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baronessvonglitter · 2 months ago

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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 20 🍒

"Baby Loves Me"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 8,823 (she's a big'un)

Summary: A blizzard, a wedding, family secrets, and two people who can't stop thinking about each other. Are these fateful events going to drive you apart for good, or bring you even closer together?

(Warnings contain spoilers beneath the cut)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 39, Joel is 56), takes place a few days before Christmas 2023, mention of eating food/drinking alcohol, mention of health issues, oral (m & f receiving), Ellie has anger issues, use of guns for recreational shooting, jealous!Joel, mutual pining, reader wears makeup and dresses, unprotected piv, creampie, TW for minor heart attack and hospitalization (everything is okay in the end), getting back together and having a happily ever after. In this universe everyone is alive and happy.

Author's Note: this series was the first story I ever posted on AO3 and then recently here on tumblr. I had no idea so many people would love it, and it's currently my most liked, most commented-on, and most bookmarked work on AO3 ♥️ It feels so good to finally have this complete, but I will write some one-shots about this couple in the future, because part of me really doesn't want to let them go. Much love to those who stuck around and showed their support while I got this story hammered out. I love and appreciate all of you!

Please enjoy this playlist for your listening pleasure, songs that either appear in the series or provided inspiration

Series Masterlist

It's early when Joel wakes, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he puts his hand to his heart, eyes scrunched closed tight as he prepares himself for the increasingly painful palpitations. He grunts in suffering at the agony of the erratic pounding of his heart, body tense until it passes, and he sighs with relief, head in his hands as he runs his fingers through his greying locks.

It's been almost a week now that he's had these pains, happening every day now that Sarah's wedding day is nearing. He gets them on and off but lately stress has been catching up to him and reminding him he's not in his thirties anymore. Hell, he'd give anything just to be in his forties again.

He gets up to get a glass of water, quickly throwing on a shirt before going downstairs. The house is quiet though he can see the electric glow of the television light on underneath yours and Ellie's rooms. He hesitates just outside of your room, putting an ear to the door, hoping to catch some tidbit of your voice, some clue as to what you're doing in there, but it's quiet, just the low volume of something playing on TV.

With a sigh he goes down to the kitchen.

Alone with his thoughts, affected by the presence of you and Ellie under his own roof, he takes stock of his life, of all the moments he failed you when he should have been there for you.

That first night he set foot back in Austin after serving time in the Bexar County jail, wondering if he should call you, he'd gone instead to a bar and met Hailey. He didn't recognize her at first, but she'd come on so strong, and the alcohol ran freely that night, so by the time he'd taken her home and her warm, tight little mouth was wrapped around his cock, it was too late. He didn't expect that that one night would lead to her wanting more, but by then you were gone, tucked back safely away in Houston where he couldn't get his hands on you and where you could (he'd hoped) in time forget about him. You were too much of a good girl with too much potential to waste it on someone like him. Hailey was someone who was always going to be stuck in a small town, so he didn't have to worry he was holding her back. But he soon came to realize that all they had between them was fucking. Not that he'd ever minded it in the past, but after having you, experiencing what real love was like, what Hailey offered felt like a cheap replacement, and he just wasn't that man anymore. He knew Sarah hated her, so when he caught Hailey stealing from him he knew that was the last straw and ended things.

Sad to say he went back to his usual routine from before he met you. Working from sunup to sundown, coming home with new aches in his joints to a meal Sarah had had to cook herself, or pizza that had gone cold. On the weekends he'd be at the bar, either with Tommy or more often alone, and he'd find a woman and wind up at her place. He could never bring them back to his, not in his bed that he shared with you.

Seeing you in New Orleans that summer night had been a shock to his system. He thought he'd managed to get over you just a little, but seeing you, a little older than the last time, looking soft and happy and bright-eyed as you laughed with Tommy.. and that fucking rock on your finger that signaled you were taken. Something primeval in him stirred when he ran into you in that restroom hallway, your lips full and glossy from making out with his brother, jealousy surging through him that you'd be so willing to cheat on your husband-to-be with someone other than himself.. it led him to want you more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

Leaving you the next day had been the hardest thing, but he had to remind himself you were going to belong to another. He couldn't get in the way of that, not when he'd only shown his love for you by fucking you in a bar restroom. You were going to marry a military man and have a respectable life, that was what he wanted for you. To have a life with Joel would only make you sordid, ripe for gossip. He was old enough to be your father and you were in fact his his best friend's daughter. He couldn't sully your life with his mistakes.

On a last minute whim he'd come to your wedding, sat at the very back as you were oblivious to him, staring into your husband's eyes as you spoke your vows, each word a piece of jagged glass in his heart. He'd left before you could see him, driving back to Texas at a high rate of speed, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. Why hadn't he just objected? He could have done it, raised his hand and told the entire congregation that you were his god damn it. He would have led you out, carrying you bridal style, ripped your damn dress off you and fucked you senseless.

It was later that Tommy suggested the dating app. Joel wasn't a fan of technology, and in fact still had his old Nokia phone that Sarah was warning him was becoming obsolete and cajoled him into upgrading to a smartphone. Once she and Tommy had helped him with setting up a profile on eHarmony, the requests piled in. Women from all over the state showed their interest. He had his pick of almost anyone. While he went on a few fruitless dates (some of which actually ended up in sex) there were few that actually interested him.

Until Tess. She was so much like him, and more suited to his age. A divorcee, she knew what she wanted in a relationship and stuck by her values. Beneath her tough exterior Joel found she was actually very kindhearted, even sweet. She cared about animals, liked beer, and was a homebody. She'd resisted his charms at first, but eventually neither could give in to the spark they felt. It took some convincing to get her to marry him. She accepted only on the terms that he move to Boston. She'd visited Texas a few times on business, but she wanted to stay in the northeast, and Joel, in love again for the first time in years, acquiesced.

The problem was they were too much alike. Both wanted to lead, and while he was happy to let Tess have the reigns now and then, it became an issue. This led to more arguments, tense discussions over things that shouldn't have mattered. The divorce, when it finally happened, was a blessing in disguise. Joel followed Tommy away from Boston and found comfort here in Wyoming, in a place he could start anew.

Sarah had been none too subtle when she brought you up in conversation. "Did you know she's a teacher?" "She's single now, divorced actually." "She's in California with her daughter."

Every damn day there was a phone call or a text where you were mentioned. And now, with you here under his roof at Sarah's behest, it was apparent that she was trying to get you two back together again.

He knew he needed to speak with you about that comment you uttered, about "our" daughter Ellie. He'd done the math in his head, just to be safe, and had calculated that he could indeed be her dad. But he had to get the honest answer from you.

It'd be easy if you would at least acknowledge his presence.

Your cold shoulder is more like an arctic icy blast. Your refusal to even meet his eye is like an arrow through his heart. He wishes that you would at least glare at him, or say something sarcastic or hurtful, but your silence is the coldest thing, even with the blizzard outside.

He's hopeful during one moment the next morning, as he's going into the hall restroom while you're coming out. Freshly showered, you're wearing a towel around your body, skin glowing, hair combed back and damp. The steam that surrounds you from your hot shower makes you look like a figure from a movie, an ethereal angel come to earth. His breath catches in his throat as you look up at him, your beautiful eyes wide and plush lips parted. Then you resume your coldness, pulling your towel tighter around you as you go to your room. When he steps in he smells the jasmine aroma of your body wash still in the air around him his dick hardens in response.

Hearing that Sofia has arrived is the one bright spot in your time here.

You meet her at the Tipsy Bison after everyone has helped out shoveling snow off the path. You'd found yourself working next to Joel and said nothing to him, ignoring his silent appeal for you to talk to him.

Now the crew is indulging in some food and beer at the bar while you catch up with your cousin.

"How did you get in? I thought the roads were impassable," you tell her after a big hug and an introduction to her fiancee Ruby. It had come as a surprise to you when she'd told you she was marrying a woman, but Sofia had said she'd only followed her heart and didn't consider herself stuck to any sort of label. Ruby was the perfect person for her and there was no looking back.

"Tommy sent a pilot friend of his to pick us up from the airport when our taxi couldn't make it through the snow," she says, nearly knocked over as Ellie pummels her with a bear hug. "We were helicoptered in, like a couple of VIPs."

It's like old times as you share a booth altogether, different kinds of appetizers in the center of the table as you catch up on things.

"How did you manage to still stay friends with Tommy?" you ask when Ruby and Ellie go to make change for the jukebox. Hearing that Sofia is staying with Tommy and Maria during their visit, you can't help but wonder how other people can so easily put aside the past.

"I think it helped that we were friends before we started dating," she shrugs. "And.. to be honest, our relationship never got that serious. Not like you and Joel," she finishes in a whisper, darting a glance at the elder Miller brother, who's knocking back some beer with Tommy and a few others.

"Why do you ask?" Sofia continues.

"I don't know how to deal with being under the same roof as Joel," you admit. "Everything that he put me through.. I know we're only here for a few days but it feels like an eternity. It's becoming harder to avoid him."

"You should talk to him," she says gently. "You don't have to be best friends or anything, but you're a friend of the bride. You should at least be civil."

You sneak a look over your shoulder at him, just to find he's already staring at you. You quickly turn away.

"Does he know about.." Sofia motions with her head toward Ellie, who's at the jukebox with Ruby.

"No," you respond. "And he doesn't need to know."

"That's not fair to him," she softly scolds you.

"You are the only one I've trusted with this, Sofia. Please do not make me regret telling you."

Sofia is really the only family you have left. You never saw you father after that fateful night when Joel fought him, and your mother disowned Ellie when she came out, causing you to disown your mother in return. Your circle is small but faithful.

She backs off. "All right," she relents. "But what about Ellie? She'll resent you for keeping this a secret this long."

You watch your daughter, who's drifted from the jukebox to one of the pool tables, mindlessly spinning the cue ball upon the soft green surface. She's distracted when she sees another girl across the room, a pretty dark-haired girl around her own age, watching Ellie furtively, as if fascinated.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Ellie shouts, causing the girl to run away.

"Ellie!" you snap at her, and to your astonishment Joel walks past you to go to her. You freeze, watching their interaction, but all seems to be okay as they talk quietly.

"I don't know what to do for her. I don't know how to help her.. she's so angry, especially since the divorce. And Justin rarely ever sees her. The only thing he's good for is the child support." You swig your beer, itching to go and talk to her, but the stubborn side of you refuses to be closer to Joel than is necessary.

Sofia folds her napkin in sections. "She called me and told me about Riley.. and the little mishap at the mall."

Earlier that year, Ellie and Riley had been picked up by the cops for trespassing in an abandoned mall and vandalizing some stores. It was completely unlike her, and even though you both sought family therapy for all the issues you were going through, it didn't seem to be making much leeway.

"She doesn't seem so angry now," Sofia mentions, and you turn to see Joel and Ellie starting a game of pool. You both watch as she tries to pull off complicated trick shots and Joel just shakes his head in feigned frustration. Once again your gaze lingers too long and you lock eyes, but this time you offer a tiny smile, mouthing 'thanks.'

"Hey Mom, can I go with Joel and Finn? Joel said I have to ask you."

You look up from where you're steam-cleaning your dress for the rehearsal dinner tonight. "Where are you going?"

"It's near the woods on Joel's property. We're just going for a hike," she shrugs.

"I guess.. just behave yourself, okay?"

She grins, glad to have gotten permission. You follow her down to the foyer where Joel and Finn are getting their hats and gloves on. "Be careful," you tell them, though it's mostly meant for Joel.

"Of course. You're okay with her shootin'?"

"What?!"

Ellie manages to look chagrined. "I didn't think you'd let me go if you knew guns would be involved."

"Well you thought right!"

"I won't let her if you won't allow it," Joel offers.

"Come on!" Ellie groans.

"Just remember that you're on thin ice back home," you tell her without wanting to let on to the others about Ellie's troubled past.

"Somethin' the matter?" Joel asks, eyes darting between you and her.

"Nope," Ellie's all smiles when you hesitate to answer. "Let's get going!"

She and Finn race out the door into the snowy yard just as Joel stops for a brief moment. "I won't let her shoot if you don't want her to," he says solemnly.

The nearness of him, the rich baritone of his voice could easily bring you to your knees. It feels like a chore just to swallow that emotion and consider it dead, a mistake.

"Just be careful," you repeat, a smile flitting on your lips. Heat rises in your face when you see his gaze drop down to your mouth, his tongue peeking out to swipe across his own lips.

"You could come with us."

Your first instinct is to refuse, to keep that wall built between him and yourself. Good fences make good neighbors and brick walls keep people from reliving past trauma.

But damn it's hard to say no when he's here right in front of you, after all this time, and the parts of you that have healed just want to give in, to go into his arms again.

It's not a surprise when you're in the passenger seat of his truck, like old times. And though it's a newer model and the seats have warmers and the upholstery makes the whole car smell like it was just driven off the lot, in a way it still feels like summer 2003.

Finn's done this before, the apple of his grandfather's eye. Even with the skill of a child, he shoots with ease, knocking down most of the targets Joel had set up on a fence.

When it's Ellie's turn she's eager for the gun, but her practice shots are haphazard: off an old fallen tree, a random snowbank. She huffs in frustration.

"Wide right," Joel tells her. "You're flinchin'."

Ellie shakes her head. "The target's too small."

"I made it bigger than I should've. Eject the cartridge."

You watch your only child move with precision, handling the gun with ease despite being new to this. "I'm not flinching, the rifle just sucks."

You and Finn exchange a look, suppressing your laughter.

"Okay, give it." Joel changes places with Ellie, who quips, "It doesn't aim right, you'll see."

It's hard to tear your eyes from him as he sets up, moving with the ease of someone half his age. "A deep breath in, slow breath out. You squeeze the trigger like you love it," he says, ignoring Ellie's teasing remarks. "Gentle, steady, nice and slow."

"You gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?" she smirks, and when you laugh out loud Joel shakes his head, pulling off the perfect shot.

After, you rest on the tailgate of the truck while drinking warm beverages from your thermoses. Ellie and Finn gather their energy quickly enough, playing in the snow and chasing each other. It brightens your day to see your daughter smiling.

"I wanna apologize for the other day," Joel says, his eyes flicking to you. "I was outta line. I've apologized to Ellie too. I think she and I are good now."

You nod, somewhat relieved that he'd brought it up first. "I'm sorry too. I guess I get pretty riled up when someone tries to out-parent me."

Joel looks away, towards the mountains that peak their grayness against the clear blue sky. "He been outta the picture long?"

"Who? Justin?" You notice Joel winces at your ex husband's name. "Long enough. He was supposed to spend time with her for Christmas but chose his new wife over his own daughter. She didn't take it very well."

"Fuckin' bastard," he mutters. "Always figured there was a reason for me to not like him."

You give him a strange look. "You didn't know him."

"Didn't need to. He took you away from me. That's reason enough."

"Joel," you say quietly, both a scolding and a scoff. You remember his body against yours that night, the way your sheets bore his scent until the day before Justin came back from out of town and you had to wash away the evidence of your betrayal.

"I'm sorry I didn't go after you. There were a million opportunities and I failed each time."

You say his name again, with softness this time, your hand finding his, his palm almost completely dwarfing yours. You think about his fingers inside you, teasing you for the first time, showing you how to open up to him, and how you ended up giving away your whole heart.

In the moment where you can say the most heartwarming or romantic or even angry thing, what comes out of your mouth is: "You never accepted my friend request."

Joel looks puzzled. "What?"

"My friend request. On Facebook. I tried to add you but you never accepted it, so I canceled it." Cringing at your own words, how needy they sound, you take your hand from his, but he traps it within his own again.

"Darlin', I never look at that stuff. I only got one 'cause everyone else goaded me into it." His eyes look mirthful as he sees your doleful eyes.

"And that's how I found out about Tess.."

"Oh." The mirthful look is gone, replaced by a dark, blank look. The first marriage, the only marriage he ever had, so late in life, ended.

"What was she like?"

"Why do you wanna know?" He looks at the ground, as if the snow is so interesting. "What was that idiot fuckboy husband of yours like?"

You almost laugh, surprised that he's jealous, even after you've moved on from your marriage.

"He wasn't as great as I thought," you shrug. "But that doesn't matter now."

Joel smiles, agreeing. "Tess was.. we were good for awhile but you're right, doesn't matter now."

"Because we both turned out okay.. me and you."

He thinks it over a bit, eventually nodding. "Yeah.." His deep brown eyes meet yours, and you catch a glimmer of the man he was before, twenty years past, a single dad with a teenage girl and an interest in the new girl next door. "I'm sorry.. for everything. We happened so fast that my brain had to catch up with my heart."

You're afraid that if you think about it for too long you'll cry and never stop. "We don't have to talk about that.."

He nods, looking a little sad that you declined. "You're right, we don't."

"Look at you with all this land," you smile, gently teasing him to change the subject. "What are you gonna do with all of it?"

Joel shrugs, looking at his property, thinking again of the possibilities. "I might decide to turn it into a ranch, raise sheep," he shrugs. "They're quiet and do what they're told."

He's quiet another moment, before his voice drops an octave. "I'm really glad you came, babygirl.. it's really good to see you. Don't think I said that before."

A smile graces your lips, a genuine one, and the warmth of his words melts what's left of your defenses. "Joel.. there's something I need to tell you.. about Ellie.." The words are out before you even think.

Your heart pounds, taking residence in your throat as if to keep the truth from spilling out. Joel turns his whole body to you. His eyes search yours, without question or condemnation, as if he's willing you to say it because he already knows, because he just wants it made real.

When the moment passes it's a disappointment to both of you. It's getting later in the afternoon and you still need to get ready for tonight. The kids trudge back to the truck and you get in next to Joel in the front. There's a quietness that fills the space, thick and somewhat desperate.

The Tipsy Bison has gone through another temporary makeover for the rehearsal dinner: garlands of lights arch across the ceiling from beam to beam, creating a pleasant, dreamy atmosphere. People mill around waiting for the bride and groom who are running a little late. Drinks are served and tables of food boast different kinds of cuisine.

Ellie makes a beeline for the hors d'oevres, immediately picking out what she wants and stuffing it straight into her mouth as if she hasn't seen food in months. Joel watches her from the next table over, trying hard as hell not to call her out too harshly, but as his stomach growls he joins her in the hunt for sustenance.

A tray of pastel-colored macarons catches Ellie's eye and she takes a light green treat with her fingers. "What are these?" She scrutinizes it, taking a quick sniff.

"It's some kinda cookie.. or something.. how the hell should I know?" he grumbles.

"Pistachio," she grunts in disgust, putting it back on the plate.

"Well, now don't put it back, you've already touched it and sniffed it and everything.." Joel quickly pops the discarded macaron into his mouth.

"If you want 'em they're all yours," she says, giving his shoulder a couple heavy claps before moving on down the line of food.

He just shakes his head, looking around for you for the tenth time tonight, finding you with Sarah and her soon-to-be inlaws at the bar. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you in a dark red dress, long-sleeved, cinched at the waist, and he feels a familiar rush of blood to his cock as he eyes the thigh-length slit on one side of the skirt.

"That color is sensational on you."

You turn to the voice you've just heard, as the group you were talking with disperses.

"Hi," you tell the older, well-dressed man in front of you. "I don't believe we've met." But then it hits you, and just as he introduces himself you realize you already know his name.

"I'm Frank," he says, a Duchenne smile lighting up his features and crinkling the wrinkles around his eyes. He's handsome, and very friendly. And he was friends with Joel during his marriage to Tess.

He introduces you to his husband Bill, who regards you with a certain suspicion and gives a gruff acknowledgement to your hello. "He's like that with everyone," Franks explains in a stage whisper, while rolling his eyes. "He's just a big grump, but I love him."

"I'm a friend of the bride," you tell them after giving your name, and also introducing Ellie, who's arrived next to you with a plate piled high with shrimp, pulled pork sliders, and mini cheesecakes.

"She's a friend of Joel's," Frank tells Bill, as if to clarify.

"Um, yes.. I'm also a friend of his," you agree. Pretending to spot someone across the room, you excuse yourself, giving a subtle motion for Ellie to follow you, but she stays where she is, popping a whole shrimp in her mouth, eyeing the couple.

"There's a story there," Frank says enticingly as he sips his beer.

"What do you mean?" she asks, curious about the gossip.

Bill gives him a look and shakes his head. "She's a kid, she doesn't need your dramatic stories."

"Now I have to know!" Ellie insists.

Frank feigns annoyance. "Oh all right."

He weaves the tale of Joel and his wife Tess: happily married at first, so alike in attitude and hobbies. She thought she knew everything about the man she married, but when Tommy, in a drunken game of poker one night, recalled a certain young woman who Joel knew, a woman who could tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue, Joel told his brother, in a similar drunken state, that he remembered her fondly, missed her like crazy, she was the one who got away.

Tess wasn't the type to hound someone for details, but she didn't like there was a part of Joel's past that she didn't know about. Especially if that past was filled with him falling in love with and screwing a college girl. This naturally led to arguments that Tess refused to drop. Joel didn't want to relive that time with you, and insisted it meant nothing since you were well and truly out of his life.

But the damage had been done, and the thorn of jealousy had pierced Tess's heart. You were a stranger to her and still could not be defeated.

Frank recalled with suppressed glee the night Tess had stormed out on a dinner party, ranting at Joel about "not being able to get over a stupid ass teenager" and causing a scene for the others to eat up. It had embarrassed Joel deeply, but when news of Sarah's wedding had become known, Joel couldn't keep it secret from the friends of his ex-wife. He'd come to like them in his own way, especially Bill, with whom he shared a predilection for quiet and keeping to one's self. They hunted and fished like old times and soon enough both he and Frank were invited to the wedding.

"There's a saying that goes," Frank is telling Ellie, "'everyone can see it but them.'"

Ellie glances at you across the room, and then at Joel. You and he trade silent, surreptitious glances at one another, filled with longing. You glance at him and he catches you before you glance away, and vice versa. The signal between your gazes is irrefutable. There's something there, has been all this time. All it needed was a little meddling from Sarah to bring the spark back to life.

For the first time Ellie sees you as something more than her mother. She realizes you had a past, a life before she was born, and a fraction of that life was spent in love with a man she just met a couple days ago.

"Hey Mom, can you help?"

Hearing Ellie, you immediately shift into Mom Mode, stopping your own get-ready routine to assist her. She's in your doorway, holding out her wrists. She picked out the suit herself, but the cufflinks are something new.

"Did you get these from your dad?"

"Joel let me borrow them for today."

It's finally the day of the wedding, and as the ceremony isn't until the evening, the whole house is a kind of organized chaos from morning through the afternoon. As if your nerves weren't already on fire, Sarah had approached you early that morning (fortunately for her while you were drinking your coffee) and asked if you'd replace one of her bridesmaids who'd come down with a cold overnight and couldn't attend.

You'd reasoned with her that you didn't have a bridesmaid dress, but that was easily solved when it was revealed the bridesmaids were all wearing jewel tones, and the sapphire gown you'd purchased off the rack would do just fine.

You had anticipated being part of a crowd. Now you'd be at the front of the congregation, all eyes on you, especially Joel's.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you finish helping Ellie with her cufflinks and let her entertain you with whatever teenage thought is flipping around in her brain while you touch up your makeup.

"I'm supposed to meet with Sarah and the bridal party at the church. You can ride with me or you'll have to find a ride with someone else."

"Joel will take me."

You brush away some stray powder on your cheek. "Are you sure?"

"Maybe he could take both of us. Want me to ask him?"

"No--"

But she's gone before you can stop her.

You feel Joel's eyes on you as you during the short drive to the church, and you blame the heat you feel coursing through your body on the seat warmer.

"It's a nice thing you're doin' for Sarah, steppin' in at the last minute," he says, eyes finally on the road.

"I can't let down a bride in need," you say somewhat cheerfully. "She'd do the same for me."

"Maybe at your next wedding." Ellie pipes up from the backseat, and Joel's frown is not lost on you.

The lead-up to the actual ceremony is a blur, as it was at your own wedding fifteen years before. The bridal party clusters around Sarah, who looks radiant, as she promises she isn't nervous. You can sense her agitation in the way her knee bounces as she's seated, one of the bridesmaids doing a last minute touch up to her hair. The air is heavy with excitement, the scent of hair spray and perfume all around you, reminding you that you're flammable.

"Remember this day," you advise her, and she looks up at you with a grateful smile. "It goes by unbelievably fast."

You wonder if you'll ever have this again, the butterflies in your stomach as you wait for the moment when you see your man at the aisle, awaiting you. You were lucky to have it once. Twice would be an anomaly, considering you haven't had a real relationship in so long.

Joel knocks and, granted entrance, the bridesmaids flutter about, getting ready for their entrance into the church. The bride and her father are left alone, no doubt exchanging words of love before he gives her away to her true love.

You had no one to walk down the aisle with when you were a bride, and the memory threatens to cloud your mind as you take your small bouquet of white roses and camellias. "Canon in D" starts, and the line makes its way down the aisle, towards the altar where Theo and his groomsmen wait.

Situated at the altar, the congregation rises as the music changes, and Sarah walks in, arm in arm with Joel.

Your eyes are on him the entire time, and your heart feels to big to fit in your chest. You've never seen Joel in a suit, but this one is perfectly tailored to his broad, strong physique. His hair is perfectly styled, his grey visible through the curls you long to run your fingers through.

When Sarah and Theo exchange vows your gaze unexpectedly meet Joel's and this time neither of you look away. You catch the glimmer of a tear falling down his cheek, which he does not wipe away. The bride and groom's words seem to ring loud and true: a promise of love through hard times and illness; of love that only grows in each others' absence; of love that does not die even after death.

The reception is held at the Tipsy Bison, and you marvel at how it's managed to disguise itself once more from a saloon to an elegant wedding atmosphere. A lot of money has gone into the week's events, and you know it's all Joel's doing. He's giving away his daughter, sending her off in style, giving her a day she'll remember forever.

You watch Sarah and Joel during their father-daughter dance, a tradition you didn't get to have yourself. "I Loved Her First" by Heartland starts up by the band onstage, and it tugs on your heartstrings to watch them. In the back of your mind you see them, Joel still thirty-six and Sarah still fourteen. By the time Sarah and Theo have their first dance as husband and wife you're already in the ladies' room, splashing cold water on your face so no one can see you've been crying.

Later, the bridesmaids and groomsmen have scattered, dancing or drinking at the bar, mingling. You stay at your seat at the now nearly-empty wedding party table, fingers twirling the stem of your champagne glass.

Mired in your own thoughts, you don't realize Joel has approached, crouching next to you.

"Dance with me?" he asks, his voice nearly a rasp with how nervous he is.

Wordlessly you take his hand, which practically dwarfs your own, as he leads you to the dance floor. You fall into a rhythm as the band starts up "Tennessee Whiskey", swaying softly to the music. His right hand rests on your lower back, gently guiding you. Your heart pounds as you gaze into his eyes. You haven't been this close to him since the night you conceived Ellie, the fateful night that threw a wrench into all your plans.

"It was a beautiful wedding," you lean in close to be heard over the music.

Joel shivers at your proximity, the brush of your lips against his ear, and he pulls you a little closer. "I'm happy you came all this way for it. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," you affirm, your hand gliding up to his shoulder.

The air is thick with tension, much like in the days you'd first met. You have to turn away or risk your feelings made known to everyone here.

Ellie's at one of the booths with the dark-haired girl from a couple days ago, watching something on her phone. As the girl laughs you see Ellie looking at her with a warmth you haven't known her capable of for anyone else.

"She's going to hate me for having to take her away again.." you tell him. "I haven't seen her this happy in a long time."

He clears his throat. "Maybe now she has a reason to return." He nods towards Ellie and her new friend.

Your limbs stiffen a little in response. You're not yet ready to think about the future, the possibilities it holds. You've barely begun to mend your friendship with Joel.

"Maybe," you relent, quietly, a promise made in the ether.

Joel's silent as the music moves smoothly in the air between you. His grip tightens on your body as he asks, "She's mine, ain't she?"

You snap from your thoughts, your heart in your throat as you stop dancing. "Excuse me?" Your eyes bore into him, daring him to speak the truth for himself.

"The other day you said 'our daughter'.. the timeline's right, I'm not that bad at math," he manages a smile.

"Joel, I.." you shake your head. "It's all too much. I can't think about this right now."

"Just tell me the truth," he says quietly.

"What would it matter if she was?"

"It'd make a whole hell of a difference. Two daughters, two Miller girls. Don't you think somethin' like that would make me happy?"

For a rare moment you let yourself think about the day your mother came to get you, pull you back home to Houston seeped in shame and regret. She'd lied and manipulated facts to get you on her side. You vowed you'd never be like her or put Ellie through that.

"Yes, Joel.." you whisper. "She's yours.."

The joy that shines in his eyes is like nothing you've ever seen before. When his arms wrap around you your lips find his as if twenty years has never passed between you. Right there, in the middle of the dance floor, you're making out like teenagers.

"I want you," he growls.

"Let's get out of here," you agree.

You're barely through the front door of his home when he presses you to the wall, his mouth hungry for yours. You hadn't thought you'd experience this level of passion again, but time has not diminished it for either of you.

"Joel," you moan as he presses himself to you, the blunt hardness of his erection teasing you. "Fuck me, Joel.."

He groans at your words, body aching with desire as he goes to his knees in front of you, lifting the hem of your dress. He presses messy kisses along your thighs while his hands roam over your hips and ass, his breath hot against your skin as he approaches the spot he most wants to taste again.

"Been too long, darlin'," he murmurs as he pulls your lacy underwear down your legs. "Been too damn long since I had you like this."

You kick your panties off, hooking one leg over his shoulder as he dives in, tongue lapping at your sweet pussy like a thirsty man finally finding water.

He stays there, tongue dancing between your folds and then tickling your clit, tasting you so deeply that you cry out, head falling back, body arched towards him, fingers tangled in his hair. Joel feasts like a man starved, slurping you up, inhaling your scent that surrounds him. There's nothing about you that's changed. You're still so sensitive to his touch, responsive to his lips, tongue, and now fingers pressed deep inside, finding the spot that makes you scream while his lips purse around your throbbing clit.

He doesn't stop after you come. He feasts on you over and over again, making up for lost time, pleading for your forgiveness this way, literally on his knees until you scream his name, convulsing around his fingers, your honey collecting on his large digits. Only when you feel completely boneless does he remove them gently, licking up your syrupy taste.

Joel picks you up, your dress falling back in to place as he carries you bridal style up to his room.

All roads have led back to him. No matter where you went, no matter who you chose, Joel was always going to be there at the end of the path, your guiding light, even when you thought you hated him and when you thought he would never choose you again.

Even now, his body over yours, he's the missing piece of the puzzle. He teases you with his cock until you beg him to just put it in, to make you whole again. The glorious slide of his flesh into yours causes you both to gasp and your bodies still for a moment, taking in the significance of this act which you've done so many times before.

He's older now, but his vigor is not gone. He fucks you gently at first, then with impatience, as if he's afraid you'll dissolve like a dream in daylight. You'd know the feel of his cock among any other, the smooth outline and the ridges, the way he's molded his perfect shape into you, marked you years ago when you were a virgin, as if leaving his initials inside you. Mine.

You've never had a man to match him, never had someone so in sync with your body. He knows all your buttons, every dip and valley that his hand caresses. He's mapped out your skin like a cartographer, claiming the land in his own name.

You come almost too quickly the first time, before he flips you on top of him, gripping your hips as you ride him. "Love you," you moan as you come close to the edge again, heart and soul flying ahead of you into the bliss you've only really known with him.

Beneath you Joel's eyes go wide when you come, his hips lifting up into you, warmth spilling into your core.

"Babygirl," he whispers, a choked grunt as he turns pale, his skin clammy and sweaty when he loses consciousness.

As soon as Sarah and Ellie arrive at the hospital you hug them, overcome with worry for Joel's medical emergency.

"How is he?" Sarah asks, still in her wedding dress. Even in the emergency waiting room she's generating a lot of interested looks her way.

"They just took him in a few minutes ago," you tell her, secretly glad she wasn't there to see her dad in such shape. "I think it was a heart attack.."

"Oh my god," she puts her hand over her mouth and sits on the nearest chair, Ellie right next to her, comforting her.

"The party's winding down at the bar," Ellie explains. "Only a few people know-- Theo, Tommy, Maria.."

"We didn't want to worry anyone else," Sarah adds.

You look at her, heart aching. This is supposed to be her special day.. and if something happens to Joel--

Don't think like that.

The three of you sit down, drinking stale coffee from the machine down the hall. Soon Tommy joins you, Theo staying at the house to keep an eye on Finn.

The worst thoughts poke through your brain, teasing you and taunting you. But at last the doctor comes out, a guy even younger than yourself, green scrubs and white coat.

He talks with the family, letting them know the diagnosis. "It was a silent myocardial infarction, basically a mild heart attack," he explains it. "He's going to be fine and he's resting right now."

"A heart attack?" Tommy and Sarah exclaim together.

"At his age it's not uncommon.. he's fifty-six years old," the doctor checks the chart. "Now, we have him on some aspirin and beta-blockers. Tests show he doesn't have enough blockage to necessitate surgery, but he'll need blood pressure medication and to keep a healthier lifestyle."

"Can we see him?" you ask.

"Yes, two at a time, preferably. We want to keep him calm while we're monitoring him." He checks the chart again and looks at you. "You brought him in, correct, ma'am?"

"Yes.. why?"

"What was Mr. Miller doing before he exhibited symptoms of his coronary event?"

"Um.. what?" you pretend not to understand.

"What was he doing before he had his heart attack?"

"Mild heart attack," Tommy emphasizes.

"Well.." you race to think of what to tell him.

"I take it you were celebrating a wedding," the doctor says, seeing Sarah in her dress and the rest of you in tuxes and gowns and whispers a 'Congratulations' to her.

"Yes. Well, we danced.." you answer, and the doctor keeps his eyes on you as if he knows you're lying.

You go up to him, giving a subtle whisper. "We were.. intimate--"

"Sexual relations," he nods, writing it on the chart. "It's important for us to know what was a causing factor in his event. Now, two at a time can visit him."

Tommy and Sarah go first. He gives you a sly wink. "Y'all were fuckin'!" he teases, passing by. Sarah gives you an excited smile, to which you just purse your lips.

It's quiet but for the bag of Lays Ellie has opened, eating the chips slowly. "So you and Joel?"

You nod.

"But not just tonight.. a long time ago, right?"

There's an odd sensation in your stomach, as if the unspoken truth is fluttering around inside, beating its wings as it tries to find a way out. "I guess there's a lot I need to tell you. But only when you're ready."

Ellie seems to steel herself for whatever conversation is on the way, nodding at last, crumpling up the bag and tossing it in the bin. "Ready."

Seeing Joel in the hospital bed is a sobering visual. Years ago your age gap represented something illicit, scandalous. Now you're reminded that no matter what road you and he take from here, you will most likely outlive Joel Miller.

He's awake when you and Ellie go in. It's obvious he doesn't like being here, but in his current state is not fit to complain.

"Hey," you say softly, going to his side. "How are you feeling?" You caress his cheek with the back of your hand.

Joel's eyes close at your delicate touch, and when he opens them there's a warmth in them that can't be denied. "I've been better, babygirl," he says. "But I'm damn glad you're here."

He glances at Ellie, seated in a chair on his other side. "And how about you, kiddo? You okay?"

"Am I okay?" she says incredulously. "Dude, I'm not the one in a hospital bed." But her face clearly shows relief that Joel's all right. You also see her brain working over everything you've told her (well, the gist of it.. there are some things she doesn't need to know).

"I was so worried," you tell him, your voice soft and warm, all your feelings coming to the forefront. "I thought I was gonna lose you."

Tears appear in Joel's eyes, which he brushes away impatiently. "You ain't losin' me yet, baby. Not for a long time, not if you don't want to."

"Joel.." you whisper. "Do you really want to do this? After everything that's happened.. all the hurt we put each other through.. all the secrets.." you cast a glance at Ellie, who looks more reserved than you've ever seen her before. Sensing this is a moment you want to share alone, she gives a fleeting smile before she leaves, giving Joel a playful mock hit on his shoulder. Still smiling, Joel pats the space beside him in the bed and you snuggle in with him, his body warm.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Joel asks softly, eyes imploring you. "You're mine and I'm yours. That's how this thing of ours operates: you belong to me and I belong to you. Despite everything that's happened in the last twenty years, that's been the one constant." His hands grips yours, thumb running over your knuckles. "I don't care if I've got thirty years or thirty days left of my life. I wanna spend the rest of it with you, babygirl."

You search his eyes, seeing nothing there but the truth, laid bare and ready for you to either accept or deny.

He continues, "I don't wanna keep failin' you. I'm too much in love to let you go again." Then he gently lifts your chin, making sure you meet his eyes. "But only if you want me back."

Some would say you're on a precipice in the choice you're about to make, but it's not that difficult to choose. It's simply the separate paths you're on, converging at last. for good.

"You're the only one I've ever wanted," you whisper. It's not a fancy declaration of truth, a bit surprising coming from an English teacher, but it's the only thing Joel needs to hear before he pulls you close for another kiss.

Joel's released on Christmas Eve, and the two of you don't waste any time.

You and Joel are married in a small, intimate ceremony in the spacious living room of his home. Ellie, Sarah, Theo, Finn, Tommy, Maria, Sofia, Ruby, and even Bill and Frank are in attendance, watching as a judge from town and friend of the Millers officiates.

Joel promises you a nicer wedding when the frost thaws, anywhere you want in the world. You tell him you can't imagine a more perfect place to marry the most perfect man for you.

Your first wedding went by in a blur, but this time around you engrave it upon your heart, make note of every little skip of your heart when you and Joel hold hands, his delicate touch as he places a gorgeous sapphire ring on your hand, the sweetness of his lips when you share your first kiss as husband and wife.

After Christmas, Sarah and Theo leave for their honeymoon to Maui, and with the weather more agreeable the guests take leave too. Tommy sees to it that you and Joel have your house all to yourselves for your own honeymoon.

You insist on taking it easy with Joel, but he tells you he'd rather die while inside you, his name pouring from your lips the last thing he ever hears. He seems to get a second wind with you, making use of every possible flat surface in the house. You feel better about such activity when he takes his medication, promising to take it faithfully so long as you follow it with a kiss.

One morning after a particularly strenuous night, while drinking coffee in the kitchen and discussing your plans, Ellie returns, calling out to you before she enters.

"You're not doing anything gross in there, are you?"

"No," Joel laughs.

"Yes we are, we're working on making a sibling for you," you smirk over your coffee, glancing at Joel and giving a little shake of your head when his eyes go wide.

"Gross," she mutters, walking in. "Joel, Tommy says everyone's meeting at the Tipsy Bison for lunch later. But he couldn't get through to you on the phone." She makes a playful, pointed look, eyeing the two of you.

She's lukewarm to the idea of calling Joel 'Dad', and there's going to be some legal hoops to go through regarding Justin and his parental claim. But it all seems so small in comparison to the problems that plagued you before. You can get through anything because now you have each other.

You and Joel get ready as Ellie goes back to Tommy's, enjoying spending her time with Finn and getting ready to leave with them instead.

Unable to keep your hands off each other, it takes you twice as long to get dressed, hands going into each other's back pockets, lips finding each other's throats.

There's all the time in the world for it now.

Driving up to the Tipsy Bison, Joel turns on the radio. "Cherry, Cherry" starts to play, and you sing along with Neil Diamond, catching your husband's eye as he smiles and sings along too. The road before you is smooth, mountains standing guard in the distance, staying the same grand height no matter how far along you drive. Joel's hand finds yours, presses a kiss to it before entwining your fingers.

"Babe?"

"Yes, Mrs. Miller?"

You smile. "Let's not go right away. Let's drive around a little, play this song again, just soak in this moment."

"Of course, babygirl. I don't want to share you with the others just yet anyway."

Neil continues on the radio: No, we won't tell a soul where we gone to Girl, we do whatever we want to Ah, I love the way that you do me Cherry, babe, you really get to me

It's come full circle, and it only took two decades to complete. You and Joel in his truck, your song playing, the sun shining through the hazy clouds. You could close your eyes and it'd be 2003 again.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

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kerjaath · 4 months ago

Text

Singin' In The Shower

you thought the house was empty.

OR, you were taking a shower and started to get a little loud, unaware Yumi was still home.

reader lives in tgc house

no reader gender specified

word count: 1.1K

AN: hello everyoneeeee!!!!!!!!!!! first actual full fic posted on tumblr :333 if u wanna see more i gotchu!!! my fanfic suggestions r open and ready :3

AO3 LINK

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the house is always loud. whether it be breakfast time and everyone is huddled in the living room, stuffing their faces as they laugh at whatever is possibly playing on the t.v., or if it's the middle of the night and everyone is still streaming together.

quiet moments are rare, but the volume of the house never really bothered you too much.

It was your average, slow Thursday. Nothing was really going on all day, but when you left the shrouded comfort of your room to scavenge for a snack, you weren't too surprised to find the cabinets completely empty. Well, besides a stack of gamersupps and two empty granola bar boxes (damn you, Tanner, for taking the last ones without throwing out the boxes..)

You were in luck to find something in the fridge, though, and it wasn't long before you finished eating and headed back towards your bedroom.

unfortunately, before you could even slink into your room Isaac shouted towards you,

"Hey, we're all gonna go hit up Raising Cane's for dinner, you wanna come?" He held his hand on a corner of the wall, leaning towards you. Your cheeks slightly flustered up,

"Oh, I just ate, you guys can go without me," you laughed lightly to yourself. The chances of you eating right before everyone suddenly wanted to go out to eat - just your luck.

" 'Kay, well we're all gonna head out in a few minutes." Isaac already headed for the front door, where you assumed everyone else was waiting. You made a small hum, turning back to your bedroom door.

But, for a moment, you stopped.

Everyone else going out for dinner… you staying home, alone… home. Alone.

You smiled to yourself. You could do and be as silly as you wanted while everyone was gone without the fear of someone being nearby! Like… singing in the shower.

You already needed a shower anyway, your hair wasn't particularly in its best state, so why waste this chance to sing your heart out?

You turned on your heel, heading for the bathroom and setting a towel out. You waited for a moment, though. You couldn't just jump in the shower and sing your heart out…

You briskly walked back to the kitchen, turning to the front door. No one stood there… you quickly skipped your way to the window next to the door, moving a blind over to check to front yard. No one in sight.

You backed up, listening to the house… silence.

You shuffled to everyone's bedrooms, listening at the door before peeking in to check for anyone. But your search came back fruitless. You smiled, letting out a cackle, as you rushed to the bathroom.

Ushering the door closed, you started the water as you opened your phone, opening Spotify to find a fitting playlist 2000's girly hits… your 2023 Spotify wrapped… maybe even a playlist you couldn't stop listening to 24/7???

you paused for a moment. Yumi's album sat in your reccommended artist's playlist panels. You cracked a smile, clicking the playlist as you grabbed your speaker on the bathroom sink, hooking your Bluetooth up.

You never really sat and truly listened to Yumi's music on your own. There were the few moments you did, but it was never really a common everyday sort of thing. It was rarely even a monthly thing. But you liked his music. A part of you really only liked it so much because you could endulge in your guilty pleasure - just sitting and listening to Yumi's voice.

When you climbed in the shower, you just couldn't hold back your voice. Screaming along with Yumi, it felt almost… requited. As if he was really with you.

You barely even washed your hair, too busy flailing your hands around, dancing as the music got louder and louder.

...

When your solo concert finished up, your skin soggy and wrinkly, you climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around your chest. It draped down your stomach and past your waist, stopping around your mid-thigh. As you left the bathroom, you hummed a section of a song you didn't finish before you got out.

You were walking peacefully back to your room, but you froze in fear as you heard a light chuckle from behind you.

as you turned around, it was none other than the man himself - Yumi - standing in the hallway, cupping his mouth, his face flushing as he tried to hold in laughter.

"I thought you guys went out to eat.." you stumbled on your own words, your face flashing pale before beating a bright red. You realized your state of clothing, or really the lack of such, and made a minor yelp noise as you pulled your towel to cover yourself. It didn't really cover you any further, but what else were you to do in the moment?

"Yeah, they went out," Yumi stiffled another laugh, "but I decied to stayed home."

"And you didn't bother to tell me??" You practically muttered your words, mentally reliving the previous 45 minutes or so in the shower.

"You know, I didn't know you liked my music that much…" he grinned.

"Oh, don't get cocky.." you turned around to not face him, shaking the red off your face before you looked back at him.

"You cannot tell anyone about this." you tried to give him a serious look. He just laughed at you further.

"Stooop, I mean it!!" You shouted at him, annoyed. You felt as if you were back in elementary school, the older cool boys teasing you...

"And why should I do that?" It was as if he couldn't smile any bigger.

"Because.." you thought for a moment, glancing at the ground in thought before looking back up, "I'll strike you a deal."

"and that is…" he turned his head slightly, an eyebrow rising. It was obvious you had intrigued and caught him in your trap...

"If you keep this a secret…" you inched closer to him, leaving a small space in-between you two. His face grew a shade of pink, and you noticed how he glanced at your towel. "I'll give you a treat."

he thought for a moment, curious as to what this "treat" was.. he slowly, ever so slightly, nodded his head, but before he could even get a word in, you jumped to action.

You quickly threw your arms up and around his head, tugging his face down to your level, and kissed him.

Before he could even react, you turned on your heel and increased your pace to get back to your room, an uncontrollable smile taking over your burning face.

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heavenlyysstuff · 1 year ago

Text

A Foreign Feeling. 2

NETEYAM.s x fem! metkayina! reader

summary . after yesterdays events, you and Neteyam set off on a search for shells beyond the reef. You stay out a little longer than intended.

a/n . again, you don’t have to listen to the song I linked, I simply just like to put songs that I think fit the story’s vibe into the fic. thanks for all the support!

part 1 . part 2

♪˖ now playing .

all the stars . ( SZA ) ⊹.

Early in the morning, where the sky presented shades of pink and blue, you set off towards the Sully’s marui to collect Neteyam.

You’d gotten used to waking up this early, enjoying the hues of the sky and the coolness of the sea, you’d be happy to share it with Neteyam.

With a small bounce in your stride you quietly greet some hunters that pass, seemingly on their way out for some early morning hunting.

Unknown to you, a few hunters crane their necks back around as you pass, smirking to themselves at the thought of who you were off to see this early.

The whispers amongst them are silent to your ears, your mind already occupied with a certain someone.

It’s safe to assume most of the Sully family is still asleep, they probably would have no reason to be up at this time. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to wake Neteyam.

And your thoughts are cut to and end as you approach the Sully’s marui, a familiar figure sat outside with his legs dipped into the water.

“Good morning, Neteyam.” You speak while walking to stand next to him, keeping your voice at a quiet volume as to not disturb the rest of his sleeping family.

His ears perk up instantly, and he almost turns his whole body around to face you, but quickly calms down and just looks up at you. He inhales. “Good morning, y/n.” Immediate exhale, as if he had been preparing to say the words the second he woke up.

Your eyes scrunch as a smile reaches your face, but your expression turns to one of anxiousness. “I hope you weren’t waiting here too long, and sorry… I never really specified on the time, that was my bad.”

Neteyam doesn’t seem to be too disappointed though, in fact he looks a whole lot more bright after your appearance. “No, no it’s fine, I uh— I woke up awhile ago.” His eyes continuously flicker from your own to the ground as he talks.

With another smile placed on your face you make your way around him, “should we get to the ilu then?”

He scrambles to stand, “yea- okay.” His tail sways low behind him, and he freezes when he hears your quiet laugh as you walk away, a heat rushing to his face.

He mindlessly follows like a lost child.

The sounds of the ocean clashing against itself further relaxes you, and you take a saddle from the rack provided.

“You don’t mind riding with me, right?” You kneel down and start calling out to your ilu.

He abruptly turns to you, “oh, no. No it’s fine… it’s good.” coughing after his words.

“Okay good.” You speak while adjusting the saddle on your ilu. “I wouldn’t want to get separated outside the reef.”

“Yea…” Neteyam’s words slip out involuntarily as he becomes distracted by your attire of the day. It’s beautiful, no doubt. And he somehow feels a little special at the sight of a new outfit on your form as he dives into the cool water.

Once he rises to the surface a shaky exhale leaves him, his breath becomes quick and he sets his gaze upon you who is sat comfortably on your ilu. “It’s so cold.” He states the obvious.

You give him a pitiful smile as your shoulders raise in a silent laugh. “You get used to it.” With that you offer a hand out towards him.

He grasps your hand, but not once breaking his eye contact til he has to.

And now as you both sit on the ilu, Neteyam finds himself contemplating on where he should rest his hands. He would rest them on your waist like any other passenger would, but then again, it’s you.

The girl who had him looking through crowds just to find that certain pair of pretty eyes. The girl who had welcomed him and his family into the clan with no hesitation.

The girl he looked forward to seeing everyday. Who made his mornings a little more brighter.

Such sappy thoughts as he’s sat directly behind you, and it seems his mind had drifted so far that he didn’t realise his own hands, that had already made themselves comfortable around your waist as you direct your ilu out of the reef.

“I’m sorry for making you get up so early, you probably had plans today.” You speak your thoughts aloud, but thing is, Neteyam had cleared his whole schedule for you. Not that he had much planned at all, he had just let his parents know he’d be out for the morning, and they surprisingly didn’t ask for any specific details about his whereabouts.

He snaps out of it, again. “You don’t need to be sorry, I didn’t have anything to do anyways.” He’s pleased as your smile comes back on to your face as he peers out to see your side profile. “And I wanted to come.”

It had been awhile as the two of you continuously dived and surfaced through the water, looking for the best shells. at least, that was the case for you.

Neteyam had forced himself to hold his breath longer than he had practiced for, all to see your form glide through the oceans current.

He admired your movements, this time up close.

The way your hair had moved like silk through the water, and the way your body moved with the direction of the sea.

Once again he needs a breath, he quickly swims up towards the surface with the help of your ilu.

He gasps once he had reached the surface, but wastes no second to quickly plunge his head back underwater to locate you, who had began swimming up towards him.

You surface without so much as a sigh for air. “Are you alright?”

He hates the burning feeling down his throat, the result of accidentally swallowing some of the water when he was to distracted by you. “Yea, sorry I just— I need to practice breathing more, I guess.”

You giggle, and a thought enters your head. “Wait here a second.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly. He gives a shy smile.

You dive underwater once again, this time looking for a specific creature.

After a few moments of being underwater searching, you now come across what you had been looking for, quickly taking it and making your way back to Neteyam.

Once you surface, his head immediately snaps to you, then to the creature in your hands. “What it that?”

“It will help you breathe. You need to make the bond.” You reply and wait for him to connect to the creature, he does so hesitantly but surely. After that was done, you reach around his shoulders to place the creature comfortably on his back. “Now you can stay underwater longer with me.”

His eyes rest on your hands that remain on his shoulders, then back to you. Swallowing before he speaks, “good.”

Your eyes scan over his, what is visible, form before slowly tracing your hand from his shoulder down to his hand.. “Let’s go.” Another warm smile on your face, contagious, as it makes Neteyam smile even bigger.

You guide him by the hand, diving underwater and he follows with no hesitation, your fingers still intertwined.

The sun from above you, casted a shadow to form below you. The both of you look down, waving at your own shadows playfully.

You continue to take him deeper until the two of you are down next to the coral and other various sea life.

‘Let’s look for shells together.’ You sign, detaching your hands.

He looks confused for a moment. In his time of being here in the village, he only learnt some of the underwater language that you and Tsireya had taught him. He followed your hands as they moved… let’s… shells…together? He got the gist of what you’d were communicating, and he nods as a reply.

You take his hand once more, prompting him to follow you as you swim just above the oceans floor, occasionally brushing through it to find any hidden jewels.

While focused on your search, Neteyam finds himself looking at a different type of jewel.

In a way, your skin reminded him of the rich minerals he sometimes found in the caves back at home, a glowing blue that was even prettier under the water.

He also finds himself tightening his grip on your hand, just slightly. It almost goes unnoticed.

With your thumb, you rub his knuckles softly, and he can’t help but blush at the realisation of him being caught.

The two of you had searched the nearby sea top to bottom, occasionally going back up to the surface to breathe and share some words.

Neteyam hated the communication barrier he had with you underwater, and he promises himself that when the next lesson came, he’d try extra hard to get all the signs memorised.

The day continues with the two of you swimming through the water as it slowly got darker, not that either of your had noticed.

You had both found some beautiful shells, and once your hands got full you would put them in the bag that was attached to your ilu’s saddle.

Going through every crevice of the coral and searching every inch of sand, sometimes riding your ilu to go to another location, you both grew tired of the swimming, and you point upwards towards the surface as Neteyam follows.

You both gasp for the air, and quickly open your eyes to find each other. After calling your ilu, it’s then when the both of you realise the time.

The orange and pink hues in the sky indicate it’s soon night. You look at Neteyam, and he looks at you. You both start to laugh at the realisation. You had been out together all day.

“I…” your own giggle stops you for a moment, “sorry I didn’t mean to keep you out this long.”

His own laugh becomes louder, biting his lip to calm down, “no it’s alright. I had a lot of fun.” He climbs his way to sit behind you on your ilu, this time not hesitating to slide his hands around your waist as you guide your ilu underwater back to the village.

While the occasional times the two of you are above the water, you converse about all the shells you found, the topic soon changed though.

“Think we can make it back without our parents making a fuss?” You ponder aloud, momentarily looking behind you to find his gaze.

“No way.” He says, “but it’s worth it.”

“Why’s that?” A puzzled expression is put on your face.

“Because I got to spend time with you.”

Oh? He seemed to be getting more confident with his words, todays events made him more comfortable around you, and you love every second of it.

Shutting your eyes for a second and trying to hold back a smile you speak again. “I liked spending time with you as well.”

You had finally returned back to Awa’atlu. You wait until Neteyam climbed off of the ilu and stood onto the woven platform just above the sea. He reaches a hand out to help you lift yourself up next to him.

Once you had the bag of shells you both collected, and taken the saddle off your ilu, it was time to take yourself and Neteyam back home.

“I’ll walk you home.” You speak as you place the saddle back onto its place on the rack amongst others.

His tails swishes in contemplation. “You don’t mind?”

“No, of course not.”

He hums in appreciation, nodding his head downwards slightly as a sign of respect. The two of you begin walking to Neteyams home.

“We found a lot of good ones today, but I think it’s too much to go through today. So maybe we should take another day to go through it all together.” You state as your hand remains firm on the strap of the bag, “that way we both get an even amount, and you could make some jewellery for your family… if you’d like.”

He brightens up for the umpteenth time that day, the thought of being graced with your presence for another day bringing him to a peaceful mind space. “Yea, definitely. I’m free whenever so, just come over and we can go wherever you’d like.”

Your smile at his words immediately makes his knees feel weak, his heart also speeding up, not that anyone would notice of course.

“Here we are.” You stop a few feet from the entrance to his home. Neteyam snaps out of his trance and is brought back to reality.

“Ah.” He acknowledges, also noting the presence of his whole family inside the marui. “Thank you.” He turns his back to his family to continue conversing with you. “For today I mean, I don’t think I’ve gotten out alot since I got here.” He admits with a shy smile.

“Well, now you’ve got someone who will show you everything.” You reply sweetly, “I promise you ,I’ll take you everywhere on this island.”

Neteyam is stuck by your sincerity, completely in awe. “Sounds like a plan.” He’s starting to look forward to his life in this new environment.

You huff out a short giggle before you remember where you should be, “it’s getting late, I should get back home.” As much as you hate to leave him, it has to be done.

He hums from half disappointment and half understanding. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.” He takes a glance over your whole form before you had to leave.

“See you, Neteyam.” You wave while you start to head back towards your own home.

He finds himself stood there for a prolonged moment, staring at your retreating form before the voices of his family inside the marui bring him back.

Once inside, he’s immediately stopped upon noticing the silence as he enters, he looks up from the floor, only to find his whole family sat in some form of a circle, staring at him.

His own face turns to one of confusion, raising his brow sassily.

He quickly noticed his fathers smirk, but all attention is put to Lo��ak when he bursts out laughing.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Kiri jabs at him with her finger, also trying to shush tuk as she begins giggling.

Lo’ak gets a few words out in between laughs “well that answers our question.” That’s when his father starts to slip out a few of his own chuckles.

Among all the chaos of the fits of laughter, his mothers voice is what silences it. “Where have you been Neteyam?” She stands up and walks out of the circle towards her son.

“Sorry I— I’ve been out with y/n all day.” No point in making an excuse, especially with his mother.

“All day?” What have you been doing?” She’s quick with her questions and wants all details.

Neteyam gets a little quieter at the tone of his mothers voice. “She asked if I wanted to find shells with her.”

Neytiri softens at her sons tone, and suddenly is pushing his hair off his shoulders, then holding it all back with her hand making it look like he has a ponytail.

She scans for no longer than five seconds before releasing the boys hair. “Just tell someone where you are next time.” She speaks, and then backs off to finish off preparing diner.

Neteyam had watched as him mother left him be, and for a moment he thought he saw a smile on her face.

“Come sit, you’re probably hungry.” She insists once she had realised the fish is now done.

He smiles, and walks towards the circle to sit between his brother and littlest sister, Tuk.

As Neytiri handed out the food, and everyone making conversation of some type, Lo’ak leans a little closer to his older brother, a sly smirk on his face. “So you and y/n huh?

Neteyam pushes his face away with the palm of his hand, “shut up, bro.” He could deny that, but there’s no denying the smile he had on his face the rest of that night.

#neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #atwow neteyam #neteyam #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x reader #atwow x reader #fluff #atwow

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javier-pena · 7 months ago

Text

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You fuck up. Javi helps you to make it up to Katie.

Notes: And we're continuing with my 10k follower celebration fics!!! A very sweet anon requested "I would love to spoil you, can I do this for you?", "You're still holding back, let go" and "You're not my dirty little secret. And I never want you to think that", set in the Triumvirate Universe. And honestly at this point there isn't much left to say about Triumvirate that I haven't already said expect that writing about them brings me so much joy!!!!! I love you for requesting this, my beloved anon!!!!!! Shoutout to Dani @alexturner who reacted with 🥺 to one of the lines in this, so I guess it might be slightly emotional 🤭

***

It’s quiet in the early hours of the morning, as quiet as it gets in a city where millions of people share the same space. Usually, this is your favorite time of the day – you love to sit with your thoughts for a while, to read a book or to listen to a record, the volume turned low so you won’t disturb Javi and Katie. Eventually, one of them always joins you, or you hear them in the kitchen making breakfast.

Today, you dread the moment you’ll hear movement in another part of the apartment. Your heart is heavy with the kind of grief that only comes with knowing you made a mistake that can’t be fixed. Nothing can distract you – no book holds your attention for long, you’re scared of spoiling your favorite songs by listening to them when you feel like this. All you can do is sit on the leather couch, the material sticky against your skin, and turn yesterday’s events over and over in your mind, cursing yourself because you’re never brave enough. Why can’t you be brave just once, for the people that matter the most to you?

Eventually, you hear the bedroom door creak open and then shut quietly. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what’s to come. Do you want Javi or Katie to be the one coming down the hallway? If you could choose, you’d prefer neither of them but Katie would be indefinitely worse; you’re not ready to face her hurt and disappointment. You had enough of that last night.

Javi is the one who walks into the living room, yawning and scratching his chin. He’s naked apart from short boxer briefs that cling to him in a way that usually makes your mouth water. Today, you avert your gaze, hoping against hope he won’t see you sitting there. It’s no use.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice quiet so he doesn’t wake Katie.

You shake your head and angrily wipe at your cheeks, only now realizing that you’re crying. “Nothing.” Your voice is heavy with tears.

“Hey.” Javi rushes over to pull you into a hug. You let him, even though it makes your heart squeeze painfully.

Javi doesn’t push you to tell him the truth, he just holds you close and waits, soothing you by running his hand up and down your back. He smells of sleep, and faintly of sweat, and he smells like Javi, a scent that is so familiar to you that it has become a part of who you are. You don’t know what would happen to you if you ever were to lose it.

Eventually, you pull yourself out of the hug and look down at your hands resting in your lap. “I think she hates me after what I did to her yesterday.”

“No,” Javi contradicts you immediately, “Katie could never hate you.”

You see that look on her face again, full of hurt and heartbreak after you pulled your hand out of hers to move closer to Javi. You remember how she barely looked at you when you got home, let alone spoke to you. “Did you notice how she immediately turned away from me last night in bed?”

Javi pulls a face that’s impossible to read, even though you know him so well. “She’s hurt. I can understand why. She wants things that you can’t give her, things that might … And I understand you too,” he adds quickly as you feel your heart sink from your chest into the pit of your stomach. “You’re afraid to hold her hand in public. It’s –”

You interrupt him. “It’s not that.” It is that, at least partly. “People know we’re together. What if they see you and Katie together? What if they see me and her?”

“It was never a problem when it was just a casual thing we did once in a while,” Javi deadpans.

You pause, carefully considering his words. “Because there was no danger of losing either of you,” you finally answer.

Javi laughs, the bright sound filling the living room that’s full of bright morning light. “Yes, there was. There always is. Oh, baby.” He puts one arm around your shoulders. “You have to stop worrying so much about what other people think.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“No, it’s not.” Javi squeezes your shoulder. “One wrong step could get me fired. Or killed. But us three, we have to trust each other. If you talked to Katie and told her how you felt, I’m sure she’d understand.”

You lean forward and bury your face in your hands. “How can I ever make it up to her?”

Javi shrugs. “Just tell her you’re sorry.”

You sigh, your chest heaving. “I don’t know how.” You still have no idea how to navigate this, although by now you feel like you should. Javi and Katie don’t seem to be having any issues with your situation. Why is this so hard for you?

“Then show her you’re sorry,” Javi suggests.

Now it’s your turn to laugh, and the sound comes out a little bit strangled. That’s Javi’s way of doing things. And you don’t mind … you don’t mind at all when he’s on his knees, his head buried between your legs, licking and kissing you until you’ve forgotten why you were mad at him in the first place.

“That’s your forte, not mine,” you point out.

You don’t know what you expect Javi to reply to that, but him smiling softly down at you isn’t it. “She loves you,” he reminds you. “Whatever you do will be enough.”

Javi takes your hand and pulls you off the couch, and you follow him even though your heart is hammering in your chest. You’ve never been good at apologies, so you’re trying to live your whole life avoiding any situation that would force you to give one. And still you fucked this up. If you said those things out loud, Javi would only smile again and give you the standard answer. “We all make mistakes.” Then why are the mistakes others make so easily forgiven and forgotten while you wear yours like a brand on your skin?

Javi stops in the doorway to your bedroom and pulls you to his side. Katie is still asleep, stretched out over half the bed, one of her hands reaching out as if she’s looking to touch either of you. You love that about her, the way she wears her heart on her sleeve, never afraid to fight for the people she loves. You wish you could be more like her; you wouldn’t be in this situation if you were.

“Look at her,” Javi whispers into your ear.

You do. You see her dark curls, her tanned skin, the cluster of freckles on her right shoulder, like a constellation of stars pointing you home. Maybe she has already forgiven you because she loves you, just like Javi thinks, but even if she hasn’t, you want to do whatever is necessary to earn her forgiveness. Because you lo love her.

Katie stirs, yawns, her eyes still closed, and it feels as if a hand wraps around your heart and squeezes it tightly. You yearn to be with her, yearn to feel her skin against yours, her lips on your lips, to open yourself up to her until there is nothing left for her to learn about you. Just as you did with Javi and Javi did with you.

“Go to her,” Javi whispers then, and releases you.

On unsteady legs, you walk toward the bed that was yours long before it was hers, but that can never be complete without her in it, and climb into it on her left side, careful not to wake her but eager for her to open her eyes. You run your hand up and down her naked back and kiss her temple, her cheeks, her closed eyelids.

She doesn’t push you away, like you were scared she might do. Instead, she asks, “What are you doing?” her voice heavy with sleep.

You glance at Javi who is still standing in the doorway. He nods. “I would love to spoil you. Can I do that for you?”

Katie stiffens beneath your hand and it takes everything in you not to pull back and run for cover. Your heart clenches again, painfully, and you brace yourself for the inevitable rejection. But you stay, trying to breathe as evenly as possible, almost daring Katie to start the fight she so desperately seems to want to have with you.

Katie opens her eyes and looks for yours, and you hold her gaze, ready for whatever she is about to say to you. But there is no hurt in her eyes anymore, no fire, no guardedness. She looks curious, almost mischievous instead, and finally, she nods.

You don’t give your body time to respond to that nod, to let relief wash all over you. Instead, you trap her chin between your thumb and forefinger and kiss her like you’ve been thinking about doing ever since you saw her lying in bed, completely unguarded. She kisses you back, eagerly parting your lips to let you in, almost as if your fight never happened. Nothing seems to have changed, and you don’t quite know why, but you push those thoughts out of your mind. This isn’t about you. This is about Katie.

You pull the thin cover off Katie and hungrily let your gaze wander over her naked body. She rolls onto her back and bites her lip, waiting for you to decide what to do with her. You start by kissing her neck (she giggles), the top of her breasts (she holds her breath), the peaks of her hard nipples (she gasps), and you run your hands all over her body, wherever you can reach, eager to leave no spot untouched. She laughs airily, surprised by your enthusiasm. You laugh too, surprised by how easy she’s making this for you.

You suck one of Katie’s nipples into your mouth and she moans, a hoarse little sound. Your gaze flickers to Javi to see his reaction to it, but he is still standing where you left him, motionless. You only find approval on his face and that, paired with the way Katie’s hands dig into the skin of your arm, tells you you’re doing this right.

Eventually, Javi moves and your heart skips a beat. You didn’t ask him what his plans were, whether he wanted to join Katie and you or whether he wanted to make this about you and her, but you had been hoping he’d be there with you. He stands at the foot of the bed at first, a quiet smile on his lips, then pulls his boxer shorts down. You have to turn your head at an awkward angle to see he’s half hard, and Katie immediately notices she doesn’t have your full attention anymore.

“Hey!” she snaps and grips your jaw. “Eyes on me.”

In the past, you would have felt embarrassed at how loudly you moan in response, but there are no secrets between the three of you anymore. All your desires have been laid open a long time ago. And this morning the only thing you desire is to give Katie anything she wants, anything at all.

You feel the mattress dip as Javi climbs into bed next to you and leans over to give Katie a good morning kiss. They both have their eyes closed, and Katie’s hand finds its way into Javi’s curls. Your heart finds its way into your throat and gets stuck there, just as it always does when you see Katie and Javi kiss. That’s another desire you’ve come to terms with, one that you wear proudly on your sleeve, like one might wear a wedding band on the fourth finger of the left hand or a scar that says, I went through terrible things, but I’m still here. I made it out alive. And you love to watch Katie and Javi together, love to see her writhe beneath him, love to see him lose his mind when she has her mouth wrapped around him. You love that they want you to be a part of it all too, love that they need you to be there.

Javi runs his thumb along Katie’s cheekbone and Katie’s eyes flutter open. “Do you want her to eat you out?” he asks.

Katie’s eyes land on you, glazed over with lust. Her cheeks are flushed now, and when your eyes flicker to her throat, you can see her eagerly fluttering heartbeat beneath her skin, like something trying to free itself, trying to lay itself bare hoping it won’t get crushed. Katie bites her bottom lip (you love it when she does that, you should really tell her that more often) and nods eagerly. You smile in response, then slap Javi’s arm playfully.

“Don’t interfere,” you tell him off, ignoring the eager pull in the pit of your stomach that comes with imagining tasting Katie on your lips. “This is my apology.”

Still, all three of you know how this is going to end, so there’s no need to pretend. You scoot down Katie’s body, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your wake, until you kneel between her spread legs. It’s one of your favorite sights – Katie all open and vulnerable, just for you. The high you get from that is unrivaled.

Katie props herself up on her elbows, her long hair tumbling down her beautiful shoulders. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Shhh, don’t talk,” you tell her, and dip your head down between her legs.

You lick a broad stripe from her opening all the way up to her clit, the taste of her a million times more intoxicating than you had imagined. You let out a groan against her at the same time as she falls back down against the pillow with a sharp exhale. She shifts beneath you, spreading her legs even wider, pushing her hips up into your mouth ever so slightly.

You move up her body again even though your own screams for you to stay where you are and devour her whole. You kiss the soft plane of her stomach, that one birthmark next to her belly button that you love so much, and then you make your way up to her breasts, cupping one and licking across the hard nipple. Katie lets out a soft whimper that makes your heart clench.

You don’t know what makes you look away from Katie and over to Javi, but something must have and what you see makes you clench around nothing, your hips eagerly rocking forward. He’s stroking himself slowly, almost casually, drawing out his own satisfaction, watching the two of you. That’s also something you love – him watching Katie and you, not being shy about the pleasure he gets from it; sometimes he even asks you to put on a little show for him, and you and Katie love doing that because you know it’s not just about the sex for him. He loves to watch the two women he loves fuck each other.

Javi smirks at you, and you pull your mouth off Katie’s nipple with a wet pop, ready to tease him, when she begs, her voice all broken and quivering. “Stop teasing me.”

Your attention snaps right back to her and you kiss her wet nipple. “That’s teasing for you?”

Katie grips the back of your neck, her nails raking your skin. “I thought you wanted to apologize.”

You laugh, but it doesn’t come out all nonchalantly as you had hoped it would. “I said I wanted to take care of you.”

Katie’s eyes are bright with fire that’s impossible to get under control as she considers calling you out on your lie. She pushes up her hips. “Take care of this then.”

When you laugh again, it’s a sound full of relief. Maybe Katie isn’t as angry with you as you had feared. Maybe this can be fixed just as easily as it was almost ruined. You certainly want to try.

You move back down and come to rest between Katie’s legs. She’s glistening with arousal, a sight so inviting you can’t help yourself. You run your fingers through her drenched folds before you push two of them inside, holding her down when she tries to lift her hips to meet your thrust.

“You’re so wet, do you know that?” you ask, your voice deep and hoarse.

Katie props herself up on her elbows again and nods.

“I love it when you’re like this,” you go on, “and I know it’s all because of me. I love how eager you are for me to touch you. I love that you can’t get enough of this.” You curl your fingers and hit that spot that makes Katie’s legs quiver.

You kiss the inside of her knee, her thigh, that little spot just above where she wants your tongue the most. Never once do you stop fucking her with her fingers in a steady rhythm, giving her just enough to build pleasure but never enough to make it all come crashing down. By now, you know her body well enough to do that.

“Please,” Katie whispers, and you can never refuse her anything when her voice sounds like that.

You flick her clit with the tip of your tongue, then massage it gently before sucking it in between your lips, making Kaite moan so loudly you’re sure your neighbors must have heard. You look up at her to find her watching you with wide eyes, her chest and neck covered in a deep, red flush, her mouth hanging open in an attempt to get more air into her lungs, but her shallow breathing tells you she’s failing. Her eyelids flutter when you suck on her clit again, but she keeps them open, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

You pick up a steady pace with your tongue and your fingers, and your eyes wander over to Javi. He’s still watching you, still stroking his now very hard cock in time to your steady licks. You slow down and he matches your pace, you speed up again and he keeps up. He tries to smirk at you, but you flick Katie’s clit with your tongue again, and her responding moan makes his jaw go slack and his eyes flutter shut. You can’t quite describe what you feel, but it sure feels like you’re on top of the world.

You kiss Katie everywhere – her thighs, her soft folds, her clit, her stomach, even her wrist when she reaches out to grab for you. You kiss her everywhere she will allow. Her breathing comes in sharp pants now, and when you lick her sloppily, hungrily, it turns deeper and deeper, sounds you feel in your chest right next to your heart. You move lower, lick across her opening, push the tip of your tongue inside of her, but when you glance up at her, she’s still watching you with her wide eyes.

Javi notices it too: the way Katie still tries to hold on, as if she’s scared of what a loss of control might mean for her. “You’re still holding back. Just let go.” His voice is strained, like he’s doing the same, like he’s postponing his own pleasure for the sake of hers.

Katie’s eyes flicker to you and she blinks slowly, as if she’s only now remembering his presence. Javi doesn’t allow her even a single second to make sense of it all. Instead, he kisses her, slowly, languidly, as if you’re only just getting started. Katie doesn’t move at first, stops breathing all together, and then finally – finally! – she sinks down against her pillow, closing her eyes.

You pull back with a shaky breath, watch as Katie reaches out for Javi, as she grips a handful of his curls, and holds on. Javi growls against her mouth and deepens their kiss, still moving his hand up and down his cock, leaving a wet spot on Katie’s side where the tip brushes her skin. You want nothing more than to watch them, but your bad conscience still gnaws at you, and you decide that Katie has been played with long enough. Without pretense, you push your two fingers back into her and soak up her desperate whimper like a desert soaks up the rain. She clenches around you when you roll her clit under the tip of your tongue and that involuntary response to you makes you moan against her drenched folds.

“I love how you taste in the morning,” you tell her, and she clenches again, signaling you that she heard you. “It’s my favorite taste in the whole wide world.”

Javi’s breathing becomes ragged and he lets out a deep moan, a drawn-out sound that suddenly hitches. You glance up at him and see that he’s coming, thick ropes spilling onto his stomach and Katie’s, his hips bucking up into his fist. Your face grows hot as you watch him, hot with shame at how hard your pussy clenches, eager for him to fill you up.

You don’t get to enjoy that sight, that feeling it gives you, for long though. Katie lets out a gasp and presses her palm to the back of your head, hard, pushing your face down between her legs while rolling up her hips into it. She clenches and clenches and clenches around your fingers and you fuck her through it, unable to draw a single breath as she rides out her orgasm, gushing around your fingers and onto your chin and tongue. Her ragged pants fill up the entire room, pushing all of the air out of it.

When it’s all over, you wipe the back of your hand over your mouth, your heart hammering in your chest. Javi lazily runs his fingers through the mess he’s made on Katie, while she just lies there, eyes closed, her chest heaving. You push yourself in between them, crawling on all fours, until you let yourself fall, facing Javi. You kiss him, and he kisses you back, taking his time to run his tongue over your lips, your chin held tightly between his thumb and forefinger. You know how much he loves that, tasting one of you on the other.

Eventually, Katie curls herself up against your back and you turn so you face her, while Javi places gentle kisses against your neck and shoulders, and whispers, “Well done,” into your ear, so low only you can hear it. Something in your chest expands at that.

You cup Katie’s face and she opens her eyes, her gaze bright. Gently, you wipe away a stray tear making its way down her face. “You’re not my dirty little secret,” you whisper against her lips, your eyes locked onto her face, making sure she understands what you’re trying to tell her. “And I never want you to think that.”

Katie smiles one of her open smiles that always announces to the whole world what she’s feeling, then kisses you, ending it with a quick nip to your bottom lip before you have time to enjoy it.

“Tease,” you mumble at the same time as she says, “I love you.”

It’s strange how easy it can be sometimes. “I love you too,” you reply.

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #katie x reader #katie x you #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #10k follower celebration #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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rendy-a · 10 months ago

Note

amh if possible could hoy make hdcns for the dorm leaders ( separately ) reacting to their mc fem explaining the marvel universe and then puts them to watch the movies hehe ( ..also mc's fav hero is dead-pool ;) bc it gives me laugh imagine their reactions about this xd) , thanks in advance and take care<33

This certainly ended up being a little bit of a crack fic but it ended up amusing. Hope you enjoy it.

At first, he scoffs as such a time-wasting thing as wanting to watch dozens of movies. Where is the educational value in this?

He is just too polite to refuse to listen, so he’ll end up letting you describe all your favorite scenes to him.

You are better off if he doesn’t take an interest because, if he does, he is going to turn into the worst sort of comic book geek. Be ready to have him quote lore from issues of source material at you during any discussion on this from now on.

What do you mean who would win? In Volume 3 #3, Thor clearly defeated Iron Man. Don’t get upset Prefect, I don’t write the lore, I just recite it.

Doesn’t appear to be interested but, if you pause long enough, he’ll prompt you to go on. It’s important to you, so he’ll try to care at least a little.

You’d never tell him this, but you love to banter with him because it reminds you of your favorite character. Sometimes you wonder if he’d be pleased or offended to know who you remind him of.

Movie marathons? Not only is he willing to do them with you, but he is also often the one who suggests them. Don’t be deceived though, it’s not for the movie but for the quality nap time on the couch with you.

Don’t turn that off, Herbivore, I’m watching it. What do you mean I don’t know what’s going on? This is the part where we learn her mom isn’t dead after all. So quiet down and keep the lights off.

Please, he is in Board Game Club with Idia. You think this is the first time he has hmmm’d himself through a conversation about fictional characters?

Wait, you say that this makes a ton of money? Tell him more about this merchandising and licensing. Especially that, what do you call it…ah, Happy Meal.

You can eventually talk him into watching the movies with you for ‘research purposes.’ When you do, you can’t help but notice how teary-eyed he gets at the sad scenes. He’s just so sensitive!

Deadpool is also his favorite character. He feels a sort of connection to certain parts of his story.

So, she chooses to stay with him even though he looks like that? No, I’m not blubbering. No, I don’t need you to cuddle with me. Ok, fine. Just for a little while.

He doesn’t get it, but he still loves it. Sure, you have to explain everything to him three times, but he gets excited over your excitement. Call him any time to talk about your theories on how things would have gone if Thanos had made a different wish on the infinity gauntlet. He doesn’t mind if it’s 3 AM (just don’t let Jamil find out).

Movie marathons turn into parties. Why just watch the movies when you can have themed snacks and dress up too? Hulk smash cakes and Black Widow berry cobbler? Yes, please.

His favorite part of any film is the soundtrack. If he hears a song he likes, he gets up to dance along. It’s pretty disruptive when you are watching the movie but when you see how much fun he is having, you find you don’t really mind after all.

Sorry Prefect, Jamil says we can’t have dance battles in Scarabia anymore. Ooh! But come by the Pop Music Club later. I’m going to play all my favorite songs for Cater and Lilia. Ahaha!

You were worried Vil would dismiss your favorite Marvel films as inferior art, but he is actually rather generous about it. He believes the film should suit the audience and, as so, there is nothing wrong with films like this that serve to entertain the masses.

Still, he can’t help but be critical of everything while you watch. He doesn’t criticize the things you’d talk about with your friends but topics you’d hardly even notice while you watched like the set design and lighting.

You notice Vil seems secretly fond of Loki. You think the idea of the Villain that survives the main movies to get his own spotlight series appeals to him.

No, Potato, I’m just saying the angle isn’t right for this sort of tone. A shot from below would be more effective. Plus…wait, are you having more popcorn? I don’t think so, it’s past the time you can snack before bed.

You had expected Idia to be all in on the Marvel Universe but, at first, he is oddly resistant to it. He’d rather recommend you one of his own favorite hero movies. If you disagree on which is better, he is more than willing to fight with you over why his is best!

After a heated argument, he puts on some of the movies to watch so he can come up with targeted points about why his own shows are better. This does not work out for him as he gets sucked in himself. Next time you meet up, he wants to go over tiny bits of lore and speculate on future plot lines from hints in the past movies.

You might think his favorite would be Iron Man because they both are innovative engineers, but he is a fan of Ant Man. Shrinking down to a size where you can hide from everyone; it’s an introvert’s dream!

Prefect, this is serious business! I’ve drawn up plans. So long as we sleep only 2 hours a day and avoid taking any breaks for food, studying, and showers, we can finish at least three seasons this weekend. True fans like us need to be ready to sacrifice for the shows we love!

There are many things Tusnotarou doesn’t understand, and this is one of them. For starters, he barely knows how to use his smartphone, let alone how to stream movies and shows. So, before you can even start explaining the plot, you must explain the whole concept of series and interconnecting shows to him.

He doesn’t get it, but he is happy to watch with you. Your reactions to the show are far more amusing to him than the actual show. Plus, he feels like he learns so much about the human world from your conversations. A subway, how intriguing an idea. Humans are so fascinating.

Even though he watches politely, he isn’t very impressed. They can fly? Well so can he. Magic, lightning, superstrength? All just part of being a dragon. Perhaps instead of being interested in these superheroes, you’d rather learn more about him?

Lilia, do you think I am a superhero? The Prefect has been explaining this concept to me in great detail lately. I can’t help but notice the many things I have in common with these so-called heroes. Why yes, Lilia, now that you mention it, I am wearing a cape. Another point in my favor. Fu fu fu.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #idia shroud #kalim al asim #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit

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defectivehero · 1 year ago

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dialogue

Sometimes, I hate dialogue. Sometimes, I love it. Will I ever be perfect at it? Absolutely not. Are there a few things I've learned as I write more dialogue? ... Yes. Here are some of those things:

[as always, no pressure to use any of these tips. writing doesn't have a "one size fits all" formula.]

Conversations aren't always super smooth, equal exchanges where everything is reciprocated. Sometimes, individuals cut each other off. Sometimes, one individual is doing most of the talking while the other is mostly listening. Think about your characters and what is unique about them. Then, embrace that in your writing! Things like: a) answering questions two paragraphs later, b) dodging the subject and then coming back to it, and c) saying one thing but meaning another are just a few examples of ways to liven up dialogue. If a character is super energetic and eager, they may dominate the conversation (unknowingly or knowingly). If a character is more withdrawn, they may pause before speaking, speak in smaller fragments, or elect not to speak at all. The unique personalities and circumstances of your character can show through in dialogue.

Consider more than just the dialogue. This is probably my favorite thing to do, because sometimes, I just can't get the words to be perfect. And that's okay! Often, a sentiment is better portrayed through a description of a person's body language—think of gestures, facial expressions, etc—than through written dialogue. Think about a character who has gotten sick as an example. There's two ways you can approach their dialogue: 1) focus on the words they're speaking and use descriptions as accessories, or 2) focus on their body language and use dialogue as an accessory. I often find myself thinking that dialogue has to be the main focus, but it doesn't! For the sick character example, I try thinking about how they look and how they may feel. Often times, those kinds of things can also inspire dialogue! In this case, the sick character may: speak with a more raspy tone; have trouble getting the words out; have an interrupted flow of speech because of sniffles or coughs; shiver with cold or sweat; or have a hazy look to their eyes. Details like these often take away some of the pressure I put on myself to have the perfect dialogue.

Dive into the mechanics of the person's voice. Is their voice raspy, gravelly, deep, high? Is there an underlying emotion showing through? How about the volume—are they speaking loudly, softly, or somewhere in the middle? Do they accentuate their statements in a certain way, such as breaking their statements up into shorter phrases with pauses in between?

Think about the setting. I say something along these lines in virtually every writing tips post, but I think the setting is super important and a great way to add some flavor to a dialogue. Where are your characters? Is there anyone nearby—and if so, how do they respond? Do the characters drop to a whisper to avoid eavesdropping or do they carry on as normal? How about the place where the interaction occurs—is it traditionally loud, quiet, or somewhere in the middle? What time of day is it—does the conversation take place in the early morning (think raspy voices from sleep) or late at night (quieter to avoid noise)? Perhaps it's in midday, but the surrounding area is a street bustling with activity?

Explore the context behind the interaction. Why is the conversation occurring? Is it a purpose or task-focused interaction? Is it context-specific? Are there certain elements of language that can only be understood by certain people (think inside jokes or language specific to a place/occurrence)? Also, evaluate the importance of the interaction taking place and go from there. If you're stuck on a part that isn't necessarily inherent to the story (which I usually am), consider shifting to description instead! You can also use dialogue to reference past occurrences, if that makes things easier. Think of a character getting home from work and speaking to their partner. Their partner asks them about their day and the character explains it: "My boss said..." In this example, you would be able to bypass writing the actual interaction between the boss and the character, and instead introduce it to the audience through the character's retelling of it.

I hope these help! Sorry if they're confusing—dialogue is definitely difficult! Each writer will have their own process, and I'm not claiming that mine is picture-perfect.

#defectivehero #writing #writeblr #writing tips #spilled ink #writers on tumblr

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deer-sprunki-bini · 23 days ago

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Bini's Relationship with… (Part 1)

Oren

Bini and Oren are known to be good friends in Sprunki Island. They are often seen together by other Sprunkis, hanging out with Pinki and Simon. Oren and Bini have a lot of similar interests, thus their friendship.

Bini is fond of Oren's easygoing personality as she finds it fascinating that somebody can be as chill as he is. Meanwhile, Oren is impressed by Bini's weirdness. Even if it does make her seem unapproachable, he thinks it gives her some sort of charm. They are intrigued in each other, which is what began their first interactions. And for a first meeting, they really got along.

As time passed by, Bini was eventually one of the good friends in Oren's group. They listen to music, talk about the cool stuff, or just lay around to do nothing. The simple things brought contentment to both of them, which led to their friendship to grow.

(Oren also influenced Bini in using slang and colloquial terms, and now she uses them a lot when interacting with him. She uses it when talking to the others, though not as much as when she is with the orange Sprunki.)

——————————————————————

As the sun rises high in the perfectly blue skies, Bini sits under a tree where she quietly reads her book. There was not a lot to do for the day since she just finished running her errands and meeting everyone. At the moment, she knew she just needed peace. Even if it makes her look unproductive, she learned to care less.

“Yo,” a voice of a familiar Sprunki was heard nearby.

Bini looked up from her book and she saw Oren. The orange Sprunki was riding his skateboard as he went towards her. She gives him a beam, as well as a wave. “Yo, bro!”

Oren eventually reaches Bini and he hops off his skateboard. He sets it upright by a tree before sitting down beside her. He lets out a sigh as he finds a comfortable position, his eyes averting from the sky to Bini. “Wassup?”

“Eh, just reading. Got nothing to do at the moment,” shrugged Bini as she closed her novel then placed it beside her. “What ‘bout you? Seems like you were doing some stunts.”

“Yeah, I was. I still screw up at that one move,” Oren chuckled as an answer. “Guess I'll have to accept I suck.”

“Nah, bro,” Bini retorted lightly. “You ain't gonna give up like that. I'm rooting for you, and you know it.”

“Pssh, I'm just kidding ‘round lol.” He says with a chill expression.

“Oh okay lmao,” she says.

For a while, the two just lay under the tree in comfortable silence. They were bored in the first place anyway, so a good chill out was what they needed. Words were not necessary to interact, the quiet ambience was more than enough for them.

As Oren listened to some music with his headphones, Bini's ears perked up when she heard bits of the song. She turned to him and said; “Dude, is that the Hozier’s ‘Too Sweet’?”

“Hm?” Oren hums, lowering the volume of his music in the process. “Oh yeah, it is. I think it's catchy. It's got a good beat.”

“Mhm,” Bini playfully grins, “you sure it's not because the song reminds you of Pinki?”

A chuckle escapes Oren's lips, his cheeks now dusted in a rose red hue. He scratches the back of his head before replying to Bini. “Maybe that, too, yeah. But seriously, the song is sick.”

“Totally, I've been listening to it, too,” smiled Bini as she adjusts her sitting position. “The song keeps repeating in my head. At this point, it's my newest addiction.”

“Yuh. You and your random hyperfixations…” Oren shakes his head as he laughs.

“Hey, it ain't my fault my mind keeps jumping into random interests!” Bini replies before laughing along with him. “You're a menace.”

“Lol I know,” he simply shakes his head in amusement.

In the end, they just sit together as they sing along to the songs they both find familiar. From this, we can say that Oren and Bini spent the entire day having karaoke.

——————————————————————

Read the other parts here: 1

#((yep im beginning a series!))#((i hope yall are intrigued :>))#deer-sprunki-bini 🦌#incredibox sprunki #sprunki #sprunki oren #sprunki oc #original character #oc #short fanfic #fanfic #oneshot #short series

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angeliqueiguess · 5 days ago

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Hidden Notes (mk.l)

016. Co-Writer

Mark’s apartment was dimly lit by a single lamp hanging in the corner of the room. On the coffee table lay a messy pile of old notebooks, loose pages, and small notepads filled with scribbles.

Some of the pages were stained with coffee, others were crumpled and worn from time, but all of them carried fragments of a version of Mark that seemed to belong to another life.

Y/n sat cross-legged on the floor, careful not to crush any of the scattered papers. Every page she picked up was like stepping into a time capsule: scratched-out lyrics, half-formed ideas, and lines that didn’t even rhyme but carried a raw, undeniable emotion. Each word seemed to demand attention, begging not to be forgotten.

“This one’s good,” she said, holding up a penciled sheet. “I mean… it’s heavy, but the feeling is real.”

Mark, sitting on the couch with his guitar resting on his lap, leaned forward to take the page from her hand. He read it over in silence, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he let out a quiet scoff.

“I wrote this when I was nineteen,” he murmured. “Back then, I thought everything could be a song.”

Y/n tilted her head, intrigued. “What changed?”

He exhaled deeply, leaning back into the couch as he set the page aside. “I did. The world got too loud, and my voice just… got harder to hear. At some point, it felt easier to stop trying than to keep failing.”

Y/n frowned, carefully placing the papers back on the table. “That voice is still there, Mark. You just needed someone to remind you to listen to it.”

He looked at her with a mix of disbelief and quiet gratitude. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” she said, no hesitation in her voice. “I’ve seen it. The way your words connect with people… the way they connected with me.”

Mark took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, letting out a dry laugh. “You make it sound so simple…”

“It’s not,” Y/n admitted, her smile soft but steady. “But it’s worth it. And you’re not doing it alone.”

Her words hung in the air between them, a quiet truth that neither felt the need to challenge. Mark glanced down at his guitar, his fingers absently brushing against the strings. Then, he picked up the page again, studying it carefully before meeting her eyes.

“What do you think about finishing this one?” he asked, a spark of cautious hope flickering in his expression.

Y/n straightened up, her eyes wide. “Seriously?”

“Yeah…” he nodded, as if convincing himself. “It’s been sitting here unfinished for years. Maybe it’s time to see where it goes.”

Without hesitation, Y/n grabbed her notebook and pen, scooting closer to the table. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

The hours slipped by as they worked together, trading ideas and building off each other’s energy. Y/n hunched over her notebook, searching for the perfect word while Mark experimented with different chords on his guitar. They burst out laughing when one of their lines came out too cheesy and cheered like kids whenever they nailed something that felt just right.

By the time the clock struck midnight, the forgotten fragments had come together as a finished song. Mark strummed the final chords, his voice low but full of intent as he sang the words they’d crafted together.

When the last note faded, he looked up at her. “What do you think?” Y/n’s smile was warm, her chest tight with pride and joy. “I think it’s beautiful. And I think it’s just the beginning.”

Mark set the guitar aside and leaned forward, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that sent a shiver through her. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

She shook her head, her voice soft but firm. “Yes, you could. But I’m glad I got to be a part of it.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the connection between them palpable and electric. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, saying things neither of them was quite ready to put into words. Then, with a small smile, Mark reached for his guitar again.

“Well, co-writer… what’s next?”

Y/n laughed, grabbing one of the older notebooks from the pile.

“Let’s see what other gems nineteen-year-old Mark left behind.”

As they dove back into the stack of unfinished ideas, the room filled with music, laughter, and a shared sense of purpose.

Together, they were taking fragments of the past and turning them into something new, something neither of them could have created alone.

And in doing so, they weren’t just writing songs—they were forging a path forward, one lyric at a time.

previous // next masterlist

angie's note: oooo now she's his co-writer! i would suck at it tbh

taglist open: @thegracerammy @kittydollzz @nmlee @haluenx

#mark imagines #lee mark #marklee #mark #mark lee #nct #nct127 #nctdream #nctimagines #nct mark #mark lee imagines #nct127 mark #nct dream mark #mark nct dream #7d #7dream #dreamscape

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quietwingsinthesky · 5 months ago

Note

hello and good day sir bug! i am considering making a podfic of one of my fics, and i was wondering if u as a podfic veteran have any tips?

oh, sure! let’s see.

1. audacity is the best and easiest audio editing software i’ve ever used. highly recommend.

2. it seems like a good idea to use the “silence audio” option to get rid of bumps and breaths in between sentences but what i’ve found is that it’s less jarring to the listener to instead replace that mistake audio with the ambient hum of wherever you’re recording. specifically wherever you’re recording btw, otherwise it can sound a little off.

3. if you’d like to spend the time, highlight parts of the fic, different characters lines, to cue you to read them differently from the narration, just to keep your flow. or hell, you could reformat the whole fic as a script. have fun with it.

4. depending on how thorough your editing is, it can take longer, but know that it’s probably always going to take at least 3 times as long to edit your audio as it did to record it. that’s part of the process. and it can be a slog sometimes, but it’s worth it!

5. oh! noise removal! best tool in your kit! you select a space of audio where you aren’t speaking, get a sample, and then apply that removal to the whole audio. it’ll help quiet down the background noise. you can run it a twice to get it real low, depending on where you’re recording. second best tools in your kit are the compressor/normalization tools. compressor will even out your audio peaks and such so everything is about the same volume level or close to it, and then the normalization will raise the whole clip to whatever audio level you like. I’ve been setting mine to about -3 dB.

that’s all i can think of rn :) have fun anon!!!

#ask

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elvenxwarrior · 2 years ago

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My Normie (Part One) - Leviathan

Masterlist

You can also find this posted on my AO3!

Part Two

Leviathan had only seen '[Name]' a few times over her stay in the Devildom. She never seemed to talk unless it was to Diavolo or Lucifer regarding important business and was very quiet in class but attentive.

But in the few times of seeing her, Leviathan thought she was beautiful.

"Probably a normie though..." He'd always think to himself.

Little did he know, that wasn't the case.

If he had ever stopped by to visit her room, he'd find a large Sucre Frenzy poster on her wall beside her desk and several Ruri-chan figures neatly littering the shelves where she kept her manga volumes and anime box sets. Assassination Classroom manga took up a whole shelf in her small bookcase whilst a second shelf was dedicated to her games and smaller, handheld consoles. As a centrepiece to the games shelf, a copy of Diabolik Lovers stood proud with a PlayStation Portable™ laid in front of it.

[Name] would usually be found in her room, either wearing her headphones to listen to anime openings and game soundtracks while reading or studying. Sometimes she'd be at her desk gaming; almost always in her oversized Ruri-chan hoodie.

Truth be told? [Name] felt the same way about the Envious Third-Born. As soon as she heard him talking about TSL and how he seemingly had an eidetic memory for it all, she was astounded.

She tapped her pen to her lips, deep in thought, "Would he want to meet me if anime was involved?"

————————————

[Name] Hey, Levi. Leviathan Hey [Name]. [Name] I got the new collectors edition of TSL, wanna come watch? Leviathan YOU WHAT? OMW NOW

————————————

No more than 15 minutes passed before there was a knock at your door.

"Come in!" You yelled, unable to tear yourself from writing your game's cheat-sheet and studying simultaneously.

"You said you had the New TSL Collector’s Editio-..."

Leviathan's words had gotten caught in his throat upon seeing your room.

'This is almost everything I like too...'

You saved and quit your game, sliding your cheat-sheet into a folder beside your monitor, "I do indeeeEEEEED."

You suddenly felt flustered, it only took you turning around and seeing who was in your room to lose your confidence. You hadn't seen his text saying he was coming!

"[N-Name], are you okay?" He asked at your sudden shock and the strange way you had given your response.

"I, uh... I didn't think you'd actually come..." Your voice trailed off quietly, a red hue taking over your face.

"You have the new Collector's Edition of TSL, of course I'm going to come! It's got deleted scenes and behind the scenes with animations, interviews with the English and Japanese voice actors, bloopers-"

Leviathan proceeded to rattle off all of the different features that this version had, evidently excited.

When he finally stopped, you gestured to your TV and games console, (gotta love how they double-up as DVD players!) "So... shall we?"

Levi nodded enthusiastically, following you to plonk down on the floor with all your pillows and blankets.

When you had turned around after putting the disc in, he saw your pastel pink hoodie was a Ruri-chan hoodie.

"WOAH- Where did you get that hoodie?!"

You looked down, pulling the oversized fabric out to look down at the design, "Uh... it was from an event-based prize draw; it was the 4th place prize, I think?"

"You made it into The Top 5?! Impressive! I was Number 1!"

It seemed the more you and the Envious Third Born would nerd out, the less shy you became and the less awkward the atmosphere was. You were both talking about TSL as each scene went along, discussing the plot, the characters alongside various other aspects.

You were sitting very close.

It wasn't until you were practically leaning your chest on his shoulder that you both realised how close you actually were. Clearing your throat you turned to sit normally.

"Uh... [Name]. You can... lean on me like that... if you want. It was... kinda comfy." Leviathan stuttered out, awkwardly pausing to think about his phrasing.

"Uh... sure!" You went back to lean on him and tried not to squeal. When he puts his arm around you, you let a small squeak slip out.

He hit the pause button on the controller, turning to you slightly, "Are... you okay?"

You nodded, unsure of what- no, unsure of how to say how you were feeling.

'Yeah Levi, I'm completely fine! Just trying not to die like a fangirl meeting her boyband crush at the fact you put your arm around and cuddled me. I'm in love with you!'

Leviathan leaned in slightly, staring intently into your eyes, "[Name]..."

"Le... Levi..."

You both felt like an anime protagonist reaching the peak of the plot where they finally confess to their love interest. Lord, how much more cliche can this night get?!

"[Name], can I..."

You tilted your head, "Can you...?"

You could feel your heart beating heavily against your chest; Levi could probably feel it. You moved forward, bringing your face closer to his, the brightness of the TV screen being your only light in the room.

"Kiss you?" / "Kiss me?"

A gasp escaped you both, before happily kissing him; the excitement of the situation caused you to knock him over, he was now leaning back on his forearms with a hand threaded into your hair and you on top of him.

You parted from the kiss, giggling sheepishly and pulled him back upright. "Sorry about that..."

"I-It's fine!" Levi was extremely flustered, "It was nice!"

There was an awkward silence...

"[Name]?" / "Levi?"

"You go first." / "You first."

You both laughed, "Count of three?" He nodded.

"One...

Two...

Three..."

"I like you!" Was the simultaneous statement. You pressed your head to his chest, smiling ear to ear.

"But... I thought you thought I was a normie?"

"Yeah, but [Name]... you're my normie."

#ao3 fanfic #ao3 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #female reader #x reader #fem reader #fluff #x female reader #om x reader #obey me x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #omswd fanfic #omswd fluff #leviathan #obey me leviathan

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whumpr · 9 months ago

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TUaTWSI Chapter One: Night Shift

"No one listens to me here.” Mrs. Brewer said after a moment. Tyler set the remote down. He placed his arms on her bed to look at her. “I’m listening.” He said. “What do you need?”

This is part one! Part 2 here! Read in chronological order on Ao3.

Contains: Death, Hospital Scene, Hospice scene

“Do you like stuff like this?”

The television on the wall was playing old westerns. Mrs. Brewer watched with her hands folded over her stomach. She turned to look at the man in the chair next to her, her eyes the last to turn from the TV. Quiet, tinny gunshots rang out from the speaker on the remote in her lap.

Tyler raised his eyebrows, looking between her and the television. Mrs. Brewer looked at the show again–a desperado dressed in all black fell backwards in a cloud of smoke, toppling in a dramatic roll across a bar. Mrs. Brewer curled her lip and looked back at Tyler.

“Do you like stuff like this?” Tyler repeated, louder this time.

“I can’t–” She shook her head and frowned, motioning vaguely to her ears and turning back to the T.V. “Can’t hear you.”

Tyler reached forward, placing his hand over the remote and turning the volume down until it was barely audible. She looked at him again.

“Do you like this show?” He asked.

“No.” She answered. “Not– not when it’s all they show all day.”

Tyler took the remote in his hand. “Alright then,” He answered. “What do you like to watch?”

“I don’t know.” Mrs. Brewer turned away from the TV. She looked past Tyler to the snowfall just outside the window.

Tyler pressed the up arrow on the remote. He flipped through more westerns–then several sports stations, one after the other.

“Gracious,” He whispered to himself, “How much football needs to be on at once?”

“No, no, I don’t want that.” Mrs. Brewer interjected, loud enough to make Tyler flinch. She made no move for the remote herself.

“I know, I know. I wouldn’t want to watch this either.” Tyler said, flipping through the channels just as patiently. “Does a cooking show sound nice?”

“No, no. I’ve done enough cooking in my life. I don’t need to watch someone else do it.”

“Okay…” Tyler whispered. He manually keyed in a set of zeroes on the remote, taking himself back to channel 3. He went through each station slowly, from the beginning.

“Just say when.” He offered.

The lower channels were mostly late night news and reruns of 90’s sitcoms; she didn’t seem too interested in any of them, but she was watching. Tyler wondered if she just appreciated the effort being put in.

The channels had shifted their focus to shopping, old horror movies, and home improvement shows. Tyler had rested on a nature documentary when voices approached in the hallway. Quickly, he set the remote back down on Mrs. Brewer’s pillow and sat back in his chair.

It took her a moment to notice that he wasn’t browsing channels for her anymore, and even longer to find the words to complain about it. Two nurses entered the room before she could speak, she turned her focus to them.

“She doesn’t typically need much past the basics.” The first nurse said over his shoulder to the other. “Help me change her sheets and then I’ll grab Shelby so you can take your break.”

“Oh, I don’t need it. I never take breaks, it throws me off.” The other nurse offered–a trainee with bright eyes that contrasted with their supervisor’s.

“Will one of you change the channel?” Mrs. Brewer asked.

The older nurse laughed, stripping the sheets off the corner of Mrs. Brewer’s mattress and replacing them with the clean ones. “You want your break.” He answered, “I don’t know where you worked before, but my people get their breaks.”

The younger nurse sidestepped Tyler. Tyler lifted his feet off the floor as they reached back with a foot to roll the chair closer to the window. He couldn’t see much past the younger nurse now. That was fine. He didn’t like seeing nurses move his clients–there was something unsettling about it.

“Every night?” The younger nurse asked. Tyler looked out the window. Snow was gathering on the sidewalk outside.

“Every night.” The older nurse answered. “All your breaks.”

The two nurses didn’t stay for long, and they didn’t talk much as they worked. For a while it was just the gentle narration of the documentary, and the sound of the heater running at the window.

The younger nurse stepped away from Mrs. Brewer, stopping for a moment to look out the window; the older nurse stepped back, old sheets folded in his hands.

“Will you please change the TV?” Mrs. Brewer asked again.

“Where’d you say you were from?” The older nurse asked.

“Tennessee.” The younger nurse answered.

“Not used to snow like this?”

The two rounded the corner, chatting quietly about the snow, and how grateful they were to count on trains instead of having to drive in it.

Mrs. Brewer watched them leave. She didn’t say anything as the room grew quiet again, but as she looked back to the TV, her lips were pulled into a tight frown.

“They probably didn’t hear you.” Tyler offered. He pulled his chair closer again and picked up the remote. The next channels were mostly news stations.

"No one listens to me here.” Mrs. Brewer said after a moment.

Tyler set the remote down. He placed his arms on her bed to look at her.

“I’m listening.” He said. “What do you need?”

Mrs. Brewer didn’t answer him. Her frown only deepened as she looked down to her hands in her lap. He watched for tears for a moment, but let his eyes drift to the clock on her nightstand when he was sure she wasn’t crying.

It was 7:30. It was dark out. The hallway outside was quiet and the lights were comfortable and dim.

“Are you tired?” He asked, “Do you need to rest?”

Mrs. Brewer sighed and shook her head. She looked past him to the window, and he turned around to follow her gaze to the snow gently falling outside.

“Oh,” He looked back at her. “Are you ready to go?”

She kept staring out the window, her lips tight. “It’ll be too cold out there.”

“No, no.” Tyler answered quietly, “It won’t be too bad.” He stood up, taking Mrs. Brewer by the hand and slipping his arm under her back. He helped her to sit up, then to her feet. She only needed his hand to stand up. That was good, she must be feeling lighter already. Slowly, he walked towards the door with her.

He looked back to her bed as he stepped into the hallway. She was motionless–peaceful looking for the first time that night. He looked down at his hand to her soul resting in his palm, a glass-like orb about the size of a baseball, full of red light and swirling, violet clouds.

He ran a gentle hand over the glassy surface; the clouds twisted and lazily followed his fingers.

Tyler sighed gently and brought the soul close to him.

“Let’s go, Ms. Brewer.”

#whump #my writing #tyler whitman #tyler #The universe and those who serve it

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lemonwrap · 2 years ago

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Come Into The Water - Oneshot

A part of the Tongues & Teeth AU, but the previous fics aren't required to understand this. Please be advised that this contains NSFW content. Don't read it in public, lol.

Read it on Ao3!

Soap is leaving tomorrow.

That’s a simple fact of their situation. It’s the end of Soap’s three month leave, and he’s departing tomorrow.

Ghost has landed a job, so he won’t be completely helpless with Soap gone. It’s a simple job, one that doesn’t require much, if any talking. Just stocking shelves in the back of the local drug store. His employer had accepted the excuse of being born a mute surprisingly easily, even without any documentation, and didn’t seem to give a damn about Ghost not having any references or previously listed jobs. Maybe it’s just that small town kindness.

Soap had been pleased. He had encouraged Ghost to do what he wanted, and if he wanted a job, to get one. Ghost doesn’t want to be a burden. Not after everything Soap has done for him. So he had applied for a couple of jobs, wanting to be able to support himself, too, and not rely on Soap for everything, especially after he had taken Ghost to see his family’s graves with no complaint.

Soap pads into the living room where Ghost is idly reading a book. He reads often now. Soap’s eyes find his face, and there’s something soft in his eyes. Ghost isn’t wearing his mask today. Some days are hard, and he can’t stand the idea of someone, even Soap seeing his face, so he dons either the face mask or the balaclava. But today is a good day. He still wears the face mask out in public, and usually a hat and sunglasses, too, but the locals didn’t seem to mind much, and rarely commented on his appearance when he managed to bring himself to be out in public.

He’s still adjusting to being a civilian, but he likes the mundane, in a strange way. He likes it because he’s never had it before.

Ghost looks up and gives Soap an acknowledging dip of his head. It’s nearly four in the afternoon, late enough to be considering dinner.

Are you making dinner tonight? Ghost asks Soap. Ghost cooks sometimes, although Soap definitely has some critiques about his cooking.

“Aye. I’m gonnae do something I haven’t cooked for you before.”

What is it?

“You’re going to laugh,” Soap protests as he sits down on the couch next to Ghost.

I won’t, Ghost insists.

“Fine. It’s called rumbledethumps.”

Ghost bursts out laughing, unable to help himself.

“God, I knew you’d fucking laugh,” Soap complains, but he’s smiling, his eyes bright and lovely. Ghost calms enough to breathe properly, his laughter subsiding.

Ridiculous name, he says.

“I didnae name it,” Soap says, not quite indignant, obviously still in a jesting mood. He gets a little closer and leans his head on Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost sets his book down on the rickety coffee table and settles in with Soap, linking their hands together as they cuddle on the couch. Ghost still isn’t one hundred percent used to the affection, but he likes it nonetheless.

Ghost ends up dozing on the couch for a while with his partner, vaguely watching whatever channel Soap had been watching the previous night. It’s set to some terrible romcom that he isn’t particularly interested in. He’s slowly learning what he likes, and he’s learned that he doesn’t really care for romcoms.

Eventually, Soap sighs and gets up, leaving Ghost with a cold spot on his side where he had been leaning up against him.

“I’m gonnae make dinner,” he says, and disappears into the kitchen. Ghost listens to the quiet sounds of Soap cooking, just barely heard over the TV’s low volume.

He must’ve fallen asleep, because he’s being shaken awake.

“It’s dinnertime,” Soap says. “C’mon. I made it good, since it’s my last day. The food on base is gonnae be shitty compared to this.”

Ghost gets up, stretching out his limbs before ambling into the kitchen and dishing some food onto a plate. He smiles a little at the name. Rumbledethumps. Absolutely absurd. He plops down at the table with Soap, right across from him. They dig in. Ghost still can’t taste the food, but it’s pleasantly hot and doesn’t have a weird texture, so he decides it’s alright.

“Is it good? I haven’t cooked this dish in ages,” Soap chats. “My ma used to make it a lot when I was a kid, though.”

Ghost nods his head, taking another bite of his food. Soap finishes his meal first, as always. Ghost can barely finish his plate, having a meager appetite as usual, but he appreciates Soap’s cooking greatly. Soap gets up and puts their plates in the sink. Ghost is about to get up and leave when Soap speaks.

“I’ve got a surprise, by the way,” Soap says, and Ghost perks up, curious. “Hold on.”

Soap opens up a cabinet and pulls out a bottle.

“Tada! Scotch,” he says, showing off the bottle. Ghost smiles.

“You up for a drink?”

Ghost nods his head. A drink sounds nice. He doesn’t drink or smoke, too used to not being allowed luxuries of any sort. It’s strange to be able to do what he wants, when he wants, and to enjoy himself. Ghost is still getting used to his freedom.

Soap grabs two glasses from the cabinet and ambles into the living room, setting their glasses down on the coffee table next to Ghost’s book.

“Drink up,” Soap says, cheerfully pouring him a glass. They sit down on the couch and clink their glasses together, and Ghost feels a small ache in his heart. It’d be a while before he could enjoy himself with Soap again after this. He’ll be gone for who knows how long. He scootches a little closer to Soap, so close that their thighs are touching.

They lounge on the couch next to each other, sipping and enjoying their drinks. The scotch burns nicely as it goes down Ghost’s throat and he finishes the glass off.

After a few minutes, Soap’s hand creeps onto his thigh, and Ghost swallows, maybe a little nervously. He gathers his bravery and puts his empty glass to the side, runs his hand up Soap’s arm and up to his neck, threading his fingers through Soap’s grown-out mohawk. They’re so close that they’re breathing each other’s air. Soap stills, as if waiting for something, so Ghost just closes the gap and kisses him. Soap kisses back, his lips gentle against Ghost’s. His hand strays further up his thigh and plays with the button on Ghost’s jeans, making him flush slightly. He hasn’t thought much about being with Soap in that capacity. He isn’t against it, but he also isn’t sure if Soap would really want him like that. He’s not exactly a model.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Soap says, voice low.

Don’t, Ghost signs, and Soap seems to take this to heart. He begins to grab at Ghost’s shirt, helping him pull it off, but Ghost stills, his previously aroused mood mostly vanishing as he becomes self-conscious. He feels every scar on his body, from the burns to the lashes, and a burning sensation of shame courses through him as he avoids Soap’s gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Soap asks, noticing.

My scars, Ghost says. He knows there’s too many of them, and he knows that they’re not pretty. The scars on his body are much worse than the minimal ones on his face, the ones he’s been brave enough to show Soap. He wants to put his shirt back on. He knows Soap has at least seen glimpses of his body before, but Ghost has never shown him explicitly.

“I dinnae care about them,” Soap says. “I care about you.”

Ghost hunches in on himself as Soap’s eyes rake over his body before settling on his face, sympathetic.

“Can I touch you?”

Ghost nods his head slowly.

“I’ll show you,” Soap says. “Fuck. You’re right bonnie, you know that?”

Translation? Ghost asks, smiling somewhat, the shame fading. Soap still wants him.

“You’re gorgeous.”

This time, their kiss is full of hunger as they meet, hands tangling in each other’s hair. Soap reaches down and unbuttons Ghost’s jeans, his hand finding Ghost’s boxer-clad erection. Ghost stiffens a little, but tries to relax into it.

“We should probably take this somewhere else,” Soap says, his eyes full of mischief and lust. “The bed’s more comfortable.”

Ghost nods and follows him into Soap’s room. It’s more like their room at this point, as Ghost rarely sleeps in his own bed. Soap pushes him down onto the bed, and Ghost lets him pull his jeans and boxers off. Ghost feels a little shy, if he’s honest, which is laughable. A man like him shouldn’t be shy. Soap hovers over him, kissing him.

Your clothes, Ghost says, and tugs at his shirt. Soap chuckles and pulls it off, before unceremoniously taking off his pants, too. His cock strains against his boxers, and Ghost eyes it, a mixture of nervousness and arousal. Ghost runs his hand along the waistband of Soap’s boxers, meeting his eyes, and when Soap nods, he pulls them down. His cock springs forth, thick and standing up proudly.

Ghost hesitates for a second before he runs his hands up Soap’s body, ghosting over his skin, near his cock but not touching it. Soap allows it for a moment, but then he eagerly presses Ghost back against the bed, leaning over him, caging him with his arms. He runs his lips over Ghost’s scarred skin, placing kisses here and there, moving downwards. By the time Soap is pressing a kiss to Ghost’s inner thigh, purposefully avoiding his half-hard cock, Ghost is quivering slightly.

“Still good?” Soap asks, mouthing along his thigh, scraping so close to his cock. Ghost wants more. He wants Soap. He nods his head.

“How far do you want to take this?” Soap asks him. “I’m fine if—“

I want it all, Ghost says, flushing hotly.

Soap’s eyes almost visibly darken at this, his pupils wide and blown.

This seems to ignite a fire in Soap. He strokes Ghost’s cock in his hand, before he abruptly takes it in his mouth. Ghost makes an embarrassing noise, his muscles flexing as he tries not to squirm under the pleasure. Soap only keeps it up for a few blissful minutes before he pulls back, his lips glossy and his cheeks flushed red.

“Wannae finger you,” Soap utters, and Ghost doesn’t think he can blush any further. “That okay?”

Ghost nods his head yes. He stares up at the ceiling as Soap’s hands run up his body and cup his ass, before they disappear for a long moment. Ghost is left hard and anticipating, until he hears a click and something cool touches him. He jumps, but Soap soothes him with a hand against his thigh. The finger circles around his hole before gently breaching him. The stretch is strange, but not painful. He gasps, his thighs quivering even harder as Soap’s finger pumps in and out slowly. It’s not long before Soap adds a second finger, scissoring him open, leaving Ghost to try and stifle his whimpers.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” Soap says, before diving back in and taking Ghost’s cock in his mouth again as he fucks him open with his fingers. Ghost can’t help but gasp, muscles twitching. Then, Soap’s fingers brush over something that makes pleasure shoot straight up his spine. Ghost lets out a sudden, sharp cry, and Soap immediately pulls off and stills his fingers.

“Should I stop?” Soap asks. Ghost raises his head to shake it.

It felt good, Ghost tells him. Do it again.

Soap obeys. He does it again, and again, and again. Ghost can’t stop his whimpering, thighs threatening to close, hands clutching the sheets as he lays on his back and takes it. He wants to call out Soap’s name, his real name, but all that comes out is a strangled noise. But it’s not one of fear or pain. The heat keeps building in his gut, frighteningly fast as Soap swallows him down and adds a third finger. Ghost whines. He taps Soap frantically a few times, and Soap pulls out and off immediately, looking up at him anxiously.

“Too much?”

No, I just don’t want to come yet, Ghost admits, embarrassed.

Soap grins, running a finger up his cock and making Ghost shudder lightly. “Glad to know you liked it.”

Soap gets up and fumbles around for something, and Ghost hears the sound of a wrapper. Soap leans over him, spreading Ghost’s legs around his waist as Ghost lays on his back, Soap’s cock hard and huge against his backside.

“You ready?” Soap asks. Ghost nods and shyly grinds against Soap’s cock, making him suck in a sharp breath.

“Just tell me if you wannae stop,” Soap tells him. Ghost simply grabs his hand and leads it down to his ass.

“Wannae treat you good, make you miss me,” Soap says, hushed. Ghost will miss him either way, no matter what.

Soap takes his cock in hand and slowly inches it into Ghost’s hole. He’s at Soap’s mercy as he works him open, and it’s a little scary. Ghost holds on tight, breathing through the intense stretch, Soap so hot and thick inside him that it makes him sweat. It’s on the verge of being painful, but not quite.

“Doin’ great, Si,” Soap moans out, stroking Ghost’s slightly flagging cock and getting it to harden again as he pushes the last inch inside. He gives Ghost a long moment to adjust, waiting until Ghost himself rocks back onto Soap’s cock, shivering. Ghost’s legs tremble as he bashfully covers his face with one arm.

“C’mon, lemme see you,” Soap says, pulling his hips back and then thrusting in. Ghost lets out a strangled gasp, but uncovers his face. Only for Soap.

“Doin’ so amazin’,” Soap compliments. “Feels so, ah, good.”

He moves a bit faster, rolling his hips slowly but deeply. Ghost’s body jolts at the pleasurable assault, and suddenly his back is uncontrollably arching as Soap hits something absolutely electric. He scrambles to tighten his grip on Soap’s arms, shaking, ankles locking together behind Soap’s back.

“That your spot?” Soap asks breathily, beginning to focus his thrusts. All Ghost can do is nod, unable to sign a single word. His nails dig crescent shapes into Soap’s skin as he holds on for dear life, gasping and sobbing out his pleasure. He probably isn’t a virgin, but he can’t remember ever feeling like this before.

Johnny, more, please, please, please, he manages to let go to sign quickly, but he grabs Soap’s arms again, overwhelmed, when his cock continuously brushes up against his prostate, unrelenting. All Ghost can do is watch Soap’s face, all knitted brows, flushed skin, and bitten lips. The pleasure is becoming nearly unbearable, and he lets out a loud sound and clutches at Soap’s hand as a warning. He can’t hold it anymore. But Soap doesn’t stop, just keeps up that relentless pace that makes Ghost moan. Throwing his head back, Ghost shudders and shakes as he cums untouched all over his stomach in hot, thick ropes.

“There you go, Si, so perfect, so beautiful,” Soap says, still thrusting in and in, making Ghost cry out in overwhelmed ecstasy. It’s not long before Soap cums into the condom with a loud, unabashed moan. He pulls out slowly, and Ghost winds down from his orgasm, panting heavily, still laying on his back as Soap untangles their limbs.

He hears Soap shuffling around and leaving the room, and a small bolt of panic runs up his spine. He sits up, still weak in the knees. Is he leaving? He relaxes when Soap comes back and climbs into bed, running a cool washcloth over his heated skin, cleaning him up. Suddenly overcome with something, Ghost grabs him and presses a tender kiss to Soap’s lips.

He pulls back to look at Soap, and their eyes meet, soul searching. Fuck, he doesn’t want to let him go. He can’t let him go. Not after everything.

Don’t go, Ghost signs, no, begs, grasping Soap’s hand in his own.

“Okay,” Soap says after a long moment. “I’m yours, Simon.”

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