#So one being okay with physical touch and the other not being okay with physical touch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

callsignmagnolia · 3 days ago

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Safe Harbor

Synopsis: Naval Aviators need love too. Everyone can learn that, except one.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader, platonic! Daggers x Reader, no physical descriptions, no use of Y/N, readers call sign is Harbor

Warnings: Jake being a bit of a jerk? none really, just fluff

Word Count: 3.7k

The Hard Deck during Navy Week is overstimulating to say the least. Countless sailors pour in at every entrance, the music is played a few decimals higher, and the rowdiness exponentially increases with each round. In seven days time, Penny makes up for any unpaid bar tabs for the entire year and sets aside enough for a vacation and tuition for Amelia. For the regulars, it’s a time of great joy, for the first few days- tension easies from shoulders, old friends are welcomed, and laughter flows out, mixing with the Pacific breeze. However, by the times day four rolls around, people begin to grow weary, craving the calm ease of their regular place again.

In the corner booth, the Daggers are sorting out who has more energy. Their little group shows a wide variety of exhaustion with the swarming socialites around them. Rooster hasn’t played piano yet tonight, a demarkation that he was pulling inwards for rest. Phoenix is eyeing the pool table, waiting for a break but not willing to go jockey for a position. Hangman and Coyote on the other hand are as lively as ever, challenging some poor LTJG to a game of darts that she is bound to loose.

“Maybe we should warn her about how ruthless those two are,” Payback breathes out, taking his seat on the stool at the end of the booth as he hands you whatever fruity miracle Penny was able to concoct in this chaos.

“She’ll figure it out or embarrasses them herself. I don’t have the wherewithal to care right now,” Phoenix mutters more to the ceiling than to the rest of the table. “Are you going to put all of these data points into your spreadsheet, Harbor?” She glances your way with a side eye and a smirk.

“Nah. Everything may be data but I see no need to boost their ego anymore than it already is by spending pages on them two alone.” You throw a smile her way, settling your back against the aged, painted wood of the booth.

Being sent to North Island had radically changed your life. It started as a short six-month study the Navy had ordered to understand the emotional components and needs of their elite pilots. You flew with them on training runs, you stood next to them as they were reprimanded, you held their hand during medical exams if they asked- you had become part of them in a way that broke your heart as your original term came to an end. Earning a permanent contract with the Daggers was a second chance at building an enduring life with purpose, helping people with a mission keep themselves from disappearing into the weight of it all, rather than just bouncing around from grant to contract, trying to care for people as well as you could before you were called elsewhere.

A warm sensation runs from your shoulder down your spine as a familiar cheek bone rests against your clavicle. A soft mop of well kept brown hair tickles your neck as glasses are pulled off and set on the table in between beer glasses and a basket of fries. Your hand naturally reaches to push a loose stand behind his ear, pressing a lingering touch to his cheek as he sighs against you, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“So tired,” Bob almost whimpers into your shirt as his breathing shifts to a slower rhythm and his heart beats settles as the noise is tuned out.

“I know, honey. It’s okay, we’ll get Rooster to go pull Bagman off his high horse here soon and we can get you back to the barracks for bed.” you promise him.

“How come Bob always gets your attention first on Hard Deck nights and the rest of us have to stand in line?” Fanboy huffs trying to shove Phoenix from the prime seat of the booth to no avail.

“Because he isn’t afraid to have everyone else see him cuddled up against Harbor like some of us who are still working though our fragile masculinity,” Payback almost deadpans to his buddy who looks like he is trying to overcome his fear as he gazes at Bob’s position longingly. You meet his eyes with a soft smile before assuring him that there were head scratches waiting for him when you all got back to post.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hangman grimaces across the room to the scene of his team mates, who are supposedly the world’s best fighter pilots, all melting into the side of a woman who doesn’t even sleep with any of them. Harbor was not Hangman’s favorite, that was no secret. The whole squad knew it and heard the sarcasm that dripped from his words whenever he spoke to her, letting her callsign roll off his tongue with a hint of disdain.

“Why don’t you just swallow your pride and go ask her for something, man. You might not want to fall asleep on her shoulder like Bob but she’ll sit with you in medical and advocate for you when your head is spinning from a concussion,” Coyote clasps a hand on his shoulder as he hands him another beer. “I gotta tell you- it’s a sweet thing to have someone standing up for you and managing all the paperwork when you can’t even think straight. She even submitted my medical claims to my VA file for when I retire.” Hangman pauses for a moment, throwing a cocky look to the side as he sends a dart straight to the bullseye behind his back.

“The day I can’t do that, you can take me to Harbor because I will no longer be a man and will have reverted to my infantile state of needing cuddles.” His eye roll is caught from across the bar as the rest of the Daggers holed up in the booth are making their quiet escape towards the door. Rooster moves you to walk on his opposite side, protecting you from the loathing emitting from the other side of the bar.

“Find your own way home, Hangman. Coyote, move it or loose it,” he hollers as he pushes the double door open for you to walk under his arm, Coyote shrugging and jogging to catch up with the rest. For a moment, Seresin considers that it would be nice to have someone to tell gruff Navy doctors to be gentler. He shakes the thought out of his mind, painting a flashy smile on his face as he walks towards the bar, but the loneliness settles on his chest.

The first six months with the daggers had been strictly business- mostly. They might be phenomenal pilots but you were phenomenal at identifying their needs and articulating that in a way the Navy would be confident investing resources into meeting. You were calculated. Everything was data that could be leveraged. You flew with them and saw what control didn’t sitting in Comanche miles away. You wrote down the twinges, the jumps, the bruises, and handed the detailed list to them all before medical appointments to make sure they were taken care of and everything was documented. You reminded them all how closely mental and physical condition tied into their ability to fly well and to come home.

While they struggled to trust an outsider, one day stood as the fulcrum between weariness and full embrace. The anniversary of Goose’s death was a silent day of remembrance for the Daggers. Everyone was kinder, flew softer, and stood closer after they made it back safely. No one spoke about it but it was obvious- everything was weightier. Their wingman was mourning his father and fellow aviator. They were faced to deal with the realities of their job- that even training wasn’t safe. You didn’t know what today was as you sat on the tarmac, watching what was supposed to be the last few maneuvers before your contract ended.

Every movement was textbook. Without flaw. Like the sorrow was making them all fly better to honor the day. You were captivated by the soliloquy being painted before your very eyes. Suddenly, Roosters jet lurched and seemingly began to drop out of the sky. Your feet were under you in a second as you watched- you had no radio to understand truly what was happening- the scene unfolding like the climax of a blockbuster film. From start to finish, the whole ordeal was a total of 23 minutes but it felt like hours gripping your necklace as you watch him skillfully land a smoking plane.

The runway became a blur of crew as they covered the aircraft in foam, Rooster climbing out as fast as the blood in his eyes would allow. As he stumbled to the ground, you ran to meet him, pressing your hand to the gash on his forehead. Your eyes meet the blown wide brown of his own, whispering quiet nothings as you waited for the medics to arrive. You stayed until they pulled you away from him. You followed him to medical. You sat in a chair in the corner of the room during debriefing. You watch the hollow look settle on him as Phoenix tried to push a plate his way. You had gone before him and set out a towel and fresh civies for him in the locker room.

They all noticed. They noticed your lack of questions. They noticed the way you didn’t leave ever, even when your work day was done, even to wash off the blood you had accidentally smeared across your neck and shirt. They noticed how you didn’t eat, but sat beside him with a tote bag with snacks for whenever he was ready. They noticed how you read him, how you saw that this was deeper than a training incident to him. You didn’t even know the gravity of the day, yet you were kind and present.

Rooster had wandered into the briefing room instead of to his bronco to head home after his shower, sat shrouded in darkness, with the glow of his original training run emitting from the projector. You pushed the door open gently, with controlled movements as to not startle him. His face gave him away- he was fighting back tears- as you sat in the chair next to him, pulling your legs up to your chest. Heartbeats and shallow breathes are the only sounds filling the quiet room. Your fingers carefully reach for his own, gingerly lacing your hands into his rough, calloused ones that were aching from the pressure he put on the throttle earlier. He grasped onto your hand like a lifeline, your head coming to rest between his shoulder and jaw. The tears he was holding back fell like rain, splashing onto his lap. You didn’t move until Rooster did, nor did you speak until he did.

The Daggers however watched carefully from the small window in the door way, entranced by the vulnerability and safety of the moment. Hangman stood at the back of group, gritting his jaw, as jealousy crawled up his throat.

“It’s like she’s a harbor for him. Right there, he is safe from the storms,” Bob whispers without much thought to the profoundness of what he is saying.

The next morning, her helmet that she always wears is painted with Harbor- her own callsign. Two weeks later, her permanent contract is signed. No one talks about how she got the name, but they all know. Just as no one talks about the paint matching her helmet that dots Payback’s backpack, but they all know.

Habits form slowly but surely. You still keep sections of your notebook reserved for each of the Daggers- things they need, pictures of great moments, their preferences, their allergies. You manage their appointments and documentation. You make them cakes for their birthdays and accompany them to less than desirable meetings.

They all lean on you in different ways. Rooster asks you to help him find all the Naval documentation on his dad. You compile it into a book as if Nick Bradshaw was the most important figure in history. You hold his hand as he looks through old pictures and let his tears fall into your hair tangled under his jaw. On his parent’s birthdays, you make him their favorite dessert- key lime pie- and he swears his own mother handed you the recipe as a final “I love you” to her little boy.

Phoenix wants a will. She wants to lay out what she wants to happen to her if she can’t make her own medical decisions. She wants to make sure her nieces are taken care of if Auntie Nat cant be there to protect them. You are the one that takes her to the Jag Officer and helps her walk through it all. On dress blue days, you straighten her ribbons on her uniform and brush her hair before pulling it up into a regulation bun so she can focus on other things clouding her mind.

Fanboy is the one that just comes out and asks it one day as you sit in the ready room. Barely above a whisper, “Harbor, would you let me sit between your legs and you’d scratch my head like my mom used to?” You smile and grab his hand to settle him on the floor in front of the couch. He almost whimpers as your fingernails lightly scratch along his skull. He anchors himself by planting his hands on your feet. He dazed, but at peace, when he hears Mav call his name across the radio.

Payback wants companionship. You do laundry with him- not for him. You make lunch with him- not for him. A wingman keeps him stable, keeps him moving, and you will do anything he needs, no matter how seemingly common place or boring. Sometimes, when he has run out of chores, he comes and does yours alongside you. Hence the beautiful backyard entertaining space you have- two people happy to laugh together can get a lot done.

It starts with Coyote’s trip to medical. But what he leaves out when he tells Hangman about it is that you held his hand, letting him cringe as they stuck him over and over again. Jake Seresin has no business in knowing that he does not like needles. You go with him to every appointment, including his terrifying hearing appointment, and kiss his forehead for being brave. He takes you to lunch after every one, always off post, so he can talk about whatever is on his heart.

Bob is the first one to fall asleep on you. He is gentle and free with his affection, but the Navy offers little expression of that so he takes full advantage of your soft arms and welcoming spirit. He falls asleep on your shoulder, tucks his head in your lap when they are forced to fly Space A somewhere, and crumbles to his knees when you run your hands through his damp hair when he steps out of his jet.

Everyone leaned on you- except Hangman. He keeps his distance. He makes sure his hand never brushes yours even when handing you a file, as if any contact will burn him to the ground. Never sits close enough to accidentally lean his head against yours. You don’t push. Cockiness and vulnerability rarely go hand in hand. His snarky comments about weak people needing hugs and company roll off your back like a duck in water. Others on the squad aren’t as easily unbothered, and one particular comment led to Payback’s class ring leaving a blooming bruise under Hangman’s eye.

To no ones surprise, you were the first to get him ice.

A hesitant knock jars your attention from the book in your blanket covered lap. For a second, you don’t bother to move. Three am is the hour of odd noises and no reason to unwrap yourself from the coziest chair in the chilly house. A second knock has you rising with the blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. In hindsight, wearing one of Natasha’s old pt t-shirt and shorts was not the wisest idea during the winter in your drafty cottage but its not like she or Bob or Rooster or whoever is at your door will care- they all will share a blanket in a heartbeat.

The doorknob turns and your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on Jake.

Not Hangman. Not Lt Seresin. Just Jake.

He looks small standing before you, with his hands in his pockets, his eyes rimmed red, and shoulders hunched as if he will be scolded for being here. His pupils trail up to meet yours, his lip quivering. Your heart breaks into pieces watching a scene you never thought you’d see.

There is no pride, no cockiness, not a hint of a smirk. Not even one comment about the blanket around your shoulders or the fact that you are awake at this hour.

“I-I’m, I-know,” his voice cracks. He rubs his hand over his face and cards through his hair as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. Taking a deep breath to pull his voice together as best he can manage, he continues, “I know I am an asshole. I know I shouldn’t be here but-“ his voice breaks as he looks down at his boots, “I-I just needed to be held, and you do it for them.” His eyes meet yours again as a tear runs down his cheek, “I thought maybe you’d do it for me?”

You are stunned to see him. Here. Like this. Asking for such forbidden things, well, things he has classified in his own mind as forbidden. In the beginning, you believed he was scared of seeming weak and that was what kept him from ever asking for any help. But as time moved on and he grew colder and colder towards you despite the squad becoming more welcoming and loving, your perception shifted. He must have just loathed you in particular.You had tried to be as kind and open as possible, tried to give him space but tell him he was valued just the same even if he didn’t want any fan fare around it. If anyone else had been in your job, he would have reached out, but it was you that was stopping him.

You hesitated too long. The smallest ounce of hope that was resting on his chest had been reduced to nothing more than a pile of dust at his feet. New tears are forming as he takes a step back and alarm bells are going off in your brain that you are missing a moment with him.

“I-I’m sorry. I sh-shouldn’t have come here. Good-“ before he could finish his sentence, your hand wraps gently around his wrist. The sensation of soft skin against his own cuts his words off as he focuses on the warmth spread across his arm.

“Jake,” you whisper, eyes softening as he meets your gaze, “I am glad you’re here.” With a gentle tug, he follows you into the darkness of your living room, illuminated only by the small lamp and candle by your reading chair. His eye wander across the walls and to his surprise, he sees a photo of just him framed next to pictures of everyone else in the squad. He had never given you an honest smile, yet he was on your wall.

His world collapses as he feels your arms reach up and wrap around his neck, fingers toying with the base of his hair. He instantly melts into your arms, the blanket that covered you dropping to the ground and his tears soaking through your shirt. He is crashing into you like a wave, like a rogue jet. It’s all sorrow and pain pouring out as he sobs into you. Your feet move to balance his body weight on your frame.

Time passes in a blink. Neither of you is sure of how long you stand there before you speak, “Come on, honey. Let’s go be a bit more comfortable.” He is pulled gently down the hallway until he is ushered in to a bedroom.

“No no no, thats not what I came here for, I swear,” he is trying to convince you through a tear clouded voice. Standing before you was the most honest he has been with someone, the most vulnerable, in a very long time and he’d be damned if he messed it up now.

“Relax, Jake. It’s okay,” you coo as you gently remove his jacket and push him lightly to sit on the bed. You unlaces his boots, his eyes staying trained on your movements. The blankets are pulled back, the empty side of the bed patted to urge him to join you. He is hesitant, eyes flickering, an internal debate raging. “You asked to be held. It’s the first thing you have asked from me in over a year. Please. Just let me hold you, Jake.” you whisper.

He folds. Of course he does. His physical body was entranced by the feeling of a hug that wasn’t from a battle buddy or laced with expectation. His body crashes into your arms, head tucked on your chest and legs gently intertwining with yours as you pull the covers up around his shoulder. Your fingers dance along his spine and run through his hair, his breathing slowing against your heartbeat.

“Is this the part where I have to tell you why I am crying?” his voice muffles against your shirt.

“Not if you don’t want to, sweet boy” comes the reply, punctuated by a kiss to the forehead and his heart rate evens out. Outside of these walls, he is Hangman- the only naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air to air kill, cocky ladies man with a killer smile. But here? In your arms? He is just Jake. He is loved.

He wants to never have to hear it from the squad about this but now that he knows how good this feels, he can never live without it again. As he drifts off to sleep, lulled by your steady breathing, he can’t believe he didn’t take advantage of his safe harbor earlier.

Thank you for reading! I am so glad you are here! Please reblog and comment- I live for these! Let me know how I can improve!

You are doing an amazing job, sweetheart!

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mymegrokosmos · 2 days ago

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Seventeen talking you through a panic attack.

Seungcheol - Notices right away that something is off the minute you shift away from his touch or make an excuse to step outside for a moment. Will follow behind, giving you a little space but with a concerned from furrowing his brows as he asks what you need or how he can help. WIll offer his jacket if it’s cold and just sit or stand with you, murmuring about nothing to help you calm down if talking you through coping techniques isn’t what you need from him in that moment. If it is, he’s there calmly talking you down and only a step away if you need a hand to hold or his arms around you (for grounding purposes of course, not to reassure him). Demonstrates your breathing techniques and offers you something solid and steady (himself ofc) to lean on as the shaking passes once the anxiety fades and the adrenaline you’ve built up floods your system.

Jeonghan - Doesn’t say anything but notices the way you’re slowly inching away from him. Will be sneaky about it, positioning himself to buffer you from whoever else is around and making himself the centre of attention to pull any focus away from you. Keeps an eye on you and will quirk an eyebrow or tilt his head to ask how you’re doing. Will tease you about how much you need him and how you can’t live without him later if you take the hand he holds out in support, mostly to keep you from going into shock as the adrenaline wears off and not because he’s a little bitch. Nope. Definitely couldn’t be that. All jokes aside will body check anyone to get to you if you’re not in his line of sight when it happens, you are his priority and if it means an excuse to do a little violence or get a little even with one of his members he is so game. Tucks you in and insists you get lots of rest after, using the excuse of you being extra clingy to steal as many cuddles as you’ll let him.

Joshua - Is a little oblivious at first but the minute you tug at his sleeve or make panicked eyes at him he’s pulling you away to get some fresh air and checking that you’re okay. Will ask you a thousand times what you need, how he can help, if he can get you anything. He’s just a worrywart who hates seeing you not feeling good, especially when he can’t just fix it with some home baked cookies or a big hug. Will insist on doing everything for like the next 48hrs because you are getting babied pls make the most of it. Definitely runs a hot bath once you’ve calmed down and talks you into sharing a long soak with you. Not so he can hold you because he’s the one needing calm now, but because it’s good for you or something. Makes you tea and insists on doing your skincare for you, he just wants to be helpful and needs to keep moving so he can stop overthinking that you’re really okay afterward. Please give the man some kisses and take him up on that bear hug or cuddles and a cute movie.

Jun - Somehow this man always seems like he would be good in a crisis. He might be panicking on the inside but outwardly he’s very calm and stoic. Will absolutely be your rock. Soft voice, slow movements, tone gentle he will treat you like a spooked cat. Knows just how to help soothe you. Will sit with you on the floor and ramble to you so his voice becomes the only background noise you can focus on. Will wrap you in blankets if you’re cold or hold you on his lap if you need physical touch, whatever it is you so much as hint at it and he is on it immediately. The way he knows what you mean when you’re struggling to articulate yourself should be studied. Is very aware of how big he can seem and will do his best to make himself as small and unintimidating as possible no matter how silly it might look to others around you. Is definitely putting his coziest sweater on you and cooking something warm to help you feel better once the adrenaline crash has settled a little.

Woozi - Convinced this man carries snacks wherever he goes just for such occasions. He knows the crash can take a lot out of you and he is always prepared to help you ride out the aftermath with one of his hoodies, a blanket, a hot drink and something sugary. The type to sit in silence with you so you know you’re not alone and let you make the first move. Will let you be the one to reach for him if you need to but stays close enough that you don’t have to stretch to do it. He’s sitting so close you can feel the warmth of his body but if it’s too much he won’t be offended when you move away or step outside for some fresh air. He’s listening, watching and waiting to your cues attentively. Already ordering your favourite warm meal as he notices you starting to calm down, knowing you’re going to be cold, tired and shaking. Yes this time you can use his bicep or chest as a pillow and he won’t even whine about it. Probably keeps pillows in his studio and brings electrolytes everywhere he goes just in case. He’s prepared to make this the least uncomfortable experience it can be for you.

Hoshi - startled at first. Surprisingly good at talking you through it or talking you down, whichever you need that day. Will hold your hands in his and rub them for warmth as he chats to you. He can ramble for hours if it helps, the chatter taking your mind off of spiraling. Happy to sit with you for however long it takes, bringing you blankets or something to cuddle or herding Latte over to give you some love periodically. Doesn’t ask questions until later. Would like feedback on how he can better help you or what he did well and what he didn’t after. Please help him help you, he just wants to make it a less awful time however he can. Clinging to you once you come down, insisting his body heat will keep you nice and warm while he lets you order whatever you want to eat as long as you share with him or get him something too. King of the distraction technique. And his optimistic happy personality has you smiling again in no time because emotional support Hoshi is so very real he’s just a real life squish. It’s impossible not to find joy in his presence, especially when he’s so focused on making you smile.

Wonwoo - Another one who is happy to sit in silence with you if that’s what you need. Will stay close or make sure he’s making noise while he does things so you know he’s around. Holds out a hand to you first, letting you decide if touch is good or bad right now. Depending what you need will either hold you close, your head tucked under his chin while he rubs your back so you can match your breathing to his steady heartbeat or just curl up beside you watching something quietly or reading. Will hum softly under his breath and get you some water, helping you hold the cup when your hands shake. Will ask if you need anything or if there’s something he can do or get you. Brings you snacks and cuts them up into small pieces for you. Very patient and steady. The type who knows his calm will help so he stays steady until you’re able to breathe through it and come back down again. Has pre-prepared goodies stashed away specially made by Mingyu to help get your sugar levels back up afterward but you have to eat something healthy first because balance is important after all.

Mingyu - Now, he knows it doesn’t help but he can’t not panic. Eyes wide, frantic pacing, mumbling to himself as he talks through what steps he’s supposed to take. You have a list on the fridge for just these kinds of situations. He’s practiced. He’s got this. Will figure it out after a few minutes. The best kind of person to have around if it’s a physical touch craving kind of panic attack, he will wrap you in the warmest tightest bear hug that holds you together so well you feel safe even in the midst of the worst of it. Buries his face in the crook of your neck, rubs your back, holds your hand and rubs his thumb over your skin. Will set you on the counter after in one of his oversized sweaters while he cooks you something to refill the energy you’ve lost and lay with you, playing with your hair until you fall asleep. Only then is he letting out a breath and actually relaxing. High alert sweet puppy boy who means well and stays close to be the emotional support however you may need him.

DK - Also one to panic right along with you at first before getting it together. You’ve talked him through this and he has a list on the fridge just in case he forgets his head. Very sweet. The type who sits with you and tells you stories, catching you up on his day and just talking to you so you don’t feel alone as you ride it out. He’s making you tea or hot cocoa, feeding you soup, wrapping you in soft blankets and putting on your favourite comfort show. WIll read your book to you if you’re shaking too much or just let you settle your head on his lap and sleep it off if that’s what you need. Hands in your hair, he’s very gentle and cautious not to set you off when touch is a bad sensation for you. Always checking in and asking how you’re doing. You’ve got a non-verbal system in place and he has them down pat. His quiet care and soft smile are very reassuring. You’re in good hands and he’ll cuddle you to sleep later and hold you through every nightmare. You’re a team and you know he’s got your back every time. Even when you can’t think straight enough to remember it.

Minghao - Another one who treats it calmly and matter of factly. He knows just what helps and what doesn’t. Keeps his pace slow, his voice soft, and his smile ready. His touch is always gentle but he’s there to reassure you with a head pat, a hand on your shoulder or a kiss on your temple. He’s right there and he isn’t leaving. If you need to sit for hours just holding his pinky he’ll be there. Happy to read or talk to you if the steady rhythm of his voice is calming, his presence alone is just soothing. He’s not noisy, he’s very quiet and slow and approaches you like a startled animal. Making sure you eat something, hydrate and get some rest once it passes. The type to pull you against his side or lay your head on his lap and tuck you in telling you to take a nap no matter what time it is. He’ll keep the bad dreams away while you recover. He even has snacks, water and your favourite things on standby to deploy as needed until you’re feeling better.

Seungkwan - Very much trying not to freak out and has to take a minute to get himself together first but he’s got this. One of the talking your ear off to distract you and himself types. Very much has every snack under the sun ready to spoil you with once you’re past the worst of it. Making you hot tea, worrying over you like your best friend’s mother. He's wrapping you in blankets until you’re too hot and making you laugh with the over the top care. You know it comes from a good place. He’s just trying to do everything he can think of. Makes sure you’re well hydrated. He’s happy to hold you and help you with your mug if you’re shaking too much. Puts on your favourite songs and sings along just for you. He’s going to need a minute once you’re sleeping to calm himself down but he’s going to be there right beside you through it. Holding your hand, braiding your hair back out of your face, even doing your nails or makeup if it will take your mind off of spiraling for a few minutes. Whatever you ask for at the moment, he’s doing.

Vernon - Definitely freaking out a little inside the first few times but remains calm on the outside. Once he gets into a routine and knows what to do, he’s very chill with it. Number one following the plan you outlined he’s talking himself through the steps in his head as he gets you through it like a champ. Keeps his voice soft, puts your hand on his chest so you can feel his steady heartbeat as he talks you through your breathing. He knows all your coping mechanisms and tools. Has them ready. Happy to sit there with you for however long it takes and is definitely ordering food, you trapped against his side with one arm thrown around you as he pulls up his favourite delivery app. Rambles to you happily about his latest special interest while you come down, head resting against yours after he’s wrapped you in one of his jumpers and tucked a blanket over both of your laps. He makes it feel very normal and easy. Couch naps for both of you while waiting for the food.

Dino - Another one who means well but is so utterly helpless at first. He is worried. He is panicking. He is not sure he is breathing. Oddly enough his freak out makes you feel like the calm one. It pulls you out of it sooner when you have to be the one to pull him into your lap and hold him, fingers threading through his hair as he whines and mumbles into your chest. He’s warm and his arms around you are grounding. The type that’s great for when you need touch, he’s always wanting to hold you and be attached. Clinging as long as you’ll let him. Talking your ear off about how the hyungs have annoyed him lately and what you should have for dinner and anything new he hasn’t had a chance to tell you yet. Nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and his soft breathing lulls you as he falls asleep. It’s easier to breathe when you’re watching his sweet innocent sleeping face. You’re safe here if he’s safe enough to fall asleep. Baby just loves you a lot and hates seeing you struggling.

#seventeen #svt #svt drabbles #boyfriend #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #drabble #panic attack #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines

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femmesport · 11 hours ago

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Almost Something - Chapter Four

an: this is the shortest chapter of all and i am so sorry! i am really not feeling any better and i don't want to let you guys down on getting another chapter out. my hope is to work through another chapter before tomorrow and get it up tomorrow. wc: 1.5k (i am so sorry)

Paige was frustrated. The kind of frustration that was searing underneath her bones and threatening to spill out. She felt it culminating. The worst part? She had no one to blame but herself.

She was convinced that her and Azzi could do normal. They would do normal. Unfortunately, her brain and heart are not communicating. Any time Azzi comes near her or touches her in purely platonic normal ways, her heart starts beating and her breath picks up.

So here she was, at the end of practice. The team had decided to go get ice cream together. They would ride in as few cars as possible, and shove as many bodies in as they could.

As usual, Paige would drive. Also following their usual routine, Azzi was back in the front seat of Paige’s car. Unfortunately for Paige, Azzi had also decided to lean in her direction, it made it easier for her to turn around and look in the back seat. Azzi also would randomly grab Paige’s phone out of her lap to queue another song before returning it to its spot.

Paige had gone mostly silent. Her hands gripped the wheel and her jaw ticked at her own frustration with herself. But, she remained silent.

Remaining silent would turn out to be a fatal mistake when Azzi reached over and put her hand on Paige’s shoulder softly. She leaned in with a lowered voice and Paige’s whole body tensed up.

“Hey, are you good?” Azzi asked with a voice so soft and kind that Paige couldn’t help but melt into the words.

She was unsure of how to respond though. Was she physically fine? Besides Azzi’s hand on her, yes. Was she mentally fine? No. Why? God, there wasn’t enough time to unpack all of that.

“Mhmm,” is what she offers out instead. Azzi frowns.

“P, we’re best friends, what is wrong? You can tell me anything,” Paige wanted to laugh and cry. How can she call them best friends and think Paige would be fine?

“Nah, I’m really okay,” Paige sighs, not sparing Azzi a glance, “I think I am just tired and…stressed out. Classes and stuff.” Paige explains.

“Classes… and stuff?” Azzi furrows her brows and her thumb begins soothing circles on Paige’s shoulder.

Paige’s grip tightens on the wheels and her jaw is clenched so tightly she is sure her teeth will crack at any moment.

“Yeah, just life, basketball, you know. The usual” Paige grits out and Azzi nods solemnly.

“I just wish you would talk to me,” Azzi begins in a voice so low Paige barely hears it, “I hate that you carry it all on your own.”

Paige just lets the words linger. She can’t really say everything she wants. She knows she is being unfair and even selfish, but she knew the second she opened her mouth, her most cherished friendship would be gone. If protecting that made her selfish, it was just something she had to live with.

“I think the ice cream place has a new flavor,” KK excitedly squeals from the back seat as the car goes mostly silent. Paige looks up in the rearview mirror meeting her eyes briefly. She nods in appreciation but lets the rest of the car erupt in conversation.

Paige kept her eyes on the road and her hands firmly on the steering wheel. She let the noise around her bleed into the internal battle she was raging with herself.

The ice cream shop had a mostly empty parking lot. There were three cars and two of them were pulling in full of student athletes with an insatiable appetite. The cars unloaded and everyone began filling into the tiny shop with voices clashing with each other.

The team began filing towards the register in small groups. Individuals ordering mixtures of flavors that Paige could only imagine to be frustrating to the overworked and underpaid teenagers behind the counter.

When it was her turn she stepped up towards the counter but felt a smaller hand wrap around her elbow. The hand turned her around so that she was facing Azzi.

“Hey, I forgot my wallet. Is there any way you could cover me and I could pay you back or get you another time?” Her eyes were soft and her cheeks red with mild embarrassment.

Azzi always hated relying on other people. She felt bad taking from others and in this moment, Paige could read that thought weighing across her face.

“Uh, yeah, of course. You can order first” Paige smiles in return tucking her hands into her pockets.

Azzi smiled up at Paige with a look that had Paige feeling way too mushy for the middle of an ice cream shop.

“Thank you, P. I owe you” Azzi is grinning before stepping forward.

She places her order while Paige stands back and watches Azzi’s excitement melt into a natural conversation with the cashier about ice cream toppings. Azzi had the ability to befriend anyone and talk to anyone in a way that would make them feel special.

Paige simply observed with what she was sure was the most love sick grin on her face. Eventually Azzi turned around to Paige waiting for her to order. Paige’s eyes never left Azzi. Not while she ordered.

The two stepped to the side to wait for their order and for a moment it felt normal. It felt like an evening that would lead to them being cuddled up on a couch talking about anything and everything. It was enough to make Paige pause.

It only lasted a few moments until Azzi’s phone was buzzing. Based on the smile that adorned her features after looking, Paige could guess who was on the other end.

At that the normalcy of it all faded and Paige took a physical step back. She hoped Azzi wouldn’t notice the distance, but she needed to give herself space.

While Azzi was busying herself with the phone, Paige stepped over to where Amari, Aubrey, and Caroline were standing and laughing.

“P, did you see this video?” Amari is turning her phone around and sharing whatever the group had been laughing at.

Paige appreciated that no one said anything about the distance she was putting between Azzi. She fell into conversation with her group. She was settled by their lack of acknowledgement and the normal she could get.

“Paige,” she hears the call that her ice cream is ready. She walks up and grabs hers and Azzi’s.

She handed Azzi’s off and continued walking back to the group. Paige really didn’t want to avoid Azzi, but she struggled to be around Azzi if she was just going to smile dopily at her phone while some guy texted her.

“Hey, P,” Azzi called out and Paige turned around seeing a frown on Azzi’s face.

As much as she needed the space, she couldn’t handle seeing Azzi upset. She looked back at her friends with a sheepish smile before letting them know Azzi needed her.

Paige walked over to Azzi who had settled in a booth. She had planned on sitting across from her until Azzi patted the seat beside herself.

“Okay, I know this is me being dramatic,” Azzi starts before wrapping her arms around Paige and leaning her head on Paige’s shoulder. Paige once again feels her body tense at Azzi’s touch.

“My professor just emailed me and was tearing my project to shreds. He was saying it lacked professional application. Then he was insinuating that all I was good for was basketball,” Azzi was trying to play it off as her being dramatic, but Paige saw the flush on her cheeks and embarrassment lining her features.

“Are you serious? Which one?” Paige shifts to better face Azzi who was trying to hide herself in Paige’s side.

“Dr. Johnson,” Azzi just sighs dramatically.

“Az,” Paige lowers her voice and Azzi is tilting her head so her eyes are on Paige–if Paige’s heart skips a beat, no one needs to know, “you should really report him. He is so unprofessional and disrespectful to you.”

“I know he has had bad experiences with student athletes, but I am trying so hard and he is just so dismissive,” Azzi deflects and Paige wraps one arm around Azzi’s shoulders.

“I know you don’t want him to get in trouble, but think of all that could be affected if you don’t pass this class,” Paige tries to reason.

Azzi just stares up at Paige, blinking but silent.

“You gotta advocate for yourself,” Paige finishes off voice so quiet it was clear it was reserved for just Azzi.

Azzi smiles up at her, “thank you.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for always being there for me and looking out for me,” Azzi whispers out in a voice so low Paige wasn’t entirely sure she heard it.

“Of course, that is what best friends are for,” Paige voices, using the same words that sent her spiraling earlier.

“No, it’s what you’re for. No one takes care of me like you do,” and Azzi is leaning her head back down and returning to her ice cream.

Paige sat frozen at the words. How can she say those words and then still go back to Tyler?

Please repost, like, and leave your feedback! Thank you!!! <33 -- tea ★’*•.¸♡

#pazzi fic #paige bueckers fic #azzi fudd fic #uconn wbb fic #pazzi fics #tea writing femme fics #paige x azzi #wcbb fic #paige bueckers angst #pazzi angst #azzi fudd angst

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thewitchblue · 14 hours ago

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"And you're okay never touching each other? Ever?"

Dick asked. He couldn't quite understand. He doubts he could thrive in a relationship without at least casual touching. Tim had brought home his fiancée for the first time, and they found out immediately the abnormalities.

You had a strong touch repulsion. You disliked every type of touch. Hugs, handshakes, casually touches, cuddling. Nothing. You cringed away from the brush of a hand.

"We're working on it."

Tim had said simply. He let you come to him. If you ever want to touch him, you do so. He didn't want or need to get into specifics. It's your story to tell should you ever want to tell it.

Jason shrugged. He understood the feeling the best. He doesn't like being touched either, but he grits his teeth and bears it. Dick never takes into consideration that Jason dislikes his affectionate brotherly hugs. It felt suffocating, and he struggled to suppress his fight or flight reaction, often merely shoving him away aggressively and leaving as quickly as he could.

Tim offered his hand to you, which you accepted with slight hesitation. You admitted,

"It's worse with people I barely know. Strangers are the worst."

Tim knows. He's seen you cringe away from touches. He was the one to suggest exposure therapy with him after you both started dating. He made sure to tell you that you aren't broken and that he would have been fine if you said no, but he wanted to help you. He wanted you to feel better.

You lightly squeezed his hand before pulling away. You murmured your gratitude to him when he released your hand, but he smiled at you as if telling you that there is no need for your thanks.

Tim is the best partner you've ever had. He doesn't mind the lack of physical affection in the slightest. He knows you love him in the little things you do for him.

You know the exact drink to give him based on his emotions, you know his favourite songs and his favourite era of music to play when he needs a distraction, you know he hates puzzle games and he especially hates everything relating to horror (he sees enough of it at night), you know he fidgets when he's working on cases so you got him a fidget ring to replace his clicking pen after he complained he struggled to focus with the pen clicking. He'd argue that you study him as much as he studies you.

He's comfortable in your relationship with him and trusts you fully. You have given him no reason to distrust you, and you would never intentionally hurt him. You love him deeply, and he's content with that knowledge alone. He doesn't need to cuddle you to know how you both feel about each other.

He's so respectful with his touches when you do ask to be touched. He may not fully understand your personal experience, but he did his research, and he can understand why you do what you do. He knows the neuroscience and psychology behind the condition, and he knows your life story. That is all he needs to know. Even if you never fully get over your touch repulsion, he wants to keep you in his life. Forever ideally.

He knew it was inevitable the family found out about you. He kept you to himself for three full years before they started pestering him to start dating instead of staying holed up in the Batcave. They had no idea about you and they had to see actual pictures of the two together for them and his engagement ring to believe you existed and that you weren't a cover story to get them to back off.

Immediately after the secret was out, you were the background to all his electronics. The others were quite surprised by the immediate response. It showed them that you meant the world to him despite hiding you for so long. It unnerved them slightly, however. What else is Tim hiding? They would never know. He was going to get married, and none of them even knew you existed. How long was he going to keep you to himself?

"How long have you known each other?"

You laughed slightly as you looked at Tim. He gave you a sheepish smile. You couldn't believe he managed to keep you a secret for as long as he did. You asked him playfully,

"How have you kept me a secret for three years?"

Tim shrugged with another sheepish smile. He didn't even have to try, really. The family of detectives had assumed he was too stuck in his mind to consider dating. He said,

"They never asked where I was. It's not my fault they made assumptions."

Dick couldn't believe his ears. The audacity. Dick was the first to know about his bisexuality, but the line is at his actual love life? Jason and Damian scoffed. They shouldn't have to ask to know about any long-term relationship. Jason said,

"We know your relationship skills are questionable at best, but it's not normal to keep your relationship in the shadows."

Tim's hand twitched slightly at your side. He's willing to fight Jason over this. You brushed your hand against his to soothe his raising anger. Tim took a deep breath but let it go. He knows every single secret Jason has tried to hide from the others, and he can absolutely destroy his life with mere words. You softly murmured,

"There's no need to fight."

Tim nodded as he slowly relaxed once more. He agreed. There is no need to fight. It's unfortunate Jason wants a fight, but he can restrain himself. You said,

"We didn't feel the need to broadcast our relationship."

Tim, admittedly, did hide you after you said you don't want to flaunt your relationship. He didn't want you to be uncomfortable, and his family is very uncomfortable for you, especially. Nobody is respectful of personal space in general. Tim expects to be ambushed by his brothers at any point in time. He couldn't subject you to that when you cringe away from gentle touches.

You watched the brothers carefully. You were glad that they accepted and seemed to be respecting your touch repulsion. The others can see Tim loves you deeply. Welcome to the family. Once you're in, you aren't leaving, so enjoy your happily ever after with Tim.

You did slowly learn to accept touch thanks to Tim. He was your dearly beloved husband. He was your first cuddle partner and your first kiss. He was the one you woke up entangled with and the one you kissed before every mission and after every fight.

You freely held his hands in public, and you learned to tolerate the family and friends' casual touching and displays of affection. It was still impossible for you to allow strangers to touch you without a fight or flight response kicking in, but you made huge progress through the many years of marriage. He was incredibly proud of you and showed you off the way you deserve.

Sure, you married young, but you held a love that will never die out. Tim had seen you at your worst, and he loves every piece of you. You were irreplaceable in his heart and as precious as your wedding ring.

He still asks before touching you, but he accepts non-verbal demands now instead of needing verbal consent every time. The love will be there forever regardless of whether or not you were having a bad touching day.

#gn reader #tim drake x reader #platonic batfam #x reader

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olliepop718 · 3 days ago

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💬 Clingy Seonghwa:

• Constantly texting you: “What are you doing now, angel?”… “Okay but now what?”… even if you just answered 30 seconds ago.

• Wants to FaceTime even when you’re both doing your own thing — just being on call with you calms him.

• Needs physical touch all the time. You’re watching a show? He’s in your lap. You’re cooking? He’s hugging you from behind with his chin on your shoulder.

• Whines when you have to leave. “Just five more minutes… or an hour… or forever.”

• Will randomly grab your hand, your face, or just drape himself over you like a weighted blanket.

• Lowkey pouts if you don’t cuddle him first — even gets jealous of the blanket for “stealing” your attention.

⸻

🛡️ Possessive & Protective Seonghwa:

• Hates when other people make you uncomfortable — he will absolutely step in with a cold glare and a firm arm around your waist.

• If anyone flirts with you? That calm, soft Hwa disappears real fast. He’ll say, “She’s mine. Back off.” in a voice that could slice through steel.

• Keeps one hand on you in public, always — whether it’s your waist, your hand, or your thigh. A subtle but clear: “She’s taken.”

• Gets super serious if you mention someone bothering you. No matter how small, he’s like, “Tell me who. I’ll take care of it.”

• Will stalk your socials just to make sure no one’s commenting something weird. And if they do? Blocked. No discussion.

• If you’re sad or sick, he becomes hyperfocused on fixing it. Blankets, tea, forehead kisses, and death stares at anyone who made you feel that way.

⸻

🖤 Bonus Vibes:

• You tease him for being so clingy, but he just says, “Of course I am. You’re my entire world.”

• Gets genuinely mad if you forget to tell him you got home safe. Expect aggressively worried texts like: “You better not make me panic like that again.”

• But then he softens immediately when he sees you, like: “I just… I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.”

• You belong to him — and he makes sure everyone knows it. But you also never forget how deeply he adores you.

• He’s not just clingy or possessive. He’s devoted. And he’ll love you like his life depends on it — because to him, it kind of does.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #san ateez #ateez imagines #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez smut #ateez rpf

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ritogysunshine · 2 days ago

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my thoughts on the f1 movie!

(⚠️CONTAINS SPOILERS⚠️)

watched it with @sleepdeprivedline hahsajsh ily bae

i'll go through what i think is important and the.. um... interesting parts :)

part 1: the plot

. the plot overall is... okay.. but unrealistic. more on that later.

. it's about an f1 team (expensify apex gp f1 team) who haven't scored points for the past 2.5 years and they will get 'removed' off the grid if they don't score points by the end of the year

. the movie starts of with sonny hayes (brad pitt) who takes part in daytona and brings his team from 7th to victory

. he then gets invited to drive for the shitty f1 team by its team principal and agrees

. he and his teammate (joshua pearce) have intense fights but eventually he wins a race with the team in the last race of the season (predictably)

. the movie ends with him joining the baja 1000

. i genuinely don't know what to think of this plot... its quite predictable and i already knew what would happen at the end the moment the main plot was established

part 2: characters (the important ones)

. sonny hayes played by brad pitt: a cocky character who is a 'trust the process' type of guy. wasn't a big fan of his character, or the actor. he was kind of funny though

. joshua pearce played by damson idris: again, a cocky character who wants to do his best for the team or else he'll get replaced by someone else

. kerry condon played by kate mckenna: works in aerodynamics for apex gp f1 team and erm.. falls in love with sonny hayes?? the love plot in this movie is so rushed, also more on that later.

. ruben cervantes played by javier bardem: a failing team principal who asks sonny to drive for his team (apex gp). he's alright i guess. isn't as relevant as other characters

. and of course, the drivers, played by themselves: 10/10 acting, loved it, awesome, spiffing, gripping, best part of the film

part 3: the bits and bobs i liked:

. the adrenaline in this movie is incredible. even though i knew most of the time what was going to happen, i felt gripped and looking forward to seeing what happens anyway!

. the music is great too. just a shame they had to play messy by ROSÉ while sonny and kerry were making out. just keep watching is the perfect song for this kind of movie!

. the drivers. i loved seeing them in the movie and it was a great touch. i wish they'd included them a bit more!

. there are some genuinely really good things about this movie, but i won't spoil any more of it!

. it overall has a great meaning and allows you to enjoy the adrenaline of f1 while learning important lessons, such as patience and resilience!

part 4: the bits and bobs i didn't like:

. the plot is so unrealistic. it became hilarious after a while, actually. some of the strategies (that i won't spoil) are so awfully unrealistic that it made me question what i really knew about this sport

. the CRINGE. the whole 'plan c for chaos' shebang was so cringeworthy i was squirming in my seat whenever they spoke about it. i get that they wanted to show determination, but that was not the way to show it. next!

. the joshua pearce crash. let's just say he touches a kerb in the rain at monza and he flies at a height that is so high it probably went higher then my house. see what i mean by unrealistic? and the worse thing is that pearce only gets burnt in his hands and recovers in 3 weeks. other than that, not a scratch. this was jaw-clenchingly hand-grippingly confusing and funny, even.

. the love plot. oh my god this was so rushed it was like watching the worst romance show ever, on 10x speed. it goes from them being g awkward friends to making out and sleeping together and then making out, with no context or warning or anything. it felt... uncomfortable.

. when sonny is testing for the f1 team, he crashes the car across the line and completely destroys it but is 0.005 seconds quicker than pearce. this made me physically roll my eyes.

. there is probably more that i could say, but i don't want to spoil the entire movie for y'all.

overall...?

. this movie is a 6 or 7 out of 10. just because something is bad, doesn't mean i don't like it. but there is so much in this love that was unnecessary and so much that they could've done.

. if you really want to watch it, then depending on you're taste, you can see if you like it or not. i think it's an okay movie, with good or cringe scenes every now and then, but what movie doesn't have any of that now, in the big '25?

. don't feel bad for going to watch it, just enjoy the movie and the sport you love!

rit xx

remember, this is just an opinion <3

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hansungie01 · 5 hours ago

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Felix Drabble

Contains: SoftDom!Felix x Fem!Reader, unprotected sex, praising, unestablished relationship (Felix and reader are best friends)

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Just a quick drabble, also the first fic I've written about Felix. Enjoy!

-----------------------------------

You had originally invited Felix over for a movie marathon night at your place. It had been a long time since you'd seen each other, with work and ordinary life often getting in the way. Luckily, you had managed to find time where both of you were free, so of course you made plans to have him spend the night so you and him would have plenty of time to catch up.

You two spent a majority of the night chatting through most of the movies you put on, discussing your daily lives - your unpleasant coworkers, recent dating experiences, and eventually turning to your sex lives. Even that conversation seemed casual at first, neither too explicit nor too awkward.

But when your best friend found out that you had never experienced pleasure beyond your own hands, he had made it his mission to rectify that. You couldn’t even remember when the conversation had turned sexual, or why the conversation had flipped in the first place. But with the flip of a switch, Felix was suddenly determined to be your first, to be the one to show exactly what real pleasure was.

“I can teach you,” he had said nonchalantly, despite his heart racing at the prospect of corrupting you, of being the first to make you feel good, seeing you come undone on top of him. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it before, late at night in the comfort of his own bed. You couldn’t deny that you had also thought about it before, what it would be like to be touched by him and how he would feel inside of you. So, after little deliberation, you agreed.

And that's how you ended up in this scenario, laying on his couch with half your clothing discarded and the movies still playing in the background while you rode him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s it, you’re doing so good”

Felix spoke with a soft voice, almost dropping to a whisper. His hands were positioned delicately at your sides, fitting right in the space between your thighs and your hips. Your hands were placed on his chest, gripping onto his hoodie for balance.

The couch you'd both been lying on was cramped, with only enough room for the two of you when Felix sat upright with his head and shoulders resting on the arm rest and his legs bent. It was tight, but you didn't protest, as it provided you an excuse to cling to his clothing while you adjusted to his size. Even though you had nothing to compare him to, Felix still felt big, and it had taken you a while for the feeling to turn from bearable pain into pleasure.

Now, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Sure, you had touched yourself many times, in the privacy of your own room where no one could hear you. But the real thing? You couldn’t even find the words to describe it unless those words were incoherent groans. Even the slightest of movements caused you throat to let out sounds that you couldn’t control.

Felix moved your hips forward once he felt your body relaxing, guiding them against his own. You gasped, the friction causing your walls to clench around him repeatedly. It took everything in him not to fuck you harder, to wrap his arms around your waist and thrust himself into you while you whined into the crook of his neck, begging him for more. But he knew this was your first time, and so he pushed that thought into the back of his mind for the time being.

“You’re okay, baby, you’re doing great”, he reassured you as he rubbed your hips in his palms. “Think you can start moving on your own now?”

He spoke with such gentleness that you could feel your heart physically melting at his tone. You nodded, closing your eyes as you began moving your hips back and forth, this time at your own pace.

“Like that?”, you asked him, your eyes still closed shut and your hands still gripping onto his hoodie.

“Yeah baby, just like that”, he nodded as he bit his lip, taking his hands off of your hips to watch them as they rolled against his cock. “Back and forth. There you go, taking me so well”

His words were only encouraging you more, and soon, you were moving completely on your own.

“Feels a little bit different than your fingers, huh?”, he teased, recalling the moment when you told him that the only pleasure you had ever felt came from your own fingers.

You opened your eyes to look down at him, taking in the sight of your best friend below you. His eyes were dazed, a slight smirk present on his face. Despite the baggy hoodie he was wearing, you could still see his chest rising and falling from beneath it. You had never truly expected to see him this way.

But of course, neither did he. Only in his dreams could he imagine being able to see his best friend on top of him like this, let alone being the first one to do so. He was your first, the first one to ruin you for anyone else to come. Before tonight, you had always been so innocent to him, always keeping your sex life private and blushing whenever someone brought up the topic. It was adorable to him, the way you turned away at the mention of sex, like you barely even knew what it was.

Of course, he knew you weren’t as innocent as you led others to believe, and deep down, he always wanted to be the one to pull all those dirty little thoughts from behind that innocent face of yours. It wasn’t until tonight where he finally got the chance to, and he was soaking in every single moment he could.

You groaned from on top of him. “Feels better”

“Better?”, he chuckled, repeating your words back to you.

You hummed in response, moving your hips quicker as the pleasure grew in intensity. “Yes, so good”

Before long, you felt a knot growing in your lower stomach, a feeling you had never managed to bring yourself to on your own. You knew you were close, that was the only thing this feeling could mean.

“Felix, I-“, you gasped, your hips stuttering just slightly as you clenched around him. “I think I’m gonna-“

“I know, baby”, he cooed as his breath caught in his throat, the thought of seeing you cum causing him to feel his own orgasm quickly approaching. He wanted to ruin you completely, feel your walls squeeze around him while you moaned out his name. His name, only his name.

He couldn’t take it anymore. His thoughts were running wild with the sight of you taking his cock inside of you, when only yesterday you’d blush if someone had even mentioned the topic altogether. His hips thrusted up into your core as his nails dug into your skin, now chasing his own high with the sounds of your loud moans ringing pleasantly in his ear. He opened his mouth to speak, giving you one last instruction before you finished.

“Say my name when you cum”, he asked, sounding more like a plead than a command. But the pleasure was getting to be too much for him, clouding his thoughts and preventing him from speaking in anything more than unsteady groans.

With one final strained moan of his name, you came around him. Your whole body shook on top of him as your hands scrambled to find something else to hang onto, eventually falling on his hands which had been gripping onto your hips.

Felix quickly lifted his hoodie up just before he pulled out, stroking his length as he came all over his stomach. The substance coated his abs, dripping down his hand and even falling on his thighs. The sight was so filthy to you - watching your best friend cum because of you, because of the way you felt around him. You would never say it out loud to him, but you had often fantasized about this very scenario yourself.

Felix’s breathing slowed down as his orgasm eventually passed, looking back up at you with a dazed look of admiration plastered on his face. He rubbed his clean hand along your side, not in a sexual manner, but more of a relaxed manner, like he was trying to calm you down. Your body was still shaking, not used to sensation of pleasure not self-inflicted.

“You’re so beautiful like this”, he mumbled. “And all because of me”

You blushed at his words. Even though you were only friends, you were sure this would become a reoccurring event for the both of you. Felix had ruined you, both mentally and physically, for any person yet to come.

But you weren’t complaining, especially when he had ability to pleasure you in ways you couldn’t have imagine prior to tonight. He had indeed ruined you, in the best way possible.

“All because of you”, you confirmed.

#felix smut #smut #kpop smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz drabbles #stray kids drabbles

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bluejayadler · 3 days ago

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DBDa Analysis - "Pulled" from trauma

Another long one.

Okay, okay, okay, analysis time! So one of the things I love about Dead Boy Detectives is that they regularly use details from every department to help tell the story. Costume changes to show character arcs and roles in the episode. Colors in lighting and scenery and clothing to emphasize a theme/idea. Etc. DBDa also has a lot of powerful themes that these different elements play into.

One theme is humanity and connection - specifically the power of people helping people. Not just in the "we're detectives who solve mysteries" helping. But friends and found family helping people through their trauma and their pain and their worst moments. We see this with Charles and Edwin reassuring Crystal at different times, Crystal trying to comfort Charles after he revealed his history of abuse. But what about physically? I want to look at the theme of "friends helping overcome/face trauma" not through the dialogue but the physical blocking and cinematography of the show. And not like hugs or comforting gestures. That's too easy.

Nah. We're gonna examine the blocking in scenes where a character is "pulled" or "not pulled" out of their trauma. I noticed it with Crystal initially, but there's a repeated blocking of someone "pulling" characters out of trauma moments. I am using "trauma moments" very specifically here. I'm not including the characters talking about their trauma, like Charles sharing with Crystal or his breakdown at the lighthouse. I think these are still good scenes, and there is an analysis there for how Charles responds to touch in moments of heightened emotion. But that's not what this is. I am looked at the blocking used in scenes where characters are reliving/re-experiencing their trauma physically. For this, we'll be looking at Crystal (3 scenes), Charles (2 scenes), and Edwin (1 scene).

Starting with Crystal, cause she's the origin for this entire idea. Crysstal is a survivor of an abusive relationship. Kassius talks about it in an interview - describing Crystal as someone who has escaped an abusive relationship and is dealing with the remnants of that. And she is! David was an abuser. Take away the whole "demon" thing and you have a partner that is extremely controlling, constantly tearing Crystal down, isolating her from her friends (Emma), forcing her to do what he wants, ignoring her wants and needs for his own interests. And even after getting away from him, she is still dealing with the fallout. David constantly invades her mind - the way the things an abuser makes you believe about yourself would still control so many of your thoughts, the way fear or anxiety about that abuser returning or finding you might control your actions, they way those thoughts and fears can stop you acting in the moment. Even David showing up dressed in Charles's clothing in Crystal's nightmare is reminscent of how its hard to enter new relationships for fear they'll be just like the one you escaped. The show explores this storyline through David's demonic abilities, specifically his ability to invade her mind, pull her into her mindscape, and disrupt her current actions. [Not deep diving into that though]. But what the show also does is show how the others help Crystal in these moments. Now, none of them help her get out of her mindscape, but each time she leaves her mindscape after David has pulled her in, she is physically being "pulled" or held by one of the others. [There is an ENTIRE arc of Crystal moving forward from victim to survivor in just her mindscape scenes alone!]

There are four times we see Crystal interact with David in her mindspace. We're gonna focus on the three where David initiates it. The three times he forces her there - forces her to return to the trauma of an abusive relationship:

1. Ep 1: Demon at the malt shop - Crystal is at an emotional point before David interfers. She's just been stared at for talking to herself, probably something that has happened before and would lead her to be very self-conscious, embarrassed, and/or anxious. She retreats to the bathroom, alone, and isolates - walking away from a potential support system. Its at this point when she walks back through the door that she steps into the mindscape, brought there not by her choice but David's. In her mind, Crystal stands up for herself "you can't get back inside me unless I let you. it's never happening" but its not fully confident. She's on the backfoot the whole time, David walking forward, Crystal stepping back again and again. Then David threatens her, eyes full black, and she startles in fear, falling back. The scene shifts to Charles pulling her back and up by her jacket. She "awakens" in Charles's grasp. We don't see Crystal re-enter the malt shop proper and we don't see her fall to justify Charles pulling her up. We come back to reality as Charles is pulling her up, hand on her jacket and then out to steady her. He isn't what brings her out of her mindscape, but he is physically there for her and the blocking shows him "pulling" her out in a manner.

2. Ep 3: David and the Misery Wraith - Crystal is faced with the Misery Wraith and told that it will make her relive all her worst memories, until she breaks. Edwin expressly tells Crystal she needs to have positive thoughts, but have you ever started thinking about your worst moment then tried to actively stop. To push it away. This is Crystal's point of vulnerability and what David uses to pull her back into her mind. David presents himself as a savior, a protector, but ONLY if she returns to him. In reality, he invades and controls her at a moments she needs to be positive, making her vulnerable, placing her in danger. Crystal is frozen in place by David just as Charles is frozen in place by the loop. As the misery wraith is about to grab her, Edwin grabs her and pulls her away and out of the secret room. She "awakens" in his arms. Again, we don't see her physically leave the secret room. Edwin does pull her away but she's still physically in danger. I think it's interesting that the scene cuts from Edwin pulling her away from the Misery Wraith to Crystal still talking to David in her mindscape THEN to her coming out of it still in Edwin's arm but in a more safe location (the bedroom). They could've cut this or blocked this so many ways, but they cut it so Crystal wakes up being pulled and held by Edwin. Another instance of her leaving the instance of her trauma (David in her mindscape) and being in physical, supportive, contact with a friend.

3. Ep 5: Post Meat Cute - Again, we find Crystal at a vulnerable point that David takes advantage of to invade. Crystal has left the boys and has actively been thrown back into her past - seeing how Shelby and Meran's lives were ruined by "boys who went too far" that same way her's was by David. She's tired and emotionally drained, then comes to her temporary home to find a murder scene. Crystal is sitting with Niko and Jenny but they leave. The moment they step away from her and leave her alone, David invades again. Crystal is fidgeting with fingers. Hand from behind on her shoulder, angled from above - David turns her and she's standing in the mindscape. Again, he "pulls" her into the space. David makes promises again then threats when Crystal remains defiant to him. Interestingly here, he does almost fully invade. He opens his mouth and the hand thing comes out again. Previously, Crystal stated David can't get inside her again without permission and David agreed, indicating that in this moment, Crystal might be at a breaking point, ready to give in. But she doesn't. She wakes up to Charles - his hands on her shoulders. I think its also important to note that his position here mirrors David's but is supportive rather than controlling. In the mindscape, David is grabbing Crystals shoulder's holding her in place while he tries to force himself inside her. Outside, Charles is holding her shoulders as if to shake her out of the vision or hold her steady. Again, she awakes in physical contact, being "pulled" (well, shaken) out of her trauma moment and then held. Charles shifts to sit next to her, offering physical support.

In each of these cases, Crystal is forced to live or re-experience her trauma. Each time, she stands up to David and makes the choice to keep moving. And each time, she is "pulled" out of these moments by a friend - Edwin or Charles. I think you can also add Niko here. As, in episode 4, Niko is the one that pulls Crystal off the cliff edge. Crystal isn't in her mindscape, but she is being controlled and it could be a moment of trauma - hearing the voice of a parent you can't be with, hearing them want you, especially for Crystal who is a neglected child. With or without that, the repeated blocking choice still stands.

And its added to with Edwin. Edwin's trauma is literal Hell. I mean, he has other trauma, but we'll focusing on Hell. Its a trauma that haunts him and impacts him day to day. His insistence on leaving immediately after a case to avoid the blue and red light, his desire to solve cases being in part to seek leniency. And, the same way Crystal gets pulled back into her trauma by David, Edwin gets literally dragged back to his. We're only gonna focus on one scene in Hell though:

1. Ep 7: The Baby Doll Spider Lair - Charles initially finds Edwin sitting and curled up by a window at the intersection of a hallway, but before they can fully reunite, Edwin is dragged away (again). At this point, Edwin has stopped running, but we don't know if he's stopped trying to escape. We had only just seen him talking with Simon and reaffirming to himself that he was going to escape, that he didn't belong there. But when Charles next finds Edwin, in the Spider's den, it's different. Edwin is FULLY in his trauma. Edwin is curled up mostly in the corner, facing AWAY from the door, from the exit, from freedom. Also, away from the chase, the hunt. Edwin appears mostly in shock - shaky uneven breaths, slight twitching, wide eyes staring at nothing. Charles approaches and Edwin hears his shoes. IMMEDIATE REACTION. He turns, stands, grabs Charles's wrist to pull him down, clamps other hand over Charles's mouth to keep him quiet. "You have to be very very quiet." Edwin explains, "I run, and it catches me. It tears me apart and gnaws on me. And it all starts again. Over and over. For decades. Over and over and over." When Charles tries to get him to leave, Edwin responds "The moment I run, it'll chase. I can't get away from it. I can't." and actually moves back from Charles, pushing himself away, then turns and returns to his initial position - back now to the door AND to Charles, curled up, holding his knees. Charles replies "Well I'm here," pulls out a LIT BOMB, and tries to bring Edwin back with something familiar, their usual case banter "Time for the old shill and dash play." Edwin reacts to the bomb by turning his head to look, eyes squinting against the light, but still doesn't move. Charles throws bomb at Spider. Charles grabs Edwin by upper arm, Edwin looks startled, glances at Spider than stares at Charles. Charles yanks him up by the arm and pushes him to run ahead.

Edwin and Charles both know that Edwin can get out, but in that moment, he hasn't. He isn't even trying. Now, maybe he will. I'm sure there were hundreds, thousands of times over his first 7 decades in Hell where Edwin gave up for just a moment, but he still kept going eventually. We know he kept going, so we easily can believe he will again. But this could also be the time that its too much. Edwin is IN his trauma, physically and mentally. It has all been laid out for Charles to see, visually and told to him by Edwin. Edwin is as deep in the trauma as you can get, worsened by the fact that its all happening again. He escaped but that wasn't enough. He's back and maybe he'll always end up back here. And that makes it worse, deepens that moment of Hell. But in that moment, the worst moment, Charles still pulls him out.

And I think its huge that its at THIS moment. Because, I originally titled this section "Pulled from Hell", but Charles doesn't pull Edwin out of literal Hell. At the stop of stairs, at the door, Edwin runs out himself, following Charles and with the knowledge Charles came back for him and will always come for him, but blocking wise, Edwin runs out of Hell without physical assistance. The moment the "pull" happens is here, in the lair, the deepest depths of Edwin's Hell. The deepest depth of his trauma. That is when Charles pulls him out. They could've saved that for the doorway, having Charles physically pull Edwin out of Hell, through the door, and back to earth. But they don't. Symbolically, Edwin gets himself out of Hell both times. He escapes Hell on his own, maintaining his "self" as he does, the first time. And the second time, he accepts the realization that he doesn't deserve Hell and he won't keep carrying it with him ("If you punish yourself, everywhere becomes Hell.") But his trauma, the worst moment, Charles pulls him out. Charles is there for him, so he can be there for himself. Edwin got out because of Charles, because Charles pulled him out of that deepest part.

And finally, themes are made all the stronger by showing not just cases where they appear but where they don't. Contrasts to highlight them, if you will. Which brings us to Charles.

Charles has a few scenes where his trauma is brought up. We won't be looking at the breakdown on the cliff in ep 4 where he rejects Edwin's touch or the "I don't want to be the bad guy" speech where he accepts Edwin's touch in ep 5. Those are huge moments for Charles and his arc, yes, but we're not focusing on his arc. We're focusing on friends "pulling" each other out of trauma as a symbol of support and the theme of connection.

Charles's trauma is the abuse he endured at his father's hands and his murder at his friend's hands. Twice we see Charles forced back into these trauma, reliving them in a way, the way Edwin is dragged into Hell and Crystal is repeatedly pulled back into her mindspace and back to David. However, where Edwin and Crystal both have points where the blocking has them "pulled" out of this trauma by someone else, Charles doesn't. Okay, well, he kinda does. And mostly doesn't. We'll focus on 2 scenes here:

1. Ep 3: Devlin House Loop is closed - Charles has been trapped in the Devlin House Loop by his own powerful emotional response to the loop. In the loop, he attempts to stop Brandon Devlin who blocks his cricket bat swing, hits him, and sends him sprawling to the ground. Charles is then frozen in place, unable to move or look away from the murders, until the loop resets. When the loop is ended, Edwin and Crystal come downstairs. As the two hit the bottom of the stairs, Brandon breaks from the loop and drops the axe. Then the mother and daughters break and hug each other. Edwin and Crystal exchange a couple lines of dialogue then run to Charles who hasn't moved. He's still sitting in the exact same position whereas everyone else in the loop moved immediately. He's breathing heavily and glances down then up, the camera shifts to show him looking at the mother and daughters. "They are free." Edwin's first words to Charles. Charles still doesn't move. "Death will come". Crystal and Edwin each grab one of Charles's arms and pull him up, helping him stand. Their grasp doesn't linger and Charles appeared to sway/step back slightly to stand on his own.

So yes, Edwin and Crystal do pull Charles up when he fails to get up on his own, but there's a difference here. Charles comes out of the loop alone - sitting on the floor while they're still on the steps. His loop, in this instance, is like Crystal's mindspace. Each time she came out of it, she was in the arms or grasp of one of her friends. Charles "comes to" alone, staring at the scene before him, unmoving. I think this works as a way of showing where he is in his arc. Crystal accepts support, even if she's sometimes mad at it or doesn't think they care. Even Edwin accepts support. Charles doesn't. And Charles is also the least open about his trauma and need for support. This blocking doesn't mean that Edwin and Crystal aren't willing to be there for Charles, but rather that they can't be. Yet. Charles is still alone in his trauma. At this point, all of them know about Edwin's past in Hell and Crystal's past with David. But they don't know the abuse Charles endured. He gave Crystal a hint, which fits with Crystal and Edwin stepping in to help him, but not fully being there for him to moment he comes out of the loop. They can't be until he lets them.

2. Ep 4: Charles stands up alone - Charles placed himself between Night Nurse and Edwin, cricket bat drawn Night Nurse uses her ability to force Charles to relieve his father's abuse and his friend's murdering him. In the forced flashback, Charles "falls" into the water. When the memories end, Charles in on the ground. He pushes himself up, Edwin still standing behind him, appearing afraid, and the girls off to the side. Its unclear how much time passes while Charles in reliving memories but no one has appeared to have moved towards him in that time (most likely no time has passed). Charles falls in his memory and the camera flip occurs, similar to Crystal, showing Charles face down on the ground, facing away from Night Nurse when he was previously facing her and had appeared to have fallen forward or collapsed straight. Either way, he stands up on his own.

Again, this scene mimics Crystal, David, and the mindspace. Charles relived what happened. He was aware in his memories. The Night Nurse pulled him back into his memories the way David pulls Crystal into her mind. He is forced to relive his trauma. And again, unlike with Crystal, he comes out of that trauma moment alone. No one at his side. No one "pulling" him from it. No one in contact with him.

Charles relives his own trauma and his own "hell" twice that we see, and both times, his scenes don't have the physical blocking of being "pulled" out of trauma that both Crystal and Edwin have. Not because he wouldn't receive that support, but because he won't let that support happen. Because, that would mean admitting his trauma. That would mean opening himself up and being vulnerable. That would mean letting them see all of him, that parts of him that he sees as "not enough". Charles isn't at the point Edwin and Crystal are. Crystal repeatedly stands up to David, calls out their history for what it is, and actively tries works to overcome the impact that relationship has left behind on her. Edwin is also actively coming to terms with trauma. He forgives Simon, allows himself to explore his sexuality and accept himself, and once more leaves Hell. But Charles isn't there yet. So while Charles can be there to physically pull Edwin and Crystal out of their own traumas, they can't be there in turn. Not yet.

The use of this blocking - the "pulling" someone out of their trauma - serves to both enhance the theme of humanity and connection while also highlighting where each character is in their arc related to their trauma, which ones are ready to face it and overcome it, or at least, stop letting it control them, and which ones are still in too deep, unable to face it.

#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #dead boy detective agency #dbda #save dead boy detectives #crystal palace #dbda analysis

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redrage71890 · 6 hours ago

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Saja Boys Characterisations/Headcanons

Okay I really need this answered right now.

How are the Saja Boys generally characterised?!

I know that they're kpop stereotypes, but considering how we are basically giving them characters with our headcanons, WHAT IS THE GENERAL PERSONALITIES ARE WE GIVING THEM.

I'm just gonna say my headcanons but I want to hear what other people are doing bc it'll help me form an opinion more.

Jinu

I'm including Jinu because I wanna add my headcanons for how he is with the boys. Which I see as him being the tired mother/leader. He’s the one trying to keep the peace to some extent in success.

He’s still insecure about him being a demon. Loves quality time and you can’t tell me otherwise.

Romance

I see Romance being a flirt (for obvious reasons) but also someone who can be a bit cynical and a little manipulative as he uses his charm on others. Playing into him being a demon of course. But also a person that vies for attention on him. His character when it’s just with the Saja Boys I see as him being more bratty but in a weird girly pop way. (I can't describe this right)

Relationship wise, he’s a bit clingy and loves words of affirmation as a love language (receiving and giving). The kind of guy that goes above and beyond when trying to impress someone.

Baby Saja

Someone like Baby I see as aloof and chill. Tending to worry about himself and his entertainment. I do like how people portray him as a sadist because its such a contrast to his appearance. So he's shit disturber and a chaotic neutral.

In say a relationship way, he's a bit nonchalant about everything but loves receiving attention by physical touch and quality time. Doing stuff like playing games and leaning on him.

Abby

I see him being quite the golden retriever but is very protective. A bit overwhelming and cocky about his appearance. His role in the group is like a big brother to also an enabler. He lets shit happen and Jinu’s gotta be the one to tell him otherwise. (Side note: I kinda like the shop between Jinu and Abby, my friend has sort of convinced me)

He likes doing acts of service.

Mystery

Love how people characterise him being a weird dog out of the boys. But I say he’s very observant and gives subtle hints to what he likes and doesn’t like. Can get a bit feral when pissed.

He loves physical touch like leaning his lead on thighs, shoulders, head and hands.

Just saying this is very impulsive but I genuinely want to know others thoughts on this topic. Please give me ideas as I try to write the Saja Boys.

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #saja boys #jinu kpdh #abby kpdh #romance kpdh #mystery kpdh #baby kpdh #kpop demon hunters headcanon #kpdh headcanons

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pintobug · 1 day ago

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maintenance

dbf! joel miller x female reader

chapter 6: have your cake and eat it too

rating: 18+ MDNI

masterlist

summary: joel pays a visit. reader has dinner with her dad. ellie finally comes home!

word count: 6.9k

tags: flirting, internal conflict, maintenance man!joel, dbf!joel, joel x female reader, very mild angst, age gap, reader is 23, joel is 46.

a/n: i wanna thank you guys for being so patient with me while i was sick. also- i’m sorry this chapter isnt as long at the recents. i still hope you guys enjoy.

Three solid rasps at the door rips your attention from all of the baking ingredients sprawled out on the counter.

“Coming!” You announce while skittering towards the door.

You open it quickly, beaming up to Joel on the other side.

“You’re a cheeky lil’ thing, you know that? Hung up on me ‘fore I could get a word in.” He’s got a lopsided smile plastered over his lips.

“That was the whole point.” You remind him and usher him in.

You bring him into the kitchen and gesture your arms at the spread.

“We got some work to do, cowboy.”

Joel raises an eyebrow, his smile still there until suddenly it's not.

“My god, look at you.” He takes a step closer, grabbing your gesturing hands and flipping them palm up.

You wince when he drags his thumb over the scrapes.

“They hurt when you touch ‘em.” You hiss, jerking them closer to your body, but still in his grasp.

“They look like they hurt.” He sucks his teeth and shakes his head. “Where else you scraped up, hm? This it?”

You shake your head. You feel like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“My knees. Well, knee- really. The one got the worst of it, the other one is fine.” You kick out one of your legs to display the scrape to him.

It’s red and angry but scabbed over. You weren’t sugarcoating it. They really weren’t bothering you unless they were being touched. Your hands were different, dull throbs in them from being used constantly. It was hard to avoid. But you’re more than willing to pay for your crime of getting too drunk and allowing yourself to interact with Owen.

“Christ.” He mutters and shakes his head.

He’s looking at you like he’s the one who just got scraped up, like he’s in physical pain. His big, brown, puppy dog eyes are boring into you.

“Alright, stop with the pity party.” You wave him off with a hand. “Need your help.”

You ignore the throb in your chest as his face softens, still laced with an ounce of concern. His shoulders relax while he exhales, eyes flickering between you and the counter.

“Okay, baby. Give me the low down.” His voice practically drips from his lips.

You're reminded of how it sounded over the phone last night. Slow, low and raspy. Southern twang was prominent when heavy with sleep. All of that made the filthy words he spoke that much better. The way he calls you baby, not even in a bedroom sense. But after you told him you didn’t like the way it sounded coming from another guy's mouth- he made sure to throw it in there.

You explain everything, tell him about the cake, fudge icing, and the black cocoa powder you use. You tell him that it gives a beautiful bitter taste that balances out when you cut it with half of a regular cocoa powder, but the color. The color takes it to a different level. It’s black and velvet. It’s beautiful.

“That's what makes Oreos so dark.” You tell him.

He gives you a kind of deadpan look.

“You got a lotta shit stored up here, huh?” He smiles down at you, tapping the top of your head

“A lot is an understatement. Filled with useless information is more accurate.” You cross your eyes, trying to look up at his hand.

He chuckles and removes it, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He looks soft and calm. His presence has a weight to it, a good one. Joel claps his hands together and rubs them. It sounds rough from all the years of labor, but they still touch and cradle you like you’re fragile.

“Like hearin’ what you got to say. C’mon now, show me what I’m ‘posed to be doin’.” He nudges you with his shoulder.

“Okay! Okay.” You laugh breathily.

You have the entire recipe memorized and you’re rattling off measurements and weights of the ingredients. Telling Joel if he’s going to crack the eggs to make sure to do it in a separate bowl, that there are no shells and to make sure that there are no yolks in the separated whites. He makes a face at you when you tell him this. One that has confusion and uncertainty plastered on it.

“Why don’t you do the eggs, darlin’?” He tells you, flashing a sweet smile but you can see the wary behind his eyes.

He does help you though. He greases the pan while you tell him about one of the first times you made this cake alone. You had made it in a decorative bundt pan for Christmas. You were really trying to step it up and show off your skills. It all fell on its head when you took the cake out of the oven, let it cool and tried to turn it over. Stuck. It wouldn’t come out of the pan. You tapped it, smacked it and finally started beating the side of your fist into it and it still didn’t budge. You tell Joel how you cried when presenting it to your parents and all they could do was hug you. You, your dad and your mom ate it right out of the cake pan later that night.

Joel's eyes crinkle when he smiles, the impression of two dimples under his thick beard. He’s got his hands in the pan, twisting and turning them with a butter wrapper to coat the bottom and sides. You try your hardest not to gawk at them working with something other than tools, something softer, something that feels personal to you. He chuckles between your words and his eyes rarely leave you, even if you’re not looking. You can feel them, studying the way you carefully separate the eggs, sprinkling salt in a container until it hits the exact number of grams you need. Your hands are skilled. In a different way then his.

Yours are scraped and bruised up right now but you’re still working meticulously, practiced and with ease. Joel admired this. His heart breaks a little every time he catches a glimpse of one of the angry scrapes. He wants to take over for you, baby you and make sure you don’t feel any pain while doing this. But he swallows the feeling down. He doesn’t want to overstep. You’re a capable little lady, he thinks. He really likes that about you. He didn’t realize he was staring until you said his name in that sweet voice you always do.

“Joel.” Your voice carries a sing-song tone.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to do the honors! Dump it all in the pan.” You smile up at him, gesturing the bowl and spatula to him.

He nods his head and gently takes them from you, tilting the bowl into the pan and scraping it clean with the spatula.

“Okay, now tap in gently on the counter a few times.”

Joel nods again and gently wraps his hands around the pan, tapping it against the counter top. He looks to you for approval and you nod your head.

“Make sure it sits on the middle rack in the oven.” You say softly.

You turn to open the oven door, warmth rushing out and fanning over your body. The gas clicks and kicks on in the oven. You turn to Joel and gesture towards the oven but he’s already bending down to slide the pan onto the rack.

“Perfect.”

“Y’think I did alright?” He chuckles, turning to the sink and washing his hands.

“I think you did great.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, leaning back against the counter and drying his hands off on a dish towel. You wash your hands and walk slowly, stopping in front of him. You take the dish towel from his hands and dry off your own, looking up to him. You pat your hands gently, making sure to not irritate your palms. Your bodies are close, your feet settled between his. You can feel his breath dust over the top of your head.

“C’mere.” He mumbles, wrapping his strong fingers around your wrist and pulling your torso into his.

You stumble forwards,head making contact with his chest. You laugh softly, wrapping your arms around his broad torso, tossing the dish towel somewhere on the counter behind him. His strong arms envelope your frame, wrapping over your shoulders in a bear hug and giving you a tight squeeze. You let out a strained groan at result of the squeezing, Joel lets up on your with a chuckle.

“The sink giving you any trouble?” He asks, smoothing his large palms down your back.

It sends chills from the soles of your feet to the top of your head.

“No, think the fella that fixed it knew what he was doing.” You tease, a cheesy smile fixing itself on your lips.

Joel mirrors the smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes and sigh. The warmth of his lips made your belly tumble, the soft fan of his exhale from his nose buried into your hair. It felt good. It felt safe. You remember what he said last night. About calling him, about letting him make sure you got home safe. You think about how quickly he called you when you told him you were sore. How he only reiterated that you should’ve called him last night to help you. He wants to help you. You feel a familiar gentle tug in your chest and it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You’re not scared.

Not of Joel at least.

You are scared of the secret you’re keeping. You’re scared of Ellie coming home and having to figure out what this means. Are you going to tell Ellie? In turn you have to explain he’s your dads friend. Ellie might be turned off by the fact that he’s older but when you turn and tell her he’s also friends with your dad? You don’t know how she’ll react. Actually, fuck that. You have no idea how Joel will react. You need to tell him. The tug in your chest changes to a quickening thud. Your mouth gets dry and you swallow thickly to try and make it better.

“Y’alright, darlin’?” Joel pulls back and looks down at you, feeling you tense up.

You look up, staring blankly for a second. You need to pull yourself together before he questions you more. You won’t be able to keep yourself from spilling everything if you start. Just like that- you snap out of it. Wanting to keep this moment, keep Joel, as pure as possible for the time being. The sharp emptiness in your eyes fade and you let them go soft, switching your brain off so you can focus on Joel. It’s easy to do when he’s standing in front of you. Easy to get lost in his eyes. Studying every hair, every mark, every curve and every crease on his face. The tan from years spent working in the Texas sun. The way the grey in his hair seeps along his temples.

“M’alright.” You tell him, turning your head to press your head against his chest.

The soft whirs of his body fill your head. Then you hear it. The gentle thud behind his chest. You walk your fingers up his torso, pressing your palm against his chest, ignoring the way your scrapes pull when you flatten it against his shirt. You feel it there. He’s real and he’s here.

Joel doesn’t ask you again. He doesn’t ask anything else for sometime. He lets you rest against him, raking his hands up and down your back. He knows something is up, but he doesn’t want to press. Joel just wants to be here for you. He knows you’ll key him in when you want to. Patience is something Joel has a lot of when it comes to this. To you. He surprises himself with that.

You’re the one to pull away, feeling a little too vulnerable for comfort.

“Time to make the icing?” He asks.

You’re surprised when he speaks up, but you nod your head. You feel a little spacey after pulling away from him and maybe he reads that. Because he takes the lead. He’s asking you questions in a soft voice, how much of this to add to that and how he should mix it. He even takes some on the tip of his index finger and holds it out to you.

“S’it taste right?” He gestures with his finger again.

Your eyes flicker between his finger and his face. You lean towards him and lick the icing off of his finger. It makes your cheeks hurt from how sweet it is. But it tastes right. Tastes like it always has. It tastes like home. And Joel. The fudgey chocolate is forward with the salinity of his skin on the back end. Joel watches you carefully like he can see the gears turning in your brain. It’s not sexual but it’s intimate.

“Tastes right.” You tell him.

He smiles warmly. You like the way he’s taking control. Just silently taking control. You like how dominant he is. Not in the fact that he’s ordering and demanding you around, not that at all. But noticing there's a problem and taking care of it. Taking care of you. He handles it with ease.

You jump when the timer goes off and Joel’s already pulling the oven door down.

“Look ready to you?” He asks, stepping to the side.

You squint and lean down, tapping the top of the cake with your finger. It's hot but not hot enough for you to pull back quickly. Just tap it to see the spring of the cake. You look at him and nod.

“It feels ready.”

“You can tell just by touchin’?” He asks, grabbing the oven mitts and slipping them on his hands.

“Yeah. It’s bouncy.” You say, leaning against the counter and watching him.

“Huh. You’ll have to tell me what you’re seein’. Teach me how to tell.” He smiles, setting the cake pan on the top of the oven.

You walk over and tap the top a few more times.

“Not wiggly. It’s bouncing back, there's a nice toasty feel to it. It’s done.”

Joel nods his head, taking off the oven mitts and laying them down on the counter.

“When do you have to head out?” He asks, coming to stand next to you.

You sigh and look at the clock on the oven.

“Maybe an hour.” You shrug.

There's a beat.

“Thank you for coming over.”

“I like seein’ you.” He tells you.

Your face grows warm at his admission. You like seeing him, too.

“I like hearin’ you.” He continues, a sly smirk toying at the corner of his lips.

Joel walks towards you, pinning you against the counter top with his hips. His hands rest on the counter at either side of you. You want to hide your face, embarrassed as he mentioned last night.

“Yeah?” You tease.

“Yeah.” He nods his head with a light laugh.

You laugh breathily and lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips. He tastes like chocolate. He’s warm, soft and inviting. He doesn’t break the kiss and neither do you. Joel tilts his head, angling his lips down to you. You respond, moving with him in sync. Your hands skid up his torso and over his shoulders to link behind his neck. He sighs softly through his nose, hands moving from the counter to rest on your hips. He doesn’t deepen the kiss right away. He keeps it light and playful. He’s working you up. He knows it too. He’s waiting for you to make the move. You don’t take long to do it. You stand on your tippy toes, pushing your tongue past his lips and sighing softly once you feel his.

“Happy you called last night.” He tells you through kisses.

You hum as response, too eager to continue kissing him to pass the time.

“Wanted to come over here real bad, y’know.” He keeps pulling away from your mouth to speak.

His lips connect with your jaw, then down the length of your neck, still whispering into your skin.

“Sounded real pretty.”

You bite back a small noise, letting your head fall into your shoulder, granting him more room to move about. His teeth sink into the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder and you tug his head back by his hair.

“Don’t leave a mark there.” You tell him, though you’re ready to crumble in his hands if he tries again.

“Don’t want me to leave a little bite on you?” He asks, peering up at you from his hunched position. “Don’t want anyone to see?”

“Not my dad.” You hiss halfheartedly at him.

He looks down to the spot, the soft indent of his teeth marks are still on your glistening skin. He drags the flat of his tongue over it before placing a kiss there instead. You squirm against him and huff out a breath.

“You’re teasing.” You state obviously.

“You want me to stop?”

“No.” You say too quickly.

He pulls back anyway.

“I said no.” You repeat and he chuckles.

“I heard you.” Is all he says.

You whine in frustration and throw your head forward into his chest.

“You need to finish the cake.” He reminds you.

You grunt into his shirt in response. He doesn’t pull away from you, just lets you hang out there for a moment.

“I know.” You finally mumble into him.

“Alright, sweetheart.”

“You’re kinda fucked up for that.”

Joel furrows his eyebrows.

“For what?”

You look at him like he’s got three heads. He steps back and tilts his head, waiting for you to explain. You gesture your hands towards him and then yourself.

“Getting me all worked up then reminding me that I have shit to do that isn’t this.” You wave your hands around at him.

He’s got a sly fucking smirk on his face.

“This?” He mocks your hand movements.

“Yes. Fucked up.” You repeat and sigh deeply.

You ignore his proud chuckles and you grumble something under your breath. You are cutting it close on your time. But Joel is here, in your kitchen. He helped you bake a cake, make the icing and just kissed you like you meant the world to him. How could you be in a rush to get away from him?

You turn the cake upside down onto a dish. It’s no longer steaming and it's cool to the touch. He’s right behind you, placing the bowl of icing at your side. You look at him over your shoulder, feigning annoyance. He notices and doesn't say anything, but he does smile. He settles behind you, his hands finding their place on your hips, one of his hands slipping to rest on your lower stomach. He sways as you move, adding icing to the cake with a spatula. He’s humming softly into your hair, pressing the occasional soft kiss right above your ear. It feels normal and easy. The warm weight of Joel pressed behind you while you’re doing something so mundane, so domestic. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies while you lean back into him.

Joel draws small circles with his thumb at your hip, slipped it under the material of your shirt. He thinks you’re so soft. It drives him insane. He was hesitant to wrap his arms around you like this. It feels different than the sexual intimacy that the both of you shared previously. When he felt you melt into his hold, he swore his heart kicked up. He has a soft spot for you.

Something about you is comforting. Joel hasn’t had that in so long, it’s too hard to push it away. He’s spent too many nights alone, drinking with his brother while he rambles about all the girls he’s been seeing. Joel never told him, but he was jealous. Jealous that he could let anybody in. Jealous at how easy his brother made conversation. He even tried setting Joel up a few times but it always fell flat. He’d had relationships after his failed marriage, seen the same girl more than once. But even since that, it’s been quite some time. You pushed and prodded, made little comments here and there that made Joel curious. You don’t feel like them. Joel doesn’t feel like he has to entertain, or put on a show. He doesn’t feel like he has any expectations to meet. He can just be himself.

You swirl the spatula around on the top, creating a little design out of divots and peaks.

“Looks real good, baby.” He whispers into your hair.

You stop and tilt your head back against his shoulder, looking at him through your lashes. He pulled back to look down at you. The two of you share a sweet look, breathing each other in. He always smells the same. Clean and smokey. Warm with a hearty, earthy tone. It’s comforting. You find yourself wishing your pillow smelled like it some nights.

“Wanna clean the spatula?” You ask with a smile, holding it up and turning around in his arms.

He nods and licks it as you hold it close. You push it into his lip, smearing a glob of the chocolate icing over his plump lower lip. He widens his eyes and chuckles. Joel brings up his thumb to swipe the chocolate off his lower lip.

“Really?” He teases with a tut of his tongue.

You laugh lightly and nod.

“Couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you wanna taste it again?” He raises an eyebrow, soft glint in his eye.

You open your mouth to answer and Joel lays the chocolate covered pad of his thumb on your tongue. You blink up at him, wrapping your lips around his thick digit and pushing your tongue into the icing. He sighs heavily through his nose, his other fingers resting at the side of your throat. He just watches you for a moment. You slowly hollow your cheeks around his thumb, sucking off the icing and releasing it with a small ‘pop’.

Joel loosely wraps his hand at the base of your throat. He pushes his slick thumb into the bottom of your jaw to keep your head tilted back against him.

“You look real pretty like that, s’a shame you gotta go, darlin’.” He whispers in a gravelly voice.

Your thighs twitch and press together, the syrupy words going right to your core.

“A shame?” You speak just above a whisper.

“Yeah, baby. A real damn shame.” He repeats.

“Why’s that?” You press him.

“Got me all worked up lookin’ the way you do.” He squeezes your hip and you feel your stomach tighten.

You push your hips back into him. Joel Miller is no liar. You feel him hard, pressed into the curve of your ass. If he didn’t have the hold on you that he does, you swore your knees would give out right then. You need him. Badly.

“Feel that?” His voice snaps you out of your daydream.

You nod to the best of your ability, despite the gentle grip he has on your throat.

“Don’t think I forgot what I told you last night. Did you forget?” He’s using such a condescending tone but fuck- coming from his filthy mouth?

It couldn’t sound better.

“I didn’t forget.”

“What did I tell you, then?” He presses his fingers more firmly into your jaw.

You clam up all of a sudden. He’s had you sprawled out on the counter with his head between your thighs and now you’re nervous? He just has that effect on you. He moves so confidently, there's little room to doubt that he doesn’t know what he’s doing. It’s intimidating in the best way possible. The way he makes you speak up, won’t touch you or give you what you need until you do what he asks of you. Even if it’s just a simple: ‘What did I tell you, then?’

“You said next time you see me..” Joel feels your throat contract under his hand as you swallow thickly. He’s watching you expectantly. “You’ll make me make a mess on your cock.” You’re surprised he could hear you given how softly it came out.

“That's why it's a shame baby, you’re making me a dishonest man.” He whispers into your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your lobe and then just below it.

He pushes his hips more firmly into your ass, pinning your hips against the counter. You can feel him breathe behind you. Chest slowly rising and falling. It’s embarrassing how easily he’s working you up. You’re more than positive he can feel the quick pulse of your heart just under your jaw, while he’s remaining calm and composed behind you.

“Since you’ve gotta go, I’ll tell you what-“ He proposes, tilting your head to the side while he peppers a soft kiss on your throat.

“I wanna take my time with you, sweetheart. Don’t wanna rush that one bit. Want to make sure you’re nice and worked up for me, yeah?” He whispers into your skin, you can’t help but let out a small noise.

His warm breath against your sensitive skin is making you shudder, your belly doing somersaults.

“You go ‘head and leave me today and I’ll make sure I make it up to you. How’s that sound, darlin’?” He continues to press gentle kisses to the side of your neck.

“S-Sounds good, Joel.” You stutter, sucking in a sharp breath.

He chuckles against your skin, biting gently there. Joel pulls back and turns your head towards him, pressing another soft kiss to your lips this time. He pulls back and gently squeezes the base of your throat.

“You gotta get goin’.” He reminds you.

You just stand there, looking at him. With that fucking smug look on his face, like he knows he got you all trussed up with no way to release. You’re in awe. How does he know exactly what to do, exactly what to say to hit you in all the right places?

“You’re no help. Keep me here later than I need to be.” You bite back at him.

You’re not mad at him. At all. Frustrated? Yes. Sexually frustrated to be specific.

“C’mon. I’ll help you to the car, baby.” He gives your shoulder a squeeze before turning and picking up the cake.

You stand there again- in awe. Joel Miller is one hell of a man. He keeps you on your toes. You hurry up behind him and slip on your shoes. He waits by your car and slips the cake onto the passenger seat when you unlock it. He reaches for you but hesitates. You’re right outside your house. Joel is supposed to be your maintenance man. He works on the neighbors' houses. You could hear his voice plain as day in your own head. You nod your head understandingly.

“It’s alright.” You reassure him with a small nod.

He gives a sympathetic smile.

“You text me when you get there. Alright, darlin’?”

“I will.” You nod.

He takes your hand in his and gives it a soft squeeze, careful to not irritate the scrapes.

“And take care’a these.” He adds on at the end.

You sigh softly and nod again before getting in the car. You sit there for a moment, watching Joel get into his truck and pull away before you pull out of your spot.

You knock on your dad’s front door, cake in hand.

“Aw, there she is. Startin’ to think you weren’t comin’, kid.” He opens the door with a smile, dish towel thrown over one of his shoulders.

“Hey, Dad.” You greet him with a smile.

He pulls you into a side hug and rubs his hand up your shoulder. A low whistle escapes his lips.

“Hooo boy. I never get tired’a seein’ this ol’ thing.” He gestures to the cake, taking it out of your hands and placing it on the counter.

He adjusts it a few times, taking a step back to admire it. You shake your head at his goofy antics.

“You’d think it had a rack the way I’m lookin’ at it, huh?” He looks over his shoulder to you.

You scrunch up your face and make a ‘blagh’ noise.

“Dad- come on.” You say, huffing in distaste.

He pats your shoulder and directs you to the dining room table, like you forgot where it was. He’s an oddball for sure You almost form a tear, the plate before you looks great. You’ve missed your Dad a lot but you might miss his cooking more. Wait, let you be specific. His grilling. You miss his grilling. He could grill whatever to absolute perfection. But for all that is good in the world, keep him away from a stove.

“This looks so good.” You tell him, smiling wide.

“Well it ain’t gettin’ any hotter. Sit and start chowin’ down kiddo.” He says while sitting across from you.

You comply without a second request, plopping down in the chair. He digs in while starting with pleasantries.

“How’s the apartment?”

“Good.” You say through a mouth full.

“When do you start the diner backup?” It’s his turn to talk through a full mouth.

“Tomorrow.” You swallow and take a sip of water.

“Ellie will be back tonight. I gotta pick her and Dina up really late.” You say before he can get more words out.

“I didn’t ask that.” He says, furrowing his eyebrows.

“But you were gonna, right?” You raise a brow.

He blinks at you, then looks down at his plate, shrugging his shoulders and shoving a chunk of steak into his mouth.

“Got me there, kid.” He says with a smile, one cheek bulging out.

He starts telling you about the side job he was at today. You take this opportunity to text Joel under the table:

You: made it here alive

He responds maybe a minute later.

Joel: I was getting worried

Worried? Was he thinking about you, then?

Joel: Now get off your phone. Bad manners.

You kinda like it when he talks to you like that.

Your dad is oblivious, telling you how the home owners have been a real pain in his ass. He’s ordering custom tile for their bathroom, he installs it. They decide they don’t like it anymore. So on and so forth. He’s changed the bathroom tile three times. You laugh at his frustration. It’s valid frustration but you can’t help but smile at the way he explains it. Like he’s done and tired of it, but you know he’s not. He loves doing it. That's why he tortures himself with it.

“That’s why, when this jobs done- I’m throwin’ a damn party.”

“A party?” You laugh.

“More like a barbeque, I guess.”

You nod your head, pursing your lips in thought.

“Been a while since you had one of those, it’ll be really nice.” You say genuinely.

He takes a long rip of a beer before answering.

“I know. I’ll invite some of the neighbors, friends and-“ He pauses, looking into his beer bottle.

You furrow your eyebrows and lean forward, waiting for him to continue.

“You- uh.. Heard from your Mom lately, hun?”

Oh.

It stings a little.

You don’t know why. Maybe it's the sad look in your Dad’s eyes when he asks about her. You don’t know if he’s sad for your sake, or for his own.

“Not since last year.” You say blankly. “Have you?”

He sucks his teeth while shaking his head stiffly.

“Why?” You ask in a flat tone.

“Was just gon’ say you’re more than welcome to invite her to it if you want.” He shrugs his shoulders.

You direct your attention to a stay string that sticks out of the seat cushion. You pick at it aggressively. You don’t respond. He doesn’t seem to mind. You think over the situation, playing scenario after scenario over in your brain before you decide you don’t want to deal with that. You don’t think you’ll ask. But it stays in the back of your mind.

When dinner is done, you do the dishes. You’re drying the plates and putting them away when he grabs your wrist, turning your hand over. He’s concerned, asking you about the scrapes. You wave him off and tell him you tripped on some uneven sidewalk the other day. He gives you a look, narrowing his eyes like he knows you’re not telling the whole truth. But he doesn’t press. He accepts that answer for now.

The two of you are sitting on the couch, his wide eyes boring into the TV that's playing a baseball game a little too loudly. Your dad has cleared half the cake. After he went back for a second slice, he just brought over the whole dish and has been attacking it with a fork since then. You position yourself more comfortably and start losing yourself in the game.

Joel Miller was pacing in his bedroom. His heavy boots made contact with the floor over and over again. Not long ago, he told you his visits needed to be more sparse. More secretive. Careful and quiet. He hasn’t enforced it or even brought it up since then. He can’t bring himself to. He likes seeing you. Especially this morning, how you looked at him while he helped you in the kitchen. The way your eyes, round as coins blinked up at him as he stood behind you. His chest hurt in the best way. He keeps telling himself not to get comfortable, because then he gets dumb. Too wrapped up in the what if’s and your pretty words.

“Fuck me.” Joel mutters while sitting down on the edge of his bed.

He kicks off his work boots and nudges them to the side. He’s hunched over, thumb and forefinger pinging the bridge of his nose like it’ll make him think more clearly. It isn’t working. He’s itching to text you again even though he clearly stated it was ‘bad manners’. Fuck, why did he say that? Is the lack of response because you’re listening to him, or did it turn you off? He doesn’t think it turned you off. If he remembers correctly, your body responds beautifully to demands he makes. Usually in a different context.

Fuck.

This is what he means. Babbling and going on like some school boy with a crush. The thick wall he spent years and years building up isn’t as strong as he thought.

Who would build a wall just to let it crumble?

If you’re the one breaking it down?

Joel.

Joel would let it crumble.

Knocking on your car window wakes you up. You jump, terrified. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

The last thing you do remember is Ellie texting you that they landed and need to grab their bags. Her and Dina are staring into your car window. Knocking on it again, Ellie makes a noise of excitement.

“Open up!!” It’s muffled.

You scramble to unlock the car, popping the trunk next. Before the sleep is out of your eyes, you’re out of the car and helping them load their bags into the trunk. Dina and Ellie are telling you all about their trip, one riffing off the other's story. All about Dina’s sister and her boy drama. It makes you laugh. It feels nice to have both of them back. Dina tells you about the museum they visited while they were there and how the workers let Ellie sit in the spaceship- even if it was only meant for children under 10. Ellie talks about how nice the local farmers market was. How they lived off of the local fruits and veggies there for the whole trip. They invite you to come next time.

You drop off Dina at her house, help ELlie get her bags out of the car and leave them to say their goodbyes.

“Thank you!” Dina yells and waves her arm from her front step.

You and Ellie watch her walk in the house and shut the door before pulling away.

It’s just the two of you now.

“You’d love that farm.” Ellie says with a wide smile.

“I bet I would. Give me a break from all the concrete around here.” You say jokingly.

Ellie chuckles and nods her head. She sighs softly and leans into the car seat.

“Have you been bored out of your mind since I left?” She teases.

No, not exactly.

“Yes. Nothing to do. I’ll start the diner tomorrow though.”

You look at Ellie quickly. She has a look on her face, like she’s waiting for you to finish your summary. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. You don’t say anything.

“So,” Ellie starts and you cringe at the tone.

It’s slow and wary. Not usually how the two of you speak to each other. It hangs in the air. Your eyes flicker to her and then back to the road.

“So.. Spit it out.” You say.

“Owen.” Ellie blurts out.

You want to feel Jesse’s windpipe collapse under your sore palms right now.

Ellie crosses her arms over her chest, turning her torso to you.

“What about him?” You say, trying to sound casual as you approach your street, hoping she will drop it.

“No way you’re gonna act like that. Why wouldn’t you tell me?” She sounds upset and she has the right to be.

You inhale deeply and grip the steering wheel, the scrapes on your palms pinching against the leather.

“It was nothing.”

“Nothing? That’s not what Jesse said.” Ellie bites back.

The car rolls to a stop. You push the gear shift into park and don’t say a word. You’re hoping your silence is enough of an answer for her.

“You fucking hate Owen.” Ellie retorts, her tone growing sharper.

It hurts. There's an aching throb in your chest weighing you into the seat of the car.

“I thought maybe there’d be something. Maybe I wasn’t giving him the time of day.”

“I’m sorry. Have you gone stupid since I left?”

That throb turns into a stab while you toss your hands up in defeat, not knowing what else to say. Her eyes widen and she grabs at your wrist, turning it over. The dull street light filled the front of the car in a warm orange glow that gave Ellie just enough to catch the concrete burn on them.

“Oh- fuck. This is nothing.” You pull your hand away from her while practically rolling your eyes.

It is not a big deal. You refuse to let her make it one. Everyone is out here acting like your hands are about to fall off when in reality it’s just simple scraped skin.

“Nothing? What the fuck is going on? You’ve been so quiet the past week.” She isn’t facing you anymore but her tone is still just as sharp.

“God, you’re all acting like the world is fucking falling apart. I got drunk, Jesse was giving me the drinks by the way-” Your words are flowing quickly at Ellie. “Owen came in and- does it really fucking matter? We didn’t do anything. Jesse ripped me out of there and all we did was talk. Owen bought me drinks and I drank them.”

Your words are jumbling, coming out quicker and louder. You didn’t mean for them to come out like that. They’re ripping right out of your throat all raw and sore.

“Does it really fucking matter?” Ellie repeats your words to you and it stings.

“Yes, it fucking matters,” She spits your name at you, turning to face you again. “You haven’t called me in fucking days. Been dicking my text left and right. Didn’t say fuck all about Owen. I-..” She stops to take a breath and calm her tone. “I found out from fucking Jesse. You didn’t say anything to me. I’m so sorry if it feels like nothing to you but there's no reason to shut me out. I don’t understand.”

“There's nothing to understand!” You raise your voice at her. “I’m fucking fine!”

What feels like hot liquid spills down your throat when you swallow harshly. It’s raw. Pain is stemming from your palms. You look down and see your knuckles are white, nails pressing into the cut up flesh. You groan and throw your hands into your lap. The familiar burn in your eyes lets you know what's coming and you can’t let it. You felt like you were shaken up, all the fizz was building and building and millimeters away from spilling over the top. Ellie stares in bewilderment at your tone.

“What happened since I left? Did you have an episode?” Her face relaxes, voice softer than it was moments before.

You want to scoff and roll your eyes at her but you don’t. She’s coming from a place of love. It’s not Ellie’s fault you’ve got yourself wrapped up in this. She extends her hand over the center console and all you can do is look at it for a moment.

The lump in your throat is forced down with a harsh swallow while you reach your hand out to hers and shake your head. The warmth of Ellie’s hand wraps around your own and she gives a soft squeeze.

“No. I’m okay.” You lie.

To Ellie.

To your Dad.

To Joel.

And now you’re lying to yourself.

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