#can not wait to find out what insane things hes gonna say in the next episode

[casmick-consequences]

literally the king of oneliners pt. 2 because he literally never misses

[pasukiyo]

EXTRA MOTIVATION

college baseball player!leon kennedy x f!reader word count: 2.4k warnings: smut!, fingering, sex in a public setting synopsis: when teaching her how to swing, leon has to come up with a more effective plan to get her motivated...

 “How am I supposed to learn how to swing when you’re kissing my neck?”

 Leon’s lips shape into a grin against the crook of her neck and she shudders when he pulls away, his breath warm against the saliva cooling on her skin. 

 “It’s for encouragement,” he says with a shrug, so casual for someone who’s driving her absolutely insane. A baseball whisks by and she flinches, nearly jumping straight out of her back into him. His hands find her hips to steady her and she can feel his laugh as it buzzes through his chest against her back. 

 “Jesus, can you turn the speed down, please?” She glares over her shoulder as Leon touches his lips against her shoulder. “Not everybody’s a goddamn Derek Jeter like you.”

 With a roll of the eyes and a featherlight kiss to the peak of her shoulder, Leon pulls away, tossing the net of the cage over his head. “Can’t believe you’d compare me to Jeter,” he clicks his tongue as he presses his thumb against the down button on the pitching machine’s control panel. “I easily hit circles around him.”

 She rolls her eyes as she leans on the bat. Cocky bastard. 

 “He’s the only player I know, because of you, mind you,” she remarks as he enters the cage again, a corner of his mouth tugged in a half-grin. “Anyways, fine. Not everyone can ‘hit circles around Jeter’ like you can.”

 Leon titters and touches his lips to her temple, sliding behind her once again. “That’s more like it,” he whispers beside her ear, slapping his palm against the right side of her ass. Her entire body jolts and she hisses, narrowing her eyes at him from over her shoulder as another ball passes by, at a slower, more manageable pace this time. “Is that better?” He asks, gesturing with his head towards the plate where the ball had passed over just moments ago. 

 She turns and pauses, waiting for the next pitch to fly. She watches it as it passes, a small arch to it as it goes by, smacking the rubber backstop. She deeply inhales, feeling every single drop of air that gathers in her lungs before she releases it. 

 Why did she agree to this again?

 “I guess,” she finally replies, picking the bat up off the ground, trying to figure out where to grip the handle. “Now, how do I hold this thing?”

 She’s sure a dirty joke can be written there, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Leon was itching to tell one. If he was, he doesn’t act on the urge— fortunately— and he instead pulls away, muttering an “almost forgot.” 

 She watches as he steps out of the cage again, rifling through his ball bag until he holds up his helmet. Her face falls as he steps under the net again, grinning. “Gotta protect that pretty head of yours,” he says, kissing the crown of her head before sliding the helmet on. It feels heavy and a little awkward because it fits a little big, so she has to tilt her head up to even see him. 

 “This thing smells like shit,” she complains. 

 Leon wrinkles his nose, “are you saying I smell like shit?”

 “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she deadpans. “I’d also like to add that your head is enormous.”

 His lips fall in a scowl and he spins her around by her shoulders, wrapping his hands around hers on the handle of the bat. “Careful, or that mouth of yours is gonna get you into trouble,” he says, adjusting her grip on the bat. “Dominant hand over the other. Leave a little room between your bottom hand and the knob.”

 She watches as his hands guide hers to where they need to be, another ball whisking by. “Maybe you should’ve turned the machine on after you taught me how to stand,” she says, feeling him shrug behind her. 

 “Too late. Now,” he begins, torquing her hips with his palms. “The key is to use your hips as your guide. The power’s all in the hips, baby.”

 She rolls her eyes and lolls her head back, gently knocking the top of the helmet against his chin. He snickers, bringing one of his hands to wrap around either of hers again. “When you see the ball release, take a step with your front foot. It’s your windup.”

 She goes through the motion as another ball passes. She waits in her position for his next instruction, his hands still on hers and holding her arms back. Her back begins to ache and she shifts uncomfortably as he pats her back thigh. 

 “You’ll twist this leg before your arms go into motion, using your hips just like I showed you,” he instructs, placing his hand back on her hip to guide her. “Your hips will guide you through your swing,” he says, finally grabbing a hold of her hands, slowly going through the swinging motion. “Like this.”

 They go through the motion a couple more times until she thinks she’s ready for the real thing. Leon walks her to the plate and gets her into position, pressing a kiss to one of her shoulder blades. “My little baby’s first hitting lesson,” he murmurs against the fabric of her t-shirt. “Time moves too fast.”

 Her eyes roll and she nudges him out of the way with her butt. “You’re insufferable.”

 She can only envision Leon’s grin behind her. “You love it.”

 With a pat to her ass, he backs away and she gets into the stance Leon showed her, willing herself to breathe as she watches a baseball roll down to the machine. It ejects— and she blinks. She swings the bat just like he’s taught her— and misses. 

 The ball hits the rubber mat serving as the backstop with a loud thud and she deflates, arms falling to her sides, leaning against the bat. 

 “I missed,” she says, a little dejectedly and Leon chuckles behind her, his hands rubbing either of her shoulders, his lips touching the side of her neck. 

 “Can’t all be naturals like me,” he jokes, nipping her skin. Her eyes roll, her elbow jabbing into his stomach. “Kidding,” he saves himself. “It just takes practice.”

 His palms soothe up and down from her hips to her waist, his breath hot as it looms over her neck. Her breath catches in her throat as another ball goes by and she blinks when it hits the backstop, Leon’s hands snaking around her waist to the line of her shorts. 

 “And maybe some extra motivation?” He murmurs against her shoulder, pressing kisses into her skin all the way up until he reaches the edge of the helmet. Gooseflesh erects on her arms and quivers trail down her spine while his fingers toy with the hem of her shorts, his forefinger slipping beneath to draw a line above her pantyline. 

 “Leon,” she near-whimpers, feeling that familiar ache blossom between her legs as his fingers sink beneath her underwear. He hums against her neck, the pad of his middle finger finding her clit, his touch like the jolt of lightning that brings her to life, electricity flowing through her veins. 

 “Every time you hit the ball, I’ll make you feel good,” he whispers, breath curling around her neck, twisting all the way up to her ears in a warm embrace. It makes her shudder as Leon’s finger brushes against her clit, back and forth. “Easy enough, yeah?”

 She thinks she’ll hit him with her bat. 

 “You drive me crazy, Leon Kennedy,” she mutters through gritted teeth as his middle finger flicks her clit, trailing down to her entrance, gathering the slick there. Her breath hitches as another ball passes, Leon’s lips curving into a grin between her collar and jaw. 

 “I’m counting on it, pretty girl,” he whispers, sliding his hand away from her shorts, pulling away from her altogether. She peers over her shoulder at him as he backs away, lips wrapped around his middle finger, a smirk on his face. 

 Her brow dips— one of these days, she’ll get him back. 

 She turns back to face the machine, getting back into position. She waits with bated breath as the next ball rolls through the machine, soaring through the air towards her. She swings with full confidence that she’ll make contact this time but that hope dies almost as soon as it comes once her bat swipes through the air above the ball, hitting air. 

 Blood bites her cheeks as she glances back towards Leon who simply stands with his arms crossed over his chest, the dark ocean in his eyes rippling with a playful luster she’s seen far too many times to count. She huffs and turns back to the plate, readying herself into position. 

 She misses again. 

 And she misses the next. 

 But the time after that, she gathers a lungful of air into her chest, heart pounding and core aching with determination. She’d have to hand it to Leon— he strikes a good bargain. Her pussy surely thinks so too. 

 Her vision zeroes in on the ball as it rolls through the machine, ejecting from the emitter and soaring towards her. She thinks back to the motions she and Leon went through, piecing them all together in her mind like it’s one giant puzzle. She holds her breath in her throat as she puts all the steps together— and finally makes contact. 

 It’s not a Division 1, college scholarship worthy hit by any means. In fact, it practically hits the ground as soon as the barrel of the bat makes contact— a daddy hack, she’s heard Leon refer to it as— but it’s contact nonetheless. Elation surges through her veins and she pumps her fist in the air, face splitting in a smile as she hops, turning to face Leon. 

 “Who’s Derek Jeter now?” She exclaims as his lips crack to reveal the pearly whites behind them, his chest stuttering with his laughs. “Deal’s a deal, Kennedy. Now get your ass over here and touch me.”

 Leon’s chest rumbles with his laughter as he throws his hands up in admittance, sauntering his way towards her. “Deal’s a deal, can’t argue with that,” he says as she drops the bat, peeling off the helmet and sending it pummeling towards the ground. Leon’s arm snakes around her waist to pull her closer, his other sliding between their bodies, cupping her mound from over her shorts. Her lips fall agape in utter shock as he nears, their noses just barely touching when he whispers, “you’re lucky I’m a man of my word.”

 His fingers are like shots of ecstasy injecting straight through to her veins as he slides them back down her shorts, finding the aching bud at her center. She tosses her head back but he cups it with his palm, bringing her back in to press his lips against hers. Their tongues tumble around each other in a sloppy, languid kiss, humming into one another’s mouths as his middle and pointer fingers sink their way through her entrance, rubbing against her warm, velvety walls. 

 Her lips part around his and he takes it as his opportunity to gain control over their kiss, teeth clashing against hers with a fervor only Leon can match. 

 “Shit, you always get so wet for me,” he practically groans into her mouth, sliding his fingers in all the way until their knuckles deep. It’s already enough to liquify her insides and jellify her knees. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?”

 The endearment has more of an effect on her than she expected. She mewls against his mouth, clutching his bicep and sinking her nails into his flesh. She cants her hips into his hand, the heel of his palm rubbing friction against her clit when she does. It has her mind reeling, her head spinning. 

 Leon snickers at her reaction, pulling away from her mouth just to stare into her eyes, to watch as she falls further into submission in the palms of his hands. It makes his chest swell with pride, makes his cock twitch and strain against his boxers more than he’s willing to admit. 

 “You like that, huh?” He chuckles, moving the heel of his palm side to side against her clit, just to fuck with her. “Being called a good girl, hm? Being called my good girl.”

 It’s unfair how a voice can have so much of an effect on her. It’s embarrassing even, but she leaves no room to protest, for he’s adding a third finger and all she can think to do is moan, “Leon!”

 He brings their lips together again, grabbing a fistful of hair from the back of her head to keep her in place. She feels like she’s in a trance, her hazy mind turned to dark, murky slime with each pump of his fingers. 

 “You do like it,” he titters when he pulls away from their kiss for breath, shaking his head. She pinches her lip between her teeth as he digs her closer to her end, one of her arms locking around his neck to brace for impact, her opposite hand clinging tighter to his bicep. “Don’t think coming was a part of the deal, but I’ll make an exception, just for my good, good gi—“

 The sound of the entrance to the cages permeates the building and it snaps either of them out of their lust-drunken hazes. With some reluctance, they push away from each other and she works to straighten out her shorts as Leon licks his fingers clean, turning just as two of his teammates make their way towards their cage. 

 “Carlos, Luis,” Leon says in greeting, a hint of an annoyed edge to his voice. She turns, scrambling to gather Leon’s bat and helmet she dropped to the ground, core throbbing, begging for attention. 

 “Kennedy,” Luis greets, dipping his chin as he says her name in acknowledgement too. She simply dips her chin as she turns, pressing Leon’s equipment into his chest. He turns to face her, a line between his brow. She huffs— perhaps sex in the batting cage just wasn’t in the cards for them. 

 She’s about to push past him when Carlos says her name, lifting a small, gray object in the air.

 “This camera yours?” He asks and she freezes where she stands, nodding. “It’s still on, in case you didn’t know.”

 Her molars sink into the flesh of the inside of her cheek as she pivots slowly around on her heel towards Leon who only lifts his lips in a tight, impish grin. 

 Crazy, she mouths. You drive me crazy. 

a/n; i wrote this like 4 months ago and only just now got around to posting it i’m so sorry 😭 i hope it isn’t too late to reheat my college baseball player leon nachos 🤞

⚾️ if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply! your feedback is always appreciated 🫶

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[hoshifighting]

latino!mingyu

WARNINGS: smut, latino life, im jus kidding (ou não também), mentions of alcohol, flipping the cap before kissing you, fingering, oral, dirty talk, hair pulling, public-teasing, public-make out.

if nobody said it, i will. MINGYU LATINO!!! mingyu who, no matter where he is, somehow finds a reason to grab a beer, and yeah, it's gotta be ice cold. “wanna pilsen, babe?” he’s already tossing one your way before you can answer. like, let’s be real here, this man drinks anything that remotely resembles beer. pilsen, brahma, skol, corona? he’s down. anything to cool off that tanned, toned-ass body of his after playing fútbol/futebol/soccer, anyways, for way too long just ‘cause he knows you’re watching. and when that shirt comes off? goddamn, everybody in the surroundings is drooling. mingyu knows it too, that cocky grin spreading across his face, and you're just trying to act normal. but it’s impossible when the man is literally glowing under the scorching sun.

he danced at his cousin’s quinceanera/festa de 15. of course, he did. he’s that hot cousin, the one all the aunties fawn over, talking about how he’s grown up so well, while the guys on the block are salty ‘cause their girls won’t stop staring when he's shirtless walking in havaianas flip-flops. he’s out there, not giving a damn, smiling, swaying his hips to reggaeton with you, and trust—he’s glued to your ass like you owe him something. or clapping his hands and asking you to dance samba with him. you roll your eyes, but you’re lowkey hyped up by his attention. that man is always hyping you up, calling you “amor/cariño/gatinha/mama/bebe” like it’s a full-time job.

every party, every gathering, someone’s got him dancing with their cousin, their sister, their aunt even (and he’s good at it).

mingyu who comes to your ear, whispering dirty things, just to see you getting all wet. “you look so fuckin’ good tonight, mama. can’t wait to get you back home and ruin that dress.”

he says it like it’s a casual thing, with that smirk of his. the kinda smirk that says he knows you’re weak for him, the way you flush when he so much as drags his fingers up your arm. and he’s not wrong. you could play it off cool, but he’s already in your head, already got you thinking about what’s gonna happen later.

mingyu who's skin is so damn hot, like he’s a human furnace, and you swear it’s impossible to cuddle with him for too long without needing a breather. the dude radiates heat like no one else, and even though you love the way he wraps around you—those big arms pulling you tight, holding you like he’s never gonna let go—there’s always that moment where you’re like, “okay, I need to cool the fuck down before I melt into a puddle.” and he always laughs about it, gives you that lazy smile while you’re fanning yourself, like, “what? too hot to handle?”

but the thing is, it’s not just about the heat. there’s something else in the way mingyu touches u, like he’s always trying to get as close as possible. sometimes, he has no shame in it—like when he gets that look in his eyes, and next thing you know, he’s got you pinned against a random house on the street, his mouth crashing into yours. tongue and tongue and tongue, his lips moving against yours like he’s starving for you. his hands? they’re everywhere—flying down to grab your ass, squeezing like he owns it, pulling you closer, so you can feel just how bad he wants you.

and oh my god, when he turns his cap backward before kissing you? dead. you know it's coming—the way he runs a hand through his hair, then flips that hat around. it’s such a small move, but fuck, it drives you insane every time. like he’s gearing up for something more, and you know that look means he’s about to ruin you in the best way possible. no warning, he just dives in, lips pressing hard, tongue slipping inside your mouth, claiming you. he kisses like it’s his job—wet, messy, and so fucking good you lose yourself in it every time.

then there’s mingyu in bed. and the man’s got skills 😭, and he knows it. when he’s behind you, hands in your hair, pulling just enough to make your back arch, it’s game over. you’re a mess, and he’s thriving off it, low growls escaping him as he fucks you from behind, his hips slamming into yours with that steady, unforgiving rhythm. he’s so into it—one hand gripping your hair, the other on your waist, guiding you, pulling you back onto him. and he doesn’t just pull your hair like it’s a casual thing—oh no. he pulls it slow, but then suddenly he yanks harder as if he's silently telling you “this is mine. you’re mine.”

and don’t even get started on his fingers. mingyu’s got the best fingers, and he knows exactly how to use them. whether it’s slow and teasing, dragging it out until u’re practically begging, or fast and rough, working you up until you can barely think straight—he’s a pro at this shit. sometimes, he’ll have u spread out, fingers deep inside you, curling them, head bobbing as he sucks your clit. and he watches you fall apart under his touch? it’s like he’s studying every reaction, committing it to memory so he can wreck you even harder next time.

but the dirtiest thing about mingyu? it’s the way he talks when you’re in public and trying to keep it together. you know the type—when you’re at dinner or out with friends, and you’re trying to be normal, trying to focus on the conversation, but mingyu’s sitting next to u, whispering the filthiest shit in your ear. his voice is low, just for you, and no one else at the table has a clue what’s going on.

“bet you’re so fuckin’ wet for me right now, aren’t you, baby? can feel how bad you want it.”

and he says it all casual, like he’s not making you clench your thighs together under the table, trying to keep from giving yourself away. but he knows, and he’s not letting up. his hand brushes your leg under the table, fingertips barely grazing your thigh, and your heart’s pounding because you know what he’s doing.

“if i slid my hand up your skirt right now, you’d be soaked. don’t lie, mama. i can see it in your eyes.”

and it’s so fucking hard not to react, not to moan right then and there. but you can’t. you won’t. because you're in public, surrounded by people, and the last thing you need is to let everyone in on the fact that mingyu’s got you trembling in your seat. but he loves it, loves seeing you try to hold it together, that smug grin playing on his lips as he watches you squirm. “gonna take you home later,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear, “will make you cream on my cock, make you scream my name. don’t think you’ll be so quiet then.”

it’s all you can do to keep breathing, to keep pretending like you’re fine when, really, all you want is for mingyu to make good on every dirty promise he’s whispered in your ear. and you know he will.

[tootiecakes234]

Katsuki Preparing for the Proposal:

*if you want to read the Part 1 you can click here

“Can you for once just do what I ask you without questioning everything Pinky? I’m offering a spa day full paid and you’re acting like I’m holding you at gunpoint!” I said exasperated.

Ive been on the phone for 10 minutes for what should have been a 2 minute phone called. I’d called and told Mina that i would pay for y/n and her to have a spa day. Massages, nails, hair, the works. What i didn’t expect is for the this woman to put up a fight about it.

“ I’m just trying to make sure a villain hasn’t taken over your body and is impersonating you! But fine, twist my arm. I’ll take your card AND your girlfriend and go do some damage on your dime. I’m tired of going back and forth. What time should I be there to get her?” She asked cheerily now that she’d accepted to “gift” being offered to her.

“Around 11 in the morning. You guys can go get lunch or something. And again I say, big mouth, do not tell her that I’m apart of this. Do you understand?” I said in the most threatening tone possible.

“Sir yes sir.” She mocked at me. “I’ll text her to set up it up now. Oh and I hope whatever you’re planning goes accordingly to plan, Mr. Inconspicuous.”

The gurgle that came out of that my mouth had Mina laughing on the other end of the phone.

“Shut up idiot. I’m not planning anything. Bye!” And i quickly hung up the call.

Dammit. She’d better not know anything. Eijirou better not have run his mouth and Pinky sure as hell better not run her mouth. Putting faith in any of my shitty friends to keep a secret was like trying to sweep sand at the beach… hopeless.

I had no other way to guarantee that y/n would stay away from the house long enough for me to get everything set up.

I’d gone into my office and locked the door to call Mina just to make sure she didn’t overhear anything.

When I finally made it back to the bedroom, she was in bed on her phone and didn’t LOOK like she suspected anything so that’s as good as I could hope for right now.

“Mina just randomly texted me and said she wants to go to the spa tomorrow. Isn’t that weird? It’s 8 o’clock at night and I just saw her earlier and she didn’t mention anything about it.”

“Mina’s weird all the fucking time anyway so no more than usual I guess. You should go though…. I mean you’ve been saying that works been stressing you or whatever.” I know I’m a shit liar, but this insane technically lying, so I’m hoping she buys it.

Ever since I’d decided to propose to her, everything I say sounds like something rehearsed or scripted and it’s putting me on edge. I’m either gonna give this woman this ring or have a goddamn heart attack trying.

“Hmmmm, you’re right. She said she’s going to cover it so why not.” She texts back and then sets down her phone on the nightstand score she turns to me. “I have the best friends in the world, don’t I?”

“Yea… just fucking terrific” I said frowning

“Katsuki, baby, don’t be jealous. I’ll tell Eiji to get you guys a spa day for your birthday. It’ll be a cute little outing.” she says all cheeky.

“No way in hell. I’ve gotten massages with E before and that bastard groans and moans while he’s getting his. I’ll be damned if I suffer through that again.” That makes her giggle but I’m being completely serious.

She does that a lot, finds humor in my honesty. One of the reasons I can’t wait to marry her. She’s one the few that I can be myself with and never feel like I’m saying the wrong thing or being the wrong me…. Fuck.

“Hey, where are you right now? You’re looking at me but you are not in the same space?” And I feel her warm hand press up against my cheek.

“Nowhere, just thinking. I’m tired, long day. You ready to go to sleep?”

“Mhmm.” She leans and presses 3 quick kisses to my lips before she turns to turn off the lamp next to the bed.

The time she snuggles down into the sheets my arm is wrapping around her and pulling her back flush against my front.

“Goodnight princess”

“Night Kat-daddy”

The last thought before I drift to sleep is that hopefully by tomorrow night I’ll be sleeping next to my fiance instead of my girlfriend.

*ok, so I don’t like writing super long fics soooo this is going to end up being part 2 of 3 or 4. I haven’t decided. But I feel like all this filler is super cute and important because Katsuki is actually such a simp and such a nerd underneath all that attitude and I wanted to showcase that soooo please don’t be mad that this isn’t the actual proposal🥺

Katsuki Masterlist

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[meydang]

cute wings

(sfw)

Nameless!Sunday x Nameless!reader

Based on Sunday's ultimate animation and my own headcanons about halovian's lore.

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"So what was that move you whip out earlier? The one with the vines and everything!" You said, clearly impressed while sitting down on one of the couch.

"Have you been hiding the other two pair of wings or do they only come out when you do that last move?" You asked eagerly when Sunday enter the parlor car, the both of you having just gotten back from your trailblazing expidition together. Your eyes following him as he joins you on the couch, with sparks of curiosity in it.

It hasn't been that long since Sunday joined the Astral express, but he could definitely say that it's been enough for him to start opening up to all the nameless and vice versa.

"Ah, are you refering to my supporting spell?" This is the case especially for you, with your seemingly endless energy and desire to learn about everything, it's only a matter of time before you start flooding him with all these question about anything that piqued your interest.

"For halovians, our wings are like a representation of our emotion and power, similar to that of our halo." Sunday pause for a moment, you guessed to try and think of an answer that will satisfy your question.

"To put it simply, take that fight we just won earlier for example, I was using my power to aid us, the wings that appeared were due to my strong emotion and use of power at the moment." He turned to look at you as you nod multiple times, trying to grasp your head around the new information like a lost puppy trying to figure out where it is.

You do that quite often - something Sunday has took notice and find endearing.

Cute, he think.

"Sooo... does that mean the wings can only come out when you are in a state like that?" You finally said after some time. "Aw pity, I was hoping you could make them appear anytime you know, I think they are really adorable!" You said what you were thinking with all honesty, completely oblivious to the fact that your last comment caught the halovian off guard and flustered to his core, hints of red dusting his cheeks.

"Th-that is not entirely correct, I can make them visible if I want to, but I'll need to be in a state of strong emotion or focus on my power in that case." Sunday tries to brush of your compliment about his wings with his answer, but before he could given it anymore thoughts, you have already came up with an idea.

Sunday jolts slightly as you prop your chin onto his shoulder, your face display a smug expression, looking up at him with your hand on top of his own.

"Wait, if I'm correct... Then I'll just have to make you feel emotions strong enough for your cute wings to come out, right?"

Huh? What did you just say? What are you planning? How did- what? There is a million things going through Sunday's head right now and the fact that your gaze are still fixed on him while this is happening does not help at all. Sunday doesn't know what is worse, the way he got insanely flustered just by a few compliments or you being extremely close to him right now.

"Well...? Aren't you gonna say anything?" He heard you said in the slowest and most teasing way possible, as if to get even more reaction from him. Before he could even answer, you stood up and move infront of him.

"Sunday." you said while bending down to face him, your hands on your knees and face tilting down at him with an adoring smile.

Huh?

"Yes?" He managed to say, his head spinning to guess what are you planning to say next.

"Although it hadn't been long since you join the express, you have been adapting and trying your best to keep up with the crew really well." Sunday can feel his cheeks burning with every sweet words uttered from your mouth. You on the other hand, are determined to get his marvelous wings to come out.

"You have done a great job as a nameless... Don't you think so too?" You continue, still looking down at him but leaned in a bit closer, too close for Sunday to maintain his composure. If he still has any, that is.

"Ah, th-thank you. That's very kind of you to say." As his wings move to cover his face, he can here an audible 'aww' coming from you which caught him by surprise. Resulting in him moving them to his side again, for a better view of what was happening.

"It worked!" Opening his eyes, Sunday sees you smiling and gushing over his wings - ah, right, his other wings that have appeared due to him being oh so flustered just by your simple remarks.

"May I touch them?" You asked, your gaze gentle, yet still intense that it makes Sunday gulp nervously as his face turn even more red.

"Yes, you may." Sunday doesn't know why he gave you permission, as if you being in such close proximity to him wasn't enough to get his heart pounding. Especially with the fact that his wings are actually pretty sensitive.

With a happy grin, you reach out to glide over the feathers with the back of your hand, not missing how doing it make Sunday shudders a bit.

"Oh, sorry!" You retrieve your hand after noticing.

"No no, it's fine... please continue." He assured, not wanting you to feel bad. Even if he doesn't exactly want you to keep thumbing his wings like this... purely because it's making him all embarrassed and a blushing mess.

"You know... what I said earlier about you joining the express. I wasn't just teasing you, I actually meant it." You reach out for his wings again, this time with a soft smile, making sure he knows you are being sincere.

Sunday made a dumbfounded expression, or atleast you think he is, his face shows a mix of gratitude and confusion as he stare at you.

"I am grateful that you hold me on such high regards, though... I do not believe I have made any significant contribution to the express, more less better than all of you." Sunday answered truthfully. How could you say all these good things about him when he doesn't deserve any of it? How are you still able to welcome him with open arm? After all his mistakes, after the grand pursuit of a dream paradise through such manipulative methods, and-

"Sunday!"

He blinked,

Once,

Twice,

"Hey, are you okay? You just zoned out for a moment." You move your hands from his wings to his shoulder, sitting down next to him again, tone worried.

"Sorry... I was just deep in thought. Were you saying something?" He quickly apologized, feeling bad for making you worried. Yet again another reason he doesn't deserve your praises, Sunday blames himself.

"I said stop thinking bad about yourself. Don't ever say anything like that... nobody is perfect, everyone has their own flaws and values. You just have to not let your doubts get to you." You turned Sunday towards your direction a bit, so that he's looking at you in the eyes.

"Hm, promise me you'll never think negatively about yourself again." You said firmly, waiting for him.

"I-I promise." With an exhale Sunday replied to you, smilling. "Thank you."

You smile back "There we go, now that's my little angle~"

!?

This is the second time you have caught him off guard in this conversation. Little angle? At this point he swear you will be the death of him eventually, Sunday think as you suddenly lit up.

"Well, let's lighten things up a bit..." you said, pulling out your phone. "Say cheeseeee" what are y-

Snap

Just like that, a picture of Sunday smilling sheepishly and flapping his wings was sent to the astral express family group chat. Earning you a panic, embarrassed Sunday and the multiple 'aww's from the trailblazer and March.

_

The Astral Express Family

You: (picture)

You: I found a happy bird on the express today~

March: aww

Trailblazer: wow! Six wings!

Trailblazer: aww

Sunday: ...

_

[slimybeth69]

Part 2- Cave In

Series Masterlist | Part 1

Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

content warnings: Reader (no descriptions besides having hair that can be pulled) is in a weird mindset; hears voices, talks to herself. non-con/dub-con (if you're looking for enthusiastic consent, ya wont find it here) smut, cock-warming, unprotected P in V, creampies, oral (m&f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, pussy and peen pronouns, alcohol consumption (altered mental state). Joel wears a shock collar and other various horrible things that would keep him in check-- and he doesn't fucking like it.

Reader warning- flashbacks of readers graphic and sad past!!!

While it looks real pretty, this is a Dead Dove, Do Not Eat. If ya do and then come complaining to me that you ate a dead dove-- I'm gonna fight you. I warned you!

Joel’s mind drifts off to the days and nights he spent teaching Ellie how to play guitar– watching her learn, grow more confident in the way she held the instrument. Then hearing her play her first song is one of his favorite memories. He wonders what her, Dina and JJ are doing right now. 

He wonders if Tommy and Ellie are looking for him– Joel can’t imagine they wouldn’t be. Not after what they did in Seattle a couple years ago. His daughter and his younger brother would come looking for him, and eventually they’d find him- and rescue him.

The three of them- Joel right alongside them, would kill you in the process, he’d make sure of it. 

That’s all he can think about– being rescued and watching you die as you wrap a second layer of duct tape around the oven mitts on his hands. 

As much as Joel hates you, he can’t deny that you’re resourceful. 

With the shock collar still around his neck, and now, two pairs of oven mitts secured to each of his fists, Joel watches you untie his arms from the chair. 

He is stiff, and misses the fucking sun. Joel just wants to the feel the warmth on his face- but he can’t really even think about that now, he’s thinking of all the ways he’s going to fucking knock you out the minute you crawl into his lap. 

He’ll knock the shock collar remote out of your hand, headbutt you– a real one, he’ll go right for your nose and try and break it– then he will wrap his big strong arms around you, and squeeze until he can feel your ribs snap.

He’s got it all planned out- until he hears the sound of more duct tape ripping, and he wonders what part of him you’re going to tape next. 

Joel watches in horror as you tape the remote to your palm, your thumb gingerly laid across the button that would shock Joel probably into next week. You wrap the tape until Joel can barely see the remote anymore. 

You’re more resourceful than he thought, and that’s terrifying. Joel is almost sixty years old– he’s being outsmarted by some insane woman who lives in a mall in what now is the woods outside of Jackson. 

How did you get here? Where’s the rest of your group or community? Joel hasn’t seen a single other person since he got here, and he hasn’t seen or heard you interact or say you had to go meet up with anyone since he’s been here. 

There is no way you’re surviving out here all on your own on peanut butter, raspberries and whiskey. 

“Let me go,” his voice croaks. “C’mon. Y’don’t really wanna do this.” He’s pleading. He hasn’t fully begged yet, not pathetically– which is what you must want to hear. You wanna hear Joel– the big strong man cry and whine and beg for you to let him go. 

You drop the roll of tape on the floor beside your feet, “Got some rules ya’ gotta follow, Mister.” You ignore Joel, taking an inched step towards him. “Number one is ya’ don’t hit. You don’t hit– I don’t zap ya'. Sound fair?" You don't wait for him to reply. "Good. Glad we're on the same page.”

Joel rolls his eyes and is immediately met with an intense muscle spasm throughout the entire right side of his face, and down his neck. It spreads out over his shoulder and through part of his chest. 

It lasts for only a split second, but it leaves Joel panting, his brow already beaded in sweat from just that short electric shock. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ– don’t fuckin’--" he starts to warn you with a stern tone and narrow eyes– but he’s greeted by your wet, stare only inches from his. 

Your mouth opens and closes once, twice… three times before any sound comes out. “Stop makin’ me hurt you,” you whine, one single tear falling from the corner of your eye. “I really don’t like hurtin’ ya’-- I don’t wanna do it, so don’t give me reason to, right?” 

Joel glares at you while deep down inside him somewhere his heart twists slightly. 

Awww, look it’er cryin’. Cute lil puppy, alone, out here in the woods–

Joel blinks twice as you crawl into his lap, your soft, warm body pressing against his tentatively, as if you were waiting for him to start fighting you off, to start screaming and shouting at you. 

He wants to so badly, he wants to feel his forehead connect with the bridge of your nose as hard as it can– but it’s like you hypnotized him when you curled up on his lap. 

“Now ya’ wrap your arms ‘round me,” you breathe against Joel’s neck. 

Joel fucking sighs at the feeling, almost wishing you press your lips to the spot directly behind his ear.

Go on, move your arms…

Fuck no! Something is seriously wrong with him, he needs to talk to someone besides you. He knows you’re a bad person; a good person wouldn’t do something like this. 

Joel knows that if he puts his arms around you the way you want him to, he might start squeezing, and keep squeezing regardless of the pain from the electric shock. He’d seize up and wouldn’t be able to let you go, even if he wanted.

That might not be a bad thing though, either Joel would kill you, or you would kill him. It would solve his problem either way– and that was fine because he didn’t want to keep living like this. He couldn’t.

It would drive him fucking insane. He already feels like he is going insane the way he wants to kiss your neck, and suck on the spot where your collarbone ends, and your throat begins.  

C’mon, fuckin’ do it. Ya’ know she wants it, give it to her– make her fuckin’ beg for it first…

Oh fuck, Joel knows that is the unstable part of his brain talking– and he has to shut it out. 

You are Joel’s attacker, his fucking captor– the one keeping him from his family, the one he worked so fucking hard to get back. He might never see them again because of you. He’s thinking of all the ways he could hurt you–to hurt you badly, he wants to see you dead– but all those feelings of anger and hatred flee from his brain when you press the most soft, sweetest, barely-there kiss to his jaw. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder. The way you sigh and melt into Joel, molding to him, has his head spinning for a whole new reason, and he’s completely fucking sober this time. 

See big feller, ain’t that hard t’just comply.

Joel realizes only then that he has both of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him, with his cheek resting on your head. 

She ain’t t’bad, right? Smells nice’n sweet, like a pretty lady.

It’s so hard to hate you and want you dead when your soft, sleepy breaths flits across the skin on his neck. 

“I have more movies–” 

“Anything besides the princess movies- please,” Joel sighs, not removing his cheek from your head. “I can’t do the princess movies again, anything else…”

“Do you like Batman?” The action of you lifting your head off his shoulder is the only reason he pulls away from you. “The cartoons?” 

Joel snorts, and nods his head at you. “I do– me ‘n Tom–” Joel stops himself from sharing too much with you for no reason whatsoever, his eyes dropping to your bare thighs. 

It makes his mouth water when he looks at them, even though they’re bruised to hell, with fresh cuts and old scars adorning your supple, and kissable looking skin. 

He can feel you looking at him, waiting for him to finish what he was about to tell you. His eyes flash up to yours when you question him. 

“Who’s Tom? Whatta’bout him?” 

Joel can see your desperation in your face and eyes–they're wide, still slightly wet with the tears from zapping him moments ago. You must want to know so badly, and he decides to use it to his advantage. 

“Get me some meat– anything– n’ I’ll tell ya’.” Joel can’t help but smirk to himself because this is going to work. 

Your eyes light up, and you lean in real close- the tip of your nose pressed against his. “Promise?” 

Joel nods, his eyes locked on to yours, “Promise.” 

Give’er a lil kiss. 

Joel leans forward to do it, but you pull back with your brows furrowed and a scowl on your face. 

“No. Ya’ punched me last time ya’ did that.” You whisper at him, still frowning. 

“Sorry f’that-” Joel starts but you don’t let him finish. 

Your head shakes from side to side quickly, eyes still wide– untrusting, but desperate for something, he’s seen that look before so many times in so many different sets of eyes. After you scramble out of his lap, finding your footing on the floor beside the chair, you look down at him, still frowning. 

“Sorry don’t mean nothin’- not out here it don’t.”

S’okay, Sug. You’ll be fine– Mister-man’s gonna be real thankful. 

“Well he fuckin’ better! I hate gettin’ shot at, I hate havin’ t’fuckin run real fast- I hate that the place is almost three fuckin’ hours awa–” Your eyes fall onto the horizon where the sun is starting to rise just over the mountains in the distance. “Ain’t even get any fuckin’ sleep–”

Oh Sug, it’ll be worth it, he’s gon’ tell you–

Lies. He’s going to tell you lies, and for what!? You almost got shot–

“I know I almost got shot— You don’t think that I know I almost got shot!?” You’re nearly shouting in the woods. “Now both of yous be fuckin’ quiet– m’tired, and I twisted my fuckin’ ankle–”

And it’s the truth, you did twist your ankle when crossing the stream about a mile back, and thankfully the raiders had stopped following you a while ago, but with all the adrenaline it was easy to keep running. That was, until you slipped on those stupid fucking rocks.

It takes you thirty more minutes to get home, and by the time you do everything hurts, and you just want to go to sleep. Your ankle throbs with every tender step you take.

Taking a deep breath, you plaster on a smile and push open the door. "Honey, I'm home," you call out in a sing-song voice, trying to mask all your exhaustion and this fucking pain that won’t quit.

Mister’s already watching for you as you make your way slowly down the stairs. His eyes narrow as his eyes mill across your frame.

You don't look great. Disheveled, torn clothes, scrapes on your hands and knees from when you fell.

"What happened t’ya?"

Oh he’s worried ‘boutchya! Let him help you, honey.

You wave off his question with a limp hand. "Never mind me,” you toss your backpack on the table, the bottles of whiskey clank around inside noisily as you sit down in the metal chair beside Joel’s recliner. “Gotch’yer meat you wanted to fuckin’ bad.” You say, rolling your eyes.

Mister-man looks you up and down. "Y'look like hell," he says, his eyes tracing over the scratches on your arms and legs.

You ignore his words and his wandering eyes and open up your backpack. “I got jerky,” you pull out two large containers of dried meat and set them on the table. “-got bread ‘n more peanut butter— they had jam this time.”

“Who is ‘they’?” Joel asks, his eyes never leaving you even as his arms and wrists begin to twist gently under the restraints.

Embarrassment floods you, it takes over everything that you are, just like it did when you told him you had been watching him for a while. You know what you did was bad, and you shouldn't be stealing or killing-- but you're only doing it for him!

You look at him, with a hollow feeling in your chest that you can't quite place. "They’s just... people," you say quietly. "They don't matter none."

Joel tilts his head, studying you so intently that makes you want to squirm. "Ya’ hurtin’?" he asks, voice rough like sandpaper grating your ear canal.

“Who is Tom?” You avoid all questions about you, and any issues you have because why burden Mister-man? You're not his problem, you want to give him a worry, burden free life here in the mall with you and Puddin'.

Mister watches you very carefully as you pull a slice of jerky out of the container, he’s practically drooling when you place it as his lips. He groans as he begins to chew, and immediately takes another bite before he’s even swallowed the first.

He doesn’t answer— not even after the entire piece of jerky is gone, so you withhold the next piece.

“Who. Is. Tom?” You shift closer to him and wince when your ankle brushes against the leg of the chair.

"Tom... Tommy is my brother." His voice… there's something almost tender in his tone when he says his brother's name.

It feels like someone it clenching your heart in their fist, and they’re fucking squeezing.

"You're my fucking sister!" His voice is so hoarse, raw and desperate. It doesn't even sound like him anymore. "Don't— please, don't fucking do it, I'm sorry-" "You told me sorrys don't mean nothing anymore— not out here they don't!" You shout back at him, the gun in your hand trembles right along with the rest of your body. "You were supposed to t-take c-care of me! You p-promised mom and dad," you sob, your thumb pulls the hammer of the revolver back and your index finger squeezes the trigger. "Hey, HEY!" He holds both of his hands up, a weak attempt to shield himself from whatever is about to happen. Shoot him, kid. He deserves it after what he put you through. He let those guys— The gun just goes off, you don't even feel yourself pull the trigger. All you see is a fine, red mist explodes from his forehead and the back of his skull— and then everything is quiet, everything is calm. Good job, Sugar. I'm so fucking proud of you.

That was the first time you ever heard the light voice, the sweet voice that says nice things to you.

And m'gonna be here for ya' forever, Sug.

“I know,” you sigh.

Mister blinks at you, “You know Tommy?”

You blink back at him, “No?”

The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy like the evening air at the end of the summer. Joel watches you, his eyes darting between your face and the jerky still in your hand. “Okay…”

“Did Tommy like Batman?” If Tommy likes or liked Batman or anything about that universe at all, he’s an okay guy in your book.

“He likes Superman,” Joel chuckles when he delivers the news. “I’m the one who likes Batman.”

You audibly gasp, “You like the comics and the cartoons?”

Joel's lips twitch at the corners, almost forming what looks like a smile. "Used to read 'em with Tommy when we was kids. " His eyes fill with sadness.

You lean forward, tilting your head to the side in curiosity. "Why’re y’sad?" you whisper, the pain in your ankle momentarily forgotten.

"I ain’t sad," Mister-man is gruff. "Tommy and I used to collect comics, argued about who was cooler. Obviously Batman, 'cause he ain't got no superpowers. Just pure skill. Tommy thought Superman was better."

“Both of ‘em suck— I just like Harley Quinn,” you nod.

You were going to say more but the very faint sound of clicking ticks in your ears. It’s far enough away that you can get upstairs and drop the metal gate that locks the store up nice and tight.

It’s never fun, and you don’t like having to do it— but thankfully you just made a haul, so you’ll be good for a couple day.

You just hope Puddin’ is okay. Ya' saw him yesterday, but he didn't sleep in the big bed with ya' like he normally would.

“Har—” Mister-man starts, oblivious to the terrors that are lurking just above your head.

“Shhhhhh,” you hold your finger up to your mouth and furrow your eyebrows at him. “Stay quiet ‘n I’ll give ya’ some more jerky, okay?” You whisper almost silently.

He nods and stays quiet because he knows how scary those fucking things are, and he probably doesn’t want to be tied to a chair if one every came around.

Standing up feels like a pack of sparklers— like the ones they used to have at the 4th of July parties when you were a kid, before all this— it feels like those, popping and sizzling up your leg. You have to bite back a moan as your body leans against the table for support. The table skids across the floor noisily as you hold yourself up on it and it makes your blood run cold.

You have to get up those stairs and drop that gate, Sug. Mister is countin’ on you…

It’s like time freezes and all you can picture is poor Mister getting torn apart.

You hesitate listening intently. The clicking grows louder, a sickening, bone-chilling sound that echoes through the abandoned mall. Your twisted ankle throbs, but adrenaline starts pumping through your veins.

“Gotta move, sweetheart.” He must have heard the clicking this time too. Joel’s whispering voice is even and calm even though your chest feels like it could cave in on itself, your ribs feel like they could explode inward towards your lungs like sending shattered bone fragments hurdling towards your delicate, soft insides. “Y’can do it. I know it hurts—”

The metal gate. Everything around you goes silent, and the only thing you can hear is the sound the gate makes when it closes and locks into the floor. You have to get to the metal gate.

You clutch the railing with a white knuckle grip and pull yourself up the stairs two at a time, biting almost completely through your bottom lip, grunting with each painful step.

The clicking is clearer, and closer now that you’re on the same level as the infected, and you can tell there is more than one, and they’re moving fast.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” you hiss as you limp towards the entrance of the store.

As you reach it, you can see the seven infected closing in fast. Your sweet, sweet Puddin’ is hauling ass towards you— the infected right on his little, scaly tail.

“C’mon Pud,” you whine, dropping the gate down for just enough room for him to run through, and possibly let one of the infected in if you weren’t quick enough closing it behind him.. “C’mon Puddin’!”

It’s like your words spur him on and his little legs kick into overdrive. He slips under the metal gate just as the infected slam into it, throwing you off your balance. You’re thrown back at least three feet, and watch in horror as the gate starts to rise on its own.

Move kiddo, come on! Get your ass up and fucking shut that gate!

Your body screams in protest as you scramble across the floor, your twisted ankle sending sharp bolts of pain through your leg.

Puddin' is playing dead right behind you, but you don't have time to think about him right now. He's safe and inside, that's all that matters. The gate keeps rising, inch by torturous inch, and the infected are pushing against it with stupid inhuman strength!

"No, no, no," you mutter, pushing through the pain. The clicking grows louder, more frenzied, as the first infected begins to squeeze its misshapen head underneath the rising gate.

Pulling the knife from your belt in one hand, you bring it down into the skull of the infected trying to slip through, and with the other, your fingers grapple for a hold on the handle of the metal grate.

The infected skull cracks open with a sickeningly wet crunch, dark blood and gray matter splattering across the floor.

Your hand finally grips the smooth metal tightly, even though now your palm is nearly dripping with sweat, and with a grunt that feels like it's being stolen right out of your lungs, you pull down with all the strength you have left inside of you.

The gate comes down with a crash that echoes throughout the mall, the infected on the other side of the gate screech and squeal loudly. Some of them stick their arms through the slots, and their skin peels back like overripe fruit, claws scraping desperately for any piece of you they can reach.

You don't even want to think about how grotesque they are, you flip the lock that secures the gate to the floor as their fingers grapple and scratch deep into your skin. It clicks into place and you finally exhale, not realizing you had been holding your breath.

So fuckin’ proud of you, Sug. Knew you could do it.

The shrieking cries of the infected fill the otherwise silent mall and the confined space you’re now trapped in. You can't help but glance back toward Puddin'—the little white and gray furball who is still playing dead.

“S’okay, we’re safe,” you sigh, letting yourself rest on your elbows and then on your back completely. You stare at the ceiling, and wonder how long the infected will stick around.

The sounds coming from right above Joel has his heart racing, and he’s trying to free himself from his restraints harder and more desperate than ever before.

With a roar of determination, uncaring of the dangers above him, he jerks one arm up and then down. It’s not enough; he can still feel them biting into his skin painfully, creating new rope burns.

“C’mon, c’mon!” he grunts as time stretches into an eternity. The picture of you being shredded by gnawing and gnashing teeth makes his stomach churn.

Just as that thought creeps in, he hears a metallic rattling, but the wailing of the infected are still clear as day.

The clang of metal echoes again, and for a moment, he thinks maybe you did it. Maybe you’ve locked them out. Maybe you just signed yours and his death certificates and locked some of them in the store.

He tries to twist his wrists again, then again, but each movement sends sharp, stinging pain surging up his forearms. “Fuck!” He exclaims loudly.

She’s up there, fightin’ them off all alone—

"I know, dammit.” His jaw is tense and he focuses all of his energy on trying to loosen the ropes enough, or rub them against the metal fame to fray it enough so he can snap them. The strain builds in his muscles, and he can feel the ropes biting deeper, but he can’t stop— the feeling inside him brings him right back to the hospital in Salt Lake when he was looking for Ellie.

He thought he had felt helpless then, he thought he had felt helpless when that girl and her group of friends had trapped him and Tommy in that cabin— but now he knows the true definition of despair. Tied to a chair, listening to you getting torn apart right above him, and then he’ll have to watch those infected come to tear his throat out.

The door to the basement opens slowly, and Joel’s heart almost stops beating completely. Bile rises in his throat at the uneven steps that start down the wooden steps. It’s a slow, clumsy sound accompanied by grunts and pained whimpers.

When your boots come into his line of sight, he exhales loudly. The sight of you, safe and still breathing sends a warmth through Joel’s spine that spreads into the rest of his body and he’s not sure why.

Awe shit, she’s hurtin’ real bad.

Joel fucking knows, he can see it with his own two eyes. You’re limping, worse than you were went you bolted upstairs and now you’re covered in fresh wounds, and blood trickles down your left forearm, wrist and fingertips, leaving little droplets in your wake. Your cradling something dead and furry in your right arm.

“Ya’ get bit?” Joel’s skin prickles as he asks, trying to get a better look at your arm, straining to see in the dim light.

“Naw,” you grunt at him, sitting in the chair you had been sitting in before you had run upstairs. “Just got scratched.”

Joel eyes you, unsure if he can believe you while you extend your left arm and show him the deep gouging scratches carved into your flesh. “S’bad,” Joel murmurs as you press your arm against your dirty jeans. He flinches at the sight, and turns his arms under the ropes.

What’chya wanna do? Hit her or help her?

Both? Joel synchronously wants to do both. He wants to lay you down on the mattress across the room and tend to your wounds. He wants to wash the blood of your skin, and wrap you up— watch your eyes glisten and sparkle as he cares for you. And then Joel would beat your face bloody, and bludgeon your chest in until it caved.

“M’fine,” you offer weakly. “Ain’t the worst that’s ever happened t’me.”

Somewhere deep inside of Joel twists painfully when the inflection in your tone tells him you think that’s true.

“How’s your ankle?” Joel doesn’t bother looking, he knows it’s bad by the way you limped down the stairs.

“Said m’fine,” you grumble, setting the dead animal down on the table very gently next to the shock collar remote.

“What’s that? Fresh meat finally—”

Joel doesn’t even see it coming, your hand moves so fast and the next thing he knows he is being zapped into silence.

“Ain’t fuckin’ fresh meat- you don’t ever speak about Puddin’ that way, ya’ hear me?” You zap Joel the entire time you’re speaking, and he can barely hear you over the screaming between his ears. It’s deafening and blinding, and making him feel fucking stupid.

“Fine fine.” Joel grits out through a jaw clenched so tight he might actually break his teeth.

You flick the remote off and toss it on the table as if it’s too hot to touch any longer. The buzzing in Joel's ears fades slightly, leaving only the thudding of his heart and the rasp of his breathing.

“I fuckin’ hate hurtin’ you,” you sob softly, wrapping your arms around what appears to be an opossum. You pull it closer to you, and nuzzle your face against his fur.

Joel recoils at the sight, but watches as the dead animal comes to life, and gives your cheek a gentle lick. “That’s your pet?” He asks, disbelief dripping off his tongue.

You don’t look at him, or even really acknowledge that you heard him— you just continue to snuggle the animal and cry quietly.

Joel doesn’t really know what to do, he wants to comfort you in a weird way, but he still wants to see you dead? But the thought you dying also scares him a little?

It’s ‘cause you wanna be the one snuggled up next t’her. Jealous of an opossum—

No the fuck he doesn’t! Joel does not want to snuggle up to you, he doesn’t want to feel your warm body pressed against his—

Even though she’d fit perfect right next to ya’. Picture it, ya’ got’chya arms ‘round her ‘n you got your legs all wrapped in hers…

The sight of you, vulnerable and fragile with that small, stupid animal, tugs at his heart in ways he hasn’t experienced in years. He shakes his head violently, as if he could actually dislodge the thoughts spinning in his mind. “You’re fuckin' crazy,” he mutters to himself under his breath.

Your chair scrapes across the floor as you turn quickly to the right so you can face him. Your jaw ticks and one of your eyes twitch. “I ain’t fuckin’ crazy— stop sayin’ that.” You whisper to him. ���Why ya’ bein’ so mean? I jus’ saved your life…” Your face twists up like you might start crying again, and your eyes now are still wet with the tears you had been crying moments ago.

“Saved my life?” Joel scoffs through clenched teeth, the remnants of your electric assault still tingling faintly in his fingers and toes. “That’s what y’think you did for me?” He can feel his resolve faltering as the fat, wet tears begin to roll down your cheek, but he forces himself to stay angry. It feels safer— it feels better that way. “More like puttin’ me through hell, darlin’.”

He doesn’t even mean for the word darlin’ to come out of his mouth, he wasn’t even thinking it, at least— he doesn’t remember wanting to cal you darlin’.

But the moment it slips out, he watches your expression change. You wipe at the tears staining your cheeks, smearing dirt and blood across your face. A flicker of something warm and soft ignites in your eyes, like sunlight breaking through dark clouds. “Darlin’…” you echo him, a fractured smile threatening to bloom despite the pain etched across your features.

Joel’s heart sinks, and also bursts with pride all at the same time. You are in fact insane, but he made you stop crying.

Look’it that, she’s almost smilin’ now.

That warmth spreads through him again, against his will—against all logical reason. “I didn’t mean it,” he mutters, not really sure if he did mean it or not. Yet the sight of you still clinging to that opossum, caressing him carefully as he nibbles gently on one of your fingers. The sight draws him in deeper than he would like to admit, but he just wants to clean you up, wrap you in bandages and then let you fall asleep on his lap.

“Didn’t… mean it?” You repeat the words like you don’t understand them, and your smile falters just a bit as you study his face, searching for truth. “Liar,” you smirk at him.

There is a warmth in your crazy eyes that makes Joel want to sink as far into the chair as he possibly can, he wishes he could disappear but he doesn’t. He says, watching you like he’s frozen in place. “Nah, s’just the shock talkin’,” he whispers and nods his head to one side like there would be a video replaying the who ordeal that happened only moments ago. He wishes there was so he could watch it happen over and over, so he could build up the walls around him, keep you the fuck out of his head.

“Yeah…” There is a distance to your tone, like you’re not really there anymore, and you drop your gaze to the opossum nestled in your arms. “Ya’ made me do that though,” you whisper, eyes flicking up to him quickly— they’re darker, a little scary and Joel wishes he could hide inside his own skin.

“Made you?” Joel’s voice rises, anger flaring throughout him like a wildfire in a forest of dead, dry trees. It spreads fast before Joel can control himself.“Y’think I made you do that? You are a crazy fuckin’ bit—”

You zap him again with a jolt that sends white hot sparks crawling up his spine, and sucks the air right out of his lungs.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” you scream and clutch the opossum tighter.

Joel watches as it goes back to playing dead in your arms. He’s about to shout back at you, start a screaming war and hope those infected break through that gate upstairs and kill both of you— but then you whisper something quietly, and Joel almost doesn’t catch it.

“I’m not gunna fuckin’ do that, stop tellin’ me t’kill him.”

Joel’s blood runs cold like ice… who the fuck are you talking to? Or about?

“Are you still hungry?” Your voice is soft, almost sweet now. “I can get you more jerky… I got lots of whiskey—” you say, the fierce anger from moments ago melting away, replaced by a manic eagerness to please him. You reach for your bag again, your arm still bleeding badly— but you’re unfazed by it, or at least doing a good job pretending it doesn’t bother you.

You pull out a glass jar.

“Are those coffee beans?” Joel can barely believe his eyes. His mouth starts to salivate immediately.

You wrinkle your nose at him and shrug your shoulders. “Dunno— they look like some kinda bean— smell all burnt up to shit though,” your nose stays scrunched up as you begin digging around in your bag again.

“Lemme smell,” he can barely contain his excitement as he watches you unscrew the lid to the mason jar. There is a hesitation in your movements when you go to hold the jar under his nose, like you’re trying to figure out his game, the trap he’s set. Your eyes scan all around him, face and body unmoving. “I jus’ wanna smell it— I’ll tell you if it’s coffee or not,” he’s as close to begging for something as he’s ever gotten.

“You like coffee?” You sound so curious, and gingerly place the mouth of the jar under his nose. He takes in a deep inhale and the wonderful, deep and rich aroma of coffee fills his nostrils.

Joel groans loudly, and for a long time as the scent permeates his sinuses, he can almost taste it on his tongue for a fleeting moment.

“Take that as a yes,” you giggle and let him breathe in the smell a little longer. “How do I make it for ya’?” You ask, pulling the jar away and screwing the lid on tight.

“Gotta grind those beans up real fine— then let it brew in some hot water.” Joel explains, watching as you dig around in your bag for more of your loot. "They make special pots for it— percolators."

"Percolators?" You parrot him, tilting your head to one side—

Cute lil puppy.

You fucking are, Joel hates to admit it to himself but even all covered in blood, and muck— looking like you've been to hell and clawed your way back out by the skin of your teeth— your eyes are bright and alert, watching him intently.

"Yeah, keeps the coffee grounds out of your water—" he starts, but you cut him off.

"So you put those crushed up beans… in the water… to just not want them in the water at the end of it all?" You hold up the coffee beans and look at them incredulously, your eyes squinted and narrowed on the glass jar with one eyebrow cocked up slightly.

Joel can't stop the corners of his mouth from turning up at your expression, your face still dirty and tear stained. "Never had coffee before?"

You shake your head at him, and continue rifling through your bag.

The opossum on the table comes alive again now that you're calm and quiet, he pops his little head up and this is when Joel notices the small teal and pink collar around his furry neck. As you pull the rest of the things out of your pack, the little critter starts to lick and clean your wounds.

It makes Joel grimace at the sight of the wild animal trying to help you, take care of you, but again— it tugs at a place inside of him he hasn't dared venture in years.

You're in the small bathroom just off the main room cleaning up in the sink you filled with water from a jug you brought down yesterday. “Ya’ wanna sleep on the bed t’night?” You nod to the mattress pushed up against the wall across the room.

What the fuck?

Mister-man looks just as shocked as the dark voice in your head sounds. “Ya’ gon’ let me sleep comfortably- take these fuckin’ ropes off me?” His voice is bitter and bites at you, makes you furrow your brows at him.

Sug, he’s been tied up for a while now—

For good fucking reason, he’s going to kill her the minute she unties him.

He’s got the dang collar on now, he’s gonna listen to her.

What happens when she falls asleep? Huh? She’s been up going on almost eighteen hours—

How d’ya know how many hours it’s been? She don’t have a watch or a clock!! You don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ ‘bout.

She’s going to fall asleep and the minute she does— he’s going to strangle her.

The image of Mister-man with his hands around your throat makes you do two things— it makes your stomach flip, and it makes your cunt clench.

What the fuck was that?

She likes the idea of Mister-man chokin’ her a lil, dont’chya Sugar?

The heat rises from your chest and up your neck, behind your cheeks. You kinda do want Mister to choke you a little, but not with the intention to kill you!

“What’re you fuckin’ smirkin’ ‘bout over there?” Mister snaps at you.

When you look at yourself in the mirror, you are smirking and just standing in front of the sink frozen in place. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the images of Mister’s big, strong hands around your neck. “Nothin’,” you lie to him, which makes you feel bad— but you can’t tell him that’s what you were thinking about.

Tell him, see what he says…

Will you shut the fuck up—

“I figure you can sleep there ‘n I’ll sleep in the chair t’night— still gon’ have to tie you up, but least you can lay down…”

That’s not really what you want. You want his arms wrapped around you, and your legs all messed up in his. You wanna feel his warm breath on the top of your head because that’s gotta be the best way to fall asleep, feeling someone else’s warm body, feeling their heart beating inside their chest.

Let’s ya’ know they’re really there- ain’t a dream or something you’re imaginin’.

“Why the hell d’ya want me all comfy f’anyway, huh?” he asks, suspicion laced in his tone, but a hint of curiosity glimmers behind his dark brown eyes.

You shake your head and go back to cleaning your arm so you can bandage it. “No, I’m jus’ tryin’ t’be nice. Figur’d you could stretch out if ya’ wanted.”

He watches you, that suspicion still etched into the lines of his face, but the curiosity is unmistakable, swelling in the way his brow furrows deeper and his lips twist just slightly. “Why ya’ tryin’ to be nice?”

“I dunno… don’t want you hatin’ me no more—”

Stop it right now! Shut the fucking door and stop talking to him.

“Why would I ever stop hatin' you?” His voice is low, almost a whisper. Mister-man hones in his gaze on you like a hawk. “You think bein’ nice t’me is gonna make me forget that ya’ tied me up down here?”

You shrug lightly as you wrap a bandage around your arm, feeling the warmth of blood already seeping through the fabric.

Don’t listen to him, Sugar. He don’t mean it.

Sounds like he fuckin’ means it.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” you say softly, finally meeting his stare head-on. “I just wanna feel normal again…”

Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

Yeah Sug, keep that to ya’self.

You feel ashamed, real shame, uncomfortable for sharing too much, and now the voices are agreeing with each other? That’s never a good sign. You’ve done something wrong.

“Normal?” He chuckles, but it feels malicious. “Ain’t nothin’ fuckin’ normal about this, sweetheart.”

“Stop sayin’ that if you don’t fuckin’ mean it!”

His laughter dies down, leaving an awkward silence between you. The room feels smaller, somehow and it feels like Mister-man is right on top of you with judging eyes. “I do mean it,” he replies, softer now but still sharp and angry. “Y’think it’s normal t’be tied up in the basement by some—”

“Some what?” You interrupt him as the anger rises to meet the shame and hold its hand.

Mister stares at you, face unchanging when he speaks. “Some. Crazy. Fuckin’. Bitch.” He enunciates every word. “What is this? Some fuckin’ fairy tale to you? One of your stupid princess movies, huh?”

“They’re not stupid,” you snap back, your voice rising in defiance. “And I’m not crazy. I just…”

“Just what?” he presses, his tone challenging. “What do you want from me?”

Don’t fucking say it.

“I jus’ want ya’ t’like me,” you whisper- feeling small and insignificant. “Want ya’ t’not hurt me again,” you point to your still slightly blackened eye.

His studies you like you’re a problem that he can’t solve— the muscles in his jaw flex, and he pinches his brow together tightly. “Ya’ want me t’like you?” He echoes softly, he says the words like they might unleash an evil into the room.

You nod, feeling like you’re frozen and on fire all at the same time, it makes your stomach churn like you might be sick. The way he’s staring at you make you feel naked and exposed.

“Why?” he asks suddenly, breaking through the silence and makes you flinch.

“You’re handsome,” you let the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them.

He shifts in the chair like you made him uncomfortable, confusion weaving its way into the creases of his hardened and in fact, beautiful face.

“Handsome?” he repeats the word like it's a foreign language, like it’s something he hasn’t heard in ages.

“I sure think so,” you nod again.

Your face is so hot it feels like it’s being held to flames.

Well, this is the most you’ve talked to anyone in a real long time, Sug… it’ll get easier.

You could just stop talking completely and go to sleep. You’re delirious.

No she ain’t. Mister-man is handsome, and she want’s him inside her again real bad.

Your walls clench around absolutely nothing at the thought of his thick, throbbing length plunging inside of you, stretching you to fit around him perfectly. The idea of it happening again makes you dizzy and you can’t help but bite your lip, your face somehow grows hotter than you thought possible.

The look Mister gives you- the half smirk, one raised eyebrow makes you think he can read your mind.“Handsome,” he snorts softly, eyes never leaving you, but now they trail down the curves of your body. “You trynna ‘sit in my lap’ again, sweetheart?” The words come out of his mouth slow like molasses, and that country twang he has sends a shock right to your core.

“Maybe,” you say, voice trembling slightly but unwavering, “maybe if you wanted to, I would.”

His face softens slightly, the anger and suspicion melting away like snow in the sun. He raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. "Why would I want that, honey?" he asks, his voice teasing slightly.

“You seemed to want it the other night,” you limp out of the bathroom and sit down in the metal chair beside his recliner.

“I was real drunk,” Mister explains, but his demeanor has changed, he looks relaxed, he’s resting his head on the back of the chair, looking at you through hooded eyes. “Ya’ took advantage of me,” he growls softly, but beckons you over with a nod of his head.

“Ya’ told me t’do it…” you snap. “I ain’t take nothin’. Advantage- I ain’t-- what? You asked me t’do it!”

He sure fuckin’ did ask you! How dare he say that bullshit ass—

I hate to admit it, but… he’s right—

The last thing you ever wanted to do was take something from Mister-man that he didn’t want you to take! It’s the worst feeling in the world- being held down and forced into—

Shhhhh, Sugar. It’s alright, s’all over now. It was just a misunderstanding.

“I ain’t m-mean t’do that,” you say weakly through the lump forming in your throat. “I thought ya’ wanted me t’do it— that’s why ya’ punched me?”

His eyes widen slightly, “I didn’t punch ya’ for that.”

"Then why did ya’ punch me?" Your voice cracks slightly as tears begin welling up in your eyes again; embarrassment filling every cell within your body once more.

“I was gonna try’n leave. Go home—”

“Ya’ lied t’me… said you’d stay,” you whimper, wiping the tears before they can fall.

“Please stop cryin’…” Mister-man's voice is surprisingly gentle as he speaks, and you feel your heart squeeze in response.

You sniffle, trying to regain your composure. "I wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t ask me first," you mumble, wiping your nose on the back of your sleeve.

"Why not?" Joel asks softly. 

Look'it that, ya went'n made her cry! For what!? She's just trynna be nice t'ya! Jus' like she said. She wants a lil boyfriend, someone t'snuggle up with at night-- like a normal person!

There isn't anything fucking normal about you, not at all. 

“I ain’t like stuff gettin’ taken from me,” you admit quietly, turning your gaze away from him.

Joel narrowed his eyes, sitting up a bit straighter in his recliner, the leather creaking underneath his weight. "What’ya mean by that?"

“Lets get ready for bed, ‘kay?” You ignore his question and stand up, wincing when you put any weight on your ankle. You hold the remote in your mouth gingerly as you begin untying him from the chair.

****

Joel watches you from the mattress in the corner. You have his hands still bound up in the oven mitts, and now you’ve tossed a rope over a pipe in the ceiling and tied up his elbows so he can move and lay down. Stretch out if he wants to, but he can’t walk more than five or six feet in either direction— and the pipes secured tighter than he had been hoping it would be.

Joel can hear you reading the Batman comic books to yourself and that opossum you keep calling Puddin’, but you haven’t looked or spoken to him since you tied him up an hour or so ago. Just left him with two things: a plastic bottle of water and metal flask with whiskey in it. He was silently thankful when you twisted the lids off without him having to ask.

He knows struck a nerve with his question, but he didn’t really expect you to shut him out completely. He takes a swig from the plastic water bottle.

Ya’ want that sad lil puppy t’come over here, dont’chya?”

He does, oddly enough. You being crazy was better than you giving him the cold shoulder, like he wasn't even there.

He wonders if you read to that stupid animal every night, and if you snuggle with him in the bed you sleep in upstairs. He wonders if you have to drink yourself to sleep every night with how many bottles of whiskey you brought back.

His mind just continues to race.

****

Joel can’t sleep. He thought for sure the minute he put his head down, he’d drift off and sleep better than he has since you tied him up down here, he’s got a blanket and a pillow now but they do nothing to comfort him into closing his eyes.

Call her over, see if she’ll come snuggle up next to you.

“Hey,” Joel whispers into the completely dark room.

“What?” You whisper back to him from the void.

“C’mere— it ain’t fair ya’ gotta sleep in that chair. I know s’uncomfortable.” What the fuck is he doing? He’s not going to willingly allow you into his space, is he?

“M’fine,” you murmur back to him. “Go t’sleep.”

“Can’t sleep— come sit in my lap again,” Joel smirks to himself because fuck, what he would do to feel your warm cunt enveloping him like you were made strictly for him, and him alone. It makes his cock twitch just thinking about it.

Joel holds his breath, waiting for you to respond. Then, finally, you murmur back, your voice barely more than a whisper, “Why would I do that?”

“‘Cause I’m handsome…” Joel teases you, listening to the way the chair creaks as you shift on it. He wishes so badly he could see you. “I know ya’ wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too.”

“Y’just wanna punch me again, try’n escape—”

“Where would I go? Them infected are still up there, I ain’t gettin’ outta here anytime soon,” he’s being honest. He had thought about it, but the idea of having to share a room with your dead body— even if he moved you upstairs, the idea of having to wait around with your corpse until the infected cleared out gave him a bad feeling.

It’s ‘cause you don’t wanna kill ‘er. Ya’ wanna be deep inside that tight, wet, warm perfect hole.

“Fuck,” Joel mutters under his breath. His cock’s fully hard now, and it’s making a tent in the black sweatpants you put on him before bed. He rubs the oven mitt on his hand against the bulge in the fabric and groans loudly.

“What’re you doin’?” You ask from your place in the chair.

“Come find out, sweetheart.” He sighs, leaning against the wall the mattress is pressed up against.

Joel listens to you limp and shuffle towards him in the dark. Your hands hesitantly touch his shins before you crawl onto the bed with him.

“Take ‘em out f’me, baby girl,” he leans into you now that you’re sitting next to him, pushing his nose into your hair. He inhales deeply and takes in the heady scent of your sweat lingering whatever fucking pheromones that are making him just as insane as you.

“Ya’ really want this?”

Joel wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you as close as he can get. “M’sober this time,” he moan quietly into your ear when you push his mitt covered hand, away and slip your hand underneath the waistband. He bucks his hips up into your fist as you begin to stoke him.

“You’re s’warm,” you sigh, turning your head to face him.

Joel wastes no time catching your lips in a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you, savor your flavor. You taste like whiskey and strawberry jam. The smell of cheap bathroom hand soap lingers on your skin from washing up in the sink. All of it makes him feel like hes intoxicated.

“Fuck, y’feel so good,” he growls into your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip gently as you pull away. “Take these fuckin’ mitts off me—”

Your hand leaves his pants and the warmth of your body is gone from beside him. “It’s a trick?” You sound hurt in the dark, like Joel’s played some terrible prank on you and you just found out.

“No, no, no-” he’s desperate for your touch. It felt so good, and he wasn’t even thinking about trying to trick you or do anything shifty once you took the mitts off, he wanted to grip you and grope you. Plunge two or three fingers right into your wetness. “No, m’not trynna trick you— I just wanna touch you.”

“S’what you said last time,” you snap at him. He can tell you’re still close, probably still on the mattress. He shifts and tries to get closer to you but he hears your skin drag across the concrete floor.

“Shit,” Joel grumbles. “I know, fuck— I know, but I mean it this time-”

“I don’t believe you.”

Of course you don’t believe him! He socked you right in the eye as hard as he could the last time he didn’t have at least 4 inches of padding on his fists.

“I wanna make y’feel real good, the way y’were makin’ me feel real good just then,” he’s inching towards the sound of you dragging yourself across the floor on his hands and knees slowly. The ropes stop him from going any further while you continue your retreat. “C’mon, baby…”

“Y’just sayin’ that, don’t mean it…” The sound of your body shuffling away from him stops though, and he wonders if he’s got you on the hook with the pet names.

Try it again, Mister.

“Please, honey… I wanna hear y’moan Mister’s name,” he coos to you, hiding from him somewhere in the darkness.

You let out a long, slow, shaky breath before you answer. “What is your name…”

He’s so fucking desperate for some sort of relief that he tells you before he can come up with a fake name— he’s learned the hard way about sharing his real name with strange women. “Joel.”

“Joel…” You whisper back to him. “My very own Mister-J?” You sound excited.

“Mister-J?” Joel cocks his head to one side, but is pushed back onto the mattress by the force of you barreling into him.

“That’s what Harley calls the Joker,” your straddling his waist again and without thinking twice, Joel wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him. His forearms brush against the bare skin of your thighs and it makes him groan softly as he pushes you down into his lap.

“Ya' wanna be m'crazy girl? Like Harley Quinn?” Joel chuckles as he nudges his nose against your chin, tilting your head back to expose your neck.

You hesitate, and pull back from him slightly.

“I ain’t gon’ bite you,” he promises, leaning in as much as he can so he can press his lips to the column of your throat.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, sinking into him like you’re melting. “Oh fuck,” it leaves your mouth as a whimper, and Joel’s cock throbs at the sound.

“Like this?” He nips at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder and you shiver in his arms. He can’t hide the smile, he doesn’t care to. He loves that he’s capable of making you make those sounds.

You hum an almost silent ‘mhm’, and wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers through the curls at the nape.

Joel has so much more room to move around now that he’s unrestrained, so he rolls his hips up into yours so you can feel what he has to offer. You gasp and arch your back, pushing yourself further onto him. He moans softly, his mitts trailing down your spine and cupping your ass cheeks as best they can. He can feel the heat between your legs growing and he has a nagging thought in his head.

Lay down, let her climb right on top—

Joel shifts and wiggles down onto the mattress so he’s flat on his back, with you still straddling his hips. “Take your lil shorts off,” Joel taps your thigh, and then lifts his hips so he can shove his sweatpants down his legs.

You don’t ask any questions. You roll off of him and Joel feels your shoulder touch his as you lay down to remove your bottoms. You go to crawl back into his lap but he stops you.

“Sit up here,” he grips your hips as best he can with the mitts, and tugs you up to his face.

“What!?” You sound distressed, “Ya’ want me t’do what?”

“Turn around, and sit down,” Joel growls up at you.

You hesitate, the uncertainty clear in your voice. "I-I don't know..."

"C'mon, darlin'," Joel coaxes, his voice low and husky. "Let me taste you. I promise ‘m gonna make you feel so good."

With shaky movements, you turn around and slowly lower yourself over Joel's face.

He inhales deeply, taking in your scent. "That's it," he murmurs encouragingly. "Just like that." Joel can feel the heat radiating from your core as you hover uncertainly above him. He lifts his head, nuzzling his nose against your inner thigh. "Lil lower," he nips at your supple skin.

With a soft whimper, you finally sink down onto his waiting mouth. Joel groans at the first taste of you, his tongue delving between your folds. Your sweet and tangy, a little sweaty and musky— it’s fucking heady and perfect. He can’t get enough.

“Oh fuck,” you shudder as Joel licks a stripe from your clit to your entrance, which is already dripping and Joel feels pride swell in his chest.

Without Joel having to ask, or prompt you in any way, you lean over and take his hard, aching cock in your hand. Joel nearly comes right there when he hears you spit on it noisily and palm your warm saliva around the throbbing, drooling tip.

“Fuuuuck,” Joel moans approvingly before his tongue pushes into your entrance.

"Oh god, Mister," you whimper, your hand still working his cock in long, slow strokes. Then you kitten lick the tip and he has to stop himself from bucking his hips.

Joel's mind goes blank as your warm, wet mouth envelops the head of his cock. He groans against your pussy, the vibrations making you shudder above him. His tongue laps eagerly at your fold, drinking in your arousal as it flows freely.

You bob your head, taking more of his length with each downward motion. Joel's hips twitch, fighting the urge to thrust up into the heavenly heat of your mouth. Instead, he focuses on pleasuring you, sucking your clit between his lips and flicking it with his tongue.

You whimper around his cock, grinding your hips down onto his face.

Joel pulls back slightly, his breath hot against your core. "That's it, baby girl. Ride my face," he growls before diving back in, his tongue circling your clit.

You pull away, your hand replacing your mouths ministrations and rest your head on Joel’s hip as you stroke him, never faltering on giving him pleasure. “Please d-don’t stop!” You cry out, your grip tightening around his shaft as you rock your hips. Joel's mitt-covered hands grip your thighs, urging you on.

"Gonna cum for me, darlin'?" he murmurs against your slick folds. "Let me taste it."

Joel feels you tense above him, your thighs quivering as you grind down harder on his face. He doubles his efforts, lapping at your clit with quick, firm strokes of his tongue. Your hand on his cock speeds up, pumping him in time with the rocking of your hips.

"Oh god, oh fuck," you whimper, your voice muffled against his hip. "I'm gonna-- I'm--"

Your words dissolve into a high-pitched moan as you come undone. Joel groans as he feels your pussy pulse against his mouth, a fresh wave of your arousal coating his tongue.

Your sounds, the way your hips continue to rock against his mouth as you unravel has his own release bubbling up to the surface. Joel groans deeply as his own orgasm crashes over him, his hips bucking up involuntarily as he spills into your hand. You stroke him through it, milking every last drop as he shudders beneath you.

Joel's whole body twitches as you clean him and your hand with your tongue, "Taste good," you mumble against his stomach, pressing soft kisses to the trail of hair between his cock and belly button.

Then, with shaky movements, you lift yourself off of Joel's face and turn around to face him. Even in the darkness, he can sense your uncertainty.

"C'mere," Joel murmurs, his voice rough. He reaches out, pulling you down to lay beside him. You settle against his chest, your breath warm on his neck.

“Don’t kill me in my sleep, ‘kay?” You sigh, pressing a kiss to his pulse point.

Joel murmurs something incoherent, already on the verge of falling asleep.

Sorry it was like 45 minutes late (two days early if you look at the master list ok?-- I may have had something to drink.... and of course thanks @pedrospookie for that adorable fucking mood board. I hope you all like this chapter-- it's a little domesticated (i think), but I have more crazy, unhinged antics coming next chapter!)

TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22 @baronessvonglitter @joelmillerisapunk @syd-djarin @probablyreadinsmut @itwasntimethatdidit40 @letsgobarbs @lovehappyloki @joelalorian @pedrostories

(omg I think I got everyone but that's so many people, please let me know if I left you off or if you want to be taken out of the tag list!)

[comet-forgot-you]

walk with me here, college popular girl amber + quiet masc-ish reader who she takes an interest in. teasing and flirting and Ummmm maybe reader first kiss and first time with amber being super sweet and teaching reader how to touch her .. In the backseat of a car maybe. yeah i’m going insane

im also going insane thank you!!!!

smut. 18+ pls.

do not repost for any reason.

amber noticing you around campus, never able yo talk to you because she’s always with someone. she wants to talk to you so bad, you had her attention and you didnt even know it. it wasn’t until the second semester that she was able to finally talk to you. she saw you in her psych class, one free chair beside you and she took it despite the row in front of you being completely empty.

she wouldn’t know how to talk to you at first, secretly hoping you would talk to her first, but you don’t. you hardly look at her and it makes her so mad. two weeks into the semester and she finally talks to you.

“hey, i like your shirt.” of course she does, its a stab shirt. you glance down at it, forgetting what shirt you were wearing the moment the compliment falls from her lips.

“thank you,” you reply quietly, a faint blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“you’re cute,” she mumbles, turning her attention to the professor as he begins the lecture.

that cycle continues until amber finally gets your number, and then she’s sending you flirty texts, only to tease you about it later in class. then you surprise her when you make the first move, asking her out on a date.

she agrees almost immediately, saying something along the lines of “ive been waiting for you to ask.” it makes your cheeks heat up as you look away from her.

one date turns into another, the two of you are walking around a park in the middle of the night, asking each other questions. the two of you end up underneath a streetlight and amber stops walking, standing in front of you. she wraps her arms around your neck, head tilting slightly as she looks between your eyes and lips.

“have you ever kissed anyone?” your cheeks flush, you hadn’t, and you were slightly embarrassed about it. you consider lying to her, but something about the way she looks at you has you muttering out the truth.

“no.”

amber smiles, leaning in closer to you. “can i kiss you?” your hands find their place on her hips and you swallow thickly, nodding slightly. she smiles, leaning in to press a kiss against your lips.

her lips are soft, her arms tightening as she pulls you closer into her. your grip on her hips tighten slightly. she pulls away and you cant help but smile. the next day your asking her to be your girlfriend, and she teases you, “i thought i was gonna have to ask.”

weeks later, the two of you are driving around in her car, talking about anything and everything. she pulls into an empty parking lot, telling you how tired she was of driving. you offered to switch with her, but she’s quick to shut it down, you two dont have to drive around.

next thing you know shes leaning over the center console, kissing you like she needs you. and she does. she crawls into your lap, holding your face in her hands as she kisses you hungrily. “need you so bad,” she whispers against your lips. “do you know how hard it is seeing you look so good and having to keep myself from pouncing on you? i need you so bad, baby.” you swallow thickly at her confession.

“i don’t.. i’ve never..”

“i’ll teach you, promise.”

“what if im not good?”

“you’ll never know until your try.” you swallow thickly, amber takes your hand, massaging your palm with her thumb. “do you want to try?”

you nod, “yes,” its a weak answer, but its all amber needs before she’s guiding your hand to her clothed cunt. you cup it and amber rolls her hips against your hand.

she moves to undo her pants but you’re quick to shoo them away, wanting to do it on your own. you slip your hand into her underwear, feeling just how wet she was. you exhale shakily, “fuck.”

amber grabs your wrist, pushing your hand further into her pants. you spread her sticky folds, running your fingers through her wetness. amber hisses. you prod at her entrance and amber’s holding back a whimper that threatens to escape.

“use one at first,” she whispers. you do as she says, pushing one finger into her cunt. your movements are slow as you pump in and out of her. you curl your finger and amber lets out a moan. “another.” you sink another finger into her cunt, slowly pumping in and out of her. “good girl,” she whispers.

you shudder at the praise, you bury your head into her neck, nipping at the skin. her grip on your wrist tightens as your palm grazes her puffy clit. “faster.”

you pick up your pace, curling your fingers every few strokes, amber moans. “like that?” you whisper out, searching for her approval. amber hisses, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth.

“fuck,” she breathes out, “yeah, yes. just like that, baby.” she rolls her hips against your palm, giving her clit the much needed attention. “doing so good, fuck,” she moans out.

her walls squeeze your fingers, is that a good thing? you ignore it, picking your pace up slightly. the sudden change has amber moaning loudly, “fuck!” it takes you by surprise, you pull away from her neck to watch her every reaction. her bottom lip is taken between her lips, you bring your free hand up to tug it out of it’s confines.

her cheeks are flushed, her tongue darts across her lips to wet them. you curl your fingers and amber’s moaning again, head falling back slightly. “yeah, just like that, baby. don’t stop, please,” she begs, her orgasm so close.

when she cums, her head falls against your own, your hot breaths mixing with each other. “fuck, you sure that was your first time? you did so good, baby,” she mumbles, her hips still rolling against your palm.

“thank you,” you mumble out and amber laughs, your cheeks flushing.

“you’re welcome.”

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

Chat, I regret to inform you that I have added a new hyperfixation…so…

Agatha All Along Incorrect Quotes!

Alice: Hold the fuck up.

Also Alice, crawling into Lilia’s lap: It’s me. I’m the fuck up. Hold me.

Rio: I have an idea!

Jen: No murder.

Rio, sighing petulantly: I no longer have an idea.

Lilia: I have a bad feeling about this…

Agatha: What do you mean?

Alice: Don’t you ever get that little voice in the back of your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble?

Agatha: No.

Jen: That actually explains so much.

Lilia: As far back as I can remember, I’ve always had this little voice in my head telling me to “live it up today, because there’s not gonna be a lot of tomorrows”.

Agatha: You do realize there’s medication designed to get rid of those kinds of voices, right?

Teen: A bird flew in through my window and I’m trying to befriend it.

*later*

Agatha: Why don’t you quit bothering me and go talk to your bird friend?

Teen: Matthew and I are not speaking at the moment.

*the coven, huddling together behind a makeshift shelter to shield themselves from repeated gunshots*

Alice, hastily shoving the others behind her so she can return fire: Agatha, do you have any idea who would want to shoot you?!

Agatha, squashed between Jen and Rio: Many people want to shoot me. I take great pride in that!

Jen, glaring at the group as she hands over bail money:

Alice, tapping her shoulder: What about Teen?

Jen, glaring more: I’ve got to bail him out too? Where’s Agatha?

Teen: No one called her. We used Lilia’s phone call to call Alice and Rio’s to call you. Then Rio used my phone call to vote for American Idol.

Rio: :)

Jen: Rio isn’t answering her phone.

Agatha: Here, I’ll try.

Jen: Alice and I have tried six times each, what makes you think that-

Rio, picking up on the first ring: Hey, sweetheart.

Agatha: The ends always justify the means!

Jen: Do you know who said that?

Agatha: Was it Oprah or someone nice and great like that?

Jen: It was Machiavelli. A decidedly non-Oprah like person.

Jen: I bet you didn’t even finish the thing I asked you to get done!

Agatha: For your information, I most certainly did! Got it done last night!

Teen, whispering to Agatha: You didn’t get it done, did you?

Agatha, whispering back: I don’t even know what she’s talking about.

Lilia: I am at a loss for words!

Teen, glancing at the camera like his mom like he’s on The Office: Despite being lost for words, Lilia yelled at us for the next 45 minutes.

Agatha, carrying Señor Scratchy out of the room:

Señor Scratchy: *snuggles under her chin*

Agatha, kissing his head: You are being punished. Please stop being adorable. I love you.

Teen: I got a trampoline tent for summer sleepovers!

Jen, whispering to the other adult witches: …think of all the sex.

Alice: There are two types of people.

Rio: If you wanted to eat someone, you could put a fire under it and slowly roast them :)

Lilia: …three. Three types of people.

Jen, cautiously: I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before, but…Teen, you are a little crazy.

Teen: Aren’t we all a little crazy here, Jen?

Jen: No, I mean you’re aging-ballerina, child-chess-prodigy, professional magician kind of crazy.

Teen: It’s my mom’s fault. You know, we come from a Jewish family, but she used to tell me the reason Santa didn’t come was because my room was too dirty.

Rio: I’ve come looking for trouble. And if I can’t find trouble, I WILL create some.

Alice: Do you trust me?

Lilia, smiling proudly at her: Yes.

Alice, who has been completely panicking: Wait, what? Why?!

Agatha, awkwardly glancing around for help: Er…Alice, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know what to say to people who are crying. So I’m just gonna hope that the tone of my voice makes you think I do, okay, sweetie?

Alice, sniffling: …thanks, Agatha.

Agatha, patting her on the back with a bit too much enthusiasm: No problem, kid.

Lilia: I told Agatha about it weeks ago!

Teen: She WHAT?

Agatha: What??? Lilia says insane shit all the time, how was I supposed to know this one was true?!

Lilia: Bank accounts are a sham created by the shadow government!

Agatha: SEE?!

BONUS:

Wanda, watching from the afterlife: so…when exactly do kids grow out of that whole emo, rebellious stage?

Lorna, shrugging: I don’t know. Alice is still in it.

[bluewxrld07]

Stuck (Luke Hughes)

Warning(s): none

Luke Hughes x female!reader

Summary: In which you do the famous Tik Tok trend, telling your boyfriend your tampon is stuck

It was a nicer evening in Jersey, the weather finally being decent after being knocked over by the crazy below zero insanity. Y/n was finishing up her skincare waiting for Luke and Jack to get back to the apartment from an evening practice, a plan in motion to prank Luke.

It had become a thing between the couple to prank one another after a night post a game, when Luke decided to bring home squid thrown on the ice by a fan.

Leaving it in the fridge for y/n to only yell out a scream at the rotting sea creature the next morning, trying to get her coffee before her workout.

She had been doing her digging for this next prank, knowing it was time for her to hit him with one. This one was more so a test too. A loyalty test if you will. Thanks to Tik Tok of course.

One afternoon, y/n was scrolling through her for you page, only to stumble upon a prank a girlfriend did to her boyfriend. A tampon prank. She immediately grinned ear to ear, knowing that this little test would get Luke to cave.

It had to at least. Especially sine she was actually on her time of the month. It would be more believable.

So after finishing her skincare, hearing the front door open, she set her phone up in a way where it wouldn't look suspicious or seen easily by the curly-headed boy.

"May the pranks be ever in your favor, Hughesy," she chuckles quietly to the phone, hearing her name being called out.

"Babe?" he calls out, his footsteps being heard down the hallway.

She could hear the brothers saying goodnight to one another, his bedroom door opening. "Baby, you good?" she hears on the other side of the door, the girl trying to hide her amused smile before answering.

"I uh," she says slowly. "Luke?" she says, biting her lip to hide her laugh.

"What's going on?" he asks, the girl opening the door. He scans her figure, a confused frown on his face. Y/n crosses her arms, looking up at him.

"I need you to take me seriously when I tell you this, okay?" she said, watching an eyebrow of his raise.

"Why?" he trails off slowly, then his eyes widen. "Are you pregnant, y/n?"

She rolls her eyes and palms her forehead. "No, babe, I'm on my period remember?"

"Oh shit right. Then why are you acting funny?"

"You swear you won't laugh at me?"

"Promise you I won't."

Y/n sighs, hiding her face in her hands for a second as they stood there. "I was trying to change my, you know, out," she starts off, her eyes looking up at to his.

"And I can't find the string." she says, watching his face turn contort into a frown. "What string?"

"Luke my tampon is stuck."

His eyes widen, eyebrows raise, mouth dropping slightly. "What do you mean it's stuck? Where's the little string attached to it?" he whispers in shock, running his hand over his mouth.

Y/n looks at him with a look. "Luke I just said I can't find it. It's really stuck, like I can't get it out." she says, watching his face contort to different emotions.

"So what're you going do? How're you gonna get it out?" he asks, gesturing to her lower abdomen, one hand on his hip.

She gives him a sheepish smile, watching the confusion turn to horror. "Luke," she trails off. "I need you to try and help get it out."

Luke freezes, his eyes looking back into hers, then darting down to her abdomen, then back to her eyes slowly. "Get the thing out? The thing inside you?" he asks, and she nods with a hum.

"Lu, it's really stuck. I really cannot get it out." she says in a horrified voice. He hums, staying frozen in his position.

"Do you think you can get it out?" she asks.

"Uh huh," he says softly with a nod, his horrified eyes looking into hers.

"Really? You'd help me even if it's all bloody?" she says, watching him put a hand over his mouth and nod once again. "Yeah, yup, sure would." he stutters out.

Luke runs a hand over his face, walking away from the doorway for a second, only to come back without his sweatshirt on, only clad in his t-shirt that was underneath.

"Alright baby, let's get this going," he says while shaking his arms out as if he was about to go lift something heavy. He turns on his flashlight from his phone, making his way towards her.

She immediately puts a hand on his chest, bursting into a fit of giggles. He looks at her with a frown, raising his hands up in the air. "What? I'm gonna help you get this thing out, aren't I?"

"Babe, it was a prank." she laughs, pointing to her phone. He immediately looks over at the camera, rolls his eyes, mumbles an oh thank fuck, walking out of the bathroom.

Y/n rolls her eyes at his dramatic response. "Oh stop, you loved me enough to be willing to help get it out."

He turns around to look at her and point. "Not loved. Love. watch your grammar." he retorts, walking up to her once again.

"Okay mister tough guy. But glad to know you love me enough to help me. Even if it's all messy." she chuckles, pressing a couple chaste kisses to his lips.

"Now hurry to bed, I need a good sleep tonight. I almost would've had nightmares for days." Luke jokes.

Y/n scoffs playfully. "I need to go to the bathroom actually, and then I'll be out so calm down." she says, shutting the door softly.

Luke settles into him and y/n's bed, sighing at the comfort. Smiling at his girlfriend's antics, then shaking his head. His eyes found the nightstand next to his bed, a certain velvet box hiding in the corner of the drawer.

"Lu, we actually have a real problem on our hands," Y/n calls out a few moments later. The boy closing his eyes. "And what is that?" he asks.

"It's stuck. Like for real this time."

[lee-laurent]

All Wrong - Luke Hughes

Summary: Jack needs some help from Sadie, but Sadie finds another Hughes brother much more interesting.

content: fluff, angst, fake dating, kissing, making out, teasing, dirty jokes, underage drinking

wc: 11.6k

notes: HERE IT IS! MY LONGEST FIC EVER!!!! enjoy!!

"Sadie, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me. It's just for the summer so she leaves me alone," Jack pleaded from his spot on the girl's couch.

"Just tell her you're not interested or that you have a girlfriend. This seems overboard."

"That won't stop her. Trust me."

"Then why would me being there change that?"

"You're intimidating, Sadie. You'll look at her once and she'll run home like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs."

"Jack..."

"Sadie, please! Didn't you say your parents had been on your ass about having a boyfriend? See this could benefit both of us."

"I-"

"Sadie!" Jack's tone had shifted from being teasing to almost desperate. "You don't get it! This girl... she doesn't take 'no' for an answer. Trust me... I've tried."

Sadie crossed her arms over her chest, settling further into the couch. "So your brilliant plan involves be pretending to be madly in love with you instead? Egotistical much."

"Shut up. If you're there, she'll see we're serious and she'll back off."

"And you don't think this is going to backfire? Or, I don't know, create a whole mess of awkwardness between us?" Sadie tilted her head, waiting for his response.

"It'll be fine. We're friends, right? We've kissed when we were drunk. We can handle a little fake dating for a few weeks. Plus, the thing with your parents... win-win?"

She sighed, feeling like she was fighting a battle she was gonna lose no matter what. She had mentioned it in passing--how her parents were always asking why she wasn't dating anyone. But this? Fake dating Jack? It sounded like the plot of a rom-com gone wrong.

"I don't know, Jack."

"Look, we'll just keep it simple. I won't make it weird, I promise. We'll hang at the lake house, do the whole 'couple' thing, and by the end of the summer, it's done. You're free. I'm free. And maybe we can get a few laughs out of it."

It sounded insane. Jack was her friend--her close friend--and she could see in his eyes how desperately he wanted her to say yes.

"You really think this will work?"

"Trust me. She'll be running away by the end of the first week."

With a heavy sigh, she finally nodded. "Fine. I'll do it. But you owe me."

"Deal! I owe you big time! But you won't regret this, Sades. It's going to be great!"

She wasn't so sure. It felt so much more complicated than Jack was letting on.

~~

A couple weeks later, Sadie found herself standing on the driveway of the Hughes' lake house. She was standing next to Jack, picking at the chipped nail polish on her fingers. She genuinely felt like she could puke.

"Relax, Sadie," Jack grinned, holding their suitcases. "It's gonna be great."

She narrowed her eyes, but didn't respond. His grin didn't falter, and he motioned with his head for her to walk toward the house. The second her foot hit the first step, the door flew open and Ellen came out with a smile on her face. A smile scarily similar to Jack's.

"You must be Sadie! It's so nice to meet you," she said warmly, wrapping the 21-year-old in a tight hug.

"Oh, uh, yeah. That's me," Sadie stammered, trying to return the hug without looking too awkward. It was one thing to pretend around Jack and whoever this scary neighbour girl was, but in front of his family was a whole other can of worms. It felt so much more real.

"We're so excited to have you here! Jack never stops talking about you."

"Doesn't he?" Sadie smirked, turning around to glance at her 'boyfriend' who was pretending he couldn't hear the conversation.

Before she could ask anymore, Ellen was leading her into the home with a hand on her back. "Come in! I'm just finishing getting dinner ready, and the rest of the family should be here soon. Quinn and Jim were picking Luke up from school, so the three of them will be here around 9."

"Moose's coming?" Jack piped up, dropping their bags on the floor. "I thought he wasn't gonna make it this year."

"Changed his mind last minute. We'll all be together," Ellen grinned, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"I'm gonna show Sadie around upstairs, we'll be back down for dinner in like ten minutes."

"Sounds good. I left some fresh towels for you on Jack's bed."

"Oh. Thank you."

"No worries. You two go get settled."

Sadie followed Jack up the creaky wooden stairs, her mind still spinning from meeting Ellen. Everything about the situation felt real. Too real. Way, way too real.

"Your mom is... intense," she muttered, walking into the hallway as Jack pushed open the door to the room they'd be sharing for the summer.

"Yeah, well, that's Mom for you. She loves you already," Jack grinned, throwing himself onto the bed. He stretched out, folding his arms behind his head as if he was relaxed as ever. Like they weren't lying to his entire family.

Sadie sat awkwardly on the foot of the bed, scanning the room. It was cozy. A few posters on the walls, hockey-themed of course, and an old wooden dresser in the corner. The window overlooked the lake and Sadie thought she could fall in love with the idea of living here for the summer pretty quickly.

"So, we're sharing this bed, I take it?" she raised an eyebrow.

Jack chuckled, patting the matress next to him. "Come on, Sades. We're dating, remember? Gotta sell it."

She rolled her eyes, scooting up to sit next to Jack. "Just remember this is fake. No funny business, Hughes."

"I know, I know. Jeez. I already told you, I'm not gonna make it weird. Just for the summer. Then we're free."

She shook her head, already regretting everything. She had agreed to the plan, but now that she was there, standing in their home, sharing a bed--it all felt too close for comfort.

"Speaking of Luke. You didn't mention that your brothers were gonna be here."

"They're chill. Don't stress. Moose has been busy with shit at Umich and Quinn in Vancouver. They'll just be happy to relax. Plus, they don't usually care about talking girls and stuff. So they won't grill you. If anything, they'll give me shit for dating someone so out of my league."

"I'll believe it when I see it, Jack."

Jack snickered, standing up and walking over to the side of the bed she was on. He leaned down, his tone teasing. "Come on, Sades. Let's go down and eat dinner like a happy couple."

"You're so fucking annoying."

~~

Dinner went surprisingly smoothly. Ellen had a special way of making everything seem casual and lighthearted. Jack, of course, had been his usual... charming self, playing the role of the perfect doting boyfriend. He was good at it, touching her back lightly, pulling her chair out for her, and even dropping the occasional kiss on the top of her head.

It should've made her cringe, but instead she found it... comforting?

Ellen had asked the usual 'parent' questions--how they met, what Sadie was studying, if she liked hockey (which of course she had to answer yes to, knowing full well the consequences of not liking hockey in the Hughes household). Sadie played along, forcing herself to laugh at Jack's shit jokes and add details to the story they'd created on the drive up.

"Jack, why don't you take Sadie down to the dock and watch the sunset over the lake" Ellen suggested, clearing the table of plates. "It's beautiful tonight."

"Good idea, Mom," Jack agreed, standing up and taking Sadie's hand with a grin.

"Sure, sounds nice," Sadie forced a smile, trying not to feel awkward holding Jack's hand in front of his mother.

They walked out towards the dock, the cool air helping lift the weight of the day away. The lake stretched out before them, the water reflecting the orange and pink hues of the sunset. Sadie loved scenes like that. They brought her so much peace.

"You're doing great, by the way, Sadie."

She snorted, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I feel like I'm in some weird improv exercise. Just waiting for someone to figure out I don't belong here."

"They're not going to figure anything out," he whispered. "You've got this."

Lying to his family felt wrong, even if it was supposed to be for a good cause. Or at least a cause that Jack thought was good.

"This is going to be a very draining summer," she sighed.

"You wanna go to bed?"

"No, I need to stay up and meet your brothers and your dad."

"They'll still be here in the morning, Sades. If you want to go to sleep, nobody is gonna stop you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, come on. Let's get you some sleep."

~~

"Who's shoes are those?" Luke asked, closing the front door behind him.

"Jack's girlfriend's! You just missed her, she went to sleep about half an hour ago," Ellen smiled, pulling her youngest son into a hug.

"His girlfriend?"

"Yes! Sadie is her name. Such a nice girl. Very pretty too."

Luke looked back down at the shoes again, his mind still trying to catch up with what his mom was saying. Jack's girlfriend? The words felt so unfamiliar. Jack didn't talk about dating much, at least not in a serious way, so hearing about Sadie--a girl he apparently cared enough about to bring home--caught him so off guard.

"Yeah. Jack didn't mention much about her."

"He didn't? Oh, well, you'll meet her in the morning," she reached up to ruffle his hair, like he was still a little kid playing chase around the house with his brothers. "She's lovely. A little shy at first, but I'll sure she'll warm up to everyone. Probably just worried about making a good first impression."

Luke nodded, but inside his curiousity was growing. Shy? He hadn't heard Jack describe anyone as shy in, well, ever. Jack's type was the total opposite--bold, confident, the kind of girl that could hang with his rowdy ass friends without missing a beat. This Sadie girl was starting to sound a lot different than that.

"Well, let's get you boys fed before we all call it a night," Jim said, patting Luke's shoulder as he passed. "Your mom saved us some leftovers from dinner."

Luke followed his dad and Quinn into the kitchen, but his thoughts were still on the mysterious girl that had apparently stolen his brother's heart. Jack had never even mentioned a Sadie before and suddenly she was at the lake house. It all felt off.

~~

Sadie woke up feeling as sweaty as ever. The house had AC but Jack was like a personal heater and somehow they'd ended up spooning at some point in the night. There was a thin layer of sweat between her back and Jack's chest and she felt disgusting.

Groaning quietly, she pulled herself out of his grip, using her shirt to wipe her back. Jack was still fast asleep, the duvet kicked around his feet. Typical. Jack could sleep through a fucking earthquake.

She swung her legs out of bed and padded to the bathroom, hoping a splash of cold water would make her feel more like herself. She thought about what Jack had said last night--about how nobody would figure them out. But staring at herself in the mirror, she felt like it was written all over her face.

She didn't belong here.

She threw on the first clothes she could find, a pair of jean shorts and one of Jack's many Devils t-shirts. By the time she made her way downstairs, the kitchen was already bustling. Ellen was preparing breakfast while Jim sat at the table sipping a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Sadie! Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, thanks," she forced a smile.

"Jack still asleep?"

"Out cold."

Ellen chuckled, shaking her head. "Sounds about right."

Sadie smiled, but before she could respond, the sound of footsteps behind her caught her attention. She turned just as Luke appeared in the doorway, fresh from a morning run, judging the sweat on his forehead and the way his grey shirt clung to his torso.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Luke's eyes landed on her, sharp and curious. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel like he was sizing her up--not in a rude way, but in a way that made her stomach flip uncomfortably.

"You must be Sadie," he made his way further into the kitchen. "I'm Luke."

"Yeah," she extended her hand to him. "Nice to meet you."

Luke shook her head, his grip firm but brief. His blue eyes lingered on hers for a second longer than she expected before he pulled away, glancing towards the coffeemaker.

"You're the one who got Jack all domestic?" he teased, grabbing a mug. "Didn't see that coming."

She laughed softly, "I don't know about 'domestic,' but... I guess I'm the one who convinced him to bring me here."

Luke smirked, like he wasn't entirely buying it. "Yeah. I guess."

Sadie got cut off again, but this time by Quinn entering the room. "Ah, so this is the famous Sadie! Nice to finally put a face to the name."

Thank God for Quinn.

~~

Sadie sat on the dock, her feet dangling over the water, her book open on her lap. Jack and Quinn had gone to get the boat from the marina and Sadie had taken the opportunity to relax a bit.

She had laid a towel under her, Jack's t-shirt removed because she was not about to get a farmer's tan. She was basking in the sun, feeling the gentle warmth of the sun on her extremely pale skin. The world around her disappearing as she flipped through the novel. She was really enjoying it until she came to a parapgraph about suspicion. It took her right back to her interaction with Luke that morning. It was like he saw right through her, could sense all the cracks in her story. She had to be careful, maybe Luke was smarter than he seemed.

But footsteps on the dock behind her broke her train of thought. She glanced over her should, expecting to see that either Jack or Quinn had returned with the car from the marina, but it was Luke. He wasn't in the workout clothes he'd been wearing earlier, now dressed in a white t-shirt and board shorts, clearly ready for a swim.

"You mind if I join?" Luke asked, the same playful charm in his voice that Jack carried.

"Sure, it's your family's dock after all."

Luke smirked, dropping a towel beside her before sitting down, his legs also hanging over the water. He didn't say anything for awhile, just stared out over the water. Sadie went back to reading, well now she was pretending to read, her main focus being on how closely he was sitting next to her.

"So," he broke the silence. "How'd you and Jack meet?"

There it was--more lying about her and Jack. Sadie knew Luke was already suspicious of her, so she had to play her cards right. She looked up from her book, trying to keep her body language calm. "Friends. Some of his, uh, his friends go to school with me. So..."

"Friends, huh?" He was testing her, waiting for her to trip up.

"Yeah, like slow burn," she shrugged. "We hung out with a big group of friends first. You know how it goes."

Luke was silent for a moment, staring down at the waves lapping the dock. "Yeah, I guess, I do. Jack's never mentioned you before."

Sadie felt her stomach lurch, but she forced a smile. "Well, we kept things on the down-low for a while. Just us. It's still... kinda new."

"Makes sense," Luke's tone made it clear he wasn't entirely convinced. He shifted, resting his elbows on his knees, staring out at the lake again. "Just seems strange, I guess. Jack never brings girls here. And then... suddenly, you."

"I guess I'm just lucky," she swallowed harshly.

For a moment, she thought he might say something else--might press her further--but instead, he stood up and grabbed his towel.

"I'll leave you to it. Nice talking, Sadie," he walked off, completely disregarding the fact that he had clearly come out to swim. She just watched him retreat. It was clear he didn't trust her, hopefully Jack could fix that. She didn't need him figuring anything out before the trip was over. That was certain.

~~

The sound of the boat engine humming across the water was the perfect background noise on a sunny afternoon. Sadie sat on the edge, occasionally letting her fingers trail through the lake below. Jack was steering them out to the centre of the water, Quinn sat up front basking in the sun, and Luke leaned casually against the small railing on the side.

"You ever driven one of these?" Luke asked, nodding towards the steering wheel.

Sadie looked over to Jack, who was too busy concentrating on his driving to respond. She smirked, "Jack never lets anyone take the wheel. He likes to be in control."

Quinn laughed, "Sounds about right. Captain Jack, over here. Watch out Sadie or he might start asking you to call him that."

"Don't give him any ideas," she groaned, flicking her gaze back to Jack. She really hoped that the banter seemed real and not forced.

"You love it, Sades! You're just mad because you can't even drive a car for shit."

"Hey! You've never given me a chance on a boat," she shot back, standing up and making her way to Jack.

"I think I have a good reason."

Sadie placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in closer as she laughed. It felt so strange to have to be so physically close to Jack on purpose, but she was learning to fake it well. "Maybe I'll surprise you one day."

Quinn chuckled, "Honestly, Rowdy, give her a shot. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She crashes into the dock?" Jack raised an eyebrow, still smirking, one of his hands casually finding it's way around Sadie's bare waist. She stiffened slightly at first, but relaxed quickly after reminding herself to play the part.

"I'm more worried about you crashing into the dock," Sadie shot back.

Luke, who had been silently observing the whole ordeal, cracked a grin. "She's probably better at steering than you think, Jack. You're just a control freak."

Sadie stole a glance, glad to see Luke was no longer sending any weird looks her way.

"Alright, fine," Jack sighed, turning the wheel just slightly to change course. "Maybe I'll let you drive next time. If you're lucky."

Quinn snorted, "If she's lucky? You mean if she gives you head?"

Sadie's jaw dropped, but all three Hughes brothers started laughing like it was the funniest joke she'd ever heard. God, she'd never understand men.

~~

The boat had been anchored and Sadie sat with Jack near the edge. Luke and Quinn were busy talking about who could pull off a better dive, leaving the 'couple' alone.

Sadie lowered her voice, looking around to see if the other boys were listening. "Jack, I think Luke is catching on."

"Catching on? What're you talking about?"

Sadie sighed. "Earlier today, he was asking me all these questions. It felt like he was suspicious. Like he knows this whole thing is all an act."

Jack chuckled, knocking his shoulder with hers. "Sades, he's just messing with you. Trust me, he's not suspicious of anything. That's just how he is. He's probably giving you a hard time because he knows it'll get under your skin."

She bit her lip, not fully convinced. "I don't know... I don't want him to say something to your parents or--"

"Relax," he softly grabbed her hand. "It's going fine. They all like you, and no one is doubting anything. Promise."

Sadie looked around again, but Quinn and Luke were now splashing each other in the water. "I guess you're right. I'm probably just overthinking shit."

"Exactly. Now, where's the Sadie I know? I'm not a fan of this anxious, worrywart. Where's the flirty, confident, almost scary Sadie that I became friends with?"

She just shook her head, a real smile making its way across her face. Jack leaned back, stretching his arms behind him. "Come on, Sades. Let's make the most of this. Summer is supposed to be funnnn."

"Okay," she giggled. "Let's have some fun."

She quickly stood up and cannon-balled into the lake. Luke and Quinn cheered her on, as Jack shook his head and laughed. "There's my girl!"

~~

Sadie, Jack, Luke, and Quinn sat on deck chairs around the firepit, drinks in hand. It had been a long day spent out on the water, but the fun wasn't over just yet. The laughter was now coming even easier than before with the addition of alcohol.

Sadie leaned heavily into Jack's side, his arm draped over her shoulders, her head resting on him. She finally felt like herself, carefree. Jack's closeness didn't feel awkward anymore; it felt natural, or maybe that was just the alcohol.

"Alright, Sadie," Quinn said, his speech slurred slightly. "I gotta know what it's like dating Jack? He's gotta be a pain in the ass."

"Oh, you have no idea," she teased. "He thinks he's funny. Most of the time, he's just annoying."

Jack gasped dramatically, clutching his chest with his free hand. "Wow. You wound me, Sades. I'm hilarious."

"Debatable," she quipped, running her fingers along the seam of his shirt as she settled against him more comfortably.

"Okay, but for real," Luke piped up, "how'd you two even get together? I don't think Jack has ever brought a girl here."

She glanced at Jack, who winked at her before answering.

"It just happened, I guess. We were hanging out with a group of friends, like I told you guys, and then one day... I just knew she was the one for me."

"Oh, you knew, huh? That's not how I remember it," Sadie giggled.

"What's your version, Sadie?" Luke raised an eyebrow.

"Well... Jack was chasing after me for months, trying to get me to go out with him. I was playing hard to get."

Jack cackled, "That's not how it went."

"It's exactly how it went," she shot back, her voice full of confidence. "He practically begged me to go on a date with him."

Luke and Quinn were in stitches, the banter between her and Jack clearly entertaining them. Sadie felt so much more like herself. The earlier tension she felt from Luke's questions had melted away with the first sip of vodka.

Just as Sadie was about to make another joke at Jack's expense, the sound of footsteps cruncing against gravel caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder to see a figure making their toward them. Sadie tensed.

It had to be that neighbour girl that Jack had warned her about. The whole reason this shit was happening.

The girl strutted up to the firepit, her eyes locking on Jack like he was the only person there. She didn't even acknowledge Sadie's presence, instead giving Jack a flirtatious smile as she drew closer.

"Well, well," her tone was sugary sweet. "Didn't know you were back in town, Jack."

Sadie felt Jack also tense beside her, but he didn't move his arm from her shoulders. He smiled politely, but there was no mistaking the discomfort in his eyes. "Yes, Natalie, we're here every summer."

The girl, Natalie, flicked her bleach blonde hair over her shoulder. "It's been a while. You should come over sometime. We could... catch up."

Sadie could tell from the girl's body language that she wasn't taking no for an answer. Natalie's obvious attempt to flirt with Jack was so blatant, it was almost laughable. It would've been laughable if it wasn't so goddamn irritating.

Luke and Quinn exchanged amused glances.

Sadie straightened up, pushing her body closer to Jack's. "He's a little busy right now," Sadie's voice was low but firm.

"Oh, I'm sure Jack can make time. Can't you, Jacky?"

Sadie's blood boiled. Natalie wasn't getting the message. She glanced at Jack, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, then made a quick decision. Without hesitation, Sadie reached up, grabbed Jack's face in both hands, and pulled him into a kiss. Not a soft, delicate one, but a full-on, heated make out session that left no room for misinterpretation. She was making sure that everyone knew who Jack belonged to.

Jack responded immediately, his hands moving to rest on her waist as he kicked her back, clearly caught up in the moment. It was all part of the act, but Sadie could feel the passion in it, the alcohol blurring the line between fake and real.

When she pulled away, breathless and bright red, she didn't even look at Jack. She instead kept her gaze locked on Natalie, who was staring at them in stunned silence.

"Like I said," Sadie's voice was full of cool confidence, "he's busy."

Natalie's face twisted into a scowl, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She shot Jack and Sadie one last frustrated look before scoffing and turning on her heel, storming off into the night like a child throwing a tantrum.

Quinn let out a low whistle. "Damn, Sadie. Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"That was brutal," Luke agreed.

She shrugged, playing it off like it was nothing, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. "She wasn't getting it. Had to make it clear."

Jack, still recovering from the intensity of the kiss, grinned down at her. "You sure did."

~~

The room spun slightly as Sadie fumbled with the zipper on her shorts, still giggling about how the night had unfolded. Jack leaned against the door, watching her with a lazy grin, the alcohol still buzzing in his system.

"That kiss though," Jack teased, his voice slurred as he kicked off his shoes. "You really sold it, Sades. I think you scared Natalie away for life."

"Good," she smirked, peeling off her shorts and tossing them aside, not bothering with modesty. She started tugging her t-shirt over her head. "She wasn't getting the hint. Had to go for the kill."

Jack's eyes flickered to her as she changed, the casualness of it all catching him off guard. He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry as he tried not to stare. Sadie, half-naked, standing there like it was nothing--it was making his head spin even more than it already was.

He blinked, knowing he shouldn't have been distracted like that, especially when they were just playing pretend. But Sadie didn't seem to notice nor care. She was sat on the bed, running her hands through her hair, her laughter replaced by a serious expression.

"Jack. I was actually really nervous... earlier. With meeting your parents, then Luke asking all those questions, and then fucking Natalie showed up."

Jack shook off his drunken haze. He sat down beside her, trying to focus on her words and the fact that her skin was glowing under the light in the room. "Nervous? You seemed to have it under control out there."

"I was faking. Well, partly. Thought maybe Luke's questions about us were to find holes or that Quinn was part of his plan."

"Sades, I'm not sure how many times I have to tell you. Nobody is suspicious."

"I just didn't want to mess this up for you. The whole fake dating thing--it's for you, and I didn't want to fuck it all up by being... weird."

"You weren't weird. You were amazing. And that kiss? I think you might have convinced me we're really dating."

"So... no one's doubting?"

Jack shook his head, his hand brushing gently against her back. "Nope. That kiss probably wiped away any doubts that Quinn or Luke might've had. You sold it. Hell, I think Luke might've been jealous."

She smirked at the thought, "Yeah? Jealous, huh?"

Jack grinned, leaning his forehead against hers. "Definitely. You've got nothing to worry about now. We've got this."

There was a quiet moment between them. The alcohol buzz still hanging in the air, but it was softer now, replaced by something warmer, more intimate. Jack's hand slid up to her shoulder, his touch gentle as he pulled her closer.

"I'm really glad you're here."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. "Me too."

They lay back on the bed, neither bothering to change further. Jack's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his side as she snuggled against him. The steady rise and fall of Jack's chest beneath her cheek, lulling her to sleep.

~~

Jack and Quinn were gone for the day, some sort of offseason training session by some bigshot NHL personal trainer. The guy hadn't invited Luke, so he was stuck at the house with Sadie and his parents.

Sadie was stretched out on a towel in the backyard, basking in the sunshine, her earbuds playing some soft country music. She was enjoying her peaceful solitude.

Or so she thought.

When she turned her head slightly to adjust her sunglasses, she caught a glimpse of Luke standing on the back porch. He was leaning against the railing, looking right at her. His eyes flickered away as soon as she spotted him, but it was too late. Sadie had seen him staring.

A mischievous grin tugged at her lips.

Caught you.

Deciding to have a little fun with it, Sadie flipped onto her front, resting her chin on her folded arms. Then, with a playful smirk, she reached behind her and undid the knot on her bikini top, letting it fall loose against the towel beneath her. Luke couldn't actually see shit, but she thought it was hilarious to tease him.

After a few beats of silence, Sadie couldn't help but sneak a peek in his direction. Luke was still on the porch, but his posture was tense, clearly flustered. His eyes darted between her and the lake, like he wasn't sure where to look.

She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. Oh, this is too good.

Satisfied with the teasing, she casually rolled back onto her back and retyed her top like nothing had happened. Then she stood up, grabbing her book and towel, she sauntered back inside with a smirk tugging at her lips. She didn't need to look back to know there were still a set of blue eyes staring at her.

~~

Luke wandered into the living room, hesitating briefly at the door before walking to Sadie on the couch. His hair was still slightly damp from a dip in the lake, and he seemed almost more relaxed without Jack and Quinn there.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?"

"Go for it," she replied, looking up from her book. She shifted over to make space for him.

Luke sat down and stretched his legs out in front of him as he leaned back in an attempt to look casual. It didn't work and Sadie could still feel the tension in the air. She knew Luke was flustered about the whole backyard situation and she found it fucking hilarious.

"You're always reading," he remarked, nodding towards the book in her hands. "What is it this time?"

She raised an eyebrow and flipped the book around so he could see the cover. "I'm not 'always' reading. You've caught me reading twice. And it's just something to kill time. You know, since your brother is off pretending he's a celebrity."

"Yeah, Jack's like that. Always pretending he's the best," Luke chose to ignore her remark about him only seeing her reading twice.

"Must've been annoying growing up with him," Sadie teased.

"Oh, it was. But he's alright. Could've been worse."

The conversation continued easily from there, their voices filling the silent house with stories about their childhoods, embarrassing moments, and life in general. Luke found himself relaxing more and more as Sadie talked. She was sharp, funny, and this special energy that drew him in. The confident, teasing girl from the backyard was showing her soft side and he could see why Jack was head over heels in love with her,

Sadie yapped about her life in university, the friends she had back home in Jersey, and even some wild stories from a girls' trip to New York. Luke listened, hanging off of every word. She was cool, and not in a superficial way, but genuinely cool. She wasn't just Jack's girlfriend. She was Sadie. And she was amazing.

But with that realization came guilt.

He watched her laugh as she told a funny story, and Luke felt the pull growing inside him. He was really starting to like her. Maybe too much.

This was Jack's girlfriend. He shouldn't feel that way about Jack's girlfriend.

He knew it was wrong, but he made no effort to distance himself from her. Instead, he found himself drawn to her more and more, wanting to sit there with her, to hear her laugh again, to see the smirk that covered her face when she teased him.

"So, how about you?" she asked, snapping him from this thoughts. "What's it like being the baby? Bet Jack gave you hell."

"They both did. But especially Jack. He never, ever let me forget I was the youngest. Always had to one-up me."

"Sounds like Jack," she grinned, and Luke's smile faltered at the lovestruck look on her face at the meer mention of Jack. "Bet you're giving it right back now."

"I try." There was a brief lull in conversation and the silence that followed felt like it was charged with electricity.

Sadie held his gaze a beat longer than she should have before breaking the eye contact with a playful smile. "Well, if you ever need any tips on how to outsmart Jack, I've got plenty."

"I might just have to take you up on that."

~~

The sun lay low in the late afternoon sky making the lake look like it was sparkling. Sadie and Luke stood by the water's edge, still filling in the quiet hours without Jack and Quinn.

Sadie grinned, nudging Luke with her elbow. "Bet you can't beat me in a water fight."

"You're on."

Without warning, Sadie walked off into the water, her laugh echoing as she turned around to splash Luke. He barely had time to react before a wave of water was hitting his lower legs.

"Oh, it's like that?" Luke laughed, taking off after her.

It didn't take long before they were having a full-on war, splashing each other mercilessly. Sadie couldn't stop laughing as Luke chased her through the water. After on particularly good splash, she tried to swim away, but Luke caught up to her, his hands gripping her waist as he tried to dunk her. Sadie squealed in protest, kicking her legs.

"Let go, you cheater!" she giggled, twisting in his grip.

Luke grinned, he really liked how infectous her laugh was. But as they wrestled in the water, something shifted. His hands lingered on her waist longer than they should have. Her skin was riddled in goosebumps from the cold water, but still felt smooth under this touch, and suddenly the playful moment didn't seem quite as innocent.

Shit.

Sadie, still in the middle of laughing and trying to escape his hold, didn't seem to notice the change in him. She was completely carefree, seeing the moment for what it was--a game. But Luke wasn't feeling it anymore. His throat felt tight and pulse picked up.

His hands were still on her waist.

Luke's breath hitched, and before she could turn around and see the look on his face, he let go, stumbling backward in the water.

"You good? You're not giving up already, are you?"

Luke forced a chuckle, but it came out sounding way more like a cough. "Uh, yeah, I--uh, I think I've had enough."

Without waiting for her response, he quickly waded out of the water and back onto the shore. The evening breeze did nothing to cool his flustered state.

Sadie was still in the water, floating on her back with a smile on her face. "Aw, come on!"

He just mumbled something incoherent, grabbed his towel, and hurried back into the house without even looking her way.

~~

Luke rushed past his parents in the kitchen, heading straight for his room. He slammed the door shut behind him and flopped down onto the bed, shoving his face in a pillow. He wanted to scream, but even the pillow wouldn't muffle the sound enough from anyone downstairs.

I'm attracted to her.

The thought hit him like a freight train, the words echoing over and over again like a prayer. It wasn't just some innocent crush. He was undeniably, painfully attracted to Sadie--his brother's girlfriend.

How had he let it get this far? She was dating Jack. She was Jack's girlfriend. And yet, anytime she laughed or smiled at him, Luke felt like a fucking high schooler.

He couldn't stop it, couldn't ignore it anymore.

He hadn't meant to hold her like that in the water. It was meant to be just a harmless game, but he had taken it too far in his mind. Sadie, however, hadn't even seemed to notice. Maybe she did and she was just ignoring it. Surely that was it.

"You're such a fucking idiot, Luke," he cursed himself, but every time he closed his eyes all he could see was how perfect she had looked in that moment.

The worst part of all? He didn't want to stop feeling that way.

Even as the guilt knawed at him, he couldn't bring himself to want to distance from her. Being around Sadie felt good. It felt natural. And that scared him even more.

Suddenly, he heard laughter from the hallway outside his door. Luke froze, listening as Jack's voice joined in, low and teasing, followed by Sadie's giggles.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the guilt. But then there was a pause in the laughter. He could picture what was happening. The way that Jack was looking at Sadie. The that Sadie was looking back up at Jack with a smile on her face, maybe teasing him.

Then... the sound of a kiss broke the silence. It was soft, but it might as well have been the loudest thing that Luke had ever heard. His stomach twisted, and he tried to shove his face further into the pillow, but it was no use the couple was back to laughing.

This is wrong. It's all wrong. But as wrong as he knew it was, he couldn't deny the truth.

He was falling for Sadie. And he was falling for Sadie... hard.

~~

The whole family and Sadie were gathered around the pool table, Jim and Ellen watching from the corner, while the "kids" took their turns at the competetive game that had started.

Sadie was standing next to Jack, leaning against the wall with a gin and tonic, that her "boyfriend" had made her, in her hand. She was watching Quinn line up his shot, her eyes crinkling as she laughed about whatever it was that Jack was whispering to her about. Jack had his arm draped over her shoulders, pulling her closer as she laughed. They looked so comfortable. So perfect.

Luke stood across from them, gripping his pool cue so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Every laugh that Jack and Sadie shared, every playful nudge, felt like a stab to his gut.

"Alright, Sades, your go," Jack kissed her cheek before handing her a cue.

She leaned over the table, lining up her shot with Jack standing behind her, offering a few "helpful" tips. His hand rested on her lower back, guiding her aim. Quinn looked over at Luke, raising his eyebrows as if to say "look how suggestive he's being."

Luke just shook his head, trying to focus on the game. But all he could think about was how close and touchy they were being. And how it made his stomach churn with something that he could only guess was jealousy.

Fuck, it was so messed up.

"Luke, it's your turn," Quinn called.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, right," he blinked, shaking his head. He stepped up to the table, trying to compose himself as he lined up his shot. He missed it by a mile, the ball ricocheting off the side with a loud thunk.

"Wow, nice one, Rusty," Jack teased.

His jaw was clenched, "Guess I'm just off tonight."

Sadie didn't even notice, giggling as Jack asked for her opinion on their next move. Why were they acting like they were the only ones in the room? Was nobody else finding it annoying? Luke glanced at his mom. She was smiling at the young couple, a lovestruck look on her face. Maybe he was the only one that found it annoying.

~~

Sadie lay sprawled across Jack's bed, her phone held loosely in her hand as she scrolled through texts from her friends back home. Jack was in the shower, insisting he wash the lake water off his body. She had some time to kill and her friends, that weren't her friend group with Jack, were ready to gossip.

The Hottest Girls in Jersey Sadie, Alex, and Carly

Carly: Soooo, how's it going with Mr. NHL?? Alex: yeah, girl. spill. is he, like, actually boyfriend material or are you just having a hot ass summer fling??

Sadie rolled her eyes at their messages, biting her lip as she thought of her reply.

Sadie: it's... complicated Carly: Ugh, isn't it always lol Alex: we need details, sades. what's complicated? the sex? the family? Sadie: family's cool. his mom is like super sweet. and his brothers are... yeah Carly: Oh, brothers, huh? Now you like reallyyyyy need to spill

Sadie hesitated, glancing towards the bathroom door. She could still hear Jack humming to himself while the water ran. No way he was gonna come out and read her messages any time soon.

Sadie: okay, fine. it's not really jack. it's luke Carly: LUKE?! Alex: WAIT. WHAT. HIS BROTHER LUKE?! Sadie: yep. younger brother, but soooooo much more my type Carly: Girllllll, you're bad Alex: hold the fucking phone. is this the guy we're talking about here? what's wrong with jack, then? isn't he like the only reason you're there?

She chuckled to herself, it did kinda sound insane when she typed it all out.

Sadie: jack's great. don't get me wrong. but, luke... he's like more quiet. jack's more playful and sassy, but idk... plus i love a boy with curly hair Carly: You're catching feelings for his brother??? Holy shit, girl Alex: lmao this is legit some CW ass drama

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Maybe it was a little ridiculous, but it was true. Luke was more her type. He was tall, not that Jack wasn't tall, but Luke was tall. He had the cutest nose and the best curls she'd ever seen. Jack was fun. Jack was easy. But Luke...

Sadie: it's not that deep. but yeah, ig i'm more into luke than jack Carly: Oooo Alex: you're fake dating jack tho, right? like what's the plan here?? Sadie: i don't fucking know!!! nothing's happened with luke, obviously. but like next time we're alone? i might see what happens ;) Carly: You are fucking INSANE, Sadie!!! Alex: if you're that desperate, you've got Jack right there...

She laughed out loud at Alex's message. She was definitely not desperate, but she still glanced to the bathroom door. The water had stopped. Jack would be out any second.

Sadie: trust me, i'm not desperate. luke's gonna be the move

Just as she hit send, Jack emerged from the bathroom, towel hung low on his hips.

"Texting the girls?" he ran a hand through his wet hair.

She slipped her phone under the pillow, a playful smile on her face. "Yeah, they were asking about you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, falling down onto the bed next to her. "All good things, I hope?"

She snorted, "Guess you'll never know."

He rolled his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. "Whatever. You were probably telling them how much of a stud I am."

Sadie smirked, though her mind was still buzzing with the excitement of what she'd just admitted to her friends. Jack had no idea, and honestly? That just made it even more thrilling.

~~

Jack bounded into the living room, his backpack slung over one of his shoulders. Sadie was sat on the couch, scrolling passively through Instagram, while Luke stood in the kitchen chugging a glass of water.

"I'm headed to the rink for a few hours," Jack announced, slapping his hand on the back of the couch, full of energy. "Got a little off-season workout with Q and some of the guys."

"A workout?" Sadie quirked an eyebrow. "You never stop, do you?

"That's what makes me so irrresistible, babe." He shot her a wink before turning to Luke. "You busy?"

Luke wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, setting down his glass. "Not really."

"Why don't you keep her company? You guys should hang out. Show her around town or something."

Luke flushed, his eyes flickering to Sadie, who was sat with an amused smile on her face. "Uh, yeah, sure."

"Perfect!" Jack leaned down and kissed Sadie's cheek. "Don't miss me too much while I'm gone, okay?"

"I'll try," she giggled, leaning into his touch but keeping her eyes on Luke.

"See you later! Have fun!"

And just like that Jack was gone.

"Well, looks like it's just us again," Sadie said, stretching dramatically.

"Yeah, guess so."

Sadie stood from the couch, tapping her finger against her lips as if she was thinking. "You know what we should do?"

"What?"

"Go for a swim! It's hot out, and the lake looks amazing."

Luke hesitated. He wasn't sure he could handle that again. But before he could come up with an excuse, Sadie was heading toward the back door.

"Come on! Don't make me swim alone. I might drown."

By the time he made it down to the dock, Sadie was standing at the edge, her back to him as she looked out over the water. She had stripped down to her bikini--a simple black one that fit her like a glove.

Luke shook his head. He had no right to stare. Jack's girlfriend, not his. Get a grip.

"Took you long enough, Luke. Thought you were going to bail on me."

"Just... taking my time." He managed a weak laugh.

"Uh-huh." She dipped her toe in the lake, testing the temperature. "Water feels amazing. Bet I can beat you in."

She dove in without even waiting for an answer. She resurfced a few feet out, shaking the water from her hair and grinning at him. "What're you waiting for?"

Luke hesitated for just a second longer before diving in after her. The shock of the cool water cleared his head. That was until he surfaced and saw Sadie floating nearby, her hair splayed around her like a halo.

"See? Told you it feels amazing."

He swam a bit closer, but decided to keep his distance. "Yeah, guess you were right."

Sadie flipped onto her stomach, treading water as she swam to him. "Relax." She nudged her shoulder with his. "You look so tense."

Her tone was light, but the promixity of them felt almost dangerous. "I am relaxed."

"Bullshit. You look like the tensest motherfucker ever," she splashed him, the water hitting him square in the face. "Come on. Loosen up."

Luke sputtered, wiping the water from his eyes. "Oh, it's gonna be like that, huh?"

"Just sayin'... life's too short to be serious all the time," her hand brushed his arm as she floated by, leaving goosebumps in her wake.

Her touch was light, casual, but it still made it so he couldn't think straight. He wanted to keep his distance, but she wasn't making it easy in the slightest.

"You and I should do this more often," she mused.

"What? Swim?"

She scoffed, "No. Hang out."

Was she messing with him? Or was she being serious? He couldn't tell with her. Her teasing had been light and innocent until now. Now every word that left her mouth felt like it had a second meaning.

"I... I don't know."

What kind of shit response was that? God, he looked like an idiot.

She swam closer to him, stopping when she was right in front of his face. "You don't know? I think you do, Luke."

He could feel her leg brushing against his and his whole body felt like it was one fire despite the cool water. He should've pulled back, but he couldn't. He was frozen.

"Ha! You're cute when you're flustered."

For a moment, he felt himself lean in, as if there was an invisible force pulling him to her. But just as quickly, Sadie pulled away, climbing back onto the dock and swaying her hips as she headed back to the house, leaving the boy completely flabbergasted.

~~

Jim and Ellen had left for a special dinner out and Jack had quickly suggested a game night, complete with alcohol and whatever games they could find in the basement. Luke had agreed, only because he knew he could drink, and that might make being in the same room as Sadie more bearable.

"Alright, team," Jack tossed a can of beer to Luke, who caught it without looking "Game night is on. Hope you're ready to lose, Qball."

"Yeah, yeah. You always say that, but I'm the one who wins."

"You guys don't stand a chance. Right, babe?" Sadie grinned up at Jack.

"You bet. Dream team right here."

Luke looked at them, all snuggled up together. He blinked a few times before chugging the rest of his beer. Jack laughed, "Alright, Lukey." He tossed him another one, getting ready to explain the rules of the game.

By the third round, Jack had pulled Sadie into his lap, his arms wrapped around her waist like a seatbelt. They were laughing, whispering inside jokes, and exchanging kisses, acting like they were the only people in the room.

Luke tried to focus on the game, but he found himself looking up to see Sadie running her fingers through Jack's hair, her other hand squeezing his thigh.

He wanted to believe that she had meant something by the little act she'd put on at the lake. But seeing her all over Jack made him feel like he'd never been so wrong. She was clearly into Jack. She didn't mean anything by it. She's just... being friendly.

So why did it feel like more?

"Can you guys like chill?" Quinn spoke up. "We're trying to play a game, not watch you two make out."

"Oh, come on, Quinn. We're just having fun," Sadie giggled.

"Yeah, don't be a buzzkill," Jack added, pressing kisses to her neck.

"There's having fun, and then there's..." Quinn paused, his voice laced with annoyance. "You're practically having sex in front of us."

"Jealous?"

"No, Luke and I just don't wanna see that."

"Whatever."

"Your turn, Luke."

"Right," he muttered, grabbing the dice and rolling it halfheartedly. The alcohol wasn't helping, dulling his senses and making everything worse. He kept glancing at Sadie, hoping for some sign that she was aware of what she was doing to him, but she didn't even look his way.

The final straw came when Jack, clearly tipsy, pulled Sadie in for a long, slow kiss right in the middle of Quinn's turn. Jack and Sadie were known by their friends for their drunk kisses, but his brothers really didn't want to see it.

"I'm done. You two aren't even playing!" Quinn threw his hands up.

"Fine, fine. We'll stop! Happy now?"

"No. I'm going to bed before I see something even worse."

"Uh, yeah, me too. Night guys," Luke nodded, following his oldest brother.

"Bedtime?" Jack laughed.

"Yeah, bedtime, I guess."

~~

Luke hadn't gone to bed. He couldn't sleep. His brain wouldn't shut up. It had been a couple hours since game night had ended and he felt more sober than he was before he started drinking. Maybe he was insane. Maybe Sadie had driven him to his breaking point. She was so goddamn confusing. And--

"Hey."

"What're you doing out here? Shouldn't you be with Jack?"

She shrugged, closing the sliding door behind her. "He's passed out. I wanted to come find you."

"Sadie, you really shouldn't--"

"I know what you're going to say. But I think you're wrong."

"Wrong?"

Sadie moved in, her hand reaching for his, her fingers tracing along his wrist. "You're overthinking things, Luke."

His breath hitched as she leaned in, her face inches from his, her lips so close he could feel her breath. He should've pulled away. He should've told her to stop.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

Instead, Luke closed the gap between them, his lips crashing against hers in a desperate, longing kiss.

She kissed him back, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. Her touch sent sparks through his body. But those sparks made reality set in.

He pulled away, his chest heaving. "No. This is wrong."

"What?"

"You need to stop," he stood up suddenly, almost making Sadie fall over. His voice was full of anger. "This... this whole thing is fucked up, Sadie. You're Jack's girlfriend."

She stared at him for a second or two before, to Luke's surprise, she started laughing.

"What the hell is so funny?" Luke snapped. "I'm going to tell him. I'm going to tell Jack everything. He needs to know what you've been doing."

"You don't get it, do you?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Jack and I aren't really together."

"What... what do you mean?"

Sadie sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's fake. The whole thing--it's just an act."

"An act? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Jack needed me to play the part of his girlfriend for the summer," Sadie explained, her tone casual as if everything she was saying was normal. "Natalie, the neighbour girl. She's obsessed with Jack. And she won't take no for answer. So he asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend so she'd leave him alone."

"So... this is all fake?"

"Yep. We've just been playing the part, that's all."

"But... you guys... you were kissing. You're all over each other."

Sadie shrugged, her smile turning sheepish. "That... that's just something that happens when we drink. No big deal."

"No big deal? You guys were making out in front of us, and you're saying it doesn't mean anything?"

"Exactly. Jack and I are close friends. That's all it is. No feelings involved," her tone was so matter-of-fact it made Luke's stomach churn. "All for show. We figured the more real it looks, the less people will question it."

"So... you don't have feelings for him?"

"For Jack? No. We're friends. Nothing more. We've been friends since he joined the Devils. And yeah, we get a bit... affectionate when we drink. But it's never been serious."

"Then why... why were you flirting with me?"

"Because, Luke... you're the definition of my type." She reached out and brushed her hand against his cheek. "Didn't think it was that hard to figure out."

"But Jack..."

"Jack doesn't care," she cut him off. "He's the one that suggested I hang out with you more. He's clueless. He only cares that I keep Natalie away from him."

"So this whole time, you've been..."

"I've been flirting with you. And you've been trying soooo hard to resist. It's kinda cute."

He had been so sure that what he felt was wong--so convinced that he was betraying Jack. Now... now he didn't know what to think.

"This is... this is insane."

"Maybe. But it's also kinda fun. Don't ya think?"

Luke didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond to that. Everything he thought he understood had just been flipped upside down, and now he was standing there with Sadie--Jack's not-so-girlfriend--who had just admitted she'd been flirting with him for days. Part of him wanted to kiss her again. The other part was screaming at him to stop because even if they weren't dating, it still felt like he was lying to his brother.

"I... I don't know what to do."

"Don't have to do anything. Just think about it, I guess. I'm not going anywhere. Jack's got me stuck here for a while."

She winked, turning toward the door, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts once again.

~~

Jack was up, chatting with his parents over breakfast, Sadie sat next to him looking as carefree as ever. Luke was watching her silently from across the room, his mug of coffee in his grip.

She glanced over at him and smiled like nothing had changed. But everything had changed. And Luke knew he needed to talk to her. He hated pretending things were normal when they weren't. His mind was playing the kiss on repeat and the way she'd admitted her relationship with Jack was just for show.

It all felt like a weird dream.

When Jack got up to grab some more cereal, Luke saw his chance.

"Sadie," he whispered, "can we talk? Alone?"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jack who was now rummaging through the fridge for some milk. "Sure. Lead the way."

Once they were inside Luke's room, Sadie leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. "What's up? I see Mr. Serious is back."

"I just... I need to understand how this is supposed to work. The whole thing with Jack. You and me. All of it."

"What's there to understand? Jack's clueless. He doesn't know anything. Not that he'd care anyway."

"You make it sound so simple."

"Because it is," she shrugged. "You're overcomplicating it."

"I don't know if I can keep this up. It's driving me crazy."

"Is it? Because it didn't seem like you were too hard of a time last night on the porch."

"Fuck it," he muttered.

He grabbed Sadie by the waist, before he could second-guess himself, crashing his lips against hers in a kiss full of pent-up frustration and desire.

Sadie definitely didn't second-guess anything, kissing him back as her hands ran up to his hair. Any boundaries that Luke had tried to build had been torn down, but he didn't care. He couldn't stop.

They stumbled backward, his hands sliding down a bit to her hips. The kiss deepened, becoming more heated with every passing second. The rest of the world melted away, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing as they broke apart just to kiss again.

The bed hit the back of Luke's knees and they collapsed onto it, lips still locked. For one of the first times since Luke had met Sadie, he wasn't busy thinking about right or wrong. He wasn't thinking about Jack or the consequences of his actions. All that mattered was Sadie, the taste of her lips, and how tight her fingers were gripping his hair.

Just as things were about to heat up further, Jack's voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs.

"Sadie? You up there?"

She pulled back instantly, her lips swollen from the kiss. "Shit," she whispered. "I should... I should go."

Luke didn't say anything, his eyes half-lidded. Sadie stood up, adjusting her shirt and hair as she shot him a smile "Sorry, Luke. Duty calls."

She looked back at him one last time as she opened the door. "This isn't over."

What had he gotten himself into?

~~

It had been a couple days since Sadie and Luke had shared their first kiss, and they'd been sneaking around ever since. Little touches when no one was looking, stolen kisses behind closed doors. The more they got away with, the more daring they became.

That afternoon, Jack had been outside messing around with Quinn by the dock, while Sadie had slipped away, telling Jack she needed to grab something from inside. Luke had been alone in the house, trying to clear his head. But the second Sadie entered the living room, everything went out the window.

And suddenly, they were tangled together on the couch, lips locked. Sadie gripped the front of his t-shirt, tugging gently. It was just them in that moment, tension building higher and higher, and Luke couldn't stop himself from enjoying it.

Then the door slammed.

They pulled apart just in time to see Jack standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock. The expression on his face was confused, almost dazed as he stared at them.

"Uh... what the fuck?" His tone was sharp, but not angry--more like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Luke's hands fell away from Sadie as he shot up from the couch, his face flushed. "Jack, I--"

Jack cut him off, pacing the room, his eyes shooting between them as he tried to piece everything together. "How long... how long has this been going on?"

Sadie just waited for Luke to speak.

"Luke, how long?" Jack repeated.

"A couple days. It just... happened."

"A couple days? And you just didn't think to say anything?"

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but Jack's attention shifted to Sadie. "Does he know? About us?"

"Yes, Jack. I told him. He knows it's all fake."

"So... you knew? You knew it was fake, so you decided..." Jack gestured wildly between them, pacing again, his hands tugging at his hair. "I don't get it. I don't fucking get it."

"Jack, I didn't mean for any of this to happen--"

"Didn't mean for what to happen? You didn't mean to start sneaking around with my fake girlfriend? Or you didn't mean to fall for her?"

Jack wasn't yelling. He wasn't angry. He just looked... confused. Hurt, maybe? And that just made it all so much worse.

"J, listen. This whole thing--it got out of hand. Luke and I... we didn't plan this. Just happened."

"But you two... were just... you were just making out on the couch! How does that 'just happen?'"

Sadie rolled her eyes, "Just does."

"Clearly! I mean, I thought everything was fine. I thought everyone was just hanging out, and meanwhile, you two are making out on the couch?"

"I'm sorry, Jack. I..."

"I'm not mad. Just... what the hell, guys? I don't understand."

"J, it's not like that. You and I--we're just friends. You know that. This shit with Luke... it's different."

"Different how?"

"Dunno. Just is."

Finally, Jack let out a long sigh, running a hand down his face. "Okay. Okay, fine. You two... you do whatever. I just... I need a minute to process all this."

Sadie opened her mouth to respond, but Jack held up a hand, stopping her. "Seriously, just... gimme a minute. I'll be outside if you need me."

Luke collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands as Jack retreated outside. Could this get any worse?

~~

The rest of the day had been weird and silent. Sadie had spent it journaling and reading, giving both brothers the space that they needed. But as they got ready for bed, things were the most awkward they'd ever been between Jack and Sadie. Jack moved around the room, grabbing his phone charger and tossing it onto his nightstand, while Sadie stood by the dresser, pulling a t-shirt over her head. Neither of them spoke, both waiting for the other to break the silence.

"So... are we going to talk about this?" Sadie finally gave in.

"Talk about what?"

"You know what," she gave him a look. "About you walking in on me and Luke today."

"What's there to talk about? I mean... I get it. You guys--"

"Are you jealous?" she interrupted, her voice timid. "Like, even a little bit?"

Jack blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Jealous?" He furrowed his brow. "No. I don't think so."

"Not even like... deep down?"

"Honestly?"

She nodded, urging him to continue.

"No. I don't feel jealous. I mean, maybe if I did... I'd be way more upset about it all. But.. I dunno. I've only ever seen you as a friend. Same way you see me. A close one, sure, but still... just a friend. You know that."

"Yeah, I do. But you were really thrown off earlier, Jack. You seemed so... I dunno.... confused?"

"Yeah. I think it was more just the shock of it, ya know? Didn't expect to walk in and see my brother making out with my fake girlfriend."

She let out a small laugh. "So it's not weird for you? At all?"

"I guess it's weird in the sense that... I knew that you and Luke would get along. I just didn't think you'd get along this well."

"Yeah, I didn't exactly see it coming either."

"But no, I'm not mad or anything. Honestly, I think you and Luke fit each other way better than you and me ever could. I'm just surprised... I guess."

"Surprised how?"

Jack sighed, leaning back against the headboard. "I just never thought that... bringing you here would lead to you two... doing whatever this is."

"We haven't really figured it out," she rubbed at her arm.

Sadie climbed into bed first, pulling the covers over herself. Jack followed suit, but as they lay there side by side, for the first time since Sadie had arrived, he made no move to cuddle. No arm draped over her waist. He just laid there, staring at the ceiling.

"You don't want to cuddle tonight?"

Jack hesitated, then sighed for the millionth time that day. "It's just... it feels weird now, I guess. Knowing you've been doing... stuff with Luke. It's different."

Sadie bit her lip, and for the first time she felt that guilt that Luke had been feeling. "Jack... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to get so complicated."

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's not like you did anything wrong... really. Things are just different now... that's all."

Jack rolled over, facing the other side of the bed, leaving a noticeable gap between them. Sadie stared at the back of his head for a moment, feelings like she should reach out and say something. But it was too late, Jack was already asleep.

~~

Sadie and Luke sat at the end of the dock. The whole day had been awkward and Sadie felt even more out of place than she had when she first arrived.

"I don't want to make this weird," Sadie said, her voice soft, but her eyes locked with Luke's. "I really like you, but if it's gonna screw up my friendship with Jack... we should stop. We have to."

"I like you too. More than I thought I would. But yeah, this whole thing with Jack... it's too complicated. I don't wanna hurt my brother. I'd feel so guilty."

"We have to end things. It's not fair to him. Or us."

"I don't want to end things though," Luke admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "This... it's not just about the physical stuff to me. I feel something with you, Sadie. Something real."

"I feel it too. But I can't mess up things with Jack, so maybe it's better if we end things now before they get more complicated."

Jack, who had been on his way back inside, had walked past and heard his friend and brother talking. He leaned against a tree, piecing together everything they were saying. His stomach turned. But it wasn't anger. Or jealousy. He wasn't upset. It was relief. Luke and Sadie really liked each other. It wasn't just some sneaky hookup. It wasn't fair to make them feel guilty for something that wasn't even real to begin with.

"Hey."

Sadie and Luke both jumped, practically leaping out of their skin.

"Jack, I--"

"You don't have to explain anything. I heard what you guys were saying. And look, it's fine. You don't have to end whatever this is."

Sadie blinked in surprise. "You're not upset?"

Jack shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. "No. I'm not. I'm actually happy for you guys."

"Happy for who?" Ellen's voice joined the conversation.

"Jesus, is everyone listening to us?" Luke whispered to Sadie.

Jim and Quinn were close behind Ellen, also curious to what was happening on the dock.

"Luke and Sadie."

"Luke and Sadie?"

"Yeah, they're in love."

"We're not in--"

"Luke's in love with your girlfriend?" Quinn asked.

"About that..." Sadie rubbed her arm awkwardly.

"Sadie and I aren't really dating. We're friends. Close friends. She was just trying to help me get Natalie off my back. And I was helping her get her parents off her back," Jack admitted.

The family stared at him for a beat, then burst into laughter.

"Are you serious? All this was just to keep Natalie away?"

"Pretty much."

Ellen, still smiling, looked at Sadie and Luke, then back to Jack. "You know, Jack... I thought from the start that Sadie was a better fit for Luke anyway."

"Looks like you this turned out well for everyone," Quinn laughed.

Luke turned to Sadie, sliding his fingers between hers. "So... now that the truth's out... what do you think?"

"I think we've got time to figure it out," she giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder. And finally after weeks of being there, Sadie felt like she belonged.

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twenty two

rec listening: what dreams are made of by hilary duff (you'll know when) // words: 11k // warnings: smut, language, fluff galore, and suggestive content // masterlist

Coming off an insanely hectic week and an even more hectic weekend, your plan from the minute you stepped off that plane with Joe and Callie, who he held protectively in his arms as she slept most of the time, was relatively simple.

Very simple, actually.

Rest.

Rest for as much of the day as you could until it was time to get up and ready to drop Callie off at Kaylah’s place before your checkup.

It was a good plan, a sensible plan.

It’s also a plan that went right out the window when you wake up to find your man not next to you, not with his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you against his equally strong chest, hand on your baby bump.

No, instead you find his head in between your legs feasting on you like a man on the brink of starvation. 

“Oh my god….” You will never in your life complain about waking up this way, your favorite adult person in this life, eating you out with that tongue that could make a nun swear. Never. But, you also don’t know how this man is up at what feels like the ass crack of down ready for some pussy with the ridiculous weekend he had. 

His tongue circling your clit makes your hand shoot to his head, fingers immersed in his silky hair. “Baby…..oh shit, just like that.” It’s so hard to speak with him sucking on your pussy in the way that only he can, but you do your best to power through. “You–supposed to be—fuck—resting.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because this man clearly lives to drive you mad. He lifts his head, the sun from the adjacent window hitting him just right to illustrate the shine of your essence all over his beard. Fuck, he must have made you orgasm in your sleep already.

A damn shame you weren’t awake to experience that glory.

Smug as always, he asks, “you really want me to stop?” It’s the way he sticks his index and middle finger inside of you, watching as your back naturally arches, hand moving down to touch yourself.

Joe moves fast, answering your hand away, answering before you can protest, “the next time you come will be on my dick.”

Feeling bold while also eager for that dick, you taunt him, knowing what kind of response you’ll receive. “So what you waiting for?”

He smirks, and you know right then and there, he’s about to make you lose your fucking mind.

In a matter of what feels like seconds, he has you on your hands and knees, powerful backshots making you ready to scream his name for the entire neighborhood to know at least one of their new neighbors’ identity.

Your grip on the headboard is really the only thing keeping you upright, the force of his thrusts so rough and borderline aggressive that it has you seeing stars. One particular angled thrust forces out a louder than necessary curse that you know almost instantly he’s gonna make you pay for.

As expected, he pauses just to let his hand come down on your ass. Blood is nearly drawn with how hard you have to bite on your lip to keep from moaning. “Shut up before you wake her up.” His voice is gruff and demanding and you love it. Love it when he’s rough with you like this, when he makes it clear as day who runs shit in the bedroom. It makes your cunt clench against the girth of his dick. “Fuck, I missed being inside this pussy.”

Not as much as you missed him.

Joe plants his hand on the small of your back, pushing you down, deepening your arch. A groan of absolute bliss is all you can muster as he starts slamming against your G-Spot. “Gon make you come on my mouth and dick every fuckin day I’m home.”

He keeps you almost facedown into the mattress for a couple more minutes before he  suddenly reaches and yanks your body flush against him, again deepening his reach. 

It’s a miracle you don’t scream from that alone.

Joe grabs you by your chin and and turns your head to the wall with the full body mirror that gives you both a perfect view of the nastiness currently occurring. His mouth is by your ear, biting down on your earlobe as he instructs, “Look how fucking gorgeous you look right now, making a mess all over my dick with my baby inside you.”

It’s a hell of a view, the sight alone to make you come all over him right then and there.

His hand moves to your stomach, and you swear you hear a moan as he asks, “you gon give me another baby after this one?”

At that, your eyes go wide, because what in the actual fucking hell? You’re not even halfway through this pregnancy, and he’s already talking about the next?

But then his hand circles back around to the front of you, kneading your breast and intentionally slowing his pace for a torturously teasing second before slamming back into what has to be your stomach.

He’s so fucking deep in you.

Never a fan of having to wait, his deep voice rumbles in your ear, “I asked you a question.” And before you can try to reason with the man that is living, breathing proof God is real and so so good, that big hand travels down the slope of your belly to your pussy, fingers circling your clit. “You gon let me put a baby in you?”

There’s really only one answer you’re capable of giving. Tears down your face from borderline overstimulation, you swear over your entire goddamn uterus for this man to do whatever he wants. “Shit, yes. Oh God, yes.”

He’s visibly pleased and satisfied as he shoves you back on the bed and temporarily removes himself to adjust positions. Joe lays you on your back, legs pushed up at the same time he re-enters you with all the roughness of before. “You ain’t ever getting on that damn pill.”

That could be a problem, maybe, but it’s a problem for another damn day. 

More deep strokes build up that familiar pressure that starts low and expands high. He sees that, the same way you see and feel his end nearing as well. “Lemme see that face when you come all over daddy’s dick.” 

And like the pathetic simp you are for him, your release courses and travels through your entire body, hands squeezing at the sheets, toes curling, trembling and all.

Joe is not far behind, big body hovered over yours as he empties inside of you, sparing not a single drop of his sperm.

He drops to your side, and the two of you lay there in comfortable silence, chests heaving as you try to gather your bearings. 

It’s a couple minutes later when you notice the feeling returning to your bottom half. Turning your head to look at him, you tell him half joking, half serious, “you keep fucking me like that, and I’m gonna be pregnant every year, Joe.” Thinking back, it really is a miracle you didn’t get pregnant much sooner than you did. Granted, it took a bit for you to get comfortable enough to let him fuck you raw. Still, if you knew then what you know now, the beautiful life you’d have together, you probably would have let him impregnated you sooner rather than later.

Especially with knowing how much he’s always wanted a family.

He runs his big hand over your bump. “What’s wrong with that?”

All you can do is stare at him like he’s stupid. This man done lost his goddamn mind. After this baby, you’ll give him one more. After that, that’s it. 

Three kids is your limit.

That’s more than enough.

________

After spending the morning and early afternoon with Callie, the two of you ready her and yourselves for the doctor's appointment. As expected, Callie asks to come, something you were initially okay with until Joe voiced his concerns.

Initially, he’s a bit iffy with his explanation. You don’t follow, don’t understand why you can’t share this moment with Callie as well, letting her hear her baby brother or sister’s heartbeat for the first time.

It’s not until he says, “just want to make sure everything is alright first” that you get it, that you understand he wants to make sure everything is still going smoothly with the pregnancy. It makes all the sense in the world given everything he’s been through with this subject.

So you respect it, hoping he’ll be okay with her attending the next one, or even whichever appointment will be the one where you find out the sex.

She seems to really want a baby sister.

You’re convinced, however, it’s a boy.

It’s something you somehow feel even more convinced of sitting in the doctor’s lobby with your boyfriend, waiting to be called. 

“Looks like my mom’s flight is still scheduled to arrive on time.”

Your mother, forever the drama queen, opted to stay in Philly an extra day so she could “rest.” Rest from what, you’re not entirely sure, because her week wasn’t nearly as hectic as yours and especially Joe. But, the Airbnb was rented until Tuesday, so it wasn’t an issue for him, thus it’s not a big deal to you either. 

He nods. “I’ll pick her up.” 

“You can just pick Callie up on the way home afterwards then.” It’s less ripping and running for the man who should be resting but has been on the go since the minute his eyes opened this morning, it seems. “Give us a few hours of alone time.”

He gives you that look. “You feening already?”

“Stop being nasty,” you chide, even if he’s not entirely wrong. It’s a rarity that you get alone time with the man next to you, usually having to share, or not share, him with his possessive little twin. “I was thinking we could take a nap or something. The next few days are gonna be stupid busy and draining. My agenda is packed.”

“You created a schedule?”

“Of course.” It’s said as if it’s the simplest thing a person could ever explain. “I’m a teacher and a mama, Joe. I live my life by schedules and agenda. I’ll share the Google doc with you.”

Forever confused about modern technology, he asks, “a what?”

Groaning, head thrown back against the seat, you chide him for his outdated knowledge of technology. “You’re such an old man. Imagine Microsoft Word but better and easily accessible.” 

He’s unbothered and clearly set in his ancient ways. “I’m still stuck on the agenda.”

“Baby, if you’re gonna go all out to take us to Disney, I’m gonna make sure we’ll maximize our time there as much as possible.”

He looks like he wants to initially say something but decides on option two instead. “It’s not like it’ll be the last time, baby. We’ll go again in May if you’re up to it, and I know Callie gon want to go again and again.”

“That girl would probably live there if she could.” It’s half a joking, half a serious guess. Thinking on his words, you suggest, “if for some reason I can’t go in May, you two should go.”

He looks at you as if he’s surprised you would suggest something like that. “Yeah?”

Nodding, you grab his arm, laying your head against his shoulder. “She would love that, and with you being home, any opportunity you have to spend time with her, just the two of you, you should take.” Hand to your stomach, you add, “especially before the baby gets here.”

It goes without saying that Joe will absolutely spend as much time with Callie as he can while on indefinite hiatus, but spending said time doing something like taking her to Disney for a father daughter trip would be another level of happiness. 

For the both of them.

A couple of minutes later, your name is called. Joe easily slips his hand over yours, guiding you to the back. He’s standing at your side as the nurse takes your weight, blood pressure, and is outside the door as they take a urine sample to check for sugar and protein levels. Once in the room, the nurse finalizes her portion of questions before instructing you to undress and change into the hospital gown. 

As soon as the door is closed and you’re laid on the table, your hand reaches for his.

“Everything’s going to be fine.”

You’ve been with this man long enough to know that while he’s adept at hiding his emotions, compartmentalizing them wisely and expertly, there’s just some minor telltales that give him away his truth. Tiny little signs that you know and can recognize significantly easier than most. It’s how you know he’s fighting back unease and potential anxiety at something that’s historically been borderline traumatizing for him.  

That’s why you bring your conjoined hands to your belly, again reminding him, “we’re going to be fine.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you don’t need him to. You just need him to know that you’re here for him.

A couple minutes later, Dr. Young walks in with that same friendly greeting, introducing herself to Joe and leaving the same great impression she made during the first appointment. 

She asks all the standard questions before taking your fundal height and transitioning to the big moment you’ve been waiting for since finding out you were expecting. “So far, so good. Let’s get this ultrasound started so mommy and daddy can hear their baby’s heartbeat.” While preparing, she engages you both in conversation. “You already have one child, right?”

Joe answers. “A girl. She’ll be five next month.”

“So not that big of an age gap.” And you’re actually really happy about that, happy that there won’t be so many years between Callie and her little sister or brother. It’ll make the bonding between them that much easier.  “Planning for more after this?”

Her question makes you laugh as you gesture to Joe. “Yes, but the exact number is up in the air because someone over here seems to think I’m a baby machine or something. I’d be okay with one more. Three is my limit though.”

He chuckles but agrees. “I do think three is a good number.”

“Very fair.” Dr. Young also laughs, applying the gel to your stomach, asking the both of you, “ready?”

You give Joe’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze and answer, “we’re ready.”

Her smile remains as she begins to move the transducer around your stomach. Every second after that feels like it weighs 100lbs, like there’s a massive anchor attached to each passing second that crushes down on your chest. It’s important that you remain in a positive mindset for the sake of the man beside you who must be feeling ten times what you’re experiencing.

But then…..

But then you hear it.

The strangest yet most beautiful rhythmic beating expecting parents could hear. 

And then you’re crying. You’re crying because this moment means so much to you, means so much to Joe. His lips are pressed against your forehead, lingering, an unspoken I love you in the air.

It’s like you can feel the anxiety completely wash off and away from him.

From the both of you. 

But then Dr. Young’s smile dims. “Oh….”

One word, and your heart also drops. You beat Joe to it, asking, “what?” 

Her answer, in actuality, comes a few seconds later, but it feels like an hour wait. She seems almost hesitant, “is there—do twins run on either side?”

Your heart drops in a different kind of way, in a pure terror sort of way but for an entirely different reason.

“Please—-please do not tell me that we’re having twins.” That….that can’t be true. You refuse to even allow yourself to consider the possibility that it could be true. One glance at Joe, and he seems just as lost. “Dr. Young.”

She shakes her head. “No, you’re not having twins.” 

And just like that, you release the biggest, relieving, relaxing breath that could leave your body. “Oh, thank God.” Hand on your chest, you laugh a little, shaking your head. “I was about to say—”

“You’re having triplets.”

There’s one blink, two blinks, three blinks followed up with a hearty laugh. Your gaze falls on Joe who isn’t laughing, eyes instead focused on the monitor. “That’s funny.” Shaking your head, you then notice not a speck of humor on her face. “Why—why aren’t you laughing?”

She makes a face, pointing to the screen. “Here’s baby A….” Your eyes land on what you can tell is clearly a baby still in the early stages of development. She moves around the transducer, searching, landing on another indecipherable speck. “Baby B.” Again, more searching before she reaches her final destination. “And baby C.” 

You’re in a state of shock staring at the screen, partially paying attention to her words but more in a state of shock than anything. “And they all have very strong heartbeats.”

This is a beautiful thing for her to say, for you to hear, but it’s the pluralism that you can’t get over. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Wait a damn minute.” By now, you’re no longer crying and instead sitting up on your elbows trying not to have a goddamn stroke. “Are you serious right now?” Before she can say anything, you’re clarifying to avoid any room for miscommunication. “There are three children growing inside me?”

Dr. Young gives a nervous chuckle, offering an almost unsure. “Congratulations?”

“Oh my—” Instantly, you’re turning to Joe, punching him on his big ass arm as hard as you can. 

He has the audacity to make a sound as if it fucking hurt his built like a boulder ass. “Ow.”

“No, that’s what I’m going to be saying when I’m trying to push out three of your big headed ass children!” Just the thought of that alone makes your eyes water. “Like what the fuck, Joe!”

This man has the unmitigated gall to shrug almost nonchalantly “It wasn’t like it was intentional, baby.”

“You know what is going to be intentional?” You point to the wall opposite that’s mostly made up of a large window, providing a view of the busy Florida streets. “Me pushing your big ass out that window for doing this to me!”

Dr. Young gives an uncomfortable cough. “Maybe I should leave you two al—”

“Baby.”

“No, don’t call me that. Matter of fact, don’t call me anything, because we are through! I thought you loved me!”

“Y/N—”

“I think you need to just calm down, Y/N. I know this is unexpected—”

“Unexpected?” Ready to rip into him, a gasp escapes your mouth when a thought crosses your mind. You turn to Dr. Young and ask, “wait. We had sex this morning. Is it possible it’s just like his sperm or something you’re seeing?”

“With a heartbeat?”

You’re not in the mood for Joe’s smartass comments and make as such known. “I wasn’t talking to you, Nick Cannon.” He rolls his eyes. “Doc?”

She’s not much help either. “I’ve been doing this a long time, Y/N. I think I know what a baby looks like. That’s a baby.” She then corrects, “Three, actually.”

“Oh my god,” you moan, eyes starting to water and as you turn to him again. “How could you do this to me? Why would you do this—”

He’s trying to comfort you, voice gentle as he works to calm you down, a hopeless effort. You’re too far gone because now you’re full out crying, very little difference between yourself and Callie during one of her tantrums. “You and your stupid fertile ass super-sperm!”

“Well, I see you two have a lot to talk about—”

“Who the fuck has three kids at once, Joe?” You growl at him while also asking the doctor, “can we like space that shit out? Like I can give birth on different days?”

She seems to be trying her best to be respectful of your haywire emotions. “I don’t—I don’t think that’s possible.”

That evokes another loud sob. “My vagina is literally gonna fucking break. These big ass babies are gonna demolish my walls.”

Dr. Young remains the professional voice of reason. “Now, we don’t know the babies size just yet, so let’s not panic—”

“I do! Big!” You snap, angrily pointing at your former boyfriend. “Look at this man! He’s freakishly huge, and so is basically his entire fucking family.”

She seemingly ignores your probably hormonal outburst, redirecting to facts. “We’ll continue to monitor the babies growth, and if their size presents an issue, then we’ll discuss scheduling a possible C-Section.” She then informs of an additional change in plans. “And because you’re having multiples, I will need to see you every two weeks vs every month due to increased risk of complications with a pregnancy like this—”

“Complications?” Joe questions, and for a second, you’re able to pull away from your meltdown to be present for the possible return of his anxiety. 

Dr. Young is quick to clarify. “Looking at her medical records, the first pregnancy seemed to go relatively well medically, so we have very little reason to think this will be any different. It’s just that taking extra precautions never hurt anybody and is the medical standard for pregnancies with multiples.”

That seems to calm him a bit, as it does you, but only for a second, because you’re right back to freaking out.

“People have baby showers and gender reveal parties. Not babies showers and genders reveal parties. It’s supposed to be single, not plural!”

“Well, you said three was your limit—”

“Joe!”

________

Group Chat: SOS

Y/N: attention everyone, joe and i are no longer together as of today. we will be coparenting moving forward and ask for privacy at this time.

Joe: That’s cute you think I’m letting your ass ever leave me again.

Joe: You ain’t going nowhere.

Alexis: Is this the start of some sex skit? Cause if so, I’m so down. 

Kaylah: Ummmmm, okay?

Jadah: It’s damn near 11pm where I am. What is going on?

Bianca: Sis, did you mean to add us or??????

Y/N: we just got done with the first OB-GYN appointment…..

Y/N: THIS MOTHERFUCKER PUT TRIPLETS INSIDE OF ME.

Alexis: WAIT, WHAT?????

Y/N: YES!

Bianca: As in three children?????

Y/N: Y E S

Alexis: I’m literally never babysitting for ya’ll ever again.

Josh: Damn, Joe….

Jon: Welp….ya’ll will probably qualify for some discount at daycare. Enroll two kids, get two free.

Y/N: NOT FUCKING FUNNY!

Alexis: Ya’ll! We should help them pick out names!

Alexis: I’ll go first.

Alexis: Kelly, Michelle, and Beyonce

Bianca: Alex, Sam, and Clover

Jon: Ed, Edd, and Eddy

Josh: Theodore, Simon, and Alvin

Jadah: Earth, Wind, and Fire

Alexis: Prue, Phoebe, and Piper

Kaylah: Blossom, Buttercup, and Bubbles

Jon: Luke, Leia, and Han

Bianca: Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles 

Trinity: Toni, Tone, and Tony

Josh: Moe, Larry, and Curly

Jadah: Left-Eye, T-Boz, and Chilli 

Bianca: Salt, N, and Peppa

Y/N: LITERALLY NEVER SPEAKING TO ANY OF YOU EVER FUCKING AGAIN

Bianca: I mean, are you really that surprised, Y/N? You’re only three months, and you look four or five.

Y/N: I just thought it was just my chubby little baby boy 🥺

Alexis: Well, it is…..

Jadah: times three***

Kaylah: JADAH

Jadah: You’ve successfully continued the lineage of light skin basketball players. 

Alexis: Warriors finna start scouting them in middle school.

Joe: Jesus Christ, Jadah.

Alexis: BUT DID SHE LIE.

Y/N: i’m literally crying right now. 😭 AND NOT BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS FUNNY.

Joe: She is. In between threatening me, of course…. 

Kaylah: Bro, can you blame her? Twins….okay. Triplets? That’s insane.

Y/N: I’m literally gonna cut his dick off when he’s sleeping tonight. 🤬

Alexis: Don’t do that, friend. You’ll miss it too much. 😫

Y/N: ….fair  

Jon: Yo, can ya’ll take that nasty shit to another chat??? 

Josh: Please. We trying to celebrate the expansion of the Bloodline! Welcome to the family Ash, Misty, and Brock! 

Joe: Those aren’t half bad name suggestions actually….

Y/N: we are not naming our babies after pokemon characters, you fucking asshole.

Y/N: i hope you still like our sofa cause that’s exactly where your ass is sleeping for the rest of your life.

Alexis: You know good and well Callie ain’t about to let you do her daddy like that. She’s #TeamJoe all day erryday.

Y/N: then she can join his ass in the living room too. we’re gonna need room for all these goddamn kids.

Joe: I’m telling you right now, my baby girl ain’t giving up her room.

Trinity: Ain’t ya’ll got like 10 bedrooms or something?

Bianca: No, but literally. 

Trinity: Anyway, congratulations, and please don’t fight in here. 

Alexis: Naw, they fuck more than they fight. That’s why sis carrying the Holy Trinity now. Wasn’t thinking about that shit everytime she was wearing herself out on BDJ dick and letting him come in her like she Cum Express.

Jon: YO! Family friendly, please! Y/N like my lil sis. Ion wanna think about her like that!!!

Josh: 🤢

Jadah: Lex ain’t wrong though 🤔

Jadah: In all seriousness, congratulations to the both of you! 

Alexis: To many more Moana looking babies!

Y/N: ALL I KNOW IS AT LEAST ONE OF THESE BABIES BETTER HAVE SOME OF MY GODDAMN MELANIN THIS TIME 😭

Trinity: Now, sis…..

Jadah: Y/N, I got a river to sell you…..

Alexis: *sings* she’s biracial. She’s biracial, girl…….

*Y/N HAS LEFT THE GROUP CHAT*

Joe: Look what ya’ll done did.

Jadah: Dude, you are literally the last one to fucking talk.

Jon: Yeah, man, you the one that did it.

Alexis: So like, did you come in her three times back to back or like spurts of cum in threes? I’m tryna see something here. 

*JOE HAS LEFT THE GROUP CHAT*

________

Joe is a good man. You know this. But, that doesn’t make you want to kill him any less for literally impregnating you with three goddamn children at the same time. Sure, he’s absolutely right in that it was most definitely not intentional, just a pure stroke of luck, maybe bad luck, but still serendipitous.

And to his credit, you can see he feels a little bad, mostly because of the increased risk for complications that this pregnancy now stands to face. Still, it doesn't stop him from clearly trying to alleviate some of your anxiety about this unexpected plot twist.

He’s overly kind and patient, offering to stop and pick up your latest craving which happens to be the 10 piece nuggets from McDonald’s. He volunteers to help Callie pack, low key a major favor in that it helps you avoid her 50 million questions she’s already asked about this ‘family trip.’ He even runs a bath for you, bath bombs, bubbles, lit candles, and all.

He’s trying. That much is more than obvious. And you appreciate it.

What you don’t appreciate though is the moment you break the news to Callie. Your mom is a lot easier, surprised but also not surprised? Apparently she was suspecting a multiples pregnancy?

She will also be added to the probation list until further notice for such subterfuge, because as her only child, you could have gotten a heads up or something.

But Callie…..sweet, sweet Callie lives up to reputation of having no filter with the first question to leave her mouth.

“Does that mean Jesus doesn’t love you since He gave you all those babies?”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers as Joe closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

No filter whatsoever.

And they just keep coming 

“Why are you having so many?” Callie’s questions are so innocent and sweet, and you know she means no harm, but that doesn’t stop the resurgence of all of your initial, chaotic emotions from earlier. “How are you gonna get all of them out of you, mommy?”

“Oh-kay.” Joe easily swoops Callie into his arms, explaining kindly, “why don’t we let mommy take her bath while you, me, and grandma get started on dinner, hmm?”

This successfully diverts her from unintentionally triggering you as she asks with all the excitement, “can we have spaghetti?”

“We sure can, baby girl.”

He shoots you an apologetic look before taking Callie out of the room, closing the bedroom door. You’re grateful for the dual departure, because you really just need and want to be alone for a little bit.

Stripping your clothes off, you settle into the water that’s heated at just the right temperature. Leaning more on heat than cool. Just the way you like it. 

He knows you so well.

Reclining against the back of the tub, your thoughts wander back to this unexpected twist.

You’re happy. You really are freaking thrilled to be expecting, to be expanding your family, to give Joe more children and Callie siblings. It’s just the childbirth part of it all that has you a little spooked. Callie’s birth really was non-problematic and relatively smooth.

But, it was painful, and that’s not something you’re looking forward to. 

Granted, you’re not sure someone can have a vaginal birth and not experience some level of pain. That just doesn't seem possible. It’s just that the thought of having to do that three times in one sitting is a bit overwhelming and borderline scary.

Three…

Three

For some reason, your mind briefly jumps back in time, not too long ago. Revisiting a conversation. A long overdue, heavy conversation with the one person you never thought you’d meet, let alone develop a budding friendship with.

Jadah. 

In the midst of her sharing and vulnerability, she’d disclosed her losses. Joe’s losses.

Three.

The number was three.

They’d lost three children.

Chills shoot and sprout across your entire body.

You’re not as deeply religious as your mom, but you do believe that some things happen for a reason. Some. 

Nor are you naive or ignorant enough to believe that these children could ever somehow replace the three he lost. That’s just not how life works. 

But 

There is something moving and poignant about the fact that you’re in a strange way able to offer him a different kind of restoration, a different kind of healing, and fill a different type of void.

You could never take away that kind of pain that must burn and rest deep within, but you can give him this. Give him that dream he’s always had of having a big family. Sure, it’s not exactly ideal and you’d much rather have given him three more children on three separate occasions, but that’s just not the way the universe operated this time around.

And that’s okay.

It’s okay.

The bath is suddenly less appealing, a new desire to be around the man you love, the woman who you helped you become the woman you are today, and the little sunshine you’re blessed to call your baby girl.

In under twenty minutes, you’re washed, dressed, and heading down the steps. A smile grows on your face as you walk into the kitchen. Your mom is at the stove, holding Callie as she adds seasoning, explaining to Calista the purpose of each additive.

Joe is at the sink draining the pasta when you move behind him, slightly catching him off guard. He turns and looks down. “Hey, baby.”

Hugging him from the side and burying your head into him, you feel him shift, arms around you as he kisses the top of your head. In a low voice, probably to avoid attracting Callie’s attention just yet, he asks, “you alright?”

Nodding against him, you murmur, “I just love you….a lot.” 

And you do. Lord, you do. For as long as the sun rises and sets in the sky is how long and deep your love for this man will run. He’s done so much, given up so much, sacrificed so much for you. For Callie. But for you too. 

This….this is what he deserves.

________

The four of you are up and on the road before 8am rolls around, Joe’s preference as the official start of your trip and stay at Disney for the next few days is apparently set to kick off at 10am.

The recent consistent early mornings you’ve all had the past almost two weeks make it easier to stay on track and on board, but it’s only twenty minutes into the almost hour and a half drive that things start to get a little chaotic.

Moving in your seat, you look over at Joe. “Baby, I have to pee.”

He quickly turns to you for a second before focusing back on the road. “What you mean you have to pee?”

This man is so damn irritating sometimes. “I mean, urine needs to leave my urethra.”

As if you’re a child, he asks the most obvious question. “Why didn’t you use the bathroom before we left?”

“I did!”

This doesn’t seem feasible to him as he questions almost suspiciously. “And you gotta go again already?”

Rolling your eyes, you start to get a bit snappy, because why does you needing to use the bathroom have to be such a big deal? “Well, I’m sorry your children are playing hopscotch on my bladder, alright?” You’re pretty sure the babies aren’t big enough to be the cause of that just yet. It’s most likely the 32oz cup of lemonade sitting in the cupholder you've been sipping on since you got in the Range Rover that’s got you needing to go to the restroom.

But, he doesn’t need to know that. 

Your personal little morality police then decides to chime in from the backseat where she sits next to your mom. “Mommy, you said a bad word.”

Turning around in your seat to look at her, you ask, “Callie, why aren’t your headphones on?” There’s a reason you made sure to charge and pack them for her. For this very reason.

“Don’t try to deflect. My grandbaby is right. You said a bad word.”

The love you have for your mother and daughter is endless, but the two of them together is bringing on a headache. “Mama, why aren’t your AirPods in?”

She smacks her teeth, waving you off. “Girl, I told you I don’t know how to work them things”

“Mama, you literally just put them in your ear.” Turning to Joe, you ask, “and why haven’t you stopped yet?”

He motions to the interstate asking like the smartass that he is. “Do you see an exit yet?”

“Don’t take that tone with me, okay!” Sniffling more from allergies than true emotions, you sit back in your seat with your arms crossed. “I’m sensitive.”

“Girl, you ain’t never been sensitive a day in your life.”

Yeah, mama is about to get dropped off at the first damn exit.

Forever the curious cat, Callie asks no one in particular. “What does sensitive mean?”

Joe answers with a chuckle, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “It means your mommy, baby girl.”

It would be perfect if your child was like others and accepted one answer as the final answer, but that’s too good to be true. She’s too smart and inquisitive for that. “Is that cause mommy has all those babies in her tummy?”

“Oh my—” Hand to your temple, you murmur hopefully loud enough for only Joe to hear. “We are never going on a road trip ever again.”

Callie then informs that she too needs a bathroom break. “Daddy, I have to pee too.”

“I guess I could move my bladder again....”

Your mom caving to peer pressure and getting behind you and Callie in the metaphorical line for the restroom sends Joe over the edge. He asks over a sigh, “seriously, did none of yall go to the bathroom before we got on the road?”

With all the sass in the world, you point back to each identifying party as you explain, “she’s young. She’s old. And I’m pregnant. What did you expect?” Grabbing your tumbler, you take another sip of your drink. 

Joe catches this and asks suspiciously. “What are you drinking?”

A pause. “Huh?”

He makes a sound. “Is that water?”

Another giveaway pause. “Y–yeah.”

You maybe, maybe, could have gotten away with it too if not for the little snitch in the backseat. “No, it’s not, mommy. Remember, you put the lemonade in there.”

“Callie!”

He throws up one hand from the steering wheel. “Why would you drink lemonade on a road trip and continue to drink it when you already have to use the bathroom?”

It’s hard to argue with him at that. “Okay, when you put it that way, you may have a point.” 

Joe can only laugh at the chaos of it all, reaching for your hand and bringing it to his mouth as he mutters. “you’re lucky I love you.”

Not as much as you love him.

Or maybe not as much as Callie is about to love him, does love him, because the minute you’re in the vicinity of the wonderfully colorful, large welcome to Walt Disney World Sign, and she lays eyes on it?

It’s a wrap.

With all the excitement and bliss in her little body, she nearly ruptures the eardrums of all three of you with her loud exclamation.

“WE’RE GOING TO DISNEY WORLD!”

Joe has seemingly spared no expense when it comes to his little girl, and this trip is living proof of that. You quickly learn upon your arrival into Disney that he arranged and paid for the VIP experience, which means it’s hands on, personalized service starting with a private shuttle carrying the four of you to the hotel you’ll be staying at.

The hotel is Disney’s Grand Floridian Resort & Spa, which just so happens to be the most expensive resort in Disney World. And it would clearly be remiss of Joe to not reserve the most expensive room in said expensive hotel.

The 3-Bedroom Grand Villa - Lake View

It’s fucking massive. Three bedrooms. Four full bathrooms. A full kitchen, living and dining area, washer and dryer as well as a balcony that overlooks the park.

Stunning.

Your mom is just as much in awe as you are the minute you step foot in the villa, meanwhile Callie is talking a mile a minute about all of the things she wants and needs to do once she learns this trip will be for Magic Kingdom.

Catching Joe by his sleeve, you mouth the words thank you.

He didn’t have to do this. Didn’t have to spend what you know has to be an ungodly amount of money to make this happen. There were ways to keep it nice and simple, but that’s not him because there’s nothing simple about the way he loves his daughter.

The way he loves you.

Lips pressed against your temple, he vows and says the words you’ll probably never get tired of hearing.

“I love you too…”

________

Everything about Disney is even more magical and spectacular than you could have ever imagined.

Big, majestic, magical.

It’s made even better in that this VIP experience includes a guide who’s apparently assigned to your group for the entirety of the trip, helping direct and lead you to the best and most worthwhile places.

Your agenda is not needed, clearly.

Day one kicks off with a visit to the Bippity Boppity Boutique where Joe has arranged for Callie to have the The Princess Signature Dress Package every day that you're there, the most expensive and deluxe option where she gets the full on treatment that morphs her into whatever her chosen Disney princess is.

Of course, she doesn’t hesitate to answer Moana when asked what she wants to be for day one. 

If you have to guess, you’d surmise that Tiana, 2023 Ariel, and Jasmine will be her next three, in no particular order. However, it’s an emotional thing for you to see Callie be so happy and full of glee, especially as she gets to see herself in the mirror. 

She really does look like Moana. It’s kinda crazy.

However, once she’s all princessed up and you and your mom buy and change into overpriced shirts from a nearby shop, you’re ready to tackle the day. 

And what a fucking day. You knew Disney was huge, but you didn’t know just how massive. There’s so many things and options and people on any given corner, and you’re suddenly so grateful for this ability to explore while still maintaining some level of privacy. Having the guide, Cheyenne, makes things so much smoother with even something as simple as using the Utilidors to travel to certain areas.

One thing you were a bit concerned about as the trip got closer was just that — privacy. Especially on top of the whole Mariah fiasco, your apparently being internet famous, and Joe actually being famous, the last thing you wanted was for fans who don’t recognize boundaries to be all over him.

Not when Callie is present.

But Joe probably also had that thought, hence him planning this out so well, so thoughtfully. 

And you’re grateful because it seems to make the experience even better for all, especially Callie. My God, you’ve never seen her so happy. Her smile is permanently tattooed on her adorable face as she gets to meet various Disney characters, especially the Disney princesses. Not everyone is tackled the first day, but that’s to be expected. She does, however, get to meet Moana the first day and holy shit, talk about a religious experience.

She’s damn near in tears from happiness. It’s cute and heartwarming to watch, and you’re so grateful your mother has volunteered herself to be the photographer for this experience. She captures it all. The way Joe walks hand in hand with Callie, how you and Joe walk hand in hand with Callie, all of the meet and greets with the characters, the small rides Callie asks to go on, not too many, but enough. 

It’s all memorialized via the beauty of modern technology and forever etched into your memories for years to come. 

And while Joe is primarily focused on Callie, who wants all of his attention for this experience, that doesn’t stop him from checking in on you. It’s done a couple different ways: nonvernal, verbal, little touches and kisses against your temple as he gauges your comfort level. And each time you assure him with the same variety of ways. It’s a bit of an exhausting experience, what with all the walking and Florida heat, but that’s to be expected and nothing you can’t handle. 

You've waited too long to take away this moment from Callie, from your mom who’s probably emptied her savings with her inability to not buy at least one thing from each store passed. And because she’s just as stubborn as you are, she practically slaps Joe’s hand when he reaches for his wallet to pay for her stuff. 

You’re certain he’ll find some sort of way to compensate her. 

That’s just the kind of man he is. 

The next couple of days seem to roll by faster than you realized, filled with so much happiness and fun that it feels like you blinked and the second to last day has rolled around.

When Thursday evening arrives, said second to last day of your trip, instead of dinner being shared amongst the four of you, Joe throws you for a bit of a loop, informing that he’s reserved a private room for the two of you at Cinderella’s Castle.

It’s not that you’re opposed in the slightest. If anything, it’s nice to be able to have some alone time. 

For whatever reason, your mom spends longer than what’s usual touching up your edges, almost obsessively trying to make them look “perfect.” And she says as such with a coy comment of, “you gotta look your best tonight, baby.”

One could argue you always try to look your best for special occasions, but there’s also this part of you that knows Joe’s love for you goes beyond the physical. It’s deeper than that, so so much deeper. 

As is yours for him.

Still, you tap into your inner makeup artist bag and have Callie ‘assist’ you in doing your makeup after your mom finally feels satisfied with the refresh of your silk press. Silver jewelry and some strappy white heels finish off the baby blue dress you wear that beautifully accentuates your baby bump.

You briefly considered wearing something red, but that’s for Roman. This is Joe. And the baby blue stood out because, at the time, you were thinking you’re having a baby boy. And that could still be the case, just….add on two more.

Joe looks good, but that’s nothing new. This man has never seen ugly a day in his life. 

You’re both taken to the restaurant via that private ride and escorted to the reserved room almost immediately. However, you can’t stop taking in the restaurant that is so heavily themed based on the move its title is based on.

It’s just as beautiful on the inside as it is on the inside. 

“Joe, this is so beautiful.” It feels like you’ve been plopped into a literal scene from the movie, not to mention the added beauty of having privacy away from others.

He asks, almost hesitantly, “you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I love it.” It’s almost beyond you that he could even fix his mouth to ask such a question. This trip has been a dream come true. “This whole thing….everything you’ve put into it. It means the world to me, to my mom, to Callie. Good Lord, you think that girl loved you before? She loves you more than she loves Moana now.”

He laughs. “Damn. That much?”

“That much.” Eyes softening, you say in a low voice. “Thank you, Joe. Seriously.”

He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his and responds in an equally low voice. “Never have to thank me, baby. Ever.”

The food, delicious and probably insanely overpriced, comes out sooner than you anticipated. But, it doesn't stop conversation happening between the two of you. That’s always been a thing. It’s always been so easy to talk to him, to fall into a natural back and forth dialogue. 

You could talk to him for hours and never grow tired. 

That’s how everything started, really.

Friendship.

He was your friend before anything, and even if by some 0.001% chance things ever go south between you again, that’s something you could never give up. Losing him as a partner would gut you, but losing his friendship as well would destroy you.

You can’t lose him again.

Ever.

When the table is cleared and you expect him to announce you should probably head back to the villa, he instead stands and asks for your hand. “Come on. Something I want to show you.”

Curious but trusting him, you wordlessly accept his hand and allow him to lead you out of the restaurant and into the night. You’re partially expecting to take the shuttle to wherever this thing or place is that he wants to show you, but he instead walks hand in hand with you down the cobble path.It’s significantly less crowded than the daytime, but that wouldn’t make much of difference because you’re so deeply in your own little world with this man.

It really does feel like it’s just the two of you.

“I swear my boobs are already getting bigger.”

He laughs at your random statement, asking in a sly voice, “is that supposed to be a bad thing?”

Hitting him on his shoulder, Joe laughs quietly as you murmur, “you try walking around with two melons of fat on your chest, and then see if you feel the same way.” He doesn't say anything, and you instead continue to focus on the beauty around you. Disney really is ethereal. “It’s even more beautiful at night.”

“Hmmm.”

“Do you know where we’re going?” It’s a valid question considering you just realized this is the first time you’ve explored the park without the guide. Granted, you’ve yet to find something that Joe isn’t very good at outside of modern technology, so it’s not far fetched he knows exactly where he’s going.

“Now’s a fine time to ask.”

Slapping his arm, you move into playfully defensive mode. “I have an excuse. I have baby brain.” Unable to help yourself, you add on. “Babies brain, really.”

He chuckles. “I’m still not forgiven, huh?”

Giving him a sideways expression, you decide to be at least a little fair. “You’re getting there.” Slipping into a more vulnerable place, you lay your head against his arm, admitting, “I feel a lot better knowing you’ll be home the whole time.”

“Me too,” he admits. “Your mom should still come stay with us the first couple weeks.”

“I agree. One adult per baby.” You can only imagine him rolling his eyes. “But no, we have to make sure Callie doesn’t start to feel neglected. I have a feeling she’s gonna get a little jealous when she realizes she has to share your attention with the babies.”

He sounds a bit on the defensive side himself as he reminds, “I have more than enough attention and love for any and all of our kids.” 

“I know, baby, but with how attached she is to you, on top of how young she is, that may be hard for her to grasp at first.”

It’s something you’ve thought about a lot just watching her interact with Joe these past couple days. She’s gotten used to not having to share him with anyone. With you, yes, but not with any other kids, any other siblings. She’s excited about being a big sister, yes, but you wonder how that transition into actually being a big sister could be for her.

He seems to understand where you’re coming from now. “We’ll just have to talk with her.”

“I agree.”

A couple minutes later, you’re gasping and smiling when you realize where he’s taking you. You drop your hands from his arms and reach for his hand, leading him in the direction of one of the best things you’ve seen thus far.

“It’s Cinderella’s wishing well.”

You’ve seen a couple of TikToks talking about how this is something that doesn’t get as much attention but is just as adorable as everything else. And they’re right, the design, the location so that it’s right in the perfect view of the castle.

It’s so perfect.

Of course, he has to ruin the mood by asking, “Cinderella is the black and white movie one, right?”

“Joe, none of the Disney movies you’ve seen were in black and white.” Granted, you can see why he would think that given the age of Cinderella. The animation and even voice acting are pretty aged. “This might have been the one you fell asleep on.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Baby, you were knocked out. You and your lil twin. I think I have the photo on my phone to prove it.” Reaching for your phone to show him the proof, you’re stopped by his hand on your arm. “What?”

He then turns his hand over, revealing a coin. His voice is suddenly lower, almost quieter than it was a couple minutes ago. “Make a wish.”

“Seriously?” That’s also something else you read, the fact that the wishing well is a real, actual well that visitors tend to drop a coin and make a wish with in the hopes of dreams coming true. “Joe, my ass is too old to be making a wish.”

He shakes his head, eyes so soft and focused on you. “Just….just do it.”

The strange shift in his tone, volume, and even expression takes you off guard a bit, but you could also just be looking too into things. “Okay.” Snapping your purse back closed, you accept the coin and move closer to the well. Because of the well lit spotlight, you can see a set of coins already at the bottom. 

It takes a second for you to think about just what to wish for. 

And that’s significantly difficult because there is nothing for you to wish for.

You have everything you could have ever wanted.

It takes a minute, but you finally settle on a wish. You close your eyes, take a nice, efficient breath and flip it into the well with the rest of the wishes. 

Smiling, you turn back around, ready to peer pressure him into making a wish as well. “Alright, now it’s your—”

The sentence is cut premature because of a very good reason, a reason that has your hand over your mouth, your eyes watering and your stomach doing fucking somersaults.

Being in a committed relationship with Joe was something you once dreamed about and somehow became a reality that still stuns you.

Disney has been an unexpected dream you also never imagined would be as spectacular as he’s made it. 

Joe sacrificing his title to spend time with you and Callie knocked the wind out of you.

But this? This is most definitely something you never saw coming.

You never anticipated finding Joe Anoa'i kneeled down on one knee, a small, red square box that reads Cartier in gold writing in his hand that holds the kind of promise and vow of love that’s meant to withstand time.

It’s a miracle your legs don’t give out from underneath you. “Leati…”

“I love you, Y/N. I love you in a way that I really don’t know to accurately describe and help you understand. You’re more than just the mother of my children, you’re my best friend. You were there supporting and encouraging me when I needed it the most. Everything I have now, everything I’ve accomplished, it’s because of you.”

“Baby–”

“We always talk about that time I missed out with Callie, but I didn’t just miss out on time with Callie. I missed out on time with you.” There’s no way for you to hold back the tears that partially obscure your vision as he pours his heart out to you. “And that was on me because I should have married you a long time ago. I’ve always wanted to be with you, and one of my biggest regrets will always be not fighting harder for you, for us. That time we missed out on, that’s on me.”

The emotions coursing through your body is a deep, visceral experience you’ve never encountered. It’s equally wonderful as it is terrifying. At this point, you’re just full on sobbing, no doubt your pregnancy hormones making this emotional moment heavier than what it already is.

Joe is suddenly standing before you, gently lowering your hands and raising your chin to bring your gaze back onto him.

“I should have been honest about my marriage with Jadah. It would have saved all of us a lot of heartache.” He looks so regretful, so remorseful. “Those five years may have never happened, but I can’t change that. What I can change though is how the rest of our lives play out, and I don’t want to do life without you. There is no me without you, Y/N. She was never my person. You are.”

Your eyes are closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you always. Whatever you want, I’ll do. Whatever you need, I’ll provide. I told you before all I needed was for you to say yes when I ask, so I’m asking, please say yes.” You look down to see he’s opened the ring box, revealing the most stunning engagement ring to ever exist. It’s absolutely perfect. “Marry me, Y/N.”

And like the night of WrestleMania, you’re putting all the pieces together. His comment about saying yes, suddenly moving up the Disney trip, your mom wanting you to look perfect.

This was his plan all along.

A proposal.

A proposal at Disney World of all places. 

His final question returns to the front of your mind, and it’s solely because of the hot, emotional mess you are that you don’t answer right away.

You had said answer the minute you saw this man on one knee.

“Yes.” His shoulders visibly relax, and it’s only then that you can see how nervous he was about this. How he could ever question himself is beyond you. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do or give to this man. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”

Joe wastes no time in sliding the stunning, expensive looking ring on your finger, and you’re so in awe. “Oh my god, Joe, it’s so beautiful.” And it is. It’s exactly the kind of ring you’ve always dreamed about but never thought you would ever receive.

“I had it made in November.” Your chest tightens. That was so long ago. “And I’ve wanted to propose to you so many times in between then and now, but you deserved your dream proposal. I wanted to make it as special for you as I could, because it’s the least I could do after making you wait for so long.”

“Joe……” Another set of tears of cascades as you reach up to hug him again, not knowing if there are truly accurate enough words to describe your happiness in this moment. “I love you.” It’s such a simple but weighty thing. No one could ever understand the depth of your love for this man. 

“I love you too.” He moves his hands to your hips as you release him from the hug, hands planted on his chest. “Am I forgiven now?”

Laughing, you shake your head, “yeah….you’re definitely forgiven.” Forever the brat, you can’t avoid using the stipulation. “For now.”

He just rolls his eyes, moving to take your hand as he nods back in the direction of where you’d walked. “Come on.”

Walking and being so close to him helps to settle you. Well, as much as possible considering you just got the surprise of your damn life.

Your body is pressed against his when a thought crosses your mind. “Oh my god, does Callie know?”

“Of course. I had to ask her permission.”

“You should have known that was a no brainer.” It must have been a beautiful, mushy sight to witness. Him asking his little girl for permission to marry her mommy. Callie was probably through the moon. “That and my mama.” Joe is old fashioned in the sense that you can’t see him not also asking for permission from your mom, and he confirms as such. 

“She loves me.” He’s so smug in how he says it too. 

But, he’s not wrong. “I swear, if she wasn’t my mama, she might try to take you from you.”

His voice is calm and collected as he assures. “That ain’t ever happening.”

Granted, that assurance isn’t needed because this man is stuck with you for life now. “Ya damn straight it’s not. All these kids we about to have? I wish you would try to leave me for some white woman who stans Taylor Swift. I’ll call Alexis crazy ass and we jumping you and her.”

He runs his thumb over your knuckles. “You ain’t ever gotta worry about that.” He then asks, “you talked to her yet about being Callie’s godmother?”

“Not yet, but I will. I can’t see her saying no. She never stays in one place for too long, but I know for a fact if she ever needed to take Calista for any reason, she’d settle down in a heartbeat.”

“I agree.” 

It’s a conversation that first came up after the Mariah nightmare and re-emerged after you started the process of removing her as Callie’s legal godmother. Alexis has been a rock for you this past couple months, Callie loves and trusts her, as do you. Joe also feels like she would be the perfect person to take on that special role. 

It’s definitely something you want to discuss with her when you get back from the trip.

Joe leads the two of you back into the castle, but you’re confused when he walks past the room you two dined in and reaches for another door. “Wait, why are we—”

 “Surprise!”

Hands covering your face, you’re buried into Joe as he laughs softly, kissing the top of your head. 

Getting proposed to at Disney essentially in front of Cinderella’s castle was the definition of a plot twist you never saw coming, but having all of your closest friends and family present for a surprise engagement party is beyond a plot twist.

It’s a dream.

Familiar and loved faces fill your vision when you finally pull away from Joe, still blotting the tears away. The room is decorated beautifully, Disney themed, blues and pinks, but it’s the people you care the most about that make it all the more special.

And inarguably your favorite little human being is suddenly running over to you, hugging your legs. “Mommy! Did you say yes?”

The fact that all these people are here is confirmation enough that they all knew what was happening tonight. That they’ve probably been known the same way they knew Joe wasn’t retaining at WrestleMania.

But, the fact that Callie knew does something to you. Makes you even more of an emotional mess.

Sniffling, you lean down and lift your left hand for her to see. “Of course, I said yes, baby!”

Gasping loudly, Callie turns to the group and shouts. “Mommy said yes!”

Laughing at her excitement morphs into laughing at the general responses to said announcement.

“Tag, you’re it!”

“It’s about damn time!”

“My baby’s getting married!”

“She better have said yes! These tickets were expensive!”

“Cue the music!”

The following exclamation is followed up with an old but familiar song filling the room.

Hey now

Hey now

It’s such a nostalgic yet hopeful experience. Celebrating your future with a song that so perfectly encapsulates the magic of the past.

Joining the group that unintentionally seems to separate between women, men, and kids, you’re met with hugs and continued congratulations, but it’s the one from Jadah, the way she whispers in your ear, “you deserve this,” that really does something to your soul. 

Pulling away, you take her hands in yours, giving a squeeze. “Thank you.”

She just gives you a wink, snapping back into her typical sarcastic space as she says, “just don’t think I’m gonna show up for all these special events all the time. I have a lovely lady back home I gotta get back to.”

“You should have brought her!” You’d be so honored to meet the woman who captured Jadah’s heart.

“Next time,” she smirks. You plan to hold her to that.

“Maybe we can have it at my place or something. An informal housewarming party.” Alexis joining the conversation isn’t surprising nor an issue, but her suggestion does confuse you.

“What do you mean housewarming?”

Rolling her pretty eyes, she informs, “I got tired of you coming after me and my non-commitment, so I may or may not have signed a lease for a townhouse about ten minutes out from your place.” An equally shocked and loud gasp leaves your mouth as you again have to fight back more tears. This whole night has been nothing but surprises back to back. “Someone’s gotta be around to help you with this village of children you got floating around in your uterus”

“Alexis…..” You pull her into a hug that lasts longer than the one with Jadah and even Bianca. A sister. Bianca may be your biological sister, but Alexis is your chosen sister.

“Yeah, yeah.” She’s never been the emotional type, but you don’t miss the gleam in her eyes as well as she redirects. “Alexis from Texas is officially moving to Florida!”

It’s the way almost all of the guys' heads snap in the direction of Alexis at her exclamation that makes you roll your eyes but the rest of the ladies feel some type of way.

“And how do you know who Alexis Texas is?” Bianca is the first to ask, which is understandable given Darius was the first to look with intrigue.

But, he’s saved when one of the kids calls out, “who is Alexis Texas?” and all of the adults wisely pivot the conversation, Trinity taking the lead.

“Let’s dance!”

That doesn’t need to be said twice, Kaylah being the one to match your energy the most as you both have a bit of a higher love of Disney than the others. Except one.

Callie suddenly runs up to you, tugging on the side of your dress. “Dance party!”

Laughing, you take her hands in yours, dancing with her, her happy laughter even more melodic and healing as the song playing in the room. 

I've got somewhere I belong

I got somebody to love

This is what dreams are made of

And it’s in the way the lyrics really hit you, the way you and Joe connect eyes and he mouths ‘I love you’ that something crashes into you with all of the heaviness of a life changing realization.

This…..

This is what you always wanted. 

Not to be married, per se.

Not to have that coveted title of being a wife,, the stereotypical white picket fence and husband who clocks in 9 to 5.

All of that is fine and having Joe’s last name truly will mean a lot to you, but it’s not the end goal you always thought it was.

The end goal was to simply be happy.

And as it turns out, that happiness comes in not just the form you’ve always been taught and fed by the media and stories where the prince rushes in and saves the princess. 

You’ve learned that love isn’t just romantic, isn’t just two people devoting and pledging their love and loyalty to one another for forever. That’s part of it, yes, maybe. 

But not all of it. 

It’s the way Joe looks at Callie at any given moment.

It’s the way Callie’s face lights up whenever she’s with you or Joe.

It’s the joy that fills your body when you think of the life, the lives, growing inside you, expanding the family you’ve always wanted, the family Joe has always wanted.

It’s the way the people you love and appreciate the most gathered here tonight to help celebrate such a special occasion, the start of a new, fresh, happy chapter. 

Love is all around.

People just have to find it.

The same way you found yours.

The End

authors note: welp, that's it for book one of reader and joe's story! thank you all so so sooooo much for giving my story a chance and seeing it through this far. 🥺❤️ sincerely never imagined so many people would read/be interested, so thanks a bunch 🥺🥺🥺

i'm also open to suggestions for if our good sis should have all girls, all boys, a mix-up......there's options, clearly. names as well 😅

i will be continuing the next chapter of their story in a sequel titled, 'without you.' i will continue to tag the same people, unless you'd prefer to leave their story as it is here, then please let me know, and i won't tag you. i truly hope you enjoyed the conclusion to part one! 🥺❤️ the first chapter should be up in the next two weeks for book 2!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Seven Deadly Sins pop-up event.

Some Real Good

Prompt: Gluttony | Word Count: 1313 | Rating: T | CW: Alcohol Consumption | POV: Gareth | Relationship(s): Gareth & Eddie BFFs, Background Steddie | Tags: Corroded Coffin on Tour, Bus Travel, Road Manager Steve Harrington, Eddie: The Magpie, Gareth & Steve: Who Love Him Anyway

"What do you have in here, bricks?" Gareth asks, picking up one of Eddie's duffle bags, trying to wrangle it up into the open storage bin under the bus. It's not easy. For some reason Eddie's stuffed the fucker completely full today, and it's unwieldy.

"Yep. And sex toys," Eddie quips, and Gareth rolls his eyes. Unfortunately, Gareth knows that's not where Eddie keeps all the dirty shit he travels with. Because Gareth's seen it all, even if he wishes otherwise.

Eddie finally gets it wedged underneath, and they can roll out.

Meaning, Gareth forgets about the overfilled luggage, until the same thing happens at the next stop. It's definitely not going under there this time, because Gareth swears it's getting bulkier by the stop. 

Eddie's trying to re-zip the damn thing after rearranging, and it's clearly not going well. 

Gareth moves to squeeze both sides together so Eddie can zip it easier, when he catches sight of what's inside. 

"What the fuck?" Gareth says, letting go and picking up a travel size bar of soap, surely from one of the many hotel rooms they've stayed in. He digs his hand in, combing through the mess of small, plastic bottles. It's filled to the absolute brim with travel toiletries, and a variety of shit from green rooms. Mini liquor bottles from airplanes.

Eddie snatches the bag back from Gareth's hands, "They're free. We're supposed to take them." 

"No, we're supposed to use them if we need them. Which I know you don't. I've seen your bathroom bag."

It's definitely fully stocked.

"Well, someday I might need them," Eddie argues.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie. No you won't. This is insane, even for you."

Eddie's part magpie, they all know that, but this is a bridge too far.

"You never know," Eddie says, like he's being sane and rational. He's being neither.

"How is this - you - hoarding them under the bus any better than just leaving them behind? They still aren't being used, Eddie. And now we're just the ones lugging them around."

"I want them," Eddie argues and Gareth's hands find his own hair, pulling. Eddie can rarely be rationalized with on a good day, but this is beyond. 

"You will never need these. We can buy shampoo and soap. We do buy shampoo and soap. In appropriate quantities and in brands we actually like. You damn well know Steve has never once let any of us run out. The minute I toss an empty, a new one magically appears. Which, awesome. But also scary, because that means your boyfriend knows far too much about what I do in the bathroom."

Eddie smiles, but then is clearly headed back towards making excuses for his insane life decisions. His gluttony. His hoarding. 

"But-" 

Gareth pivots. He might not be able to reason with a crazy Eddie, but he knows someone who can, does, "Does Steve know about this? Because he's gonna shit."

And he will. Steve doesn't stand for superfluous anything on the road. He has everything down to a science. Last week he even made Gareth get rid of one of his jackets, because he'd apparently crossed the threshold of the acceptable amount of luggage, at least as far as Steve was concerned. 

Gareth liked that jacket.

So, Eddie squirreling away all the soap he can carry for no damn good reason? Not efficient in the slightest. Steve can't know about this, and he's gonna be pissed when he finds out. For sure.

"Just help me unload it," Eddie demands, and before he can ask what he means by that, Eddie slides forward the sticker-laden dead with the warped lid. Instead of tossing it, Goodie wants it fixed, so it's been taking up space, but when Eddie flips it open, it's absolutely jam-packed with more of his secret stash. 

"Oh my god. Wait, is this a growing up poor thing?" Gareth asks, and Eddie pauses. Gareth never wanted for anything. It may have just been the two of them, but Mama Jones had it under control.

If this is that, well, maybe Gareth could understand. Could give him a pass.

Eddie gives him a withering look, saying, "No. Wayne would hate this, too."

"Then why are you doing it? Damn," Gareth asks, laughing.

"Because we paid for it. And they just throw them away if we don't take them."

"That's crazy talk," Gareth answers.

"They do! And it's built into the price. Of the hotel rooms. The flights. The gig contracts."

"Eddie," Gareth says, then changes tactics. "Fine. I'm sure that's true. But, just. Move. Let me," Gareth says, nudging Eddie off to the side. "Get on the bus."

And somehow, Eddie listens, and does.

When Steve sidles up to him, and sees the red milk crates surrounding Gareth's feet in the hotel parking lot, Gareth sorting the loot, he's instantly irritated, "What're you doing? What's all this doing here?" Steve asks, arms waving. "For fuck's sake, Gareth, what have you been taking all this shit for? Do you know how much this extra weight affects gas mileage?"

And Steve seems to be doing that math in his head.

Gareth grinds his teeth together, "This was not me. This was Eddie."

"Oh," Steve says. Immediately changing his tune, softening, which is fucking annoying. Eddie would never have to get rid of a jacket.

Steve then asks, "What's the plan?"

Gareth nudges the crate full of liquor bottles, and they all clink together, "Day drinking?"

Steve puts his hands on his hips. 

Gareth picks up the one full of shampoo, "I was thinking about donating them to a homeless shelter or something. My mom volunteers at one back home. Says they always needed stuff like this. Eddie hoarding them isn't helping anyone, it's just as wasteful as leaving them to be tossed, right?"

And Steve pauses. Thinking.

"You can't donate liquor to the homeless," Steve says.

And Gareth laughs, "Well, I didn't mean the liquor. That we'll keep. Have some fun. I'm gonna deserve a drink or ten after sorting out this mess your boyfriend has made."

"Oh, he's my boyfriend when you don't like whatever he's doing, but your best friend any other time?"

Gareth laughs, and nudges against Steve's shoulder, "Exactly."

"Alright," Steve concedes.

Great. Awesome. Gareth had the idea, the plan, but he definitely needs Steve to be the one to figure out how to implement it.

And Steve does.

From then on, the sorted milk crates live in the under bus storage compartment. And now it's not just Eddie, no, now all of them save and throw their unused freebies into the correct ones after each stop. Soap. Shampoo. Conditioner. Lotion. And if they ask the front desk for toothbrushes or razors that they've forgotten from time to time, well, then that's their own business. 

And yeah, the liquor they keep for themselves. But they don't let it languish, hidden away. Instead they drink it, doing shots, playing cards as they rumble down the highway, getting tipsy as they cheat more and more blatantly at cards the drunker they get. It's fun. 

When a crate of toiletries gets full, Steve has a plan, a connection, of where they can donate it, wherever they currently are in the country.

It really doesn't take long for word to spread, and then there's a charitable foundation with a damn good purpose bearing Corroded Coffin's name, and several other touring bands helping. Reaching out to Steve. Their reputation precedes them: they're the heavy metal band that gives back. That they don't destroy hotel rooms, just rescue the toiletries from them that were destined for a landfill anyway.

Before long, many hotel managers start meeting them at check-in, handing over boxes of toiletries they want to donate to the cause.

Eddie's hoarding, his gluttony, turned on its head, and instead is being used for some real good.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[sunder-soul]

✦𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑✦

[read 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖛𝖊 here]

Chapter one: The lesser of the two evils Wordcount: 600 Header credit

“Someone’s making Horcruxes.”

If you’re being honest with yourself, whatever mental barrier that lies between the daily mess of to-do lists, deadlines, and humdrum Department bullshit holding back thinking about him, it’s a thin one. Gauzey, permeable, you’ll find him seeping into your mind when you’re staring off into the corner with at a half-finished report, bleeding in when you’re alone and waiting for the elevator, always with a sick sense of self-betrayal and something that stings an awful lot like shame–if you’re being honest with yourself.

A Friday evening at 4:56pm. That’s when McCollin decides to drop this news on you. It’s raining outside, a thick, thorough rain that falls restlessly over the dark city, framed by the single window in your office behind you. Both the lamp on your desk and the city below glow yellow-orange, the only lights left at this time of night so late into winter. That first promotion had come with bumping enough floors that people comment on the view whenever they step into the room, but more often than not they’re politely neglecting to comment on the fact that it’s Muggle London–not Wizarding–that you’re looking out over. It’s no secret that the Ministry maps out its favourites with the floorplan. The press on Riddle dropped off years ago and ever since, so subtle at first that you could write it off, that relentless, incremental push out of the limelight has been growing ever stronger. The job gets more menial, the promotions stop paying well, and slowly but surely new favourites sweep onto stage.

Here, tonight is where you're startled by the sudden sound of your door opening without a knock, and before you can even make some comment to McCollin he’s said the one thing that tears aside any aspersions that maybe one day you’ll be free of what happened.

“Someone’s making Horcruxes,” says McCollin.

You already know what’s coming next, you can feel it sinking fast into your stomach like you’ve stepped out into the dark, yellow-stained night.

“We’re gonna need his help,” McCollin says, and he says it with an apology already saturating every word, he says them heavily like he’s struggling to keep his head up to look you in the eye.

You stare at him, and the rain swells suddenly louder. You put down your quill and watch a bead of ink well at the nib.

The gravity of it is starting to weigh on you, too. They wouldn’t even be considering if it wasn’t already bad, if whatever they’ve been doing is far from working. They’d have to be desperate, very desperate, and you’re wondering what could make them consider their last possible option, Plan Z, what could be so monstrously bad that hauling Tom Riddle out of Azkaban to grill him about Horcruxes is the lesser of the two evils.

You’re thinking about his ring. You’re thinking about his last request. You’re thinking about dark eyes in a dark cell somewhere beneath the ocean and you’re wondering what he’ll be when they drag him out of there–half soulless? Half insane? How long has he been down there, rotting in the darkness, deep in the roots of Azkaban? How many times have you wondered that since you last saw him?

Your fingers are shaking.

“They want you there,” says McCollin, needlessly.

You already knew it. And god, god, here comes that sick shame and that self-betrayal, because somewhere beneath the dread­–if you’re being honest with yourself–you know that some part of you can’t fucking wait.

[trensu]

ETA: now on ao3 as Hawkins Halfway House for Homeless Horrors

ETA2: now with an additional snippet

okay, how's this for an AU

We know that Steve wants to be a dad. Like, his literal life dream is to have a minimum of six children. SIX. who wants that?? crazy people, that's who. but we forgive him his insanity because he's sweet and will actually probably be a really good dad and there's not enough of those in the world.

the downer is that it's the late 90s, he's a (still) single guy in his thirties, and every adoption agency on the planet would rather give their children to a heteronormative couple who don't even want kids than to a single dude who would dedicate his heart and soul to giving his kids a happy healthy home.

He's bemoaning his fate to Robin at a bar they recently discovered. It's a weird little joint, kinda tucked away on the outskirts where Steve could've sworn didn't exist just last week. The patrons were kinda weird too but neither he or Robin could put their finger on why or how. If Steve had been a little less miserable, and Robin a little less caught up in comforting him, they might've noticed how everyone else in the bar kept sneaking curious glances at them or how they somehow always kept most of their features hidden.

They didn't though. Even when they were interrupted by a handsome black gentleman who called himself Jeff. Jeff said that he couldn't help but overhear their dilemma and that he's actually part of an agency that is more open minded about potential foster or adoptive parents. Steve's a little deeper in his cups than he intended, and doesn't question that some random guy in a bar is offering him a chance of having children. Robin is not as far in her cups and finds it a bit suspicious.

She was going to say something about it but Jeff looked her in the eye and said, "Everything is fine. There's no reason to worry. I'm only trying to help."

"You're only trying to help," Robin murmured back blearily. "Everything is fine. Yeah. Yeah, 'm not worried."

Jeff gives Steve his card and tells him he can stop by the very next day if he'd like, since his schedule is open.

The next day, Steve is regretting having gotten so drunk. Not really because of the hangover (though holy shit, he is NOT twenty anymore he needs to stop drinking like one). No. It's because Jeff had just finished giving him a tour of the facility full of rambunctious children in need of a home.

Actually, that had been pretty okay even if the other adults in the facility startled at the sight of him and the children kept ducking into other rooms to hide from him.

No. It's because Jeff had just introduced him to a child named Dustin who sneezed unexpectedly and somehow turned into a kitten.

"Um," Steve said. Jeff sighed.

"Dustin hasn't gotten back control over his shapeshifting since his mother's passing, but I assure you he's been improving."

"...shapeshifting," Steve said, numbly.

"Yes. Dustin tends to go for cat shapes, like his mother did." Jeff bends down to pick up the loudly mewing tabby kitten. "We've managed to get him to shift mostly into a domestic shorthair, rather than a cougar cub."

"That's great," Steve squeaked as he tried to tamp down the growing hysteria in him. "Really, really great. Y'know what, Jeff, this whole thing's been great but I think I'm still kind of drunk so I'm just gonna go--"

"No, wait," Jeff says, quickly placing the Dustin kitten on his shoulder before reaching out to grab Steve by the elbow. "Please. Look, you seem like a good guy. I did a quick scan of you and everything, and I really think if you'd take a moment to sit down and--"

"JEFFORD BILLANY JONES."

Jeff's shoulders hunched, nearly dislodging Dustin from his shoulder. He sighed again and turned to face the man storming towards him and Steve.

"Eddy, you know none of that is my name."

"I'll call you whatever I want since for some unfathomable reason, you've brought a human into my sanctuary. Why is there a human in my home, Jeffamy."

"Eddy, let me explain."

"It's Eddie in front of the human," Eddie said.

Steve's brain was experiencing some sort of malfunction because Jeff had been calling this man Eddie, except if he concentrated, the way Jeff said Eddie and the way Eddie had said Eddie sounded very very different except it hadn't because they both sounded like Eddie except for how Jeff's Eddie sounded different from, the same as, different, just like--

A pair of ringed fingers snapped aggressively in front of his face, startling Steve from an impending aneurysm.

"You. Who are you, who sent you, what do you want."

Steve stuttered something incoherent. He's pretty sure he's had a mental break from reality. There was some sort of sentient black sludge creeping across the tiled floor, wrapping a tendril around Jeff's leg.

"What is that?" Steve squawked. Jeff beamed at him.

"Oh, this is El! She's a Monster Under the Bed. She hasn't decided on a form yet, but that's okay, we love her just as she is."

"Jeff," Eddie snapped. Jeff looked at Eddie stubbornly.

"You told me we needed all hands on deck."

"How dare you, I'd never stoop to using boat metaphors."

"Don't distract me with blatant lies. Eddy, you said we needed help. You said you'd take anyone at this point."

Steve has not been able to stop staring at the sludge creature (El?). He's beginning to realize that he can't quite remember what Jeff looked like, or any of the adults they had seen. He's noticing that some of the children that have been scampering about had looked off. Like the boy with the bowl-cut they had passed by earlier who had looked...frosty around the edges. Or the girl he thought had had red feathers in her hair but is now suspecting the feathers were something more than decorative.

Ringed fingers snap in front of his face again. Steve finally focused on the man named Eddie who was actually named Eddie which was different from Eddie somehow. Now that he's able to shove away the confusion that is this man's name, he's struck by the fact that Eddie was quite possibly the most gorgeous man Steve's ever seen. He had wide, dark eyes that made Steve think of seabeds in the deepest of waters. His hair was a riot of dark brown curls that for some reason brought to mind swirling schools of fish.

"Answer my questions," Eddie demanded. Steve blinked and, with some difficulty, remembered the previous interrogation.

"Uh, I'm Steve. Jeff invited me because I want to be a dad."

Eddie barked out a laugh.

"Oh, is that right? In that case, welcome to Hawkins' Halfway House for Homeless Horrors! I'm sure Jeff would love to finish introducing you to the rest of our children. Have you met Mike? He's a ghoul! Or Lucas! He's a werewolf and his dream is to become a basketball star. They both have very sharp teeth so watch out for their tantrums."

Jeff scowls at Eddie before turning back to Steve. Steve was starting to feel faint and he was no longer sure if he regretted drinking the night before or regretted not drinking more.

"Steve, it's okay. Eddy is making it sound scarier than it actually is. You said you wanted to be a dad, and we need foster parents that can help these kids learn how to blend in with humans. That's what the halfway house is for, but there's only so much they can learn while living in sanctuary. We need a way to have them experience the human world more directly while still keeping them safe, and I think you're the solution we've been looking for. What do you think?"

"I think I need to sit down," Steve said thinly. Eddie snorted derisively. Steve was slightly offended but honestly everything was a bit too much right now and he really would like to sit down for a moment just to process. Because monsters are real, apparently, and some of them need parents. Which was terrifying to think about but also not so much? Because all kids were little monsters some of the time right? If Steve could have a moment to get his bearings...

"This was a terrible idea, Jeffathan."

"I think it was a great idea, actually. I really think this could work."

"No. I forbid it. Don't do this again."

Then there was a sweet and beautiful humming. It made the edges of Steve's mind go fuzzy and soft. He blinked slowly and looked for the source of the sound. Eddie stared at him intently and when he spoke, his voice was like music.

"Steve," Eddie said. "Steve, do you want to make me happy?"

Steve nodded dumbly. He wanted that more than anything in the whole world. He wanted to make Eddie smile. He wanted Eddie to never stop singing.

"It would make me very happy if you went home and forgot everything you saw here today," Eddie continued.

Steve made a sad sound. He didn't want to forget. He didn't want to forget beautiful, gorgeous Eddie and this place that could make his dream come true.

"Please, Steve," Eddie's lyrical voice took on an aching mournful tone. "If you don't, you'll break my heart. I'll never be happy again."

The sadness in the song made Steve feel like the world was ending. Eddie couldn't be sad! Steve would rather die than make Eddie sad!

"I forget," Steve mumbled through the fog in his mind. "And you'll be happy?"

"So happy. I'd be the happiest man alive if you do that one little thing for me, my sweet Steve."

Steve nods again. "Okay."

"Good boy," Eddie croons. Steve felt like he swallowed the sun at those words. He followed Eddie as Eddie guided him through the halfway house. Eddie hummed his lovely song the entire way.

"Go home and forget," Eddie sang one last time as he helped Steve get behind the wheel of his car.

"Yeah," Steve replied dreamily and drove away.

--

The telephone rang shrilly through his apartment. Steve stumbled out of bed and picked up, only fumbling it a little bit.

"H'llo?"

"Steve, what the hell, I've been trying to get a hold of you all day! Where have you been?" Robin's voice rang out, making Steve flinch. He scrubbed his free hand over his face tiredly.

"Home? I just woke up," Steve said. It was weird that he was fully dressed, he thought dazedly, but it wouldn't be the first time he's passed out drunk in his street clothes. Was he wearing this shirt yesterday? He could've sworn he'd worn the navy one.

"What? Just now? It's like five in the evening!"

"Huh. That'd explain the weird dream," Steve mumbled.

"Was it the one where you get seduced by a giant squid? Because I don't need to know more about your weird tentacle fetish."

"I don't have a tentacle fetish! I had the dream ONE time, and I wasn't being seduced, I was getting drowned and it was terrifying!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to."

"Whatever, this one was weirder anyway."

"I find that hard to believe but now I'm morbidly curious. Hit me with it."

"...I don't remember."

"There goes my entertainment for the evening."

"Was there a reason you called, Robin?"

"Yes! I met this girl named Chrissy and I swear Steve, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen..."

Beautiful. Steve had the faint impression of dark eyes and silver rings, but it was quickly washed away like a child's sandcastle in the tide under the onslaught of Robin's ramblings. As he listened to his best friend, he couldn't help but feel there was something he'd forgotten. There was something he'd been planning on doing today, wasn't there...?

...oh, well. If it was really important, he'd remember eventually.

[sphireath-wisp]

#Yes or... yes!

Sypnosis: "Hey boy! Look, I'm gonna make this simple for you. You got two choices: yes or... yes!" How they'd confess to you/How you'd confess to them + what lead up to the confession.

Warnings: Not proofread, trying a different format, situationship for Nagi, Quite long... I suppose

Featuring: Seishiro Nagi, Yoichi Isagi x GN! reader

SEISHIRO NAGI... your seatmate at the back of the class who gives you blatant glances across the table and gives no thought to being secretive and shy. You can feel his eyes cemented to you when you fidget with the rings adorning your fingers, when you take a sip of your water, when you bounce your leg up and down nervously the moment your eyes lock with his for a slight moment in class - and the aftermath: your poor mind is thrown into a state of overdrive under his gaze.

You can't tell what he's thinking and it's even worse because of his painfully neutral expression, the same one you've always seen on his face, the same one that leans down to your level and oh-so-close to your face to whisper things in your ear. It's agonizing, really. You can't read this guy and it drives you insane.

SEISHIRO NAGI... who gives you compliments - and it's horrible because you can't tell whether he's genuine. "Wow, you're so observant, (Name)," His eyebrows shoot up slightly, spine straightening to catch a cold can of ice lemon tea you got for him after a short coughing fit. "Thanks." He'd mumble out and practically chug the drink down, a mix of sweet and sour lingering on the base of his tongue before he noticed that you didn't have a drink for yourself.

His fingers - cold to the touch thanks to the ice lemon tea - snake around your waist when you're about to leave him. His fingers intertwine and cage you in his arms, head resting on your shoulder when he figures he's used up all of his willpower pulling you closer. "Let's go get more drinks," it's more of an order than a request, to be honest, but how could you say no? Any longer in that position and you'd melt like butter in his grasp.

Your body relaxes when you feel him slowly let go, not to mention the tension you were storing in your jaw and chest. However, being observant backfires on you when his hands lightly hold your waist, fingers digging the flesh of your hip as if he didn't want to leave you. "You're paying," His voice isn't a good enough distraction from your rapid heartbeat, its reverberations intense against your ribs. "Okay," you say without thinking and he finally is off you.

SEISHIRO NAGI... who finds every excuse to ask you for help. Ranging from homework to helping him clean up after school, you've accepted the tolling task of befriending him and he likes you too much to let you run off. It's not a big deal if you say no and don't help him, but in all honesty, he's oblivious to the fact that he just wants you around.

"Can you stay after school and help me with this school project I have for history?" He watches the way your face scrunches up and understands you're hesitant immediately. "Can't, I have stuff to do at home. I'll go home first without you, then, 'kay?"

He mimics your reluctant expression, lips painted in a sharper frown. "...I'll go home with you," he answers without even a moment slipping by, barely putting any thought into it.

"Huh? What about your project?" He's already dragging his feet to the school gates by the time you ask. "Another day."

SEISHIRO NAGI... who gets incessantly questioned by Reo the moment he picks up on you and Nagi's dynamic. Nagi always forgets to return your pen but constantly keeps it safe... you're always sitting next to him at lunch and ordering an extra side dish to share with him because he's too preoccupied with games to buy food... it's way too obvious for Reo to let slide!

"Are you sure you don't have feelings for (Name)?" Reo hums, a hand on his chin as you walk off into the distance. Nagi's eyes are still on you, his game paused in his hands and waiting until you're out of sight before resuming the round. "Yea," Nagi states, as if he's sure about it.

"So, you're just friends?" Nagi purses his lips as he nods, finding it a little harder than usual to stomach the idea of being just... a friend to you. "You're totally okay if (Name) finds someone else? I've seen them hanging out a lot with that new transfer kid."

His mood instantly sours, turning rotten in a matter of moments and Reo sees it. His mind drifts elsewhere other than the game and, inevitably, trumpets play when he loses the match. Reo chuckles, lightheartedly patting Nagi on the back. "Are you still positive you don't like (Name)?"

"...dunno."

SEISHIRO NAGI... who calls you at ungodly hours, mumbling about what Reo has been insinuating. He follows his words with a tired sigh, phone propped against the headboard of his bed. There's a short silence between the both of you before you begin, "Yeah, haha... that's crazy."

You pause and, for a slight moment, you entertain the idea of Nagi actually liking you in that way, "...what else did Reo say?"

"Kept saying I was staring at you... I don't know what was up with Reo." Nagi shifts around on his bed, glancing at you... or at least the image of you on his screen.

"Something the matter?" You yawn.

"...nothing, you just look different in dark lighting."

"Really? I didn't expect you to notice details like that."

"Yeah, I guess, but anyone would notice minor stuff like that."

"Is me looking different a bad thing?"

"No... not really. You still look the same, kinda." His voice quietens down, dropping a volume. It becomes less monotone and he sounds more unsure as if he doesn't know what to say next or how to string his words together properly - a rare case for him since, for the most part, he just bluntly says what's on his mind without any filter.

SEISHIRO NAGI... who decides it's a hassle to mull over it.

"Do you like me, (Name)?" He abruptly starts and you froze at his straightforwardness. Your breathing hitched. The gears in your head finally began to turn again after a moment of registering his ridiculously sudden question; it was like he was trying to catch you off guard.

Heat crawled up your neck, gathering at the apple of your cheeks - you internally thank how dark your room is.

"Woah, what? That's sudden."

"...do you actually like me, (Name)?"

You gulp. Lying would twist your gut in an unnerving way and leave you with regret for days... but would that be any worse than being left heartbroken?

"Is that a yes?" Nagi interrupts the silence, taking your lack of response as a non-verbal 'yes'. You avoid looking at your phone screen. "...I guess."

"Hey wait, don't turn off your camera." Nagi huffs, rolling over onto his stomach. "You know, Reo's usually right about these kinds of things and I get this nagging feeling that this is a good time to say this. I'm pretty sure I like you too."

You blink, it wasn't as romantic or dreamy as you hoped... but you're talking to Nagi, so what could you expect? A breath of relief unexpectedly releases - a breath you had no idea you were holding back.

"That was way less romantic than I expected it to be," you admit, soft chuckles following suit.

"Confessions are supposed to be romantic? I don't know much about sappy things like this... Reo's more experienced."

"Right... I'm your first, right?"

"We're dating?"

"Something wrong with that?"

"No. I like you a lot. That's all I need to be sure of, right?"

You smile - an image that burns into Nagi's memory. Hey, that look is perfect on you. "Yeah, that's it."

YOICHI ISAGI... your childhood best friend who scored a spot in the same school as you. The type of guy who punches the air and whispers a never-ending chain of 'yes-yes-yes' when he feels lady luck smiling down on him. He's your stereotypical nice guy, but when he dislikes someone... he means it with his whole heart.

The guy that falls in love easily, but strangely, he never falls hard. Given the number of crushes you've heard him sing praises about, it always ended with him saying that he 'realized they weren't a good match' or 'wasn't ready to date'.

It was strange. He never seemed like the type to have fleeting crushes.

YOICHI ISAGI... who slots himself effortlessly into a newfound group of classmates in the first week of school. Can you blame him? He's approachable, friendly, respectable, and... honestly, just a pleasant guy to be around. It's no wonder people gravitated to him. The process of befriending Isagi is seamless.

He's made such a good impression on his peers that they recognize him as a familiar face in the first few days to stick with until they've accustomed themself to this new environment - truly a moth to the flame. However, his fellow classmates have noticed that there's a recurring pattern whenever they decide to latch onto Yoichi; it's that you have a habit of glueing yourself to him as well.

Wherever he went, you were there; right by his side. Or perhaps, speculation suggests that he's your little loyal puppy and not the other way around. The moment you stood up from your seat in the canteen, he followed suit, hands pawing at your wrist and asking where you were headed.

YOICHI ISAGI... who remembers little details about you to the point that people around the two of you have to pause and ask, "Are you two a thing?" multiple times a day. The pure disbelief on their face was entertaining at first, but the questioning escalated to pestering and teasing.

High school sweetheart Isagi here has gotten used to it, laughing it off with a tinge of pink dusted on his cheeks as he brushes them off again. He'd scratch the back of his neck, shrinking back into his own space instead of invading your own bubble (something you didn't mind at all). "No, no... we're not like that." Isagi would insist.

You can't help but feel a little disheartened when you hear his answer.

YOICHI ISAGI... who seems like he was pulled straight out of a teen rom-com movie. The shift in weight when you both bump shoulders while sitting next to each other, the slight touch when you both coincidentally reach for the same thing, the silence that burns from the heavy tension to the skin of your cheeks; it's surreal.

He's not remarkably poetic with words. He's not grandiose with gestures. Perhaps you saw the principle and moral behind all of his little deeds. He picked up your pen for you - he's helpful. He gives the best hugs - he's warm, safe, and comforting. He has this look in his eyes, a look of adoration whenever you begin to speak - it's enchanting. And his body naturally curves to face you, to give you his full attention - he's more handsome up close.

Wait, what are you thinking?

When you eventually did face reality and connected the dots, nothing changed. The world didn't end. Your universe didn't shatter. This revelation changed nothing about the way you've been treating him. Are you even sure you're in love with him?

Or perhaps you had already fallen too deep from the very beginning.

YOICHI ISAGI... who gets egged on by his friends. They eagerly boost him in your direction with a push, nudging him with their elbows, cheering him on as he awkwardly holds a small bouquet of roses for you.

You gasp audibly, your own bunch of friends giggling and giving you their own light shove forward. Was this planned?! This is way too perfect to be a coincidence.

You latch onto him, feet flat on solid ground once more as you straighten your spine. Your gaze locks with Isagi's. Your hands are on his shoulders. Your lips are dangerously inches away from his.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Can I be yours?" He interrupts, hands dropping the bouquet to hold you in place by your waist. At this point, there's a crowd gathering to spectate. Your grip on his shoulder tightens. He squeezes your waist gently, as if a message of reassurance, as if a reminder to be honest to him and, more importantly, yourself.

"Am I fleeting crush number 6?" You chuckle.

"You're the love of my life, my number 1."

You could die from the cheesiness, but contradictiously, you feel yourself melting deeper into his arms. After barely any consideration, partially because you already knew the answer your heart desired, you sigh.

"You've got yourself a date." and that cute gleam in his eyes reappeared once more.

Taglist: @dewwberry, @van1lla-alt, @mikmwehehe

[gremlin-bot]

Sleep Deprivation Should Not Be The Reason Here

This is a prompt fill for this prompt from @stealingyourbones!!

Ao3 link: Here

Tim is fighting his body. The cursed thing needs sleep and he simply doesn't have the time for it. He just needs another day of being awake, he'll have the case closed by then and all the reports wrapped up. Wait, he has that investor meeting scheduled in what would be his recovery time. He can't push that back again. 

Tim blinks hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. He has been up for… three, no four days now. He entirely blames the death cult that had entered Gotham. If those bitches had just waited like a week to start shit he would have been fine, but no! Zatanna is off-world and Constantine has a curse on him that won't let him leave the house of mysteries, much less enter Gotham. Luckily, he can still call to get advice from both.

He can feel himself slipping into sleep like he can't fucking do. He snaps his eyes open and grabs for his 9th cup of coffee, only to find it empty. 

…

Fuck it! If this is how he has to live right now, he's gonna fucking change it! He can dabble with eldritch beings beyond comprehension too—and do it even better! 

The cult wasn't even up to date on what they were trying to summon. Unlike Tim, who just so happens to have gotten his hands on the instructions for the right summoning ritual for the Ghost King and was about to fucking use it.

He gets up from the Batcomputer and heads up to the kitchen to grab the supplies he needs. He was lucky Alfred was out grabbing groceries, otherwise he would have never been able to get anywhere near the older man's kitchen. He takes the leftover Alfredo from the fridge and puts it into a small pot to warm on the stove. All he needs now is to grab silver and gold sharpies, a small candle, and one of the giant rolls of paper he used to draft blueprints. If he was at his apartment he would just draw it on the floor, but he's not risking any more of Alfred's disappointment and wrath today.

He checks on the pasta, seeing that it's warm enough, then he prepares two bowls. If he was making a meal for an occult being he sure as hell was getting some himself. 

He puts the food aside and works on drawing the array in silver and gold. After he finished the center of the array he couldn't help but feel that it looked strangely familiar. Not that he has seen this exact array before this whole mess, but by the fact it looks like some type of writing he's seen… Holy fuck it's Gallifreyan. What kind of nerd is the ghost king if they are using Gallifreyan as their summoning array? 

He shakes his head. He needs to focus and finish adding the symbols on the outside of the Gallifreyan. He looks back at the instructions to make sure he was copying it correctly when he spots it. The last bit of this array is the First Ones language from She-ra. Tim has decided this is fine, and he just won't think about it. 

He was thinking about it.

Why was this summoning like this? No wonder the death cult doesn't have the right fucking summoning. Who in their right mind would think an extradimensional death deity would have their array be made out of fake fucking languages from different TV shows. He has so many questions that he doesn't have time for.

Tim takes a deep breath, clearing his mind the best he can. He just needs to get through this, ignore the fact that whoever set up the summoning ritual is a giant fucking nerd. He reads the next set of instructions. . . 

He is going insane, he is fucking sure of it.

The fucking instructions say that the array is in several different languages and that to finish the summoning he needs to translate. He then needs to say it out loud, starting from the outside going in. Looks like he'll need to break out the First One’s translator he has saved on his phone. Luckily, he has Gallifreyan memorized (for the most part). 

Tim sets the offering in the middle of the array, placing his own bowl on the floor next to him. He takes a deep breath. The translations weigh heavy on the tip of his tongue, despite how ridiculous all of this is. Now he just has to hold back his giggles.

“Pluto is a planet. Get fucked, losers.'' As the words enter the air the summoning circle grows a lazarus green. After a couple curious moments there's a popping noise, as if someone opened a wine bottle, and there is a figure sitting across from him. 

The figure is a humanoid male with short, shaggy white hair that blows in a nonexistent wind. Their long legs are crossed as they hover a few inches from the floor. The clothes weren't too strange, just a black tight fitting jumpsuit with gray accents. It showed off their lean muscles, which Tim shouldn’t be focusing on. He has a deal to make!!

Their burring green eyes gaze around the room before landing on the offered food. Their face lights up with a fanged grin. The other’s excitement was almost contagious as they start eating. Tim follows the other’s lead and dings in himself. God, Alfred’s cooking is so good.

“Oh, fuck yeah!! I was craving alfredo!” They say around a mouth full of food.

“I’m glad it was something you like. I was worried that you’d hate it and this whole thing wouldn’t work,” Tim’s voice seemed to snap the being to full attention.

“Shit. Sorry about getting distracted there. You summoned me?”

“Yeah, I want to make a deal to-” 

“Okay wait,” the white haired being interrupted. “Before we get into this I have to place some ground rules.” 

“Of course.” Tim expected this, Nothing came without compilation after all.

“Good, first I am allowed to deny any request and or offering. Second, all deals are final once fulfilled. Finally, anything relating to the manipulation of time is off limits. I’m still cleaning up from the last time I did one, and I’d just rather not deal with that,” the other said while gesturing with his hands almost spilling his bowl.

“Is that all?” Tim asked skeptically. 

“Yep! You can make your request now.”

“I want to not have to sleep ever again. I need to make myself clear with you on this, I still want to have the ability to sleep but for it to not be something that I need to do to live healthy,” Tim stares the (presumed) ghost in the eyes, waiting for their response.

“Oh, that’ll be no problem, but what will you offer in return?” They stare back at him, burning green into his soul.

Something in Tim knows that the king wouldn’t accept his soul as an offering. After all, they didn’t even ask for any blood in their summoning, why would they want something like that now. He has to think of something different and quick, Alfred should be home soon. He should have moved this out of the kitchen… Wait.

He has an idea.

“How about in return, I take you out to get food? It can be from anywhere you want in the whole world, just give me time to set up reservations.” Tim offers, hoping that’ll work.

“And you’ll be paying,” the other asks with a raised eyebrow and soft grin.

“Of course!” 

“Deal!! It’s a date,” Tim blinks a couple times before the meaning of the other’s statement fully hits him 

“Oh! Yeah it is. I’m Tim.” He offers out his hand.

“You can call me Danny. To most I'm High King Phantom—but you know that.” Danny banters, taking Tim’s hand. 

Their hands are bathed in green flames that warm Tim’s hands pleasantly. The deal has been struck, and Tim can’t help but notice the nervous excitement coming off the other man.

Tim likes him more already.