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millersfinest · 15 days ago

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untethered | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 7.4k

series: chapter one (you’re here!), chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: lmao flip phones, some vulgar language, ellie cheating on her gf (kind of), the millers, r is a writer, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, some physical violence, adopted kid trauma (shoutout to all the adopted kids!!), hella angst, repressed emotions, a little bit of mature content, eventual smut.

note: i have too much confidence writing for ellie. but here’s another series im starting because i realized the plot is too much for a single work on here, hence the 7 thousand words ijbol. hope you guys enjoyyy.

It was quieter upstate. Breathable and airy—you missed it more than anything. As much as you loved living in Manhattan, there was nothing like the countryside. Waking up to the sound of birds chirping and roosters crowing. Hearing the excited neighing from the horses you birthed and took care of. It was refreshing to be home again.

And, of course, you missed your parents.

They adopted you as a troubled child, and you’ve considered yourself lucky ever since. Babies and younger children were often the ones to be pulled from inconsistent foster homes, but they chose you. A pierced, attitude-ridden, thirteen-year-old who liked smoking cigarettes because they made you look cooler than you felt. And it helped you cope with the lasting effects of neglectful parents.

That trauma didn’t just disappear once Tommy and Maria entered your life. It was something that grew from nothing, and they were adamant in making your transition as comfortable as possible. You never experienced anything like it before them. Their strictness and structure did the opposite of what most would think. You went from sneaking out and smoking cigarettes to staying up late studying and finishing your favorite novels—still smoking cigarettes, though, but out your window. It was hard habit to break.

Once you realized that they could be trusted and had your best interest at heart, you gave them the right to parent you. Sure, it wasn’t easy. The three of you argued many, many times—but you respected them more than you have anyone else. Really, just for tolerating you.

The Miller’s were always very family oriented and social. Sunday nights always managed to be a grand event—Tommy grilling in the acred backyard, Maria handling the food items that could be cooked inside, and you diligently decorating and setting the table. Football Sundays were always the worst, but they were great memories to think about. That was the first time you met, basically, the love of your life at the time. Ellie Williams.

It was 1995 when you had completely fallen in love with her—only knowing her for around three years. Joel Miller wasn’t really her father, or adoptive father, he was just somebody who took care of her. He owned a guitar shop that sold, obviously, guitars and other instruments alike; as well as holding lessons for those wanted to learn how to play.

The story goes: Joel was working the register on a very slow day when Ellie showed up. There was a shiner on her eye, but she insisted that she was fine—asking for lessons with crumbled cash and dirty coins. She couldn’t afford the lessons on her own, so he gave her a job and proceeded with teaching her how to play.

She grew up similar to you; hidden under the confines of foster care. The only difference was, she was never adopted. At least not until the age of seventeen, when she’d spent so much time with Joel that she had a decorated bedroom in his house. They both had commitment issues, but after Tommy convinced him to do the paperwork… He did. Surprising her on her seventeenth birthday. However, the outcome didn’t really go to plan. Not how anyone would have expected it.

It was 1997 when she completely broke your heart… Not to be cheesy or anything.

Her seventeenth birthday was hosted at your house, on the farm. You knew her the most out of everyone, so you made it your mission to make this the best birthday ever. Decorating had become a hobby of yours after so many Sunday dinners—you spent all day stringing up lights and colorful streamers. Maria helping you out with a homemade cake that said: Happy Birthday Els! You were too anxious to write the words yourself, so you let her do it instead. You were even sure to invite the friends you shared; demanding they each brought presents to show how much they cared about her.

Joel had showed up before she did; just in time so they could all hide and jump out with big smiles on your faces when Ellie arrived. You would always remember the feeling of hearing the rumbling of her truck coming to a stop. And the shy smile on her face when everyone jumped out from behind furniture—blowing birthday kazoo’s. It was picturesque!

Dina had trotted over to her, snapping a blue paper cone birthday hat over her head. While you walked over with her birthday cake in your hands, brightened with seventeen candles. “Happy seventeenth, Ellie.” You had spoken, warmly. A bashful grin spreading onto your lips. She looked at you with such awe in that moment. Blowing out her candles and kissing your cheek, muttering a blushing ‘I fuckin’ love you’.

You knew about her surprise adoption papers before the party had started, excitement running through your veins when Joel meandered toward her—handing her an envelope of hope. Ellie took it, eyeing him, skeptically. “Open it!” You urged—that was your mistake.

Chortling, she broke open the envelope, not caring if it tore. When she pulled out the certificate, reading the words on the page, her entire face dropped. “Adoption papers?” Her eyes squinted in disgust, glaring at Joel. The smile fell from your face, lips parting in slight shock. Her olive eyes glanced around the room, seeing the fallen expressions clouding everyone’s features. Landing on your fallen face, briefly—a look exclaiming, ‘how could you’. Freckled cheeks heating up in embarrassment and… Anger. “Joel, what the fuck?” She blinked at him, shoving the papers into his chest, then storming out of the house. Hands ripping the hat from the top of head, throwing it to the ground. The screen door creaking obnoxiously as she exited. It all happened so fast.

He quickly followed her out, calling for her, desperately.

Awkwardly, you turned to the frozen people around you. “Anybody want cake? It’s german c— chocolate.” You stammered, trying to keep your composure. Looking to Maria and Tommy for some sort of consolation, you frowned, placing the cake on the counter before fleeing to the bathroom.

You clenched at the roots of your hair, pacing around the bathroom. You could hear remnants of a solo screaming match from outside the bathroom window, causing you to grit your teeth. The papers were supposed to be a good thing! Ellie had always been a hothead—easily agitated like a stray kitten is distress. There were even moments where the two of you went at it. Until one of you caved, begging for affection as an apology. Your nerves burned at the idea of her not liking the surprise—was that selfish?

Instead of remaining in the bathroom, you swung open the door with your eyes fixed on the front door. Hands clenched at your sides, you walked through the kitchen, where Tommy tried to liven up the mood by handing out pieces of cake.

He tried calling your name, but you brushed him off, pushing open the screen door with an attitude that could be felt with every step you took. The brisk autumn air hit your exposed skin, the long-sleeve striped shirt not doing much to keep you warm.

Striding around the side of the house, you seen Joel and Ellie having a stern conversation. But by the time your eyes landed on them, they were in a beat of silence. Joel shaking his head with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Ellie had her arms stubbornly crossed, frowning. When her eyes found yours, he turned around to leave. “She’s all yours…” He solemnly sighed, walking back into the house. The adoption papers crumbled up in his hands.

Biting your bottom lip, you approached her with your arms crossed for warmth. “What happened, Ellie?” Your voice dragged, tiredly. There was something always wrong with her. “We just wanted to do something nice for you… Why’d you have to go and ruin it—?”

“Oh, I’m the one who ruined it?” She scoffed, a sneer resting on her lips. “I’m not the one who brought the fucking adoption papers!” Ellie exclaimed, gesturing broadly with her hands. When she was up in arms, she always gesticulated more. “Did you have anything to do with this? Because if you did—“

You interrupted her with scrutinizing glare. “So, what if I did? I thought this would make you happy, Ellie… Don’t you understand?”

“You had me open that in front of everyone knowing what was inside— and you thought that’d make me happy?” Her lips arched in disgust. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all.” Her words were venomous, lips twitching in anger.

There was nobody who understood you more than Ellie, and vice versa. You just got each other because you came from similar backgrounds—that was your glue. You don’t know me at all. That was new.

With your eyes growing warm with tears, your tongue rolled in your mouth. “I spent all day setting this up… For you. Because I love you, Ellie. I don’t know you— that’s bullshit if I ever heard it.” Your voice cracked, but you refused to let a tear run down your cheek. This was no time for tears—if she could get angry, so could you.

“I’ve known you long enough to have some semblance of understanding on why you’re upset, right now— that’s for damn sure.” You paused, averting your eyes to concentrate on keeping your rising emotions at bay. She watched you, cheeks still red with anger. “I’m gonna give you ten minutes— ten, Ellie! If you don’t get your ass back in there in next ten fucking minutes…” You lick your lips, shaking your head. “We’re over. Done!”

Giving a final glare, you turned to head back inside. “I can’t keep dealing with this shit.” You mutter, under your breath.

“So that’s what it is… Dealing with me?” Ellie voiced, a sliver of disappointment slipping in her moment of anger.

Wiping your cheeks, you peered over your shoulder. “What?”

“You got this perfect little life… Huh?” She began, approaching you intimidatingly. “The loving parents, the farmhouse— you became the perfect daughter for them… Gets the grades, does everything she can to appease them. This fuckin’ fantasy world that you chose to live in all because you wanted someone to love you… Fuckin’ pathetic.”

“Ellie…” You warned.

“Well, newsflash, little-miss-perfect— not everybody wants that! Not everybody wants to play pretend for the rest of their fucking life just to be—“

It happened before you could stop it, fists clenching at your sides as she bad mouthed you till oblivion. Your soft spot—and she knew all about that. Both of you grew up as kids who got into fights and disputes more times than anyone could count; you just decided to clean up your act. However, that troubled twelve to thirteen-year-old still resided inside of you. And, in that moment, she wasn’t your doting girlfriend—she was someone punching down on you.

Your knuckles collided with the side of her face, knocking into her cheek bone. Features scowling as if she were a stranger. Ellie stumbled, holding onto her face with surprised eyes. For a second the version of her you loved came through, but she quickly recovered. Her lips curling at the ends, taunting you. “I knew you still had it in you… You’re no better than me.”

There it was.

Not only was it the straw that broke the camels back—it was the truth. The ultimate truth. Behind all of your petty little arguments. Behind all her wild bursts of anger. She was jealous of you. Grunting behind your teeth, you charged at her. Taking the collar of her jacket as her back hit the gravelly ground. Straddling her, you didn’t hear the rushing feet hitting the porch. You could feel her hands settling loosely on your calves, only angering you more. “I did the fucking work— nobody else but me!” Tears poured down your cheeks. “I am better than you. Because I fucking try—“

Arms pulled you off her body, wrapping around your abdomen. It was Tommy, questioning you in your ear, but you weren’t listening. “Everything went to shit because of you! Remember that!” Dina and Jesse rushed to her side, but she only sat up watching you get pulled back inside. They glared at your forced retreat—they were always more friends with her than they were with you.

Tommy released you, with a disappointed sigh. Maria walking inside, shutting the door behind her, frowning. You heaved, looking at all the decorations that mocked you. Sparkling and shining against the dim lights in the room. The barely eaten cake sat on the counter in the kitchen making fun of you—it was all too much.

“What the hell has gotten into you, y/n?!” Maria pointedly, asked. Not really wanting a response.

“What’s gotten into me?! What’s gotten into her—!” You pointed to the door as if she replaced it.

The blond man leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, bending at his hips. “Well, I don’t think it matters what’s gotten into her if you put your hands on her, Bug.” Tommy spoke, evenly. He was always the calmer of the two. “Did you… Did you put your hands on her?”

Maria stood with her hands on her hips. “What did we say about fighting—? And you don’t hit your girlfriend— you don’t hit the people that you care about!” She scolded, pointing her finger. “We raised you better than that…”

Your lips quivered, guilt setting in. “I didn’t mean to hit her! She wanted— she wanted me to… I swear!”

He glanced at his wife. “She wanted you to hit her?” Tommy deadpanned, pressing his lips into a line.

They both looked at you with separate expressions. Maria clearly overwhelmed with disappointment and utter disbelief. The same look she gave you when she caught you smoking cigarettes at the barn when you were fourteen—when you told her you quit. Tommy had an expression of pity, like he often did. That same look he gave when you had a meltdown at school when you first moved in with them.

More tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Maria… Tommy… She pushed me. Why would she do that? Why would she—“ You began to ramble, knees growing weak. Your strict mother-figure rushed to your side, catching you before you fell. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to— she was just being so mean.”

Sinking to the floor with you, her hands caressed your hair. Maria looked to Tommy, mouthing for him to go check on Ellie.

Outside, Ellie was dismissing the weary questions from her friends. She’d never seen you act in such an unruly way. Every time she came over, there wasn’t a hair that was out of place on your head. She was always the one acting out, swearing like a sailor. Sure, she knew about your smoking habit, but that was nothing.

Your girlfriend was envious of how everything was panning out for you—college was around the corner. You had an acceptance letter from your dream school, and without a doubt, you were leaving for the city. Leaving her behind to rot in the country. It wasn’t fair!

That adoption letter felt like pity. She wasn’t a fan of that feeling either.

As a bruise formed on her cheek, guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. Ellie had every intention on seeing the side of you that everyone talked about with a past tense that indicated warning. She needed to prove to herself that you weren’t the perfect person she saw you to be—but all that was left behind was remorse and a sore cheek.

She watched as Joel and Tommy stepped aside to talk. Their eyes glancing back and forth between the door and Ellie, as she leaned against her rusted red truck.

“I can’t believe she would do something like that… On your birthday?” Dina shook her head, with her arms crossed.

“It’s not like her…” Jesse narrowed his eyes at the auburn-haired girl. “What’d you do?”

Dina smacked his chest. “Jessie! She’s literally the victim here— domestic abuse!”

He sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes. “I’m not saying what she did was right.” Jessie began. “I’m saying that I know Ellie Williams, and I know how she is— she’s a pusher.”

The bruised seventeen-year-old scoffed.

“Yeah, I said it.” He stood tall, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You’re a pusher. Hell, you’re a professional pusher— you push people for a fucking living.” Dina glared at him, threatening to hit him again. “I mean, there was that one time… When we went into the city for that comic convention, and you completely obliterated Joel for worrying about you—“

The dark-haired, freckled teenager pushed her boyfriend out of the way taking his place. “We don’t have to relive that…”

Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth. “Look, I know this is my fault…”

“Ellie… You’re the one with the bruise forming on your face.” She reached up, rubbing her cheek. Her wincing under her touch.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, squeezing her red eyes. “Yeah, and if it weren’t for me— for what I said… I wouldn’t have this fuckin’ bruise.” Ellie peered at where Joel and Tommy were speaking. They were wrapping up, giving brotherly hugs. “I am a pusher… And now my girlfriend hates me.” She pouted, tears welling up in her eyes. The blond Miller waved a hand at her, giving a tight-lipped smile that screamed I’m sorry. “I gotta go…” She pulled her keys from her pocket, getting into her truck.

That was the last full conversation the two of you had. Horrible, but the last. Everything in between then and the present was short and empty. Light conversations that only strangers and acquaintances shared. Letters here and there. It was a dispute that was so nuanced, for the first year after that, Joel barely said a word to you. Which bled into his relationship with Tommy. Maria tried to play middleman, but it didn’t work.

Perhaps, that was the reason you kept your distance. You didn’t want to continue to be the wedge that formed between two brothers. While you loved your parents, they were only a phone-call away. And, in the meantime, you could focus on growing in your career. Focusing on your book writing, instead.

You just wanted to forget about what happened when you were an emotionally undeveloped seventeen-year-old, but every time you seen her face—you remembered. So, avoiding Ellie Williams was a mission within itself.

A mission you were hoping you weren’t going to have to endure this year.

“You know,” Tommy began, sipping his fresh coffee. “Joel’s coming down from Jersey for the week.”

As you looked through the fridge, you snapped your head in his direction. “Is he now…?” You slowly question. Letting the fridge door shut on its own. The blonde woman to his right, sitting at the island counter, chuckled. Flipping through the interior design magazine you brought for her.

“And he’s picking up Ellie from the city.”

“What!” You exclaim, rushing to the opposite side of the counter. Pulling the mug from his lips, a surprised squeak left your throat. “Uh, dad… You forgot to mention on the several phone calls that we had in that last month that Ellie moved to the city.”

Maria perked up, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, she’s been there for about a year now… Brooklyn, is it?” She looked to her husband for clarification. He nodded, peering up at you with a plain expression.

“A year?! And none of you told me?”

“Bug, you did say that you didn’t want us to bring her up anymore unless you asked.” Maria stood to her feet, meandering to the stove and oven. “But that does remind me… They should be here in a few hours. Wanna help with the brownies?” She preheated the oven, walking around you casually.

Your mouth fell open, glancing between the two of them. “Okay, so they get brownies, and I get the worst news of my life…” An apron with your nickname embroidered on the front, Bug, hung in your mother's hand as an offering. “Yes, I’ll help with the brownies— this is very cruel to your very successful daughter.”

Tommy waved his hand, dismissively. “C’mon, that incident happened years ago now. You’re twenty-five, I’m sure she’s gotten over it.”

Tying the string around your neck and back, you pressed your lips into a line. It wasn’t really about her—you weren’t over it. You still harbored the same guilt you felt when you settled in your room that night. A crazy mixture of resentment and remorse all rolled up into one feeling; as you settled in your reading nook, with your hand out the window holding a burning cigarette with your index and middle finger. “I’m sure she has…”

Eventually, you switched the conversation around while baking. Falling into fits of laughter from mentioning past stories of your teenagehood. Teaming up with Maria to make fun of Tommy and his aging—all of a sudden, he was beginning to have a knack for playing a checkers. Only old people enjoyed playing checkers. Then, the waiting began.

To busy yourself, you pulled out your computer and brought it to the porch. Even though, you were taking some time off at your publishing job; when it came to your book writing, you had an agent to keep flooding your inbox with emails. Telling you to do this and do that—it was obnoxious. But you did as she asked anyway.

Typing away, a puff of nicotine fled from your lips. Murmuring under your breath, the words that were populating on the screen. On your hip, your phone rang, causing you to throw your head back in slight agony. Something always interrupted you when you were flowing. Flipping open your phone, the decorative chain swinging around as you placed it against your ear. “Hello,” You spoke, stubbing out your cigarette.

It was your roommate and closest friend, Sierra, complaining about the neighbors. Her strong long island accent echoing through the phone. “Oh, my God— they’re so loud! You’d think gettin’ an apartment in a nicer building would thicken the walls.” She groaned on the other end. “Please, come back. At least to tell them to shut up, and then you could go back upstate.”

“Why don’t you… I don’t know…” You shut your laptop, replacing your butt with the boxy electronic. Strolling to the far end of the porch, leaning your arms against the bannister. “Tell them yourself?” An amused smile spread on your lips.

Sierra paused. “Because that’s your job. I’m the nice one, remember?”

“Okay, well I can’t leave. I just got here, and I’m not spending another grand on taxi fare.”

“I’ll spot you.” You could hear her smile on the end.

“Sierra, I’m not coming back until Saturday. So, your only options are to either bang on their door— telling them to shut the hell up— or you suffer listening to their relentless daytime sex.” As you spoke, a truck began rolling up the driveway. Identities unclear due to the intense window tint, but you knew exactly who it was. However, there were three heads in that truck.

She groaned on the other end of the line. “Ugh! I hate you—“

“You love me!” You grinned, but it dropped right off your face when the people exited the vehicle. From the driver's seat, it was Ellie; then, it was Joel who exited, seemingly in conversation. And, finally, a girl stepped out of the vehicle. Joel noticed you leaning against the bannister on the porch, waving his hand with a smile.

Your muscles reacted, waving a fleeting hand. “Maria, Tommy! They’re here!” You yell loud enough to be heard through the screen door. You were always insecure about calling them by their parental titles in front of people—let alone new people.

“You’re yelling in my ear, hon. If you gotta go just tell me.” Sierra complained.

“I gotta go.”

Before she could say her goodbyes, you shut your phone, sliding it into your back pocket. Your parents came out of the house in high spirits; Maria clapping her hands, excitedly, embracing Ellie. Tommy giving a firm bear hug to Joel, laughing heartily—at what? You were unsure.

Awkwardly, you stood there. Smiling with your hands held in front of your body as if you were presenting a project.

Joel looked to you, approaching you with open arms. “Look at you,” He began, wrapping his arms around you, warmly. “All grown up.” He pulled back to get a better look at you, nodding proudly.

“Yeah…” You tapped his shoulder. “You, too.” A chuckle fell from your lips.

Then, you looked to your right at the freckled girl with her arm around a feminine stranger. However, you couldn’t indentify her before you did Ellie. Her auburn hair was pulled into a low bun, with pieces framing her gentle features. Her round evergreen, tinted with slivers of brown, eyes. Freckles decorating her cheeks, bridge of her nose; the beauty mark under left eye—

“Hey,” Ellie drawled out the greeting, awkwardly. Leaning in for a hug that teetered back and forth until you reciprocated.

You kept that same plastered smile on your lips, wrapping your arm under hers. “Hey, Ellie.” Pulling back, you finally looked at the girl beside her. She had tattoos and piercings and looked so much cooler than you. “Who’s this?”

Her earthy eyes widened. “Oh, this is, uhm, my girlfriend, Cat.”

The only response you could give was a nod and a half-hearted wave. It was like a dramatic record scratch in your head. But your parents took over with the rest. Guiding everyone inside to the warmth. Tommy remained outside, giving you skeptical eyes. “Help me with the bags…”

“Honey, don’t be weird about this.” He spoke, as you followed him to the truck.

“I’m not being weird.” You whined, gravel crunching under your feet. “Seriously, what’s to be weird about?” Reaching into the open trunk, you pulled out luggage’s and duffle bags. This was a lot of stuff for a week stay—they brought more than you did.

He gruffly breathed, pulling up the handle of one of the suitcases. “You’re my daughter, I know you— just sayin’…”

“Oh, my God— please!” You complained, hooking the duffle over your shoulder, pulling one of the luggage’s. Leaving him to follow you toward the porch.

Dinner had come quicker than you had hoped. If anything, if you could magically skip over the thing, and still eat, that would’ve been perfect.

All six of you sat at the dining table, forks and knives scratching at ceramic plates. Tommy and Joel had gathered in the back, last minute to cook up some steaks. And, to busy yourself, you helped Maria with the sides while Ellie and Cat got situated in the guest house.

“So, y/n, how’s the book comin’ along?” Joel wondered, putting a cut piece of steak into his mouth.

You made a surprised sound as you chewed your food, rushing to swallow. “Shit, you’re writing a book?” Ellie questioned, leaning her elbows on the table.

Taking a sip of water, you decided to respond. “Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a while.” Your eyes glanced at her, then moved on, quickly, to Joel’s. “It’s… Coming along.” A bashful laugh fell from your lips, as your hand reached for the glass of wine. It was barely touched, red hue swishing in the bulb of the glass as you took a sip. It’s fruity bitterness relishing over your tongue.

“What is it— like fiction or…?” Ellie pressed, genuinely.

“Non-fiction. A book of essay’s, really— written in different forms.” You nodded. “It sounds boring…”

Ellie shrugged, forking a piece of meat into her mouth. “Doesn’t sound boring to me.” She responded, with her mouth full.

“It’s the farthest from boring, honey.” Maria massaged your shoulder, sharing a small smile. You mirrored her in return, forking at the vegetables on your plate—perfectly steamed broccoli.

“How’s Brooklyn treating you?” You spoke up, raising your eyebrows.

Ellie lightly glared at Joel before answering, placing her utensils down. “It’s certainly treating me…” She muttered, rubbing her hands together, glancing at her girlfriend.

“It’s a great place for art, but just not Ellie’s art.” Cat chuckled, sipping from her wine glass.

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing.” You nod.

“I recall her using the words: too crowded.” Joel used air quotes to briefly describe the past conversation.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “It makes me feel crowded— the city. When you say it like that, it makes me sound fucking stupid, Joel.”

“You did say crowded.”

“Well, I meant overwhelmed.”

You snickered at their bickering, leaning back in your chair. “Back to your art, I guess you’re experiencing the artistic equivalent to writers block?” Tommy inquired, still chewing on his steak, raising an eyebrow. The auburn-haired young woman nodded, chuckling to herself. “That’s why you’re stayin’ with us for a little while, huh?”

Another record scratch.

You blinked at you father, deepening your eyebrows. “Wait, what?”

Joel had set his beer on the table, leaning forward. “Yeah, Ellie’s stayin’ with your parents for a little while to get her juices flowing, again.” He explained, pressing his lips into a soft smile. Ellie cringed at his use of the words juices, taking a sip of her beer.

Tommy and Maria told you nothing unless you asked for it for almost everything now—you at least deserved to know that Ellie was staying on the farm indefinitely. After all, when they’re dead and gone, it’ll be yours; so, they could’ve at least told you without you having to ask—that’s big!

“And, I’ll help out so I won’t be sleeping the day away— because I know that I will without a proper schedule.”

“I thought you guys didn’t need a farmhand.” You glanced at your parents, with your eyebrows still deepened with confusion.

Maria chuckled, standing to her feet. “We don’t need anything, but who could say no to a helping hand?” She grabs the empty basket of biscuits from the center of the table. “Anybody want more biscuits?”

“I would love some!” Cat spoke up, holding up a tattooed finger.

“Me too, honey.” Tommy also spoke.

A dry chortle left your lips, leaning against the back of the chair. “Are you staying on the farm, too?” You peered over at the stranger—the girlfriend, with a slight accusatory tone.

Her lips parted a few times before she responded. “Oh, no, I’m going back to Brooklyn. Not much of a country girl.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded, downing the rest of your wine. This week was going to be a doozy. When Maria came back to the table, you snatched a biscuit from the basket, biting into it. There was a perfect crispy layer on the outside, mixed with the perfect gooey, soft innards of the biscuit. “These are so good.” You muttered with your mouth full with its buttery goodness.

On your hip, your phone buzzed. Cursing under your breath, you plucked the cellphone from your belt, flicking it open. It was your agent calling you at eight o’clock at night. “Excuse me, I gotta take this.” You scooted the chair back, pressing the green button. “It’s late, Isa.” You started the call, stalking out of the room like the corporate woman you are. Taking the route up the stairs to your old bedroom.

“I need that new chapter by tomorrow morning— as in, 8am.” She scolded on the other line. “I’m personally reminding you. Since you couldn’t respond to my emails.”

You sighed, shutting your bedroom door behind you. “Isa, I’ve been traveling all day on public transport, and I’ve been trying to have family time— is that not what Thanksgiving is about?”

“You’re writer, hon. You have little bit of family time, then you hermit to finish your work— now, stop giving me grief. Time is of the essence.” Her smooth voice told, chuckling after her words. “I’ll be anticipating you’re new chapter tomorrow at eight! Have a great night.”

“Have a great night…”

Slapping your phone shut, you sighed, running your other hand over your face. Being a writer was relentless—just as relentless as you and your roommate’s neighbors. But, instead of lingering in frustration, you grabbed your heavy laptop and propped yourself on the cushion beside your window—your reading nook. Not forgetting to put a Sade tape inside of your stereo for some background music, before you began to diligently work.

You typed at your computer, rapid clicking sounds filling your ears. Although, it was no surprise that you worked your hardest after the sun set—it was like you had one too many espresso shots.

Every word was coming from the heart, and coincidentally enough, the guests at your home made it easier. This chapter was definitely reflecting the feelings you felt the day of Ellie’s seventeenth birthday. You used imagery and metaphors to describe that feeling of attack—being backed into a corner, having the worst part of yourself brought into the light. And, like most of your pieces, it was dredging it all back up again; the emotions.

That feeling of losing the only person that truly understood you.

Of course, you had a few relationships since then—a few, trying to chase that same feeling you felt when your hands touched. But there wasn’t anyone who could compare to her. How pathetic was it to still be harping on a highschool sweetheart?

Hours passed under the radar. Your parents being the mile marker in your work, knocking on the door to let you know everyone was heading to bed. Too busy with outlining new ideas, you barely spared them a glance, muttering a smooth goodnight.

It was about one in the morning by the time you finished the chapter. Still, it needed some tweaking, but it was good enough to send to your agent for the editor to look at.

Shutting your laptop, you finally took in your old bedroom. Various music artists slapped against your soft pink walls, attached with tape—some corners hanging off. Catwoman figurines lining the back of your large, white, wooden dresser; with comics stacked alongside them. Stacks of old books in the corner of your room, stacked from the floor to the middle of her wall. If you were to stumble into them, they’d experience one hell of a fall.

Suddenly, curiosity struck.

Hopping from the cushioned seat under your paneled window, you looked under your bed. Reaching for an old shoebox that was filled with many, many interesting things. You slid it from under the dusty bed frame, taking it back to that plushy seat you appreciated so dearly. Plucking the top off, you released a sigh. Immediately being hit with polaroids of yourself as a teenager—mostly standing beside, laughing with, and cuddling Ellie.

They were the photos you snatched from your wall after that fight. Oh, she looked the same. Still had that uncertainty in her earthy, olive eyes. You didn’t understand it then, and you most definitely didn’t understand it now. Ellie didn’t have to feel the uncertainty she was used to in foster care. She had people who believed in her—who will always believe in her.

Sifting through, your hands hovered over a letter she wrote. It was an apology letter sent around the time of her eighteenth birthday—almost a full year since the situation. The envelope was ripped open from the day you received it; stained with salty, heartbroken tears.

If only that day never happened…

A startling knock sounded at your window. It was no more than a pebble, which was confirmed when another launched within your sights. Scrunching up your eyebrows, you unlocked it, pulling it upwards. Once you peaked your head outside into the brisk, cool weather, a small smile spread onto your lips.

“Workin’ hard or hardly workin’ up there?” Ellie called from below. “I brought a little somethin’… Thought you could use a break from writing.” She waved a tightly rolled joint in her hands—which could only be seen if you squinted.

The corners of your lips spread wider, feeling horribly nostalgic. “You’re actually a little too late on that front. I finished a few minutes ago,” You pressed your lips into a line, continuing. “But I could never turn down smoke break. I’ll be down in a second.”

Dropping the letter, you scooted off the seat to grab your jacket. Stuffing your feet into the semi-stained Uggs you wore into the ground, before fleeing your bedroom. You didn’t feel the need to sneak down the stairs, but a part of you wanted to—to relieve that feeling of adrenaline you felt in your youth.

Ellie met you at the back door, holding open the creaking screen door as you exited. “I honestly wasn’t sure you still did this.” She chuckled, looking at the ground as you both began to walk away from the house. Putting some distance so the smell wouldn’t upset the elders in the home.

“What? Smoke weed?” You perked an eyebrow. “You think because I went all corporate, I stopped being down?”

“Actually… Yeah.” She responded, nervously snickering.

The two ofyou settled in front of this white-lined shed that was illuminated by the two warm, orange-toned lights on either side of the door. “Well, you’re kind of right…” You admitted, squinting your eyes, embarrassed. It’s hard being known for your adaptability. “I try to keep the pot smoking to a minimum. In the corporate world they test you for it.”

Ellie pulled the joint from behind her ear, placing it between her lips. She shook her head in response to your words. “Says the cigarette smoker…” She joked, eyeing you, teasingly. While she flicked her lighter to burn the tip.

“Hey, they don’t give a rats ass about nicotine— I need to make up for that loss somehow. I’m a writer for christ’s sake.”

When she finally gets it to catch the fire, she took two puffs before passing it to you between her index and thumb. “Where’s Cat?” You innocently questioned, taking a hit of the joint, then looking at it, before taking another hit.

Ellie became rigid, releasing an exasperated sigh from her lips. “The guesthouse, watchin’ some movie.”

You handed her the joint. “What, is she not down?” Mocking your previous words, with amused eyes. However, her demeanor had quickly shifted.

“She gets easily frustrated after traveling all day…” She shook her head in a dismissive way, like she didn’t want any further questions to asked.

“Hm… That’s relatable.”

Silence engulfed the both of you as you passed the blunt back and forth until it was nothing more than a roach. Hearing nothing but the distant wind chimes sounding off on the porch.

Before speaking, Ellie took a deep breath, glancing over at you as if she were nervous to make eye contact. “I hope me stayin’ here for a little bit doesn’t bother you too much.”

Her words were double-take worthy, you looked over at her with expressive eyes—widening, in surprise. “Bother me? Why would it bother me?” You leaned your shoulder on the shed, kicking one leg over the other.

“You didn’t seem like the biggest fan—“

“Ellie, I was surprised. That’s all.” You waved your hand, shaking your head. “I feel like they don’t tell me shit anymore…” Shoulders shrugging, you glance toward the house standing tall in all its glory. “They didn’t tell me about you moving to Brooklyn, either. What does it look like when someone you’ve known your whole life moves to a city you’re actually familiar with and they’re not, and you don’t reach out to help them? I’m only a forty minute train ride away.” You rambled, deepening your eyebrows. “They basically made me look like an asshole.”

You weren’t entirely sure how you’d react if you knew about Ellie’s moving to the big city. Knowing your habits, you’d probably sit by the phone for hours before making the move to give her a call. But, it’s not like you were given the opportunity to figure it out for yourself. Now, it just appeared that you forgot about her—or could care less about her endeavors; which is farthest from the truth.

Her full lips cracked into a smile, chuckling. The auburn-haired woman, mirrored your position, leaning her shoulder against the wooden shed. “Always worried about what you look like…” She muttered, sucking her teeth. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re an asshole— you just didn’t know.” Ellie shrugged. “It’s not like we talk as much as we used to…”

As much as we used to. That kind of stung.

Your eyes averted to the gravel under your boots. “Yeah…” There was an awkward beat that took its place between you. Swallowing, you shooed it away with speaking up. “What about your art? You’re living in one of the most creative cities in the world, and you can’t create?”

She puffed air from her lips, glancing in the direction of the guesthouse, priming her lips. “Okay… Confession— but only if what’s said here stays here.”

“What’s said at the shed, stays at the shed.” You affirm, holding a hand and crossing to fingers. The high from what you smoked clouding your mind, squinting your eyes and loosening your inhibitions.

“Cat and I moved in together pretty early— too early… I needed a roommate and she was the perfect option.” Ellie began, carefully. Olive eyes shifting under the dim light in thought. “I swear ever since I moved in with her… The inspiration to make anything new is fucking gone.” She ran her hand over her hair, which was actually loose without a hair tie. Dusting over her shoulders, pieces pushed behind her ears. “She, you know, hovers a lot— in a sweet way, it’s just irritating because not even her pushing me can be inspiring.”

Your heart skipped a beat; it was hopeful—you really are an asshole! “Damn… So, it’s not the city that makes you feel crowded. It’s Cat.” You hum, nodding your head, taking in your assumption. “And… You think staying here will help? Doing boring farm work?” A chuckle falls from your lips, borderline nervous, borderline humored.

She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, I spent a lot of time here growin’ up…” Ellie looked at you, knowingly. “It was never boring when we did it together.”

“That’s because we were doing it together. I’m not gonna be here while you’re shoveling horse shit.” You chortled, peering at her through hazy eyes. She giggled and it sounded like music to your ears. It’s been awhile since you heard her laugh from something you said. Weed always did have a way of bringing people together.

“Well, maybe before you go, you could help me out. Jog my memory.” Ellie offered, raising her eyebrows. “It’s either you or suffering through Tommy’s jokes for hours—“

“I don’t mind, but we might have to jog each others memory.”

“Hey, you can take the girl out the country, but not the country out the girl.” She shrugged. “I have faith in you.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, a smile spread on your lips. “You’re still so corny.” Shaking your head, a laugh slips. Wrapping your arms around your body, you acknowledge the cool weather. It pricked at your exposed skin, and even through your jacket. “It’s getting late…”

She scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I appreciate the joint— I needed it.” You pushed off the shed wall, licking your lips. In preparation to meander back toward the house, you rocked on your feet. “There’s some left over biscuits on the counter…” You drawled, but it was all right because Ellie had filled in for you.

“I’m fucking starving.”

Then, the two of you walked shoulder to shoulder back inside. Giggling at stupid jokes, surfing over any of the past debacles you had. Turns out reconvening with your childhood lover wasn’t so bad after all. For now, anyway.

#🪅#millersfinest #ellie williams #lesbian #ellie tlou #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams series

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bluedosjaykewon · 4 months ago

Text

🥹✨Enhypen as Dads✨🥹

Fluffy, only lots and lots of suggar

Heeseung

Making everyone very sad (I know we would all like to see Heeseung being a “girl dad”, I would love it too) but I see Hee being father of two boys (about 3 or 4 years apart)

I honestly think he would be so happy with that since he grew up with his brother too so he wants to provide a childhood as cool as his children was

He is 100% the type of father "don't tell your mother"

"Don't tell your mother we drank soda at dawn"

"Don't tell your mother we stayed up playing video games until 4 in the morning"

"Don't tell your mother I took you to Burger King after school"

Etc etc

I also can see you scolding your son and he saying "hey honey but he didn't do anything wrong" and you just look at him and automatically he turns around and says “VERY BAD KID THIS IS VERY VERY BAD”

What can he do???? He's the good cop

I think Hee would be the kind of father who would be very supportive of his children, especially if they want to pursue a career in music, but I think he would be very wise to tell his children that it's a very exhausting life and full of very complicated obstacles

His oldest son is definitely his best friend (he lives to make this boy feel proud of him)

His youngest son is his baby

As Heeseung is the youngest children in his family I think he sees himself in his baby boy so is that the reason why he’s always very emotional about the youngest

He wants to be the cool and laid-back father to his youngest son while he wants to be the loyal friend of his oldest

I can really imagine him taking his oldest son for a drive at night to clear his head

Speaking of cars, these 3 always go on a fishing trip every month IT'S A TRADITION

His youngest son doesn't like fishing that much but he loves spending time with his father and brother so he goes anyway🥹

His children always come back covered in mosquito bites because Heeseung always forgets his insect repellent home, but they come back smiling and happy so it doesn't matter.

Jay

Ok, let's go

Jay is a couple father, DOES EVERYONE AGREE?????

He has an older daughter, who he raised with all the love, affection, care and protection and will always take care of her because she is his princess.

And he has a younger son that is his best bro forever (maybe 6 years between the children?)

I imagine that his daughter must have been so jealous of her brother when he was born

I can see them at 16 and 10 years old, having a Disney Chanel sibling dynamic, who live to make each other's lives hell, are fighting 100% of the time but deep down love each other deeply

He and his youngest son are quite a duo

They have a garage band together🥹🫶🏼

Jay taught him to play guitar but the boy's passion is the drums

I imagine that he is much closer to his older daughter, but he doesn't know how to deal very well with his daughter growing up and no longer depending on him.

So he spends all the time he can with his youngest because when the youngest grows up it's over for him

Jay loves to keep his kids entertained so he would be up for anything

“Daddy, are we going to the Taylor Swift concert?”

“Sure, my love.”

“Daddy, can we go to the skate park?”

“We’ll leave in a few minutes, okay? Just let daddy finish this first”

Btw, he supports everything his children want to do

I swear his children have already taken every course and private lesson that exists on the earth

Jay will enroll them in and out of anything they want

Because he wants his children to be happy and he grew up with a family that gave him so much support that I believe he will do the same

Btw, the family tradition is take the childrens to see baseball games

In fact, Jay had a huge existential crisis when his daughter started not wanting to go to the games🥹

He started remembering her when she was little with a t-shirt and a cap that was too big for her, sitting on his shoulders and watching the game🥹🥹🥹🥹

Poor man, he collapsed

Jake

I imagine him being such a calm and relaxed father, you know?

I think he would be such a relaxed father.

His relationship with his children is based on trust, affection and love 100% of the time.

I don't think he smothers his children or wants to be with them 100% of the time.

Of course he is a present father, but I think he respects his children's time a lot.

But let’s go, he has 3 children.

2 older boys and a younger girl (about 2 years apart from each child?)

Oh, how this man was in heaven when these children were born.

Jake loves being a father, I think he considers it his favorite profession.

And he is simply so delicate with his children, his tone of voice is always soft and loving, he touches them as if they were made of porcelain.

He loves taking them to the park, riding his bike with them and stopping for ice cream afterwards, or taking them to the pool, spending the whole day at the water park and then stopping at the McDonald’s🥹🥹🥹🥹

God, he loves his little 4-year-old girl, he’s an idiot for her (she gets whatever she wants, he’s her personal butler)

You see him walking around with weird hairstyles and stickers on his face quite often (he’s a regular at the 4pm tea party with his daughter and her bunny every Wednesday)

But he’s so incredibly in love with his 8 and 6-year-old boys

I can imagine them playing with lots of Hot Wheels tracks lol (and Jake taking it so seriously)

They build a lot of Lego together too, God, his kids have BOXES AND BOXES of Lego of every possible and imaginable type

He’s the kind of father who dances with his daughter dressed as a prince and gives her flowers so she gets used to receiving love early on so he doesn’t worry about future relationships

At the same time, he’s an example of such a good man for your children

Your children are so in love with your relationship🥹♥️

I imagine the 3 of you being so close, they are brothers who truly love each other unconditionally because the only reference they have is love, love and more love♥️😭

Sunghoon

OKAY LISTEN…

Two girls

NOBODY WILL PROVE ME OTHERWISE

He has two girls who are about 3 years apart from each other

His oldest is like “🎀✨💕DADDYS GIRL💕✨🎀” and his youngest is more like “💋✨⛸️DADDYS GIRL⛸️✨💋” if you can understand me

Like the oldest is more “Daddy, can I use your card??? I need a new dress” and the youngest is more “Dad, I told you! You don’t have to buy me anything”

BTW

He is absolutely in love with them to an extreme level

They are his world, after they were born nothing else matters more to him than the happiness of his two little girls

He is a REALLY OVERPROTECTIVE FATHER

like really

He can’t be able to sleep if he knows that your girls are on a party or on a date

He just CAN’T

And you’re like “babe, cmon, let’s rest a little” and he will be like “I can’t sleep, y/d must call anytime”

Something he miss when the girls are little babies…

When they were little they cried for him to put them to sleep and sing to them😭♥️

And now his princess wanna buy short skirts and dance all night😭💔

His youngest really like to skating so they do it together sometimes

These two girls are the pinnacle of what a doting and protective father can do with a girl

But like I said he is protective

The day you came to him saying he was so cute like your oldest daughter had a boyfriend in kindergarten….

He went to the school to have a serious talk with a 5-year-old boy and his parents

Even today, more than 10 years later, he still has a grudge against the poor child who just held his little girl's hand

I can imagine your daughter going to say that she has something important to talk about and him saying "did you find out you're a lesbian and are you going to get rid of that idiot?😃"

and your daughter saying "no daddy" and he would reply with "are you absolutely sure you're not a lesbian?😃"

You think Jay would spoil his children but nothing is as good for the economy as Park Sunghoon, his daughters and his black card at the mall

You know that scene from Beverly Hills where the father asks what his daughter is wearing and she answers "Calvin Clain"

They have this energy

He takes them and picks them up from everywhere because he doesn't like his princesses to walk around alone and he doesn't want boys bringing home

Nothing in the world would break his heart more than seeing his daughters cry. He always makes a point of buying their favorite foods, giving them a cuddle and leaving a kiss on their heads when they are crying.

Now if it is because of some boy... God have mercy and may he not find out the address of that boy

Sunoo

He has two girls too, but they are twins.

He is over the moon with them.

Do you agree with me that they would wear matching outfits????😭😭😭😭

He knows ALL the Disney princess songs

ALL OF THEM.

He would be his daughters' best friend 100%. He gives his daughters a lot of space to talk to him about absolutely anything and everything, he is always very present and aware of everything that happens in the lives of his little gems.

One of them is really extroverted and shining just like him and the other is like “omg you two are making me feel embarrassed please stop”

But he is also very protective of them.

Not like Sunghoon, of course.

Dad Sunoo is like a mother lioness, he protects his children tooth and nail no matter what.

(Like the “PELA CRIANÇA EU DOU A MINHA VIDA GRAÇAS A DEUS!!!” meme)

If this man finds out that one of his daughters is being bullied at school... I feel so sorry for the principal of that institution because he will DESTROY her.

He also watches a lot of movies with his daughters, when he gets home from work and his girls have already come home from school, it's always the perfect time to order food and watch Korean dramas together

He would always be available for serious, intimate, or everyday conversations

I think he would be such an attentive father🥹🥹🥹 but at the same time he would have no patience at all

He seems to me like the kind of father who when his kid makes a fuss he leaves the child on the floor of the store crying, walks away and pretends he doesn't know her

I imagine him being very truly with his daughters too, like "are you going out like that? With those clothes???? No, you can't change that, it's not good, you're dressing like Sponge Bob"

He would be their safe place too

I can see him comforting them when they were crying about something, like them lying on his lap while he caresses them and says "it's okay, love, it'll pass, I already have your age too, it'll pass"

Jungwon

He has a son, a little boy

You are thinking about having another one, but he is always analyzing how you have such a comfortable life with only one child and that a second child would require you to give up some privileges, etc.

Obviously he would be up for more children if you wanted, he catches himself thinking about another baby often, but he always brings up this conversation at some point

But anyway, your little boy is around 5/6 years old????

I feel like Won is in a limbo between “being the cool dad” and “being the example of a responsible man that his son needs”

He demands a lot of himself as a father

whenever he gets home and sees that his son is already in bed sleeping and he didn't get him “good night kisses” he feels terrible😔😔😔 (I think you will have to reassure him several times a day that he is doing an excellent job)

I can imagine him like this:

“What's up, son? Boys' day today, huh? Let's go to the park, the movies, and then have ribs for dinner, what do you think????”

“What's up, buddy? How was school today?”

And your son LOOOOOOOVES HIM

Like that type of kids that say “MY DAD IS MY SUPERHERO” is really cute

Doesn’t help the fact that this kid has his father kitty bubble tea eyes😭✨

But he’s really shy when he’s not with you or Jungwon, like, your two are his best friends.

Jungwon is such a fun father🥹

Even if he comes home feeling sad, limping, anemic, fragile and inconsistent, he will take time to play with your son and this will charge his energy 100%.

Just like Jake, Won is the kind of father who lets his son do whatever he wants with him.

His son will stick stickers on his face, draw a mustache and a goatee with a marker, etc., etc., and he will stand there laughing at how cute his son is.

He loves taking naps with your son (he even went through a difficult time when your son stopped being afraid of sleeping alone and asked to sleep with you every night).

I think he would be such a responsible father. He would know how to say no to his child when necessary and would teach that there is a time and place for everything and that we should be polite and patient. 🥹♥️

Riki

Just like Won, I imagine that Kiki has 2 father skins: the fun-child father with a 4-year-old mentality and the extremely mature father who is aware of his activities as a father.

He fluctuates a lot between these two.

He is extremely responsible when it comes to his children, he can handle any situation on his own without any problems.

Btw, I can see him having a family just like his own (two girls and a middle boy🥹). They are like 10, 8 and 5 years old. 🥹🥹🥹

He and the older ones do so much messy together that I swear to God I don't know how your house is still standing.

They play a lot of running games until Kiki stops and says "Aaaaaah daddy's back isn't the same anymore."

Like I said, his older ones brought out his fun and agitated side, but his youngest is so calm and sweet that he can't be the childish father with her, he just wants to protect her from everything

(he also joins the team of daddys who let their little daughter do whatever she wants with him) this girl is almost always riding on her father's shoulders😭♥️

He is the biggest fan of his children, he is there for everything his children want to do

I can see his children so interested in his “idol” career and always with stars in their eyes when they see videos of enhypen's performances

But unlike Heeseung, I think Riki would be reluctant to let his children enter the world of stardom, especially young ones like him, I think he wouldn't want his children to go through as much as he did and he would be far away and imposing to do something...

His favorite pastime is taking his children to Disney, I swear to God they are at Tokyo Disney almost every weekend

I like to think he likes to hold his two oldest ones by the feet while his youngest is on his back and playing mechanical bull AJAKAKAKAKAKA

His kids feel so comfortable talking to him (he's not a very jealous dad either)

I also think that there’s moments that Riki just stops, look at his kids and says “wow” like “they’re real, I made them”

And I think he’s the “what your mom thinks about that?” Type of dad, like “bro, you know that mommy is the leader of this family go ask her”

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olailamajnoon · 19 days ago

Text

Random criminal: so, B-Man.

Batman turns and glares.

Random Criminal: you ever think of us after you go home at night?

Batman: ...

Red Hood and Robin: ...

Random Criminal: you break our legs, sometimes shove a batarang through our soft squishy torsos.

Red Hood: I recommend you stop speaking very fucking quickly.

Batman, approaching, looming over: what is your name.

Random Criminal: Steve, and you know, my mother had plans for me, you know!

Batman, dry: uh huh

Steve: I wore diapers. I had a father. I played with rattles, and I went to school. I graduated third in my entire class!

Batman: and yet here you are, helping Penguin move shipments of heroin.

Steve: I have a very expensive girlfriend. Well, she's not so much my girlfriend as a...sometimes thing. The girlfriend title is aspirational.

Batman: she's taking advantage of you.

Steve: don't you think I know that? But she has these abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous pair of—

Batman covers Robin's ears.

Steve: —eyes.

Batman gruffly: I have places to be, Steve. And—*cocking his head listening to the approaching police sirens*—so do you.

Steve: I joined a rock band, in high school. But the shmucks wouldn't let me play lead guitar.

Red Hood: while your attempts to humanize yourself have been fun, and mildly entertaining, we do have places to be.

Steve, throws himself on the ground, begging: Please. Please, mister Batman, please. I don't wanna go to Blackgate. I'm sorry, I've learned my lesson! I don't—*starts crying with snot*—please don't. Don't do this. I will be a productive member of society, I swear. From now on. You have my fucking word.

Batman, unmoved: I let you go, why shouldn't I let them go? *points at the other trussed up goons*

Steve, considering: Well....

Batman:

Steve: I got nothin'

He's silent.

Batman: *sighs* give me your social security number, your phone number and your home address.

Steve: oh my god. Oh my god yes. Okay yes.

Batman: also I'm putting a tracker on you, Steve. If I ever get so much as a whiff of trouble, I will make you—

Steve: yes yes

Batman: —sheesh kebab.

Steve: oh my god thank you, thank you. *Robin undoes his restraints*

Batman: I'll get you an entry level job with one of my corporate partners. You will be given work suitable to your capacity. Needless to say, you'll need to trim expenses.

Steve: yes, yes, anything yes.

Batman: also...

Steve: ....?

Batman: you will be at the mercy of my children whenever they want to play pranks on each other.

Steve, raising his eyebrows: really? That's all?

Red Hood, singsong: oh you sweet summer child...

Batman: trust me. You'll regret the day you signed up for a life of crime.

Steve, laughing in relief: you know, you're like a good hearted grinch. You're scary on top, but then, burrow inside and you'll find, like, marshmallow

Batman: ...

Steve: I'll shut up now.

Part 2

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lexirosewrites · 19 days ago

Note

This has been in my brain for a HOT MINUTE so it will b long

A!Eddie & Corroded Coffin didn't make it in the rock n roll world, the band certainly tried but they all found tht it wasn't the fulfilling kind of work they wanted or needed. So one by one they all ended up moving away from California some of them went back to the midwest.

B!Gareth left first, he'd found a passion for teaching after taking on a few tutoring jobs to pay the bills so after a lot of talking he went back to school in Indianapolis where he could b near family. A!Freak went as far as they could without needing a passport & moved to NYC where they built a fulfilling & even successful career in the Broadway circuit as a musician. Jeff & Eddie ended up leaving together, even staying together as roommates briefly in Portland bc going back to the midwest felt almost like giving up completely but when Jeff's dad passed away he went home to Indiana for the funeral & just didn't come back, Eddie wasn't resentful abt it he was even ecstatic for A!Jeff when he got a call a half a yr later where Jeff told him he'd moved to Chicago & found work w the USPS tht gave him time to volunteer in an after school program teaching guitar. Eddie stayed in Portland working in a mechanic shop till Gareth invited all of them to watch him walk the stage to accept his teaching degree.

It was a touching reunion for everyone & after a lot of drinks Eddie admitted he hated Portland & admired how Gareth & Jeff were shaping the minds of tomorrow & was proud of Freak for the career they'd built in NYC. In the end, Eddie ended up hopping around the couches of his bandmates in their different places in the country till he found work he enjoyed in Chicago as a line cook & he volunteered w Jeff till slowly but surely Eddie became a go to guy for the program to call & then a yr later the director of the program said she was recommending him to a teaching position at the fancy after school youth art institute her friend ran. Jeff had turned down the position when she'd asked bc the pay wasn't much better & he enjoyed his work w the USPS

Eddie gets a job at this youth art institute & he thrives. He still volunteers & through his efforts the art institute expands their scholarship program. He meets one of the ballet instructors, B!Chrissy, & they're fast friends even platonic soulmates some would say. When Eddie introduces Chrissy to Jeff at Eddie's birthday party in late June he was very unsubtle abt his matchmaking intentions & he was vindicated when they admit to him tht they're dating not even a month later.

When August arrives Chrissy starts talking abt preparing for auditions for The Chicago Ballets annual production of The Nutcracker, apparently the institute got to bring a number of students to audition for the roles reserved for children or teens along w other ballet schools of the city. The students of the ballet classes become even more serious in their lessons, many of them signing up for the one on one lessons offered specifically to prepare for the auditions. Eddie's favorite guitar student, O!Max, was best friends w 2 ballet students (B!El & A!Lucas) in a way tht was clearly developing into a romance btwn the 3 & so the one on one lessons he taught her became mostly her practicing chords while raving abt how hard the 2 were working, tht Lucas' dream was to one day b cast as the cavalier who dances w the sugar plum fairy & tht El hopes to one day b cast as the dew drop in the Waltz of the Flowers.

Two days before auditions the ballet students of the institute get visited by members of the Chicago Ballet Troupe. The youngest get to meet & interact w the dancers cast in roles that'll directly interact w them should they b cast. The teens get the most exciting visitors is the consensus Eddie picks up on, apparently it is somewhat tradition for the dancers cast as The Snow Queen, The Dew Drop, The Sugar Plum Cavalier & The Sugar Plum Fairy to visit w the teens. Chrissy gets a glint in her eye when she insists Eddie come along w them to dinner after classes because her friend from dance school is one of the cast members visiting the teens.

He walks into the restaurant, is led by Chrissy to the table practically overflowing w tall athletic bodies, & promptly plopped into the only remaining seat next to the most gorgeous male omega Eddie has ever laid his eyes on. Chrissy introduces him as Steve Buckley, the first male omega to b cast as The Sugar Plum Fairy in literally any major production of The Nutcracker put on by a major troupe. Eddie knows his eyes get gooey especially when he catches the briefest whiff of the sugar sweet scent tht resembles baked apples when Steve leans closer to hear him better over the noise of the restaurant.

A lot happens after auditions & during production, El is cast as one of the snowflakes & Lucas is cast as a party goer & toy soldier but he impressed the production team so well he was given the position of understudy to The Sigar Plum Cavalier. Steve & Eddie grow closer till they finally kiss after the final curtain of the annual production. Chrissy & Jeff move in together & after Chrissy gets pregnant Eddie is asked to b one of the witnesses when they go to the courthouse to register their bonding. Steve takes over for chrissy when she goes on maternity leave.

Four years later steddie have also bonded & Steve gives a final performance of The Nutcracker before retirement, he was honored to b cast as Sugar Plum one more time & to b there w Lucas as he debuted as not only an official dancer w the Chicago Ballet Troupe but as The Sugar Plum Cavalier. Steve would have stayed longer as a dancer but he wanted to b a mother & Ballet doesn't give much allowance for a dancer to b pregnant. So Steve takes the offer of a teaching job w the same youth art institute where chrissy & his mate work & steddie move to the same Chicago suburb as chrissy/Jeff when they officially begin trying for a baby

Joan Riot Munson is born at exactly noon the following year on the first day of the annual production of The Chicago Ballet's Nutcracker 🥰🩰

we love an omegaverse ballet AU!!!💕

(this is the last ask i have in my inbox for slick sunday, but if i see any come in while i’m out, i’ll try to answer and post!)

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #mpreg #tw mpreg #cw mpreg #my asks

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winchesterwild78 · 5 months ago

Text

Teacher

Characters: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Mention of divorce, Fluff, SMUT!, Protected sexual contact, Be smart, wrap it up people

A/N: Just a short story I came up with from another picture I was tagged in. I’ve never played guitar, so I’m just going with it. Please overlook any errors with the guitar lessons. 😂 Absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. All work is my own, and I do not give permission for it to be taken without my permission. Feel free to like and reblog.

Minors DNI 18+

You’d been a teacher for over 10 years and loved working with children. It had been something you’d wanted to do since you were little. Before Summer Break you would always ask your teachers for extra worksheets so you could play teacher over the break. You’d make your brother and sister play with you. You of course were the teacher.

After breaking up with your husband you decided a move and change of scenery was in the cards. Your parents had moved to Texas a few years ago, so you decided to head home. They were letting you live with them until you got on your feet.

You adored your parents, but as a woman who was almost 40 you didn’t want to live there long. So, you got a local teaching job and offered private guitar lessons on the side. Stacy, a colleague of yours suggested you advertise in the local paper, and on Facebook marketplace. So you did.

Her husband offered you a space at his building so you had somewhere neutral to meet people at. You were so grateful, because he didn’t charge you rent. Any money you made from the lessons went right in your pocket.

You checked your email after dinner and saw an email from someone asking for lessons. You emailed the person back, who said his name was Jay, and gave him the details. The two of you agreed to meet Thursday at 6pm. You offered the first lesson for free, that way the both of you could get a feel for each other. You could make sure they weren’t crazy, and find out how much teaching they needed, and they could see if you could offer them what they needed in lessons.

The week went quickly and it was time to head to your first lesson. You were excited and hoped “Jay” was not psycho and you could actually have a client. You arrived at the space and started setting up the room. Stacy’s husband had put a couch, chairs and tables in the room to help make it comfortable. You were grateful to have such a nice space to hold lessons in.

About 10 minutes to 6, you heard a knock on the door. “Come in” you called from the other side of the room. “Hello, I’m looking for Ms. Y/L/N, I’m Jay.” You turned around to greet the man and stopped dead in your tracks. “Um, you can call me Y/N.” Standing before you was none other than Jensen Ackles. You’d been a fan for years and really couldn’t believe he was standing in your studio.

He stepped forward and extended his hand, “Hello, Y/N. I’m Jensen, but you can call me Jay.” You shook his hand, “Honestly, I know who you are. I’ve been a fan for years. I understand if you’d rather not go forward with the lessons.” “No, darlin’ I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with who I was. I hope you understand.” You nodded, “So, Mr. Ackles, if you’re ready to get started we can. I have my clients start playing so I can see what you know and what you need to practice. I’m ready whenever you are.”

Jensen took out his guitar, “Please, call me Jensen, and I’m ready.” Jensen started playing and you watched intently. The way he gripped the fretboard had you biting your lip. His pressure was perfect and his fingers held the pick like he was holding something delicate.

He flicked his green eyes up at you as he played, and you swallowed hard. Damn how am I going to teach him how to play guitar when all I can think about is his fingers playing my body like he’s playing the strings on that guitar. God is there nothing he can’t do?!

Jensen stopped playing and you looked at him confused. “Jensen, are you sure you need lessons? You sounded great, and your grip is perfect.” “Yeah, I like to practice and I figured I’d hire someone to give me pointers. I’ve been writing songs with a buddy of mine, and I want to contribute more to the band.”

“I understand that. I’ll be happy to help with whatever you need.” For some reason after you said that blush filled your cheeks. Jensen smirked at you, “I’ll keep that in mind, darlin’.” The rest of the session was filled with small talk, and he showed you the song he was working on. You gave him some pointers on it, and when he made the changes he thought it sounded better.

The lesson was supposed to last an hour and when you finally looked at the clock you realized it was almost 9pm. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, Jensen. I didn’t realize what time it was. I monopolized your whole evening.” Jensen took your hand and smiled. Electricity shot through your body and your breath hitched. “It’s okay. I really enjoyed my time with you tonight. When do you think we could continue the lessons?”

“Um, I’m available whenever. Honestly I don’t have much of a social life.” “Well, how about we meet back here tomorrow night at 6, I’ll bring dinner, and we can work some more.” “That sounds great, Jensen. I can’t wait.” Jensen stood, and put his guitar away, “Great, it’s a date.”

You smiled and nodded, “Yeah, it’s a date then. See you later Jensen.” Jensen stepped towards you, your heart pounding in your chest, he was inches from your face. “See you later, Y/N.” Then he placed a soft kiss on your cheek. The two of you exchanged phone numbers so you could text whenever you needed to.

He spun on his heels and left you standing in the middle of the room. You touched your cheek and let out the breath you were holding. You closed up for the night and walked to your car. As you got in your car your phone went off.

Unknown: Hey, it’s Jensen. I hope you don’t mind that I'm texting you. I really enjoyed my time tonight. Looking forward to tomorrow.

You: Hey, Jensen. Yeah, it’s fine you texted. I enjoyed tonight too. I’m looking forward to tomorrow too. I’ll bring dessert. 😀

Jensen: Sounds great. Would you mind texting me when you get home. I just want to make sure you get home safely.

You: Yeah, sure.

You put your phone down and started driving home. You smiled thinking Jensen wanted you to text him. Honestly you felt like you were dreaming. Jensen Ackles was your client, and was texting you. How is this real life?

You pulled in the driveway and walked in the house. Your mom was on the couch and your dad was asleep in the chair. “Hey honey, you’re home late. How did the lesson go?” “Oh, hey mom, yeah it went a little over. We are meeting again tomorrow.” “That’s great, dinner is in the fridge if you’re hungry.” You walked over to your mom and hugged her, “Thanks mom. I appreciate it.”

Walking to the kitchen you pulled out your phone and sent Jensen a text.

You: Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m safely at home. About to eat some dinner.

Jensen: Glad you got home safe. Thanks for letting me know. So, what’s for dinner?

You smiled at your phone. He’s really wanting to chat with me. Oh I hope I don’t embarrass myself.

You: Mom made supper and put it in the fridge. I’m not sure yet.

Jensen: That’s sweet. So, you live with your parents or did your mom just cook you something.

Shit, Jensen, now you’re going to scare her away. Why ask her if she lives at home. What does it matter?

Jensen: I’m sorry, that came across as intrusive. I didn’t mean it like that.

You: It wasn’t. Yeah I moved back in with them not that long ago. After my divorce I needed a change of scenery so I came home. Just trying to save up some money to move out on my own.

Jensen: I’m sorry to hear about your divorce. Speaking from experience they can be hard.

You: Yeah, they aren’t for the faint of heart. It looks like mom made roasted chicken, potatoes and veggies.

Jensen: Yum, sounds delicious. I can let you go so you can eat.

You: You don’t have to. I can chat and eat. If you want to.

Jensen: I do.

You: So, what’s Jensen Ackles doing taking guitar lessons?

Jensen: I’m just trying to hone my skills so I can get better at it. Figured I’d get pointers from a professional.

You: I can appreciate that. As a teacher I try to learn what I can and invest in my knowledge when I can. Practice makes progress. 😀

Jensen: So true. If you don’t mind me asking, how long were you married?

You: About 13 years. We just drifted apart and were more roommates than anything. We decided to split, so I moved back home.

Jensen: I’m sorry. That’s tough.

You: Thanks. So enough about my failed love life. What got you interested in music?

Jensen: I’ve always played and music helps me relax, so I wanted to explore music as an outlet to help with stress.

You: That sounds amazing. I’m glad I can be a part of it.

Jensen: Me too, I can’t wait for our session tomorrow.

You: Me either. Well, I hate to cut this short, but I need to get ready for bed. I have to be up early for work tomorrow.

Jensen: No problem, I understand. Thanks for chatting with me. I’ll see you tomorrow.

You: Yeah, thanks for chatting. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Jensen.

Jensen: Good night, Y/N. Sleep well.

You put your phone down and smiled. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Putting your dishes in the sink, you went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for bed. When you finally crawled into bed, you were too excited to sleep. Thinking about Jensen and the kiss on your cheek, made your heart flutter. You finally fell asleep after laying awake for at least an hour, thinking about him and what tomorrow night would bring.

The next day at work you couldn’t help but wear a smile all day. Your colleagues and students noticed it. Stacy walked up to you after dismissal, “Hey, girl. What’s got you smiling so much?” “Nothing much. I just feel like things are starting to fall into place. I have lessons lined up, I love this job, and I just feel free.” She hugged you, “I’m happy for you. What are your plans for this weekend?” “Well, I have another lesson tonight, but I'm not sure about the rest of the weekend. I think I’m just going to relax.” “That’s great, well I’ll see you later, bye Y/N.” “Bye girl, have a great weekend.”

You gathered your stuff and headed towards your car. You noticed a text from Jensen, “Hey, how was your day?” You smiled and sent him a reply, “It was great, how was your day?” “It was good. I volunteered at the kids’ school today, so that was fun. I’m looking forward to tonight.” “Me too, I’ll text you more when I get home.”

You drove home and went inside, greeting your parents. “Hey, mom. I have another lesson tonight, so I won’t be home until later. I’m getting dinner out tonight.” “Okay, sounds good.”

You went to your room, grabbed a change of clothes and went to take a shower before you had to meet Jensen. Before jumping in the shower, you sent Jensen a text.

You: Just got home, jumping in the shower.

Jensen: I’m glad you made it home safely, and thanks for the image. 😉

You looked at his reply. Is he flirting with me?

You: You’re welcome. 😉 Getting in now. I’ll be right back.

Jensen: I’ll be waiting.

You took a quick shower, dried off and looked at the outfit you picked. Suddenly it didn’t seem good enough. You sighed and started looking through your clothes. You’re overthinking this. He’s there for lessons, nothing more. Get that out of your head. Oh but good lord did you see how his fingers pressed on those strings, and how his hand held the guitar. You bit your lip thinking about Jensen.

Grabbing your dark blue lace bra and matching panties, you slid them on. You decided on your favorite jeans, that fit you just right, and one of your band t-shirts. You decided to leave your hair down, but grabbed a hair tie for later.

Grabbing your phone you sent Jensen a text.

You: Okay, I’m done and getting ready to head out the door. I’ll be at the studio shortly if you decide to come early.

Jensen: Great, I’m almost ready so I’ll be heading that way soon too. What are you wearing? 😜

You: *sent picture* 😉

Jensen’s name kept popping up showing he was texting but nothing came through.

Shit! I shouldn’t have sent it. Great, now he’s thinking of a way to back out.

Jensen: Wow, you look beautiful. I can’t wait to see you in person.

You: Thank you. I can’t wait to see you either.

You blushed as you put your phone away. Heading down the stairs your mom looked at you. “Well don’t you look beautiful, must be some lesson.” She winked at you. “Mom, I’m just wearing jeans and a t-shirt.” “Okay, baby. Have fun tonight.” “Thanks mom, bye.”

You stopped at the store and grabbed a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, you knew it was his favorite and headed to the studio. As you walked up to unlock the door you heard a sultry voice behind you, “Hello, darlin’.” A shiver went down your spine. You knew it was Jensen before you even turned around.

You turned and smiled, “Hey, Jensen.” You looked him up and down, damn did he look good. You bit your lip as a slight blush filled your cheeks and a yearning filled your core. Unlocking the door, the two of you stepped in. “Let’s sit everything down over here on the counter.” You motioned towards the counter on the right.

Jensen sat the food down and saw the cake in your hands. “Did you really get a cake?” He asked excitedly. You nodded, “Yep, chocolate with chocolate frosting. Your favorite.” Jensen smiled at you and stepped closer to you, putting his hands on your waist he pulled you close. Your breath hitched. You could smell his intoxicating cologne. He smelled woodsy and like mint.

Jensen brushed a stray hair back and hugged you, “Thank you.” Your heart was racing and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You swallowed hard, “You’re welcome, Jensen.” You whispered.

The two of you stared at each other for a few minutes before pulling away. Jensen cleared his throat, “So I hope you don’t mind, but I picked up some BBQ from my favorite place downtown.” “BBQ is perfect, thank you.” Jensen pulled the containers out of the bag and you grabbed plates and silverware. The two of you grabbed some food and started eating.

The conversation over dinner was comfortable. Both of you talked about your family, you talked about your job, and the conversation drifted towards both of your failed marriages. You learned his marriage ended kinda like yours did. He and his ex just drifted apart. They both were gone all the time, and even though they tried to make it work, they just grew apart.

After the food was done, you were cleaning up and Jensen got out his guitar and music. While you cleaned, he played and sang. You could listen to him sing all day long. You stopped cleaning and leaned against the counter watching him.

The intensity in his eyes drove you wild. As he sang the vein in his neck popped out and you gasped. The shirt he was wearing showed off his toned body, and as he played his biceps flexed, causing you to clench your thighs and bite your lower lip.

Jensen looked up and noticed you were watching him, he also noticed the pink in your cheeks. He smiled at you. His green eyes seemed to sparkle. You finished cleaning and took a seat next to him. You were so flustered you could barely play your guitar, and he laughed. “Come here darlin’, let me show you the cord. He grabbed your hand and placed his fingers on yours, helping you play the notes. His hot breath rushed across your neck and his body pressed firmly behind yours.

Your breath hitched as you felt his firm fingers on yours. You turned your face to face him, “Jensen…” Before you could finish your sentence, his lips pressed against yours. You pulled back. “Oh god, I am so sorry, Y/N.” Jensen jumped up and started to pack his guitar away. You walked over to him, touched his arm, “Jensen, it’s okay.” He stood up and looked at you. You stepped closer to him, looking in his eyes. He closed the distance between you two, cupped your face in his hands and crashed his lips on yours.

You melted into his touch, and moaned in his mouth. His hands slid down your arms and pulled you by your waist closer to him. Your hands went behind his neck and your fingers danced in his hair.

Both of you deepen the kiss, Jensen’s tongue licked your lips, begging for entrance. You parted your mouth and soon your tongues were doing an intricate dance in each other’s mouth, fighting for dominance.

Jensen walked you back to the couch, not parting from your lips. Soon the need for air became too much. You both pulled away panting for air. Jensen sat down and pulled you down on his lap. You were straddling him and he pulled you back into his lips.

His hands traveled up your shirt and held onto your back. You could feel his growing erection and it excited you. Jensen’s fingers played with the hem of your shirt and you leaned up, giving him permission to remove it. His hands slid down and pulled your shirt up and over your head.

Jensen’s eyes turned dark with lust when he saw your lace bra. You could almost hear a low growl. You were self-conscious about your body and tried to hide a little. I mean, this is Jensen Ackles, he has dated and married movie stars and models. “Baby, don’t hide your body, you’re perfect.” He kissed down your collarbone, to your covered breasts.

You threw your head back at the contact. God his lips and fingers felt amazing on your body.

Jensen leaned forward a bit, and removed his shirt. Exposing his perfectly toned body. You groaned and danced your fingers down his chest. Jensen stood, lifting you up like you weighed nothing, spun you around and gently laid you on the couch. “Can I take these off?” He asked, motioning to your pants. You nodded yes, not trusting your voice. His fingers brushed against your skin as he unbuttoned the top button and unzipped your pants.

Your breathing grew faster as your heart pumped wildly in your chest. You lifted your hips and he pulled down your pants and panties in one pull. He groaned when he saw your exposed body, laying, waiting for him. You laid on the couch, in nothing but your bra. Jensen’s hands slipped behind you and you leaned forward letting him unhook your bra. As you laid back down, Jensen’s fingers danced over your shoulders and slid down your straps. Lightly raking your skin with his fingertips.

Goosebumps erupted on your skin as he touched you. Exposing your breasts, Jensen leaned back looking over your now naked form. You wanted to hide your body, but he wouldn’t let you. You were breathing faster as the anticipation in the room crackled with thickness. Jensen stood and removed his pants and boxers.

You let out a shuddered breath as you took in his perfect, toned body. His cock was hard and longer than you expected. You bit your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape your mouth.

“You okay, sweetheart? Are you sure you want this?” “Yes, Jensen. I’m sure.” Jensen nodded and kissed down your torso. He used his fingers to part your folds, feeling how wet you are. His fingers danced in and out of your folds, pressing your engorged clit, like he was playing an instrument. He knew how to work your body, like he had been doing it for years. His strong, calloused fingers found their way inside you. You moaned and gripped the couch as he hooked his fingers up. “Oh Jensen. Just like that. Oh god that feels so good.” Jensen’s fingers moved in and out of you, while his thumb rubbed circles on your clit. You felt yourself getting closer to your release. Flush filling your face, sweat beading on your forehead. Your ragged breath mixed with the instinctive moans filled the room. “Come on baby, I can feel you getting close, just let go for me. You can do it.” “Oh Jensen, I’m gonna cum!” “Cum for me, Y/N.” With that you were pushed over the edge. You came hard, so hard you saw stars.

Jensen rubbed until you were a squirming mess under him. As he helped you ride your high, he removed his fingers. You moaned at the loss of fullness. “You ready for me, sweetheart?” “Yes, Jensen, I need you. Please.”

Jensen retrieved a condom from his wallet and pumped himself a few times before putting it on. He slid it on and positioned himself between your legs. The tip of his cock pushed past your folds and into you. As Jensen pushed in, both of you let out a primal moan. He stopped, trying not to cum. “Sorry I need a minute.” He whispered. You giggled. He leaned up and started pumping in and out. His lips landed on yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Jensen was gentle with you, and with each thrust he stretched you like you’d never been stretched before.

His hands explored every inch of your body, your eyes kept finding each other’s and each time, Jensen softly kissed you. Every thrust, every touch felt like home. Your body was his and his was yours. Even if just in that moment. Jensen pulled you on top of him as he sat up, not pulling out of you. The change in position had you gripping his shoulders as you rode him. He was deeper than he was before. Each bounce sent you closer to your second release. You began bouncing as Jensen sucked on your breasts. “Jensen, I’m gonna cum again.” “Me too, cum for me baby.” You came hard around his cock, your walls squeezing his shaft and pulling his release out of him. With a thrust and a grunt, Jensen came too. Shooting his load into the condom.

As he finished, he leaned his forehead against yours and placed a soft kiss on your lips. Both of you had a light sheen on your bodies from the sweat. Your face was flush and so was his, and both of you were softly panting.

You slowly got off of him, making sure not to pull off the condom. Moving to the side, Jensen stood, placed another kiss on your lips and walked over to the trash can to remove the condom and clean himself up. You started to pull on your clothes, when he walked back over. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you again. “That was amazing, Y/N. Absolutely perfect.” You smiled, “Yes it was, thank you, Jensen.” He smiled and kissed you again.

You both got dressed and sat on the couch, holding each other. The room was filled with silence. Clearing your throat, you sat up and looked at him, “So, what does this mean? I’m fine if it was just to blow off steam. I just want to know.” “Well, I’d like to see where this goes, if you’re up for it.” Jensen looked at you as he said it. “Really, Jensen? I would love that.” “Good, because I’ve always wanted to say I was hot for teacher.” You laughed, and so did he.

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.

Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl

@hobby27 @manicjk @stoneyggirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jackles #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x reader

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the-kr8tor · 2 months ago

Note

COMPLETELY FORGOT TO CHECK UP ON YOUR WELL-BEING I'M ASHAMED OF MYSELF

How are you Katy?

I have another twins request (surprise surprise)

The twins being sick (my poor babies 🥺)

And Reader being so tired after trying to look after them because they're so clingy for Mummy and they won't stop sniffling (nooooo my poor children)

And Hobie coming back from patrol as early as possible after sensing his girls' discomfort and taking care of the babies (my eyes are filling with tears)

Awwwww, they're already my kids in my head, that sounds so sad but I love them 😭🥺

Hello, ml! I'm fine, thank you for asking ❤️ I hope you like this one!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, description of illness, brief mention of vomit, Billie and Ramona AU, twin AU, Dad AU, Dad! Hobie, Mum! Reader. Fluff.

Dad AU Masterlist

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Your shirt is covered in a combination of toddler snot and a hint of throw up. You would've changed by now but with the twins clinging onto you like you're their lifeline has you practically glued on their sides. Billie refuses to let you go with her tiny hands balled around the collar of your (Hobie's) old band shirt. She sniffs relentlessly, lashes wet with unshed tears. Meanwhile, her sister, Ramona has finally fallen asleep on your shared bed. She holds onto her baby blanket with the little guitars embroidered on it like it's the last cookie in the cookie jar. Still, even in her sleep she still refuses to let you go with her other fist enclosed around the hem of your shirt.

Sighing, your eyelids grow heavy and your stomach grumbles from hunger. You've only had sips of their chicken noodle soup you made a few hours ago. They wouldn't even have a little sip if you don't try it before them like a taste tester for a couple of princesses afraid of getting ‘poisoned.’ You have to start telling them the usual fairytales instead of actual history. You guess it was your fault when you accidentally left the telly open on the history channel instead of teletubbies like you were supposed to do. You kind of blame Hobie and his relentless kisses whenever he gets home, effectively distracting you from changing the channel to a more toddler appropriate one.

But thanks to the cooling weather, not even history lessons could calm them down from their fever and sniffles. This is the first time they've gotten this sick since you've brought them home from the hospital when they were just newborns. Everyone was right when they told you that when one kid gets sick, the other will surely follow. You can handle it, but with your growing hunger and fatigue, you really need Hobie to get home now.

You can't blame him for leaving while they're sick, the city needs him when he heard from his radio that goblin’s wreaking havoc downtown and the team couldn't handle it all on their own. He promised he'll be back quickly with meds and hot soup to quell their illness. It's been a few hours since then, now you're starting to worry. Add that with the girls' sickness acting up, your nerves are through the roof.

Mona gurgles in her sleep, her tiny fists unfurling around your shirt for only a brief second before clamping back down. Patting her back, you feel how clammy she is under her pastel pink pajamas.

“Mummy?” Billie lifts her curly head up from the crook of your neck, lips pouting, and snot dripping from her nostrils. She pats your cheek with her sweaty hand, an indication that her fever's going down so as her sister's, thank goodness.

“Yes, baby?” You whisper to her sweetly.

“‘m hungry.” Her frown deepens, eyes similar to Hobie's are staring back at you through wet lashes. “I want biscuits.”

You remember when she could barely keep the noodles down, moreso if it's cookies instead. But if cookies are what she wants, then cookies she shall get. Maybe it'll magically cure her. “Okay, but you have to let mummy go so I can get it for you—”

“No!” She immediately shoves her face back in the crook of your neck, then the sniffles follow. “Stay!”

You rub her back up and down to placate her. “Mac, your sister's sleeping.”

Billie kicks her tiny socked feet about, hands tugging relentlessly at your shirt. “Mummy, stay!” Cue the tears.

“Okay, okay, mummy will stay.” You coo at her, wincing when Ramona stirs from her slumber.

“I want biscuits.” She once again lifts her head up, sobs quieting down to a soft sniffle. “...Sorry.”

Your heart softens at her adorable apology, she definitely reminds you of her father. “It's alright, promise you'll be quiet for Mon-mon?” Billie nods, arms enveloping around your neck as you begin to sit up. Now for the daunting part, you have to escape from Mona's hold without waking her up.

Hand holding onto Billie, while the other gently unfurls Mona's fingers around your shirt, you take your time lest you have another grumpy and sick kid in your hands. With her pinky finally letting go after you tug at it, you smile victoriously while fixing your hold on Billie.

The bed squeaks as you stand up, wincing at the sound, you look back at the still sleeping Ramona curled around her baby blanket. Sighing, you stare at Billie, who has her index on her lips in a shushing motion. You tamp down a chuckle at her antics.

With one step at a time, you tiptoe around the messy room. The twins' clothes and towels are littered around the floors, same with tissues that have managed to miss the bin when you threw it haphazardly.

“Mummy, quiet?” Billie whispers or tries to when she still hasn't figured out how to actually whisper.

“Yes, baby, we need to be quiet.” As you get to to the door, the cold doorknob is stinging against your palm, the bedroom window squeaks open and before you could whirl around towards the sound— Hobie's heavy boots are already thumping loudly against the hardwood. “Hobie—”

“I got the meds and the soup—” Mona's sudden wailing stops him in his tracks. Tears roll down her chubby cheeks as she kicks her feet under the blankets, her rough coughs hurting your chest. “Ah shi—” you give Hobie a look. “— sorry.” He winces just as when Billie joins the cacophony of crying.

—

The sheets have been changed, the girls are showered and fed. Their temperatures are completely normal now, and their coughing and sniffing is down to a minimum. You're also fed thanks to Hobie's famous sandwich he made specially for you. And thanks to the shared effort and teamwork, both girls are sleeping and you've finally cleaned yourself up.

As you get out of the shower, you catch Hobie pressing gentle kisses atop Billie and Mona's heads. He pecks them both equally, adding one to Billie and Mona simultaneously before repeating it when he thinks that the kisses aren't equal to one another. Billie's cheek is squished on Hobie's side while Mona curls around his other side sweetly.

“They won't grumble if you don't give them the equal number of kisses.” You whisper to him, wet hair still clinging to your cheek as you put on a clean shirt. Fully dressed, you see him tilt his head with a playful smile tugging at his pierced lips. You smile back, admiring him in his soft clothes with your socks on his feet. You cross the small distance towards him whilst he tries to reach out towards you with his arms full of sleeping toddlers. “But I will.”

He makes grabby hands at you. “Kiss?”

Sitting down next to him, he scooches as much as he can while the girls are clinging to him in their sleep. “How could I say no?” With your soft lips on him, you kiss him back gently until he's satisfied that you got an even number of kisses. His eyes are still closed when you pull away. “You sure you're okay?” You reach over Billie to fix his windblown eyebrow, index laying it down carefully.

Hobie leans tiredly against your hand, and in turn you cradle his cheek, thumb running along his jaw. “‘m fine, nothin’ I couldn't handle. Are you?”

“Well, I don't smell like sick anymore.” You shrug, beaming down at him. He chuckles softly, neck craning to kiss the pads of your fingers. “And you're home safe and sound, I'm okay.”

He sighs, eyes completely soft for you. “I'll stay with you this time, and the next, I promise. ‘m sorry I left you alone.” The warm light of the lamp shines on his apologetic face.

You lean closer, careful not to wake either of the girls nestled in each of his arms. “I know, but you can't promise that. I knew what I was getting into when we had them. And I'm perfectly fine with that as long as you come home to us…” Your nose nudges his own, he hums slowly, like a cat purring in content. “...Preferably in one piece.”

Hobie chuckles, heart eyes blinking slowly at you, and pursed lips reaching towards the tip of your nose. “Thank you, love.”

Your palm rests on his warm chest, feeling his heartbeat through his (your) shirt. “Part of the job, Hobie.” With a smile, you feel him tug at your collar, pulling you down towards him further to meet with his lips. “Careful, we might wake them up—” A sneeze rises up your throat, suddenly releasing it on Hobie's shocked face. The girls barely stir. “Shi– sorry.” You sniff, throat feeling like it's full of spikes.

“Ah shit.”

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joy-of-jamming · 4 months ago

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Fingerstyle Guitar - Lesson 8 - Fun Times - Beginner Guitar Lessons for ...

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musicalacademy · 2 months ago

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Find Your Music Sanctuary: Music School Near You

Music is more than sound—it’s emotion, expression, and connection. Whether you’re an aspiring artist, a passionate hobbyist, or someone who wants to explore the rhythm of life, finding the right Music School in Bukit Timah can set the stage for your journey.

Why Choose a Music School?

Music schools are more than just places to learn. They are sanctuaries where creativity blossoms, discipline is honed, and lifelong passions are nurtured. A good music school doesn’t just teach notes; it builds confidence, ignites imagination, and fosters a sense of belonging among like-minded individuals.

At Rocktone Music Academy, we believe that music is for everyone. Whether you're a beginner or advanced, there’s a place for you here.

What to Look for in a Music School

Finding the right music school means considering these key factors:

1. Experienced Teachers

A great teacher makes all the difference. They don’t just teach—they inspire. Look for schools where instructors have solid musical backgrounds and a knack for connecting with students of all levels.

2. Comprehensive Programs

From classical piano to electric guitar and even vocal training, a wide range of classes ensures you can explore your interests. Variety opens doors to new possibilities and helps you grow as a musician.

3. Flexible Schedules

Life gets busy, but that shouldn’t stop your musical journey. Find a school that offers classes at different times so you can balance learning with your daily routine.

4. Student Performances

Opportunities to perform build confidence and provide real-world experience. Whether it’s a recital, open mic, or band showcase, a school that values performance helps you shine.

5. State-of-the-Art Facilities

Practicing in a well-equipped studio makes learning enjoyable and effective. Comfortable spaces, modern instruments, and good acoustics make every session worthwhile.

Why Rocktone Music Academy Stands Out

At Rocktone Music Academy, we bring your musical dreams to life. Here’s why we’re your ultimate choice:

Top-Notch Instructors: Our teachers are seasoned professionals with years of experience in teaching and performing. They tailor lessons to match your pace and style.

Diverse Courses: From beginner guitar lessons to advanced music production, there’s something for everyone.

Community Vibes: We’re more than a school—we’re a family. Regular jam sessions, workshops, and events create a sense of belonging.

Modern Facilities: Our studios are equipped with the latest instruments and recording equipment to give you an edge.

What You’ll Gain

Skills that Last a Lifetime: Whether you want to master an instrument or write your own songs, the skills you learn will stay with you forever.

Confidence on Stage: Performing in front of others can be daunting, but with our support, you’ll find your voice and shine.

A Lifelong Passion: Once you experience the joy of making music, it becomes a part of who you are.

Enroll Today

Your musical journey begins here. Whether you're a curious beginner or a seasoned player, there’s always more to discover at a Music School nearby. Visit Rocktone Music Academy’s website at www.rocktonemusic.com to explore our programs, meet our instructors, and book your first class.

Music isn’t just something you hear—it’s something you feel, create, and share. Let Rocktone Music Academy be your guide to this incredible world. Your sanctuary of sound awaits!

#best music school singapore #children drum lessons singapore #music school singapore #music school in bukit timah #private guitar lessons #ukulele lessons singapore #guitar lessons #music classes #jazz guitar lessons #online guitar lesson #Children Drum Lessons Singapore #Free Beginner Guitar Lessons #Guitar Lessons Singapore #Private Guitar Lessons Singapore #Music Class Bukit Timah #Music Courses Bukit Timah #Music School in Bukit Timah #Music School Nearby #Music school near me

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daffi-990 · 1 month ago

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by @tizniz 🩵

Have some Buckley Sibling feels from the daylight wip.

His family had never been warm and happy like you’d imagine a family would be. His parents were distant and never showed an interest in either of their children until they figured out Buck actually possessed talent that could be profitable to them.

The only good thing and the only person he’d actually call family and mean it, was his sister Maddie.

She made living under Phillip and Margret’s roof bearable.

During stiff family dinners, Maddie would play footsies with him under the table and they’d pull faces at each other when their parents weren’t looking.

When he had nightmares she was the one to crawl into his bed and hold him until he fell back asleep, her loving embrace keeping the bad dreams away.

She was the one who encouraged him to seek out guitar lessons with Mr Glover, the school music teacher. She even gave up her recesses to sit in with him for his first couple of lessons because he was nervous.

She made him feel seen and like he mattered.

But then she left.

Saw a chance to get out and took it.

And Buck didn’t blame her. He’d been glad she was free. Until he realised that she’d just escaped one cage only to be trapped in another.

No pressure tagging: @steadfastsaturnsrings @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @lover-of-mine @smilingbuckley @queerdiazs @spagheddiediaz @spotsandsocks @sibylsleaves @thewolvesof1998 @thelikesofus @watchyourbuck @wildlife4life @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @devirnis @diazheartsbuckley @disasterbuck @rainbow-nerdss @rewritetheending @theotherbuckley @inell @actuallyitsellie @bekkachaos @beyourownanchor6 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @wellcollapse @playinginthunderstorms @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @fiona-fififi @glorious-spoon @giddyupbuck @hotshotsxyz @honestlydarkprincess @kitteneddiediaz @chronicowboy @missmagooglie @monsterrae1 and as always, if you have something you’d like to share -> consider this your official tag 🏷️

#daffi writes #I was really hoping this fic would be short but I keep diving into stuff 🙈#I actually don’t know how many words I’m at atm cos it’s all being written in like #four different notes on the notes app 😅#buddie wip #daylight series

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meepxii · 1 year ago

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The Madrigal-Fontana family

Mateo Vicente Madrigal Fontana

He is a twin, and the oldest child of his family. His gift is to make astral trips to any part of the world by meditation. When he's using his gift, a third eye glows pink on his forehead and he can also levitate. He's the edgy cousin of the family.

Fun facts about him:

Mateo doesn't like his middle name (Vicente). The only one who can call him that is his mother.

He's a calm boy, but gets into trouble very often 'cause he has no filter and can sound "rude."

He's Itzel's favorite child, and they're very close.

He and his twin sister are the closest, and do many things together, and although sometimes he can't stand her and treats her rudely, he's always behind his sister, protecting her.

He likes poetry and is a hopeless romantic.

His favorite place is the beach, and he goes there whenever he needs peace.

When he uses his gift, the pink third eye that appears on his forehead is real and functional. His sister sometimes pokes it to annoy him.

He likes to meditate in Dolores' room.

He's the only one of the Madrigal-Fontana children who got Bruno's wavy hair.

Dalia Elizabeth Madrigal Fontana

She's Dalia, Mateo's twin sister. Dalia has the gift of making clones of herself and other people. She can make up to five clones, and they function as a hive mind if she wants. She can also let them act on autopilot. She's daddy's little princess, and the spoiled brat of her family.

Fun facts about her:

Dalia is Bruno's favorite child. The two of them formed a very strong bond since she was a baby, and Bruno fulfills many of her whims. For the same reason, she grew up accustomed to getting what she wants, and if she doesn't get it, she gets frustrated and cries. She knows that's not okay, and it's something she's still working on.

Since she was a child she's very involved in the theater that her father founded and he relates a lot with her cousin Camilo, so she loves to act, and her biggest influences are the two of them. For that reason she got a gift similar to Camilo's.

Her way of showing affection, in addition words of affirmation, are her jokes. She likes to play pranks on her close family and friends.

She shows off her family quite a bit, and she's a big fan of her parents' relationship.

She gets into trouble easily because she is very talkative, mischievous and witty.

She has a strong sense of loyalty toward her loved ones, so she's the first to defend them when they are getting attacked. More specifically, Bruno and Esmeralda.

Her best friend is her twin brother, and they both watch each other's backs.

She is a good girl, but it's better to have her as a friend than an enemy, because she brings out the worst side of her.

Perla Esmeralda Madrigal Fontana

And this is Esme, the youngest of the Madrigal grandchildren. Her gift is earthbending. She's a sweet and naive girl, and since her power is directly related to her emotional strength, she's unable to get out of control. She has had problems in the town due to the limited scope of her power, and they often compare her negatively with her father.

Fun facts about her:

Esmeralda is considered the baby of the family, and her parents and siblings treat her as such.

She is abuela's favorite granddaughter because of her resemblance to Bruno, and since Esme was a child, she's been overprotective of her.

She's also very close to Julieta's daughters, especially Isabela. As a child she took her gardening together, which influenced her gift of earthbending.

Despite being introverted, she has always been a very sociable and kind girl, although a little naive.

She is such a crybaby.

She takes guitar lessons with her dad and Mirabel.

She also likes to do crafts with her mom. The two of them are in charge of making the scenery for Bruno's plays.

She is the most attached to Bruno's rats of the Madrigal-Fontana children, and there isn't a day when she doesn't have a rat on top of her.

Of her siblings, she's the most similar to the Madrigal family, and she inherited many of her abuelo Pedro's traits.

She doesn't get along well with her maternal grandmother, who has always preferred her sister Dalia for being more like the Fontanas.

I don't think I've ever published anything of my fankids here, sooo... here they are! I tried to use a color palette consistent with the Madrigal family, without filling it completely with green. It was also very fun to make the patterns representative of their gifts.

#I still don't know how to use tumblr #Madrigal-Fontana family #encanto #fanchild #encanto fanart #madrigal encanto #bruno madrigal #encanto oc appreciation #fankid #encanto oc #alternate universe #encantosona #fanchildren

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nicohischierz · 1 year ago

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love at first trip: jamie drysdale

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hisch if you want to join the taglist let me know!!

tani speaks: so ironic that i was working on this before he got traded 🥹

“elijah zegras, watch out!” you yelled at your nephew.

however, the young boy followed after his father. so he continued running, his footsteps and laughter reverberating through the training facility.

you should’ve looked where you were going instead of cursing the young boy because not long after your shout, did you bump into someone.

well, you tripped over your nephew into the arms of his father's teammate.

"are you okay?" the body asked.

although your body felt perfectly content staying within the confines of the man's arms, you knew you had to pull away from him. and so reluctantly, you pushed yourself away and gave a curt nod.

"uncle jimmy!" elijah yelled.

jamie bent down and picked up the young ball of energy, spinning the four-year-old. no one had to question who the boys father was seeing as he was a splitting image of trevor.

trevor showed up in the hallway not long after. "i heard some ruckus and I just had to check it out," he teased, going over to tickle his son's belly.

once he had shown his affection to his son, trevor turned to you and gave you a short hug. you enveloped your brother-in-law and assured him that it was no problem.

"aunt y/n/n, will i see you tomorrow?" your nephew asked.

you shrugged and bent down to his level "if your dad's paying then I'll see you, same time and same place." you answered. elijah thought about it for a bit and then nodded his head.

elijah gave you one last hug before he spotted one of alex killorn's children.

"thanks again y/n," trevor thanked.

you waved him off. "i love the little guy, plus I sat him. in front of the tv and he was good for an hour before he needed me which is surprising considering he's your kid," you poked fun at trevor.

"ha ha. very funny,"

you smiled at trevor and checked the time before heading off to your apartment and waving bye to his quiet teammate.

“who is that?” jamie asked immediately.

“y/n.”

jamie rolled his eyes at trevor “yeah i gathered that. i didn’t know you had another sister,” he admitted:

trevor burst out in laughter. the idea that the two of you were related was abysmal. although, he is married to your sister.

“nah that’s val’s sister,” trevor answered.

trevor then went on to explain that you were in your senior year of college and elijah had managed to guilt trip you into spending more time with him.

the next time jamie saw you was at elijah's fourth birthday.

he's spent the whole week building up the courage to talk to you.

but his hard work was crushed when he saw you wrapped in the arms of another man. a man who was way taller than him.

"who's the giant?" mason asked when he, jamie and trevor were together.

"y/n's asshole boyfriend," trevor answered.

"are you just saying that or is he really an asshole?" jamie asked.

"he's a good kid but he's so focused on basketball that sometimes he leaves y/n disappointed. like he forgot her birthday because he was watching film," trevor explained.

the two canadians grimaced. that never flies.

and so, jamie watched you the whole party as you laughed with your boyfriend. meanwhile, his heart clenched at the feeling of losing his chance.

jamie didn't see you again unless you attended a game. the interaction was so rare, that when you came up to speak to him one night, he was shocked.

but alas, that was the last time jamie saw you.

until valentines day.

jamie was oulled away from his guitar lesson by a rapid knock on his door.

"y/n?" he questioned.

out of all things he could've thought of. jamie never dreamt of you showing up at his apartment door on valentines day.

his shock was smothered when he saw the mascara running down your face. immediately, he let you in without another word and directed you towards his couch.

he offered you a cup of water and let you regain your composure before asking you what was wrong.

"he broke up with me."

"what?"

"my boyfriend. he broke up with me because I was too clingy which I think is utter bullshit because I let him do whatever he wanted." you spat.

among all the thoughts on why someone would cheat on a person like you. jamie only voiced out one.

“how do you know where i live?” he asked.

you finally looked at the boy and gave him a sheepish shrug of your shoulders. “z always left your address incase of an emergency when i look after eli. i guess i just learnt it cause this was the first place i came to,”

jamie pulled you gently into his chest and rubbed your hair.

“i’ll go grab some clothes for you to change into. you can sleep in my room,” he whispered, letting you go.

that night your dreams were filled of the blue eyed canadian downstairs as his scent filled your nostrils.

and jamie.

well his dreams were always filled with you and life that could be.

#jamie drysdale blurbs #jamie drysdale imagines #nhl imagine #nicohischierz writes

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mermaidgirl30 · 11 months ago

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✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Part 1: Welcome to the Moulin Rouge✨

A/N: SO excited for me and @mountainsandmayhem to bring you a Moulin Rouge Joel Miller series ❤️ We are both so excited to be writing this and hope you love it as much as we do! Hang on tight for the ride of your life between these two on their angsty, beautiful love story 🥰 Comments and reblogs mean the world to us! Chapters are in both reader’s and Joel’s POV. No explicit smut in first chapter.

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Tags: Angst, unprotected p in v, oral, fingering, forbidden love, murder, fluff and smut, jealousy, moulin rouge au, soulmates being in love, protective Joel, no outbreak, reader is 20 and Joel is 29, tags will be updated each chapter

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t know what awaits him as he takes on a maintenance job at the Moulin Rouge. He doesn’t know he’ll meet the absolute love of his life, the Sparkling Diamond, as his world comes crashing down around him fast. Will he be able to stay away when he’s warned not to touch the dancers? Will he listen or will he challenge that pull that draws him to the one thing that sets his soul on fire?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Welcome to the Moulin Rouge

Your whole childhood centered around death, but you never thought about the possibility of yourself dying, never thought about how you’d like to go. As your vision blurs and the world begins to silence, you realise that this is the ultimate way to go. For her. Saving her is all that matters, saving the person you love the most in the entire world, even if you’ve never met her.

Sarah, please Joel. Name her Sarah.

At times, your childhood may have seemed sad or tragic to the outside eye, but to you it has been nothing short of amazing. You don’t remember the incident that took both your parents, you were too young, so young that you can’t even picture their faces. You were brought to stay with the only family you had left - your mom’s much older brother.

Your uncle Edward was a quiet and kind man, he was also the owner of Moulin Rouge. A bright and colorful dance hall, filled with sparkling costumes and lively music. For the longest time you weren’t allowed outside of the living quarters, but you remember laughter and cheering filtering through the thin walls. This place was magic to you in your childhood naivety.

You remember begging the dancers to teach you the steps to the songs you overheard in the night. Occasionally, one of them would show you a kick or a twirl that you’d practice alone in your room until the muscles in your legs were stretched and sore, no longer able to support your tiny frame.

During the day, a tutor came in for a few hours to teach you and the few other children that lived there, meals were brought to your living quarters by an older woman who rarely spoke to you. Uncle Edward was alway home for those meals, but often had stacks of papers to go through. Most of the time it was just you and the broken guitar and pottery wheel your uncle had given you. But overall you were alone, far away music and laughter to keep you company.

For your thirteenth birthday your uncle surprised you with dance lessons. He knew how much you wanted to learn, and could practically feel the energy buzzing off you every time your eyes darted to the performing dancers. So he gave in, gifting you with something that might bring you a little joy in the isolated burlesque. A silent way of telling you he was sorry for not being around much and leaving you to delve in your loneliness inside your vacant room.

“Well, little petal,” your uncle says as you blow out the singular candle sitting on top of the small cake to celebrate you turning sixteen. “I think you’re old enough now to come up and watch my diamonds perform. What do you say? Would you like to come see the show?”

You practically jumped from your seat, mouthful of chocolate cake, “Yes, Uncle! Please. Nothing could make me happier.”

“Tomorrow night I will bring you up to see it. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.”

You’d seen the costumes and the women in their makeup before, you’ve even been out to the dance hall and on the stage. But that was only during the day, when the tables were only occupied by up-turned chairs, the overhead lights were off, and the band was nothing more than an empty pit in front of the stage.

The next night, your uncle brought you a new sparkly pink dress, and had the hair and make-up ladies get you all dolled up to watch. You looked at yourself in the mirror and had never felt more beautiful, seeing yourself as one of the famous diamonds of the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

The show was like nothing you’d ever seen before. You didn’t know so many varieties of reds and blues and purples existed. The women kicked their legs in unison, men cheering and clapping as they swooshed their large billowing skirts. The music filled your ears with joy and wonder, the sounds crisper than they were through the walls. Laughter and happiness held you like a tight hug. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

As the show wound down, your Uncle leaned to you and said it was time to head to bed, “You’ve seen the show, little petal. Now the adults will indulge in wine and talk about things not for your ears.”

You didn’t argue, simply kissing your uncle on the cheek and saying, “Thank you, Uncle. I am going to practice harder so I can become a real diamond one day!”

You floated down the hallway. With your eyes still swarming with the bright colors of the show and your future dreams you hadn’t realised that you opened the door before the one to take you home, and this door led to something both sinister and unspeakable - it led to darkness. The room was only lit by candles sprawled across the wall, casting looming shadows of the acts happening before your very eyes.

You stood in the doorway taking in men and women completely naked, rubbing up against one another incessantly. Your tutor taught you that these areas of your body are not to be shared, they are only for you. Yet here they are, almost unashamed as they grind. The men all appear to be having a good time, but the women - they’re crying out.

Are they in pain? What are these men doing to them? Why are some men just watching? They should be helping. Your uncle, does he know that this is happening? Is this what his diamonds do?

Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

You nervously approached your Uncle about it a few days later. “Oh, my sweet little petal. I’m sorry that you had to witness that. I promise you, none of those women were in pain. Not all my diamonds dance like that, and you never will. I meant it when I offered you a spot to dance, fully clothed and on the stage only. I only hope that you do not think less of me now that you know what goes on behind closed doors of the Moulin Rouge.”

Four Years Later

Joel stumbles into the doors of the Moulin Rouge after seeing the maintenance worker needed sign displayed in bold letters outside the burlesque. This was the last place he wanted to end up, the last place he’d be caught dead in; but he needed something, and anything was better than the minimal income of selling his woodwork. He couldn’t get by anymore by only getting one or two customers every couple of weeks, if he was lucky. It wasn’t enough to pay the rent of his small, cramped apartment. Wasn’t enough to feed himself day and night. He needed more, and this was his shot.

He pushes the heavy black doors open, quickly tucking his red flannel button-up into his pressed pants, needing to look his best if he wants to get this job. He has to get it, has to impress whoever is the owner of this club.

He finds the first person he can spot, quickly getting the attention of a bartender as he washes crystal glasses with a thin rag behind the sleek bar top.

“Sorry to bother you, but I saw the sign out front that said you need some help with maintenance around here?” he asks briskly as he stares at the bartender with eyes that say he’s desperate. His hands come to rest on the bar top and he fights the urge to nervously drum his fingers along it.

The bartender looks him over as he sets down a glass, nodding his head. “Oh, yes. Let me go grab the owner real quick. Be right back, wait here,” he says as he runs in the opposite direction, disappearing behind a long hallway. Joel nervously pushes back his outgrown curls, silently cursing to himself for buying that loaf of bread instead of getting a haircut. His big brown eyes dart curiously around the club, trying to take it all in.

It’s light outside as the sun glistens in through the drawn crimson curtains, some dancers sauntering on stage as they practice their moves, swaying their hips to a nonexistent beat. Joel averts his eyes and takes in the rest of the large room - it’s filled with tables that are meant for the men to smoke cigars and drink their alcohol as they drool over the women of the burlesque. All lust and no love, the way the burlesque was set up to be. Joel was never into this scene, never fit in with any of those types of men, but he was desperate, he needed work and this may very well be the only way he can get any.

A tall, thin man walks into the room with slicked back sandy hair and green eyes that are as sharp as a snake’s. He eyes Joel carefully, one hand resting in his pocket, the other stretching to shake Joel’s. Joel wastes no time and reaches a hand out, feeling a firm grasp as the owner shakes his hand.

“The name’s Edward. And you are?” he asks with a gentle smile.

“I’m Joel. Joel Miller,” he says with nerves running through his body, the back of his neck slick with sweat. He’s nervous he won’t get it, nervous he’ll leave empty handed with no job. He’ll fight for it though because he’s a fighter, and he doesn’t give up easily.

“So, I hear you’re interested in the maintenance job. You got any experience?” Edward asks as he leans against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest as he examines Joel again, taking in his flannel and tan pants, his worn work boots.

“Yes, sir. Got years of experience with fixin’ things. Anything from sinks to building homes. Even have a little woodworking shop on the side,” he says proudly as he tries not to fidget with the buttons on his flannel.

“Hmmm,” Edward hums as he looks him over again carefully, those bright green eyes staring at Joel’s clothes like he’s judging him. Joel swallows down that dry lump of self doubt creeping in. “You seem capable. How old are you? Think you can handle working at nights, too? Gets pretty rowdy around here when the moon comes up, but that’s when we need someone the most,” he presses, eyes shifting over him as his brow raises in question again, waiting for Joel to respond.

“Just about to turn thirty and ‘course. Nights don’t bother me one bit. I can even start today, if I can,” Joel says with a determined smile as he shoves his left hand deep into his pocket, praying he’ll get the job.

“I see. Well then, looks like you got yourself a new gig. See you tonight at let’s say 7:00 pm,” he says, reaching a hand out to Joel. For most men that would be a question, but Edward is a very rich and powerful man, he doesn’t ask for things, he demands them. Joel doesn’t hesitate for a second and puts his grip in Edward’s, shaking in agreement.

“Thank you, thank you! You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” he says with tears almost filling his eyes. A job, he finally has a job that’ll get him by just fine. No more nights of going hungry. He can finally breathe a second, if not more.

Before he turns to leave, Edward puts a hand on his shoulder and turns him back around carefully. “Oh, forgot to mention something. There’s only one condition I ask of you. Don’t touch my dancers. They’re strictly for the guests that pay,” he says with furrowed brows, his eyes burning into him, as if to see if Joel will flinch at all.

“That’ll be no problem on my part. Promise,” Joel confirms with a nod of his head, his tousled curls moving with the motion.

“Good, good…” Edward hums out. “Alright, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” he says with a wave as he turns around and heads back behind crimson curtains, disappearing into a dark hallway.

Joel can’t help but smile as he heads out the doors of the Moulin Rouge, stepping into the warm sunshine as it bathes across his tanned skin. He takes a breath of fresh air as it smells of autumn leaves and new hope.

Things start to feel like they’re looking up, like something nirvanic was right on the cusp. What Joel doesn’t know is just what waits around that heavy crimson curtain for him. He doesn’t know the beautiful disaster he’s about to step into. A Sparkling Diamond that will take over his life forever. Someone so precious, so special, so indescribably unique. Someone so very - you.

Joel makes sure to get to the Moulin Rouge fifteen minutes early, wanting nothing more than to give off a good impression. The burlesque is filling up quickly as the sun fades away, the bright full moon taking its place in the sky, stars scattering around it.

When he walks inside the double doors, he sees that the dance hall is filling up quickly with men who smoke expensive cigars and drink bottles of whiskey that he can only dream of affording. He makes his way further into the entrance, his eyes taking in his surroundings, noticing that the large room looks nothing like earlier when it was closed.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings as red curtains drape across the crimson wallpaper. The dance floor is littered with burlesque dancers that lift their skirts high and tease the men as they surround them, hoping to entice the wealthiest one. Money is what they’re after and selling themselves is their only shot at making any extra tips for the night.

Joel clenches his jaw at the sight and turns his head, waiting at the front until he finally spots Edward in a black pressed suit. His blonde hair slicked back tight, looking around to make sure his guests are happy and taken care of. When he sees Joel, he walks toward him and puts a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

“Ahh, there you are. Come along now. I’ll show you around,” he says gladly.

After that, he shows Joel the burlesque. He takes him to the maintenance closet and gives him a key to access it - metal tools and large shelves cover the entirety of the inside. Next he takes him down long, dark corridors, past rooms that are locked shut. Just when Joel thinks he's seen it all, they head up to the second story. Sweeping down wooden laden hallways, passed the balcony that overlooks the large city, and through winding rooms that seem to have no end. He had no idea it was so large and spacious here; didn’t even realise people lived here. Joel starts to think more softly towards Edward, sure these women put themselves in vulnerable positions night after night, but they have safe housing and a sense of family and community back here.

Edward takes Joel back down toward the main ballroom where the entertainment is held every night. Just as he latches on to the spiral staircase, he sees a man dragging a dancer with barely anything on into a dark room at the end of the luminescent hallway with red carpet sprawled across the floor. He shoves her in as he starts working his hands up her body, and Joel can see the mass of bodies already in the room as he closes the door, concealing moans and lust on the other side of the tarnished doorway.

Joel gulps and looks back toward the ground, keeping his eyes off the pleasure room. He knows what goes on in these walls, knows what filth lies in every corner. The stench of money and sex encompass the room, he can almost taste it on the tip of his rough tongue. He finds it revolting, men using these women's bodies. No love to be seen in these walls. Only perversions and sexual desire. He turns away sharply and descends the stairs, almost running into the back of Edward.

“I believe one of the wooden tables over by the stage needs some maintenance. The legs are collapsing, think you can do something about that?” he asks with a raised brow as he points at a dark wooden table with the legs barely hanging on.

“Sure. Probably just needs some tightening up. Easy fix,” Joel nods.

“Excellent. I have guests to greet, so fix that and then come find me,” just as he turns on his heel, he stops and looks back at Joel. Green eyes narrowing, a finger pointing in Joel’s direction. “Remember,” he says with venom in his voice, “Do not touch my dancers. They’re only for paying customers, and you cannot afford them.”

Joel only nods, letting Edward know he understands. With that, Edward turns and heads for the main doors, greeting more men as they pack in like sardines. Joel sighs and heads for the maintenance closest, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that shoots through his gut at the backhanded warning Edward gave.

Don’t touch the dancers…you cannot afford them.

Even if Joel could afford it, he would never do what these men are doing. The soft, beautiful women of this place deserve to be treasured, not pawed at and used. He wasn’t a rabid dog. He could control himself unlike all the other men that crowded the Moulin Rouge.

He grabs up a metal wrench and shoves some nuts and bolts deep into his pocket. When he makes his way back to the table he starts to assess the damage. This would be much easier to fix in his well lit workshop, but there’s no carrying this table away from the stage and through the crowd of hungry men.

Now that he’s thrust in the middle of the wooden dance floor, he can see the burlesque dancers seeking out the richest looking men, sitting on their laps and letting them put their dirty paws all over their bodies. The men laugh, carrying on conversations as they fondle their breasts, leaning down to trail kisses up their necks. Some get up and lead the women down the long, dark corridor. Back to the pleasure room. Back to their impending doom.

The three men at the table next to him have one girl propped up in front of them, all of their hands grabbing different areas of her body, asking her if she wants all three of them; the men are easily twenty years older than the petite and innocent looking blonde in front of them. Joel feels for the dancers, but there isn’t anything he can do. It’s business. It’s all about the fucking money and pleasure. Pleasure sells, and this is what most men desire. Sex.

The room grows louder as men cheer from the crowded tables. Some swarming the end of the lit up stage to get a peek at the next performer. Some start chanting, yelling in demand for the next poor soul to dance across that stage, right into the pit of vipers that are ready to spit venom at whatever girl walks out next.

The cigar smoke lingers in the air as crystal glasses clink in cheers, alcohol spilling over on the tabletops. Joel knows that’ll leave a huge mess for him and the other staff to clean up after closing. He tightens the bolts under the table, winding the wrench as he tries to turn his focus away from the lust filled crowd. They’re just a bunch of sick fucks who get off on ripping away the innocence and dignity of women. Nothing more than their play things. Theirs to possess and own for a few hours. It’s cruel and vile, disgusting in itself.

Joel was never the type of guy to use a woman. He’d never dream of hurting anyone. He was thoughtful and charming, a man who minds his manners and works hard for everything he has.

He digs harder into the leg of the table, trying to mute the hooting and hollering that is getting louder by the second. The sounds of the men start to overlap until it’s muffled and pressing on his eardrums, running along the nerves that wire his brain. He concentrates on the task at hand, shutting out the noise as he tries to fix the table.

“The Sparkling Diamond!”

“She’s coming on stage now!”

“Look, look!”

The men nearest him yell to each other, babbling about the Sparkling Diamond as the lights turn crimson and dark around the room, crystal chandeliers send glistening reflections across the expensive tailored suits that fill the crowded room.

“Here she comes, boys!”

Just then, the lights go out completely and a spotlight shines on the wide stage. Crimson curtains splay over the sides, exposing the long walkway where dancers show off for the men. The crowd goes quiet, a few whistles shrouding the silence as a slow, sensual song covers the room. The men pound on the stage, yelling for the Sparkling Diamond to come out. Joel thinks she must be something special if she has the entire room practically panting with anticipation. The wild men crawl towards the stage, pushing each other to get to the front so they can get the best view. Joel doesn’t know anything about a Sparkling Diamond, but he’s intrigued. Just what were they getting all worked up about?

Before he can comprehend what's happening, he hears the click of heels travel across the stage. He rises slowly, seeing the pretty figure that dances under the bright spotlight, the men now screaming and throwing their hands out, begging to get a touch of the enchantress that graces their presence. When she’s fully in view he freezes, dropping the wrench to the floor as it crashes with a loud thud against the spotless wood. It suddenly feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. Joel braces himself against the table, the sight before him nearly knocking him back down to his knees.

It’s you.

The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in his entire life. Long, soft curls cascade past your shoulders and bounce around with every move you make on the lit up stage. Your short pink dress barely grazes the curve of your thighs as your arms raise overhead and you spin slowly. As you bring your arms back down, your red painted fingernails caress your curls, then tease the jawline of your flawless face. Your cheeks flush from the attention before you gently bite the tip of your finger, red lipstick sitting matted to your delicate lips.

Joel thinks they look soft to the touch, delicate even. Your lips call to him, almost scream his name. Joel, Joel, Joel. And he wants to answer it. God, does he want to answer that call.

He watches the way you twirl, fluttering your eyelashes as you look down at the men, seducing them effortlessly. Performing is what you were meant to do. When you finally look at Joel he falls completely apart, all his threads coming untied in a heap, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

He stands there frozen, sinking his nails into the hardwood table as he sucks in a shaky breath, almost unable to fully take in the vision that stands mere inches before him. He can’t hear the carnal men anymore, can’t smell the cigar smoke that encases the air, can’t focus on anything that even remotely takes his attention from the beauty that lights up the room. He can only focus on you. He feels a pull from his chest, like an invisible string, forcing him to look at nothing else but you. The Sparkling Diamond that draws men to the Moulin Rouge, and the one thing he knows will get him fired.

Your eyes sparkle and shine like a rare gemstone, pulling Joel in like a siren’s forbidden song, a lull that drags him under the dark depths of the sea. The smile you wear doesn’t quite reach your eyes, a sadness there that he can’t quite place. The men claw and reach for you like starving pigs, acting like you’re just a piece of meat to pass around to all the others to get a quick taste of.

It makes him sick the way they objectify your body, only caring about what’s underneath the short shimmery dress you wear. Joel doesn’t stare at your curves, doesn’t get sucked into whatever fantasy the rest of the men are in. He just stares at your eyes. Beautiful, sparkling. He’d cross oceans just to have a chance to memorize each fleck and color that maps out those starry eyes. Like roadmaps to his soul, leading him home to the deep depths of those glistening irises. And that’s when something snaps, he can’t - no, he won’t let any of these men put one grimy finger on you. Whatever it takes he’ll do it. He makes a silent vow to keep you safe, protect you at all cost.

There’s only one condition, don’t touch the dancers.

Edward’s voice plays through Joel’s mind on repeat, warning him to not tempt fate. But fate had already been tempted when he saw you up on that stage. He’d quit, starve, be homeless on the street if it meant he could have a chance to be with you. He’d give it all just to be able to touch you, to know you, to have you. He’d leave it all for you. His sweet, Sparkling Diamond.

You spin and turn, kicking your feet up to show off your smooth, long legs that all the men drool over. You turn to the right, drifting your eyes in the direction of a man you’ve never seen before. You almost freeze as he stares right back at you, big beautiful brown eyes gazing into yours as he gawks at you reverently. But his eyes don’t travel down your body like the other men’s do. His eyes stay fixed on your face alone, staring up into the pits of your soul as you suck in a breath and try to focus on the beat of the song.

His long tousled curls drape over his forehead, almost falling into his brown doe eyes that seem to suck you in. He’s tall, broad shouldered with thick biceps that cling to his rolled up button-up flannel. Spidery veins cascade down his arms and end in massive hands that stay clenched by his sides. His tanned skin seems to glow as he stares at you with brown eyes that melt into your own like a candle stick, wax flowing down slowly, sticky and new. It’s captivating. He is captivating.

It's like you’re stuck in a haze, thick clouds that cover you and wrap their fog around so you can’t see, can’t hear anything anymore. You try to focus on the men that praise your body, try to avert your eyes from the handsome stranger, but that organ in your chest you force yourself to ignore is almost screaming at you to run to him. Two souls colliding into each other that were destined to meet. Just like twin flames.

Soulmates.

You blink once, twice, peeling your gaze away from him, turning the other direction, forcing yourself to stay bright eyed, hoping your smile doesn’t lower. You come face to face with a gentleman with a large top hat that screams your name and reaches his arms out, desperate to get just a single touch from you that he hopes will become more.

You turn back around and find that heated gaze again with the dark brown eyes, your own eyes going wide as they draw you to him. He looks a lot like your saving grace. Someone that wants to come in and sweep you off your feet.

Again, he just watches you silently, eyes searching yours as he seems to clock into your mind, reading your thoughts like a book from front to back. He won’t find anything there except a longing for something more. An escape. Happiness. And maybe he could be that for you. Maybe, just maybe he was destined to find you. You can feel it in your chest, that ache and pull that draws you to him.

Your uncle won’t like this. Not one bit…

Joel watches your entire routine, never once letting his eyes drop from you. He watches as you disappear into the crowd of men, narrowing his eyes when he sees the way they grab at you and beg to have a dance with the Sparkling Diamond. It makes him want to strangle every single one of them slowly.

Please, just one dance?

Sparkling Diamond! Care to have a drink with me?

How about a little fun in the red room?

You politely decline each offer and just smile as you pass the men by, trying your best to not meet the stranger with the pretty brown eyes’ gaze. He’s so handsome, so very easy on the eyes. You try your best to look at the men with money, knowing this is what you’re here for, to give them a show so they’ll pay to come back. Try as you might, that thin string snapped the second you saw his brown flecked honey eyes. You don’t want to do this anymore.

You turn where you stand and look back towards the stage. You search as men cram around you and over the top of an older man’s shoulder you can see him, clear as day, still staring at you with a trance-like expression on his face. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, curling your lips into a shy smile and you swear you see his pretty caramel eyes light up like fireflies in the night.

Just when you’re about to walk over to him, you feel your uncle pull you away in the opposite direction. “Come on, little petal, got some nice men that’d like to meet you.”

You follow him helplessly past some drawn crimson curtains, already over the drunk men that will press their chapped lips to your face and place their grimy hands all over you. You’re finished though, over all the fake smiles and laughter you are forced to sell these men night after night. When you look back over your shoulder you can’t see him anymore. No more pretty brown eyes that make you feel somehow safe. You don’t know him, his backstory, his name, or even his age, but you’ll find out. You have to, you just have to.

After finishing fixing the two broken tables and putting them back into order, Joel gets another visit from Edward as he saunters over with a big smile and a glass of scotch in his hand.

“Everything going alright?” Edward asks as he pulls on his black tie and straightens out his long tailed coat.

“Yes, sir. Finished fixin’ those tables for you. They should be good to go now,” Joel answers as he stands up straight with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Excellent!” Edward goes over to the wooden tables and knocks on the top, inspecting Joel’s work as he looks them over carefully. Once he’s satisfied he gives Joel a strong pat on the back and nods. “Did good work, boy. Think we’ll keep you around.”

Joel smiles at the compliment, thanking him for the opportunity. “Oh, there’s actually something else that needs to be done. You remember that room we passed on the second floor? The very back room by the balcony? The one that says Sparkling Diamond?”

Joel’s eyes go wide as he recalls passing a big red door with the letters spelled out in fake diamonds. That has to be your room. He should’ve noticed it sooner, maybe asked about it. But he didn’t know that room would belong to the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He didn’t know it until now.

“Uh-yeah. What about it?” he asks cautiously, eyebrow slightly raised in anticipation of what Edward would say next.

“The sink in her kitchen is dripping and some of the lightbulbs are burnt out. There should be some in the supply closet. Think you can handle taking care of that now?”

He doesn’t hesitate a second. “Absolutely. I’ll get right on it,” Joel says urgently.

As he turns to leave, Edward calls his name. “Oh, Joel. Before you leave tonight, go ahead and have a beer. It’s on me.”

Joel doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been offered a free one before, always had to pay money that he didn’t have to get one. “Oh, thank you. I… I appreciate it.”

“You earned it, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Edward asks with his eyebrows knitted together and gaze heavy on Joel.

“I’ll be here,” he promises.

“Alright, take care now. I’ve got some business to attend to so see you tomorrow.” Edward turns and walks back into a sea of rich men.

Joel pushes his way past men in black suits and black ties, cigars hanging from their open mouths and drinks spilling over their glass cups as they talk about money, sex, stocks, and women. He tunes them out and keeps walking, ignoring the nasty stares he gets from not being in a suit himself.

As soon as he grabs the bag of lightbulbs and a few plumbing tools, he heads up the grand staircase with red carpet sprawled across each step. He makes his way up the stairs, down the narrow dark hallway and stops before he turns the corner. He stands just a few feet from the pleasure room. The red room as they call it here.

He can hear the moans and cries coming from the room, can smell the stench of sex that whisks through the air. He wonders if you go into that room night after night, letting the men with dirty claws sink their nails into you, feasting on you like blood sucking vampires.

His jaw clenches up as his nails sink into the meat of his palm, his face becoming hot with heat as he imagines you splayed out on an open bed while the men take and take from you until you have nothing left to give. Until you’re just a used up rag doll for them to toy with. He snarls and turns the corner sharply, putting those dark thoughts out of his mind. If he had his way he’d make damn sure you’d never set foot in that room again. He’d slaughter a whole fucking mass of men if he had to. No one should lay their filthy hands on you as far as he’s concerned.

He walks through the long corridor, passing door after door until he finally gets to yours. He takes a deep breath and turns the golden doorknob slowly entering the dimly lit room with pale pink wallpaper. He gently shuts the door and when he turns around he stops in his tracks, hand sliding off the doorknob as he sees you standing in the middle of the room. Naked.

Your skin is soft, probably as soft as the back of a rose petal. Your legs are long, smooth, and enticing. He wonders what it’d feel like to run his long fingers over your creamy thighs. You’re bent over, ass in the air, as you unbuckle the straps of the high heels you wore on stage. Your hips are curvy, shaping your round ass into mere perfection. Your full breasts peek out from the corner as your long waves spill over your shoulders. You’re absolutely perfect, stunning, a work of pure art.

Joel knows he’s fucked now. He knows. After seeing how beautiful you are, he can’t turn away. He shouldn’t be standing here gawking at you while you change, but he can’t move. He’s stuck like glue, an immovable object that can’t be pushed. He’s in trouble, so much trouble.

He loses his balance when you bend over again, exposing a different view of you that nearly takes him to his knees. The bag of bulbs falls to the ground with a large crash, and you turn with a quaint gasp as you take in the man that stands before you. It’s him, the man with the dark eyes.

Your eyes go wide, quickly reaching for a thin, sheer robe as you wrap it around you and cover the parts of you that are completely exposed. You breathe hard, your breath coming out rushed and fast. He does the same as he just stands there staring, no air left in his lungs as he stands in front of the beauty that takes his breath away. And then it’s silence, only rushed breaths and pining eyes.

The longer he stares into your captivating eyes, the more he knows he’s fucked. There was no way he was getting out of this now, no way to back down. He was going to make you his one way or another. You would be his. Period.

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