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dilf-docs · 29 days ago

Text

To The Devil I Know

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: your infamous girl's trip with your best friend sarah gets crashed by his overprotective dad.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, it's pussy spanking time again bc i do in fact like it a lot, praise/daddy kink sprinkled somewhere, reader calls him mr. miller A LOT, exhibition kink (v nasty), degradation kink (he calls her little slut), pantie sniffing, dirty talk (they have a sentence awaiting in horny jail), y/n grinds on joel's nose bc yeah i too want that, this is contradicting but lwk sub!joel bc that man's touch starved as HELL, may do a part two idk pls give it love, dad!bod joel bc i say so (yummy), no angst (wtf dilf-docs? the angst gods are so pissed off rn)

word count: 7,195 words

side note: this request got me HOOKED the moment i opened it and since i'm currently on a pedro hyperfixiation rn, we need to put the mental illness to good use. also, this is lwk based on the song by suki waterhouse devil i know! :) i'm seeing that i have two joel fics with devil in the title btw something something abt nickels and not being a lot but weird it happened twice also WE HIT 300 FOLLOWERS??? (and its 1am and i have to wake up at 4am is anyone surprised atp...)

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"Sarah!" you shout, "get your ass out here you looser!"

It's probably eight in the morning, and here you are, honking and shouting in the middle of the quiet calm suburbs.

When you spot her curly head running towards you in a rush, you know she's pissed.

"Stop screaming!" she shouts back, "my neighbours will hate me"

You've known Sarah since you were kids. When you first moved to Texas, she was the only one who spoke to you in school. You grew up with her among white picket fences and scrapped knees, mantaining the friendship even as you moved away, until your return for college.

"Why would I even care? I don't live here!" you joke from the driver's seat, hopping off and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry but I can't help it. I'm just so excited for this trip, we've been planning it for ages!"

You keep talking excitedly about your plans, not noticing how her face falls.

"Yeah, about that..."

"You girls ready?" a third voice enters the picture, definitely not belonging to a girl.

"Uh, Sarah" you breath in, "Why the fuck is your dad here?"

In all his glory: Joel Miller, a guy you haven't seen in forever, too busy living in the dorms, girl dates with Sarah often out of her house. You wanted to explore the world: you weren't ten anymore, and the suburbs lost all of it's appeal they had when you were the age of Barbies and drawing on chalk.

"Listen, y/n. I tried, I really tried. But as soon as I opened my mouth, he started to pack his bags"

"Isn't your dad always busy at work?" you inquire, another one of the reasons Joel's face isn't a fresh memory in your head.

"That's part of the problem. He took all of the pending vacations he had at once" she sighs, sounding as dissapointed as you are. "I understand if you don't want to go"

"Are you being serious right now?" you chuckle dryly. "No, absolutely not. I saved for this trip, packed my favorite outfits and aced all my classes so my parents would allow me. Nothing is going to ruin this for me: not you, not your dad. So we'll go and we'll have all the fun we planned, yeah?" you express firmly, holding her hands. "We will have our girl summer, no matter what. Even if we have to ignore the elephant in the room..."

"Did you just call me fat?"

You turn around, and there he is: the uninvited. Joel Miller's aged face stands before you, strong arms flexing under the pressure of a couple of suitcases.

"No" you reply back, "just a nuissance"

He chuckles at your response, amused. "If you thought I'd let my babygirl go alone with you to the beach and get shit-faced drunk, you're not as smart as I remember, y/n"

Your name would always be on his tongue to call you out. Y/n, don't do that. Y/n apologize to the neighbours. Y/n, slow down. Y/n, don't be so stubborn. You were always a troublemaker, and his lips would only know how to pronounce your name if to berate you. But now, as his mouth says your name with a newly learned tone, dripping with dare and amusement, you can't help but feel a fire ignite that burns your skin.

"Dad!" Sarah calls out, taking you out of your thoughts. She flushes in embarrasment, and you scoff at the idea of giving too much of your time to think about Mr. Miller of all people. "I'm not ten anymore, we'll be just fine"

"You're barely of legal age!" he counters back. "What if somethin' was to happen to you, huh? I'd never forgive myself"

You get annoyed at his over-the-top reactions. What did he think you were gonna do? The wildest thing you had in mind was getting drunk while sitting in the sand. Not even in the water! You may be a wild spirit, but stupid you're not.

"Look, Mr. Miller" he cocks his head to the side, daringly so, almost as if waiting for you to try. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't Driveway Dolls" he looks at you confused, so you try again, "Or Thelma and Louise, whatever suits your fucking old ass. Alright? This is a girls trip, heard that? Just two bestfriends enjoying their youth and summer without boys around to ruin it for them"

"Boys?" he laughs. "Too bad, then, 'cause sweetheart, I'm a man"

Your breath hitches, but you're not going to let him win; you always need to have the last word.

"Well, man up and let your daughter be free for once!"

Sarah covers her face with her palms, clearly knowing her dad more. This is a lost battle.

"Stop, y/n. Please. Dad's impossible to bend"

"He's ruining our trip!" you protest, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Take it or leave it" he leans against his truck, crossing his arms. Your eyes dart to the strained fabric of his sleeves, and when he chuckles, you don't know if he noticed or it's because of his imminent victory.

"Fine!" you throw your hands in the air, dramatically so. "Welcome on board, intruder"

Joel Miller smiles, and maybe it's the rare sight, not even common back in the day, that makes your heart skip a beat.

"And we're taking my truck"

"Are you being serious right now?!" Was this man going to take away all your freedom?

He laughs, mockingly. Rage bubbles in your chest, along something darker you aren't going to admit just yet.

"There is no way my daughter is going on a fucking hatchback to the beach"

You try to distract yourself talking to Sarah in the backseat, but her dad's prying glances time to time from the rear view mirror have you shifting uncomfortably on your seat.

He's persistent, always has been. Joel Miller, just as Sarah said, wasn't a man who could be bent. You'd remember thinking he was a sort of superhero: unbreakable. Whenever Sarah needed help, a pair of strong arms would be there, ready to take the weight off of her shoulders. He was now older, as you have noticed: grey and wrinkles sprayed all over his face. And now, the worst part of it all:

Age had made him infuriatingly attractive.

Unfair, you think, that a man so bitter that only seemed to worry and nag, was blessed with the rare quality of aging like wine. You can deny it anymore: whatever Joel Miller has now that he didn't before is working on you like a lovesick spell.

You look again to the front, just in time to catch one of his subtle (not really) stares. You keep the eye contact, only he tears away his gaze first, something akin to regret and fear circling on his warm brown orbs. The fire from before cracks inside of your belly, and the anticipation begins.

If he was going to ruin your trip, you might as well return the favor.

"M' gonna stop for gas" he says after some minutes of silence, deviating towards a gas station.

You take the opportunity to get out of the truck to strech your legs. Sarah does so too, but then whispers into your ear:

"Tell my dad I need to go to the bathroom. Don't want him worrying"

As if you'll talk to him. Despite that, you nod and she leaves you alone with her annoying dad.

"Reckless too, huh?" Joel appears by your side, almost making you drop your phone. "You know you're not s'pposed to use the damn phone on a gas station? Good thing I ain't let my daughter go alone with you"

You put your phone down. "Reckless? I know what I'm doing" but you sound nervous, for some reason.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Joel says, his voice surprisingly soft.

You heart gets stuck in your throat at the sudden shift, "I suppose not"

"I get that you hate me" he confesses, done filling the tank, "but I couldn't let the two of you go alone"

Your cheeks turn pink at the accusation, "I don't hate you"

He laughs, and the sound has something stirring in the lower of your belly. Why is Joel Miller of all people provoking feelings in you no other boy has ever provoked? You're used to playing with boys as you please, and you come to realize that's where the difference lies: you don't know how to handle a man.

A man so strong, your eyes don't leave him as his arms flex while pumping the gas, the delicious peek his simple white shirt gives you not going unnoticed; droplets of sweat on his temple, sliding down his jawline then getting lost down the crook of his neck. You lick your lips on instinct, horrified when you realize what you've just thought and done.

"Damn right you don't"

You could say you've reached some kind of truce, but then Sarah comes back, and when you look at Joel again, he's reverted to that annoying apathic state of his, but instead of bothering you, it only makes you want more.

"Hey" he says to Sarah, "where you went?"

"I had to pee, dad. Relax" she dismisses, shooting at you a can-you-believe-it look.

He walks away, ready to jump in the driver's seat again, when he turns around to whisper to Sarah:

"Don't ever leave me again" tone stern, "not with her"

But you hear.

You arrived late, the sun hiding behind the large body of water that seemed infinite.

"I can't believe we missed the first sunset!" you whine. "It was going to look so good on my Instagram stories..."

"This generation and their problems" Joel scoffs, taking the suitcases to the house you've rented for the next two days.

The answer is right at the tip of your tongue, but you decide to be the bigger person and remain quiet. If he wants to play, you better play smart.

"Dad, please" Sarah calls him out, and you have to hide a laugh. "Don't fight with y/n"

"I ain't doing shit" he sneers, crossing his bulking arms.

Sarah walks past him, muttering against his childishness. That angers Joel, who tries to remain cool.

"I know you hate me" you suddenly appear by his side. Your vainilla scent gets up on his nose, invading his body of you. "I just think you should try, for Sarah"

"I don't hate you" he answers, and now it's your turn to laugh.

"Yeah? Doesn't seem like it, Mr. Miller" it comes out before you can stop it, and there's something dark lurking behind his brown eyes piercing through you.

"I don't" sounding more sure this time. Serious too.

"You'll have to prove that"

You enjoy the surprise on his face and the light pink sprinkled across his cheeks.

"Prove that?"

You nod, finding all of this suddenly funny.

"Hmh, you heard me. Prove it, Mr. Miller. That you don't hate me"

But before he can respond, your bestfriend is back.

"Y/n, come on! You need to check the house. It has a shared balcony!" Sarah beams giddy.

You let her excitement infect you, taking her hand as you go inside the house. Joel stays back, your words ringing on his ears.

On the other hand, Sarah and you check the room together.

"Look this" she points at one of the mirrors in the room: it has details that remind you of the sea. "Isn't it cute?"

"It is" you agree, "we should take a picture"

"Okay. But use your phone" she says, "mine died on the road"

You're about to pull it out when you feel your pockets empty.

"It's... not here"

"You might have left it in the car" she tries to help.

"Yeah" you try to remain level-headed, "I'll go search for it"

You return to the truck, pressing your head against the window. Just like your friend guessed, it's there, abandoned on the seat.

"Lost somethin'?"

You gasp, turning around. Joel Miller's face is centimeters away from yours, breathing heavily as his body cages your smaller frame against the truck's doors.

"My phone" you find your voice after what feels like eternity, "it's inside the car"

"Need help with that?" his voice sounds low, whisper easily to be confused with a growl.

You don't know how to answer, scared for the first time of where your mouth could take you. So your solution is to nod, and step aside for him to open the car.

"There you go" he's dropping it in your hands, fingers lightly brushing yours. There's a shiver down your spine despite the cool weather, and you know damn well it's all his fault. He may feel it too, by the way he takes a step back, putting some distance.

"Need anything else?" but it feels like a slap to the face, as if he's challenging you to speak what you've been thinking but are too coward to do when he stands before you.

"No" you mentally slap yourself for how pathetic you sound, "this is all I needed, Mr. Miller. Thanks"

You look back one last time, despite it all. And there it is: that same look he gave you in the car.

"Anytime" but it falls deaf to your ears, as you basically ran away from him.

Him and his imposing presence, enough to make your legs tremble and your mind to stop working. Him and his smell, that brings you back to simpler times and reminds you of a a secret place in the woods, musk getting under your skin. Him and his breath, hitching when you touch hands. Him and his beating heart, just as loud as yours.

"Took you long" Sarah comments when you return, "I was already falling asleep"

She doesn't know or suspect, you tell yourself, but that doesn't stop you from feeling sick.

That night, as Sarah lays by your side and you try to sleep, all you can think about is his big hands, the lingering feeling of a warm touch. And then Joel, stepping back―coming to his senses, as if something is holding him back.

Anytime.

You can't help but wonder what stopped him.

Days have blurred between drinks by the poolside, waves crashing, wet sand in your fingers and sun carressing skin.

Despite what happened, Joel remains in the shadows, letting you and Sarah enjoy your trip in peace. You may be spending time with your bestfriend, but his presence hangs in the air, impregnated with his strong pine and whisky smell, looming over you like a shadow; suffocating, like his scent is all you can breath. You hate how your mind keeps going back to him, because despite your inicial claims to ruin him, that wasn't the purpose of this vacation, yet Joel seems to have infected you with a need that corners your mind to think of him and him only. The greed you feel is unnatural, like a spell has been cast upon you. He may be far, just as you wanted, and you should enjoy that, but it's that very same distance that is driving you insane.

Today, you and Sarah decided to go diving and then play volleyball.

The day ends, the sun sets, and so does the tiredness. But as Sarah's snores fill your ears, you toss around the bed, trying to conceal sleep to no avail.

Staring at the ceiling, you kept drifting back to Joel, mind wondering and heart racing at thoughts of strong arms caging you, warmth in your body that the breeze creeping through flowing curtains fails to provide.

The sound of wood creaking jolts you awake. His silhoutte is hard to miss, and your eyes follow it cross your bedroom. You pretend to be asleep, his scent up your nose as he walks in careful measured steps, trying not to wake you up. He looks back at Sarah, and the moonlight betrays him when it shines over his eyes, revealing an adoration that gnaws your chest.

He keeps walking, until he reaches the shared balcony. It's then that you make a choice, heart pounding in your chest as you race yourself from bed, going his way.

You go outside, finding him resting his arms on the balcony, facing the beach in silence. Soft waves crash against the wet sand, but not even that can overpower the sound of your beating heart.

"What're you doin' here?" he's asking, even if you haven't moved from your spot. Seems like your friend wasn't joking about his heightened senses, despite his old age. "Thought y'were 'sleep"

"Well, Sarah is a fast sleeper" you answer, walking to his side.

"She sure is" and the faintest of a smile appears on his face.

Joel Miller is a mystery to you: the most closed off man you've ever met, hiding behind his apparent apathy that only seems to be gone whenever Sarah is around. She's the apple of his eye, and those soft traces of a more tamed character that come to light have truly picked your interest, begging for more crumbs that will help you puzzle who he really is: he, that is as handsome as a mystery. The worst is, you don't know what attracts you more.

But you won't let him win.

"Mr. Miller?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you married?"

He looks at you, dark eyes partly iluminated by the moonlight.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be bold?"

"And aren't you too hot to be all alone?" you reply in an instant, rendering him speechless.

He chuckles, but it sounds defeated rather than amused.

"Trust me, kid" he's back at facing the ocean. Goddamn coward. "This isn't what you want"

"Don't call me kid" you berate, almost repulsed at it. "I'm twenty one"

He scoffs. "Still hella young"

"But I know what I want" a wavering hand ready to trace over his pecs, but he's stopped you before it descends. Before it's too late.

"You don't" he assures, grip on your hand stronger, without knowing how much you're enjoying this. Or maybe he does. "See? That's the problem with you kids: you think you do, but you don't"

You loose your patience.

"Tell me then, Mr. Miller. Would a kid do this?"

Taking the distraction, the same hand flies now to grop his dick, and to your surprise, it's already hard.

"Seems I'm not the only one who doesn't know what they want"

"Stop" he warns, hissing when your eager fingers unbuckle his belt. It's huge, for some reason, and you can't help but feel an ardent throb at the thought of grinding on it.

When your eyes look at Joel, he swears he sees you devilishly smirk, almost as if you were mocking him.

"Stop?" you bite your lip, feigning innocence as doe eyes look where dark ones had done before. "If that's what you want, you aren't even trying"

You kneel down, and the position gives you the perfect side of his adam's apple bobbing in a nervous gulp. He grows insecure under your intense stare, breath hitching when the wind hits his now free member as you pull down his underwear, revealing it hard and leaking with precum. You laugh delighted, with victory, and he finds himself trapped between the moon and your games, drowning on a sea feet away.

"I think I know what you want"

"How? You don't even know what you want" barely fighting it.

Your fingers grace over his soft abdomen, tracing down his belly and happy trail. Your teeth nip at the skin scattered with soft rosy lines, peppering the skin with fluttering kisses to entertain your mouth until your digits touch his hard cock. Joel whines, squirming, and you're delighted with the receptiveness, needy sounds escaping his lips.

You haven't even started yet.

"You're right, I don't" you agree. "All I know is you piss me off and that you ruined our trip, so I'm gonna take my anger out on you one way... or another"

You take your first lick, savouring the dark red head. His hips buck, a shaky gasp robbed from his chapped lips.

"Fuck" he exhales weakly, lost against the sound of water.

"Don't worry, Mr. Miller. I'll take good care of you" admiring his girth. He looks down on you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Joel can't lie and say he isn't fascinated with the way you look at him, not believing so much appetite can fit in such a small young body. Not even his partners before you, had looked at him like he was the best thing in the world, and now here you were: the loud-mouthed brat best friend of his daughter, sucking his cock while Sarah slept just a few meters away. Just yersteday he was bickering with you, not standing your spoiled attituted and juvenile spirit that can't be tamed and won't shut up. Hell, you had even disrespected him. But here he is, not being able to find the words or actions to stop you: because he doesn't want to.

It was all so fucked up.

But then you're closing your lips around his swollen head, and he knows there's no point in fighting it anymore, his whole body urging him to give in.

"Oh, fuck" he pants, getting all worked up as you take him deeper. "Keep goin'. You're doin' a great job, sweetheart"

The praise gets to you, even if not needed.

Your tongue swirls, running the muscle with wet slides, up and down, tip to base, some pressure applied. You proceed to take in his balls, feeling him tense up. You wanted to mock him badly, but your mouth was full of his dick, so that wasn’t happening.

"D-don't stop" he pleads, sounding more like a whine.

He's deep enough that it hits your throat. You've never been this greedy, but also, have never tried with a dick so big. You feel him in the roof of your mouth, your lips at the base of the tip, brushing against skin. Joel can't keep up: breath hitching, moans ragged and consumed, barely standing if it wasn't for your hands digging in his thighs for support.

You keep building pace, seeing Joel's face scrunch up.

"M' close" his voice comes out strained, his head tilting back, wild soft locks from before now plastered against his forehead, dripping with sweat. His muscles tense, you can feel it, and it's just about time before he's coming inside your mouth.

You want it. To taste more of him, who you claim to hate but feels oh so good. Strong, just as his presence.

"So good, fuck, you're so good" in a tone so needy and desperate. It falls out of his lips, followed by more unintelligible praises dripping from his tongue.

And then, in a shaky breath, lost to the wind:

"Y/n"

You gasp, and he feels it, the air ticklish on his sensitive skin.

Joel said your name.

Your name, in a way it had never been said before. Uttered like a prayer, submerged in devotion. Your name, melting into his moans, deep within him, the calling full of a primal desire. The experience is intoxicating, making you crave more.

Joel comes with a groan, head falling back. Your name dies on his lips as his hips thrust up with your lips closing in. Thick spurts of cum mix with saliva in the back of your throat. You pull out, a string of saliva still connecting you to his dick. He looks down on you, body shaking as much as yours. Without breaking eye contact, he wipes some of the mess drooling from your lips, his calloused thumbs carresing you with a softness you didn't think was possible. The contrast makes you falter a bit, and you know Joel notices.

"There you go" your voice comes out hoarse, avoiding his eyes, "now you know what you want"

He chuckles, giving you a hand to stand up. As you raise to your feet, his face is barely inches away from yours. You can see the lines time has marked across his face, the grays coloring hair you remember to be brown, and those eyes―piercing through you like they know you better than you know yourself.

"But do you?"

Joel Miller doesn't know what is regret.

He didn't feel it when Sarah arrived unexpectedly at the ripe age of twenty, forcing him out of college. He didn't feel it when Sarah's mother left him alone to raise his daughter all by himself, aware he had tried it all to make it work. He surely didn't feel it when you came back after leaving Texas, long gone the childlike wonder and features that made him see you as an extension of his daughter, his gaze lingering a bit too long on this familiar face in a beautiful blooming new body.

But this is different, and he isn't sure if, for the first time, he's finally known what is regret.

Joel Miller also doesn't know when to back out of a fight.

He remember his brother Tommy, practically begging to let go of some asshole that dared to pick up on him, knuckles bloody no matter if he was young then and old as stubborn now, the same red painted across his willfull hands.

But now those hands prickle and sweat, no matter how much he runs them over the fabric of his jeans. And now, as your dangerous stare pierces through him across the small table, Sarah oblivious to the game as she quietly munchs her cereal, Joel Miller backs down, his gaze the first to look away.

He realizes just now why he was so afraid to look up to the sky after you left. The same stars that stared back from the high of the dark night are akin to the ones dancing in your eyes.

"Mr. Miller" your voice breaks his train of thoughts.

"Where's Sarah?" he asks in a panicked voice, realizing you've been left alone.

"Brushing her teeth" you answer, slightly taken back by his tone. "We were going out today, remember?"

Ah, yes. A little tour to an island not to far away from there.

"M' not goin'. Sorry, kid" he's decided. Before you can speak, Sarah returns and asks the question herself.

"M' tired. That's all" but it sounds rather an excuse.

"Are you sure, dad?" Sarah presses, not sure why he had changed his mind at the last minute.

"Yeah" he insists, all while avoiding those eyes of yours, unsatisfied and searching for answers of questions qithout a voice. "You girls go and have fun"

So you do.

You go and feel like you're inside of Mamma Mia (your favorite movie; both of you learned ABBA's discography thanks to it, something that offended your parents), the sun reflecting in the water, the little island with its green and sun, and the flowers that dust their petals into the shore where your boat arrives.

But when the trip is over and soft waves rock your return, you think of Joel.

You think you should feel at least a little ashamed of becoming so obssesed with a man in barely two days, who, on top of it all, is your bestfriend's dad. But then you remember the taste of him inside your mouth, how his dick had rasped against your throat, his seed warm in the tip of your tongue. And then his eyes, promises meant to be broken locked away behind tides of fear, that do an excellent job of reminding you how easy is to drown; to fall for how in hazel flickers, Joel seems he'd give you the world.

"Let's get drunk" you deadpan once you're back at the shore.

Sarah laughs at your determination, then realizes you're serious.

"What?"

"Yeah, it's our last day here" you reason. "Besides, your dad isn't here. What's he going to say?"

If you sound between angry and dissapointed at his absence, Sarah remains quiet.

"We're running away" she tries one last time, but by the look in your eyes, you've made your choice.

"Are we? We're twenty-one, Sarah. We can do whatever the fuck we want" you feel rebellious all of a sudden, "what? Don't you wanna give this trip a grand finale?"

So you crash into the nearest bar and waste the night away, drinking and dancing. But you're ordering a drink you don't like, and in every glass of whiskey down your throat, his name hangs in the air like the memory of his smell, locked behind a vault as if it's too sacred to say. But when Sarah gets a boy to dance and lends his friend to you, you wish there was rough where soft meets your skin, and chapped when you kiss his lips. Your body burns ablaze with sweat, alcohol and regret, a dangerous combination that makes you pull Sarah out of the bar when you feel you're about to black out. She complains, but you're set on making it to the bed before your eyelids shut.

Maybe it's because you always had what you wanted, or maybe it was the forbidden, but whatever reason had pushed you in Joel's orbit, refused to let you go.

And maybe you're imagining his voice, scolding you like a kid. Maybe you're seven again, and in the shadows of the bed, you've gone back to your childhood days. Y/n, y/n, y/n. That sick berating tone of his, acting like you're stupid and small.

"Fucking brat" he spats, drops of his angry scowl landing on your cheek. You then realize he's hovering over you, and it's real, not a product of your foggy mind. So you stand up, sobering up a bit, when he charges back again. "Makin' my daughter pass out? What the fuck were you thinkin'? Could've ended in the middle of the street. You're s'pposed to go to the damn island and then come back!"

Your mouth tastes like sand, but even if you've passed out a couple hours ago, the fire doesn't die. So your tongue is back, finding it's voice to say:

"Well, if you hadn't left us alone, this wouldn't have happened"

He chuckles, darkly. Humorless. "I see"

"What?" you challenge, a shiver down your spine that looses itself somewhere else.

"You got my daughter drunk as revenge"

You're mortified at the accusation, the remnants of alcohol now long gone of your system.

"Do you think I'd risk me and my friends' safety for you? Out of all people, you?" not caring if you sound bitter.

The truth sticks to your skin as uncomfortably as the sweat.

"I dunno, sweetheart. That's why I'm asking you" the pet name rolls effortlessly, in a rough voice that creates a wet spot in your panties. He gets closer, and you can see the tremble of his lips as he lets out a shaky breath. "Be a good girl and answer"

"I won't tell you shit" you spit.

"You little minx, thinkin' you can run your tongue like it ain't been 'round my cock before" you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Joel's enjoying this more than he should. "That's right, what'd Sarah think knowing her friend's a little slut for'er daddy's cock?"

The electric current that crosses your body sparks the fire of the woods hiding behind his auburn storms.

Now you're feeling high on a forest fire. You want the flames to engulf you, even if ashes is all there'll be left.

"Tell me you want this" his forehead clashes against yours, and the whole world falls silent, except for your ringing ears.

"I want this" and he's just as surprised as you are by the unwavering conviction. "I need you, Mr. Miller"

You try to get up, but he pushes you with full force back into your bed. Then, the base creaks, and he's on top of you, his weight pressing you against the mattress.

"What are you-"

"You think I'd let you get away easily? Have things your way? Naive lil' girl" he tuts, "I'll punish you for that"

As on cue, drowned out snores are heard from your side.

"But, Sarah-" you try to protest, his body caging you under his mercy.

"That'll mean you're behavin', right?" he runs his thumb across your lips, gently pulling them down, as if the chase was thrilling as eating the prey. "I know you don't want to wake her up and see her slut of a friend bangin' her daddy"

You tense, remaining silent at the threat, even if your body reacts other ways.

"Good girl"

He’s quick to get rid you of your shorts.

"Fuckin' hell" he murmurs against your neck, the clothing discarded somewhere in the room. "Wearin' this little shitty bottoms to rail me up, knowin' damn well when to bent and get me hard. Been thinkin' of takin' them off ever since you wore 'em first"

The confession makes you whine, and Joel's delighted by the sound, and just how putty you are under his big rough hands.

"Let's see what we got here" his large hands caress your thighs as he settles between your legs. "Black lace, baby? Such a fuckin' tease. Wore 'em for me?"

You shake your head, but his calloused digits dig on the plush skin of your thighs, making you wince at the pain.

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart. You'd said you'll be a good girl, yeah?" you nod, soaking wet, painfully so.

"Yes, I'll be"

"Show me your manners, then" he presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, close to where you need his graying beard to tickle, "and I'll show you mine"

"Just eat me, Joel" you demand breathlessly. "Fuck. Need you, Mr. Miller, so bad"

"And why should I reward you, impatient little slut? Eager to get daddy's filthy mouth between that pretty pussy" Joel bites the inside of your thigh, and it takes all of your strength to avoid becoming a moaning mess. "You've been bad, sweetheart. A brat"

You deny it, but his head dissappears between your legs, licking the wet spot on your panties. You squirm under the teasing of his tongue, legs shutting close on instinct. You drown a whimper in your palm as he yanks your panties away.

"Don't do anything I ain't tell you to" demanding, and if you weren't this horny and out of your mind, you'd probably be scared. "There'll be consequences"

You try to obey. But then his nose, that big nose you want covered in your slick as you grind off of it between your legs, sniffs your panties. He gives it one big sniff, and then two, fingers going white as he holds the piece of fabric with too much force, shoving it on his face.

"Ye'r too fuckin' sweet, I'll give you that" he mumbles in a drunken haze. "Need to taste that drippin' cunt of yours 'night"

The bed creaks again, or maybe it's the sound of his bones starting to give in to old age, but Joel is sucking your clit, tongue pushed inside of your puffy folds. You hide a moan against his lips, hands traveling to grip his hair.

"Joel" you breathe out.

He parts your folds easily, and before you know it, a rugged finger circles your entrance. Your back arches, and then he leaves place for his mouth again, flicking your sensitive core with his tongue. A moan a little too loud escapes your lips, making his eyes darken when the bed next to you shifts, Sarah tossing in her sleep.

"You dumb fuckin' brat. What'd I say?" his hand slams against your pussy, a sting you've never felt before, both showered in pain and pleasure, spreading across your cunt. "Don't disobey me. Apologize, now"

He stops his minstrations, and you're so achingly close to your orgasm, that the answer falls easy and rushed from your lips.

"Sorry, Mr. Miller"

"Good girl" Joel praises as he pushes his finger in, next to his tongue on your clit.

But the orgasm is so deliciously close, and you can't wait for more. So now you're grinding in his face by reflex, rubbing against his big nose just like you'd imagined. You whine at the sensation, and Joel rests his tongue flat on your clit with surprise.

"Who gave you permission to do that?" but his voice sounds more amused than nagging. "That imagination of yours is somethin' else. Have you been thinkin' bout it all this time, hmh, greedy dirty slut?"

The orgasm looms closer, hitting when Joel pushes a second rough finger in, walls clenching against his digits. He pulls away, licking his fingers with his tongue.

"Such a perfect pussy you got there, sweetheart. As sweet as you when you ain't bein' a pain in the ass"

You laugh breathless, trying to recover.

"Wanna taste?"

So now he's kissing you for the first time, his lips rough against plush skin, nibbling with your lower lips between his teeth, his tongue still tasting like you roaming free inside your mouth, like he wants to mark every corner; imprint himself in you. You've never wanted anything, hell, anyone more. The kiss leaves you hanging, heart racing at the closeness of his face and the warmhearted feeling of his lips on yours, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together.

"There you go" he chuckles, enamoured at the sight of your puffy lips. "Now it's my turn"

He's quick to get rid of the jeans and belt (oh well, it'll be another day) until he's over you, just wearing his boxers.

You'd never seen Joel naked before, why would you? But there's a vague memory of hot summer days, trying to survive the heat in the town's pool, just as the rest. He was there, eye candy for the mothers and horny teens. You hadn't understand back then, when he was all muscle, but you do know, where the mighty strenght is still hidden there, somewhere between his sturdy arms and chest as soft as his belly, round as it pushes above the only piece of cloth that forbids you to see his dick. His chest is full of hair, and God, you feel so dirty wanting to bury your face in the sweat drenched patch.

"Stop lookin' at me like that" he teases, but there is a small voice of insecurity hiding its undertones beneath his smirk under your stare.

"You're so fucking hot, Joel" comes out before you can stop it, now mouth acting up on its own.

Fuck, he thinks, he's too far gone. There's no point of return.

Your eager fingers pull down the underwear, fingers grazing the softness of his length. You slowly grabs his dick as he comes closer, never seeing anything as big and provoking as it. That makes you tighten your grip on his dick, which stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin.

He positions himself between your legs again.

"Let's put this big bad boy to use, huh?"

He grunts at your words, large hands finding your thighs for support, as he caresses up and down the skin littered with marks and kisses.

Joel pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck.

"Tell me if it hurts" all softness on his eyes, his forehead falling against yours, as if he hadn't been punishing you just minutes ago. Your heart races at the gesture, tender meeting the rough of his edges.

The real question isn't asked, but you're on the pill and you trust him. You just want to fill him inside of you, all of him.

"I will, Mr. Miller"

He slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, quickly muffled by his palm as he stays buried deep inside of you, givimg you time to adjust to his size. It burns, but you enjoy the way the pain feels. He slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your slick folds take him, and he grunts, supporting his aching body by the forehead against yours one more time.

"So tight, sweetheart. Ain't nobody ruinin' this pussy but me" his growl comes out possesive as Joel establishes a steady rhythm. You softly moan as he keeps moving, pounding into you, hitting a spot no one had before, making you see stars. It gets harder to stay quiet, but Joel caputres every little sound that comes out of you in a kiss, as if that way he could preserve them better and forever.

You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close as your walls clench around him, his thrusts harder yet slower as he keeps going, ramming into you.

"Look at you, coatin' my dick like a fuckin' meltin' ice cream" he gently pushes it again between your folds, rubbing his dick on your clit. "So fuckin' wet, for me"

His lips are slightly parted and his eyes looked all fogged up, lost in the fire, thrusts becoming sloppier as he too feels it coming.

"So fuckin' pretty" drips from his mouth, and there's the stars in your eyes and the light you insist he's always had, even if he'd prefere the darkness. "The prettiest girl in the world with the sweetest pussy, givin' it all to this ol' perverted fuck"

The words and his big dick inside of you makes your eyes flutter shut on instinct.

"Don't sleep on me, baby" he coos, a hand brushing damp hair from your face. You recognize the look: the same in the car, on the balcony and on the poarch of his house, after letting the years go by. Back then, you thought you had dreamed it, but now that the secret saccharine sweetness reveals herself as he slams into you, you know it was real.

This is real.

You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he pounds you so gently yet so rough, trying to show him without words that whatever this wrong and sick feeling was, you felt the same.

"Such'a good girl, takin' me so well" Joel grunts, slamming to the hilt. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna-"

His dick twitches inside of you, walls spasming around his cock as your pussy takes it all, milking him dry.

"Take it all, like the good girl you are"

Both of you pant, and it takes him a while to realize the sun is raising again until its rays hurt his eyesight.

He's about to tell you how this shouldn't be, how he, at such an old age shouldn't be pinning for his daughter's friend: so young, sweet and loud-mouthed. No matter if you felt the same, or if your body was marked in and out by him, No, because wanting isn't enough, and no tide could wash away his sins from the shore.

"Listen, y/n-" your name like he has never said it before: no scold, no malice nor lust. Just a softness he hadn't felt in years, asleep under thick layers of cold.

But your soft snores fill the silence between the beats of his heart.

tags: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrosgrogu thank you sm for reading! hope u enjoy it :)

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #bfd!joel miller #bfd!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction #to the devil i know series

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littlcdarlin · 1 month ago

Text

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Reader goes on a beach vacation with Joel after her father breaks his leg. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: The devil works fast but I work faster. New multi chapter smut fic inspired by those damn new Pedro pics in the works…enjoy part 1! I haven't planned all of the smut scenes, so if you have any requests for specific kinks/scenes, do let me know!

He’s dead fucking wrong. You love your father, enough to not immediately say no, but he’s wrong. It’s true you could use a girls’ trip, perhaps even a couple of days out of town with your Dad, and he’s not entirely off about university being the death of you, kiddo – you’ve spent one too many nights inhaling coffee and cramming for your finals. The idea of an all-inclusive trip is tempting, given the fact that all you manage to eat these days is pasta and store-bought pesto, if that.

Nevertheless, you need to keep studying, there’s less than two weeks left until your exams, and although the trip is only a couple of days, you don’t know Joel.

Sure, you’ve been to his barbecues, and he let you use his bike one year when yours was stolen and your Dad refused to buy you a new one, because you should have locked it up in the first place. You know how he patched up your Dad after the divorce – you never worried about your mother, who was heartbroken, but able to talk about it to her family and friends. Your Dad was the one you spent sleepless nights over. The way the beer bottles accumulated in his garage, how distant he seemed on the phone. You know it was Joel who looked after him, made sure he left the house and had anything edible inside it. You’re grateful for it, you are, but you don’t really know him. For most of your life, he has been a friendly smile and wave over a fence, and you’re shy around people you know much better than the occasional hey kid, you back for the summer? or if you see your Dad, tell him I borrowed his screwdriver, I’ll put it back tomorrow.

You do feel slightly guilty your Dad can’t go on his trip. He broke his leg, and although it’s not entirely your fault he slipped, you had been the one to mop the stairs right before the accident. As much as your Dad was looking forward to his vacation, after a week he had to admit a beach holiday would be little fun with a whole leg in plaster.

You sigh, staring at your phone screen, tapping on it every once in a while to keep it from turning black. He’s expecting an answer soon, you know he is. Who the hell books non-refundable trips anyway? When you get the time, you’ll need to tell him about a lovely invention that is insurance.

You glance over at the stack of unfinished coursework on your desk, your laptop taunting you with its quiet – no responses to the millions of job applications you have sent out have come through. At this rate, you’ll be jobless in a couple of months, when you finish your degree. You’ll have to live with either of your parents forever, no money for any sort of vacation whatsoever.

"Oh, screw it,“ you mutter, unlocking your phone, and typing quickly.

I’ll do it. Only because my A+ cleaning is the reason you can’t go. Tell Joel to bring something to read, I need to study.

***

"It’d be a shame if it went to waste, kiddo, I’m glad you’re doing this.“

"Yeah,“ you answer, thinking of the endless powerpoint slides you haven’t even looked at yet. "Maybe studying at the beach works wonders.“

There’s a knock on the door, and you move to open it, your Dad chained to his chair by his broken leg. You’re not particularly excited about the smalltalk you’ll have to make with your Dad’s friend, but if you remember correctly, Joel is as much the quiet type as you are, and might actually appreciate your studying. Great, you think, at least one of us will enjoy it, then.

When you open the door, the first thing that strikes you is how hard you find it to envision Joel at the beach – he’s all mountains and trees to you, with his lumberjack boots and flannel shirt. His smile is friendly, and only gains warmth when he notices the critical look you give his outfit.

"I know,“ he says, voice deep and quiet, "I’m king of dressing for the occasion.“

You grin, and open the door wider.

"Come on in. Dad’s in the living room. What’s with the…uh…“

Your voice trails off, as you gesture towards his distinctly un-vacationy clothes.

"Thought you might bail,“ Joel answers easily, stepping into the house. "Can’t imagine you’re overly thrilled about this.“

You think about denying it, but this is your chance to come clean about how you would much prefer keeping to yourself and preparing for your finals, so you sigh.

"Well, it’s kinda my fault Dad was, like, almost paralyzed from the neck down, so I figured the least I could do was not let his trip go to waste. I’ve got finals in two weeks, so the timing is…suboptimal.“

"Yeah, your Dad said. I brought reading material, so I won’t bother you too much.“

He’s easy, you realize. Easy to talk to, and easy to accept your reluctance to bond with an almost-stranger, quick to make you feel comfortable by hinting at that boundary. You smile back, and are struck by how he holds your eye contact until you break it yourself, nodding towards your suitcase.

"Think this will fit inside the car?“

"Sure,“ he answers, "I’ve got a Bronco.“

You have no idea what that means, but you assume it’s a good thing, so you smile vaguely.

"It’s an SUV,“ Joel explains with a hint of good-natured amusement in his voice.

"Right,“ you say, attempting to overplay your obvious lack in car-knowledge, "SUV. One of the big ones.“

It makes Joel smile again, and you notice the wrinkles around his eyes that make his face look all sunny.

"Yeah,“ he says. "One of the big ones.“

You lead him into the living room to say good-bye to your Dad, who’s expression is a weird mixture of sombre and excited at the sight of his daughter and best friend getting ready to drive to the airport.

"Take care of her, Joel,“ he says, when you’re getting ready to leave.

"Don’t worry,“ Joel answers with a pat to your father’s arm. "I’ve got her.“

"I’m twenty-three,“ you remind your father, "I’ve done more dangerous things than a trip to the beach.“

"Yeah, but you’re still my little girl,“ he answers with a smile, squeezing your hand. You squeeze back, though his comment irritates you.

"See ya, Dad. Call me if something’s wrong with your leg, alright?“

"Sure, kiddo. Have fun, you two, and bring me a seashell.“

Joel grins at the open envy on your Dad’s face.

"We’ll go on another trip next year,“ he says in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Yeah, yeah,“ your Dad answers, glancing at his watch. "Better get going, or you’ll miss the flight.“

"We’ll be fine, Joel’s got a fast car,“ you argue, "A Bronco. That’s an SUV.“

Joel snorts.

***

Joel lets you take the window seat and plops down next to you, legs slightly spread so as to fit into the little space the two of you have. His leg nudges yours, and he pulls it back immediately, though you can see how uncomfortable it must be with his knees pressing into the seat in front of him. You move your legs towards the window with a glance at Joel, who looks grateful and is able to relax his muscles into a more comfortable position without invading your space.

"Thanks,“ he mutters, "Fucking hate flying.“

So do you, though not because you’re too big to fit into the space, and not because you’re afraid – mostly because it’s boring. Sure, takeoff is exciting, but you get nauseous from watching movies and the plane is much too loud to really enjoy your music the way you would lying on your bed at home. You could study, you suppose, but you tell yourself you wouldn’t be able to concentrate and kick your backpack further under your seat. Joel notices and chuckles.

"Finals, huh? You almost done with your degree?“

You can’t imagine him finding your boring university struggles interesting, but you’re not exactly fantastic at smalltalk, so you take the conversation he’s offering you.

"I’ve got one more year, but I’ve got to do a six month internship, and write my thesis, so yeah, this is, like, the last of my regular classes and exams.“

"You enjoy it?“

The question is strikingly honest, like he really wants to know, like it’s fine if you don’t. You look at him, his eyes already on your face, and for a second you think how handsome he is. You didn’t notice before, when he was just the owner of a bike you could conveniently borrow, when life was all skinned knees and staying up till sun-down. Now, he looks like an equal, like someone who wants to know about your life, someone you want to know about yourself. The change is a little unsettling, but thrilling. You realize you haven’t answered him, so you clear your throat.

"Sure, it’s alright. Not what I would have done if money didn’t matter, but it does, so…I can be content with it.“

Joel considers this, eyes still lingering on your face, as the plane starts speeding up for takeoff.

"What would you do if money didn’t matter?“

You shrug, and smile to yourself.

"Creative writing, maybe. Or English lit.“

"You always were the smart one in your family,“ Joel answers with a chuckle.

You glance at him, and feel a pang of something warm in your stomach as he compliments you. When the plane takes off, you look out of the window, but get the feeling Joel’s eyes keep looking at you. It makes your skin prickle, though not at all unpleasantly.

***

You get to the hotel when the sun is high in the sky, burning the top of your head and making you long for a shower and an ice-cold coke. Joel courteously carries your suitcase and although you don’t want to inconvenience him, you don’t mind the way his muscles bulge under the weight, arms straining against the navy shirt he had underneath his flannel. You wonder how he’s not suffocating in the heat, wearing his thick jeans and boots.

When you get to the front desk, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, searching for his reservation details with furrowed brows. You smile when you notice he uses two hands to scroll. It takes him a couple of minutes, cursing under his breath, and you smile at the lady, who smiles back, patiently waiting for Joel to find the right email.

"Sorry,“ you say to her, and try to catch a glimpse at Joel’s phone, so as to figure out what’s taking him so long. "Need some help?“

He throws you an offended look that makes you grin, and finally shows the lady his phone. She smiles, types something into her computer and gets out two room keys.

"Go easy on your Daddy, it’s easier when you grew up with the internet,“ she says, handing you each a keycard. You feel Joel stiffen beside you, and your stomach flutters.

"Here’s your keycards, you’re on the third floor. Enjoy your stay!“

"Thanks,“ Joel mumbles, taking the cards and handing them to you, before grabbing the two suitcases. He huffs, when you walk around a corner and towards the elevators.

"She was makin’ fun of me,“ he says accusingly when the lady is out of earshot, as if that would be your fault. You snort, all of a sudden feeling giddy at the prospect of being at the beach soon, your holiday only a couple of minutes away.

"I don’t think so, she was trying to help you by blaming your incompetence on your age,“ you say, Joel looking at you like he can’t believe what you said.

"Sorry.“ Your voice is quivering with amusement at how offended he is. "Daddy.“

That makes him clear his throat, and if your eyes aren’t playing a trick on you, his cheeks turn a shade darker. Bingo.

"Don’t say shit like that,“ Joel grumbles, "’M not that old.“

"How old are you, then?“

"Why?“, he asks, eyes meeting yours, and suddenly you’re the one blushing, your stomach swirling with something you definitely should not be feeling for your Dad’s best friend. Joel shakes his head. "Don’t start something neither of us can finish, kid.“

It’s just an offhand-comment about the way you jokingly flirted, but you feel all bashful all of a sudden. His mention of there being something to potentially start, the fact that the possibility even crossed his mind…when you look up at him again and watch him press a button on the elevator, you study the grey patches in his beard, the way his jaw clenches and unclenches as you’re waiting, his thick fingers drumming against the handle of his suitcase. It’s not what you expected to happen, but Joel’s got you intrigued.

***

You both agree to take a shower, get settled in and meet outside the rooms in half an hour – they’re neighboring, so it’s not far. You’re too lazy to properly unpack, so you just grab a bikini and a comfortable white sundress to change into after your shower. The water is welcome on your skin, washing away the grit and sweat of the hours spent on the plane, and you feel like a new person when you step out of the bathroom. You put on sandals and a pair of sunglasses, grab sunscreen, your books and notes for class, and a bottle of water, and throw it all into your beach bag, then head for the door. Joel is already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite your door wearing a different shirt, red swimming trunks and dark sunglasses. He’s got a towel thrown over his shoulder and you grin.

"Raw-dogging the beach?“, you ask, which makes him furrow his brows.

"The hell does that mean?“

You snort at his obvious annoyance at your innuendo.

"It means you’re only bringing a towel, nothing to entertain yourself with,“ you explain, gesturing towards your bag. Joel shakes his head, still frowning.

"I’m going to the beach, not the library,“ he answers, and starts walking towards the elevators, his flip-flops making their soft sound on the floor. Your gaze flickers down towards his legs, his swimming trunks revealing tan thighs.

"Comin’?“

You swallow, and catch up with him.

***

He’s fucking gorgeous. It’s a problem, how gorgeous he is, tan torso, swimming trunks low on his hips, bits of dark hair scattered across his chest and soft belly. His shoulders are wide, like they were made for swimming, his hair glistening as he shakes like a wet dog when he comes up for air. You have been staring at the same page for far too long now, but there’s no way Joel is able to notice your staring, not when you’re wearing your sunglasses and he’s busy swimming.

You know it’s a bad idea, that there’s no good that can come from crushing on a man twice your age, more than that, even. You know he must surely see the girl who came over to borrow his bike with tears of anger in her eyes every time he looks at you, and you know how much he respects your father.

Still, you are allowed to have fun. You’re doing this for your Dad more than anything, and you’ve been bending over backwards trying to make him proud with your good grades, so if there’s something you’re able to get out of this trip, you figure you’re at least allowed to look. And anyway, it’s not hurting anyone. It’s just natural, the half-naked bodies and blissful relaxation would affect anyone who has spent the last four months cramped up in a little dorm room.

You watch Joel swim towards the beach again, rising out of the water like some sort of Poseidon sent to personally make this trip unbearable for you. You think of his reaction when you teasingly called him Daddy, and swallow.

"Fuck,“ you mumble to yourself, when he tugs on his swimming trunks so that they don’t slide over his hips, dripping water onto the dry sand all around him. He smiles at you as he makes his way over to your spot – two deckchairs shielded by a parasol.

"Wow,“ Joel says sarcastically, when he looks at your book, still on page two. "Real page turner, huh?“

You blush, and open your mouth to defend yourself, but Joel’s expression softens, all biting humor gone, as he grabs his towel.

"You’re allowed to take a break from studying, you know?“

You watch him dry himself off, big hands rubbing the towel over his chest and stomach, leaving his legs to dry on their own, as he lays down on his deckchair.

"Easy to say, you’re not the one who has to face my Dad if you fail all your exams.“

Joel turns his head towards you, and you’re struck by how gentle his expression is.

"I know he can be a hard ass, but I guarantee you you’re not goin’ to fail all your exams, kid.“

You sigh and shrug.

"He give you a hard time ’cause of your grades?“

"No,“ you answer quickly, all of a sudden feeling defensive of your father. "I just wanna…make him proud.“

Joel smiles.

"I know for a fact you’re doin’ that without even tryin’. And anyway, it’s good to take breaks. Let’s your brain cool off and absorb information much better afterwards.“

Can’t argue with that logic, you think and close your book with a thud. Joel grabs it from you and throws it into your beach bag.

"I grant you two hours of studying each day,“ he says, and you have to laugh. "The rest is for having fun, gettin’ tan and drinkin’ cocktails."

It’s preposterous, that he would order you around like that after you told him you need to study, back before you even made it to the airport. But something is different here, away from your desk, and your Dad’s broken leg (and the rest of him, for that matter). Joel and you have fallen into an easy dynamic, and although it’s unusual, your reservations are gone. You’re actually looking forward to spending time with him, and not just because of the way his belly nudges against the waistband of his swimming trunks, or how his accent seems to thicken in the sun.

"Fine,“ you say, "but you’re paying for my tuition if I do end up failing, Miller.“

He grins at you.

#mine #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us part 1 #tlou1 #tlou #pedro pascal #my writing #dbf!joel #older!joel #smut #Joel miller smut #Joel miller fanfiction #dbf!joel miller #tlou fic #my burning sun will someday rise

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aisquaredchoco · 1 month ago

Text

Advent gifts out in the wild! Thank you everyone for participating!

To the ones who missed out the 12-day event, or just wanted to revisit the goodies, here's everything under one post. Enjoy! 🎅

More info below the cut..

🎄 DAY 1: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "Tres Rugs by Sleek Sensations"

This rug actually has five presets (I said only four in the advent post *facepalm*), where one preset has only one channel, three have varying color channels, and another one that is not recolorable. Found in Decor > Rugs, costs §430.

🎄 DAY 2: Cozy Patio Table

I made this table using the legs from the "Deluxe Cozy Terrarium" from Outdoor Living, then put a glass top and voila! A cozy patio table. Five slots as with any 1x1 dining table with one channel. Found in Surfaces > Dining Tables, costs §200.

🎄 DAY 3: 4to3 Snowy Escape "Bamboo Forest Fence"

Yep, we are still lacking various fences in TS3, hence converting this gem from Snowy Escape. Three channels, costs §25. Found in Build mode > Fences.

🎄 DAY 4: 4to3 "RAW Utensil Holder"

For the clutter lovers, here's something for your kitchen, if you also love the industrial accents from TS4 like me. Four channels, costs §430, found in Decor > Sculptures, Misc.

🎄 DAY 5: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "FaceBowl by Sleek Sensations"

This conversion took almost a year in the making and thought would never get finished, but here it is, finally ready to conquer your bathrooms! Four channels, costs §670, found in Plumbing > Sinks.

🎄 DAY 6: Outdoor Living "Class-E Dining Table" Unornated

I love the stuff from Outdoor Living, but why didn't EA make un-ornated versions of the furniture for variety? And so I did the work. Same channels and slots as the original, only differs in price which is now §825. Found in Surfaces > Dining tables. Outdoor Living not required.

🎄 DAY 7: 2to3 Apartment Life "BLOK Jr. Block from COGnition"

I miss the industrial/gearhead aesthetic from TS2:AL and this wall is one of those, so I converted it. Three channels, costs §11, found in Walls > Panelling.

🎄 DAY 8: Outdoor Living "The Poet's Respite" Unornated

Another un-ornated piece of furniture from Outdoor Living (I just couldn't stand the cursive elements sometimes @.@). Lowered the price to §300, everything else is left intact. Outdoor Living is also not required.

🎄 DAY 9: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "Pots Descending from Ceiling"

I hate repeating myself, but yeah it's nostalgia that's the main reason why I convert 2to3 items. Especially from this stuff pack, I'd love to convert everything else left unconverted from it (but the counters stop me from doing so). Two channels, costs §160, found in Decor > Sculptures, Misc.

🎄 DAY 10: 4to3 Max20 Shark Plush Toy

I've been pondering if I should put this one up for download, because I couldn't find the original cc post to link. But having seen this 4to2 conversion, I figured I should also share it. Two channels, costs §100, found in Decor > Misc, Kids > Misc. Credits to Max20 for the original TS4 creation.

Fun fact: I own a real life counterpart of this plushie (I got this as a secret santa gift), and now my cat has already claimed it as his property. 🐱🦈

🎄 DAY 11: Ambitions "Le Sconce" made fully CAStable

I hate it when EA decides to make an object part unrecolorable when there are actually many ways to redesign it, like in this default replacement I did on a mirror. This wall lamp now has the emblem CAStable, and also edited the mask into three channels for a more versatile recolorability. This is a default replacement, so you need Ambitions for this to work properly.

🎄 DAY 12: 4to3 "The Centurion"

Need something to fill your dining room but too lazy to decorate it using shelves and clutter? Say no more! This pre-decorated hutch from TS4 is now also available for TS3! Three channels, costs a hefty §1880 (why EA?), found in Decor > Sculptures.

POLYCOUNT INFO:

Tres Rugs by Sleek Sensations: 80 (hLOD)

Cozy Patio Table: 526 (hLOD)/220 (mLOD)

Bamboo Forest Fence: 44 (main)/48 (diagonal)/12 (post)

RAW Utensil Holder: 250 (hLOD)/220 (mLOD)

FaceBowl by Sleek Sensations: 1356 (hLOD)/877 (mLOD)

Class-E Dining Table Unornated: 750 (hLOD)/257 (mLOD)

The Poet's Respite Unornated: 994 (hLOD)/360 (mLOD)

Pots Descending from Ceiling: 2122 (hLOD)/1190 (mLOD) (!!!)

Max20 Shark Plush Toy: 750 (hLOD)/444 (mLOD)

The Centurion: 420 (hLOD)/360 (mLOD)

DOWNLOAD FOLDER: Simfileshare | Mediafire

*All converted items contain catalog descriptions from their respective original games.

**I would also like to thank @simlicious for her wonderful selection of Christmas themed patterns, one of which I used on the wall in the previews, found here. Please check out her website if you haven't yet..

#ts3cc #download #dl:buy #dl:build #dl:defaults #sims 3 #ts3 #4to3 #2to3 #ts4 to ts3 #ts2 to ts3 #simblr #sims 3 cc finds

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 10 months ago

Note

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter.

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway.

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence.

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan.

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life.

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together.

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you.

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes.

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk.

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop.

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in.

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.”

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.”

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day.

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually.

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid.

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did.

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.”

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner.

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way.

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude.

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.”

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked.

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“What’d you do this weekend?”

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.”

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?”

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his.

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.”

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of.

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked.

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked.

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.”

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot.

God, you were down bad.

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face.

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed.

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded.

That was all you needed to hear.

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible.

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little.

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting.

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual.

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken.

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.”

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?”

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger.

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.”

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm.

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed.

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece.

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice.

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!”

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his.

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive.

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless.

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!baureader

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targaryenmarvel · 6 months ago

Text

Fallin' All In You (Part 6) - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You’ve known Wanda Maximoff since you were children. She was the shy and exceptionally beautiful twin sister of your best friend, Pietro. For the most part, you two never interacted, but that changes when against your better judgment, you begin to develop feelings for the girl.

Warnings: Only cursing for now

Note: Hey, everyone, I hope you are all doing well. I just wanted to share the last chapter of Fallin' All In You. I'm sorry it took so long, but I had a horrible writer's block for the ending. Good news: I'm already working on my next series. I'll share more info soon. Happy reading, everyone!

Word count: 3,162

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Y/N," the blonde boy's voice pierced the air, a potent mix of urgency and confusion. He abruptly halted before the temporary fence enclosing the Ferris wheel, his eyes wide in suspicion.

You were frozen in your tracks as his voice hit you like a splash of cold water. At your side, Wanda gently let go of your hand and took a step away, causing a pang of pain in your chest at her sudden distance.

Pietro's eyes danced between you, yet yours remained fixed on the boy. The longer you remained silent, the more suffocating the atmosphere became. Crystal bounced on her feet uncomfortably and could no longer withstand the tension. She loudly clasped her hands together, drawing the attention of the group.

"I'm just gonna head to the restroom. I'll be right back, babe," she announced, awkwardly walking backward. Pietro half-mindedly nodded as he returned his gaze to you and Wanda.

"This is unexpected," he finally said, scratching his head. "I thought you were doing photography with Shuri today," he told Wanda with a quirked eyebrow before addressing you, "You said you were hanging out with Daisy, but instead, I found you here with my sister."

From your side, Wanda shifted, shooting you a questioning look. You internally kicked yourself for not thinking of a better lie than hanging out with another girl.

Wanda twisted her rings, eyes settling on anything but her twin brother. "Piet, I know you're upset. The last thing you expected to see tonight was your sister and best friend together."

Pietro scoffed and violently shook his head. "Is that what you think? Wanda, I've known about you two since before either of you did." The two of you shared a bewildered look, and Pietro released an exasperated sigh. "Sistra, anytime I mentioned Y/N, you'd grow flustered or hide away when she came over." He turned to you with a scrutinizing glare. "And you're no better, Y/N. Third grade, when Wanda shared her favorite color with the class, you suddenly started buying all things red despite blue being your favorite color."

You froze in place, utterly speechless, as his words hit you like a bolt of lightning, leaving you stunned and reeling. Your brain raced as the haze of the childhood memory disappeared at his words, and you suddenly remembered ruining your school supplies so your mother would have to buy you everything in red.

"I would have to be blind not to notice your little interaction while you're on the field. You were throwing lovesick glances at eachother throughout the game, for god's sake." He waved his arms around to make his point.

Your face flushed red, and you stuttered embarrassingly, trying to deny his words, yet you couldn't. Similarly, Wanda shifted in place, her face burning, as she stared at the grass.

"I'm not mad about you being together. In fact, I couldn't think of a better match since I love you both. Which is why I am hurt you were so afraid to tell me." He stopped stepping closer to you as he took a deep breath, calming himself. "It was fun at first watching you scramble around me, but now, are you that scared of me?"

Your heart dropped.

"Don't be mad at Y/N. She wanted to tell you, but I was too scared. You two have been friends since we were kids, and us being together..." She cast her gaze down, wrapping her arms around herself, and continued in a small voice, "If you want to blame anyone, blame me."

For the first time, you opened your mouth. "Wanda, you can't take the blame for a decision we made together. We are both at fault." You pried her hand away from its confinement, securing it as you turned to Pietro. "I'm sorry we kept it from you, Pietro. And no, it wasn't because I was scared of you. I lied because I was afraid of ruining our friendship."

Pietro's face softened at your declaration. "Y/N, unless you plan on hurting Wanda, you will never lose me, and I doubt you would ever do that to her."

"Never," you assured, shaking your head and glancing at Wanda. The young woman stared down bashfully with a tiny smile, and your heart swelled. You said the following words, staring directly at her. "I'm serious about us. I would have never risked our friendship if I wasn't."

"I know, and I'm sorry if I overreacted earlier. It's just you're my baby sister," he said, looking at Wanda.

She rolled her eyes, muttering, "It's only 12 minutes."

Pietro ignored her, turning to you, "And you're my best friend. That fact that you are together doesn't change anything. I still want you to rant to me when she nags you over playing too many video games like she does with me. Or whenever Y/N is being an idiot because we all know how dense she can be. I mean, it took her ages to figure out she liked you."

You turned red, and Wanda snorted, bringing her hand to cover her mouth in a futile attempt to save you from further embarrassment.

"No matter what, both of you can come to me."

Wanda lunged forward into his arms, hiding her face in his neck. He enclosed her in his arms, squeezing her tightly as he gave you a goofy grin.

"Bring it in." He removed one of his arms from Wanda and extended it to you invitingly. In normal circumstances, you would have pushed the boy for subjecting you to the embarrassing public display of affection. Yet the rollercoaster of emotions you endured clouded your judgment, and you soon joined the siblings, wrapping your arms around the two.

Although you could feel a few curious eyes on you and a tinge of self-consciousness, you still wrapped your arms around the two.

"Aw, how cute," Crystal cooed, settling next to you three, effectively ending the moment as you scrambled away from eachother. "Oh, don't stop on my account."

"Anyway, I wanted to ride the Inversion, but Crystal's a chicken," he flinched as she slapped his arm. "Are you down?"

You looked at Wanda, and she nodded. Yes, you were whipped.

"Lead the way."

The four of you made your way to the ride, only separating as you and Pietro got into the line, leaving the girls to wait on the other side.

Wanda and Crystal leaned on the metal railing, observing the spinning contraption in complete silence. Despite their lack of interaction, Wanda felt comfortable with the girl. Wanda had been around many of Pietro's conquests, and although she knew little of Crystal, she seemed different from the frivolous, self-centered girls his brother liked to date. Of course, she was otherworldly beautiful with her flowing strawberry-blonde hair, striking green eyes, and alluring personality: charismatic, confident, intelligent, athletic, but most importantly, kind. No wonder she was popular, and no wonder Pietro had gone after the girl.

Crystal shuffled on her feet while watching the operator open the railing gate, and more people, including you and Pietro, entered the ride.

"You know, when Pietro mentioned Y/N and Daisy were hanging out today, I thought the girl had finally mustered the courage to ask Y/N out," Crystal mused thoughtfully.

Wanda's furrowing face sharply twisted her way. "Ask Y/N out?

"Yeah, everyone knows she's had the biggest crush on her since freshman year, but you beat her to the punch. I'm not disappointed, though. You two make a cute couple," she explained dismissively, not sensing Wanda's distress, before waving to the moving ride. "Oh, there they go!"

She watched as the platform spun, and the two continued in silence. Wanda's mind lingered on the so-called Daisy. Who the hell was this girl who had a crush on you? Why did you tell Pietro you were hanging out? Did you know of her feelings? Wanda's head filled with insecurities like a dark cloud lumming in the sky.

The thoughts continued as you and Pietro rejoined the girls. However, they eased into the back of her mind as you took her hand and flashed her a bright smile—a reminder that she had the privilege of tasting your lips; she was on a date with you, and you wanted her.

Wanda squeezed your hand as the two of you followed Pietro and Crystal to the game stalls after deciding to continue as a group. The two of you teased her brother as he attempted to outsmart the rigged games as if you hadn't faced the same predicament earlier as you tried to impress Wanda.

"Why don't you try hook-a-duck? Maybe you'll have better luck," you playfully suggested as Pietro failed to knock down the entire tower of cans for the third time. Wanda snickered into your shoulder as her brother fixed you with a glare.

"Fuck off, Y/N. ," he said as he handed the boy in charge of the stall more bills. He recoiled his arm, preparing to throw, before an idea crossed his mind. "In fact, why don't you show me how it's done?" he offered, extending the bean bag to you.

You huffed nervously, looking to Wanda for help, as you remembered how you could only knock over a few cans earlier. Wanda had cleared all the cans.

"You should give it a try," she said with a devilish smirk, crushing any hope of evading the challenge. You stared at her in betrayal, eyebrows drawn together and mouth agape. Wanda revealed in your reaction, finding it humorous and equally adorable, so much so that she leaned in to kiss you on the cheek and whispered, "Aim for the bottom middle, detka."

A blushing mess and dazed, you took the bean bag from Pietro and positioned yourself behind the stall. Detka. The word rang through your skull, and you tried to recognize its meaning. For all you knew, she could be calling you an idiot, yet the soft and endearing tone made you think otherwise. You would ask her later, you settled.

You experimentally swung your arm, analyzing the pyramid. The base consisted of four metal cans, and per Wanda's instruction, you were to aim for the second and third. You inhaled deeply before releasing the bean bag in an underhand throw. It hits the second tier's third can, and three crumble, leaving seven remaining. You run your tongue between your lips, irked that you have missed your target, and you readjust your position. You throw again, this time hitting your target. The remaining cans in the second and third tier fall, and they miraculously knock the first can in the fourth tier, leaving only one left.

Wanda cheers you on from behind, and so does Crystal; Pietro complains beside her. "Babe?" He questioned reproachfully, and you stifled a laugh.

You aim the final bean bag at the remaining can, calculating how much strength to use. The bean bag grazes the can, moving slightly but not falling over.

"Fuck," you whisper defeatedly.

"Not so cocky now, huh?" Pietro mused, quirking an eyebrow at you.

"I don't think you have any room to talk, Piet. She still did better than you," Wanda defended, crossing her arms as you returned to her side with your new keychain.

"She's right, babe," Crystal joined in, biting back a laugh when Pietro turned to her with a look of betrayal.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be. You're going to gang up on me, now?" He scoffed, his eyes jumping between the three of you. "Traitors."

The three of you could no longer contain your laughter at Pietro's antics. Oh, how you had missed him the past few years. Though you chatted frequently, nothing compared to the banter you shared when you were together.

"You're such a drama queen, Piet," you say, wrapping your arm around Wanda's shoulder, who hides a snicker behind her hand.

Pietro turns to respond, but Crystal takes him by the arm, leaning in to kiss his cheek. The boy's face softens, and the bright lighting of the stall allows you to notice a faint redness on his face as he grins, pleased with himself. He had accomplished what he sought: charming Crystal.

Some of you wanted to tease the boy, yet how could you when his sister had you following her like a lost puppy? Her kiss or a simple touch had you melting like ice on a scorching summer day. The evidence came when Wanda turned to you, a radiant smile spread across her face, causing your chest to tighten and leaving you momentarily breathless.

The group of you wandered around the fairgrounds, and before you knew it, it was 9:45 PM. You could feel your body growing tired, your feet aching after so much walking, and you could tell Wanda felt the same way. As your arms circled her waist with your chin resting on her shoulder, you could see her head tilt up and release a long yawn.

When Pietro and Crystal invited you to watch a local band the organizers booked to play, you and Wanda declined in favor of going home. Wanda fell asleep within ten minutes of your journey home, perhaps lulled by the soft voice of Lana del Rey. Unlike the night she had stayed over, you couldn't afford to admire the sleeping girl lest you wish for disaster. Then, you would undoubtedly replace Jarvis for the worst date ever.

You contented yourself by humming to the music and tapping on the steering wheel. When you parked in front of her house, Wanda remained deep in slumber, her chest rising slowly with each breath. How could she become more beautiful each time you look at her?

You reached over, gently rubbing her arm, and Wanda groaned, scrunching her face into a scowl, disgruntled by being disturbed.

"Wake up, sleepy head. We're here," you said, biting back a laugh.

Her eyes snapped open at your words, embarrassment washing over her face.

"Sorry," Wanda said, rubbing at her eyes.

Your lips twitch upwards, arching a singular eyebrow. "What for?"

"I fell asleep."

"I don't mind. In fact, I immensely enjoyed the little nose scrunch you do when sleeping. It's cute," you teased, recalling the small detail from the one time you risked a glance.

"Oh, god, stop," Wanda grumbled into her hands.

You hummed, your teeth grasping your lower lip, lost in deep contemplation.

"I don't think I will. I like making you blush. It makes you even more adorable," you stated matter-of-factly.

"Is that so? How about you then? You were red as a tomato when Pietro exposed you. Hmm, buy everything red because it's my crush's favorite color."

You opened your mouth to counter, yet nothing came out. She had you.

"Touche," you said.

"Oh, let's not forget all the staring you do. Just so you know, I have noticed. I preferred not to call you out, but why not since we are discussing what's adorable? Definitely adorable, don't you think?"

"I invoke the fifth," you said with a pout, glad for the lack of lighting, which concealed your burning face.

Wanda reveled in her victory with a knowing smirk. She would have happily continued her teasing were it not for a yawn that reminded her of her fatigue.

"I should get going," she signed.

"Okay," you agreed reluctantly, knowing you could talk to her for hours. However, you would not prevent her from getting her much-needed sleep.

Wanda moved to grab the door handle, but you stopped her.

"Let me," you said, rushing out to her side of the car to open the door. "Oh, let's not forget this."

You opened the back door, retrieving the bear you had gifted her. You then accompanied her to her front door, where you both lingered, trying to prolong the moment.

"Thank you for today. It was fun." Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, shielding herself from the light night breeze.

"Best date you've had, right," you remind, and Wanda rolled her eyes with a smile tugging at her lips.

"So far," she countered before giving you a chaste kiss. "Goodnight, Y/N." She turned to leave, but you reached out, grasping her elbow, fueled by the sudden kiss, to ask something you had been dying to.

"Wait," you drew out the word, heart hammering in your chest. "I was waiting to ask you because I wanted to do it right. You know, after we told Pietro—not that I need his permission or anything," you fumbled, scratching the back of your neck. Wanda watched, amused yet curious.

"Anyway," you said, taking her hands into yours and looking straight into her forest-green eyes. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

Wanda remained still, processing your words. For a moment, you thought she would reject you, telling you it was too early to commit in such a way. Then, something shifted, and you noticed the unmistakable twinkle in her eyes, reflecting pure happiness. Her wide grin stretched from ear to ear, revealing a set of radiant, pearly white teeth. Her answer came in one word.

"Yes."

"Yes?" you questioned, unbelieving eyes switching her own to her lips as you pulled her closer.

She only nodded, closing the gap. Your lips locked together, fitting like puzzle pieces in a gentle kiss. You quiver under her delicate hands as they settle on the curve of your jaw. Your hands found a home on her waist, pulling her closer and sealing any gap that remained between your bodies. Your lips moved gracefully and in perfect sync in a kiss of pure tenderness and devotion. There was no rush as you parted with a gasp, searching her face and finding her swollen red lips gaping for air and unbridled affection in her green eyes.

The mesmerizing sight ignited a surge of emotion as you retook her lips with intensified passion, causing your teeth to collide in a fierce kiss. Your surroundings disappeared, unconcerned by being discovered by the neighbors or Wanda's mother. You could only think of Wanda, the warmth of her body, and the hunger with which she returned your kiss. You felt your body ascend as you bit down on her bottom lip, and she moaned.

The kiss and the day's events quickly overwhelmed Wanda with emotion, from cracking jokes or intentionally making a fool of yourself just to make her laugh to the heartwarming way you had gifted her your skeeball prize—the same one she had dropped in favor of grasping your jaw. She would have to take better care of the bear. Even being discovered by Pietro had ended pleasingly. Everything had been perfect—everything except...

Wanda suddenly pulled away, lips smacking from the action. The brunette arched an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side in the menacing manner you loved. Although confused by the action, it only made you want to kiss her more. It was only her following words that stopped you.

"Who the hell is Daisy, and why did Pietro think you were out with her today?"

You chuckled nervously, looking at anything but the brunette. You were so in trouble.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A/N: Thank you to all who have read this story and liked, commented on, or reblogged it. I was hesitant to share my writing, but your support has given me the confidence to continue posting my work. Hopefully, you'll like what I have planned next!

Taglist: @alexawynters

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #targaryenmarvel fics

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heytherecentaurs · 1 year ago

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Burrow's End is an absolute masterpiece.

In the span of ten episodes Aabria and Co. weave an exciting and emotional adventure story about a family of sentient stoats. It delivers huge laughs, interesting societal criticism, remarkably emotional and well-acted scenes and concludes with a series of epilogue scenes that feel appropriate for each character, some heartfelt and subdued and others bigger than life and all the funnier for it.

Siobhan and Izzy play the perfect pair of siblings. They fight and argue but they also love each other. Jaysohn (Siobhan) looks up to Lila (Izzy) and believes she's the smartest stoat in the world (and by the end she probably is) and Lila hypes up her little brother's athletic skills. They both fully embodied these kids and I could watch them do fun stuff for more episodes. Give me a version of Saved by the Bell with them. Stoat by the Bell.

Brennan and Rashawn, playing sisters, also knock it outta the park, showing a more mature sibling dynamic. Brennan portrays Tula as the quintessential overtired single mother of excitable kids, and Rashawn as younger sister Viola straddles a very interesting line of being intimidating to outsiders but very much more naive and looking to her older sister when she starts a family.

Jasper as Thorn, a guy everyone just lets be a cult leader because he really wanted to, is fantastic. His is a difficult role as the only non-blood relative. Jasper plays Thorn with such real humanity of a guy in over his head and letting his ambition wife call the shots, but also one who agrees with her goal, really loves her and has moments of real menace. He has some very funny scenes, his big speech is perfect, and I just enjoy him.

Erika is wonderful. They play the epitome of generational trauma as many have said but as much trauma as Ava has, she is also loving and willing to learn. The fact Erika took this adversarial role is incredible. The tense dramatic scene primarily between Ava, Tula and Viola is amazing. They act their asses off and make hard choices that I imagine are difficult even for such an experienced player.

Aabria's DMing always feels fun. She doesn't get bogged down in the rules. She knows them. She plays by them. But as a master, she knows how and when to break them too. Her seasons on Dimension 20 have all had a tenseness, a particular edge to them that can give me anxiety during dramatic scenes between two characters. It always feel like one of her NPCs may say something devastating and the tension between characters reaches really thrilling heights. This is present in other seasons, but I don't think anyone does it as well as she does. The first season of hers to have battle maps, Aabria really swung for the fences and gave us some of the wildest maps to date.

Shout out to Carlos Luna's voice acting. He did an incredible job. And shout out to the whole crew who have put together one of the best seasons of D20. They keep finding ways to build on what's come before and they should be commended for it.

Dimension 20 is most successful when the concept is very streamlined. They don't do huge 100 episode campaigns capable of handling huge winding complex narrative, but short focused D&D stories, which is why many of the Side Quests have been so fantastic. They embody this philosophy most clearly, but it's apparent in the most beloved Intrepid Heroes seasons as well—John Hughes/High Fantasy, Game of Thrones/Candyland, Retrofuturism, Film Noir but in a Brain... Burrow's End fits this perfectly. It's streamlined concept paired with great storytellers and great chemistry sets it up to be a smash hit before it begins. And goddamn does it deliver.

Thanks Stupendous Stoats!

#dimension 20 #d20 #burrow's end #aabria iyengar #brennan lee mulligan #izzy roland #isabella roland #erika ishii #siobhan thompson #jasper william cartwright #rashawn scott #rashawn nadine scott #carlos luna #dropout.tv #hey there centaurs

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who-is-page · 3 months ago

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Greener Grasses and Fossilized Paw Prints: Where (and Why) the Greymuzzles Go

Author: Page Type: Essay Words: 1,229 Summary: Page's personal experience as an adult canine psychopomp, and how it applies to the dearth of older otherkin in general alterhuman community spaces. Answering the question of: where are all the older otherkin? And why do people always seem to eventually leave? Author's Note: The term "greymuzzle" is used within the scope of this essay's title to reference older otherkin who have been active in alterhuman spaces for extended periods of time (a nod to the word's original definition within furry spaces), and is not referring to greymuzzle's most frequent definition in alterhuman groups as a community-given term denoting an individual with noteworthy activity and contribution.

[Part of the Sol System’s Alterhuman Writing Project for 2024. If you don’t want to see these posts, block the tag #inkedclaws]

When I was a young otherkin, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, I found it difficult to conceptualize why there was such a dearth of older community members, especially those 30 and above. I could understand the theoretics behind the disparity, of course— social media platforms, as we all know, tend to skew towards younger audiences due to generational differences in technological proficiency/preference. Established adults with working lives and families don’t necessarily have the same amount of free-time that young adults or teenagers do, either. But even with all that taken into account, it seemed like the number of otherkin aged 13-21 in comparison to the number of otherkin aged 30+ was less a gradual decline and more an unfathomable chasm of difference. The community had been around for decades at that point, with plenty of ghost town groups and abandoned forums to demonstrate that fact… and unless the Veil was secretly age-restricted, those people hadn’t up and disappeared into thin air. So where were people going? And, more importantly, why?

It was a question I’d never been able to answer in a way that felt satisfactory as a teenager and later as a young adult. But now, feeling the call of the void myself, I finally do have an answer and an understanding that I never could have achieved five or ten years ago: why the fuck would I be online when I could be playing video games or having sex with my hot partners instead?

It’s a crude and simplistic way to put it, but just hear me out. As an established adult, I have access to funds, stability, and freedom that I never had as a teenager or even as a young adult who still felt at the mercy of an uncaring universe’s slightest whims. My support systems in high school and college suffered from the same sort of financial and social precariousness that come with the territory of navigating the world as a young adult, but my support systems now are made up of other established adults; while I’ll never say that everything is always perfect for all of us, it’s much easier to get on your feet and stay on your feet when your arms are linked with people who are more firmly rooted in one way or another. I have access to a type of freedom that I could never have imagined as a teenager, because it was literally outside of the range of what was possible for me and my peers.

And more than just that freedom is the fact that I, as an adult, have a family! “Having a family” has, in my experience, some shitty, heteronormative connotations. As a teen, I always took it at face value as juggling bills, kids, white picket fence, other boring responsibilities that eat up your time, etc. But as an adult, now I know that having a family can be anything you make of it, and I make it extremely, obnoxiously queer. In my case, it’s living with people who understand me on a deep, foundational level, and who love me not in spite of who I am but because of who (and what) I am. It’s not passively being around those people; it’s actively, enthusiastically spending time with them because it’s fun and because I love them too and because they’re my people and I picked them and they picked me. As a kid, I’d never consciously recognized the difference between people you’re passively around because you have to be versus people you intentionally choose to be around and who intentionally choose you right back. In part, this is because as a kid you often don’t get the option to make that choice, while as an adult you have more control over your environment. Too often online environments feel like the former, rather than the latter, even if being within them is, technically, a choice. But here, now, I have people in my household who will go out of their way to intersect their daily lives with mine and ask, “You wanna walk to the park?” “You wanna grab a coffee?” or “You HAVE to see this YouTube essay I’m watching and no I don’t care that it’s 4 hours long on a topic you know nothing about, just trust me!!!!!” and that’s such a radically different and wonderful experience.

As an adult, I live with a group of people who make being alive more fun than I could have ever imagined. I have the ability to make my own fun in ways I couldn’t as a kid, for a variety of reasons. I don’t have to feel like an anxious purse chihuahua 24/7, agonizing over my existence and every possible thing that is liable to go wrong if I frivolously spend money on so much of the thought of a hot coffee. And I finally, finally understand why older otherkin disappear off the face of the Earth. It’s because being an adult nonhuman-identifying person is amazing in a way almost no one ever talks about: the euphoric experience of being known and loved, and of knowing and loving yourself.

There are so many exciting and wonderful things I could be doing in the meatspace with people I have actively chosen to spend my life with, and who fully accept and understand me as someone who’s queer, plural, and nonhuman. There’s so many enriching ways I could be engaging with my hobbies, the environment around me, and my local community. With this all in mind, why the fuck would I ever be in public online spaces where people try to argue with me about whether or not I exist, or if my experiences are real, or if I’m using the right and latest lingo to describe my experiences? Why would I subject myself to that when I could just roll my eyes, close the laptop, and go be a beloved canine psychopomp in the comfort of my werehouse instead?

That’s the crux of it. As adults with families and support networks, we have the option to not subject ourselves to the morifying ordeal of being known by asshole strangers online if we don’t want to. We can stick to just our families and our friend groups, and we will still have people around us who understand and who acknowledge and interact with our alterhumanity. The alterhuman community isn’t the only or even most important place for being our authentic selves; rather, it takes a backseat in the day-to-day life. It’s still something that’s fulfilling and worthwhile to engage with, but only on our own terms (terms that are quickly becoming incompatible with the ways Internet culture is evolving). But more often than not, there’s just more fun things to do.

In some ways, it’s kind of a relief to have had this epiphany. People haven’t vanished from alterhuman community spaces because they collectively ‘grew out of it’ like some anti-otherkin insist, or because the various generations of otherkin are so extraordinarily different from one another as to be oil-and-water. People vanish from online alterhuman spaces because offline life as an adult alterhuman is awesome. As an archivist it’s frustrating, but as a nonhuman, I find it a specific type of happiness that’s worth celebrating in its existence and prevalence. It’s an assurance that life only gets better as you get older: isn’t that grand?

#inkedclaws #alterhuman #ahpi writing challenge #otherkin

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star-har · 7 months ago

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Hey!

Glad to see people coming to fluff out the jjk fic scene 😊 came by to drop a request/idea/suggestion 👀

Gojo receiving from reader | y/n a bag of his favorite sweets and getting instantly disarmed by it (it’s so genuinely heartwarming he has no cheeky comeback).

Bye and wish you a jolly one here on Tumblr 💜

Sugar

| gojo satoru x reader | fluff |

“really?” gojo shouts, amused, as he leans further along the balcony’s fence. “i could dodge that in my sleep, megumi!” he laughs as he watches maki strike yet another hit, her sword sweeping megumi off his feet.

megumi scowls where he’s splayed out across the grass, eyes set in narrow lines, glaring up at him. “maybe if you actually helped,” megumi scoffs dully, pushing off the grass.

“where’s the fun in that?” gojo laughs, waving his hand lazily. “you’re doing fine. just… less whining more winning, ‘kay?”

“i swear to god, gojo—” megumi continues— and he’s on his ass again, maki cackling where she points her katana at his chest.

gojo knocks his head back, rumbling with laughter and turns to find the next sparring duo. panda and yuji, however, are nowhere to be seen. and with a short scan of the field, he finds itadori climbing up the hill to where he’s standing.

“can we please stop training, gojo-sensei,” he says as soon as he’s in earshot, doubling over with his hands gripping his knees. he’s huffing and puffing, raging for breath.

gojo’s grin remains, pushing off the fence and crossing his arms on his chest. “a break? already?” yuji nods, gojo laughs harder. “you won’t become a top-tier sorcerer by taking breaks—”

his words get interrupted by a shriek, and gojo’s attention snaps down to the field to find nobara squealing, waving up at— you.

he spies you walking through the tree line, a smile tugging your lips as you crouch down by the top of the stairs to high-five nobara and greet the rest of his students.

“hey, you guys!” you shout, the rest of your words being drowned by everyone’s cheers.

he looks back to yuji, surprised to find he’s already half-way across the field, heading to where you’re standing.

gojo sighs with a smile and follows after him, lazily shoving his hands into his pocket.

“well, well,” he begins as he comes to stand behind you.

ever the composed woman, you don’t even flinch at his sudden voice, standing and turning around, eyes narrowing up at gojo.

“look who decided to grace us with their presence?” he smirks lazily, emanating ignorance, head cocking to the side.

“hello to you too, satoru,” you reply.

gojo scans you quickly, scrutinizing— you’re mission had been to exercise a special grade curse and surprisingly, it had taken you nearly an entire day. despite your immense skill when it came to sorcery, gojo’s always had a way of worrying when it came to you.

and when he inspects you, he’s elated to discover there are no new scars or bandages. in fact, you seem as happy as ever; with the weather warming up, gone is your usual uniform, replaced by a pretty sundress. it’s white, with blue flowers littering its fabric, ending by your calves.

“not exactly,” you smile and turn to his students. “i’m here to see just how much you’ve been burning out these kids.”

“not that much,” is gojo’s immediate response, and he musters an eye roll as his students contradict his previous response.

“we’ve been out here for hours!”

“kelp.”

“and it’s crippling with heat!”

“hey, i told you guys we could find a shadier spot but you didn’t listen to me.” gojo sighs dramatically, standing beside you now.

“oh, you’re full of it—”

“hey what’s that bag in your hand?” gojo recognizes the voice as yuji’s, and he turns to find you fisting a white, paper bag in your left hand. he hadn’t spied it earlier because it was obscured by your dress.

“oh, this?” you bring it up into the air, smiling giddily. you turn on your heel and shove it into gojo’s face. “for you, satoru!”

“for me?” he frowns but takes it from your grip, nonetheless. “what’s the occasion?”

“no reason,” you wave your hand. “can’t a friend get her friend a gift once in a while?”

gojo’s eyes narrow suspiciously, eyeing your smile and then the bag.

“well, open it, will you?” nobara scowls.

he narrows his eyes and pries the bag open where’s it’s taped at the top, eyes widening and grin faltering as he sees its contents— treats.

all kinds— tarts, lemon drops, cupcakes, mochi, macarons.

“you got these…” he trails off, stomach doing a flip. he turns to glance up at you, barely paying any heed to the bag being ripped from his grip by one of his students, eagerly searching what’s got him at a loss for words.

instead, he stares at you confused.

“just thought you might like them,” you smile softly, eyes warm. “picked them up as souvenirs on my mission in kyoto.”

“oh, these look great!” yuji exclaims, handing the bag over for his sensei to take once more— which he does, silently. “i’ll have to help myself to one later!”

his students continue with the conversation, but gojo only barely registers what they’re saying, instead watching you with keen eyes.

you stare at him expectantly, frowning.

“you bought these for me?” his voice comes out in a higher pitch than he had liked.

you nod, surprised, clearly not expecting this reaction. no cheeky comebacks, no insults— just quiet and processing. very odd on his part.

“sensei, are you blushing?” nobara gasps, mouth dropping, and his students erupt in shock.

gojo’s quick to respond, shaking out of his current, elated state. “i— what, no. just… surprised is all. get back to training.” he turns to you again, blatantly ignoring their groans, and offers a tight-lipped smile, only growing redder. “thank you.”

“the lemon drops were my personal favourite,” you say. “but you’d probably like the tarts! there’s two flavours— chocolate and berry.”

“I’ll give them a try,” he replies. “you’re really something, you know that?”

you shrug lazily, scrunching your nose. “someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

“can’t have me going too cocky, huh?”

you nod slightly and offer a loud goodbye to his students, and to his awe — and delight — drop a small kiss on his cheek, before turning and disappearing into the forest.

he stares after you, skin tingling where your lips had just been, fingers grazing lightly across his cheek.

gojo’s bubbling, glowing. that’s why he barely pays attention to his students eyeing him with knowing looks and mischievous expressions.

———

omg my first request ahhhh thank you so much!! absolutely adore this idea so thank you for suggesting 🫶🫶

i hope you enjoyedddd i know it’s a bit rough and rushed but I’ve caught a cold and need severe sleep so spare me 🙏🙏

kisses,

har xx

#gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #panda jjk #inumaki toge #maki zenin

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applesandbannas747 · 7 months ago

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i wanna hear your thoughts on the fence challengers: long shot preview pages if you want to share!

oh mAN I have so many and they are all over the place!!

The first one is a little thing, but I bet Seiji had a crush on Marcus Washington when he was a kid--Nick's horror, Harvard's teasing, and Seiji's indignant blush imply as much.

And a fun fact, Jo posted a mini preview of baby Seiji to Patreon on February 14th...maybe I'm reading into it too much, but that's nothing new XD

Next couple of things are about the scene with the trophy case. It was really interesting and fun to see side-by-side redraws of Robert! It really illustrates the way the style has evolved, and also I gOTTA say it feels like Jo is more invested in Robert based on the level of detail she put in--like it's not just a style comparison, it's also just obvious a lot of attention was put into these shots when a) she could have just reused old shots (which she's done before, so I know it was an option), or kept it more simplified like she did when drawing the original shots.

I also think it's sweet that the redraws have Robert looking much more like Jesse than the originals.

And I am sure I will get flack for this, but I have incredible second-hand embarrassment from Nick leaving his newspaper clipping + note in the trophy case jfhdasl like bestieee noooo anyone can see that shit now oh my god please stooop

Onto some Nichoji thoughts! I love that Seiji's been confirmed as a before-bed reader! Him having a Kindle makes sense for the sheer efficiency of it too lmfao. Of course it's also adorable to see him in reading glasses <3 And then my favorite detail is Nick's stupid nightlight...notice where it is?

Rather than illuminating Nick's side of the room, it's peeking around the curtain and lighting up Seiji's reading, which is beyond adorable and sweet. I wonder whether Seiji stole it or Nick put it there knowing Seiji likes to read before bed, and I love both scenarios.

Also, it's fucking adorable that as soon as Nick mentions their date appointment, Seiji takes off his glasses and lowers his Kindle because it's got his full attention and investment.

And a quick pitstop to the locker rooms!

I like the visual metaphor here with Aiden and Bobby both very casual about changing and both literally having their shirts open; meanwhile, Seiji's straightening the cuffs on his button-down, which is already neatly tucked in and complete with his tie. It just highlights how Seiji's a lot more closed off than the others, and I think this was a neat trick to remind us of that.

In regards to plot, I'm still...really disappointed in the pacing. I know most people feel like it's a slowburn/it's taken a long time to develop, but if you waited to read Fence at all until it was complete and then read it all in one sitting, I think you'd see how unbalanced it is. Williams says that their first match will be in three weeks back right after tryouts:

which means everything between issue 12 and CHALLENGERS has happened in 3 weeks. Seiji and Nick's relationship is so sweet and cute, but it went from resentful rivalry to puppy love overnight with very little 'screen time' dedicated to the actual transition from resentment to friends (which I could write a whole essay on but this is not the post for that lmfao). Furthermore, the fact that it's the first match of State Championships rather than first match of the season is crazy to me. I'll admit, I didn't fence in high school--it wasn't even an option because we didn't have a team. And despite hours of research, the structure of high school team fencing is not entirely clear to me. However, I do know that typical high school sports go through the season, facing every other team in their division or whatever. Based on performance in those matches, they can qualify for state, and then their win ratio determines their seeding order for the state championships that happen in like 1-2 days. Seeding order is who you go up against in a bracket, so it's what this diagram is, basically:

(side note, but it appears there are 24 schools competing at state). Again, fencing could be different, but it kinda seems to me like we skipped over the season and went right to State Championships, which just cuts out so much development and build-up. It's like we're speed-running the entire story to get to the end faster. We cut out showing the development in the romance, and now we're cutting out the development of the plot. There's still plenty that we can do at state, of course, but imagine how much more it would mean to see Nick fencing in front of Robert if we'd built that up more. I just don't understand how we spent 12 issues on try outs, 4 on a practice match, 8 on camp, and none on the fencing season. It feels so abrupt and unbalanced. Tryouts and camp were my favorites arcs because they felt pretty well-paced as self-contained pieces of the story. I just feel like we needed waaaaay more relationship development between those two arcs to be satisfying, and I feel like there should be waaaaay more build up during the fencing season between camp and State Championships.

and now, the moment you've all been waiting for: my devastation over Eugene's role (???) in the story. I honestly question why he's in the story at all--at this point, it would have made more sense to have him flat-out not make the team. Except that keeping him this long lowkey backs up the theory I've had on his role since Striking Distance/RIVALS: Eugene is here to make everyone else look better/cooler/more impressive. The very first thing that struck me when reading the first look was this:

The dialogue here suggests that only one reserve actually gets to be on the team in the end, and the reserve is Nick. And, worse, everyone expected it to be Nick. Sure, it's sweet that Seiji thinks Nick's the better fencer, but all I can think about is how hard Eugene's worked for ten years trying to make the team as opposed to Nick's three months of fencing. Now, I love an underdog story. But it's interesting because Pacat stated in an interview (I'd have to go find where for the specific quote) that he always feels bad for the person who's been working to be #1 their whole lives only to be knocked out of the running by an upstart underdog--which I've always assumed would influence the path taken in Fence...and it seems like we may well let Seiji and Jesse remain above Nick in skill (or at least it seems like we won't be dethroning Seiji, even if we go for Jesse), but Nick's overcoming smaller obstacles. And those smaller obstacles hurt worse to see crushed because Eugene almost made the team in a way that mattered, only to have that taken away. It would have been less cruel to him and his fans to let Nick take the reserve slot back in issue 12, but instead we brought Eugene along to serve as a means to make Nick out 'secret weapon' and elevate his story.

I will say though, this page is one of my favorite Eugene moments because I see the character I selfishly want Eugene to be in it. From the context of the panels above, this page is likely Williams telling them that only one will be fencing in State Championships, and this is their reaction. Eugene's immediate concern for Nick and the comforting hand on his shoulder followed by a bright smile and a thumbs up--he just cares so much about other people and it so used to smiling through his own pain/disappointment and comforts Nick through being positive (and as seen back in issue 12, up playing his competitiveness) and acting like it's no big deal.

Eugene deserved better, but if this is where he goes out, I think I can live with it. Better to see him go now than continue to be a means to uplift the rest of team by being less than. but, man, I was really hoping we were turning it around after his moment in REDEMPTION being the only KR boy not to lose his bout

anyway, thank you sm for listening to my rambles!!! <33

#jackshit #fence comic #fence challengers long shot #fence challengers #seiji katayama #nicholas cox #eugene labao #fencessay #thanks for the ask!! 💜#fence asks #eugene defense squad #to be clear; there are a lot of things I'm excited for--ill just never get over how much better it could have been if the stars had aligned #and fence could have been picked up for its full run and given all the development and attention i have to assume was the original intent

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worlds-worst-ships · 8 months ago

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Welcome to the home of the world's worst ships!

WARNING: BY ENTERING/INTERACTING WITH THIS BLOG, YOU AGREE TO ALL CONDITIONS OUTLINED IN THIS POST.

Hello there, I'm Jack Goodwin and this absolute affront to the natural order that I call a blog is where I take a break from the insane content I normally make to bring you fictional pairings that'll make your heart go "aw man, what in the..."

Wanna stay up to date on my video/.streaming content? Go follow @maji-man. Or just click HERE to see all my socials in one list.

Here's a post where I explain the point of the blog. I highly suggest you read it twice or more to make sure you understand.

Be warned: If you neglect this post and run your mouth in my comments, chances are I'll make fun of you in my videos and streams. Now then, down to business.

Are there two characters that absolutely should not be anywhere near each other, to the point where one should be getting a restraining order? Are there pairings in fiction that you couldn't be paid a quadrillion rubles to come up with on your own? Are you sick of all these picket-fence, vanilla pudding, ERENxMIKASA snoozefests that plague the internet? If so, you've come to the right place. Get your kissy-kissy lips on, find a slightly uncomfortable chair and LETS GET SHIPPING!!!

I have only FOUR RULES HERE:

You can say whatever you want here, so long as;

1. Its not discriminatory

Any sort of phobia/ism here is not welcome. This blog is for everyone, regardless of ethnicity, orientation or gender identity.

2. Its a joke,

and clearly a joke. We poke fun at each other here. Lets keep it fun.

3. Its true.

I have the power of google, and any misinformation will be swiftly corrected. When you are corrected, either accept it or be blocked. Misinformation and straight up lies are not welcome here.

4: You speak with the understanding that these characters aren't real people, nor do they represent them

These are cartoons. Works of fiction. They're not real. Please keep any deep-seated obsession with character's ethnicity, sexuality, age, background etc to yourself. Acting holier-than-thou and making that the subject of your personal issue with my posts doesn't make you a hero, nor is that the groundbreaking opinion you think it is, it just makes the jokes awkward and uncomfortable for many people here.

Aaaaanyways, now we've got that out of the way (and yes, I will add more rules as the need arises, don't test me)

I'll mostly be using the absolute maelstrom of doodoo I call a brain to come up with ideas, but if you'd like to submit some ideas of your own, feel free. Send it to my ASK box. Nothing illegal, past a certain point, please.

Oh, and the ask criteria/format is in the linked post below. (Anonymous asks are and will always be turned off, cuz I know that this site is full of pussies who can't talk shit on main)

JUST IN CASE YOU DIDN'T READ THAT POST, AS I KNOW MOST OF YOU WON'T: If you do not follow that exact format, I WILL DELETE YOUR ASKS ON SIGHT.

I REPEAT: I will not even CONSIDER posting them.

FUN FACT: After having this blog for multiple months with anonymous asks turned off, I haven't gotten a single hate message (other than that one kid who got made a fool out of). This is why they're off, in case you wondered.

Its also worth mentioning, some of you are new to the concept of comedy, so I'll write it nice and big for you (if you know what a crackship/joke is, then skip this paragraph): THIS IS A JOKE BLOG. A GIMMICK BLOG. A COMEDY BLOG. I DO NOT CARE EVEN SLIGHTLY ABOUT SHIPPING AS A CONCEPT MUCH LESS DO I EVEN KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT 9/10 OF THE CHARACTERS YOU'LL SEE HERE, SO IM JUST MAKING J O K E S. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED, THEN YOU HAVE KNOWINGLY CHOSEN TO BE OFFENDED WHICH IS ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT. THANK YOU :)

I REPEAT this is a CRACKSHIP BLOG, so if you're deeply hurt by any of my polls, just know that nothing here reflects me as a person because none of what I post is serious. If anything you see after reading that causes you any emotional distress, it IS NOT my fault. Its funny, but its not my fault.

#shipping #crackship #crossover #gimmick account #gimmick blog #rarepair #rare ship #crack ship #pinned post #pinned intro #read pinned #intro #intro post #introduction post #pinned info

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leighbaye · 1 month ago

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— CINNAMON GIRL ᵖʳᵒˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ

written by mina leigh ୨ৎ , greasers 𝔁 f! reader | wc 886

context. a glimpse into y/n toizer’s life and her connection to the curtis brothers and their group of friends. this multi - part fic explores the bond y/n shares with the boys and how they view her as their “second mother,” a central figure in their lives.

labels. mild language, mentions of familial struggles, and emotional themes of loss and responsibility.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. revamping my first ever work from wattpad, this was truly my best idea just executed very poorly & i was desperate to fix it to my fulfillment. i really hope this reaches my target audience. without further ado, i wish this project shows everyone potential in enjoying. thank you all so much ♡

there’s something about the early evening that seems to freeze time. golden light spills across the cracked pavement, turning everything softer, warmer, even if life in tulsa rarely ever is.

y/n toizer leaned against the rickety fence outside the curtis house, the hem of her sundress swaying lightly in the breeze. her eyes followed her youngest brother, charlie, as he chased after soda and ponyboy with a whoop of laughter. next to her, matteo, taller and already wearing the sharp edges of teenagehood, leaned with crossed arms, watching the chaos unfold.

❝why do i get the feeling they’re going to break something?❞ y/n let out, nudging matteo lightly with her elbow.

❝because they always do,❞ matteo replied dryly, though there was a hint of amusement on his face.

the screen door slammed open, and darry stepped out, wiping his hands on a rag. he looked older than his twenty years, the weight of responsibility written in the lines on his face and the strength in his shoulders. still, when he saw y/n, his expression softened in a way it rarely did for anyone else.

❝you’re too soft on those kids, y/n,❞ darry said, but there was no real heat in his voice.

y/n tilted her head with a smile, her eyes sparkling with affection. ❝they’re just having fun. besides, it’s not like you’re any better. i seem to remember you teaching soda how to climb that tree last summer.❞

darry chuckled, shaking his head. ❝you’ve got a good memory.❞

it was true. she always remembered the little things — like how soda hated peas but loved mashed potatoes, or how ponyboy preferred books over ball games, or how two - bit had a soft spot for anything with a joke attached to it. she remembered how johnny flinched at loud noises and how steve’s bravado hid the fact that he just wanted to be seen.

and then there was dally, the wild card. even he softened around her, though he’d never admit it outright.

when the curtis parents had passed, y/n had stepped in as naturally as breathing. she was there to help darry when he didn’t know how to balance keeping a roof over their heads and making sure soda and pony still had a childhood.

at the same time, y/n had her own family to care for. her brothers needed her just as much, if not more, and she often stretched herself thin trying to be everything for everyone. but she never complained. it wasn’t in her nature.

later that evening, the boys were sprawled out in the curtis living room, the air filled with lazy conversation and laughter.

y/n sat on the couch, her legs tucked neatly under her, a half-mended shirt in her lap. two - bit leaned against the armrest, grinning as he recounted some exaggerated story, while soda rested his head in her lap, contentedly half - asleep.

❝y/n,❞ ponyboy said suddenly, looking up from his book. ❝why don’t you ever get mad at us?❞

the room quieted at his question, all eyes turning to her. she paused, her fingers stilling on the needle and thread.

❝mad?❞ she echoed, tilting her head.

❝yeah,❞ pony continued, his brow furrowed. ❝you’re always so nice, even when we mess up.❞

y/n’s smile was soft, almost wistful. ❝it’s not that i don’t get upset, pony. it’s just … i know how hard life can be. for all of us. sometimes, kindness is the only thing that keeps us going.❞

johnny, who rarely spoke up, murmured, ❝you’re real good at that, y/n.❞

❝at what?❞ she asked gently.

❝at making things better,❞ he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

the room fell into a comfortable silence after that, the kind that only existed between people who truly cared for one another.

as the night wore on, y/n gathered her brothers to head home. charlie was half - asleep, leaning against her side, while matteo walked ahead, his hands shoved into his pockets. darry walked them to the gate, his hand resting lightly on the small of y/n’s back.

❝you know, you don’t have to take care of everyone,❞ he said quietly.

y/n looked up at him, her expression unreadable for a moment before she smiled. ❝i know, darry. but someone has to.❞

❝besides, i want to.❞ y/n let out in a whisper.

he didn’t argue, because he knew she was right. but as he watched her walk away, her silhouette fading into the dark, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry. she gave so much of herself to others, and he wondered if she ever kept anything for herself.

❝take care of her, matt,❞ darry called softly to her brother.

matteo glanced back, his expression serious. ❝always.❞

. . . you’re here! darry curtis sodapop curtis ponyboy curtis

dallas winston johnny cade steve randle two - bit matthews

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 1 year ago

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Our Own Holiday

masterlist

summary: tom can’t celebrate valentine’s day, you can’t celebrate halloween

paring: tom hanniger x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 0.7k

warnings: trauma (not specified) surrounding halloween, language, no spoilers

timeline: set before or after the movie, up to you

author’s note: happy halloween! 🎃👻 (this fic was queued so i’m still not active on tumblr. i’ll be back on my main to celebrate the fifth of november but i don’t think i’ll be uploading any fics until later in the month 💞)

October 31st was the one day a year you absolutely hated. You loved horror movies, autumn weather, and the general aesthetic that surrounded the whole month, but Halloween hadn’t been fun for you in years.

You were currently huddled up on your living room couch and watching Child’s Play when a knock came from your back door. There had been noise coming from your front door all night (understandably so) but the fact someone had climbed your fence was a little unsettling.

You walked through the kitchen and to your back door, smiling when you saw who was there.

“Tom? Oh my god!” you giggled a little after unlocking the door and letting him in.

“I know this night is tough for you so I figured you’d want some company.” He smiled, somewhat sadly, and held up a large bag of candy. “I would’ve been here about two hours ago but I had to find non-Halloween-themed candy and the Target around the corner was out. I had to go to the one on Washington Road.”

“Thank you, Tom,” you said, a smile now on your lips.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked. “Have you gotten many trick-or-treaters?”

“I’ve had a few knocks but I haven’t answered the door,” you said. He put his hands on your shoulders before he pulled you into a hug. “I feel like absolute shit,” you admitted.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“That’s okay. How ‘bout this; I’ll go put a bowl out for the trick-or-treaters and a sign that says not to knock or ring the bell, we can cuddle on the couch and watch movies. It’ll be like… Well, not Valentine’s Day cause I hate that. It’ll be our own holiday that we celebrate twice a year while the rest of the world is celebrating stupid Halloween or Valentine’s Day.”

“My god, what did I do to deserve you, Tom?” You looked up at him as you both pulled back from the hug and he shrugged a little.

“Well, last Valentine’s you did stay with me for the whole day and kept me distracted so I wouldn’t think about it.”

“So…is this the second time we’re celebrating this new holiday of ours, then?”

“You’re right! We need a name for it,” he said as you both walked to the couch before sitting down. You snuggled into his side as he put an arm around your shoulders.

“The Hanniger Holiday,” you suggested.

“Hmm,” he hummed beside you, as if in thought. “I was gonna say ‘we need to have your name in there somewhere’ but I guess Hanniger will be your name someday.”

“You really think?”

“No question, sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek. “I love you, Y/n Hanniger.”

“I love you so much, Tom,” you mumbled, turning to place a kiss on his full lips.

“Love you more.” He smiled against your lips, moving his hand to your cheek as yours went into his hair.

“Not fuckin’ possible,” you said directly into his mouth.

“Definitely possible,” he retorted, “because it’s fuckin’ true.”

“Just shut up and kiss me some more,” you sighed.

A knock at the door and the faint sound of a few kids shouting “Trick-or-treat,” pulled you both out of the happy trance you’d been in.

“I’ll go shut ‘em up,” Tom said before kissing your cheek and standing up. “You stay here, maybe find us a different movie, and I’ll be back before you can say ‘Mr and Mrs Tom Hanniger’ three times fast.”

“But I love this movie,” you pouted, he rolled his eyes playfully before leaving to take care of the people at the door.

He handed out some candy (from another bag he’d bought, this one Halloween themed) before the kids all left. He then set the bag up on the front porch and quickly scribbled a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign that he then taped to the door.

He was back beside you within a couple minutes and, per his request, you’d set up a new movie for the two of you.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Tom exclaimed as the movie started.

#tom hanniger x reader #tom hanniger #my bloody valentine #my bloody valentine 2009 #jensen ackles #jackles character #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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helloalycia · 1 year ago

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the Clarks [one] // alicia clark

summary: when you move next door in a new town, you don't expect to befriend the neighbours – the Clarks – so imagine your surprise when they become family, too.

warning/s: mentions of alcoholism, verbal and physical abuse, absent parenting and drugs.

author's note: someone requested this in my asks not long ago and i’ve been working on it as quickly as i can as it was so fun to write! may have gone overboard though and it’s like 5 parts long but you can never have too much alicia so! hope you like it :)

something to note: Y/M/N = your mother's name

two / three / four / five / masterlist / wattpad

9 years old...

I didn't want to move schools. I had my friends and I liked where I was and the teachers were all nice to me, but that didn't matter to my parents. I knew they weren't moving out of spite, they just had to for their jobs, but I didn't like it.

My new school was hard to adjust to, the teachers nice but strangers. My classmates already knew each other, having grown up together no doubt, and I was the new girl who didn't belong. I wasn't a sociable kid, a little anxious and a little nervous to make new friends, so it was hard for me to settle in. But being quiet meant I was quite observant, too.

It was the first week in my new town, at my new school, when I was getting dropped off home by my mum to our new house. The neighbours, a family I'd noticed since moving here because one of their kids – Nick, I think his name was – was in my class, and they always left around the same time as us in the mornings. And just like that, they were pulling into their driveway at the same time as us now.

When my mum and I got out the car, they were doing the same and I caught Nick's eyes as he jumped out the car. His mum noticed us and offered a smile, waving at us.

"Welcome to the neighbourhood!" she said to my mum, already stepping a little closer to the small fence between our front drives.

Nick smiled a little when he saw me, waving his hand. I began to smile too, my first real welcome since arriving here, and just as I lifted my hand to wave it, my mum grabbed it and dragged me up the driveway and into the house, not giving them a response. I didn't understand why she was being so strange, but when she mumbled 'weirdos' under her breath, I figured she was having a bad day. Still, I smiled to myself at how nice they seemed. They weren't all that weird to me.

In fact, they were quite the opposite.

One day, barely a week later, I was playing in the garden, riding my bike around in circles, when I heard some noises coming from the neighbour's garden. Curiosity getting the better of me, I climbed on one of the bins next to the tall fence separating our gardens and tried to find the source of the music and chatter from next door. Peeking my eyes over the top, I realised they were having a barbecue.

A man was flipping burgers on the grill, a drink in his hand, and he was chatting to who I recognised as Nick's mum. His parents. Nick was there too, playing with his little sister, but nobody had noticed me. At least I thought they hadn't, until I looked back to Nick's mum and met her gaze, freezing in place. She didn't seem angry, instead smiling and waving at me, but it freaked me out that I'd been caught spying so I quickly jumped off the bin and back to my bike.

Trying to distract myself, I rode my bike out front and entertained myself by going in circles around the car. My mum was inside having a drink as my dad was out, so I was a little bored and the music next door was still enticing me. I managed to ignore it long enough until I heard someone walking nearby and looked up. Nick's mum was walking out front too, a bin bag in hand as she threw something out. Again, my nosey self couldn't help but watch her.

She caught sight of me as she was about to return to the garden, pausing to smile at me. "Hey, sweetie."

I pressed my lips together, frozen on my bike yet again.

She glanced around, confused, before asking me, "Are you hungry?"

I nodded, unable to stop myself.

"Well, we're grilling some burgers and we might have made too many," she said with a shrug. "We need someone to help us finish it all. D'you wanna come over and have one? You'll be doing us a massive favour!"

I knew what she was doing and yet it still made me smile a little. But then I stopped myself before I could agree, instead saying, "My mum won't like that."

The blonde smiled softly. "Your mum can come, too, hon. The more, the merrier."

I sighed quietly, shaking my head. Glancing at the house, I said, "She's in one of her moods. She won't."

Nick's mum frowned slightly, before asking, "Alright then. One burger to go?"

My smile returned as I looked back to her. Before I could answer however, I heard my name being called and looked over to the front door to see my mum was stood there, glaring at Nick's mum.

"Sorry," I mumbled, before cycling back to the house and leaving my bike by the door before returning inside. The last thing I wanted was to annoy my mum even more – whenever she drank, she got into one of her moods and that always meant she'd yell at me for no reason before passing out on the couch.

I entertained myself in the living room, playing with some toys and also trying not to look outside whenever I heard laughter from the neighbours. Eventually, my dad came home with some groceries, greeting me with a smile and kiss. The happiness was short lived however, as he and my mum erupted into an argument about how she stank of booze. I didn't want to hear it, but I always had to.

He soon went upstairs to have a nap, and my mum seemed to do the same in the living room, though not by choice. I was alone again, bored and hungry and curious once more. With nobody to stop me, I crept outside into the garden and jumped up on the bin to have a look at the neighbours.

Their barbecue was over now, the music having stopped a short while ago. The smell of grilled burgers still lingered though, and it made my stomach rumble instantly. Frowning to myself, I jumped down from the bin and sat in the grass, pulling out some pencils and drawing to cure my boredom. Not long later however, I heard a noise from the fence.

There were voices, kids voices, a boy and a girl. And then when I looked up, I was startled as I saw Nick looking over the fence and down at me.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to scare you. It's Y/N, right? You're in my class."

I glanced inside, not seeing my mum anywhere, before nodding at Nick, cautious.

"I'm Nick," he introduced with a smile.

I cleared my throat. "Hi."

"I'm Alicia!" a small voice shouted from the other side, below Nick.

I smiled as Nick rolled his eyes.

"That's my little sister, Alicia," he added.

"Hi, Alicia!" I called to her.

"Hi!" she shouted back, and I tried not to laugh.

"Mum said you wanted a burger," Nick said to me.

"I can't come over," I told him regretfully, but he was already holding out a foil-wrapped, burger-shaped object.

"Here," he said.

I began to smile, climbing onto the bin to meet his height, and accepted the burger. I also glanced down next to him to see his sister, Alicia, looking up at me curiously, a friendly smile on her face. She was very pretty, the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, with her hair in pigtails and her green eyes so bright I could see stars in them.

"Thank you," I said, looking back to Nick with immense gratitude, before unwrapping the burger and taking a bite.

"Why can't you come over?" he asked curiously, leaning on the fence.

I nodded behind me. "Mum's in a bad mood."

"Oh," was all he said. "That's annoying."

I nodded in agreement, before saying with a mouthful, "Thanks for the burger."

He began to laugh. "There's ketchup on your face, stupid."

Embarrassed, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "Sorry."

Unfazed, his smile remained. "I'll see you at school tomorrow?" I nodded and he jumped down from the boxes he was precariously balanced on. "Bye!"

Alicia waved bye too, and I returned the gesture to them both with a smile on my face before jumping off the bin and finishing my burger. It was really good.

I didn't expect to befriend any of the Clarks, but that was the start of it all. From there, Nick and I would hang out together at school. It started where we'd wave at each other from our driveways in the mornings and afternoons before and after school, and then we'd play together at school. His mum and sister seemed nice, and just like mine, his dad wasn't around that much, instead always working. We were a lot more similar than I thought.

"Dad," I said as I walked into the living room where he was watching TV. "Please can I go play with Nick and Alicia next door?"

My dad lowered the volume and smiled at me, patting his lap. I jumped on top of him as he hugged me tightly.

"Only if I get a kiss right here," he said playfully, patting his cheek.

I grinned as I kissed his cheek before hugging him.

"Go and have fun, Y/N," he said, squeezing me tightly before patting my pack as I jumped off his lap.

As I was going to fill my bag with some toys from the corner of the room, my mum called from kitchen with disapproval.

"Seriously? You're gonna let her go over there? You don't even know them properly!"

My dad sighed. "They're nice people, Y/M/N. Maybe you'd know that if you ever spoke to them."

"I know enough," she said with bitterness. "And I don't feel comfortable with our kid going over there."

I paused, glancing between them as my mum approached my dad in the living room, hands on her hips.

He stood up, giving her a knowing look. "She's going. She needs to be around other kids." Then his expression softened as he looked to me. "Go on, honey. Go over there."

I nodded, glancing at my mum who seemed to disagree, before grabbing my backpack and leaving through the front door. As I left, I heard them both start to argue and tried to ignore it, feeling a little bad that it was my fault.

When I reached the Clarks door, I knocked on, buzzing with both nerves and excitement because it was the first time I was coming over for a play date. Apart from occasionally see them before and after school, or playing with Nick on the playground, I'd never visited their house before. I was surprised I was allowed, but my dad was always nicer with these things than my mum was.

The door opened to reveal Madison, Nick's mum. She said I could call her that when I saw her after school to pick up Nick once, but it felt strange calling her by her name when she was just 'Nick's mum' in my head. That, or Mrs Clark.

"Y/N, hey!" she greeted with a warm smile, before standing to the side to let me in. "How are you, sweetie?"

"I'm good," I said with a shy smile as she closed the door behind us. "I'm excited to see Nick and Alicia. Thank you for letting me come over."

Nick had asked me yesterday after school if I could come, with permission from his mum, so she already knew.

"Of course, and they're excited to see you too!" she said, motioning for me to follow her through the hallway. "How are your parents?"

I shrugged. "They're okay. They're just arguing a lot lately."

She glanced at me, curious. "About what, sweetie?"

I gripped my backpack straps a little tighter as I told her the truth, relieved to let it out, though my child brain didn't understand why I should keep quiet about stuff like this. "Mum keeps getting in her moods. Falling asleep. Having those drinks she's not supposed to. And dad doesn't like it, so they argue a lot."

Madison paused before we could enter the kitchen, sighing. "They don't argue with you though, right?"

"Dad doesn't," I answered. "Mum does, sometimes. It's not fair because I don't think I've done anything wrong. But then she falls asleep and stops."

She frowned slightly. "You know, Y/N, if they're ever arguing or you just don't feel like they're being very nice to you, you're always welcome to come here, okay?"

I looked away, embarrassed. "I don't think my mum likes me being friends with Nick very much."

Or you, I wanted to add, but it wouldn't have been very polite.

"It doesn't matter," Madison said, setting a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. "I'm here for you, just like Nick. You're always welcome here."

Admittedly, it felt quite nice to have that support from someone, the support I wanted from my mother. I smiled up at her, grateful.

"Thank you, Mrs Clark."

She smiled before opening the back door to the garden. "C'mon. The others are waiting for you."

When we headed outside, I saw Nick and Alicia swinging on their swing set, clearly trying to outdo one another. But as soon as they saw me, they halted and almost fell over trying to run towards me.

"Y/N!" Nick shouted with a grin, before stopping in front of me, breathless. "Did you bring your race car?"

I nodded, already shoving my bag from my shoulders and pulling out my remote-controlled race car that I'd mentioned to Nick I had at school. As soon as he saw it, his grin widened. Alicia tried to take a look too, so I showed her properly.

"Can I play, too?" she asked hopefully, and I couldn't help but smile as I nodded quickly.

"Of course!"

She returned my smile before the three of us went to have a play with it on the tiles next to the back door.

13 years old...

"Dad, I don't get it. What do you mean, you're going?"

He was throwing his belongings into a suitcases haphazardly. It was completely random – one minute I was in my room and the next I heard doors slamming downstairs before I found him storming into his room and packing.

"Your mum and I can't work together anymore," he said regretfully, pausing from his packing to look me in the eye, as if I understood. And I did, to an extent, but it didn't make sense.

Mum's drinking had gotten worse over the years, to the point where they'd constantly argue about it and never actually have anything nice to say to each other. I was his shoulder to cry on, minus the crying. He'd rant to me and tell me how he felt burdened and I'd have to listen to it all, wanting to help him and relating but unsure what else to offer. I hated it and I wished he treated me more as a kid than a therapist, but it was better to have him like that than not at all. Now though, he'd finally had enough and it was scaring me.

"Stay," I told him as calmly as I could muster. "You have to work it out."

He shook his head. "I've tried for many years, honey. It's too late. I can't take it anymore."

I swallowed hard, eyes tearing up as I realised he was serious. He continued to pack, throwing in whatever he could get his hands on, not even bothering to fold anything up.

"Take me with you," I said, deadly serious, and for a moment I thought he'd actually consider it, but he shook his head.

"I can't," was all he said, before throwing his suitcase close and zipping it up.

I rounded the bed to stand beside him, trying to stop him from doing it. "Dad, don't do this. Please, take me with you. You can't just leave me with her!"

He didn't even bother to meet my eyes as he said, "I'm sorry."

Grabbing his suitcase, he pushed past me and began to go downstairs. My heart felt like it was being squeezed, the life draining from it as I realised just what was about to happen. I ran after him, following him down the steps and to the driveway where he was throwing his suitcase into the backseat.

"Dad!" I shouted after him, ignoring the several curse words my mum was throwing at him as she watched from the front door. "Please!"

He continued to ignore me as he got into the driver's seat, slamming the door. I banged on the window as he started the car, embarrassed at the reflection of my snotty, crying self looking back at me, but I didn't care. He was leaving! He was giving up!

"Dad, please!" I begged, banging on the window some more. "Don't do this! Stay!"

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, considering my words.

"Please," I pleaded, voice breaking. "Dad, it's me. Your daughter. Please, don't leave me. I need you."

He closed his eyes tightly before reversing his car suddenly, forcing me to step back. I felt sick and betrayed and broken when I watched him avoid my eyes and simply drive away. He was gone, just like that. My dad. Gone.

I knew he had problems to face with my mother, his wife, but I always thought that he stayed for me. And now he was gone, leaving me behind. Why would he just leave? Why didn't he take me with him? He knew how much grief she gave me, how much she hated me. Why would he do this? Was I not enough?

"...fucking deadbeat!" my mum was shouting at his retreating car from the doorway, clearly drunk.

I looked over at her, the reality of my life settling in. It was just me and her left. No more dad sticking up for me or jumping in to stop an argument from happening. I was stuck with her.

"He's not worth your tears, hon," she muttered with bitterness, before heading back inside.

I blinked, my face hot with tears and anger and hurt, and then more tears rolled down my cheeks and I covered my face, trying to stop myself from breathing so rapidly.

"Y/N!" a voice called, and I looked up to see Nick running from his front door, stepping over the little fence separating our driveways.

Of course he'd seen or heard what had just happened. With all the shouting, I wouldn't have been surprised if the whole neighbourhood had. It was utterly embarrassing, but Nick was the only other person I had to confide in. We'd grown super close over the years, ours play dates becoming regular and him becoming my best friend. His family were like my own, even though I'd never admit it. Madison loved having me over, treating me like one of her own. It wasn't weird between us, not completely, so I accepted Nick's help as he led me back to his house to comfort me.

I couldn't stop crying though, not when he brought me to the couch in his living room and not when I'd created a giant wet patch on his shirt. The tears wouldn't stop coming and I couldn't stop hiccuping and I truly felt like my heart had shattered into a million pieces.

Why didn't he look me in the eyes? Why did he just leave?

"Y/N, I... I'm so sorry," Nick said, rubbing my back. "I don't know what to do."

He was worried, I knew it, and I wanted to assure him that he didn't need to do a thing, but I couldn't get the words out. I'd never behaved like this in front of him – it was too much.

"Oh my God, Y/N," Alicia's familiar voice was heard from the living room doorway, and now I felt like a spectacle, both embarrassed and ashamed.

"Go get mum!" Nick told her quickly.

"No!" I said suddenly, breathing shakily and voice hoarse. "I'm fine, I–"

But the words were stuck and my dad driving away was permanently fixed in my mind and hot tears rolled down my cheeks once more. Alicia must have gone to fetch Madison because soon enough, she was present and replacing Nick's seat beside me.

"Y/N, what happened?" she asked instantly, holding my back gently.

I looked up, meeting her eyes with my blurry ones. "He left. He's not coming back. He–he doesn't want to be my dad anymore, Mrs Clark. He–he's gone."

Madison pulled me close, holding me as I sobbed quietly into her shoulder. She stroked my hair until I finally stopped crying, reduced to sniffles and hiccups. When I found the courage to pull away, I saw Nick and Alicia hiding by the doorway, spying on us both. Hot with embarrassment, I wiped my tears from my face frantically.

"Nick, Alicia?" Madison called for them. "Come here, please."

Embarrassed they'd been caught, they shoved one another before reluctantly stepping inside again and stopping beside her.

"Sorry," Nick said, eyes flickering over to mine. "We were just worried."

"Forget that," Madison said, before nodding to the armchair. "Sit down."

They obeyed, sharing a seat and waiting patiently for her to speak, as was I. To my surprise, she looked to me with conviction, pushing my hair from my eyes.

"You're family, Y/N. We're all here for you, okay? You're not alone. No matter what happens, you need to know that." She paused, before glancing over to her children. "Isn't that right, kids? Tell her."

They both nodded in agreement.

"You're part of our family," Alicia said, green eyes meeting mine with concern.

"Always," Nick agreed.

And even though my heart was in a million little pieces in my chest, I didn't doubt it couldn't be put back together with these three Clarks sat before me. Madison pulled me in for a hug, then the other two joined in, and for a moment, I was safe.

14 years old...

"Can you remind me that I need to buy a new planner on the weekend? My other one is full."

I pretended to cough in my hand as I teased Alicia, "Nerd."

She rolled her eyes, a smile ghosting her lips, then kicked me gently in the leg. I laughed at her reaction, straightening up against the wall and readjusting the pillow behind me.

We were both hanging out in my room, sat in my bed as we listened to music and just chatted. It was nice to have the house to myself sometimes and I always tried to invite her or Nick around when I could, feeling like I needed to return the favour since we always usually hung out at theirs. Of course, there wasn't much of a choice, but the few times my mum was working, it was nice to host.

Ever since my dad had left, mum's moods and drinking had gotten worse. She was even more neglectful and bitter, the worst I'd ever seen her, so it was much easier when she was out working. Then I no longer had to deal with her. Plus, I could just hang around with Nick and Alicia. Like now.

"I'm kidding, I'll remind you," I promised her. "I was taking the piss, but you're a nerd in a good way, Alicia. You're very smart. I'm almost jealous."

She shrugged, though the compliment clearly had her flustered. "I just like learning."

I smiled at how humble she was being. She was literally the smartest person I knew. "You could beat any person in my grade at any exam," I told her knowingly. "They're all idiots compared to you."

Her cheeks dusted pink as she avoided my eyes. "You shouldn't say that. That includes Nick, y'know."

"Yeah, that only proves my point further," I joked. "Nick isn't the brightest bulb in the box."

She snorted to contain her laughter, then met my gaze. "You're not stupid, Y/N."

I tried not to laugh. "Tell that to my grades. I'm currently getting by on C's."

Her expression softened as she tilted her head. "I can help you, if you want."

"Oh, sure," I said sarcastically. "How would that look? Y/N Y/L/N getting tutored by someone in the grade below." I paused, then added, "Actually, that would be the nicest thing people would say about me. Maybe I should."

She frowned, clearly not amused by my joke. "Don't talk like that."

I swallowed hard, smile fading. "What? I'm not blind, nor deaf, Alicia. I know what people say about me at school. Got a drunk mum who doesn't care and a runaway dad, too good to stay with his shitty family or take his shitty daughter with him. I've heard it all before."

"Y/N..."

I closed my eyes, regretting having let that slipped out so suddenly and so randomly. "Sorry," I said to her, shaking my head regretfully. "I just– I've heard it all before. That's all."

She sighed, before suggesting, "You should still study at ours when you can. You basically live there anyway. And if you're there, I don't mind helping you out. Get some of those C's to B's. Nobody at school has to know."

I smiled a little, finally finding the courage to meet her eyes, and she was already watching me with an encouraging one.

"Thank you, Leashy," I said gratefully. "Maybe I will. If I can find the chance."

It would have been easy to accept her help, but I already constantly overstayed my welcome and definitely didn't need to be a burden to Alicia. I appreciated her offer, but I wasn't dumb enough to accept it.

"Hey, d'you wanna get some ice cream?" she asked suddenly. "I've got some pocket money leftover and the store down the street does a tub for a few dollars."

I smiled at her wanting to share with me. "I'd love that."

She grinned before standing up and holding out her hand, pulling me up with her. I grabbed it, letting her, and tried to ignore the butterflies I felt when I did. It was something I was feeling a lot recently, over the past few months, whenever I was around Alicia. I wasn't sure what it was, but I liked it and I found myself admiring Alicia more and more because of it. I'd always known she was pretty, but now that I was beginning to understand the concept of liking someone... Well, I was certain that I liked her.

And I let myself enjoy it before I could realise it was a bad thing.

15 years old...

I was exhausted to say the least, my shift at work draining any energy I had left. All I'd dreamt of in the last hour was going to bed, not even awake enough to have dinner. But of course, as soon as I got home that evening, I was met with the sight of my mum in the kitchen, fumbling through her purse.

"Good, you're back," she acknowledged my presence, looking up at me. "Do me a favour, hon, and go pick me up some beer."

I wasn't in the mood to deal with her right now, especially not when I could see she was a little tipsy already and it wasn't even six o' clock.

"Mum, I don't think you should have anymore," I said as gently as I could, not wanting to startle her, but she was already scowling at me.

"If I wanted your opinion, I would've asked for it," she said bitterly. "Now go and buy me some damn beer. You don't even know the day I've had."

I sighed inwardly. "I've had a long day, too. I just wanted to go to bed."

"For fuck's sake, Y/N!" she shouted suddenly, making me jump. "You're so fucking useless."

I flinched as she shoved past me harshly and left the house, no doubt for a bar. She wasn't violent, not usually, but sometimes she'd get really pissed off and slap me out of anger. She always apologised and I didn't think she meant it, but I was always on edge when she was in this sort of mood. To my relief though, she was gone and therefore not a problem for now. Even if my heart was beating a little too quickly.

Looking around, I began to frown when I saw the state of the kitchen and living room. She'd messed everything up, leaving takeaway boxes out and plates unwashed, and there was no way she was going to clean up after herself. I couldn't just leave it like that, so I groaned quietly before starting to clean everything up.

I just about finished throwing the rubbish out when the doorbell rang and I paused, wondering if she was back and had forgotten something. When I answered the door, it was Nick and I felt a sense of relief upon seeing him.

"Hey, I saw you heading in," he said with a smile, before letting himself inside.

"Hey," I greeted with a tired smile, before closing the door and following him into the living room-kitchen area. "The place is a bit of a mess, sorry."

"Don't apologise," he assured me, but I still felt the need to because it was always a tip in here.

I picked up the cloth and anti-bacterial spray I was using and continued to wipe the surfaces.

"She at the bar again?" he asked softly, and I could only nod in response.

As he always did when he came over, he began to help me by starting on the washing up, and as always, I tried to stop him.

"Nick, you don't need to–"

"Don't bother," he told me with his usual charming smile. "I'm helping."

I sighed, but smiled gratefully.

"So, how was work?" he asked, making conversation.

"Long," I said truthfully, finishing wiping the surfaces. "I smell of food and I just wanna sleep."

He chuckled. "I bet. What if I say I have something that might help?"

I quirked a brow as I glanced at him, wondering what he was talking about.

"Check my back pocket," he said, shaking his butt.

So, curious, I did and pulled out a rolled up joint to my surprise. Groaning with disapproval, I put it back and stepped back.

"What did I say about doing this shit, Nick?" I complained.

"Oh, c'mon, it won't kill you!"

"That's not the point!" I said, fed up and leaning back against the counter.

He'd been experimenting with drugs a lot recently, was messing about at school and just hanging out with some people I definitely didn't approve of. But I couldn't do much about it because he never listened to me, and I had my own problems to worry about so there wasn't enough time for me to bother him when he just ignored me. Still, I worried and scolded him whenever I could.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry," he said when he saw how frustrated I was getting. "I didn't mean to upset you more."

I rubbed my face tiredly, shaking my head. "It's fine, it's just– I'm worried about you, Nick."

He gave me a warm smile, tilting his head down at me. "I'm good."

I gave him a knowing look as I said, "It starts with the light stuff like this, then it gets worse. Addictive."

"Y/N, I promise I'm fine."

"Alicia isn't blind, y'know," I continued, ignoring him. "She knows."

"Not for certain," he assured me.

I pressed my lips together, avoiding his eyes and suddenly going quiet.

"Right?" he questioned. "She doesn't know?"

The longer he eyed me as he washed up, the more I knew I was going to break.

"Y/N?"

I winced as I admitted, "I'm sorry. She asked me one time recently and I couldn't lie–"

"Dude!"

"I can't lie to her!" I told him apologetically. "Look, she promised she wouldn't tell Madison, but most importantly, Nick, she's worried about you. Just like I am."

He sighed deeply, not speaking for a moment, only the sound of the tap to be heard. Once he finished washing the final plate, he sat it on the rack before turning to face me, also leaning against the counter.

"Please, be careful," I said to him quietly, meeting his reluctant eyes. "We worry because we care, Nick."

He nodded slowly, and I wanted to believe him. For now, it would have to do.

Heading into the living room, we both took a seat on the couch and relaxed into it. Personally, I was appreciating being off my feet after such a long day, and I could have fallen asleep there and then, but I also didn't want to be alone and kick Nick out.

"How's your family doing?" I asked, looking over at him.

He was leaning back into the cushions, eyes closed contently as he answered. "Mum's her usual uptight self."

"Nick," I scolded, slapping his knee.

Opening one eye and looking at me, he said, "I fail to see what you see in her."

"Hmm, well she doesn't get pissed after work every evening, so I suppose I have pretty low standards," I said sarcastically.

His expression softened. "Well then."

"Also, she's been good to me," I added, before giving him a disapproving look.

He shook his head before leaning back again. "Alicia is doing good. Been drooling over some new kid at school. Matt or whatever."

I hummed to show I was listening, but a little frown tugged at my lips. It's not that I never expected her to like someone, but it still made me feel a little jealous, especially ever since I realised I liked her last year.

"Dad is okay," he continued, though he was forcing nonchalance. "Been quieter than usual lately. It's a little annoying, especially when I just– I need him, but mum thinks he'll snap out of it."

"Maybe he's stressed out," I offered, but he only shrugged and I knew it wouldn't make a difference.

Nick had always had a strained relationship with his father, especially as of late. And I didn't have much advice for him considering my own dad didn't deem me a good enough daughter to stay behind for. All I could think to do to comfort him was pull him in for a side hug, squeezing him tight.

"Have you eaten?" he asked after a moment of quiet. "There's some dinner leftover at ours."

"I'm pretty tired if I'm being honest," I told him, "but thank you."

"Hmm. Okay." I knew he was debating whether or not to force me to have something, but thankfully he left it and began to stand up. "I'll leave you to rest, Y/N. You do look a bit tired."

I shoved him as I stood up, too. "Arsehole."

Laughing, he pulled me in for a hug once more. "Night, Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow."

#alycia debnam carey #alicia clark #alicia clark imagine #fear the walking dead #ftwd #alicia clark x reader #alicia clark x you #fear the walking dead imagine #feartwd

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