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pedgito · 5 days ago

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𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader — Series Masterlist (part ii)

summary | The temptation with Joel is unavoidable, one consequential choice leading to several, but with time, you find that healing is easier with someone just as broken as you.

author's note | I DID NOT FORGET THEM I SWEAR. i know the first part was posted in july and i abandoned my baby i'm horrible. BUT, the writing bug is back in full force and this chapter was already halfway done so PLEASE ENJOY. i missed these two dearly.

content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE - this is very loosely stepcest, so if that's not your thing, ignore. that's the only warning i'm giving on that, additional warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel, age gap (20/late 40s), religious trauma, parental trauma, no one's making good choices here, lowkey religion kink?? if you get it, you get. fingering, unprotected piv sex, semi-public sex, mentions of deconstruction, alcohol tw, this is packed with so much stuff i'm sorry

word count —11k

PART ONE, PART THREE (tbd)

The tweed sweater is more grating than the sound of your mother’s voice as you approach the doorstep of the Miller’s home. It’s fucking itchy, scratching at your neck in desperation to strip yourself of your more modest church clothes the moment you crosses the threshold. Your mother seems to notice your fidgeting, swatting at your hand with a look of unmistaken warning.

Cut it out.

Your hand drops to your side, fingers curling into your palm as they dig into the skin. The pain squeezes at your vocal cords, keeping you quiet. Tommy always looks slightly ridiculous when you step out for church on Sundays—starched jeans and perfectly ironed plaid button up to match, paired with an egregious belt buckle and cowboy boots.

The thing was though, he fit in perfectly. And you couldn’t hate Tommy, it was nearly impossible.

Once inside, you’re already beelining for the attic with your shoes slipped off by the door and ready to strip down the layers of clothes to quell the sticky heat that was lingering on your skin. But, there’s a creak to your left and a voice you hadn’t heard since the night before, under…more nefarious pretenses. But, he didn’t know that. You shouldn’t either.

Your eyes can’t meet his own as he rounds the corner, damp hair dripping droplets of water onto his clothed shoulders. He doesn’t speak to you, but he does look you over. There’s a smugness in his expression, amusement at your outfit like he knows. A perfect, modest length appropriate dress with that ugly fucking sweater your mom insisted on you wearing. You hate it, it was smeared all over your face, lips pulled into a tight line as your mother began barraging both of the brothers at once.

“She’ll come with,” You attention focuses back on the conversation halfway through, sneaking a small peak at Joel’s tired features, scratching at his beard with his other hand settled against his hips, so desperately wanting to escape the conversation, “I don’t need her being a nuisance while Joel’s trying to sleep.”

“She lives here,” Tommy points out, “I’m sure she can keep quiet. Do you wanna tag along?”

“No,” you respond with evident distaste, but there was also the creeping worry of being alone with Joel again, unsure how to approach your unfavorable behavior with him, “I’d really rather not, if that’s okay.”

Tommy offers a shrug to your mother, reminiscent of a told you so, before he’s cracking a joke at Joel’s expense, who still hadn’t spoken a word.

“Keep this loner some company anyways, he needs it,” Tommy jests.

“Well, we’ll be out until the evening,” your mother adds, almost like it was a bad thing which wasn’t nearly the case, in fact—it was a heavy weight off your chest, “so call if you need anything and sweetheart, mind your manners.”

“She’ll be alright,” Joel interjects suddenly, “ain’t never caused any problems with me.”

Your mother nods despite her inclination to make a comment or prove a point and after a tense goodbye and a hug that was far too tight, she’s dragging Tommy out the front door again and it shuts with a deafening click as Joel still remained in his previous position, eying the floor for a time before his eye meet your own as yank at the buttons of your sweater and shrug it off your shoulders.

The events over the past few weeks were clawing at your gut, that nervous and fluttering feeling driving you to silence—girl, always testin’ me—it was a constant echo in your head. That, flurried with his grunts and the sight of his hand gripping his cock. And your teasing words were no better, inviting him in and welcoming the temptation.

You had to cut the cord—this wasn’t you. It was wrong, sinful, the shame sitting on your tongue and bitter to swallow. It didn’t matter that it didn’t feel wrong, factually, it was. You would be shamed, frowned upon, rejected by your own mother if she even caught a whiff of your advances toward Joel. But, he’d lied for you when he didn’t have to and that was more confusing than it needed to be.

Joel clears his throat, “I’m gonna head to bed, worked a fifteen hour shift and I’m barely standin’ right now,” Your gaze flicks up as you kneel on the couch, settling into the cushion but leaning yourself slightly over the arm, “you gonna be alright?”

You nod silently and watch as he returns the motion and turns on his heels, the floorboards creaking under the weight and there was no chance like now—say it, just apologize.

“Joel,” you say louder than needed, but it does the trick, “I—you lied for me to my mother, you didn’t have to and I’m…sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I—”

There’s a flickering of guilt across his own face that you’re familiar with, knowing he’s dreamt of you in the exact ways you’ve suggested and while he doesn’t audibly admit it, his thoughts almost project, eyes racking over your chest for a beat to long as they press together under your thin top and peek through the deep cut in your shirt.

“No harm done,” He lies, his eyes noticeable flicking back up toward your gaze and you don’t react, neither does he, “no sense in pissing her off more than she already is with you all the time, right?”

“Right,” you mumble dejectedly, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you settle into the cushion more permanently, “just…thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies assuredly, knowing he’d done you a favor with the expectation that it might absolve him of some of his own guilt about the entire situation—but just as Joel was being disingenuous, he suspected you were too.

Save your own ass and all that.

It didn’t matter and Joel knew it was better to move beyond it entirely.

Except his dreams are invaded with the sight of your tits, pert and perfect as he squeezed them under his grip and he swears he can feel the warmth of your skin, your smell, but the deep slumber quickly pulls him under.

There’s only so much to occupy your day, having made a few snacks for yourself and wandered aimlessly around Joel’s home, even managed a short nap amongst his soft snoring from his cracked bedroom door, occasionally looking around the corner or over your shoulder to find him sleeping deeply. By high noon, you’re restless. It was hot. Wicked summer heat. You decided to change into your swimsuit and head outside, grabbing a towel and a bottle of newly purchased sunscreen.

There’s a few reclining lawn chairs on Joel’s back deck luckily, snagging one as you drag it toward the lawn and into the sun, squinting at the blistering UV as you bring your sunglasses down your face and allow them to make home on the bridge of your nose. The neighbors have their sprinklers going, giving their gardens a much needed drink during the non-stop dry spell that Austin seemed to be under, the spray hits your skin gingerly as you settle into a good spot and take a seat, spreading the sunscreen out sparingly over your arms and legs, resigned to the fact that you wouldn’t be able to reach your back appropriately, but that didn’t matter.

You untied the back of your top, both at your spine and neck and reclined the chair out completely before resting on your stomach, eyes closed to the quiet hum of afternoon summer and kids playing a few houses down, the soft buzz of dragonflies and bees amongst the foliage.

It was the simple luxuries you enjoyed that weren’t possible with your mother hovering around you, but that was why you had so much appreciation for Tommy, keeping her busy beyond her means and knowing that she was happier when occupied with other things—like him, or the possibilities and expectations that would come with their new life when they did find a place together.

You knew you weren’t going with them, but that was another mountain to climb trying to explain to your mother, knowing it wouldn’t bode well and would end in an all out brawl if you dropped it on her now—in due time, you think.

Your tendency to fastrack through missed opportunities and experiences were your own downfall, but the newfound freedom was exhilarating, breathing in deep as you closed your eyes and relaxed, several minutes passing before you heard a creak at the backdoor.

But even then, you don’t move.

You know it’s Joel when the grill lid whines in protest, utensils clinging behind you.

He doesn’t say a word and forces himself to keep his eyes on the dirtied grill as he scrubs it down ignoring your occasional fidgeting and the soft creaks of the reclined chair, his eyes catching the soft skin of your back, the curve of your breasts as press out at your side, squeezed against the towel you were laying on and the strings dangling toward the grass that Joel had neglected for the past couple weeks and he’s only realizing his wandering eyes when his hand slips through the slit in the grill and drops the sponge into the ash, cursing loudly to himself.

“Was I being too loud?”

Joel tosses the sponge to the side and opens the tray to dump out the remaining remnants of ash from their last cookout, walking toward the dumpster near the gate leading to the front yard, no further than a few yards from you as he mumbles a quiet, “No. Wasn’t you.”

Weird. Your brow furrows for a moment before you reaching for the bottle of sunscreen, taking advantage of the extra pair of hands as you offer the bottle to his empty ones, the plastic cap hitting his stomach as you press it against him, hands pressed tight over your swim top to keep your breasts covered, despite how much the material failed to hide.

“Just my back,” you explain, “I can’t reach it. Well—I can, but I’m definitely missing some spots.”

Joel’s fingers curl around the bottle but he doesn’t pull and your fingers haven’t left either, grazing against the denim at his waist and you sigh in subtle frustration.

“Joel, it isn’t a trick,” you promise, “besides, with your hands it’ll take like, two seconds.”

He makes a face at that, halfway between amused and mortified. You shove the bottle deeper against his stomach, insistent as you raise your eyebrows.

“Oh, come on,” You beg, “It’s sunscreen, get over it.”

There it was. The snark you couldn’t hide, like second nature with him. He snatches the bottle with his tongue slipping under his top lip as he snaked it over his teeth and popped the cap with his thumb, flashing a content smile in his direction as you settle back on your stomach, pushing down at the strings of your bottoms slightly to offer the full expanse of your back.

Joel, poor Joel, swallows around the lump in his throat and tries indefinitely to ignore the everlasting bulge that grew in your presence, a side effect of inappropriate thoughts and your sharp tongue. He’s pathetic and he knows it.

He kneels down between your split legs, one knee on the cheap plastic and his other foot planted firmly in the grass as he hovers. It was as close as he could allow himself, a few inches forward and he would have his thigh pressed against your center, the swell of your pussy grinding against his jeans and he wouldn’t be able to resist, pulling at the loose ties and diving into the sweet divine.

You clear your throat, turning your cheek to rest against the back of your palm as you wait with the cold tip of your cross necklace snug between your lips, a self-satisfied smile growing on your face as the warmth of his hand contrasts the cool sunscreen, a broad stripe up your back from tailbone to neck as his fingers fold over your shoulder and drag against the chain before he’s tossing the bottle into the grass to make use of his other hand, spreading the sunscreen out evenly on the full expanse of your back.

A pseudo massage masked in the way his thumbs rub along the center of your skin, fingers rubbing in the sunscreen along your side, just along the curve of your hips before they’re back up at your shoulders and the muscle is being squeezed gently under his grip.

“You’re tense, kid,” Joel notes, pulling away to wipe his cream covered hands on the towel, catching your gaze.

“With a mother like mine, wouldn’t you be?”

Joel pauses briefly, a silent acknowledgment as he stands, vehemently ignoring the way your legs slip together and your ass pushes up into the air slightly as you reposition yourself.

He grimaces at how sticky his hands feel still, reaching for the spout on the siding and gripping the hose in his hand as the water pours out, hot for a moment as it slips out before it rushes out ice cool, wetting his hands generously.

“Can’t stand getting a little messy, can you?” You tease when you hear the water run behind you, lifting up on your forearm to peer at the older man, his face still frozen in a tight grimace but his eyes briefly turning up toward you.

What a little shit.

His thumb slides over the opening on the hose and transforms the flow into a forceful spray as he lifts stream and at the chair you were lounging in, forcing you up in a matter of seconds while Joel rendered you drenched, top forgotten as you slip your arm over your breasts in attempt to retain some decency.

The cause of action only dawns on Joel in the aftermath, watching you sopping wet as you stomp toward him and attempt to yank the hose from his grip, the option for turning the spout off forgotten—it couldn’t be that simple.

Joel quickly extends the main end of the hose from your grip with a tug of a smirk and you huff, hard through your nose as you twist and press your back against his chest as you wrestle for his arm, in a wrestle for the hose his arm finds home against your chest and you gradually fall to your knees, tackled by Joel in a manner that is surprisingly gentle despite your frustration.

But, somehow you end up chest to chest and none of the effort is worth it, even as you turn the house on him and the water soaks his clothes and your chest, hose slapping into the grass as you toss it aside, breath catching as your heart raced from the exertion.

Joel makes the mistake of shifting to move, his knees hiking behind the curve of your ass and pushing his clothed cock against your core, only separated by a couple layers of clothes, his denim against your think bikini tied lazily at your waist and his eyes drag down by pure coincidence as he tries to find his grip against the grassy surface.

There it was—his eyes on your chest, your eyes on him, and his cock hard against your cunt in an unignorable way.

Joel quickly scrambles to his feet with a frustrated clear of his throat, ignoring you like a quick spreading plaque as he left his tasks behind to disappear as quickly as he had resurfaced and you reach blindly for your top, draping it over your chest hastily as you tried and failed to piece together what the hell had just transpired.

It was like a shot of adrenaline in your bloodstream as you sat up, the world spinning in a way that made you woozy—you turned toward the back door, slightly ajar from the force Joel used to shut it, slamming against the frame before it popped back open.

He could deny you all he wanted, but his body couldn’t lie—wondering if he was running off to finish himself like he had the night before, almost daring to chase after him.

But instead, you hide.

Decisive and calculated, you’d wait him out.

Like meek prey, he’d seek you out if the hunger struck.

—

After a swift shower you barricade yourself upstairs, the murmuring voices below lulling you to sleep as you skip dinner—you couldn’t speak to Joel, wouldn’t.

He lies for you, despite knowing that your avoidance of dinner was entirely his own fault.

Sort of.

It was a double-edged sword, both parties responsible.

But, Joel feels the guilt faster, easier, and he drowns it away in a six pack of beers Tommy brings home as he and his brother, and his soon-to-be sister in law enjoyed a quiet dinner, the occasional complaint slipping from your mother’s lips as she ate.

“She wasn’t feeling too good,” Joel fibs, wiping at his mouth with a napkin, crumbling the flimsy material in his fist, “I can bring her a plate up later, after I clean up—”

“Oh, please,” She holds her hand up to interrupt, politely refusing, “we’ll clean up, won’t we?”

Tommy squints, eyeing the table full of dirtied dishes but nods regardless.

Always the yes man. Joel smirks, a flippant chuckle under his breath.

Joel tips back the final bottle of beer and swallows it down, having learned to manage his alcohol well after years of casual drinking that had slowly morphed into a crutch. He gets the buzz, the warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest but otherwise it was undetectable, aside from the hasty decision making to find a reason to bother you after the wrestling match that afternoon.

He quietly piled the food onto a plate, working around the kitchen and squeezing past the other two bodies before he’s yanking at the cord to the attic stairs, your body lunging up at the sound, nearly jumping out of your own skin as the light peeks through and the hard, heavy footsteps follow.

Joel hears the both of them, Tommy and your mother, as they finish up in the kitchen and trail off into their own respective room in the house, pulling at the handle with his unoccupied hand to seal out the creeping light from downstairs. He slides the plate of food on the dresser shoved against the nearest wall before his head is turning toward you, watching as you rubbed at your eyes, faking the grogginess from a deep sleep you never managed to fall into, running both hands through the front of your hair before they’re flattening out against your duvet, wondering which one of you should speak first.

Both hands shoved into his front pockets, he turns to you fully. He’s changed from earlier, denim traded for a soft cloth; sweats, paired with his usual dark washed shirt.

Relaxed. He looks…relaxed. His eyes are undeniably softer, too. His lips rubbing together tight before his tongue slips out to wet them and he’s still standing, waiting—for what, you’re not sure.

“I’ll eat it later,” you appease his lingering presence, taken aback as the words seem to bring him back to life, socked feet soft against the wood floors but the intent is heavy and intimidating, “I will, I promise—“

You weren’t lying, you would.

But, then the bed creaks as he takes a seat and your legs widen to make room for him, the blanket slipping down your thighs and revealing bare legs under a long t-shirt, having changed out of your damp clothes too.

Closer, you can see the flush in his chest. Cheeks warm and hot, you’re sure if you touched him it would be confirmed. Drunk? It didn’t seem likely, but he had definitely been drinking, a deep but quiet sigh coming from his chest before he spoke.

“Don’t apologize,” you began before he could get the words out, “god—don’t, just…”

“I was gonna ask if you’re feelin’ alright,” Joel begins, turning toward you hesitantly, a fist curled and stamped into the mattress, watching the muscle of his bicep and forearm flex with the action, core clenching at the sight of it.

You nod lazily, “How was dinner?”

He knows you’re not asking about the food.

“Typical,” He responds lightly, “your mom loves carryin’ the conversation, doesn’t she?”

“She just enjoys the sound of her own voice.”

Joel chuckles quietly, hand unfurling and his fingers grazing against your knee. For a moment, you think it could be an accident, but as you find a surge of confidence and drag your fingers over his own, pulling his hand up to your face curiously, making a show to smell his hand with a light quip thrown his way.

“Got all the sunscreen off finally,” You joke and the stretched out glimpse of you flashes through Joel’s mind, his fingers pulling at tied strings, the nylon falling against thick blades of grass, “did you enjoy your shower?”

Joel quirks his brow, curious.

Right, he didn’t know. A momentary lapse of judgment letting the words slip.

“You know, was it…peaceful? Nice?”

No additional expletives groaned out under the steady stream, fist wrapped around his cock? Selfishly your eyes wandered toward the no longer tented material, having caught quite the eyeful earlier—and felt it just the same.

His hand slowly drops to the bedsheet, thumb grazing the cream material while the rest of his fingers curl over your knee, your own hand placed atop it, an unspoken but welcomed touch.

He was losing his mind, surely.

He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have sat down.

But, Joel lied for you and that was the first mistake.

“I lied for you, again,” He comes clean, emphasis on his final word as his eye flicks up despite his downturned gaze, watching your thumb rub into the spot between his own and pointer finger, “makin’ habit of it, it seems.”

A soft breath mingles between the space, tight and tense, too intimidated to confront him head on now, shaking your head at his words, “You were the one who said my secret was safe, remember?”

His large hand flexes around yours as he presses the back of your hand into the sheets, held prison under his grip, “You know I never meant it like that—“

“Didn’t you?” You counter, turning your eyes up toward him cautiously, daring him to confess.

Our secret, alright?

It was the gateway—one small lie unfolding into many and soon it would be like breathing, second nature.

“Why are you still here?” There’s a softness in your tone that beckons a confession, but Joel’s hard-headed.

So, he retaliates.

“Why haven’t you asked me to leave?” His eyebrows raise, a subtle smile pulling at his lips that was brought up by the inhibitions of alcohol, mostly Joel but there was something lingering.

The words float through your head, climb up your throat, but you can’t force them to leave your mouth, eyes softening under his gaze as a warm, careful hand caresses up your thigh, fingertips grazing your clothed cunt, the wet heat undeniable as it seeps through your underwear.

You can smell the beer on his breath but it doesn’t stop your hand from clawing up his chest and behind his neck, allowing him to pull your leg over his lap, spread wide on your bed as he fit between them, “You’ve been drinking,” it was obvious, but Joel shakes his head, tongue licking at his bottom lip as his left hand squeezes at your calf, “haven’t you?”

“That bother you?” He wonders—he’s mostly unaffected, you can tell. The creeping flush to his face a mix of the alcohol and you, he’s just as in his right mind as you, the inside of his palm reaching further to cup your cunt, rubbing gently with the heel of his palm.

A breathy sigh and a head shake in return as your legs spread wider, hips canting into his touch as your hand falls to your side, exposing your clothed chest to him, breasts peeking through the sheer fabric of your top while your other hand grips Joel’s neck harder, blunt fingernails digging into the skin.

“What are you doing?” You ask carefully, not wanting to startle him.

It doesn’t even seem to phase him, though. His hand moves forward slightly to push your shirt up your stomach before it slipped beyond the fabric of your underwear and against your bare skin, two fingers sliding between your folds to press into your sticky slick.

“Giving you what you want,” Like it was obvious; the constant taunting, ill-mannered behavior, his own resolve finally breaking and the guilt he was feeling disappearing in an instant now that he has you like this, a clandestine sight, “—s’what you wanted, right?”

You nod, a subtle jerk of your head.

At the notion, his hands are in two different directions—one hand is tracing the chain that wore like armor, a dainty necklace your mother had gifted you when you were young that was the only significance you had to show for with her, your undying faith. He slips the necklace around and between your shoulder blades, out of sight. His other hand slips between your thighs until they’re finding home against your cunt. Absent fingers drifting deeper between your shoulder blades, delicate touches tracing along your spine over soft skin until he’s back at the nape of your neck and squeezing, determined fingers rubbing slowly at your sensitive clit, a stuttered and quiet gasp falling from your lips.

He’s not the first man to touch you like this, but he was skilled. No fumbling hands and hesitant touches, there was surety in his movements and his gaze that didn’t shy from yours in embarrassment or lack of care.

Joel Miller was in the mood to watch you fall apart for his own entertainment.

“Shh,” He reminds you, a soft command, “don’t need them gettin’ curious.”

You shake your head in agreement, a plethora of sins being committed in the act of one greedy and selfish desire, “Mo—More,” You plead, feeling his fingers slide down the center of your cunt before they’re breaching your tight hole and pressing inside. Joel grunts as you pull at his short curls, his tongue resting wanting over his bottom teeth, yearning for a taste.

“Take it off,” He demands, “wanna see those pretty tits, darlin’.”

Your skin prickles with anticipation, separating from him briefly to pull your shirt over your head and Joel, in a moment of blind lust, takes the advantage of you on your back to yank your panties down your ankles and balling them up, thrown haphazardly near the top of your bed as he settles on his knees between your outstretched legs—

God, he’s going to hell.

And you want to kiss him, the feeling so strong it sends an ache down your core, releasing a shaky breath as he squeezes at your thighs before his fingers continue, dipping inside of you with ease. Luckily, with this position, he’s got a free hand to rub at your clit, thumb pressed firmly against the nub and drawing soft, mewling sounds from your lips.

It’s intoxicating, the subtle smell of barley and fresh soap. He’s speaking to you in some far off, distant place, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets an inescapable pace. They’re goading words, encouraging and bordering the line of patronizing but you can’t commit them to memory, only coming as another soft command falls from his lips.

Because he sees your fingers itching, needy, “Touch yourself,” He murmurs, his touch somehow more tender as his fingers pump inside of you, thumb working quick circles of your clit as you hands drag feather-light of your breasts, a tickle at the center of your chest before you’re squeezing the flesh under your grip and moaning louder as he changes the angle of his fingers inside of you, deep and undeniably precise. Thick fingers keep you full and satisfied.

He can hear your breath quickening, a silent warning when your brain wasn’t catching up with the rest of your body, words a complete loss. His fingers slip out of you, wet slick smearing over your mouth as he leans forward to muffle the unintentional cry that falls from your lips as he pulls you over the edge with a mere motion of his thumb, your eyes squeezing shut as you come.

The pleasure blooms inside, teeth digging gently into the skin of his palm as you selfishly savor the feeling, Joel only moving away when your eyes fall back on him—back to reality.

“How’s that for a mess?” Joel doesn’t miss a beat, turning your earlier jab back on you as you notice the gleam on his fingers, thin strings of slick hang between his fingers as he separates them and you pull at his wrist, knowing that Joel would follow through the rest of the way, pressing his fingers to your lips as you clean him, tongue dragging along the digits diligently.

You swear you hear Joel groan, but it was muffled by your own squeak as Joel grabbed at your chin, flesh pinched between his fingers, “Eat your damn dinner,” He demands, but you quickly muffle him with the fabric of your underwear, shoving it into his mouth before you move dangerously close to his face, still under the stern grip of his hand.

“No problem,” You appease him, “and a suggestion—”

Pulling the fabric from his mouth, you aren’t amiss as he pockets it, his eyebrows raising in question.

“Double check your doors next time you decide to jerk off to me.”

Because if anything, you wanted him to be more deliberate.

Joel’s flush deepens, shame flashing in his eyes for a brief moment before you break out into a playful smile as you sing softly, “Goodnight, Joel.”

Joel’s never had a harder time falling asleep, night creeping into dawn before the slumber finally takes him, riddled with a guilt that is indescribable.

–

Breakfast is quiet.

Too quiet.

You pick lazily at the fresh blueberry muffins your mother had baked that morning, watching as Tommy conversed with Joel across the living room, both of them nursing steaming cups of coffee. Your mother notices your trailing gaze, mistaking it for you spacing out as she perks up, speaking from beside you as she pours more orange juice into your empty glass.

“I was thinking we could do something in town today,” She begins, “all of us—Joel, too. Tommy mentioned they’ve got a fair going on downtown—food, music, plenty to keep you interested.”

You slip the blueberry beyond your lips and chomp down, “What’s the occasion? Big news? Don’t tell me your pregnant—”

Your name comes out as a stark warning, the plastic bottle of orange juice crunching under her grip, “That is not—no, I’m not. But, Tommy and I…may have put an offer down on a house, if you’re that curious. We were gonna drive by on the way there and show it to you.”

You shake your head nonchalantly, “Joel was actually going to take me to that cowboy museum a couple towns over—I forgot to ask, but you don’t care, right?”

Joel perks up at the mention of his name, his conversation with Tommy stalling.

“I mean, I’ll be with Joel,” You remind her, “I’ll be safe, won’t I?”

Your head turns over your shoulder, catching Joel’s surprised expression and watching as it slowly morphs into understanding, silently following the path you had so carefully constructed as he approaches the counter at your side, pressing his mug into the counter.

“I shoulda mentioned it,” He lies through his teeth, “slipped my mind, but it’s alright with you?”

She swallows. Tense.

Tommy interjects then and chuckles, clapping a hand over his brother’s shoulder.

“History of cowboys?” He asks, “Oh come on, sweetheart. Let ‘em go, they can always meet up with us after.”

She folds for Tommy, of course. Flashing an apprehensive smile that you knew too well, eyes flitting toward the pair of brother’s with a cynical regard, catching Joel’s tight expression for a brief moment. You had lied, big deal.

It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve done as of late, watching the leisurely swagger of Joel’s walk as he steps toward the coffee pot, offering a sturdy goodbye over his shoulder as the lovebirds make their escape, leaving you both under the thick cloud of unspoken tension.

With disregard, he walks past you and sips noisily at his coffee, taking a seat on the couch with the low hum of the morning news as your sock covered feet pat softly against the floor. Your thigh presses against the arm hanging over the couch as you squeeze by, but you’re stopped by Joel’s foot pressing into the coffee table, blocking your path.

“You make plans for somethin’ I’m unaware of?”

You huff out a soft laugh through your nose before you shove at his foot gently, knocking it to the ground before you’re climbing over his lap, mug screeching against the table as Joel scrambles to place it down, his hands falling against your hips instinctively as you settle over him, tight shorts crawling up your thighs and settling in the crease of your hips.

His touch is intimate—and warm, god his hands were always so warm. Your fingers scratch testingly at his patchy facial hair, a delicate touch that extends to his mused morning hair, untouched and still riddled with sleep. Then he’s inhaling hard as your lips press to his without preamble, his mouth opening in a quiet sigh and your tongue find the opportunity and slips beyond his lips, dragging over his teeth as it swipes against his own tongue and for a few minutes he melts into you, returning the kiss back feverishly.

But, like a fragile tower—the moment snaps and collapses in on itself as Joel shoves you away, a large hand pressed against your collarbone as you yelp at the sudden movement, slightly disappointed as you frown.

“Stop,” he breaths out harsh, his hand fisting in your shirt as he peers up you through a half-lidded gaze, “you—we can’t keep doin’ this, kid.”

“No one’s here,” you murmur, pushing at his hand but it doesn’t budge, so you settle for his thighs, cotton material smooth to the touch as you fingers climb until they can settle near his groin, rubbing your clothed cunt against his hardened cock, a noticeable tent in his pants, “if you worried about getting caught.”

“I know you’re doing this to get back at your mother,” Joel begins, but he never gets the chance to finish.

“And if I was doing this for me?” You counter, “Because I want to? What would you say then?”

There’s a long beat of silence, Joel’s hands pressing into your hips again to keep you still, frozen in place and unable to chase the pleasure you were so desperately after.

“Naive,” He offers, “childish—downright stupid, if you think about it. I’m twice your age and if the other reason wasn’t obvious, well—“

“We’re not blood related,” you argue, “it isn’t nearly the same thing and you know it.”

You lean forward, crowding into his space once more, the ghost of his breath across your lips as he eyes follow, his head leaning back as you move in, hesitant.

“Besides, I think you’ve ruined all other men for me,” You goad, a salacious grin spreading across your face, “your fingers—Joel, they’re—“

At a loss for words, you sigh, hips dropping against his groin pointedly, he grunts and you can see the hard line of his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

“I’m not the one, darlin’. You can’t compare me to them—I’m old, I’ve lived. Don’t think you gotta settle for me.”

Joel has sequestered himself to loneliness—after his separation from his wife, the loss of his daughter, he was content being alone. Living alone. Dying alone.

Drowned out by bad decisions and alcohol, he’s found himself regretting his choices once again, but not for the reasons he had hoped.

He didn’t regret you—his actions with you, but how the repercussions would affect you if your mother found out, his brother. There was no coming back, no explanation that could justify his actions.

But you’re sitting, pouting in his lap as your finger twirls around the string of his sleep pants and he knows that look—more, give me more.

Nothing would satiate that hunger.

“I’m not a virgin, you know,” you add as if it may magically heal things, but the next words out of your mouth have Joel squeezing at the flesh of your hips, words that make his cock pulse under his clothes, “I think you enjoy corrupting me, too. My mom put me on birth control the second she was able, afraid I’d turn out like her.”

Luckily, you hadn’t. She’d never let you live that down.

You press in further, a hand climbing up to press against the column of Joel’s throat, lips sliding against his as you whisper, “Do you wanna ruin me, Joel?”

All you get in response is a growl, deep and intense as he surges forward, kissing you soundly to shut you up.

It was a weight off your chest, a sharp breath as he slips his tongue into your mouth as you part your lips as his fingers pull at the base of your scalp, a sharp sting of pain drowned out by pleasure.

“Upstairs,” he ordered, mouth down your neck hungrily, “in your room, now.”

The heated, dark look in his eyes tells you that you weren’t going alone, his footsteps trailing behind you.

He splits you open with his thighs, already bare underneath him as he’s stripped himself of everything but his pants, sans his underwear he definitely wasn’t wearing, an unreadable expression on his face. Pinched, his brow furrowed as he lingered around you, hands pressing into the mattress but not you, careful that his hands didn’t stray too far again.

“Should I say my morning prayers?” You tease, your pointer finger trailing down the center of his chest, both of your eyes following the digit until it hooks into the waistband of his underwear, “Absolve you of some guilt?”

“It ain’t guilt,” Joel retorts, dark eyes flicking up toward you, “you really think all that prayin’ actually works?”

You shrug, “I dunno what I think anymore—what do you believe in, Joel?”

Joel chuckles lowly, ignoring your hand as it slips beyond the material to touch him, his cock heavy in your hands, feeling the surreality of the moment hit you all at once as his hips keen into the touch, a subtle gesture as his fists settle into the space beside your head.

“Ain’t never believe in nothing,” He responds quieter, “easier that way.”

You hum softly, nodding absently to his response as you force the final piece of clothing down his hips, his eyes never really leaving you—wandering, maybe, but you have his full attention.

“Come on, Joel,” You squander, giving his cock a light squeeze before your hand trails up his chest, fingers forming to the lines of his jaw as your fingers glide over his scruff, “Easier?”

“You’re brainwashed,” He admits, pausing to slip his hand between your bodies and drifting over your cunt before he slips two fingers inside of you without warning, a gasp ripping from your throat but quickly settling as his fingers work inside of you meticulously, dragging with gentle pressure against your walls, “can’t think for yourself without feelin’ guilt, can you?”

He’s making a mockery of the beliefs you’ve been under for years—you get it, you do. But, it seems to strike a nerve when you dig deeper, unsure why, amongst your building pleasure the taunting scripture slips from your lips in an attempt to rile him further.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just—” Your voice wavers as Joel’s attention snaps to your soft words, eyes locked on his unreadable expression, “ and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousn—”

A tight squeeze at the cross around your neck does him in.

A familiar sound slips beyond his lips, a hungry and deep set growl as he breaks from you, manhandling you with force onto your stomach and in an attempt to muffle your antics and silence you, a hand pressed against the back of your neck, face pressed into the soft fluff of your pillow as his voice rumbles behind you.

“Ain’t gonna listen to that shit,” Joel gripes, his free hand binding to your waist as he lifts your hips up, back arched and ass up, breathing out a soft noise of protest as he squeezes at your skin, “—you done?”

You shake your head weakly, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as the full expanse of his hand slides over your cheek, pressing your face deeper into the pillow, his thumb tracing along the corner of your mouth.

“There’s no savin’ yourself from this, sweetheart,” Joel acknowledges, a vague but somehow crystal clear way of checking in, assuring there was consent to follow through—that you wanted this.

“I know,” You mumble around the finger that glides over your lip, a calloused thumb against soft, fleshy lips.

Joel presses inside of you with a low groan, mixed with a tight hiss as you clench around him instinctively, your eyes drifting shut as his cock fits inside your tight walls, both hands drifting to the pillow under your head and gripping tight as he begins a slow, steady snap of his hips in utter silence, forceful exhales coming from his nose as he fucks you from behind, noting the way your lips drift apart when he presses just a little too deep, the skin between your eyes scrunching up at the bridge of your nose.

His thumb presses inside of your mouth, against the inside of your cheek before pressing against your tongue, effectively silencing you, “Go on,” Joel taunts, “keep prayin’.”

Your eyes roll back as the hand gripping your waist travels over your stomach and toward your cunt, his middle finger drifting featherlight over your clit in slow circles, your grip in the weak cloth fabric growing tighter—you make an attempt, unintelligible mumbles around his thick finger, followed by a deep snicker of amusement from the man behind you, inside of you.

“Don’t try and convince me you believe that shit,” Joel tells you, “not when you’re beggin’ me to fuck you like this—’ve never been a saint, either.”

Eventually, your mind goes blank, a welcomed numbness as Joel fucks you into the mattress above a squeak boxspring in a home that didn’t belong to you, in a room that has only been yours for a short time, giving in to a forbidden temptation with a man who’s challenged every belief you’ve ever known.

He notices your attention drifting, removing his hand from your mouth, smearing the saliva over your breasts as he jostles you upright, your back pressed tight against his chest as you move against him lazily, feeling the deep, full snap of his hips as he breathes hot and heavy into your neck.

“Just this time,” He promises you, “no more teasin’, or lying—”

The preaching to you was rich, given his own actions. He must be speaking to himself, committing himself to it aloud. You nod regardless, knowing now that you’ve learned his weakness.

Because, like you, it was the unavoidable temptation.

“Another secret?” You tease, feeling the crest of your orgasm building in your gut as he squeezes at your breast, his soft groans evolving into throaty moans, a boisterous surprise to somehow who’s always so forlorn, an empty house with no reason to hide his deep and selfish need for pleasure, you giggle quietly through the force of your orgasm as you both collapse on the mattress, Joel’s hands barely catching himself to avoid the weight of his body pressing into you as he pulls out of you slowly, the bed creaking underneath the movement.

You feel candescent, shirt barely covering your body as you haphazardly drape it over yourself, watching as Joel pulled his sweatpants back up over his hips, his eyes catching on you in a way you’ve never witnessed, his come literally dripping down your thighs and he senses the shift in your expression, immediate guilt flushing your body and showing in the way your body curls in on itself, avoiding the eye contact he was offering.

He sees it, the way your brain is programmed to feel immediate guilt, shame, and as much as he’d like to think of a way to fix it, he knows that was something you had to work through on your own.

A shower would work for now, though.

Wash away the sin until the inevitable happens.

There is some normalcy that returns to your life as your classes resume, finding that time away from the Miller household was refreshing in a way. Tension with your mother was unavoidable, the wedding on the horizon and the impending truth threatening to come to light—your mother had done an excellent job as sheltering you, brainwashing you, and scaring you into behaving out of fear that you might be stuck down.

It all seemed small and finite now, that craving to break Joel down for your own pleasure, seeing the shell of a man he was now.

And he, of course, couldn’t even follow through with his own promise to himself.

Though, as you return for the short weekends, he doesn’t always seem like…Joel.

He drinks more, itching toward the end of September soon and a couple months back at school and when you aren’t buried in the sheets of your twin bed or locked away in the darkness of his room when you’re both home alone, he reeks of alcohol and silence.

He doesn’t seem angry or upset, but the sadness is like a wave.

It makes it easier to keep your distance, something Joel acts like he wants, but then he’s seeking you out in the dark again, bourbon on his tongue and you return the messy kiss he presses to your lips, trying to silence your own thoughts by occupying yourself with him.

But, he does sense your hesitancy.

“I’ll go,” He speaks into the darkness, a hand cradling your head as he squeezes at the base of your neck, a comforting gesture despite the cloud that shrouded him, “if you want me to.”

You’ve barely seen him all day, both of the brothers overwhelmingly forlorn, but you don’t pry.

“No, no,” You insist, hushed against his mouth as you seek out his eyes, glossed over and hooded, his shoulders twitching when your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, “you just—you seem tired.”

It was a loaded word, one that Joel doesn’t touch or elaborate on. But, he was tired, physically. Taking on more shifts before the holidays approach, begging to keep himself occupied alongside his brother who was stressing for his own reasons. He’d come to you seeking a weird dichotomy of comfort and it made you feel warm inside, but a tinge of warning couldn’t be ignored.

“Just sleep here,” You suggest, “I’ll wake you early, before they’re up.”

Without protest, he nods.

You can’t explain how easily your bodies mold together on the too small mattress, like this was something you’ve done for years, staring up blankly at the ceiling as Joel snored quietly beside you.

–

“Hey, kiddo,” Tommy boasts from the kitchen counter as descend the stairs, making your pass through the fridge before you’re gone for another week, “school treatin’ you alright?”

“It’s fine,” You shrug noncommittally, ripping a banana from its bunch and reaching for the half empty jug of orange juice, pouring half a cup to sate your stomach, “how’s mom?”

Tommy feels the heaviness around the question, tensing as he sips at his coffee, “Stressed over the wedding, all the planning, ya know—“

“Yeah,” It’s lazy and short, but Tommy knows your relationship with her is less than favorable lately, sensing your desire for freedom and answers, truth rather than careful lies your mother has constructed around you for your safety, “uh, can I ask a question, actually?”

Tommy nods, hearing the faint creaking of the floorboard somewhere distant in the house.

“Is…Joel okay?”

Tommy seems surprised, but he masks it quickly.

“Oh, he…usually gets…worse around the anniversary of Sarah’s death,” Your eyes wander, clearly missing crucial information but your eyes drift toward the closed bedroom door that was vehemently off limits, always wondering but never questioning, “shit—we ain’t mentioned her to you?”

You shake your head.

“She died about five years ago, raisin’ her alone had always been tough on Joel but her dying…it’s been hard.”

“His daughter?”

He had a daughter.

I’m old, I’ve lived, the words echoing in your head.

“He…never mentioned her, you’ve never…”

“He won’t,” Tommy tells you, “can’t even bring her up to him most days—I thought I’d mentioned it to you but it must’ve slipped my mind, I’m sorry, kiddo.”

“No, don’t…don’t apologize.” You assure him, taking a sip of the tart juice and peeling slowly at the peel of your banana, “I guess that explains the bottles on the table when I come home every weekend.”

And the alcohol on his breath when he kisses you.

Tommy notes the way you so easily call the house home now, smiling slightly. But, he’s always been aware of his brother’s…problem, not sure how to help or fix the situation without an implosion happening.

In the distance, you can hear your mother calling out for Tommy, his eyes drifting toward the sound.

“Have a good week,” He pressed a gentle kiss at the crown of your head, squeezing at your shoulder before leaning over to speak under his breath, “—you should talk to your mom before you plan on taking that offer, by the way.”

Your attention perks up, his finger drifting toward the envelope hidden under a stack of placemats on the kitchen table before he’s interrupted by another shout from your mother, “I can handle the fallout for you, kiddo. Don’t worry.”

Tommy retreats and eventually, you do too. Snatching the letter up and stowing it away in your bag, you aren’t able read through it until later that night, Joel’s unsaved number lingering on the phone screen in your missed calls.

It was an internship at your dream job in Dallas, a flat rate pay out with six months of lodging covered while you got on your feet—but more importantly it was an escape.

You should be upset at Tommy for prying, opening the letter before you had a chance to peek at it yourself, but he’s sensed the tension for months. He loved your mother, but he cared for you, even in the tumultuous months he’s been around you both.

You were strong, independent, and far better off blossoming on your own without the hard grip of your mother and her undying but fickle faith.

The second call from Joel startles you back to reality, answering with a shaky finger.

“Didn’t say goodbye this morning,” Joel greets, only sounding slightly bitter.

You’re quiet for longer than Joel is comfortable with and he almost speaks again, apologizes, but you cut him off.

“Sorry…my mom, it seemed like she was already on her reign of terror and I didn’t…she’s hard to be around anymore.”

“I’m just messin’ with you, kid,” He replies, letting out a soft huff as he sat down in his worn-in recliner.

“Are they home?”

“Left about an hour ago, they’re movin’ stuff into the house, I guess? I don’t know,” Joel sounds disinterested and you share the sentiment, but then there’s a distinct snap of a bottle cap that you try to ignore.

Joel hears your lips part on the other end, “It’s been a long day,” It was the first time he’s outright acknowledged it, which was a step, but not what you needed.

“Tommy told me,” You blurt in frustration, “about her.”

“Listen, I don’t need you judgin’ me either. I get it enough from Tommy as is—“

“I’m not…I wasn’t,” You respond, confused, “I just, I wish you’d mentioned her, at least. Not that you owe that to me…but—”

Joel clears his throat and the bottle scuffs the table, undrank as he settles back into his seat.

“I got my own baggage, ain’t no sense dragging you into that,” Joel defends, “not with all you have going on.”

“If you can fuck me, you can talk to me too,”

It silences him effectively, “I’m not a child. I’m not your child. I’m an adult—“

“Where is this comin’ from? I’ve never said that—“

“I don’t know,” You sigh in exasperation, “It’s been a long day, Joel. I’m gonna head to bed, okay?”

You don’t wait for his response, hanging up on him with a frustrated finality, mad at yourself and him, reasons unclear—you haven’t prayed in months, but you find the urge as the guilt creeps in, wondering if Joel was the corruptor your mother had always warned you about.

They’ll come at your weakest and test your faith, and if you break, you’re just as feeble as the rest of the world without faith to guide them.

The week drags and you’d much rather be somewhere else, but you find yourself turning the doorknob to the Miller home and a Happy Birthday balloon floating into the open doorway, a contorted look of confusion on your face as your eyes land on the three adults in the living room.

“Are we celebrating early?” You look at your mother, who’s birthday is approaching in a couple weeks, but she’s quickly shaking her head.

“It’s Joel’s birthday, honey.”

“Oh,” Your eyes glide over the three of them until they land on Joel, “Happy Birthday?”

Joel hates the attention, clearly.

The next few hours are spent together at a fancy restaurant Tommy decides to treat everyone too, a nice gesture for his brother’s birthday, but it doesn’t dissipate the underlying frustration.

And Tommy, being a pushover for the sake of allowing his brother to enjoy his birthday, drinks alongside him—four beers down and a couple shots later, dinner finished and skipping dessert, everyone is heading back to the car in silence, though Joel does look considerably lighter in his expression, his normally furrowed brow now relaxed.

Your mother is quick to drag Tommy to their shared room when you’re home, giving you a gentle hug that you haven’t felt in months, strange and unsettling to your psyche. Joel relaxes onto the couch, kicking his boots off toward the edge of the rug before he’s searching around blindly for the remote, thumbing the button to turn on the television.

It illuminates the dim room and you find yourself standing there, unmoving, suddenly feeling completely out of place in a home you’ve grown comfortable in.

“You’re quiet,” Joel notes, not looking at you while he fumbles with his watch, twisting in on his wrist as he places a sock covered foot against the coffee table.

“And you’re drunk,” You retorted, the again unsaid but implied.

“Believe it ‘r not, I can handle myself. I know my limit,” Joel responds, “I’ve been cuttin’ back, I don’t need you tellin’ me what I can handle. You’re young, you wouldn’t understand anyways.”

“Guess so,” You reply lamely, stripping off your shirt down to the thin spaghetti top, the thick September heat seeping inside the Miller home, even as the sun set—and you can feel Joel’s eyes on you before you look at him, eyes lingering longer than they should.

There were often moments where he would fend off your advances, quiet moments at home alone when you would slip into his lap or behind him and he’d let you down easily, but he wasn’t always that strong—a weak man with temptation dangling in his face. He’s always been in the wrong from the beginning, allowing any of this to develop and further.

But, you’re feeling vindictive tonight—upset and angry at yourself, angry at Joel—no, frustrated.

And with Tommy and your mother turned in for the night, absolutely no sign of them resurfacing until morning, nothing was stopping you as Joel’s eyes bored into you and the slow rise and fall of your chest.

He’s always been cautious and safe, never while the house was occupied, only in quiet and enclosed spaces that he could lock the doors—that in the chance you might get caught he could lie or evade and not face the consequences, but even as you grow closer and climb into his lap, he doesn’t stop you.

Your hands grip his hair immediately, yanking his head back as you press your ass into his thighs and bring your lips to his jaw, mouthing against the line of his neck and around, pulling at the collar of his shirt to nip at his chest, nothing but his shallow breaths and the soft hum of the television to fill the air, the solid press of his hard cock against your inner thigh a warning sign.

You could end it here, leave him with the guilt that continued to grow within him.

You could drag him to his room, ride him over his sheets like he desired, a clandestine sight that would have any man on his knees—or so he’s told you.

Or, you seduce him here.

He was already nearly there, reaching for you as he leaned forward when you pulled back, pressing a hand into his chest, “I’m leaving, after the wedding,” Joel pauses, the furrow in his brow returning faintly, “I got an offer for an internship.”

“Well..that’s good, ain’t it?”

His hands squeeze at your sides as they travel and settle there, ignoring the obvious danger that the two could walk out at any moment, focused solely on you. It shouldn’t make you feel good, but it does. You shouldn’t want this, but you craved it.

“No, like—I’m leaving that night. To Dallas.” A long pause follows and Joel waits, watching as you glance down the hall, “I don’t know how to tell her.”

“Do you want to?” Joel asks.

You sigh softly, playing with the hem of his collar, “No, I don’t. Tommy told me he could deal with the fallout, but—”

“Tommy knows?”

You look at him with a tired roll of your eyes and a faint smile, “Yes, he does. He snooped and read the letter—he’s known I’ve wanted this opportunity for a while.”

“I didn’t think you two talked that much,” Joel replies honestly.

“We don’t, not always,” You admit, “not with my mom around—and he told me, about your drinking problem.”

Joel huffs quietly, scratching at his cheek as he looks away.

“I just—this isn’t…like, it isn’t also because of that, right?” You ask, “Does drinking make you feel less guilty about it?”

You know it isn’t the entire reason, but there is some suspicion. Given the constant lingering taste on his lip after the first instance together and the several that followed, a burgeoning problem of his own melding with the dangerous secrets you’ve been trying to keep.

“There’s no guilt,” It was the most confident you’ve heard Joel to be…ever. Not an ounce of hesitation in his tone, “We’re adults, we made a choice. But, I think there is a point where we have to realize this can’t work.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Joel awaits quietly, not giving you a nod but his eyes turn up in wait, his thumbs slipping under the fabric of your shirt to press into warm flesh.

“If they weren’t together—if your brother wasn’t going to be my stepdad, would you have thought twice? If we had met at a bar or something?”

“I don’t know,” Joel answers, unsure.

You sigh deeply, leaning into his eyeline to capture his lips, an unexpected kiss that grabs his attention, his hands climbing higher under your shirt in search of skin.

“I think you do,” You mumble against his mouth, “I also think you were vulnerable and you saw that I was too and you wanted to feel a little less lonely.”

Joel can’t find the words to respond, feeling like you’ve seen straight through him.

“So, let me help a little more,” You soothe his rapidly beating heart with your sultry tone, unbuttoning your jeans with slow movements, only removing yourself from him briefly to strip your jeans and underwear off before you return to his lap.

You wait until he finally got with the program and unbuttoned his own jeans, shifting them just far enough down his thighs that they’re out of the way, grabbing for the blanket draped over the couch to wrap around you and you almost protest, but the concentrated look on his face as returns your gaze short-circuits your thinking, fisting his cock as he slides it between your wet folds, pressing inside of you slowly, your slow breaths mingling together in each other’s mouth.

“Quiet,” He reminds you, “we have to be quiet.”

Easier said than done, you giggle against his lips.

“Says you,” You tease, lifting your hips slowly as he follows the movement, allowing you to lead, your hands pressing into the back of the couch, “I like hearing how bad you want it,”

Joel’s hand dwarfs your mouth as he covers it, eyes narrowing at your pointed choice of words and he snaps his hips into you harshly without warning, forcing out a yelp into his palm as your hands tighten into the cushion, canting your hips as you lift them in time with his thrusts.

He’s got his teeth digging into his bottom lip in an attempt to silence himself, eventually grabbing for your hand and covering his own mouth in desperation, wrapping his free hand around your back and pulling you to his chest, foreheads pressed against each other as you meld together, different emotions swirling as he commits this feeling, and your body, to memory.

Joel feels the familiar, cold touch of your dangle chain necklace, plain silver cross interlocked at the center of it, at this angle it nudges his nose with every thrust, a dainty piece of jewelry that he always took the time to tuck behind your neck—he’s never seen you without it.

He thinks for a moment, considering his action before he’s reaching to tuck it behind your head.

But, your hand stops him, placing it back center before you’re reaching behind to unclasp the necklace from your body, dangling it over the empty cushion beside you.

“It’s okay,” You can sense Joel’s confusion, worry— “I’m starting to figure things out for myself,” It’s intimate, the way you’re talking to him now, voice barely above a whisper as his hips rock gently to keep a slow place, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, “besides…the things I want you to do to me, it’s blasphemy, really.”

Joel snorts at that, finding the sudden burst of energy to snake his hands under your thighs, lifting you up slightly as he scoots himself further down the couch, feet planted flat on the ground and allowing you proper leverage to use his body just the way you desire.

It takes very little time to work him up, a deep growl suppressed behind clenched teeth as your fingers dig into his cheek where your hand is still tight over his mouth, riding him with a clear determination, his eyes softening and pleading—he’s right there and you can see it.

His eyes flutter, hand squeezing and kneading at your thigh in silent prayer.

Rich, you think. Maybe you’ve been worshiping wrong your entire life.

Your climax comes slowly, alongside his. It’s quiet, a long moment of drawn out sighs poured into each other’s skin, his achy groan a light reprieve to the moment as you climb off of him.

“Staying or going?” He asks after you’ve stood, blanket wrapped around your body.

“Depends,” Your finger dangle in front of his face, watching as he works his jeans back up his thighs, belt sitting unbuckled in his lap, “your room or mine?”

Joel nods with a smile, nudging you toward the hall.

–

Joel’s dangling the silver necklace in his hand as you exit the bathroom, hair damp and dressed in only a shirt—his shirt, climbing onto his bed while he approaches with an extended hand.

You take it silently, passing it off to his bedside table without a word.

“So, when do we have the talk?” You ask curiously, ripping the bandaid off immediately.

“Not tonight, if you don’t want to.”

Your brow pinches together as he slips under the blanket beside you, throwing the cover back to beckon you underneath. You oblige, sliding onto your knees to lean against his chest, forearm covering his abdomen as you rest your chin on your arm.

“I was thinking about starting deconstruction therapy,” You admit, scratching a fingernail at the patchy and fading emblem on his shirt, “It’s…silly, I know. But, I think it might help. I’m doubting—well, everything. I just need someone to talk to. A professional, I mean.”

“That really what you want?” Joel asks curiously, his fingers wrapping around your wrist gently, rubbing his thumb into the skin, “It ain’t because of me, is it?”

“I think I’ve been questioning things long before you, or even Tommy. I’m telling you because—I don’t know, I guess I want to hold myself accountable. So I don’t chicken out. Besides, you seem pretty good at keeping secrets.”

Joel shakes his head slightly in amusement, heaving out a long sigh as his eyes turn toward the ceiling, still favoring your touch as he continues to rub slow circles into your skin.

“I…also think you should get some help,” You add gently, “talk to someone about Sarah—doesn’t have to be me. I mean, Tommy is terrified to mention her, and thinks you’ll blow up on him. You’re…you’re an alcoholic, you know that? My mom was too, before she met Tommy.”

Joel keeps quiet, chewing at his bottom lip. It wasn’t a horrible sign, so you continue.

“She hid it really well, you…not so much.”

“So, holdin’ each other accountable then, huh?” Joel inquires, eyebrow raised.

“I can forgive your lapse in judgement when it came to me—the sex is…good,” You pause, considering your words, “really…really fucking good, but I think we’re using it to avoid things.”

“Think you can fix me?” Joel asks, with a tone of honesty in his voice, “Sweetheart, I’ve been broken for a long time.”

“Mend,” You emphasize, “you can heal—so can I. I think we both owe it to ourselves”

His hand engulfed the side of your face, the hot press of his skin against your cheek as you smiled against the touch, watching as he slowly returned the gesture.

“I think we do, sweetheart.”

I’ll try, for you—he thinks silently but doesn’t say. It doesn’t matter that his fatal attraction had turned into something of lasting admiration, because that would never work.

But, for you, he’d try.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #my writing #absolution

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redroomreflections · 7 months ago

Text

Silver Lining

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Natasha dies, Wanda helps reader with raising her baby. They didn't know they would fall in love

W/c: 4.2k

Ellie needs diapers.

It’s a simple text. A message you’re used to these days. It’s straightforward and to the point. Ellie needs diapers. Though there’s no other meaning behind the simple sentence it's a bit unsettling. You stare at the message watching as the text bubble for typing appears. You wait with a finger over your cursor for the sender to say something else. Just as quick as it appeared it leaves your screen.

Are you okay?

You want to send it back. You quickly delete the message and tuck the phone into your pocket. Guess you’ll be going to get diapers. You start the engine of your car, glancing to the bar in front of you, before pulling out of the parking lot. Wanda’s been weird lately. Distant.Cold. a little testy. You have a bit of an inkling of what it could be but your mind won’t let you go there. You’ve just come from a pretty awesome late-night dinner with your coworker, Danny. It’s the second time she’s asked you out and you accepted. It’s about time you hang out with someone other than Ellie these days. Not that Wanda isn’t a good company but You’d be an idiot to say no. Danny is kind, sweet, smart, and so damn sexy. She’s tall, runway model tall, with legs that never seemed to end. Most of all she listened. She’s the only one in the office that understands a bit of what you’ve been through so you go to her for things. It was only a matter of time for your relationship to progress. Right?

You can’t help the deep-seated guilt at leaving Wanda in the dark. She takes care of Ellie as if she’s her own. She helps whenever you need it and despite her own grief and pain, she’s always there for you. This is why you are unsure of her recent behavior. It must be something you did. Maybe she’s not comfortable with you leaving her with Ellie to go on dates? If so you’d be happy to find a babysitter to relieve her. Was she upset that you forgot to put the laundry in the dryer? Did you forget her birthday? No, that can’t be it. Wanda was so gracious and plentiful with her forgiveness. Which is why you are so confused.

The only thing open right now is the 24 hour CVS. Simple enough. You step into the store with a purpose. You find the baby aisle with ease. You’ve been here plenty of times before. The Honest Company brand is the first you spot. You’re not too keen on being loyal to a specific brand but Wanda always insists that it’s really good. You grab a pack of diapers in Ellie’s size and tuck it under your arms. You pull out your phone again to check if Wanda has messaged about anything else. You’re the only one in the store beside the cashier so you’re not in much of a rush. You step around to the second aisle where there are trashy magazines and other assortments of books on display. You grab a crossword puzzle book for you and Wanda to finish together. Maybe then she’ll tell you what’s been on her mind. You make your way to the front where you spot her favorite candy. You’re not intentionally trying to make her feel better, you technically haven’t done anything wrong, and yet you can’t help but feel that you need to make things right with her. You grab the turtle's candy from the shelf and hand it to the cashier. She bags with boredom ready to clock out of work herself. You give her thanks before taking the items and leaving the store.

It doesn’t take long for you to get home. You sit in the driveway with the lights off for a minute. You’re looking up at the house. It’s beautiful. Two-story, brick, a white picket fence. It’s everything you’ve wanted in a home. Everything Natasha wanted. It’s been a little over a year since she’s died. A little longer than that since you’ve seen her face. Ellie never got to meet her. You were eight months pregnant when Natasha and the rest of the team decided to do the mission to reverse what Thanos messed up. Your wife, a natural leader and a true hero sacrificed her own life for the greater good. Natasha was always good. Which is why you resent her so much. In her haste to save the rest of the world she left you with a baby who would never know her name, never know her smile, and never feel her arms around them.

A life you planned together was over before you could start it. You’re here with the house that you chose together and sometimes you can’t make yourself go in. It hurts to see Ellie smile and laugh knowing Natasha would never get to see that. It’s a silhouette in the front window that breaks you from your thoughts. Wanda seems to be cleaning. She hasn’t closed the curtains which you have to remind her to do often. She moved in after you had given birth to Ellie. She was no longer Avenging. She wanted something else for herself. Wanda is your rock and you’re incredibly thankful for everything she does for you and Ellie. Suddenly, as if she senses you’re home, she turns to the window to peer out. She finds you easily and gives you a small wave. You wave back.

You unbuckle your seat belt and grab your items from CVS along with your briefcase. You take slow steps up the walkway. Wanda’s planted new flowers in the garden. They’re beautiful. She opens the front door for you and takes your briefcase just as she does every day.

You plant a kiss on her cheek in hello before stepping over to allow her to close the door. Briefly you think about how domestic the greeting is. She’s your best friend. It’s always been like this.

“Hey,” Wanda greets. She rubs her arms to warm herself. It’s the middle of August. It’s not too warm but Wanda always seems to be freezing. “How was work?”

“Work was work,” You shrug. Wanda lowers her hands to take the diapers. She places them on the front steps. “I need a long vacation. What do you say about taking Ellie to Montana or something?”

“Montana?” Wanda questions. She raises a brow.

“I know there’s nothing there but that’s the point.” You say. You follow her into the kitchen. Wanda rolls up her sleeves to get started on cleaning Ellie’s dishes. She’s sleeping by now with it being way past her bedtime. The eleven-month-old is full of energy. You find yourself missing her whenever you’re away. “How was she today?”

“She was great. She has another tooth coming in so she was a bit fussy before bedtime but a bath and a song fixed all of that.” Wanda scrubs a bottle with care and precision.

“How were you today?”

She pauses to look up at you. “I’m fine.” She drops her head back to the dishes.

“Her first birthday is soon,” Wanda begins another conversation.

“Yes, I can’t believe it,” You smile. “I think we should have a small party. Nothing too flashy. Danny thinks we should do a princess theme. I’ll probably ask her to plan it since she’s good with those things.” There it is. Wanda’s frown appears and she doesn’t try to hide it this time. “Is that not a good idea?” You lean against the counter to wait for her answer.

“No, no, it’s a great idea.” Wanda shakes her head. “I was just thinking that we would plan that together. Danny doesn’t know Ellie. I mean she’s never met her and you’re not dating.” Oh. There it is. She’s upset about you spending time with Danny.

“We can plan it together.” You placate her. “I didn’t think you would want to considering you’re already so generous with your time.”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to.” Wanda sets the last cup aside. “Ellie has been the highlight of my life for a while now. I can’t believe you’d think I wouldn’t want to help with such a milestone.”

“Okay then, we can plan it next week.” Wanda nods.

“I brought these.” You hold up the bag with the crossword puzzle and candy. Wanda eyes it before rolling her eyes.

“I’m going to have cavities because of you.” There’s no real malice in her tone. You grin before shaking the bag.

“Go change and I’ll make us tea.” Wanda takes the bag before waving you off. You plant another kiss on her cheek before running up the stairs to your bedroom. You make a pit stop at Ellie’s bedroom. Her door is cracked and the light from her night light castes the room in a light blue glow. You push it open gently. You tiptoe over to the bed where you take a second to look at her. She’s on her stomach with her hand resting near her face. Her favorite plushie, Boris the monkey, is inches away. You’re sure she fell asleep with it in her arms.

Sometimes you wonder how life with Natasha would be. How different would it be raising Ellie together? If you let yourself think too long you’ll become depressed. Natasha was the love of your life and you’d probably never be over her death. Does one ever get over that? Looking at Ellie, you’re constantly reminded of how much is being missed. You reach down to brush a hand over her head. You lean to press a kiss to her head. She twitches in her sleep before settling again.

You leave the room, closing the door behind you, before making your way to your bedroom. Deciding that a quick shower would feel amazing you step into the bathroom with that purpose. You don’t even bat an eye at Wanda’s towel resting beside yours. You take your time in the shower, allowing all of your stressors to melt away, before stepping out feeling refreshed. Wanda would be ready with the tea by now. You quickly dress and make your way downstairs to meet her in the living room. She’s already tucked under a throw blanket and she’s added a cardigan to her outfit.

“It’s amazing how you’re always so cold,” You say before joining her under the blanket. She adjusts it so that it’s covering both of your legs.

“If you kept the house at a reasonable temperature maybe I wouldn’t be.” She quips. She takes a sip of her tea before setting it on the coffee table. She grabs a pen and the crossword puzzle. She doesn’t hesitate to lean further into you so that you both can see the page. Despite her being cold, her warmth is comforting. She smells amazing. Clean. It sounds weird but it’s Wanda.

“Okay this one is literary lingo,” Wanda begins. She tucks the pen against her bottom lip as she reads across the page. “Two across says an exaggerated statement not to be taken literally.” She glances to you for help before turning back to the page.

“Hyperbole.” You answer. Piece of cake. She scribbles the answer onto the page before going to the next question. This is how much of the night goes until you finish the entire page. Wanda sets the book down in triumph. She picks up the turtle’s package and rips open the paper. She hands you one before biting into one herself. The candy is sticky and tough but delicious.

“Have you been back to the compound recently?” She asks you.

“Not really, I can’t bring myself to.” You shake your head. Going back there would only remind you of Natasha and Vision. She nods her head. She feels that way too. She chews before swallowing thickly.

“I think I want to start volunteering somewhere,” She says and you sit up a bit straighter in interest. Wanda adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing you. “I know I spend a lot of time with Ellie and I love her but I need some adult human interaction.”

“Wanda, if it’s too much please tell me, I can bring her to work with me some days and-”

“No,” She cuts you off. “It’s not that. I just want to do something good. I want to help other orphans maybe. Growing up in Sokovia without parents and then joined Hydra. I know it probably won’t be as dramatic here in America but I want to help them onto the right path. Whether with homework or reading.” Wanda’s hands move excitedly as she speaks. She’s passionate about this and you can’t help but smile seeing her so happy. She notices your look and smiles back. “What?”

“You’re a good person, Wanda Maximoff.” You reply. Her smile widens. It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear.

“Thank you, y/n. I think you’re pretty good too.” She grins cheekily. “So you think I should do it?”

“I think you should. I can get Steve or Peter and MJ to watch Ellie and I’ll come with you some days.” You suggest. NYC is only a train away so you figure it won’t be too bad.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod. Suddenly your arms are full of Wanda as she hugs you in gratitude. You think you're a bit touch-deprived as the feeling of Wanda in your arms is heaven-like.

“You’re the best.” Wanda smiles as she pulls back. “Are you too tired for a show?” She tilts her head towards the tv.

“No, put it on.” You watch as she grabs the remote, settling into your side again, as she finds her favorite episode of BEWITCHED.

**************************

The next few days are weekend days so you and Wanda attend a play date with another mom from the neighborhood. Her son, Tyler, is a month older than Ellie and they’re still a bit young for any real play but it’s more of a social thing. Tyler’s mom, Terry, is serving you and Wanda finger food as she talks about a new committee that’s happening in the neighborhood. They want to plan events for the coming year.

“I know things are hectic but it may be fun,” Terry shrugs as she sits across from you. “Mike probably won’t enjoy it but I’d figure us wives will.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Gives us something to do being stay-at-home moms.” This time she looks to Wanda. You don’t bother to correct her. This wouldn’t be the first time someone mistook you two for a couple since moving here.

Wanda nods, she might be considering the idea. You don’t think it sounds bad either. You’re just about to ask Terry about the type of events when Ellie crawls over to you with a toy block in one of her hands. She uses your knees to stand on her own feet. Her eyes are wide and trusting as she shows off the toy.

“It’s so nice,” You feign interest. You wonder if this is like a parent requirement. To give praise or encouragement to something your child wants to show you.

“Mama!” Ellie pushes the toy into Wanda’s lap. There’s a gasp but you can’t quite tell who it’s from. Wanda looks to you for the next step. “Mama!” Ellie is insistent as she pushes the toy further into Wanda’s lap.

“Go ahead, Mama.” You find your voice. You emphasize the title with a gesture to Ellie. Wanda swallows thickly before nodding. She looks down at Ellie before pulling her into her lap. The slipup was forgotten as she inspects the toy and puts on a voice for the toddler.

“Is this her first time saying it?” Terry asks with a smile noting your reactions.

“It’s the first time she’s directed it towards either of us.” You inform her. It’s true. Ellie has said Mama before in passing but she was never so indicative about whom she was talking to. Seeing her direct it to Wanda was startling but heartwarming. It brings tears to your eyes. Seeing the other woman respond and play with Ellie with such care. Wanda looks over to you with a smile before turning her attention back to Ellie.

Whoa. What was that you’re feeling? Butterflies. You haven't felt those in a while. Suddenly you feel as if you’re suffocating. The room feels smaller and you need space. You stand, excusing yourself from the room, to find a bathroom. You go to the one Terry directs you to. Wanda watches as you leave with a frown. Did something happen? You push the door closed leaning your head against it as you take harsh, breaths.

Wanda. Wanda Maximoff. Your best friend. You’re in love with her. It’s a thought that makes you want to puke. You don’t know how it has happened or when it’s happened but suddenly all of your feelings make sense. How happy you are to see her. Even on your date with Danny, all you could think about was Wanda. Coming home to Wanda. Spending time with Wanda. Kissing Wanda. Making love to her.

You gasp. This can’t be. You shake your head hoping it will rid you of the thoughts. Wanda lost the love of her life. You lost yours. It could be nothing more than what it was. She probably didn’t even feel the same way.

Life is crazy.

The car ride home is ridden in silence. Ellie has fallen asleep after the playdate. You glance at Wanda every few minutes. You don’t realize she’s looking at you too. You park in the driveway, helping her with Ellie’s bag when your hand brushes against hers. You pull away hiding the effect it has on you as you walk into the house. You put Ellie to bed on your own while Wanda does god knows what downstairs. You take your time dressing in a t-shirt and shorts before sitting on the bottom step to tie your shoes.

Wanda steps into the foyer to ask where you’re going. You both only just got home. She didn’t know you had plans to do anything.

“For a run,” This surprises her even further. You don’t like running. You despise it and yet here you are gearing up to run.

“You hate running,” Wanda points out. “In fact, the last time Steve suggested you run you told him you would rather have crows poke your eyes out and eat them for breakfast.”

Damn. You did say that.

“I’m trying something different,” You shrug. You stand to stretch before heading for the front door.

Wanda follows after you. Before you turn the knob she calls out to you.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” You pause and turn back to her.

“Overstep? Why would you think that?” You question her.

“Well, Ellie called me Mama and I know that’s what she would have called Nat. I’m not her mother.” Wanda folds her arms under her chest. A nervous move. “I thought you might be uncomfortable with that.”

“No, Wanda, that’s not it at all,” You assure her. “I’m so happy that Ellie views you as her Mama. There’s no one I would rather have that title. You are her Mama.” Wanda nods with tears in her eyes. Maybe she’s wanted that without really knowing. You find yourself wanting to kiss her tears away. Again. Whoa.

“Okay,” She gives you a small smile. “Have fun on your run.” She tells you and you nod. She watches you exit the front door. You do a few final stretches before you plug your headphones into your ear. Guess it was time to run.

It’s been two hours the next time you walk through the front door. The lights off save for the foyer. You kick off your shoes, rubbing your forehead with your sweaty shirt before you make your way upstairs. Wanda must be asleep. You check on Ellie as you do every night. She’s sound asleep. You hop into the shower and allow yourself to stand under the scalding hot water. You’re going to regret running so much in the morning. Your thoughts are riddled with Wanda as you shower, when you dry off, and when you dress. You can’t stop thinking of her. You don’t know what prompts you to do it but you suddenly find yourself in front of her bedroom door. Her lights are off but you knock anyway. No answer.

You twist the knob to find the door unlocked. You open the door and call her. She’s on her side facing away from the door. Her posture is a bit stiff.

“Wanda?” You question.

“Yeah?” She whispers into the darkness. She turns over just as you climb into the bed. You’re under the covers now and briefly you think about how comfortable her bed is. You can see her through the light emanating from her window. Her cheeks are stained with dry tear tracks. She’s been crying. “Y/n?” She tries to hide the shake in her voice as you look at her. It’s now or never.

Your eyes fly down to her lips then back to her eyes. You lift a hand to caress her cheek as you lean to plant a chaste kiss against her lips. She gasps, quickly recovering, before kissing you back. You pull back keeping your eyes closed. If you open them to her being angry with you, you don’t know if you’ll forgive yourself.

“Y/n,” Wanda asks.

“Wanda,” You whimper.

“Open your eyes, Malysh.” She raises her hand to rub her thumb against your hand still caressing your face. She takes hold of it before lowering it to lie on the covers between you. She never let's go. You open your eyes slowly to find nothing that you were afraid of.

“I wasn’t mad that Ellie called you Mama,” You repeat your sentiment from earlier. “I was confused. Her calling you Mama made me realize a few things.” Wanda listens. “You’ve been here through it all and yet I’ve never seen you for you until now. My selfless, sweet, Wanda.” You don’t know what you’re saying at this point. All you know is you want Wanda to know how much she means to you.

“I feel the same,” She doesn’t need to you say the words. She knows.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize all of this time what was right in front of me,” You frown. “I can’t believe how long I wanted to kiss you and I didn’t see it as anything other than platonic.”

“I realized a couple of weeks ago.” You lift your head to rest on your elbows. “When you went out with Danny for the first time. I couldn’t figure out why I was so angry about it. Then I knew why. I wanted it to be me.”

“Wanda, why didn’t you say something?” You ask. “If I knew I wouldn’t have gone out with her.”

“I didn’t want to stand in the way of you finding love again,” Wanda shrugs.

“I don’t love Danny,”

“But you could,” Wanda points out.

“No, I couldn’t.” You say firmly. “Not when I love you.” It’s the first time you’re verbalizing this. “Don’t be a martyr when it comes to your heart, Wanda. Even with me.” You squeeze her hand. “It took me some time but I want you.”

“How do you know that after only a couple of hours?” She asks.

“It hasn’t been a couple of hours,” You shoot back. “It’s been months. The late nights with Ellie. The dinners we have. Our crossword nights. I enjoy them. I look forward to them. We’ve been spending a life together without us even realizing it. I want more with you. If you want it too.”

Wanda surges forward pushing you onto your back as she kisses you with a passion that has you moaning against her lips. The weight of her on top of you is pure bliss. All you can think, feel, and smell is Wanda. Reluctantly she pulls back to take in a deep breath.

“I want it too.” She doesn’t wait for you to answer as she kisses you again.

Five years later

“Mama, Mama, we got ice cream.” Ellie races across the park with your golden retriever, Max, in tow. She’s hanging onto the leash very loosely as she waves around the popsicles she has in her hand. Wanda looks up from her book to inspect the items as Ellie pushes them into her hands. You’re a few feet behind watching as Wanda interacts with the little girl.

“Do you think the baby likes fudgesicles?” Ellie asks as she drops down on the picnic blanket.

“I don’t know, Kiddo, you have to ask him.” You say as you sit next to Max. You watch with pure adoration as Ellie takes it upon herself to lift Wanda’s shirt to expose her swollen belly. Wanda looks over to you with amusement in her eyes.

“Hi baby brother or sister,” Ellie begins. “Mommy told me to ask you if you like Fudgesicles. I bought some for you.” Ellie waits as if she’s truly expecting an answer. “Baby says yes.” She looks up at Wanda for confirmation. Wanda takes the Fudgesicle with gratitude as she licks into it.

“I think baby made a good choice,” Wanda grins. She runs her free hands over Ellie’s brown ringlets to smooth it down a bit.

“Me too,” Ellie says in between licks.

“I think I made a good choice,” You say and Wanda nods. Her too.

#black reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x y/n

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 11 months ago

Text

Seat Belts Save Lives

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You and your brothers get into a car accident, and Dean blames himself.

“Would you put your seatbelt on?”

You rolled your eyes at Sam’s demand and ignored him.

“You know that’s not safe.”

“Eh, leave her be Sammy,” Dean cut in. “We’ve got a long drive, if she wants to lay out back there let her. She should get some sleep anyway.”

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at Sam as you made yourself comfortable in the back.

“Whatever,” Sam grumbled, reaching for the radio.

“Excuse me?” Dean scoffed as he slapped Sam’s hand away. “You don’t get to change my station, you know the rules, Sammy.”

“They’ve played the same song four times in a row, Dean. I figured you didn’t notice, so I’d give you a hand.”

“I noticed,” Dean said defensively. “I like this song.”

“So did I,” Sam huffed. “But that was before—Dean, watch out! Hey—“

Sam reached over to jerk the steering wheel, but it was too late. The car that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere—on the wrong side of the road—slammed into the side of the Impala. You felt your body leave the seat, your head slamming into the back of Dean’s seat.

And then it all went black.

You awoke to the sound of Dean calling your name. Your head felt heavy, your ears were ringing, and the world seemed fuzzy for a few minutes before your head cleared. Once it did, you wished it didn’t.

Your head was pounding, and slick, sticky red was oozing out of a cut on your leg and your head. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when you craned your neck painfully you saw why. Along with the bleeding cuts, your wrist was twisted at a strange angle, and the Impala’s door was dented in, pinning you down so that you couldn’t even feel your legs, much less move them.

“Y/N.” You could hear the sigh of relief in Sam’s voice, coming from near your head. “Dean, her eyes are open.”

“Ok baby.” Dean’s voice came from down by your feet, on the right side of the car. “I’m gonna lift the door up, and Sammy’s gonna pull you out. I need you to brace yourself, this is gonna hurt.”

“Ok,” you whimpered, your hands beginning to shake.

“Alright, I’ve got her,” Sam told Dean, grabbing hold of you under your arms and preparing to pull you out.

“Alright. One…two…” Dean grunted at three as he lifted the door. The change in pressure sent pain shooting up your legs, and you screamed as Sam pulled you free of the car.

“I know, I know honey.” Sam collapsed in the dirt next to the Impala, hugging you to his chest as you cried. “It’s over.”

The pain refused to subside, and within seconds you gave into the dark that overtook your vision.

…

“She’s unconscious,” Sam said as Dean knelt next to his two younger siblings.

“The ambulance is on the way.”

“Dean, she’s lost a lot of blood.”

“She’ll be fine,” Dean insisted. “She’s gonna be just fine.”

…

“Is she ok? What’s going on in there?”

“She’s still unconscious,” the nurse told Sam. “We’ve finished stitching her wounds, and we’re prepping for a blood transfusion, but her blood type is hard to find.”

“Me, use me,” Dean spoke up. “We have the same type.”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost a lot of blood, too,” The nurse responded. “We can’t risk—“

“I don’t care about the risk!” Dean barked. “Use my blood!”

“I—um…” the nurse seemed unsure how to respond. “Let me talk to the doctor.”

As soon as she was gone, Sam turned to his big brother. “Dean, you shouldn’t—“

“I have to. She could die, do you get that? I have to do this.”

“They can find someone else, I’m sure—“

“You don’t get it, Sam,” Dean sighed.

Sam was angry. “Don’t get it? What could I possibly not get about this, Dean?”

Dean was silent for a long moment before he spoke.

“I told her not to wear her seat belt.”

…

You awoke to an annoying beeping to your right, and a sharp antiseptic smell hanging in the air. You blinked your eyes open, trying to adjust to the too-bright lights. Once you had, you caught sight of Sam sleeping in a chair to your right. You turned to the other side to see Dean sitting at an uncomfortable angle in an even more uncomfortable chair, his head drooping and your hand clutched in his.

When you squeezed his hand, his head popped up.

“Hey baby,” he breathed, a grin splitting his face. “How do you feel?”

“My head hurts.” You were used to ‘sucking it up’ as Sam and Dean did, saying you were fine as long as nothing was broken. But you didn’t have the energy to lie right now; it hurt, and all you wanted was your big brother to baby you and make it feel better.

“I’m sorry.” Dean reached up his free hand and brushed your hair away from your face. “Baby I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said. “That guy came out of nowhere.”

Dean was about to respond, but stopped when Sam started to stir.

“Hey,” Sam grinned when he saw you awake. “You ok?”

“Been better.” You smiled weakly.

“The doc said you two can leave tomorrow,” Sam said.

“The two of us?” Your eyes turned back to Dean. “You’re hurt?”

“He didn’t get hurt that bad in the crash,” Sam interjected before Dean could speak. “But he lost some blood, and then he gave you some. Docs say he needs bed rest.”

“Which is ridiculous,” Dean scoffed. “I’m fine.”

“You gave blood after getting injured? Dean, are you nuts?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you got rare blood.” Dean tried to deflect with a joking smile.

“Dean.” You remained serious.

“Look,” Dean sighed. “You needed blood, I gave you some blood, it’s not a big deal.”

“You can’t just—“

“I don’t want to talk about it, alright?” Dean insisted. “We’re all ok. That’s all that matters. Now get some rest, ok?”

You said nothing, and Dean’s words made you finally realize just how tired you felt.

Sam leaned over and kissed your head before leaning back in his chair, but Dean stayed right next to you, your hand gripped in his. You felt yourself slowly slipping back into sleep, but just before you gave in to your exhaustion, you heard Dean whisper to you—

“I’m sorry. I’m never gonna let anything like this happen again.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

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wisteriaiswriting · 10 months ago

Text

𝕋𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

Words: 1679

𝔻.𝕍𝕒:

She isn’t one for big, fancy dates. So she much prefers staying indoors playing video games.

She’ll drag you along to arcades. Making sure you two have the whole place to yourselves.

Isn’t as romantic as she thinks. It’s always interrupted by her giggling.

No matter how much you spend it won't make a dent in the amount she has. And she’s willing to let you use as much as possible.

She'll likely become tired. So she’ll fall asleep and in turn trapping you in her arms.

***

“Let’s go!”

“Finally, I thought you would never win.” Your celebrating was mixed with her teasing. You two had been playing Mario Kart for hours, with you just now winning a round.

Tempted as you were to play another round, wanting to show her you weren’t as bad as she said. Pausing when you felt a weight on your shoulder, slowly looking over to see Hana.

She had fallen asleep, in turn falling onto your shoulder. Her sleeping quickly turned into cuddles, taking her place on your lap.

Maybe a nap wouldn’t be too bad.

𝔻𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕚𝕤𝕥:

He much prefers the fancier things in life, so no surprise when he takes you to a 5 star restaurant.

He’ll reserve a private room for the both of you, making sure you’re getting the best things you deserve.

Is a real romantic and he knows it too.

Money means absolutely nothing to him when compared to you. He can give you his card to buy anything but there's no way you could make a dent in it.

When his romantic mood strikes it lasts for a while. Pulling you into a walt with him, making sure you're laughing and having fun during it.

***

The night was still young and Akande wasn’t going to waste it. Still in your outfits as he pulled you into his arms, the classical music playing faintly in the background.

It was one he had been practicing since he was a child, ingrained in his memories. And he wanted to make plenty of new ones with you. Pulling you closer as the song finished, letting the next one continue before starting the next dance.

𝕁𝕦𝕟𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟:

She already thinks being around her is good enough so you’ll have to convince her to do something, which would be watching her fight and win.

Gonna be around Junkertown, either in the arena watching her from her throne there or in her actual throne room.

Much less romantic and more flirty. She has no clue about romance, absolutely none.

Technically none so don’t go out of Junkertown, but when inside you won’t need any anyways.

If you’re not a junker she’s taking you for a tour, but if so you’re going right up to her room and throne room.

***

All you could hear is the yelling, shouting and screaming of the Junkers around you. Odessa had won another fight, not that anyone was surprised.

Watching everyone leave, still loudly chattering away. During that time she was making her way back up to the throne, making it clear when he returned.

“How was that?” Her arms opened just to pull you into a hug, picking you up off the ground.

“Another win isn’t new, so predictable!” Suddenly throwing you up into the air, letting you fall into her arms in a bridal carry. A giant smile on her face.

“Let's celebrate!”

𝕄𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕒:

I’m going to be honest here, he can only cook very few foods. He will insist on a cooking date, just supervise him, you’ll need to.

As he’s part of Talon (So are you likely) so the only place you two can safely go to is the base.

Is more on the flirty side rather than romantic, but he can try tone down the flirting but you’ll need to ask him most times.

Normally he wouldn’t care about the price of things, but with you? It doesn’t even pass his mind once.

Even if you two cooked earlier he needs a bit to fill him up, so it’s likely you’ll have to cook again. But if you don’t want to, he'll find someone else for the both of you.

***

He wanted to give you a surprise breakfast in bed, except for the fact both of you were standing in the kitchen. By now he knew your favourite kind so he was quick to start.

“Mauga, what are you doing?”

“Huh?” Brought back to attention, realizing he had stopped cooking and was staring at you. You learnt when the fire alarm was going off. The food had become burnt, not even you wanted to try it.

“Why don’t we order in?”

ℝ𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕣𝕒:

Takes you to a small and simple cafe.

Much prefers to stay at base, but if you want to go somewhere he will take you.

He doesn’t even try cause he has no clue what he’s doing, seeing no use in romance, unless you really want it.

Has plenty of money to spend due to various jobs and resources, and he allows you to spend a lot of it. Will watch what you buy to figure out what you enjoy.

He will return to work but you can stay around if you’d want. Might even let you sit on his lap.

***

He had no idea what you wanted to do, so he ended up on the internet. Looking up ideas that seemed good, ending up on the idea of a cat cafe. You enjoyed cats and food, well he hoped. While he couldn’t understand all these attachments if it made you happy he’d be fine.

The date started simple, while you ordered food he looked around at the cats. There was a range, from calicos to ragdolls. While he looked he didn’t see the cat walking up to you, a plain black cat.

It nudged you, causing your attention to shift.

“Ram, it looks like you!” Holding it up even as it shifted, only getting comfortable. It was a plain black, short haired adult, sporting a purple collar.

“It does.” Maybe he’d look for one similar to you.

ℝ𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕥:

Enjoys walking around a market, able to spend time with you and buy you things.

Also has fun sitting around at home or the base, able to enjoy your hobbies together.

Has quite a bit of experience due to his age, but is aware of how romantic he is.

Accidentally spends a lot of money on you during the walk, as he won’t look at the prices. Isn’t worried though.

Will hold you while you both enjoy a drink, telling you stories about anything he can think of.

***

Dropping the bags onto the floor, letting some items fall onto the floor but neither of you minded. He stretched, hearing his back crack.

“You should’ve let me carry the bags.”

“Nonsense by dear,” He picked you up, letting you sit on his shoulder, “You need to relax!” Grabbing himself a beer and your favourite drink before sitting down, dropping you onto his lap.

“Now, did I ever tell you about the crusaders?”

ℝ𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕙𝕠𝕘:

He’ll take you for a motorbike ride around the outback, won’t go scavenging unless you really want to.

Most times you’d be staying at his and Junkrats makeshift base.

Has little experience, due to being isolated from others.

Due to being a junker he doesn’t have a lot of money, also meaning neither of you need any.

He’ll take you both back to base, wanting to spend time with each other.

***

The sun was beating down on the land, and on you if Mako wasn’t in the way. Instead you were covered in his shadow, slightly cooler and safer from the heat. With the goggles protecting your eyes from any stray sand or dirt.

While you were looking around this gave Mako the chance to look at you. Taking in all your features. The way the sun revealed everything, everything that he loved about you.

𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕞𝕒:

He’ll cook you both a nice dinner to enjoy away from the others.

He won’t be able to leave the Talon base so thanks to Sombra you’ll be away and inaccessible to others.

As much as he tries he’s always flustered, sometimes laughing in between words.

Due to being at the Talon base neither of you will need any money.

He just wants to hold you close, cuddling while reading some of his favourite books.

***

You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you off of your feet so you hung above the ground. Looking behind to see Sigma looking down at you, a hung smile on his face.

“There you are Starlight!” Moving you around so you lay in his arms, floating over to a chair. “How about I read us a story?”

Asking as he pulled a book from one of his many shelves.

ℤ𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕒:

Her first thought would be a gym date, but she knows not everyone would like it. So she goes for a nice and cozy lunch date instead.

She takes you to a small, less popular cafe that she goes to often. It's kinda small yet cozy place.

Unluckily she has no experience, being focused on other things. But she still tries, constantly looking to improve.

Normally won't spend a lot but for you she’ll go over her normal amount, you’ll be able to get most items you want.

Will pull you around to look around the town, stopping by the nearest ice cream of gelato place. Treating you to a flavour of your choice.

***

Before she even knocked at the door you knew she had arrived, her nervous pacing outside wasn’t the quietest. With fast paced and surprisingly light knocks. Stepping away when you opened the door.

There she stood, a button up shirt and simple black pants. A bouquet of your favourite flowers were held in her hand, reaching for you to take them.

“Dear, you look amazing!” While speaking her voice cracked lightly, face covered in blush. Hold out her arm for you to take. “Ready for today?”

#overwatch x male reader #overwatch x reader #dva x reader #doomfist x reader #junkerqueen x reader #mauga x reader #ramattra x reader #reinhardt x reader #roadhog x reader #sigma x reader #zarya x reader #wisteria♥

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cinnbar-bun · 9 months ago

Text

One Piece Characters w/ an S/O who celebrates Ramadan

Characters: Luffy, Sanji, Crocodile, Robin

Rating: SFW

Notes: Muslim!GN!Reader. So yeah, obvy talking about religious beliefs and practices- if those make you uncomfortable please feel free to skip <3

A/n: this is for me and the three other Muslim OP fans here just vibing 😂 cultural notes at the bottom in case you didn't know/just curious about some of the terms here.

Luffy

Absolutely does not get it, I think he has a heart attack hearing the words “no food or water” and does not listen to anything else after.

“WHY CANT WE EAAAAT??? WHAT????”

Blows his mind you would do this… he’s trying his best, poor guy <3

I GOTTA STRESS HE IS TRYING- HE WANTS TO DO THIS WITH YOU

But you know, he’s Luffy, so that means after an hour or two he gives up and just raids the kitchen.

Task failed but you know he’ll always stay up late for iftar and wake up early for suhur.

Sanji

He at first thought you were trying to- god forbid- starve yourself or diet and nearly screamed.

When you explain the reasoning, he’s touched and wants to support you! So that means he’s absolutely doing everything he can to make sure you’re hydrated and getting all the nutrients you can get whenever you can.

He makes you a completely separate dish from the others while you’re working or resting (so your food is fresh and ready when you break your fast!).

Self-indulgent thought he’s so so so on top of things when it comes to your meals in general, he will never put wine or meat in your meals, and he makes to sure clean the area and use separate pans for when he cooks your meals. Absolutely refuses to give you anything that goes against your beliefs (I need him in my life).

Please, he’s buying you dates and getting up with you to make sure you’re drinking plenty of water and eating right. Sleep schedule be damned, he’s not messing around with your health!!!!

Crocodile

Now, he’s one of the few who actually knows what Ramadan is- he’s made Alabasta his “home” for a while and has participated in many celebrations or events to keep up appearances.

He kinda just humors you at first like “yeah, yeah, go be spiritual or whatever” and chuckles at you with that sexy voice of his.

But he sees how dedicated you are, maybe sees you reading or praying and okay… his heart kinda melts. He’s never really believed in such things, not finding it useful for him, but seeing you just kinda makes him curious.

Easily can fast alongside you, he just doesn’t make a big deal of it and insists that it’s simply due to him ‘not feeling hungry’ or ‘finding it boring to eat alone’ (sure, sure you big tsun).

Makes sure your chefs are giving you only the best and freshest foods possible- he’s especially harsh about the food when it comes to Ramadan.

I’m trying so hard not to inject my MENA!Croc addled brain into this piece so so hard I AM TRYING OKAY GUYS

But can you imagine him going to the mosque with you or listening to you discuss or read the Quran and he’s just playing it cool but his eyes are so drawn to you and he wonders if you’re an angel and that he really, really does not deserve someone like you because he’s done so many bad things and wheeeeeeze-

Robin

She’s an elegant and refined woman, one who will 100% want to be involved in your traditions.

She finds your beliefs fascinating and takes it upon herself to join you in your Ramadan.

It took her a bit of getting used to, but after a few days, it quickly grew on her.

Robin likes having tea with you during suhur, alongside a few fresh fruits Sanji had gotten. Light meals are best for her and she prefers to enjoy your company and take it easy before the dawn.

She likes to keep track of the days and times of when you two begin and break your fasts- she’ll make sure to keep note of the Shawwal moon so you two (and the rest of the crew) can celebrate the Eid together!

Since it’s a time of reflection, Robin decides to sit quietly and talk about her feelings and experiences with you. She did have some reservations and guilt that she was too “demonic” to celebrate this with you, but through your encouragement, she felt better and continued it alongside you.

Oh, she loves getting the henna done, too. She makes sure to have lots of flowers on her arms and is in love with the patterns.

Cultural Notes:

Ramadan is the 9th month of the Islamic calendar, which is based on the lunar cycle- hence why you’ll often see debates on when Ramadan starts/ends or why it begins about a week or two earlier than before, since the lunar calendar is shorter than the solar calendar (or Gregorian, the one we normally use).

Muslims fast for a month from dawn until sunset (there are restrictions of course) so no water or food from that time.

Sahur/Suhur/Suhoor: the meal you eat before the dawn comes.

Iftar: the meal you eat to break your fast at sunset.

Shawwal is the 10th month of the Islamic calendar, so Ramadan ends when you see the Shawwal moon that starts a new month.

Eid: the big celebration that marks the end of Ramadan. Usually you go do a special prayer or have a big gathering with your family and enjoy yourselves.

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #reader insert #sir crocodile #one piece hcs #crocodile x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #nico robin x reader #robin x reader #nico robin #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #muslim reader #op x muslim reader #muslim reader hcs

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zweiginator · 4 months ago

Note

I had a thought about professor!patrick

(I’ve never sent in a request before or even an idea so I pray this is articulate)

What if he finds himself attracted to a really dedicated student. She’s put her all into college and has a drive and ambition he hasn’t seen in years. He tries to screw with her by giving her a B but instead of running to him crying like he’d assumed she has a collected conversation with him about how she know he’s just trying to get in her pants and he’s shocked at how easily she called him out on his bullshit. She leaves telling him to grow up and stop trying to go after vulnerable young women or she’ll report him (not knowing that Head of the Department Tashi was one of those women.) he’s undeterred, of course, and just wants her more. But instead she switches to a different class and avoids him everytime she sees him one campus.

This is where I struggle continuing the idea- what if to blow off steam and forget about the whole thing she goes to a college bar. She meets someone a little older but he’s nice and seems like a total munch. So they head back to his house and hook up and oops- it’s literally the new professor she just transferred to so she wouldn’t be in this exact situation. Professor Art Donaldson.

IDK I just feel like this would be such a messy and fun situation but this idea in my head will no go further past Art and I’m curious how you think this could go.

cw: scumbag patrick??? perhaps

the rumors about dr. zweig are like a game of telephone; they're plentiful, but they get skewed along the way. at some point, the gossip muttered into students' ears was a true statement. but then everything got so convoluted and nobody is seriously going to believe that professor patrick zweig is secretly a porn star. i mean, jesus. so it has the same effect as crying wolf. patrick has had scandals. he has had many missteps in his career due to his own inability to control himself and his urges. but all the tall tales about him are so ubiquitous that it belittles the credibility of each and every story.

but it seems like each year, patrick lusts over a student of his. that's the most widely believed rumor. each year, a bright young little thing piques his interest. causes a tent in his pants. and each year, he'll try to find away to lure her in. maybe through requesting a meeting during office hours, maybe by riling her up so much during a class discussion that she inevitably snaps, and he needs to see her directly after class for a chat.

you had never heard first-hand accounts from any of these alleged girls. but by the way dr. zweig's eyes lingers on the cleavage of girls who bend over to pick up a dropped pen, or up their skirts on a particularly windy walk to the political science building--it kind of adds up.

and as the professor's TA returns your graded essay at the beginning of class, a big red B circled at the top, along with a see me after class scrawled beneath--you wonder if you're next.

now, it's not necessarily a bad thing. there was never any talk about a lack of consent. it was truly just an issue of power imbalance. of him sniffing out pretty young girls with daddy or authority issues and reeling them in with his masculinity, his green eyes and strong arms.

after class, you go to his office. and he urges you to sit in the chestnut leather chair across from his own. but you shake your head and pull your essay from your bag.

"a B?" you ask. a simple question; you needn't say more. you have never gotten anything below a perfect score in this class. it didn't make sense.

"it seems that's the grade i've given you." he's curt with you. maybe because he thinks you'll beg for him to be nice to you. you'll beg for him to affirm your intelligence. you'll beg to do anything, anything to get your grade changed.

"i'm just wondering why." you shrug. "and i'm also wondering why i needed to come here to see you."

patrick again is insistent on you sitting down. you finally do.

"because your quality of work has decreased to a B level." a swallow. a straightening of a stack of papers. "is everything alright? are you struggling?"

how fucking dare he.

"no. im fine. in fact, i would say i grasped these topics more than any other section of the course."

patrick takes his glasses off and rubs the bridge of his nose. "it's possible you were too cocky about it. that you didn't delve as deeply as you should've and that rendered your understanding of the information as largely inadequate."

"even coming from a perfectionist like me," you start. "a B is not 'largely inadequate'.

"i think for you it is."

you stand up. frankly, he's being disrespectful.

"listen," you adjust your bag on your shoulder. "i know the game you're playing. we've all heard the rumors. i know that i'm an A student and that this--" you wave the paper. "is A-level work."

"i don't follow."

so he's acting stupid.

you lean forward. there he goes again with the wandering eyes.

"i know this is your schtick. to get girls to sit on your lap and beg for better grades or extensions or whatever it is they want from you. and i know it usually is easy for you to get whatever you want. but i'm insulted that you think of your best student as a means to get laid--and i'd tread lightly. i can easily go to the head of the department, or the dean."

patrick furrows his brows. "i have no idea what you're referencing." he clicks his pen. "and you're smart. you know you can't go to them without proof. and from what you're telling me about these 'rumors'"--he uses air quotations. "they are all based in speculation. and they are just that--rumors."

you slam the door.

and you do go to the head of the department. not to report professor zweig, but to request a class change. you tell her that it would work better for your schedule to be in an earlier section.

she emails you back quickly.

I can switch you to a 9:00 AM lecture on Mondays and Wednesdays. We have a new professor of political science starting this coming Monday.

Best,

Tashi Duncan-Donaldson, PhD

you smile at the response.

and that night, in an attempt to cool off from the day's abnormal events, as well as the immense stress of midterms--you go out.

you go alone, which is unlike you. you also go to a bar further from campus. you're more interested in keeping yourself company. maybe flirting with no strings attached.

and maybe patrick was wrong to assume you would fuck him--but he wasn't wrong about his belief that you're attracted to older men.

and as you stir your cocktail, a broad-shouldered man with kind eyes and salt and pepper blond hair sits next to you. he smells like peppermint gum and whisky.

"a pretty young girl sitting all by herself? everything okay?"

you roll your eyes playfully.

"real original."

"well--the second part of my question still stands." he tilts his head back to finish his drink. the ice clinks against the glass and you notice he has no wedding band.

"i'm alright. just needed to be alone and decompress."

the man puts his hands up. "hey--I can leave you alone if you want."

you shake your head. "we can be alone together."

"sure we can." his eyes flicker to your lips. you notice how strong his arms look. his posture is perfect. he's soft-spoken but confident. and he's so fucking hot.

"i'm art by the way." he extends his hand and you shake it, but neither of you pull away.

and it's easy to sit in silence. to break it only once every few minutes to say whatever's on your mind. he's a good listener; he tilts his head and nods and makes piercing eye contact--the kind that makes you coy.

you down a few more drinks and so does he. you start to talk more, and you move closer and closer to each other. you're in a booth in the back corner, so nobody can quite see--not that anyone's looking.

so it doesn't faze either of you when you end up on art's lap and he's feeling you up like he's a fucking teenager again. his rough fingers roll your nipples and he's never heard prettier moans. he tells you that against your ear.

you pull him into you. your tongue is more forceful than you thought possible as you push it into his mouth. but his is stronger, and he licks inside you. he's sloppy and drunk and desperate and your hands fumble with his belt.

the bathroom. he gestures to the door and you follow him.

and he doesn't fuck you. not the traditional way, at least. but he pulls your legs over his broad shoulders and he eats your pussy until his hair is ruined by how hard you tug on it. until your lips are bitten and his are soaked in your cum. his fingers are too and he pushes them into his mouth and then into yours.

you yank him forward by his belt. it's his turn. but he shakes his head and points to his watch. it's nearly one, and he has to go. on a thin paper towel, he scribbles his number.

"for next time."

and you think about him a lot that weekend. you don't know the correct etiquette to text or call him, so you don't. not yet. but you program his name into your phone. art. you don't know his last name.

on monday you're still thinking of him as you sit in the front row of your political science class. you want to make a good first impression on your professor. it's 9:02 and you tap your foot against the ground because they're late.

and then the doors swing open and a blur with a briefcase strides over to the grand desk at the front of the room.

"sorry everyone--i'm frazzled. it's my first day as you all know--" he writes his name in messy letters on the chalkboard.

he smiles at the class. it falters when he sees you.

it's bad enough that you hooked up with your professor. it's worse when you read the name on the board.

Dr. Art Donaldson.

#ask #challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #professor!patrick #professor!art

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bakuliwrites · 2 years ago

Text

MC Falling Asleep on M6's Lap (Baewatch)

It's been a hot minute since I posted anything and, unfortunately, I don't have the brain power to do any new content. But I figured I would post a headcanon from my old blog. Someone had requested this a long time ago and I loved writing it. The idea was so cute! I love the Baewatch tale and the bonfire scene at the end is so fun. So, here you go! Also, updated my banners just to try out something new :)

Asra is more than prepared for you to fall asleep on his lap. In fact, he can sense your exhaustion before even you can. He gives you a knowing smirk at your first yawn, leans back where he’s seated in the sand, and offers up his lap for you to lay your head in.

“I’m not sleepy,” you insist, crossing your arms indignantly. But his lap looks pretty inviting. Within minutes, you’re conked out, head cradled by Asra’s legs. He tenderly runs his fingers through your hair, smiling softly down at your slumbering form.

When it’s time to leave, he gently rouses you from your sleep. “MC,” he whispers, carefully shifting you in his lap, “It’s time to go.” Groggily, you rise. Hand in hand, you and Asra walk the length of the beach, back to your room, where you get some much needed rest, snuggled up in his arms <3

You’re already resting your head on Nadia’s lap when you feel the first twinge of exhaustion. Your eyes start to droop, though you try desperately to keep them open. You want to watch Julian’s magical fire display, but you’re just so tired.

Nadia discovers you’re asleep when she looks down to see if you’re enjoying yourself. She smiles to herself, moving a strand of your hair aside that’s fallen in front of your eyes. She thinks you look positively adorable. So adorable, in fact, she feels suddenly compelled to pinch your cheeks (but refrains, not wanting to rudely awaken you).

When it’s time to go, Nadia lays a soft kiss on your forehead and whispers your name. She guides you back to your room, holding you close and keeping you warm in the chilly night air. She makes sure you have everything you need before snuggling up beside you in bed<3

You’re dazzled by the multicolored lights flashing before your eyes, changing with each powder Julian tosses into the fire. There’s so much joy floating around the campfire, you find yourself feeling utterly relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that you lay your head down in Julian’s lap and pass out.

Julian’s too busy showing off his magical powders to notice you’ve fallen asleep, at first. But when he finally does take notice, he makes sure to quiet down. He rubs small circles on your back, gazing thoughtfully down at your peaceful face. He’s glad to see you so restful.

When it’s time to go, he doesn’t bother to try waking you. Instead, he carefully lifts you into his arms and carries you back to your room. He’s so very gentle when he tucks you in, stealthily sliding into bed beside you and cuddling you close <3

Portia practically pulls you into her lap when she notices you yawning. With a wink, she promises she’ll wake you up if anything crazy exciting happens. You smile up at her before falling asleep to the comforting sensation of her combing her fingers through your hair.

You’re knocked out for the remainder of the bonfire. Portia makes mental notes of all the things you’re missing, ready to regale you with all of the nonsense that occurred while you slept. She marvels over the fact that you could sleep through Lucio’s racket (though she did see your face twist in what could’ve been annoyance when he was being particularly loud). She was quick to quiet him down, shooting him a dirty look.

When it’s time to leave, Portia leans in to whisper in your ear, “Come on, cuddle bug. It’s time to go.” She giggles as your eyes flutter open and you flash a quizzical look her way. She’s never called you “cuddle bug” before and you’re not sure how you feel about it. You can’t help but laugh a little as she guides you back to the room, ready to settle in for the night with you <3

Muriel has been silent, as usual, the whole of the night. But you’ve caught him smiling a few times. He seems a bit mesmerized by the changing colors of the fire. Seeing him relaxed makes you feel even more relaxed than you already were. You lay your head down in Muriel’s lap, which startles him at first, and decide to close your eyes for a minute.

Well, a minute becomes a while. You’re lulled to sleep by Muriel’s warmth, the crackle of the fire, and the gentle rush of the waves. Muriel is rigid when he discovers you’ve fallen asleep on him. He doesn’t move a muscle the entire rest of the night, terrified to wake you up. In fact, he barely breathes in fear of rousing you (something you’ll laugh about later).

When it’s time to go, he awkwardly lifts you from the ground, cradling you gently in his arms. You wake up on the walk back to your room, but he keeps you snuggled up in his embrace. When you reach home, you fall asleep again, wrapped up in his arms <3

In the brief moment that night when Lucio is actually sitting still, you manage to lay your head in his lap. “Don’t you go falling asleep on me, MC!” he teases, catching you yawning, “The night is young, yet!” You roll your eyes at him, settling further in. Secretly, he’s happy you’re cuddling up with him.

Despite Lucio’s hullabaloo, you manage to fall asleep. When he looks down to ask if you want anything else to eat or drink, he notices you’re passed out in his lap. A lot of things go through his mind, all at once. He has half a mind to draw a moustache on you, smiling devilishly at the thought. But he’s also just really delighted that you’re relaxed enough with him to fall asleep.

He lets you rest (though he’s not very good at keeping quiet for you and, in his excitement over the bonfire, he definitely bonks you in the head a couple times with his knee which is followed up by profuse apologies, smooches, and hushes for you to go back to sleep). When it’s time to go, he shakes you awake (a bit unceremoniously), but makes up for it when you return to your room by tucking you into bed and cuddling up beside you <3

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forever-rogue · 2 years ago

Note

Joel and Reader finding an abandoned baby and Joel is conflicted, part of him wants to give it to someone else, but the other part wants to raise it with reader

AN | Okay, but I really liked this concept!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were trekking through the woods, a tense silence between the two of you. You’d just had an argument which left neither of you feeling particularly good about what had been said. You wanted to try and settle down for a while, especially now that you had Ellie with the two of you and there was a good opportunity for you in Jackson; he was reluctant to get too comfortable in any one place. You didn’t blame him - it wasn’t easy for you either but you were willing to try.

You weren’t quite sure what to say now. All you knew was that you hated the idea that he was at you.

“Joel-”

“Shh,” he held up his arm in front of you, causing both of you to stop apparently. He held a finger to his lips as he looked around, eyes narrowed, “listen.”

You raised an eyebrow before trying to tune into what he was hearing. For a man with some hearing issues, he heard a lot more than you'd expect. Once you stilled, you heard the odd sound. Was that…crying?

"Joel?" you whispered, reaching for his wrist, "what is that?"

"I don't know," he didn't look at you but started walking to the source of the sound. His gun was at the ready as you fell into the step behind him.

He didn't stop until he was at the edge of the bushes near the clearing that had been up ahead. You swallowed thickly as he pushed through the brush, stopping as soon as he stepped into the clearing. You heard him inhale sharply as you almost tumbled after him. He easily wrapped an arm around your waist to help you up right.

He was staring at something on the ground and you followed his line of sight. You gasped just as he had as you saw the source of the sound.

A baby.

"What the…" you trailed off as you pushed past Joel to get a better look at the small pastel pink bundle.

While the poor thing was bundled up, you could see that it was a young baby, probably no more than a month or so old. Your instinct was to reach for it and pick it up, to shield it from the chill; at least it wasn't the dead of winter anymore so you had some hope that the baby would be okay.

"Stop," Joel reached out and grabbed your wrist, causing you to glare at him, "don't touch it."

"It's a baby, Joel," you snapped, "it's probably cold and hungry - someone clearly just left them there."

"It could be a set up or what if…" his mouth fell into a hard line as he shook his head. You pulled your hand out of his touch and picked up the baby, much to his chagrin.

"I'm not going to leave a baby out here," you hissed at him, clutching the small bundle to your chest, "whatever the reason they were left doesn't matter right now. And they're not infected - stop going to doomsday immediately."

"Look it over," his voice was gruff as you rolled your eyes at him. Fine. You were willing to give him that much.

You sank onto your knees as you unwrapped the bundle and looked over the baby - a little girl. She was dressed in a thin onesie that you undid so you could check her over. She had big brown eyes and wisps of hair and chubby little cheeks, "she's okay. Just cold and hungry."

“You’re not seriously thinking about taking her back with us?” his eyes hardened as you looked at him in shock. You weren’t expecting him to welcome her with open arms, but you’d expected a little more compassion. This was Joel after all; he was rough around the edges but gentle and tender hearted.

“I’m not leaving her behind,” you insisted, trying to remain as firm as you could, “no one gets left behind. That includes this innocent baby - she’ll die out here. We both know that.”

“What if someone comes back to look for her?” you both knew that was extremely unlikely, “what if they follow us?”

“Then they can come and find us and explain why they abandoned her in the first place,” you unzipped your jacket and put her inside to get her warm, zipping it just up enough so she wouldn’t be squeezed, “I’m not leaving her. That’s not negotiable. That’s not who we are, Joel.”

“Fine,” he held up his hands in mock surrender before taking a step back, “when this all turns to shit, don’t come running to me.”

“Joel.”

“Let’s get back,” he turned around without giving you another glance, “we’re already late.”

You were rooted in place as you watched him go, trying to fight back the tears that were pearling up. The baby cooed at you softly, looking at you with curious eyes which caused your heart to melt.

“It’ll be okay,” you whispered to her, “we’ll figure it all out.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You didn’t see much of Joel for the next couple of weeks. Which, to be quite honest, hurt a lot. You weren’t sure exactly what to call him; boyfriend felt too trivial and partner felt not enough. He was everything to you…so it cut like a knife when he made it a point to avoid you. And he couldn’t even lie about it - you’d seen him physically turn around and walk away when he’d spotted you somewhere. Several times.

So while it sucked and you missed him desperately, you were focused on the baby that you’d come to have. You weren’t exactly sure what you’d call her in relation to either - but for the time being you’d settled on the name Olivia, or Ollie for short.

Once she’d gotten checked out by one of the doctors back in Jackson, it was determined that she’d been about six weeks old and had likely been abandoned for most of the day before she was found. She was lucky that you’d stumbled across her when you did…or she might not have made it.

You still weren’t exactly what you were going to do with her, but for now, you were keeping her. You’d never had much experience with babies or toddlers before the world arrived at its current state, and you definitely hadn’t expected the first opportunity to come along now. But somehow it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be and you sort of fell into it.

You loved her, she’d won your heart from the first time you’d looked at her, and that was all that mattered.

The rest would fall into place. Hopefully.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What do you think?” you grinned at the baby swaddled to your chest as she babbled away happily, as though she understood what you were saying. You listened to her for a few moments before nodding in agreement, “you’re right. I’ll make pasta for dinner for myself and Ellie, and you’ll get a nice big bottle all to yourself.”

You couldn’t help beam at her as she smiled at you; you knew it probably wasn’t at you in particular but you liked the idea. Ellie hadn’t come by yet for dinner, but you knew she would soon; she was with you most evenings still. You felt bad for her in a way; with everything that had happened (or hadn’t rather) between you and Joel you felt like you were putting her through a divorce and forcing her to choose a side. But she didn’t view it that way…she was waiting for Joel to come to his senses. And you weren’t forcing her to pick either of you.

You heard a knock on the front door of your small, but homey, little house, causing you to pick perk up. You dumped some pasta into the water, figuring it was Ellie being polite, “come on in, Ellie Bean!”

The door opened slowly and you didn’t pay it much attention until you realized that the girl was strangely quiet for once. You set down the wooden spoon before looking over and finding that it wasn’t Ellie that had come in at all.

It was Joel.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say as you looked at him in surprise. He caught your eye and the two of you stared at each other silently for a few moments, “what are you doing here?”

His shoulder sagged in relief as he slowly made his way over to you, letting out a long sigh as he leaned against the counter. He decided that the fact that you didn’t flinch or scamper away was a good sign. The way you instinctively cradled your arm around the baby wasn’t lost on him.

“I wanted to apologize,” he managed to choke out after a few moments, only the bubbling of the water filling the silence. You raised an eyebrow at him but he didn’t say anything further.

“For what?” oh yeah. You weren’t going to let him get away with this one. He caught your eye and a frown tugged down the corners of his mouth, “hmm?”

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” despite the fact that it was hard for him to admit he was wrong, he wasn’t going to lie to you. Not to you - the best thing in his life, “the things I said and did. I shouldn’t have done it. it wasn’t right.”

“Okay,” you nodded as you stirred the pasta, fast feeling stinging and prickling at the back of your eyes. The two of you were silent as he watched you drain the pasta and set it back on the stove, finishing it off with sauce and cheese. You grabbed two bowls of the cabinet, along with utensils as you divvied up the pasta and set it down at the kitchen table. He didn’t move, surprised - and yet entirely unsurprised - by the way you didn’t hesitate to show kindness, “come on. Let’s eat…I know you probably haven’t been taking care of yourself, love.”

“Why?” he sat down across from you, pulling the warm bowl closer, his growling stomach betraying him. You knew exactly what he meant.

“Because I love you - you’re my family,” you focused your attention on the bowl so you wouldn’t immediately cry and lose it, “and you don’t just throw that away. Not even if things get a little out of sync or whatever.”

“I was scared,” he finally admitted, causing you to pause as you looked over at him, “I am scared.”

"Joel," you reached across the table for his hand and gently put yours on top of his. You gave it a reassuring squeeze before offering him a small smile, "me too. It's okay to be scared - you just have to talk to me. That's all. We'll always figure it out together, my love."

"At first it was just because of the immediate threat - what if she was infected or it was just a trap?" he leaned back in chair as you nodded at him to go on. You'd listen to him forever if he needed you to, "but that quickly turned into a lot more. It was everything."

“I’m not going to pretend like I know how you’re feeling or what you’re doing through,” you whispered sweetly, causing him to nod, “but I do know that I love you and I want to be there for you no matter what. I want to help - if you’ll let me.”

“I want you,” he swallowed thickly, “I…I want to tell you everything.”

“Then please do. It doesn't have to be tonight or even all at once,” you promised, “however you want to. Okay?”

“Okay,” you offered him a small smile that he returned. He felt like he hadn’t smiled in weeks.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, the only sounds filling the room were forks hitting the ceramic bowls and the occasional sound from Ollie. She'd fallen asleep, probably lulled to slumber from your movements. You weren't lost on the way Joel's eyes kept drifting back to her.

Once you'd finished eating, you put everything in the sink, unsure of what to say next. Joel filled in the gap.

"Can I hold her?"

Your mouth formed a small o in surprise as you tried to see if he was being serious. You hadn't quite expected that. After a moment of contemplating, you nodded and slowly started to unbundle the sleeping baby from your chest. Ollie didn't wake up, only making a few small sounds instead.

Joel took her gingerly from your arms, holding her in his own and cradled her to his chest. He was experienced - practiced - even though it had been a long time.

You could see the emotions fighting on his features as he trailed a finger over her chubby cheek. You didn't want to interrupt the moment and instead sat back down.

"She's beautiful," he whispered softly, "she reminds me a little of…Sarah. She had these chubby cheeks too and just a mop of dark brown hair. I was so scared when she was born, so scared that I would fuck it all up. But then I took one look at her and it just kinda all made sense. I fell in love with her."

"I can't even imagine the stress and the excitement," it wasn't often that he brought up his daughter, you knew it was hard for him…the pain he must have gone through was unfathomable. The fact that he trusted you with this resonated within your heart, "everything all at once."

"Yeah," he let out a small sound, "it felt like it happened all over again when my wife left. I was so angry and mad but then I realized I couldn't do that - I had my baby girl to take care of. And it ended up being us, just us, until…she died."

"Joel-"

"Let me say it," he insisted, his voice thick with tears, "I have to say it at some point. It'll never be easy, but it's the truth. And Sarah will always be my baby."

"Always."

"When we found her," he looked down and inhaled sharply, "I got mad. Mad that someone had this child and then just felt her to die. Scared that something was wrong with her…scared that would happen. That if we took her I would cause something to happen to her. That she would end up with the same fate as Sarah...or Sam or Henry.”

"That wasn't your fault," tears had rolled down your cheeks by this point and you wanted to do nothing but hold him, "it was never your fault."

"I know…but it took myself a long time to accept that," he confessed, "I've been thinking a lot about it lately…about her."

Ollie opened her big brown eyes as she blinked at him before smiling happily. Joel returned the smile, gently bouncing her so she couldn't become upset.

"I've been thinking a lot about Ellie too," he caught your eye and he noticed how your face lit up at the mention of the young girl, "how I was so reluctant to let her in at first. But she managed to do it, just like you did, and she's family. Even if I don't tell her, I hope she knows I love her like she was my own."

"Trust me," you laughed lightly, "she knows."

"I love you," he caught you so off guard that you just looked at him, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water. You knew he loved you - that had never been once been something you questioned. But he’d never said three little words out loud either, “I’m sorry I haven’t said it. But I-I hope that…you know.”

“I know,” your lips formed a pretty pout that he wanted to kiss away as you nodded at him, “I know, Joel. I love you too.”

“I’m sorry,” he cleared his throat and you shook your head, “I shouldn’t have treated you like I did. I thought that maybe…maybe avoiding the situation might make it go away.”

“And just how often does that work?” there was a teasing lilt to your voice that caused him to chuckled softly.

“I know, Instead all I did was manage to push you away,” he leaned back and sighed, “you didn’t deserve that.”

“I missed you,” it was a gentle confession that made his heart swell, “I was trying to figure out how to approach you…you beat me to it.”

“It was just getting my head on straight,” he paused for a moment and let out a huff of amusement, “and Ellie helped. Girl wouldn’t leave me alone, but she was right.”

“She often is….but don’t tell her that, lest it get in her head.”

“I’ve learned that much,” the two of you shared shy smiles that turned into a bit of tender laughter. The man in question watched you with a reverent gaze that made you want to melt into a puddle, “what did you decide to call her?”

“Olivia,” you grinned, “more commonly known as Ollie.”

“I like it,” he looked down at Olivia called Ollie and felt his heart constrict. She was already back asleep, “what are…what do you want to do with her?”

“Ahhh, yeah,” you shrugged, “that’s the question of the hour, isn’t it? I don’t know. I wish I did but…. It’s hard.”

“Tell me,” he softly encouraged you.

“I’ve never had a kid before let alone a baby,” you stated, which he already knew, “I feel like I have no clue what I’m doing and don’t want to mess anything up. I want her to have all the best things. But at the same time…I don’t want to let her go. I’ve already grown pretty fond of her.”

“I think you’ve done a great job so far,” he insisted and you felt shy under his gaze, “there’s no manual for this - especially not in his world - you just learn. You fuck it up, but you learn and move on. What matters most is…”

“Love,” you finished for as he caught your eye and nodded, “but Joel…what about…fuck, I hate sounding so pathetic, but what us? I don’t want to lose you or have you feel like you need to be here because of her or have you not want to be here because of her.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you knew from the look in his eye that he wasn’t kidding, “no matter what happens. I’m scared of all of this too, but I’m willing to try. If you want me to get on my knees and beg you for forgiveness, I will, baby.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” he looked down at Ollie before back at you, “let’s be scared together. I think we’ll figure it out. What do you say, sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you laughed through the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, brushing them away with the back of your hand, “okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

“Together,” you really liked the sound of that, “we’ll get through it all.”

Before you could say anything else, the door almost slammed open as Ellie barged in, “hello family! What’s new?”

You looked at Joel, who let out a signature dramatic sigh, before both of you looked at Ellie.

“A lot,” Joel couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed and you knew that Ellie already knew Ellie what had happened, “come and sit down, kid.”

“About time,” she helped herself to food, “you’re meant to be together - took you long to figure that out!”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 1 year ago

Note

Could I just like make a request about the jojos having a darling who does literally everything to stay away. Like they come up with the dumbest excuses or do dumb stuff just to stay away

woot woot, this’ll be my first thing with Jodio hopefully I can write him correctly before doing headcanons. Sort of more of a reaction thingy but hope it satisfies, since I’m trying to get back into a groove of things.

Jonathan

His heart flutters hearing you stumble on excuses, he can tell you’re lying but he doesn’t mention this. Though he finds it in your best interest to have someone looking out for you, in the end. Whatever little thing you busy yourself with, he finds a way to come around. Sometimes it just happens to align with his father’s request to fetch something. Just maybe he twists things around to something you like, even if it only keeps you around for a few extra seconds.

Joseph

The biggest trickster there is, it’s near impossible to try and get out of anything with Joseph. “Mmm, you already used that one” He gives you a quick wink. He knows where you hang out mostly, and can easily tell if you’re not the “ruffian” type. If you’re a bit snarky yourself, he does his best to make you slip up. Or if he’s really determined waste enough time that you don’t have to bother with that other “task” you had to do.

Jotaro

Blunt. To put it lightly, Yare Yare leaves his lips as soon as you stumble through an excuse. He knows how efficiently you may or may not get things done. Anything you’re usually not fond of makes him raise an eyebrow (immediate suspicion if it’s possibly just to impress some other person). It almost feels like an interrogation when he asks the sudden interest in whatever you spilled out. Forget trying to do anything dumb, fib or otherwise he’s not letting you do it. Even if you do manage to slip off and go out on your own, Jotaro is around somewhere.

Josuke

Similar to Joseph he’s pretty on top of silly excuses, because he’s probably made up a thing or two himself. The best course of action for him is making up an excuse himself to get into whatever you made up on the fly. If you ask, he tells you he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Even if it’s obvious he’s lying to you, he makes it nigh impossible to leave “hey that’s what you said you were doing”.

Giorno

He definitely knows the ins and outs about you, so lying won’t likely get you very far. Besides every little excuse you do make, he seems to always have a counter for. It’s almost freaky, if you don’t know how much Giorno negotiates. Though there’s times he let’s you go on the basis of a flimsy lie. Rest assured though something goes missing and it always leads back to him. Anything out of the ordinary for you is promptly taken care of, “That’s a rather interesting way to try to keep away from me” He’d tell you in a friendly tone.

Jolyne

Like her father she can be pretty blunt herself, even insists it’s not a great idea to stray too far. The little excuses you make are intriguing to her, but she counters with her own plans. Sometimes she’ll get you lipstick and see if you’ll wear it out later, depending on what you told her you were supposedly doing that day. Little runarounds with you keep her on her toes making sure you don’t run off. Simple things like getting you to spend extra time with her, with her own little excuses. Eventually there might be a time your handcuffed to her bed, for a day or two. “Don’t you ever get tired of making up stuff? It’d just be easier being here with me you know, I’ve got your back”

Johnny

He’s rather scary when you make up something on the fly to avoid him. His blue eyes bore into your soul, unless he uses spin there’s usually nothing much he can do. As he improves however, the space between the two of you slowly shrinks. Johnny makes it certain one way or another your attention is drawn back to himself. He notes everything you do, so if you don’t “have” something he either has an extra or absolutely knows you have an item. Similar likely happens with your horses habits. If he’s determined he manages to pin you under him. He merely mumbles “Stay” at a little too close for comfort distance.

Josuke (Part 8)

He’s curious at some of the excuses you make here and there. Or hearing about things you’d usually wouldn’t do. He’s not dumb obviously, so he asks if there’s a reason you’re avoiding him. The possible roundabout answers you give, don’t really satisfy. It is cute you’re nervous about it though. He may just simply ignore some of the things you tell him to try and keep your distance. Josuke wants to see you anyway, if he can’t he might try and call just to test if you’re at a certain place. “There’s nothing that can convince me to keep away” He’d tell you at one point or another.

Jodio

“Li~ar, liar~” At least this is what happens when you come up with something on the fly. Admittedly he’s busy with trying to get rich, but since he likes you on a level enough to significantly care. The things you tell him don’t quite match up. It’s not really hard to tell you’re avoiding him, he might even put that out bluntly. He’ll show up randomly when you least expect it, he might swipe something from a friend or delay a meetup somehow. “I don’t really care about whoever else you hang out with ya’ kno~w, it only should be a me and you thing”.

“Just don’t get used to thinking you can avoid me all the time”

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withahappyrefrain · 1 year ago

Text

Gin & Tonics (and Parking Spots)

Summary: In which Venus finally meets the infamous Dagger Squad. The fourth installment of the Parking Spots universe

Warnings: Language, Venus being Venus, Jake being lovesick, suggestive language, Venus has an actual name but it's only used twice

A sea of khaki that reeked of testosterone everywhere one turned.

It was Venus' worst nightmare.

She made her way past the crowd of people, avoiding the stares. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know she stuck out like a sore thumb. A "civilian" is what Jake called it.

Apparently "not a soldier" was too simple for the military. And "wasn't coerced by a recruiter to sell my soul to the US government" was too long.

"If you get there before me or Javy, just sit by Penny. She's the owner. You'll like her a lot."

Venus rolled her eyes at her fiancé, "I like anyone who can make a good drink, Jake."

Jake smiled before pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, “Y’know what I mean. She’ll look out for you.”

“What can I get you my dear?” Venus looked up to find an older woman behind the bar.

Her green eyes looked kind. She suddenly understood what Jake meant.

“I’ll just take a gin and tonic,” She shrugged her shoulders, trying her best to appear indifferent, undeterred by the borderline lewd stares. When getting ready, she thought the yellow dress would be a great choice for meeting Jake’s friends. Not too formal, not too informal. It was flattering, but not too revealing. She even put thought into her hair, opting to style it in waves rather than the natural curls that Jake adored.

“You wore that on our first date,” Jake said softly, a smile gracing his face.

She lowered the hanger in surprise, “You remember that?”

“Of course,” he reached a hand out to cup one side of her sweet face, “How could I forget?”

She didn’t account for the fact she would be alone for a bit. No, she was far too busy freaking out about meeting her fiance’s friends for the first time.

Fuck.

“They’re gonna love you V.”

Perhaps if she had some experience of being in a serious relationship and meeting their friends, anxiety wouldn’t be coursing through her body. She had met a few friends of the person she was dating before, but it was usually at a party where after introductions, she was left alone to her own devices.

The idea that someone would want to introduce her to other parts of their life, to become a part of them, was new. That they thought she was important enough to do so. Family? Sure. That was a given. But friends? The people you willingly chose to spend time with?

A whole different ballpark. Though in this case, perhaps turmac was more fitting.

“Since you’re new, I’m going to need to see your ID hun,” The woman, presumably Penny, said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Of course," She held her head high as pulled her driver's license from her wallet, ignoring the stares, trying to play off her hands shaking.

If they wanted her to move, they could fucking ask.

The bartender, who had to be Penny, looked at the ID, a soft smile forming, “Well Danica, I can see why Jake calls you Venus.”

“You…. know who I am?” Great, there was already a preconceived idea of who she was. Before she even had a chance, her fate was sealed.

What was she known as? The girl who yelled at Jake in a parking lot? The girl who threw bread rolls at him?

Penny continued to smile, “Of course! Jake is always excited to show me the latest picture he’s taken of you. The flowers you two got from the farmer’s market are beautiful by the way.”

Heat rushed to her face while recalling last weekend’s adventures. Jake insisted on taking her picture by the flower stand. It was strange at first-still was-how his Instagram that had once been only thirst traps workout pictures were now full of her and their adventures together.

As much fun as it was going through the older posts and giving him hell about it, she loved looking at the newer photos, the ones that showed their journey together.

“He’s a good photographer, I’ll give him that,” A small smile began to form on Venus' face, her shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Don’t give him too much. He needs to be kept on his toes,” Penny laughed in agreement, “I’m Penny by the way. So where is the man of the hour?"

Penny handed her a gin and tonic as she explained, "Had a last minute meeting with Simpson. He should be coming soon, as is the rest of the squad from my understanding."

Penny raised an eyebrow, "So you finally get to meet them! They have been dying to meet you. Been asking Jake about it for months."

The grip on her drink tightened.

Jake had a reputation. And with that reputation, came preconceived notions of what kind of girl he would date.

Venus was not what people thought of when it came to Jake's ideal type. While his family adored her, they all admitted they were surprised when Jake first called to tell them about the woman he met in a parking lot. Hell, even her family was surprised when she described him. They still adored him, loved him, and insisted on serving a traditionally prepared lechon at the engagement party.

But friends were a whole different breed. One willingly chose to spend time with them. Friends were honest, and more often than not, their opinion was highly valued.

She had learned that the hard way.

"I mean, she's nice but do you see it going anywhere? I don't."

"She's really not your type, man."

"She's kind of a bitch."

A soft hand gently laid on top of hers, breaking Venus out of her thoughts. Was it motherly instinct or was her anxiety that plainly written across her face?

She found Penny smiling, "They're so excited to meet you. They already adore you and ask about you constantly."

They were looking forward to meeting you, she repeated in her head. That means they want to meet you. Adore is such a specific word, Penny wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true.

She clung onto Penny's words. They were nuggets of truth, a shield against the negative thoughts that clouded her brain. The evidence that those shitty experiences were in the past, that the situation she was in now was entirely different, was better.

Her therapist would be so proud.

A more relaxed, genuine smile appeared on Venus’ face, the first one she could recall occurring since pulling into the parking lot of the Hard Deck.

“I look forward to meeting everyone. I’ll take another gin and tonic when you get a chance!”

“I got it covered Penny,” a smooth voice said. She turned around, half expecting (moreso hoping) to see Jake, despite the lack of Texan drawl.

When she turned around, there was no tall blonde with sparkling emerald green eyes and a smile so white, she could see it from outer space.

Instead, a Hawaiin shirt so ugly that no Dad at a BBQ would go near greeted her.

Her lips formed a tight line, her eyes narrowing. It was the same look she wore when dealing with annoying patients or annoying men.

“Welcome to the Hard Deck,” The man said with a wink. His eyes were nice, but the caterpillar that occupied the space between his nose and upper lip was what she noticed first.

She recognized him immediately. Jake had given her plenty of information so she could recognize members of the dagger squad.

Bold of him to assume she would just go up to them. But maybe she could have some fun with this.

Penny gave her a look, one that silently asked Should I tell him? Venus just shook her head, turning back to face the infamous Bradley Bradshaw.

“How do you know it’s my first time?” She asked coyly with a raised eyebrow before bringing the drink back to her lips.

“With a face like that? I wouldn't be able to forget ya." Did he also get his pickup lines from the eighties, in addition to his shirts?

Bradlet leaned against the railing of the bar, bending slightly so they were at eye level, “So what brings you here? Besides fate.”

Her eyes could not roll any harder. How many more lines would it take before he started singing Jerry Lewis?

“Well, after hearing about it so much, I just had to see the mustache in person,” She responded, moving her drink to her left hand.

If there had to be a sound that best represented Bradley’s face, it was a record scratch. The best he could respond with was a very confused “Excuse me?”

“I’ll give you credit, you pull off the look pretty well, despite it consisting of a pornstache and clothes from the part of the eighties that even Stranger Things won’t touch.”

“It’s not….it’s not a pornstache.”

A darked haired woman clad in a khaki uniform nearby snorted.

Venus grinned, “It is absolutely a pornstache. But some people are into that. I don’t get it, but good for you Rooster.”

Bradley's eyes knitted together in confusion,“Do I…..do I know you?”

"I would hope you know of me. According to Javy, Jake talks about me a lot. Anyways, we should become best friends. Jake’s reaction will be hilarious.”

It was then Bradley finally looked down, seeing the huge emerald ring on her left hand.

And that's when it hit Bradley Bradshaw like a fucking train.

"You're Venus?!"

It was much louder than she would have liked, the statement causing several people to look at her with curious stares.

Just play it cool, they all work for the military, you actually do important shit, she told herself over and over again.

“In the flesh!" She flashed a smile before taking a huge sip of her drink, trying to ignore the fact that another pilot was now approaching her.

She was going to need another drink to get through this.

"You're Hangman's girl? The one who told him to fuck off when you first met him?"The dark haired woman asked, practically shoving Bradley out of the way.

The infamous Venus shrugged, "I didn't exactly tell him to fuck off. I told him it made no sense why he could fly million-dollar jets but was a shit driver. Phoenix?"

Natasha nodded, “Glad he’s no longer hiding you. I’ve been telling him to bring you around ever since he arrived late to a debriefing with hearts in his eyes as he talked about a woman who referred to him as Hangnail.”

The comment brough relief. At least one person liked her, at least one person wanted to get to know her.

Natasha grabbed her arm, “Come on. The rest of the gang is going to lose their minds when they learn you’re finally here.”

Through the throngs of pilots, Natasha led her to a table filled with other men who all looked vaguely familiar. The tight lipped smile remained on her face as she straightened her shoulders, ready to face the (multiple) men of the hour.

“Hey guys, guess who I met?”

“V! You made it!” Before she could say anything, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist, picking her up.

“Javy, I swear to God if you don’t put me down-” She couldn’t help but laugh. Just like with Jake, Javy had become the older brother Venus never knew she wanted.

Knowing Javy would be there was what made her feel comfortable enough to arrive without Jake. Winning over your fiancé's best friend was quite the confidence boost.

Maybe it was the fact he actually made an effort to get to know her. Maybe it was the fact he took all her digs about the Saints in stride. But with Jake, the three of them had become a trio and she didn't mind at all.

"Hey guys! This is Danica! Aka Venus, aka the one who got Jake to settle down!"

"You really know how to build suspense Coyote," Nat deadpanned before taking a seat next to Bob. Javy lowered her down, her feet returning to the ground.

"You're Venus? The one he proposed to after eight months of dating?" A man with shining brown eyes and energy that could best be described as a golden retriever asked.

Her features softened as she looked down at her emerald ring, "When you know, you know. I also take it you're Mickey?"

"Wow, I guess Hangman talks about us more than we thought," Mickey joked, earning the chuckles from others.

She looked back up, that signature smirk having returned, "We're also having a long engagement, that was my compromise."

"That's not what he said," Phoenix scoffed, recalling the different potential venues Jake had already shown her.

She continued fidgeting with her engagement ring. It wasn’t a matter of Venus being unfamiliar to having all eyes on her. But with Jake's friends, it was different. Another layer of being official that she wasn’t used to.

"Well, you deserve all the drinks for being able to put up with Bagman,” Mickey commented, as if he sensed her nerves.

“Bagman?” she asked, a mischievous glint forming in her big eyes.

"It's what we call him when we feel he hasn't earned being called his proper name, which I'm sure as you know, is most of the time," A man with glasses and a thin lopsided smile that was sweeter than sugar explained.

Her eyes light up, "Oh, I am definitely using that. Also, are you Bob?"

Without waiting for an answer, she walked over to the bespectacled WSO, “You’re so cute! I’m adopting you.” For added effect, she placed a hand on each of Bob’s cheeks.

“Does that mean Bagman is my dad?" Bob asked with an almost grimace.

"Yeah, but I'll make sure he chills out," She reassured him with a soft smile.

“Wait, she’s actually nice?” Reuben whispered to Natasha and Bradley, “The way Jake describes her-”

“Look, if she can find redeemable qualities in Bagman of all people, she must have a lot going for her,” Natasha interjected.

As time passed, Venus found herself more and more at ease with the group. Despite having heard so much, they still took the time to ask questions, to get to know her. They wouldn’t only talk about Jake (not that she wanted them to), and they actually tried to include her in the conversation, despite her lack of knowledge about their field.

It was different. It was nice.

Once drinks got low, Venus offered to go get the next round. Bradley followed her, still apologizing for the flirting earlier.

She chuckled, “It’s totally fine. In fact, I think it’s hilarious that you and Bagman have a similar type,” Her eyes narrowed, “Which by the way, I know plenty of cute, spitfire nurses who are single.”

Bradley’s face turned bright red, “I’m uh-I don’t need any help with-”

“Look, I already plan to find Bob's future wife, might as well find yours while I’m at it. There are people out there who are into what you call a mustache,” She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t get it, but I’m willing to find them for you.”

It was the way she mixed sweetness with snark that confused Bradley, as well as everyone else.

“Can I ask you something?” Bradley finally asked.

“I’m not going to tell you his dick size,” A devious smirk adorned her face, causing her to resemble the image the squad had conjured in their minds when Jake first told them how the ‘future Mrs. Seresin’ referred to him as a knockoff Ken doll.

“That’s not what-”

“But I will say-”

“Please don’t.”

“You could have named him Hungman and it still would have been accurate.”

“I really, really don’t need to hear this.” Bradley’s face was now bright red, whereas the woman next to him casually ordered the next round of beers and a lemon seltzer for Bob with a grin on her face.

“You’re telling me the men in the navy don’t talk about their dick sizes? Least of all, the person whose call sign means cock?”

“It’s a bird-”

“That also means cock.”

Bradley stared at her, quite frankly afraid that if he said another word, he'd have to hear about Hangman’s dick.

She stared right back, able to hold off the impromptu staring contest for a few moments before erupting into a fit of giggles.

When Jake first rambled on about the beautiful woman he had met at a coffee shop, who he insisted was his future wife, Bradley (and everyone else) thought the blonde pilot had lost his damn mind.

But after seeing her truly smile, Bradley could understand why Jake became so smitten.

“How….do you two work?” It was an honest question. Javy asked the same thing the first time he went out with you and Jake. She even wondered about it herself when they first got together.

She shrugged, fingers fiddling with Jake’s class ring that was on a silver chain around her neck, “We just….do. He calms me down. I remind him sometimes it’s better to be quiet and just listen. We both make each other smile and laugh. It’s nice. More than nice. It’s wonderful.”

Bradley noticed what she was fiddling with, "So that’s where it went.”

“He has a ring of mine that he wears with his dog tags. We traded before he went on deployment.” She shrugged again, as if to suggest it wasn’t a big deal.

The soft smile on her face suggested the exact opposite.

Bradley grinned, “Do you know he also wears one of your hair ties around his wrist?”

Her smile only continued to grow, "He says the more pieces he has of me on him, the luckier he is in the sky."

Truthfully, Venus wasn't sure what to expect when she began dating Jake. Certainly not him being such a romantic. It was strange at first. Why would someone go through so much effort to bring flowers, to make dinner reservations, to plan dates when they already had you?

When Jake scoffed at the very idea of not needing to impress it was the first time she truly reflected on previous relationships and just how shitty they were.

"Baby, they were awful," Jake pressed a chaste kiss to her shoulder, "You deserve so much more than what you've gotten."

A hand on your shoulder broke you out of your thoughts.

"I think I just saw that Jeep Wrangler you love so much just pulled up," Natasha teased.

She rolled your eyes, despite a small smile remaining as you shook your head, "I hate that fucking car."

"I'm glad someone else agr-"

"Bradshaw, don't get me started on your car choices." Her eyes narrowed as she shot him a look.

Only she got to insult that hideous car.

Bradley promptly closed his mouth, not wanting to face her infamous wrath.

He was still reeling from the Pornstache comment.

So instead, he simply helped her carry the round of drinks back to the rest of the squad.

"So Venus, what does the woman who made Jake Seresin lovesick do?" Payback asked.

"I'm a level three neonatal nurse at the local hospital," she explained, "Which is partly why it's been so hard to meet y'all. My schedule can be pretty irregular."

The table was quiet as they processed this new piece of information. When they first heard about her, they couldn't help but imagine a cutthroat business woman, a manager, a consultant.

Not a nurse. Particularly one who dealt with children.

"So you um, you-"

She set her glass down with force, "I do not play with babies and change diapers all day. My job is to keep premature babies alive and ensure they're able to go home with their family and live as healthy of a life as possible."

Her voice was tense, no doubt due to past dismissive comments regarding her job.

Bob shifted closer to her, "I think that's amazing. One of my sister's kids was born at 28 weeks and she still swears to this day that if it weren't for y'all, she would not have been able to keep it together."

Her shoulders visibly relaxed as a smile formed on her face, "I like you Bob. I'm going to keep you."

Mickey spoke up, "Hey, wait a second. My girlfriend Cielo and I have already put in a request to adopt Bob."

She put an arm around Bob's shoulder, shaking her head, "Nah, I call dibs."

"We knew him first!" If one didn’t see the gleam of playfulness that laced Mickey’s amber eyes, his tone would sound completely defensive.

Bob finally spoke up, "Just a friendly reminder that I'm thirty one years old."

She turned to the soft spoken WSO, "Which is why I am determined to find you your Missus."

"Get in line, Cielo and I have been working on that."

Natasha snorted, "We've all been working on that."

Bob signed, putting a palm to his face.

"Hey V, I think your man just walked in." Maybe it was fate, maybe the universe took pity on Bob.

But when Venus looked up upon hearing Reuben's words, her heart skipped a beat.

There he was.

Jake was over at the bar, waiting for Penny to take notice of him. No doubt ordering gin and tonic, along with a basket of fries for Venus. He always made sure she had something to snack on.

"Wanna see something?" She asked the gang.

Without waiting, she put two fingers to her mouth, a loud whistle coming out. The noise caught the attention of several people, including a blonde man with eyes greener than the emerald that adorned her engagement ring.

When Jake's eyes met hers, her heart skipped a beat. His eyes lit up, a smile overtaking his face.

"Hi loverboy," she called out with a wave. Oh she tried to smirk, try to play it off as if she was indifferent to the sight of her fiancé.

But Danica's eyes told a different story.

"Venus!" Jake called out, getting even more attention. Not that he noticed. He was too busy practically shoving folks out of the way to get to the table.

Maybe she picked up her pace to meet Jake. Maybe Jake knocked a drink over as his hands placed themselves underneath her thighs, allowing him to pick her up in one swoop.

It’s not like either of them were paying attention.

—-----------------------------------------

To say Jake Seresin was annoyed was an understatement.

His day had started out so well. He got to wake up not on base in a small, old twin bed, but instead in the arms of his fiancé.

Then he had to go to work.

Jake loved his job. He was damn good at it- one of the best, in fact. He enjoyed being at work, which was something many couldn't say.

But not when his job caused him to be late, unable to be with the woman he loved, especially on a night where she needed him the most.

Normally, she would have already met his friends before Jake proposed to her. But thanks to the nature of his job, which involved spur-of-the-moment missions, he had done things a bit backwards.

If it weren't for the nature of his job, Venus could have met the squad back when she only had the title of girlfriend.

Sure, she still would have put pressure on herself, as was in her nature. But decidedly less pressure.

Jake wanted to be there for her, to reassure her that she was in fact, the most incredible person he had ever met and that his friends would see that immediately. To put a hand on her shoulder whenever he saw that smile begin to fade, self doubt creeping into her mind.

Which was why he was all but running into the Hard Deck. His meeting with Cyclone lasted much longer than intended. Normally Jake wasn’t super concerned about showing up late to the Hard Deck, but today was the worst day it could happen.

Deep in his heart, he knew she would be just fine. At worst, she wouldn’t approach the squad until Javy arrived and would stick by Penny.

Jake just wanted her to feel comfortable, to feel at ease. He wanted to support her, like any decent husband would.

So yeah, maybe he was taking advantage of his status, knowing that no one would say anything if he pushed past them without a single excuse me. Jake knew his great grandmother was rolling in her grave, but he hoped Mimi would understand all in due time.

“Hey Penny, have you happened to see an absolute goddess with an affinity for gin and tonics?” Jake asked once he arrived at the front of the bar, ignoring the glares.

Penny simply smiled, "I think your friends found her. She was also pretty low on her beverage last time I saw her."

"Well, we can't have that. I'll take a Miller Light, along with a Gin and tonic with a basket of fries." Jake recalled that she had texted him around two that she was on her lunch break. He doubted she had much time, if any, to eat when she got home from work.

Order fries first, then find the love of his life.

If only the bar wasn't slammed.

He was trying his best not to be impatient. It wasn't Penny's fault, the Hard Deck was always like this when a new class arrived to base.

But damn was it frustrating. The minutes seemed to tick away. Jake looked around, unable to spot his fiancé amidst the sea of khaki.

Until he heard that whistle.

He looked around, Bradshaw finally moving his bigass head to reveal the person that made his heart soar.

She was sitting with the rest of the gang, smiling. She looked at ease, as if she had always been a part of this crew.

Jake knew this was possible, that she had it in herself to open up and connect, rather than sit at the bar and wait for him to come.

But sometimes she forgets that she can.

So when Jake doesn't need to remind her, he can't help but beam.

"Hi loverboy!" His heart fluttered when she sent him a wink, along with her smirk that he fell in love with the first time he saw (it also made him hard but that's neither here nor there).

So yes, he did gently push some people out of the way to get to the table. And he did knock a drink over when he went to pick her up. But in Jake's defense, he hadn't seen her since seven-thirty in the morning and it was only Bradley's drink.

"Hi baby," He said as he pressed his lips to her cheek.

She rolled her eyes, though the smile still remained on her face, "You act like you haven't seen me in forever."

"Because I haven't," Jake murmured against her skin, "It's been ten hours."

"Ten hours?" She repeated, her tone teasing, "You're incorrigible."

"I don't know what that means, but thanks V," He said before pressing his lips against hers.

Before Jake, she wasn't used to PDA. It wasn't a matter of not desiring it, she did. But none of her past relationships were into it, so it wasn't something she pursued.

And then she met Jake. Jake, who would just grab her hand without saying anything. Jake, whose natural inclination was to wrap his arms around her. Jake, who would make the effort to kiss her, even if he was just passing by to get a drink or to unload the dishwasher.

She liked it. She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as his lips moved to her nose, then forehead.

"Can you put me down? You're looking a little desperate GI Joe," She teased, quickly placing a chaste kiss on his jawline.

"You like it," He whispered in her ear, gently setting her back down.

"Debatable," She rolled her eyes, trying to fight back a smile as Jake pressed another kiss against her cheek.

"Debatable?" He questioned, "The ring on your left hand says otherwise sweetheart."

Venus looked down at the ring, "I guess."

"You guess?" Jake hummed, his arms now wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on top of her head.

The noise and chatter of the Hard Deck slipped away when she looked up, meeting his emerald eyes. She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back a lovesick smile.

It was no use, as it came out anyway.

"Oh my God they're adorable," Bradley whispered to Natasha, stunned.

"What the hell is happening?" Natasha whispered back, equally as stunned.

"I think they're…in love?" Mickey didn't sound too sure of himself, if at all.

"Of course they are, is it not obvious?" Bob practically scoffed.

"Careful," Natasha teased, elbowing Bob playfully, "Think she still wants to adopt you. Remember who your dad would be."

—------

The rest of the night wasn't anything unusual, save for Natasha, Bradley, Mickey, and Bob asking Venus questions while Jake, Javy, and Reuben played a round of pool.

"So he listens when you tell him to shut up? Like deadass?" Mickey asked.

She raised an eyebrow, "He listens to me regardless of what I say."

"I don't believe it," Bradley started, "We can barely get him to listen to us and-"

"Hey Jake?" Venus called out, remaining in her seat.

Jake looked up from the angling his pool cue, his eyes lightening up when they met hers, "What's up darling?"

"Do you think Sammy and Jess deserved to win Love Island?" Bradley couldn't help but scoff at Venus' question, there was no way-

"Jess did, because she had the best personality of that season and was actually likable. She would have won regardless of who she coupled up with," Jake explained as he briefly looked back to his aim, "Unfortunately she was stuck on Sammy, who did not deserve to win, dude's a fuckboy if I've ever seen one. Is your drink empty?"

The squad wasn't sure what was more shocking, the fact Jake had been able to make a perfect shot without looking again, or how focused he was on another person's needs.

Venus, oblivious to this confusion, raised her empty drink, "I am! Can you get me another gin and tonic please?"

Jake immediately set his pool stick down, ignoring the confused cries of Javy and Reuben as he went to Venus to give her a kiss on the cheek and pick up her glass.

"What did you just do?" Mickey asked as soon as Jake headed over to the bar.

Venus shrugged, "I asked him for another drink. I got his last drink, it's only fair."

"But he was in a middle of a game-"

"The less you think about it, the less confused you'll be," Javy explained, cutting off Reuben.

Javy had long since learned that Jake's focus was now all things Venus. He was pretty sure once Venus became pregnant, she would be able to pry Jake away from a Texas football game.

"How do you get him to listen to you?" Bradley asked, stunned.

"I love her," Jake scoffed because wasn't it obvious? The only people who didn't seem confused by all this were Javy and Bob.

Jake now understood why Venus wanted to adopt the bespectacled WSO.

"So what are we? Chopped liver?" Natasha remarked, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"He just loves y'all a little less," Venus teased, taking her drink from Jake's hands.

Bradley scoffed, "Dude, I was your bunkmate."

"Yeah but did you give him blowjobs frequently?" Venus asked, unaffected by the number of aviators who nearly choked on their drinks. Jake could feel the tops of cheek heat up.

"Well, depended on-" Bradley started, much to the delightful shrieks of Natasha, Javy, and Reuben.

"Alright, it's time for us to go pick a new song," Jake stated loudly, practically pushing his fiancé to the jukebox.

"You're finishing that story later!" Venus called out, pointing to Bradley.

"Only if you convince him not to play Free Rider!" Bradley called back.

Jake dragged away his fiancé, who was now laughing at the antics of his coworkers.

He couldn't help but smile at the sight. She was beautiful like this; eyes squinting, cheeks round as she smiled, skin glowing, not having a care in the world.

Jake would do anything to keep that smile on her face.

"I get to pick," She said, taking the quarter out of Jake's hand.

"Why do you get to pick?" Jake teased before placing a kiss against her temple.

"Because it's my first time here," she started, because wasn't it obvious? "Plus, I want Bradshaw to finish the story."

"You're really about to give Bradshaw what he wants?" Jake put his hand over his heart, "V, that's the most offensive thing you've said to me."

Venus simply raised an eyebrow as she scoffed, "That's the most offensive thing I've said to you? Compared to all the other stuff? Compared to what I said when we first met?"

"I thought it was charming," Jake was completely sincere, which Venus didn't know if she should find that cute or concerning.

"I think you liked being called a Ken doll," she muttered, looking through the list of songs.

Jake wrapped his arms around her waist, nestling his head on her shoulder, "I liked the woman who called me a Ken doll. So much so, I plan to marry her."

Her teeth tugged her bottom lip, a tall-tale sign that she was flustered. She didn't blush, but Jake had learned the signs; she would bite her lip, her lashes would flutter. Her hand that wasn't pressing buttons on the jukebox drummed against the machine, looking for something to do.

"I love you," he whispered. The declaration made her head turn, allowing Jake to steal a kiss.

"Could have just asked."

"Where's the fun in that?" He pressed his lips against a heated cheek, leaving tiny kisses.

Her eyes softened upon looking up at Jake, "How did the meeting go?"

He squeezed the soft flesh of her hip, "Cyclone thinks I have a decent shot at the instructor position. And that I would be a good fit."

The statement caused her eyes to light up. Jake could see that she was trying to hold herself back, trying not to get her hopes up.

"So he'll write you a letter of recommendation?"

He grinned, showing off his pristinely (and blindingly) white teeth, "Him and Mav."

"We stan a short king." She said it half in jest, purely to see Jake's brows knit together in confusion, the five year age difference showing.

"Is that a Tik Tok reference?"

She stifled a giggle as she shook her head, "No. But you're getting there!"

"You make me feel so old," Jake sighed. He thought he was doing so well, until Venus informed him that Instagram reels were just Tik Tok videos shown two weeks later.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, "So you think you have a shot at it? The position?"

Before meeting her, Jake would have scoffed at the suggestion he wouldn't get something. He knows who he is, what he's capable of.

But he doesn't want to let her down. To disappoint her. They both know what this position would entail; permanence. Not having to be deployed on missions. Not having to be away from her for months at a time. The ability to settle down with her.

"I think so. Cyclone says I have the track record to prove I know the material and I now have the temperance to show I can teach it well."

She grinned, "that's the most polite way to say you're no longer a cocky asshole."

Jake wiggled his eyebrows, eliciting another soft giggle from her.

"Are you sure you're okay with this? If you get the position?" She asked, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to hide her nerves.

When Jake first brought up the idea of applying to the instructor position, she thought he was joking. Why would someone give up the chance to travel around the world, playing the role of a real life superhero?

But then he kept bringing it up, announcing he was going to apply. When questioned, Jake said it was simple.

"Getting that job means I get to stay here, with you."

That's what he said then and it's what he said now.

"Besides," he added, "the chances of me becoming an ace are low. I'm more than happy to be the only one with two confirmed kills in my generation."

Venus' eyes narrowed at him and without breaking eye contact, she pressed a button on the Jukebox.

The notes of Queen's I Want to Break Free filled the Hard Deck, which was followed by the sounds of the squad clapping and thanking Venus.

"Babe!" Jake nearly whined, putting his hand on his heart, "Really?!"

"Oh please, you absolutely deserve that." Venus stated before walking towards the bar.

Jake all but ran after her, grabbing her closest hand.

"So is now a bad time to tell you that today I parked within the lines?"

Venus stopped, her eyes slowly turning towards her fiancé, "Both lines?"

Jake nodded, a proud, albeit cocky smirk adorning his face.

She took a step forward, her face now inches apart from Jake's.

"You know," her voice was low, "If you want me to fuck you, you can just ask."

Jake visibly gulped, the smirk fading as heat rushed to his face, "I mean I, uh, I always want you to-"

"Did you take a picture of it? Your parking job?" She rested her chin on Jake's head, wrapping her arms around his waist. To others, the gesture was very sweet.

But Jake could see the desire in her eyes and it was making his knees weak.

"It's um, how I parked outside of here-"

"I want to see it. And then I want to go home and fuck you," with that, she was walking towards the door, her fingers hooking themselves around one of Jake's belt loops to ensure he followed.

Not that he needed encouragement, he was already trailing right behind her.

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