#rock n roll high school imagine

[jurassicsickfics]

There was once a time where almost all my faves were redheads, now the vast majority of them are blonde. Oh how times change lol.

And gifs of my gals because I feel like it

[urhoneycombwitch]

imagine being loved by me

🍯 honey flavour: your love has stood the test of time, thus far, but a party fit for a rockstar brings up some bitter emotions.

🐝 the bees: rockstar!Eddie x jealous!Reader

wc: 8k

cw: drugs and alcohol consumption, mentions of weight gain (eddie’s, in a positive manner), R has panic/anxiety attack, jealousy (talked about and resolved tho), softdom!Reader, softdom!Eddie, oral (E and R receiving), R has breasts + a V and referred to with she/her pronouns, P in V sex, cumming inside w/out protection

foreword: timeline is wobbly and may not align perfectly w canon bc I’m bad at math so shhhh suspend ur disbelief. based on this anon thank you v much anon <3

___

It’s the coldest January Hawkins has seen in ages. Snow banks sit high on the roadsides, air thick with snowflakes, three-AM fog brought in courtesy of the bitter wind chill. 

Under the yellow floodlight of a nearby streetlamp, your boyfriend is sucking down the last of a joint while you stamp your feet against the gravel parking lot.

“C’mon, Eddie,” you whine, crossing the arms of your fleeced puffer jacket, bouncing on your heels to keep the blood flowing. “My toes are gonna get frostbite.”

“A touch dramatic,” Eddie replies, unbothered. The cherry of the joint between his lips burns orange, casting a warm glow over Eddie’s cheekbones, the twinkle of snowflakes caught in his bangs. “I told you to go in without me, princess. Warmer in there.”

“Without you? As if.” You pull the pity card, and it works, ‘cuz it always does- that boy has got to learn how to say no to you, one of these days. 

Not today, though, because Eddie is tamping out the ember on the sole of his boot and crunching up the snowy path to sling an arm around your neck.

“Grub time,” he says against your hair, pressing his cold lips to the side of your forehead as you both make your way into Benny’s Burgers.

The heated air is a welcome relief, and save for a couple of old-timers at a side table, you and Eddie are the only customers in the place. 

Benny greets you both from where he’s flipping patties on the kitchen grill, waving a spatula at the corner booth- “All yours, kiddos. Want the usual?”

You and Eddie call out affirmatives as you sink into opposing seats, unwrapping yourselves from all your winter gear as you go.

“God bless Benny Hammond for expanding his night hours,” you say, piling your green scarf on the tabletop. “This is a good tradition for us, y’know. Post-band practice smoking and coffee- very rock and roll.”

“I concur.” Eddie tosses his knit hat at you playfully. “You, my lady, have the most rock ‘n roll soul I ever did see.”

As Benny approaches with two mugs of steaming coffee, you muse aloud, “Not sure if the amount of sugar you’re about to dump in your coffee is very metal, per se...”

“Y’hear that, Benny?” Eddie grabs a fistful of sugar packets and shakes them indignantly. “My girl’s trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. How’s a rockstar s’posed to live in these conditions?”

“Lord knows,” Benny says, sardonic, setting the mugs down and turning back to the kitchen.

Eddie winces as his hands wrap around the heat of the mug, and you notice right away. “Your fingers splitting again? I have that salve that you used last time, but it’s back at the trailer.”

He puts his hand face-up onto the table, and you slip yours into his, the deep fingertip grooves from guitar strings rough against your soft palm.

“I’ll live. Plus, it’s kind of metal, right?” Eddie runs a calloused thumb across the back of your hand.

You squeeze back, give him a wink. “Very metal.”

Eddie’s been working himself to the bone lately. Trying to stay in school and not drop out is a feat in itself, but compounded with the band practices that have only ramped up in length recently, it’s a lot to balance.

He hasn’t complained at all, of course. It’s not really in his nature.

In the past few weeks, however, he’s been imbued with this near-manic energy, a renewed sense of purpose. In between your own fitful sleeps you often wake in the early hours of the morning to find Eddie hunched over his desk, pen flying across his notebook as he reworks an old song or outlines a new one. Not that you weren’t proud of him before, but seeing him apply this newfound passion to his music has been a huge source of joy for you. 

And, if you’re being really honest, also a major turn on. I mean, the boy’s got swagger like no other, and you’re so glad he’s finally utilizing it on stage. Even if that stage is in the middle of a piece of shit dive bar. Still counts, in your book.

Benny drops off baskets of hot fries, a burger for Eddie, and a BLT for you. Methodic and familiar, you offload half your fries to Eddie’s basket as he slides his burger towards you for the first bite. 

After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Eddie balls up a napkin in his fist and raps the table with his knuckles. “So, uh. Kind of have some news.”

You slot the ketchup bottle back into its metal holder and look up with raised brows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looks suddenly nervous, knee knocking into the underside of the table as he bounces his leg compulsively. “You remember Paige Warner? Graduated in ‘81, brother is a baseball jock?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath- his unease is kind of setting you on edge. 

“What about Paige Warner?” you prompt.

“She moved out to L.A. for a job and she’s working this scouting gig for some bigshot record,” he continues, absently pulling the thin napkin in his hands into pieces, staring vacantly at the mess. “And she wants Corroded Coffin to record and send out a demo to the label.”

As the news sinks in, your jaw drops. “Holy shit. What?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s fidgeting with the paper scraps now, still not making eye contact with you. “She wants us to start recording next week. I haven’t told anyone else, yet, I wanted to make sure you were the first-”

You interrupt him with an excited little squeal (drawing glares from the old guys across the diner) and shove up from your side of the table to throw your arms around Eddie.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, laughing as Eddie pulls you into his lap- “Eddie, that’s amazing!”

“You think so?” he asks, your enthusiasm allowing his own to creep in; He slides his hands to your denim-clad hips, his self-professed favorite stress toy (well, tied for favorite with your thighs). 

“How come you were so nervous to tell me?” You ask him, gently, tucking his dark hair behind his ears so you can see his face better. “Were you thinking I’d react differently?”

He looks up at you wide-eyed, shakes his head- “No, no, I wasn’t worried about you reacting a certain way. I just… I’m just worried about what this’ll mean. You know. For us.”

“Us?” You echo, encouraging him to continue. 

Eddie squeezes at your hips, presses the crown of his head against your collarbone like he’s mustering up the courage to speak. “Yeah, us. I know L.A. isn’t your dream- shit, I don’t even know if it’s mine- but you didn’t sign up to go on the road like this. You’ve got college to consider, and-”

“So I’ll take a gap year,” you interrupt, putting a hand to his cheek to make him look at you again, and when he starts to protest, you talk over him. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my life yet anyways. Following my hot rockstar boyfriend to a new town sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

He shakes his head again, and you can feel his dimples spring to life under your hand as he teases, “Gonna be my little groupie?”

“And more,” you confirm, giving him a kiss (chaste, so as not to invoke any more ire from the grumpy other customers) and sliding off his lap to return to your own seat. “I’ll be your assistant extraordinaire, if you want. Or bodyguard. Make sure none of the other groupie chicks get too close.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re the only groupie I need, sweetheart.”

Settling back into your respective seats, you both work on the last basket of fries while chatting genially about the future. Eddie mentions getting an apartment in Los Angeles, so there’s less of a commute, which branches the conversation into the logistics of a cross-country move, and then on to more important topics such as the alleged coolness of west-coast parties. 

“Who’s your celebrity hall pass?” you ask, out of pure interest, dipping a fry into the well of ketchup. “Like, say you’re rubbing elbows at some famous muckety-muck’s party and someone catches your eye. Who’re you taking back to the motel for a slutty roll in the hay?”

Eddie snickers at your phrasing, then says, “I mean, preferably, my super hot girlfriend-”

You throw a fry at his head. “That’s such a cop-out answer. In this hypothetical, Joan Jett is in red leather petting up on you and you’re saying you wouldn’t take her up on a one-night stand?”

A laugh bursts out of Eddie, a real, proper one where he throws his head back. “Are you actively encouraging me to hook up with some bimbo at a random party? Without you? Unlikely scenario on all fronts, babe.”

This earns him another launched fry, and he squawks, trying to shake it out of its place caught in his hair as you reprimand him- “Joan Jett is not some bimbo, watch your mouth! And what I’m saying is, if you didn’t at least try to score us a threesome with her, I’d be pissed.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie soothes you a tad derisively, likely a ploy to avoid more flying food- “if I meet Joan Jett I will do my level best to get her in our bed. Scout’s honor.”

He holds up two fingers and wiggles them obscenely, grinning when you laugh again. “All right, Nosey McGee. Who are you taking home from the party?”

You hum, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, contemplating the options. “I guess I could be talked into a night with Kirk Hammett.”

Eddie’s turn to launch a fry. “You slut,” he chuckles, “That was a way quicker answer than mine.”

“Okay, fine. If I meet Kirk Hammett, I promise to at least make a bid for threesome. Deal?” You extend your pinkie across the table.

Eddie loops his little finger into yours. “Deal.”

____

The memory of that cozy diner evening years ago fades as you shake yourself to the present.

You aren’t two highschool kids with lofty dreams, anymore- after Eddie’s recovery from all that Upside Down bullshit in ‘86, Corroded Coffin took off. Even though Paige didn’t end up coming through with any deals, Eddie and his bandmates fought like hell to get signed- and by the end of that year, a small record label in the heart of downtown Chicago had taken the bait.

Corroded Coffin turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to Arken Records; by the spring of ‘87, business was booming thanks to the help of Corroded’s debut album, The Banished Ones- their new single was a chart-topper for over 6 weeks. (Smash Hit magazine’s latest review was titled “Fresh Sound Rises from Dirt Nowhere.” You have the paper clipping saved in your ever-growing folder with “rockstar boyfriend!!!” handwritten in black ink.) 

And in a few weeks, the band will set off on their first real tour, starting in Chicago and ending with a bang in an already sold-out show in Hawkins- Dustin, Steve, and the rest of the gang with VIP front-row seats, of course. 

As much as you and Eddie have grown and matured in the past few years, the core of you both has remained the same. Eddie is still just as dorky, goofy, and caring as he always has been, while you’ve kept that tenacious spirit and quick wit that he fell in love with back in the early days of dating. Even now, with his popularity rising and his rockstar dreams on their way to coming true, Eddie constantly brings his focus back to you. 

Pillow talks in cushy hotel beds, late night ramblings over post-show whiskeys, holding hands in the back of yet another cab- when he could be talking about the thousands of exciting things happening in his own life, Eddie is asking about you.

Did you talk to Robin last night, sweetheart? How’s ‘ol Birdie doin? What do you wanna wear to that dinner thingy tomorrow… could go naked for all I care. In fact you probably should because of feminism and all that. Did you sleep okay last night? Let me look at ya. You thinkin’ any more about those applications you got?

You’d taken a gap year to support Eddie, which you were happy to do, but with ‘87 drawing to a close, he’s been more insistent lately that you take a look at all your college options. Honestly, you’ve been enjoying the adventures that come with touring way too much to consider going back to the rigidity of school. 

And plus, having the love of your life nearly bleed out in your arms in a parallel dimension has totally realigned your priorities. If folks thought you and Eddie were attached at the hip before… 

He’ll likely argue you into academia, eventually. He always rolls high on persuasion. Damn him.

For now, you’ve got a party to attend. 

Arken Records is playing host, on the last night of 1987- in celebration of Corroded Coffin’s success and to kick off the New Year’s festivities, they’ve rented out a house in east Chicago for the event. 

Well, house isn’t the right word. More like mansion. Vaulted ceilings tall as a church’s, huge windows overlooking the Chicago river, a grand chandelier with flickering candles in nearly every room. 

When you and Eddie had toured the place a few days previous, he’d made a joking complaint low in your ear about not having the time to fuck you on every surface. Your laugh had reverberated off the sweeping mahogany floorboards, mostly at the expense of Eddie’s poor publicist who’d happened to hear his comment. (Melanie had really been putting in overtime lately; you made a mental note to send her a very nice flower arrangement and vouchers for a spa trip.)

The party was in full swing by the time you and Eddie arrived, fashionably late, and he had been folded into the throng of other musicians and partygoers against his will pretty much immediately- which you’d expected. The last hour, he’s been throwing you piteous looks from his spot across the room, where he hasn’t had the chance to move an inch with the amount of people keeping the conversation going. You’ve slipped to his side a few times, refreshing his drink, letting him curl an arm around your waist as you perch on his knee, only half-focused on whatever story some producer is saying as Eddie’s hand trails up your thigh. 

You’re back on the nearest wall again, sipping champagne, taking it all in. There are probably over a hundred people crammed into this banquet room, bass thumping through the floorboards, tables shoved to the outer corners making space for a makeshift dance space. 

The air is hazy with smoke from various cigarettes and joints; as the night has progressed, the smell of freshly-applied cologne has been replaced with heady sweat as the dance floor calls more people to writhe and grind in groups and partners. Eddie is still stuck in the lone pod of living room chairs, surrounded by a rapt audience of people crammed in to hear him better over the blaring music.

He looks damn good tonight, in a cut-off black tee and his favorite ripped jeans, leather jacket hung on the chair behind him. Silver catches the light from every angle- on the chains at his hips, around his neck, glinting off his rings as he gestures animatedly mid-story. He’d asked you to do his eyeliner at the hotel earlier, and although it’s smudged and blurred at the edges now he’s still pulling it off. Tiny silver stars, hand-drawn with your eyeshadow brush, twinkle across his cheeks like freckles.

Eddie wanted to match with you, whined until you added a belt made of gold-plated stars to your outfit. You went simple, the gold to his silver- belt cinching your short black satin slip dress, delicate brass rings and bracelets around your fingers and bare forearms. The one piece of silver you are wearing is a chain around your neck, Eddie’s guitar pick nestled snug between your breasts. 

You still resolutely refuse to wear heels, even after Eddie’s stylist cajoled you into practicing on stilettos for a disastrous media training session last month- tonight you’re in a chic pair of Mary Janes with the slightest suggestion of a heel. Compromise. 

There’s a big laugh from the crowd in the corner again as Eddie knocks a hand into Gareth’s chest for emphasis, nearly knocking the younger boy off his seat. You stare unabashedly at Eddie’s forearms, biceps on full display; he’s filled out a bit since leaving home, his usually lean frame boasting a bit more weight and bulk now that he’s got consistent access to well-rounded meals. 

He’s looking healthy, down right glowy. You’re thinking about that smattered trail of dark hair that slides down the crest of his stomach, now with extra padding enough to sink your teeth into. As if he knows, Eddie catches your eye from across the room and winks, cheekily. 

You shiver and unconsciously press your thighs together, hiding your grin with another swallow of champagne.

The alcohol turns a bit sour going down, though, as a crimped-haired blonde girl worms her way to Eddie’s side, laughing a little too loudly at the joke he just told. When she places a manicured hand on one of his shoulders, the thin stem of your glass nearly snaps in your grip.

The thing about rockstars is they have crazy sex appeal. The thing about your rockstar is he’s only interested in you, something that has been proved many times over.

So why is tonight hitting you so hard? Why do you feel nauseous the longer Eddie lets some random woman’s hand stay on his bare skin when you know he’s going home with you, and only you?

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the overcrowded room, or the memories of Benny’s diner still lingering like a bruise in your mind. Hard to pinpoint exactly. All you know is that jealousy is gnawing like a thing raw and seeking in the pit of your stomach, and if you don’t get out of this stuffy room soon you’re gonna do something tabloid-worthy, like cry in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party.

By the grace of some god you make it across the dance floor and into a side bathroom unscathed, the pulsing sound of the party blissfully dimming as you shut the door behind you. Your mind whirls as you grip the gilded sink for stability, blinking hard at the tears beginning to form. 

You love having a boyfriend who’s larger than life. You love that he’s taking up space and getting to use that charm that was nurtured on the DM throne back in Hawkins. You’re so proud of him, you really are. 

You’re just starting to hate the way other people’s surface-level love of him makes you feel.

Because that’s what it is, right? Just surface-level, you reason with yourself- the level of intimacy that you and Eddie have is unmatched, something that the newly-formed masses of admirers won’t ever get to experience.

Christ, can jealousy give you hives? You grab a handful of paper towels and soak them in cold tap water, then press the damp bundle to your chest, breath stuttering.

You’ve never been the jealous type, or the overbearing type- it’s a new feeling, and maybe that’s why it feels so scary. The more you try to tamp it down, the more it rears its ugly head, making you, in turn, feel embarrassed for having such a strong reaction in the first place.

It’s a vicious cycle that’s only seeming to gain speed as you realize you haven’t yet managed a full breath since coming to your hiding spot. Your lungs are pinched and burning as you drop the soggy paper into the sink, leaning into the lip of the porcelain to steady yourself.

There’s a knock on the door, and you choke out “Just a minute”, not sure if the person on the other side can even hear you over the music when Eddie’s voice leaks through.

“Baby? That you in there?”

Against your better judgment, you open the door, and he crams in the small space, locking it again behind himself.

“There you are, I saw you leave and thought you were getting a drink or something but then you didn’t come back and- are you okay?”

He interrupts his own stream of consciousness when he notices the state you’re in. You give him a trembly smile, waving a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, all good. I’ll come back with you, just needed to pee.”

Eddie is not so easily thrown off the scent. He murmurs your name, sliding his hand into yours, looking at you with a wounded puppy gaze- fuck, you can’t have a breakdown. Not here, not on New Year’s in some knockoff-Playboy’s bathroom.

And certainly not in front of Eddie, who’s asking you to tell him what’s wrong, what happened, with an increasingly pleading tone that’s really, really not helping your whole Don’t Cry agenda. 

Hoping your voice doesn’t break, you clear your throat and pull your hand from his grasp. “Nothing happened, okay? I just had too much to drink, feeling overly sentimental or something. I’m okay.”

You think your white lie was convincing enough when Eddie reaches back for the door handle, that maybe he’ll rejoin the party and leave you to have a good cry, but after poking his head out the doorway briefly he grabs onto your wrist, tugging you to his side and hissing “Quick!”

And then you’re both making a break for it down the mostly-empty hallway, Eddie pulling you smoothly past a wall of expensive-looking oil paintings before going through a set of double doors that lead to the outside.

It’s December in Chicago, which means a light layer of snow covers the terraced garden that Eddie is leading you through, stopping at a stone bench flanked by two scraggly bushes. 

“Made it,” he huffs with exertion, dropping your hand to shrug his leather jacket off in favor of draping it around your own shoulders.

“You’re gonna be cold,” you sniffle, partly from the tears, partly from the crisp night air.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, wrapping you in a hug. You press your forehead to his chest. “Got my girl to keep me warm, though.”

You stay like this for a few moments, his arms solid around you, breaths coming easier as the familiar smell of his tangy skin and that spicy bar soap he uses fills your senses.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, gently, holding you at arm’s length to study your face.

When you shrug, unsure of where to start, he lets go of you and walks backwards, taking an unflinching seat on the snow-covered bench.

You gasp despite yourself, reaching to pull him up even as he twists out of your grasp- “Eddie, jesus, you’re literally gonna freeze your ass off. Get up!”

But he’s solid in his seat, widening his stance, boots planted on the ground- “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so you better start talking before my jeans freeze to the concrete.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he’s giving you that look again, the one that cracks through the tough exterior every time, and you wrap your arms around yourself under the warmth of his jacket as you admit, “Okay, fine. It’s something. I’m just… having an overreaction.”

“To the shellfish?” he deadpans.

“No, asshole, to the blonde girl who was rubbing up on you earlier,” you snap.

Eddie blinks, genuine confusion in his voice- “There was a blonde girl… rubbing up on me?”

“She was petting your shoulder,” you continue, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground. “She was touching you, and I got- jealous, I guess.”

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember her, at all,” Eddie emphasizes, spreading a palm flat against his chest in a gesture of sincerity, hair shifting across his shoulders as he cocks his head to the side.

His face is too familiar, too earnest for you to be able to say what you’re feeling without bursting into tears, so you turn on your heel, pacing a short loop in front of the bench, your breath hanging in misty clouds as you speak. 

“It’s not even about her, necessarily. It’s about me and my stupid emotions. I’m not usually like this- jealous, you know? Like, I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished, and I don’t mind sharing you, really I don’t, it’s just…”

You pause in your pacing, let your head drop back to look at the inky black sky pinpricked with stars, and your next words fall out like a confession.

“I just feel like I’m in mourning.”

You can feel his eyes on you still, as you loose the feeling that’s been caught tight in your chest. “It sounds so dramatic, when I say it like that. But I think that’s what it is. I miss when it was just the two of us, in this little bubble where no one knew our names and we just had each other.”

As the words leave your mouth, you scramble to explain, to soften the blow, hands tightening around your upper arms as you turn back to face the boy on the bench. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or, like, a total jealous bitch, because I really love you and I hope you know I’m not- are you laughing?”

Eddie tries his best to stifle the laughter into his fist when he sees how indignant you look. He rises from the bench, still a bit mirthful, pulling you back into his space. “Sorry, honey, I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”

You’re glaring at him now, and he ducks to kiss at the lines between your brow before pulling back and saying, “I think what you’re feeling is normal, and I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. Remember that asshole at the Smith Center party who kept trying to get your number right in front of me?”

“Vaguely.”

“I wanted to punch his lights out. Make a real scene, kiss you sloppy in front of some cameras.” Eddie cups your face in his hands, soothing his thumb against the wetness of your lashline. “What I’m saying is, I get jealous, too. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“But…” there’s a well of emotions that you’re drawing from, and it’s not empty yet, one nagging thought still surfacing. “But these girls that are coming on to you, they’re like… really hot. I don’t look anything like them.”

Eddie frowns. “Are you seriously trying to make a case for yourself on the grounds of not being really hot? That’s not gonna hold up in court, gorgeous. I mean… have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

He lightly taps his knuckle against your head, trying to get you to crack a smile, but you’re not ready to give in yet. 

“You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?” you whisper, dropping your eyes from his consuming gaze to the wyvern inked on the inside of his arm. 

“Sweetheart…” Eddie sounds genuinely pained. The ink in his skin stretches as he slips a hand to the back of your neck, cold rings against your skin making you shiver. “I couldn’t ever get bored of you. Not in a million years. We've been through too much together for you to think like that, hm?”

He strokes his thumb down the column of your neck, those doey brown eyes on you again. “Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever be jealous, ‘cuz god knows it makes me hot under the collar when you are. But I’m sayin’ I never wanna make you feel like you need to earn me, okay?”

His thumb tracks back up to the hollow of your jaw, taps twice questioningly, and you nod, letting out a shaky, “Okay.”

When he kisses you, it feels like every other time- comfortable, grounding, familiar. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, and you let him lick into your mouth, gripping at his arms, flushing hot as you give it back to him in spades.

With a short groan, he pulls back, a wet click as your mouths separate- “As much as I wanna jump your bones in this wintry wonderland, I think the snow might’ve actually frozen my balls off.”

You giggle, spanning your hands around the meat of his waist, kissing up into his mouth again- “Poor baby. Want me to warm ‘em up in my mouth?”

He gives a solid smack to your ass for that, his palm smoothing over the stinging skin with condescension when you yelp- “All dish and no take, baby? Not exactly fair.”

____

Despite your weak protestations that you both should probably rejoin the party, at least until midnight, Eddie insists on taking you back to the hotel. 

“This party blows, anyways,” he says over his shoulder to you as he leads you back through the halls of the house. “If I hear one more Tears for Fears track I might throw myself into the river from one of the hundred balconies in this place.”

He manages to track down Melanie with some effort, winding his way through the throng of people to where she’d been chatting with a reporter, plucking at her elbow to get her away from the crowd and into the quieter hallway with you.  

“We gotta scoot, Mel,” he tells her, really hamming up the charm as the young publicist widens her eyes. “Think you can get us a ride outta here?”

“Mr. Munson, you can’t just leave,” Melanie insists, frazzled. “Someone from Rolling Stone has been waiting for the last hour to talk to you, if you could just-”

“No can do.” Eddie shakes his head, mock-apologetic. “There’s been an accident. Of a personal nature.”

You manage to choke down your laughter as Eddie turns around to show off the dark stains on the back of his jeans. They’re just wet from the snow that he sat in earlier, of course, but it looks convincing enough to make Melanie blanch and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll have a cab out front in ten for you both. Please keep a low profile until then.”

Eddie gives a sharp salute and you mouth an apology at her before she retreats to find a phone.

Okay, so maybe add a hefty bonus to that Nice Things for Melanie list of yours. 

____

One of the perks of having a rockstar for a boyfriend is the sweet digs- the label shelled out for Chicago’s finest penthouse suite; an entire luxurious upper floor with a private elevator, windows overlooking the far-below city lights, and a sunken bath big enough for two.

Also included? Soundproof walls.

A perk you’re very grateful for as Eddie walks you backwards into the room, sucking a mark with stinging teeth into your neck as you moan, then giggle breathily, admonishing- “Christ, Eddie, slow down. We have all night.”

Eddie pulls back just far enough to frown down at you, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to squeeze at your ass. His rings are cold against your bare flesh, and he grins when you shiver. “Uh huh. Sure do have all night. You gonna take advantage of that?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, cheekily, but that smirk drops from his face in record time the second you shove him to the bed. As his knees give out in favor of sitting on the mattress, you steady your hands against his broad shoulders to swing yourself into his lap.

Eddie’s looking up at you, cinnamon eyes darkened with lust- it makes your stomach flip something awful. Your skin feels alight with heat as Eddie’s hands drip like water down your sides, then to your parted thighs.

You sigh into his mouth as his fingers trace the front of your underwear, the silk sticky with your arousal.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says, equal parts admonishment and pitying as you squirm into his touch. “What’s got you this worked up, hm?”

He’s asking like he doesn’t know- like he didn’t tease you with filthy whispers and wandering hands in the back of the car the whole way here. 

“Whaddya think,” you scoff, not quite ready to give in yet, enjoying the thrill of being cagey as Eddie hooks a finger to tuck your panties to the side.

He grins, simmering, enjoying the chase just as much as you. His middle finger swipes through your folds and you shudder in his arms, hands tightening into the meat of his shoulders as he brings the wetness up to your clit.

Eddie rubs quick, steady circles until you’re mewling, bucking hips grinding down to seek more friction. You can feel the wetness seeping out of your core, dampening his jeans as he licks back into your mouth, capturing the soft noises you’re making as he winds you up.

“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has anything to be jealous of.” Eddie noses at the spot under your jaw, and when you let your head fall back on a hinge to grant him access, he sucks another mark into the column of your throat. “‘M all yours, sweetheart. You gonna take what’s yours?”

Truth be told, your mind went fuzzy the second Eddie got his hands on your clit, the consistent build of pleasure sparking between your legs rather distracting. You’d almost forgotten how the night had started, but you let the jealousy and possessiveness creep back in as you push at Eddie’s chest.

He goes down easily, toeing his boots off and lying flat on the mattress; big hands settle on your waist as you rest your weight into him, warm cunt pressing against the bulge of his clothed cock.

At a light drag of your nails against his bare chest and across his nipple, Eddie groans low, squeezing your hips and rucking into you.

“You’re all mine, Eddie, right?” 

His pupils nearly eclipsing their soft brown irises, Eddie stares up at you like you hang the moon and stars every night just for him. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘M all yours. Lemme show you.”

Eddie pulls at the backs of your legs, helping you shuffle up his body until your knees are dipping into the mattress at either side of his head. Your core hovers just above Eddie’s mouth- you can feel his breath speed up on the inside of your thigh at this new position. 

“Oh, fuck, Eddie- jesus… christ,” the last word ending in a moan as Eddie’s tongue licks a wet stripe through your folds. 

He pulls you closer with an arm over each thigh until you’re sitting on his face, his nose hitting your clit with each tilt of his head. You’ve got no idea how he’s able to breathe down there but you’re hardly able to hold onto that thought when his tongue has started plunging in and out of you.

Automatically, your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself- one hand goes to the headboard and the other ends up in his hair, gripping the roots hard. Eddie groans, sending vibrations that make your cunt clench around his lithe tongue.

“Like the taste of my pussy, baby?” you coo down at him, regaining some of your breath to give him attitude. 

Reaching a hand back to palm at his cock, you say “No one else can have you like this, hm?”

Eddie catches your eyes as he mouths wetly at your clit, then sucks it into his mouth. Your thighs shake around his ears, your orgasm unfurling in clenching ripples.

“Oh, yeah, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming- just like that, fuck fuck fuck…”

He doesn’t stop suckling at you until you’re gushing around his mouth, then pulling him off by his hair to make him stop.

Eddie heaves in a breath, kissing at the inside of your thigh, his lips and chin shiny with your release. “God, baby. Such pretty noises for me.”

“Mhm.” You shuffle down until your hips are aligned over his, then lean in to lick his mouth clean. “Gonna make some pretty ones for me, now?”

After helping pull his shirt off, Eddie whines softly as you press kisses down his bare chest, and by the time your mouth is pressing over that dark trail of hair that leads into his denim, Eddie’s begging.

“Please, angel, please- need your mouth. Do anything for it, baby, please…”

You rub your cheek against his bulge before pulling back to pop the button on his jeans, then help him shift them down and off his body. Once his black briefs join the growing pile of floor clothes, Eddie’s completely bare and at your mercy.

He gets on his elbows to watch as you mouth at the inside of his thigh, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, chest heaving when you ignore his leaking cock in favor of grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot. “Fuckin’- christ, sweetheart. Come on. Please?”

“Sound pretty when you beg,” you say, mildly, kissing across his heavy sack, hiding a smile when the contact makes him jolt. “Gonna do it some more?”

You keep eye contact as you take one of his balls into your mouth, watching his own eyes roll back so far you can see the whites of them as you use your tongue on him. 

“-yeah, baby, yeah- just like that- fucking, fuck, you’re killin’ me…”

Eddie sounds wrecked already, and a hot flush of pride courses through your body at the knowledge that he could come from just this and it’d be you getting him there. 

You mouth over to the other side of his sack, rolling the skin wiry with coarse hair against your tongue as Eddie moans above you. When your hand wraps around the base of his cock, starting to move in tandem with the pull of your mouth, Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched.

A line of drool breaks and hits wet against your chin as you straighten up, settling yourself into the V of his legs and using his thighs as handholds while you begin to kiss up the line of his leaking cock.

He’s got a gorgeous dick, truly. Thick and long, curving slightly to the right, a pretty blue vein snaking up the underside that you lathe your tongue against, seeking out the salty brine at the ruddy head.

Eddie moans, brokenly, white-knuckled hands twisting into the sheets. When your mouth closes around the tip, his elbows give out, leaving him flat against the mattress as you work his length further in.

“Oh my god. Oh, fuck, baby. Please don’t stop. Please. Y’feel so good…”

You hum around the stretch of him in your mouth, relaxing your throat to draw him in a bit more. The spiky jealousy from earlier really is your biggest motivator here; covetous, you’re thinking back to all those first times with Eddie- trembling hands under your bedsheets back in Hawkins, stilted voices and giggles to cover up the awkwardness of trying to learn the other person’s body.

No one will ever know him like you do. No one will ever have all that shared history, those fumbling nights that slowly turned to lovesick days; memories of him on his knees for you, learning all the little things that make you tick, memorizing the song of your body.

The boy is all yours. 

Your throat automatically constricts at the intrusion of Eddie’s cock slipping past your soft palate- his hips cant up, which you can hardly fault him for, patient as he’s been with your retrospective and teasing.

Before he can apologize you’re sitting up, wiping at the excess drool with the back of your hand and shucking your dress over your head, letting it and your belt fall to the floor with a soft clunk.

Eddie reaches for you again as you slide your panties down and off, and you let him help you up his body, your knees coming to rest alongside the lightly raised scar tissue at his sides. You stroke a hand down his chest, giving in to a moment of softness before seating yourself fully in Eddie’s lap.

His hands snap to your hips, a near-brutal squeeze as you sink onto his cock. The stretch is always an adjustment, but you’re so wet right now that he slides in easily, a breathy moan from the both of you as the walls of your cunt fit snug around his sizeable length.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” The crown of Eddie’s head is pressed back into the bed, veins in his taut neck on full display as your hips start to swivel, blunt nails scraping into the soft flesh of your waist. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck me.”

With your knees planted on either side of his body, you begin to bounce in steady, rhythmic earnest, going for gold, the desire to bring your boy to the babbling edge overtaking every other thought.

“Feel so good, Eds, so big… can barely fit…” There’s a wet squelch accompanying each bounce now, slick dripping down to the base of his cock, your vice of a cunt flexing with every movement.

“S’all you, baby,” Eddie rasps out, toes curling in the efforts to keep his orgasm at bay for awhile longer. “Got a perfect pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

He’s almost in delirium territory, with you chasing after that bright unwinding pleasure at both of your cores; your hips stutter, hands flat on Eddie’s chest to center yourself, a hunger that you can’t seem to satiate gnawing at the edges.

Eddie notices immediately, feels the falter in your motion and brings his hands to your forearms, rubbing a path up them soothingly- “What’s wrong, angel, hm?”

You’re not sure how to put it into words, wishing (not for the first time) that you could just rest your forehead against his and transmit all the complexities of your emotions through touch alone. 

Instead, you sigh out the name that you use when you’re done with taking, a name that lights Eddie up from head to toe as you say it- “Teddy.”

In one swift movement, Eddie slips an arm behind your back and flips you to the mattress, his hair a curtain around both your faces as he leans in to whisper against your mouth- “Teddy’s got you. Arms around me.”

You’re quick to obey, looping your arms around Eddie’s wide shoulders. He slides one hand up the back of your leg, pushing a knee up until it’s at your chest, mouth dropping open briefly when the new angle allows the head of his cock to kiss against that gummy upper wall of your cunt.

“Bored of you,” he huffs, recalling your words from earlier with disdain. “You’re talkin’ to the guy who memorized the first six chapters of The Hobbit just to recite for your bedtime.”

A quick thrust of his pelvis into yours has your stomach clenching in anticipation, brows on a tilt and knitting together as Eddie grins down at you. “Got a wicked attention span, baby. Lemme show you.”

He starts slow, agonizingly so, every inch of his thick cock dragging in and out, wetness pooling down your ass and probably the sheets, too; errant thoughts of housekeeping are rapidly erased as Eddie begins snapping his hips into yours in faster tempo.

He’s working to find that spot, the one that turns your brain to mush and is guaranteed to cause full-body muscle fatigue from the force of your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pushing into Eddie’s chest, one arm still supporting your lower back as he laughs hoarsely, half-amazement and half-pride.

“That’s the spot, huh, sweetheart? Atta girl. M’all yours. Take it. Good girl…”

With each thrust, the wiry patch of hair dusted across Eddie’s pubic bone grinds slick and filthy against your clit. You’re so close to the edge now, a wave of pleasure cresting as you look up at Eddie.

There are two thin tracks of black makeup trailing down his face from where tears have made a mess of his eyeliner; rosy spots of flushed color in his cheeks, eyes like twin pools of chocolate, locked with yours as he rocks into you. 

He’s learned the song of your body so well, knows every chord to strike- his hand leaves your leg to grasp at your breast, calloused palm against pebbled nipple sending more shockwaves through your body, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you sing for him.

“All yours,” you gasp out, and it feels like victory when his hips stutter and the cresting wave crashes around you both at the same time.

The pleasure roils through your gut, clit throbbing and cunt spasming around Eddie’s cock as he spills into you. 

A wrecked, broken string of moans leaves you as you ride out the highs together. Eddie presses his forehead to your collarbone as he chants your name, twitching out the last of his spend, warmth blooming inside. 

The quiet that follows is filled with shaking breaths, soft kisses, murmurs of “good job, sweetheart” as you both float back down to earth.

Eddie stays in you for longer than usual, his draped weight a grounding comfort as you trail gentle fingertips up and down his skin, lovingly against the scars that interrupt the smooth flesh of his back. Through the closed windows, you can hear the distant sounds of car horns and the deep boom of fireworks. 

Sometime in the last foggy hour of lovemaking, 1987 has given way to a new year. 

Eddie pulls his heavy head up from your chest to press kisses to your collarbone. “Happy new year, lover.”

You tuck his hair behind his ears, hands squishing lightly at his cheeks to bring his face close enough for a kiss. “Happy new year to you. Hell of a way to kick it off.”

Eventually, Eddie extricates himself from the intoxicating heat of your body (with minimal whining) and brings a warm washcloth to tenderly wipe away the mess between your thighs. Once you’re both cleaned up, he stretches out against the sheets, pulling the covers up as you hook a leg around his waist and snuggle in. 

“So I was thinking,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna take a trip back to Hawkins. Before the tour.”

Your hand stills in its rhythmic circles against Eddie’s chest; heart in your throat, you tilt your chin up so you can gauge Eddie’s reaction. “...yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picks up your hand on his chest, twining his fingers with your as his other hand settles on your bare hip beneath the sheets. “Could visit Wayne for a few days, fool around in that twin bed like we’re teens again.”

He grins at your giggle, taps playfully at your hip- “Gonna parade you around all our old haunts. You’ve gotten even hotter since we left, babe. Gotta really rub it in the faces of those Hawkins Tigers burnouts whose best dates are their own left hands.”

You snort, and Eddie looks pleased again, but then sobers a bit before saying- “I mean, I’ve got my piece of home with me. But I think it could be good, to visit. Just the two of us.”

You’re quiet for a moment, a longing for home that you’ve managed to ignore these past few years resurfacing. “Can we get high and go to that diner? I mean, Nell’s isn’t as good as Benny’s was, but I’ve been craving a Hawkins milkshake.”

“Christ.” Eddie hides his smile in the crook of your neck, dimples springing to life. “You could ask for the Mona Lisa and I’d find a way to get it to you. Fries and a milkshake, that all I need to keep my girl happy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a contented noise as Eddie settles against your chest again. “That’s all I need.”

___

thank u thank u for reading if you made it this far have a little kiss from me to you <3 xx lulu

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Birthday Boy

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Summary: December 10th, Joe’s 27th birthday spent with you and your twin boys.

Warnings: Fluff, *he's not injured!!*

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

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December 10th, 2023

Joe had awoken in bed by himself this morning to his surprise. He had expected you, his wife, to be waking him with smooches all over his face but your side of the bed was empty.

He rolled over to grab his phone off his nightstand when the setup sitting on it made him smile. Every year since you and Joe got together in high school when you guys were 16 and 17, on Joe’s birthday you'd get him white roses. The number of them would be the age he was turning that day. There they were, 27 white roses in a vase.

Realizing there was a card and a gift bag propped up next to it, Joe leaned up in bed and picked up the card first.

Happy Birthday, Joey!

Gosh, how are you 27?! You're getting old babe. JKJK. I just wanted to tell you that I’m so happy to share another birthday with you, this is the 11th one that we've celebrated together and I hope I've made every year better than the last. 26 was such a year for you, and I'm proud to say I was by your side for all of it. Cheers to another year of getting to show you how much I love you. You're my husband, my rock, my happiness, my high school sweetheart, and most importantly my best friend. I love you more than words can explain, Joey Shiesty.

To my nerdy, quirky, antisocial, video game, Kid Cudi-obsessed boy, Happy 27th birthday.

Love, your y/n.

Joe didn't realize tears were streaming down his cheeks till he put the card down and saw a wet spot on the blanket on his lap. He quickly composed himself and grabbed the gift bag.

Pulling the contents out of the bag, he felt his eyes well up again when he realized it was a photo album.

It was white leather and on the front in gold font, it simply read “Us.”

Joe flipped to the first page and it had a song lyric quoted.

“When they wanna see how true love should be, they'll just look at us.”

Flipping the page again, it was a collage of pictures of you and him as high school lovebirds. A picture of him picking you up after a win while you were in your cheer uniform, one of you two sitting next to each other at lunch just smiling from ear to ear, you and him sitting in the back of one of his friend's truck while at a drive-in movie, a pic of you two at senior prom, and finally one of you guys graduating.

Joe flipped the page and wasn't at all surprised to see it was the Ohio State era of his life. Since Joe was a year older than you, you were stuck in Athens still when Joe was a freshman at OSU. Long distance sucked, but you guys made it work, and multiple pictures were showcasing that. You took screenshots of you and Joe's face timing that he had never seen before. There was a lovesick look in his eye that made Joe giggle knowing he's still just as infatuated with you. His favorite picture was the one of him lying on top of you in his dorm bed, you were running your fingers through his mullet as you cuddled him.

The LSU page made Joe’s heart warm, so many pictures of you standing to the side and smiling at him just so proud of everything he had accomplished during his time there. There was one slightly spicy photo that made Joe do a double take. That was the first photo you had ever sent him with the intention of turning him on. While Joe was out doing something with the team after winning the national championship you put nothing on but his letterman jacket and the “Big Dick Joe” that he had.

The next few pages only made Joe smile get bigger.

In order it was him getting drafted, the 2022 AFC Championship win + engagement, the wedding, finding out I was pregnant, the gender reveal, the boy's arrival, and everything in between.

When the last few pages were empty for more memories Joe shut the book and put it off to the side. He again had to compose himself and wipe his eyes after the emotional walk through memory lane, you guys had been through so much together and Joe couldn't a picture his life without you.

Joe was about to text you but as soon as he went to grab his phone you were walking into the bedroom. Truthfully you had been downstairs listening to him secretly through the baby monitor you had put up in the bedroom. You had heard him wrestle around in the sheets before sniffles were heard. After it went quiet for a bit you went upstairs and watched him through the cracked bedroom door as he wiped his eyes.

You walked towards the bed with a stack of pumpkin-flavored pancakes topped with candles singing Happy Birthday as Joe wore a huge grin.

After you were finished singing, Joe blew out the candles and you placed the plate on his lap.

“G’morning, Joey. Happy Birthday, my love. - you

He pulled you into a hug and squeezed you so tight.

“I love you so much, y/n.” - Joe

You rubbed his back and kissed him after you pulled away, his arms still around your waist.

“What did you wish for when you blew out your candles?” - you

“Can't tell you, you know it wouldn't come true if I did.” - Joe

“You're no fun.” - you

“I'm just kidding, baby. I actually didn't make a wish.” - joe

“What why? Did I not give you enough time to? I'm sor-” - you

“No. You gave me plenty of time. I just don't have anything to wish for. I have everything I could ever want or need so there's no need for me to wish for something. I have a beautiful amazing wife, perfect twin boys, a good career…” - Joe

You stared at him dumbfounded, wondering how you were ever able to bag this sweet man.

“You’re gonna make me cry.” - you sniffled

“C’mere.” - Joe opened his arms to you

Immediately in his embrace, Joe held the back of your head and kissed your temple.

“I've already cried twice.” - Joe giggled

“Awe Joey. Okay enough sappy stuff, you eat your birthday breakfast while I go clean the kitchen up.” - you pulled away from him and headed for the door when he stopped you

“Wait don't go! I'll help you clean later, can you stay with me right now?” - Joe

You smiled sweetly at him before waking back over to the bed and getting under the covers with him.

Joe turned on Spongebob and ate his pancakes, a few minutes in you heard little feet in the hallway before knocks on the door could be heard.

“Mommy? Daddy?” - Tyson

“You can come in, Ty!” - Joe

The twins happily opened the door and toddled over to the bed. You lifted them onto the bed and they sat with their backs against the footboard.

Tyson giggled as he jokingly got his hand under the covers and tickled Joe’s foot. Joe played along with it for a little bit, loving the sound of his son’s laugh before he started fighting back.

“Do you boys remember what today is?” - you

“Uhm… no momma.” - Miles

“It's someone's birthday!” - you

Tyson and Miles looked at each other for a second before they gasped at the same time and yelled out the answer in unison.

“Daddy’s!” - The twins yelled

“Mhm! Remember what you guys made yesterday?” - you

The boys nodded and you instructed them to go retrieve what they made from their room.

Joe gave you a skeptical raised eyebrow look, but you just leaned in and kissed him while you still had the chance.

It wasn't long till you could hear those little feet again and Tyson and Miles were running back into the bedroom. They handed Joe a few pieces of paper after he put his empty plate on his nightstand.

Tyson drew a picture of him, his daddy, and his uncles passing football at the practice fields.

Miles drew a picture of him and Joe playing with Hot Wheels tracks.

The drawings had Joe feeling a different form of bliss, his heart warmed to an insane level as he looked at the little details in his boys’ drawings.

“I love them, boys. Thank you.” - Joe croaked

“You welcome!” - Tyson beamed

“Dada? You sad?” - Miles

“No, Daddy’s really happy.” - Joe

“But you cryin'…” - Miles

“He’s crying happy tears buddy, really happy tears.” - Joe

“Oh… okay!” - Miles

“You guys should go play. Mommy and Daddy are gonna clean up before Gramps and Grammy come.” - you

When the boys left the room you turned to Joe who was still crying. You softly kissed his cheek and wiped his tears off of his cheeks.

“You okay, baby?” - you

“Never been better. This is the best feeling.” - Joe

“Good. They worked hard on those. Come follow me downstairs. I have something cool to show you.” - you

“You gonna give me my 27 birthday spankings? Or is that later?” - joe

You laughed as you pulled him out of bed and shoved him into the closet, asking without words for him to put clothes on since he was only in boxers.

He returned in sweatpants and a T-shirt and followed you downstairs.

“Is the cool thing you have to show me a sink full of dishes? Or do I have to unload the dishwasher?” - Joe

“You’re exempt from those chores today since you are the birthday boy. But no, I’m giving you one of your gifts now.” - you

Joe smiled and I told him to close his eyes as we started walking into the kitchen. He did as you said and you took his hands in yours to guide him to where the setup on the counter was. You smiled at the secret camera you had recording and dropped Joe’s hands.

Telling him to open his eyes, Joe looked around rather confused but when he looked down at the counter his eyes went as wide as saucers.

There was a positive Clearblue test next to the same onesie you showed Joe when you found out you were pregnant with the twins.

You watched Joe’s eyes start to water as his chin started quivering, causing your own eyes to get misty as you smiled at him.

“You’re pregnant?” - Joe grinned

“Mhm.” - you smiled as tears dripped down your face

Immediately his arms were around you, lifting you and spinning you around as he cried into your neck.

“We’re having another baby!” - Joe cried

When he put you down, Joe picked up the pregnancy test with shaky hands and fell against the counter with his head buried in his arms. He was so overcome with emotion.

“Are you happy?” - you rubbed his back

Joe stood up abruptly and nodded vigorously.

“I've never been so happy. What if we have a girl, y/n? I could be a girl dad.” - Joe cried again

“Oh baby.” - you pulled him into your arms

Joe hugged you so tight but was now trying not to put pressure on your stomach now that he was aware his baby was in there.

“I love you so much, y/n. You and our family are the best things to have ever happened to me. I can't believe we're having another baby.” - Joe

“I love you and our babies so much. I can't believe it either, I'm so excited.” - you

“How long have you known? Well about the baby?” - Joe

“Not too long, found out a couple of days ago and thought I'd wait till today.” - you

Joe nodded and leaned down to be level with your stomach. It hasn't gotten bigger yet but Joe didn't care, his baby was still in there.

“Hey, baby. It's your daddy. Me and your momma already love you so much. We can't wait to meet you.” - Joe

“I have an ultrasound next week. Think you can go?” - you

“For sure. I'll make it happen.” - Joe

The rest of the day Joe couldn't keep his hands off of you, always making sure you weren't farther than arm's length away from him.

Robin asked what was up later at dinner when you rejected your usual favorite wine that she and Jimmy had brought.

You and Joe were ecstatic to tell his parents about Baby Burrow #3 coming next fall and they were just as happy finding out about their next grandkid.

That night after dinner, dessert (pumpkin pie of course), and putting the boys to sleep, Joe and I were lying in bed talking about everything baby.

“y/n, you know, I've only been 27 for a day but I feel like it's going to be the best year yet.” - Joe

“You think so?” - you

“I know so because I’m gonna spend it with you, our boys, and baby Burrow.” - Joe

You had a strange feeling that Joe was right, but also an overwhelming feeling of love washed over you. How'd you get so lucky with Joe?

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Authors note: happy bday Joey B!

there was a birthday imagine request in my messages so here you go!

hope you enjoyed! 💕

[animesimp-writes]

YO, YO, YO! (Billy referred.) Hope your having a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening/night Mel! Could you write a Luffy x fem! Reader fic? Like They're making jokes on the deck of the thousand sunny while the rest of the crew is asleep, and Luffy calls Y/N pretty and stuff, and then confesses, saying that Robin and Nami told him he was in love with her after describing how he felt about Y/N?

If you don't want to write it, thats okay (bc I dont know if you write for other fandoms) but stay safe and stay hydrated! :)

-Anon <3

# Summary ; Late one night aboard the Thousand Sunny, Y/N and Luffy find themselves alone, sharing jokes and laughter under the stars. As the conversation takes a sincere turn, Luffy surprises Y/N by telling her she's pretty and confessing that Nami and Robin pointed out he might be in love with her. Realizing his feelings are true, Y/N admits she feels the same, if not more. Before she can fully express herself, Luffy kisses her, sealing their mutual affection with a sweet and tender moment.

# Notes ; Heyy!! I LOVE One Piece, its my favorite anime for years <3 It's my first time writing a fic instead of headcanons ON TUNBLR so I'll do my best :D Also, yes, I am writing for other fandoms, so please don't be shy to request. And sorry for being away for so long, I just needed some time for school and I honestly forgot about this account and had to study since I'm going to high school in a few months. Wish me luck!!

Late at night, the Thousand Sunny drifted peacefully under a blanket of stars. The gentle rocking of the ship kept the Straw Hat Pirates lulled in a deep sleep. Everyone, that is, except for Luffy and you.

You were sitting next to him on the deck, the night air cool against your skin. The only sounds around were the occasional creaks of the ship and the soft lapping of the ocean against the hull.

"Y/N, you know, I think I could eat a thousand meat skewers in one sitting!" Luffy said with a wide grin, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "Luffy, I believe you could do it. But how would you even fit that much food in your stomach?"

He laughed, the sound warm and carefree, and you couldn't help but laugh along with him. The way he made everything seem so simple and joyful was one of the many things you loved about him. For what seemed like hours, the two of you exchanged jokes, stories, and silly banter. Luffy was on a roll, saying the most random things to keep you laughing. But as you waited for him to crack another joke, his expression softened. His gaze settled on you, and the intensity in his eyes caught you off guard.

"You're really pretty, Y/N," Luffy said suddenly, his voice quiet, but sincere.

You blinked, a little taken aback by the shift in tone. "W-What?" you stammered, feeling your cheeks warm as you processed his words. "Why would you say that all of a sudden?"Luffy rubbed the back of his neck, his usual confident demeanor now tinged with something more thoughtful. "Well, Nami and Robin were talking to me the other day. They said that when I described how I feel about you, it means I’m in love with you. And I think they’re right… 'cause I’m always thinking about you, and I like being around you more than anyone else."

Your heart skipped a beat. Hearing those words from Luffy, who was always so focused on his adventures and dreams, made your chest tighten with happiness. You glanced down at your hands, fidgeting nervously, trying to find the right words to tell him that you felt the same way. "Luffy, I… I feel the same," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe even more than you could imagine..."

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt a gentle touch on your chin. Luffy had leaned in closer, lifting your head with his hand. Your eyes met his, and in that moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. Without another word, Luffy closed the distance between you, pressing his lips softly against yours. The kiss was simple, sweet, and filled with all the emotions you both had been holding back. Your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into the kiss, your heart racing in your chest.

When he finally pulled away, Luffy's smile was the brightest you'd ever seen. "I think I like kissing you too," he said with a chuckle.

You giggled, your cheeks flushed, feeling a mixture of joy and relief. "Me too, Luffy… me too."

GAHHH!! I loved it so much, hope you guys do to! If you want more like this, drop a request in my "Ask Me Anything" hope you guys have a wonderful rest of your day, bye! <3

[smaptain-smerica]

Thank you for the suggestion!

abaker74 I always love when Jake or Bradley Meet then date a single mom. Being a single mom myself that's on brand for me 🤣🤣

Summary: Bradley introduces jake to his high school best friend and her child. Basically Jake likes Milfs. Fluffy content.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female!Reader (Single mother reader)

Masterlist

Roses and Thorns - Part I

(Previously called “Pool Table”)

It had been a long day of training for the pilots at Top Gun. Jake "Hangman" Seresin had given them a run for their money after becoming an instructor. He would be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy making the pilots suffer.

He was now enjoying an ice cold tap beer with his fellow instructor and friend, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw. The two of them shared notes over the pilots they were training. Bradley kept annoyingly texting on his phone the entire time, smiling every now and then.

Finally, he had gotten a phone call that he seemed to be anxious about getting and he ran out of the Hard Deck. Jake rolled his eyes at his friend, finally relieved to be free from his suffocating phone use.

Jake looked around the Hard Deck, listening to the sounds of classic rock playing on the jukebox mixed with the hum of different voices having different conversations.

Jake felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down at a little girl. Large doey eyes and h/c hair put up in two curly pigtails with pink bows wrapped around them. She had on a little sweater with strawberries on it. "Daddy?"

The question caught him off guard, nearly spitting out his drink. He felt his heart drop to his stomach and panic began to settle in. "I- um-"

Laughter came from a few feet away. He looked over in the direction of it and saw that Bradley was doubled over in laughter with his hand on a woman’s shoulder, who was also laughing. The two made their way over to the table and sat down. The small girl ran back to the woman and jumped in her lap, giggling like a maniac. I assumed now that this woman was her mother.

“Oh man your face was priceless.” Bradley said while wiping a tear from his eyes.

Jake grumbled, rolling his eyes and bringing his beer to his lips. His attention turned to the woman with the same colored hair as the little girl. He watched the way her face moved when she laughed, the lingering smile on her face made his heart skip a beat.

“Jake, this is my long time friend from high school, y/n.” Bradley introduced them. Y/n reached her hand over the table to shake, a kind smile on her face. “It’s nice to meet you.” She charmed.

Jake grabbed her hand and shook it. Her hands were soft and delicate but she had a strong grip.

“Jake Seresin.” He returned the introduction to her. He then pointed to the little girl in her lap. “Who’s the troublemaker?” He asked.

Y/n smiled and grabbed the little girls hands in her own. “This is my daughter, Rose.”

“Momma I want French fries!” Rose exclaimed excitedly upon seeing someone walk out of the nearby kitchen door with a basket of them.

Jake smiled at the way the small girls face lit up. He’d never admit it to anyone, but Jake loved kids. He had always imagined himself having as many boys as possibly. Someone he could roughhouse with and throw a football on the beach. Maybe they would even take after him and join the military. The thought of having girls scared him. Maybe it was because he didn’t know how to take care of one, or maybe because he wouldn’t know what to do if she brought a boy home. Boys would be easier, more low maintenance.

“I’ll get you some French fries baby.” Y/n said nonchalantly as she pet the little girls head.

Rose pounded her little fists on the table, making the liquid in our drinks vibrate slightly. “French fries! French fries! French fries!” She chanted like a battle cry. Jake chuckled and shook his head.

“Alright I’m going!” Y/n gave in, throwing her hands up in surrender. “Here, go to uncle Brad.” Y/n handed the child over to Bradley. She now sat in his lap and giggled menacingly.

“You are very right she’s a troublemaker.” Bradley commented and took a drink from his cup.

“So you and y/n were friends in high school?” Jake asked, attempting to learn more about this woman he never heard of before.

Bradley nodded. “Since freshman year. We had PE together. Beat the shit out of me with dodgeballs every day for four years. We’ve stayed close ever since.” Bradley reminisced on the memory of the past. I looked over at her as she leaned against the bar, talking with Penny. She was unbelievably sexy. Just her posture and the way she carried herself and talked in the conversation from afar. Who wouldn’t be attracted to that?

“Is it safe to assume that’s not your kid?” Jake asked, wanting to poke some fun at Bradley. Bradley laughed, shaking his head. “Oh no. I don’t know where Rosie’s father is at. Y/n doesn’t really talk about it.”

For some reason, knowing she was single heightened the attraction that he felt. He hated to say it, because it made him sound kind of misogynistic, but Jake loved seeing women with kids as much as he loved kids. There was nothing he loved more than watching someone play pretend and cater to someone’s needs. Jake watched her walk back over to the table with a cocktail in one hand and a basket of French fries in the other. Y/n slid them down onto the table and plopped down into her chair. “Boom! French fries.”

Rose used her little fingers to make a grabbing motion towards the basket of fries that Bradley grabbed and slid them closer to the little girl.

“So, Bradshaw tells me you’re a pilot as well.” Y/n began to strike up conversation with Jake, taking a French fry from the basket and popping it into her mouth. She looked at him with an innocent interest.

The three and a half people made pleasant conversation as the night went on. Rose had only eaten about 5 of the French fries that she had demanded she receive so the three adults finished them off. It was 9:30 now and Rose was passed out in y/n’s arms, her head resting on her chest with her mouth wide open.

“I better get going so I can put her to bed.” Y/n said as she slowly stood up from her chair. She struggled to reach down on the ground to grab one of her bags. Jake jumped up to grab it off the ground for her.

“I can get it.” He insisted. Y/n looked at him with a warm smile spreading across her face. “Thank you.”

Jake looked back at Bradley as y/n made her way to the door. Bradley winked and raised his glass to Jake. He had turned around and quickened his pace to catch up. He jogged to the car to get there first and he opened the door for y/n while she strapped Rose into her car seat.

Once she was in the seat she walked around to the driver side door and took her bag from Jakes hands. “Thank you for the help, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, any time.” Jake smiled, sticking his hands into his pockets. Y/n nodded to him, saying her goodbyes before driving off.

It was rounding 6 o’clock when Jake decided to take a run on the beach. He had run a couple miles when he came up on the beach that butted up with the back of the Hard Deck. He noticed an umbrella with two silhouettes sitting underneath it. The closer he got the clearer the two became. It was y/n and Rose.

He approached the two, stopping in front of them. Y/n looked up, blocking the sun from her eyes, even though she was wearing sunglasses, and then smiled. “Hey Jake.”

“Hi.” He smiled. Jake facepalmed himself. That was all he was able to choke out? Hi? How mortifying.

“What are you doing out here?” She asked. To the right of y/n, Rose was digging sand up from the beach and putting it into a bucket.

“Just out for a run.” He shrugged plainly.

“I see.” If she hadn’t been wearing sunglasses, Jake would have sworn that she looked him up and down, suddenly making him feel bashful. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt that way.

Jake felt a tug on his right hand. He looked down at Rose who was trying to pull him in the direction of the little mound of sand towers that she was building. “Come on.” She encouraged.

“Rosie sweetheart, Jake is busy he can’t play right now.” Y/n, took her daughters hand out of jakes. Of course, that was the one sentence a parent could say that could make even a child hating person feel guilty.

“He can’t play?” Rosie frowned, looking back and forth between the two adults.

“No no no, I can play.” Jake said quickly, afraid of upsetting the pouting girl. He sat down on the sand next to y/n under the umbrella.

“You don’t have to,” y/n reassured him, pulling her sunglasses up off her face and into her hair.

“I want to.” Jake smiled at her, holding eye contact for a little longer than normal.

Jake was drawn away from admiring the woman’s features as he was handed a small Pail and shovel. “Can you fill this with sand please?” Rose asked. How could anybody say no to those big blue eyes?

Eventually a small sand castle was built in front of where their set up was on the beach. Rose stepped back to admire her work. Her face then lit up with an idea. “I gotta get water for my Algators.”

Jake chuckled at her mispronunciation of the word alligator and watched as she took off running toward the water with her Pail in hand. “She’s adorable.” Jake hummed.

Y/n chuckled and nodded her hand. “She is the light in my life. Always keeps me on my toes.”

“I bet you guys always have your hands full.” Jake chuckled. He wanted to see if y/n would talk more about what Bradley said about her father being absent.

Y/n waved her hand dismissively and blew air through her mouth. “My hands are always full. Dead beat father didn’t want to stick around.”

Jake frowned. He already knew the answer to her question before he asked it, but hearing the venom dripping from her voice as she said it really stung his heart. “I’m so sorry.” He took the opportunity to place a hand on her shoulder. He felt her soft skin underneath his course hand and felt a fire ignite his chest. She looked over at him and gave him a gentle smile.

“Thank you. It really isn’t that big of a deal though, it was a long time ago.”

“What happened if you don’t mind me asking.” Jake asked.

Y/n sucked her teeth in thought before continuing on with her story. “We wanted different things. I wanted to have a baby and stay close to my mom, and he didn’t want a baby and to go to New York to peruse his acting career. So we compromised and I got full custody and he’s doing compression sock commercials.”

Jake couldn’t help but break out in laughter at the way she described it. It really did seem like a thing of the past to her. Or maybe, she covered up her pain with humor.

“How long ago was that?”

“Little over 5 years ago. it's just been me and her ever since."

Jake nodded in understanding of what she was saying. “Well, for what it’s worth you’ve done great.”

“It’s too heavy!” A small voice called from the distance. Jake looked off towards the ocean to see Rose struggling to carry the water filled bucket back to their spot on the beach.

“I’m coming!” Jake quickly got up from his spot on the sand and went up to rose. He took the bucket from her and grabbed her hand to help her walk back up the beach. Jake poured the water into the small hole she dug.

“There, a finished castle.”

Rose giggled and smiled. “I’ll be the princess and you be the knight.” She suggested. Jake chuckled and nodded to her.

“Yes your majesty.” He brought his hand up and saluted to her. Then Jake got an idea. He gave y/n a mischievous look that caused her face to turn up in confusion.

“If I’m a knight, that means I have to protect the princess from the evil queen.” Jake looked back over at y/n and gave her a wink. A wide smile spread on her face and she slowly shifted her weight around and crouched over on her feet.

“I’ll get you my pretty.” She twisted her voice to a creepy witch-like tone, causing Rose to giggle in anticipation.

“Go we have to go!” She encouraged Jake. Jake wrapped his arms around Rose and picked her up off the ground.

“I’ll save you princess!” He announced. Jake took off at a jog down the beach with y/n on his tail. Rose gripped onto jakes arms and let out many screaming giggles. The sound made Jake happy, the shrill of happy little kid screams made him want to do everything to keep this little girl happy.

He had looped around and made his way back around to the umbrella. He quickly set Rose down in the shade and then stood up to face y/n who was barreling towards him.

“I’ve got this, princess. Stop evil queen!” Jake commanded. Y/n showed no signs of stopping. In fact, she didn’t. She got right up to Jake and then ducked her shoulder down into his abdomen. Taken back by the sudden tackle and the strength at which she laid him out.

Jakes back hit the ground, y/n following shortly after and landing on top of him. In the tackle he had wrapped his arms around her to prevent her from rolling away. He felt the soft skin of her back against his hands as their skin was pressed together. He couldn’t help but feel the attraction simmering in his stomach as he looked up at her, a wide smile spread across her face as she laughed.

“Get off my knight!” Rose was near them now, pounding her little fists into y/n’s back in an attempt to get her mother off of Jake. Y/n rolled over and grabbed rose, wrapping her up tightly in her arms before plopping back down in the sand next to Jake.

“I’ve got her Jake! Tickle her!”

Jake laughed and reached his arms over and ticked her sides. Rose squealed and thrashed around, laughs erupting from within her. “Stop stop!” She said in between her laughs.

Jake brought his hands back and propped his head up on his hand. He looked over at the mother and daughter duo. Y/n had her arms wrapped around Rose, planting kisses on her cheek. Jake felt something warm in his heart. Admiration, affection, adoration, all the mushy feelings he had ever felt all at once. Rose changed his view on girls. He wanted to have 5 girls if they all turned out like this one. In turn, he wanted to know more about the spectacular woman in front of him. He knew he would do anything to protect them both.

“Forgive me if this is too forward-“ Jake began to talk before he was cut off by y/n.

“It’s too forward. I can’t forgive you now.” They both chuckled at her sarcastic response. Jakes face then fell to a more serious expression.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" Y/n's expression durned up in surprise. It took her a minute to think about an answer which caused Jakes heart to begin to race. It was too forward. He hadn't even asked her if she had a boyfriend, or anybody she was seeing.

"Yes, actually." At her response, Jake felt his heart return to it's chest. Relief flooded over him.

"Hard Deck at 7 tomorrow?" He asked.

"I'll be there."

“You met her two days ago and already asked her on a date?” Bradley exclaimed over the phone.

Jake smiled with the phone up to his ear. He was already at the Hard Deck when Bradley had called. Apparently y/n had asked Bradley to babysit for her while she went out with his friend.

“The heart wants what the heart wants Brad.”

“This is hardly your heart talking.” Bradley retorted sassily.

“I’ll have you know,” Jake jumped to his own defense. “I hung out with her and Rose on the beach yesterday-”

“And you fell in love with Rosie’s intoxicating giggle?” Bradley chuckled.

Jake felt the heat rise to his face. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was absolutely true. It was an addiction, something that Jake could listen to for the rest of his life. Which, is part of why he asked y/n out.

“Shut up, Bradshaw.” Jake growled, hanging up the phone before Bradley had a chance to clap back. As though it were scripted, Y/n walked through the door and glanced around. Jake stood up and walked to the door to meet her. Y/n saw him, smiling as they met halfway.

Y/n was wearing a deep blue dress that stopped in the middle of her shins. She had on a pair of white sandals and a golden chain around her ankle. Traveling back up to her face, spaghetti straps across her strong shoulders and a plunging v neck where a necklace with a pink pendant played across the top of her breasts. Leaving just enough to the imagination.

“Wow. You look beautiful.” Jake raved upon approaching her. Y/n smiled and held her arms out, embracing Jake. He reciprocated the hug, putting his hands gently on her lower back.

“Thank you! You don’t look so bad yourself.” Y/n took a moment to look Jake up and down. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a red shirt on top.

Jake directed them to the bar, opening the tab and buying them both drinks to start with. He then directed her attention a few tables away from the central bar.

“Now, since this is a bar I wasn’t able to reserve a table. But, I have reserved the pool table.” He spread his hands out wide in a presenting way as they approached the pool table. Y/n smiled and laughed.

“I think we can manage with that.” Y/n grabbed two sticks and then turned around, reaching one over to Jake. “Are you breaking or am I?” She asked.

For some odd reason, Jake had never been that attracted to someone.

“Ladies first, obviously.”

Y/n smirked slightly, placing the que ball down and bending over at the waist to line up her shot. The way that her necklace dangled in front of her now more exposed chest was next to impossible to ignore. His eyes wandered to there, hardly listening to the words that left her mouth.

“You know, I know exactly why you asked me on a date.” Her eyes wandered from looking up at Jake to at the pool table, drawing back her stick and breaking the stack. Unfortunately, no balls went into any pockets.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Jake asked, looking around the table for the easiest shot to start.

“You like hot moms.”

Jake was mid shot when y/n said that, causing him to completely miss the ball in front of him. He looked up at y/n who was propped against the pool stick, laughing at his misfortune.

“Now that’s not true-“

“You don’t think I’m hot?” Y/n interrupted him with a pout.

“No, you’re very hot.” Jake huffed with a shy giggle.

Y/n smirked a little, walking around the table to observe potential shots. She found one right beside where Jake stood, bending at the waist and took a shot, sinking a striped ball into a socket. “And I’m a mom. Therefore, you like hot moms.”

For the first time a woman had left Jake speechless. He rubbed the back of his neck and feeling the intense heat rise to his face. Y/n seemed to notice when she looked up at him. She put a hand on his strong chest, gently pushing him backwards slightly so she could slip between him and the pool table.

“Relax Seresin, I’m pulling your leg.”

Jake had felt a tingling sensation running over his whole body. Like fire ants were crawling in his veins. He watched her take another shot at a pool ball and missed.

“So, do you want kids?” Y/n asked, taking a step back to allow him room to move.

Jake chuckled and looked around the table for his next shot. “Straight to the deep questions, huh?”

“Well I’ve got a kid who’s not going anywhere. Just want to make sure you’re not some secret child hater.”

Jake chuckled and shook his head. “Yes, I want kids.”

“How many?”

Jake huffed out. “As many as my partner would let me.” He admitted.

Y/n nodded in understanding. “Let me guess, boys?”

Jake missed his third shot before standing up straight to look over at y/n. He smiled at her and nodded. “Yeah.”

“I figured as much.” Y/n hummed with a chuckle. “It’s the typical male answer.”

Jake put his hands up in defense. “Forgive me if girls are intimidating.”

“So you think my little Rosie is intimidating?”

“Well no-“

“Don’t worry. The more time you spend around her the more girls you want.”

Jake smirked a little, watching y/n take her next shot. “Will I be spending more time around her?” He asked hopefully.

Y/n looked up at him from her spot bent over lining up her pool shot. A small smile curled up on her perfectly plump lips. “There’s a good chance.”

Jake smiled. His heart warmed the more he talked to y/n about just the smallest things. He couldn’t remember the last time he talked to someone for this long about mundane things. He enjoyed every second of it.

Much to his distaste, the night eventually had to come to a close. Jake walked y/n out to her car, the two of them laughing about a joke that was told earlier.

“Thank you for tonight Jake, I had a great time.” Y/n leaned against the back seat of her car while Jake stood by the drivers door.

“I had a great time too.” Jake hummed. He held out his hand and gestured with his eyes for y/n to take it. Y/n smiled, placing her hand on top of Jakes. He brought it up to his lips and gave her a kiss on the knuckles while simultaneously opening the driver side door for her.

“So when is our second date?” He asked. Y/n stepped up into position to get into her car. The only thing between her and Jake was the car door. She stopped for a moment, seeming to think. Y/n shifted her weight to her toes, stretching up and placing a kiss on Jakes lips. She lingered there for a couple seconds. Before going back down on her flat feet.

“I’ll call you.” She said sweetly. Y/n got into her car and closed the door, rolling down the window. Jake was so caught up in the intoxicating kiss that he forgot one critical detail.

“I never gave you my number.”

Y/n put a pair of sunglasses on her head and poked her head out of her driver window. She smiled wildly up at him. “I know.”

Just like that, she drove off. Leaving Jake smiling like an idiot in the parking lot.

Next Part

[msbigredmachine]

WIP Wednesday - You Again (Roman Reigns/OC)

A/N: Thanks to @empressdede for the tag! I appreciate it! I know it's Thursday not Wednesday lol, sorry I'm late!

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

His familiar scent reached her nose, triggering memories of the years he had tortured her in school. Fuck, he still smelled the same. She stiffened at the reminder, fighting her body's response to his closeness. She had very little room to move seated the way she was, but she tried to put a few inches between their bodies.

His hard chest. His big hands encircling her upper arms, holding her in place, trapping her against his body.

Her breath caught, torn between crying out for help and giving in to the heavy arousal that flooded her body. 

She felt his mouth close to her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Evie," he breathed. Joe's low, raspy voice uttering her name set off flutters throughout her tummy and heat spread throughout her body. Her skin broke out into goosebumps and her nipples hardened into sharp little points. Despite her body's involuntary response, she held herself rigidly, staring straight ahead, giving no indication she'd heard anything.

Joe chuckled softly at her refusal to look at or acknowledge him. His warm breath tickled her ear and her hardened nipples chafed against the lace of her bra almost painfully. "I thought I was imagining things," he said in that velvety soft tone. "But no. I'd know that beautiful face anywhere.”

“Oh look, here comes the leader of N’Stink.” She rolled her eyes.

“Leader of what?” he laughed. She didn't see what was so funny.

“That was my name for you and the evil twins. Jon and Josh.”

“Who knew little Evie Ashton was so creative.”

“I’m not ‘Evie’ anymore. I go by Evelyn now. This ain’t high school anymore.” She dared to look up at him this time, and hated that he was as gorgeous as ever, and was still able to effortlessly awaken her body with just one look, just his proximity. It reminded her how, as a teen, she had been so confused and embarrassed by the way she simultaneously loathed him and desired him. She sucked in a breath as his lower body now flush against her. She let out a small gasp as she became aware of a sizable hardness prodding into her ass. His mouth was by her ear again. 

"This is the other reason I knew it was you." He rocked into her, letting her feel the length of his impressive erection. "All you had to do was come near me and you had me so hard I wanted to beg you just for a taste of your sweet pussy."

What? 

She did turn around this time, eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”

“You have no damn idea how much I wanted you, Evie.”

“You’re fuckin lying.”

He shook his head. “I'm not. You feel that, don’t you?”

She clenched her thighs together, feeling a rush of warmth between her legs at his words. She opened her mouth to tell him to get the fuck away from her, but all that came out was a whimper.

His hands moved from where they held her arms in place down to her hips. She glanced down, seeing his strong, tanned hands grasping her. Lust coursed through her, drugging her into docility. The same thing kept happening back in high school - even when she was furious at him, he'd affected her so strongly on a physical level that she felt almost drunk when she was around him. What was worse, he was the first and only boy who had turned her on like that without even lifting a finger. Not even Chuka, her fiancé, ever set her body on fire like this, despite his impressive attempts.

As a teenager, she would imagine, at night, alone in her bed, herself with Joe, what it might feel like, the heights he might take her to, if he actually tried to bed her…

Her fantasies didn't even come close to the electricity his touch sent jolting through her body.

She held herself still, barely managing to breathe, as his bulge seared into her bottom. She was flushed from head to toe, and as she squeezed her thighs together to relieve the ache there, she could feel herself gushing into her panties. Mindlessly, she pressed back into him just the smallest bit.

In response, his hands moved around to cup her ass, gently spreading her cheeks so he could nestle his iron-hard cock between them. She tried to remember that she hated this man, that he'd made her life miserable for three years, and she never even knew why. But her body had taken over, her aroused state freezing her in place.

Encouraged by her complacency, Joe ground into her, his steel length feeling like it was branding her through her short dress. She panted, air coming in short bursts, as she pressed back into his groin…

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This is not finished at all and just a little excerpt, I hope you like it! I will be posting a brand new Roman one-shot real soon so look out for that.

As usual, tagging everyone else: @jxtina-86 @wrestlingprincess80 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @harmshake @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @shonny09 @lizzyd1ish @gomussy @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya

[melancholicbutterflies]

You Don’t Own Me

Summary: You’re tired of Elvis always telling you what you can and cannot do as his wife. You decide to pushback. He puts you in your place.

Warnings: underage, smut, dubious consent, bdsm themes (dd/lg), cursing, yandere!Elvis themes, breeding kink, 18+ (cannot stress this enough!) 

Word Count: 4,046

It was a decision you would come to regret, but you were young and naive, and dreaming of a better life. 

You met him at your high school. Elvis, up and coming rock ‘n roll sensation, had just returned from two years in the service and had successfully reformed his bad boy image in the eyes of parents everywhere. As such, he was permitted in venues since objected to (and the ones of teenage girls’ wet dreams). 

Elvis the Pelvis was coming to your school, and students and teachers alike were all abuzz. Growing up in a very Christian family, you weren’t allowed to watch his performances, and knew only what you heard from friends of less strict upbringings, and the odd radio programming when you snuck into the teacher’s lounge. 

Nothing could prepare you for what he looked like up close. Thick, dark hair that was somewhat cartoonish framed a devilishly handsome, tanned face with high cheekbones, sultry eyes, and a snarling smile that beckoned you. And he was tall, taller than any of the boys in class (although they were much younger, you had to concede). Still, he looked dapper in his suit, his well-loved acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder, devil hips cocked to one side. 

He was a stunner, all right, and you were as good as gone. 

You watched as he gave each and every person his undivided attention, all smiles and bashful head ducks. You wouldn’t have pegged him for humble, couldn’t imagine him being so with the amount of talent and charm and good looks he’d been endowed with, but he surpassed your every expectation. He was here to teach some scripture, and at some point he wove in some music, too. His voice was like a siren’s, no business singing such innocently devout lyrics. 

At the end everyone clapped, and he went to signing autographs; the line took up the whole classroom and wrapped around the hallway as other students from classes that broke out joined in. 

When it was your turn, he started, “who should I make it out to?” Pen poised, eyes tired as he lifted them to look at you with a waning smile, and he stopped. Nearly dropped the pad of paper then and there as he stared at you. You stared back, entranced, and found you were the first to break eye contact. “Well, it’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N, huh” he snapped out of his reverie, eyes alight with... something, as he licked his lips. “What a pretty name for a pretty gal,” he scribbled something on the pad of paper, barely legible, but finished with a heart. His next words you couldn’t predict in your most wondrous of fantasies: 

“Say, you wouldn’t wanna grab a burger and shake with me one o’ these days, would ya? Or am I gettin’ ahead of myself?” 

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, in shock. He laughed, hair flopping as his head tossed back. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

You nodded vigorously, finally finding your words, albeit breathily. “Yes!” 

“It’s a date,” he said lowly, gaze now stuck on your lips. 

It was nothing short of sweet. You avoided your coworkers interested looks as you sat down with Elvis, who’d held your purse as you slid in the booth opposite. You were hungry and he vocalized he liked a girl who ate and set down a tip that was more than you made in a shift. Ice cream followed, a nice walk in the park, and he drove you home, politely not commenting on the sort of neighborhood you lived in. “I had a nice time,” he said in the low light of the fading sun, leaning in real close. “I did, too.” You said it as you looked down in your lap until he picked your chin up, forcing your gaze to his. You thought he looked sinful for someone so religious. 

“Good, because I really wanna kiss you, Y/N.”

You stopped him with a hand at his clavicle. “I can’t.” Looking backward, he saw a figure by the window, felt your sudden nervousness. It was about more than just want, and thankfully he understood. “Sure, baby, I get it. You’re unspoiled, aren’t you?” His eyes implored you. 

Reticently, you nodded, not fully understanding his meaning but knowing enough. 

It should have concerned you how happy he looked at that. 

Pretty soon he showed up everywhere. At the local diner, your ballet lessons, even one late night you were out walking your dog, Marnie. You could have sworn you saw a car at the end of the street, eyes watching under darkness. It was unnerving, it was exciting; you hadn’t experienced the weight of someone’s entire attention on you before now.

If you were less naive, you might have questioned why a grown man who had plenty else to do was expending so much effort getting to know you. It all became clear one day when he took you out to dinner, not just at any restaurant, but the fanciest one in town, followed by a romantic moon-lit walk at the beach and kneeled before you in the sand asking you to marry him. 

You said yes, of course, and he looked like the happiest man alive as he wrapped you up in a breathtaking kiss. You two couldn’t wait to get to his hotel, and made love right then and there, the sounds of the ocean waves lapping in the distance. 

He wanted to marry at once, and only a few days later you were at the courthouse exchanging vows. None of your friends could come (they were all in school), and only a few of his came, including his father, who hadn’t exactly looked favorably on you, but knew his son couldn’t be reasoned with once he set his mind to something. The colonel scowled in the corner, smoking his pipe up a storm. Your mom and dad wanted nothing to do with the whole affair and had all too happily washed their hands of you, signing paperwork to allow you to wed before your eighteenth birthday. 

When it was time to say, ‘I do’, you did so enthusiastically, and a beautiful smile broke out on his handsome face. He pulled you in, thumbing your bridal veil, and kissed you like a man possessed. You were forever changed in that moment. 

Mrs. Elvis Presley. It was like a dream come true.

And for a while, it was. 

Elvis was attentive, doting, a true joy to be around. He took care of everything for you. You wanted for nothing. You were happy, happier than you ever thought possible in your short and, up till now, wretched life. Elvis changed everything for you, and you were eternally grateful. 

But, like all dreams, there came a time when reality set in. The bubble burst. Oh, boy, did it ever. 

It started with little things, at first. 

Before he’d met you, you worked at a diner waiting tables. Now that you were married, he claimed there was no reason to keep waitressing. “Waste of time,” he remarked, “’sides, who’d wanna keep on their feet like that all day long when you don’t have’ta? Nuh-uh, didn’t think so. You’ll put in your notice tomorrah’.” 

You thought to object, but he had a point. It was enjoyable enough to you, sure, passed the time all right, and gave you some pocket change to buy things for yourself that your parents never would. But now with Elvis occupying your days, and making just about a hundred times what you ever did after a full day’s work just sitting around, what was the point? Your coworkers, as nice as they were, were hardly reason enough. 

So you promptly shut your mouth and smiled, giving him a big hug, and that was that. 

Then it was your hair: 

“Oh, doll,” he crooned one night after a heavy bout of lovemaking, running his meaty paw through your thick, wavy hair. “Wouldn’t you look good with straightened hair?” 

You turned to him in mild surprise, still blissed out. “You never said a thing about my hair before. Don’t you like it?”

“Oh, ‘course I do, baby. I just thought you might like to keep up with the fashion is all. All them girls have their hair straight these days.” 

“I guess that’s true.” You admitted. “And, say, maybe you ‘oughta darken it while you’re at it. Might be nice to have us match, you know.” You touched a hand to your hair, furrowing your brows as he leaned in to nuzzle your neck, applying light, sweet kisses there. It was awfully distracting, your hand falling limp on the bed as you gasped. 

“Promise me you’ll think ‘bout it, at least...” He murmured low between kisses that went ever lower. “Oh, sure.” 

“Good girl,” he growled, and he said something about “...have Jer make an appointment at that salon o’ Sandy’s.” And he proceeded to eat you out. 

As time went on, that charming, subtle needling to shift your behaviors in his favor turned meaner:

Once before a press conference, he stopped you in the hallway, seizing your arm. “Hey, what’s wrong—” you winced as he twisted it around harshly in an effort to inspect your hand. “Quit it, E, that hurts.” 

“What is this?” He looked at you angrily, disappointed, even. 

“What is what?” You didn’t see anything other than your ring, which was where it should be, on your ring finger without anything out of the ordinary. When you saw where his eyes were directed, you realized he meant your nail polish. 

“So it’s a little chipped. Who cares?”

“Who cares?” He seethed. “I care, and if you had any sense in ya you would too! Everything you do reflects on me, little girl, so when you look like a cheap hussy, you make me look bad. Make ‘em think I can’t take care of my baby. Get it?” 

He wasn’t shouting, he wasn’t even raising his voice, but the venom dripping from his quiet wrath was so much worse. 

Tears built at the corner of your eyes and you ducked your head, turning on your heel to run back toward the bedroom before he caught you by the arm again. You thought he’d apologize, say he overreacted. He didn’t. Instead he said: “Dry those eyes, girl, and put on a smile. I don’t care if it ain’t real, but I won’t have ya embarrassin’ me.” 

It only snowballed from there.

Your whole wardrobe was thrown out, and a new one replaced to match with Elvis’. You didn’t finish school, didn’t do ballet anymore. You still cooked and baked now and then, but only on special occasions. Mary did all the real cooking in the house, and she already knew what Elvis liked and she did it well. Drinking, although technically not even legal, was forbidden (“a lady shouldn’t drink, you’ll get sloppy and less chivalrous men than myself’ll take advantage. Don’t want that, do ya?”)

Want to go to the movie with some friends? Think again. Boys weren’t allowed anywhere in your vicinity: he barely let Red, trusted bodyguard of the Memphis Mafia, guard you. He said he didn’t like his wandering eye one time. Personally, you thought he was delusional, but didn’t bother arguing since you hadn’t exactly taken a liking to the man. 

Your friends were more acquaintances now, and when you saw them, you didn’t know what to say. They’d moved on, had new friends or new boyfriends. They felt you abandoned them (you did, although not intentionally). You never felt more alone in your life, and yet you were never alone; Elvis made sure of that, always having someone stay behind to watch you when he couldn’t.

Eventually it was the summer, your first summer as a married couple in fact, and you were invited to your cousin’s wedding. It was her high school sweetheart; they got the bug from you and wanted to get hitched as soon as they graduated high school. You were hellbent on making it to that wedding, come hell or high water. Elvis, as your husband, was of course also invited and expected as your plus one. They were renting out a small venue in Nashville, and the bride-to-be wanted you as her bridesmaid if not the maid-of-honor (a role you suspected in the back of your mind would have easily been yours pre-Elvis, but post-Elvis you was less reliable, and you couldn’t fault her for making that decision). 

Elvis’ first reaction to it surprised you. After all, he’d hardly wanted you to leave his side and had grown increasingly controlling. So when he said, “Sure, hunny,” you almost questioned if you’d imagined it.

You were ecstatic. “Oh, thank you, Elvis. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Each word of gratitude was punctured by a kiss all over his face and any other bare patch of skin you could reach. He laughed that booming laugh of his and pulled you in to give you a proper one. “Well, if that’s the way you were gonna thank me I ‘oughta have more o’ your friends get married!” 

This was Fall. Now that it was summertime, and the wedding weekend was upon you, he put his foot down. 

“No,” he said simply, not even sparing you a glance as he casually strummed his acoustic guitar, legs spread apart on the couch. Your mouth nearly fell to the floor, and you felt a distinct ringing in your ears, your heartbeat speeding up. Blinking, you saw a few of his Mafia crew milling about, pretending they’d gone deaf and blind as your temper rose. 

“What?” You screeched. 

You did. 

You almost forgot what it sounded like, your defiance. It was spectacular, and you thought you had never felt so angry in your life. 

And you had a right to, damn it. You did everything this man said and more. You dyed your hair black, you straightened it to his liking, you always had a fresh paint of nails, you wore the dresses he picked out for you, even the ones with the ruffles that you couldn’t stand, and wanted to make you tear your eyes out of your sockets. You stopped working because he said so (although that was not entirely something worth fighting). But you left school, and you stopped talking to your friends for months until they stopped trying so hard and all you had was him and his damn Mafia. The girlfriends and wives didn’t even hardly talk to you. You were too young and there was very little in common. 

You think you spewed all this out to him in your rage, not thinking it even made sense, but you wanted him to feel what he put you through, and being his wasn’t enough if you didn’t have a life outside of his wants and desires. 

Finally, chest heaving, out of words to say in your tirade, you saw him through blurry, teary eyes. He’d frozen, shoulders hunched, body tensed for a fight. He looked around the room, but he needn’t — his Mafia was nowhere to be seen now. His eyes cut to you, dark and stormy, as he rose to his full height and strode towards your panting figure. 

It was a sight to behold, your husband so angry. He’d been cross with you — lord knew he’d been annoyed on many an occasion — but enraged was new. It felt like the point of no return. Like he’d really hurt you this time, all those words about never laying a hand on a woman falling by the wayside.

“Now, Elvis, hold on now—”

“Long past time for that, baby. You been backsassin’ me and I won’t stand for it.”

Your eyes cut to the side, seeing a crack in the doorway.

“Don’t you even think about it, lil’ girl.” Elvis growled. You yelped as he took you in his arms, forcefully tugging you to the couch where he fell back against it, the momentum leaving you to fall across his lap in a rather unlady-like manner. 

“Elvis, please, I’m sorry,” you began, attempting in vain to rise from the precarious position he had you in. His arm only tightened its hold around your waist much like a boa constrictor around its prey. “Should’a thought ‘a that before you went off like that. Now, sit tight and take your punishment.” 

He hit you, then. He actually did it. But it wasn’t across your face or strangling your neck like you’d heard some women claiming of their husbands. He’d pulled up your dress so that it hung your belly and pulled down your lace underwear so that you were bare-bottomed and smacked your butt with his open palm, rings and all. 

You gasped first, shocked that it had happened, and that it felt like it did; the contrast of his warm skin and the cold metal rings was a contrast you hadn’t known you needed. Then as one became two, and two became three, and four and five, and so on... you’d lost track, a strange feeling built up in your lower abdomen that felt familiar yet also foreign. 

Were you... enjoying this absurd, perverted version of punishment?  Surely you weren’t getting turned on by your husband beating you like an errant child? 

And yet... you couldn’t deny the flare of hot want flowing through you, and you certainly couldn’t deny the wet stickiness that started collecting in your bared cunt. You had to bite your lip from making your desire audible; you were angry, aghast that your husband would go to such lengths for simply voicing your very legitimate frustrations to him. 

When a slap fell slightly lower, just catching the bottom of your pussy lips, you couldn’t contain your excitement. A moan slipped past your lips. 

Elvis froze, cock hardening in his pants some.

Your eyes widened, cursing yourself internally. The last thing you wanted was for the bastard to know some part of you was enjoying yourself. You wouldn’t look at him, burying your head in the side of his thigh, even as you felt that hot and searing gaze of his on you. You were humiliated, something you hadn’t thought possible after what he’d already done. 

“Well, well,” he drawled, voice deeper, thick with lust. “Seems my baby likes this more than she should.” 

“Please, Elvis, let me go,” you begged.” You’ve had your fun, being humiliated like this is punishment enough.” 

He laughed, barrel chest vibrating against you. “Oh, hunny, I ain’t nearly done with you. In fact,” he circled your ass with his palm, your slick wetting his fingers now. “The fun’s just begun.” 

“What—” You interjected, only to cry out loudly (or perhaps moan, it was some contrived version of the two), as he promptly pushed his fingers deep into your crevice, the warm, wet walls hugging his long digits with gusto. 

He hissed, “oh, baby girl, that vice of yours just about does my head in. I need to be inside you now.” He started fumbling with his slacks, the belt coming undone in record time as he pulled his rock-hard cock out of his boxers. He gave it a good tug, grimacing at the action. The tip was red and weeping, practically twitching with need. 

“C’mere,” he said, positioning you where he wanted you like a doll. “On all fours, that’s right, just like that hunny.” Your knees met the carpeted floor, hair falling around you like a curtain as your head bent. You know he could go deep like this, but usually you had sex facing one another. He could piss you off to no end, but sex was always a sacred thing between you two. This felt cold, unfeeling. Fucking was what it was; he could care less to see you, he only wanted to possess you. You felt cheap, a plaything — and yet your cunt continued to thud with need. 

“Jesus, you’re a pretty sight,” he rubbed his cock over your pussy lips, grab at your ass, take another smack of it and delighting in the jiggle of it. “Please, Elvis, just...” You pleaded, and he cut a look at you. “Don’t think you’re much in the position to be makin’ any sorta demands, doll.” 

You hung your head, sighing, waiting for him to get his fill. “Oh, hell,” he said, “you’re lucky I can’t hardly wait anymore either.” And with that he pushed into you, causing a surprised yelp to leave your throat. Pulling on your hair, causing your back to arch towards him, he set a punishing, brutal pace, one that hard you seeing stars. In this position, he could hit your g-spot dead on, and hit it he did. 

“Oh, godddd,” you groaned, scraping a hand back to hold onto his arm holding onto you. He huffed a laugh that turned strangled toward the end. “Not God, darlin’, but close.” 

You would have snorted at the cheesy line if you weren’t full of his cock. 

“Nothin’ to say?” He taunted. “That’s a real shame. To think you just needed some good dick to quiet down. Bet you ain’t never had one good as me.” 

It wasn’t a statement, he expected an answer, but you were too far gone in the blissed-out feeling to recognize it.

Smacking your sore ass harshly, he repeated his words. “Ain’t you? Say it, or I swear to God I’ll stop right now and won’t let you come.” 

“Yes, E, yes! You’re the best I’ve had,” you cried as the building sensation waned. “That ain’t my name, try again.” 

“Daddy,” you whispered, feeling some shame about it. You always felt weird about calling him that even though your relationship with you father had never been close, but he demanded you refer to him in that way. 

“Daddy what?”

“Daddy you’re the best I’ve ever had,” you admitted. He smiled; really, you would have said anything to have him keep fucking you the way he was.

“That’s right,” he pet your head, slipping his cock back into your tight hole as your eyes rolled back in your head. “You’re my good girl when you’re like this, almost forgotten you was bad earlier. Throwin’ a temper tantrum back there after all I done for you. Ungrateful. And for what? Some weddin’ you felt you needed to go to?” He tutted you, each word punctured by a punishing stab at your cervix; the pain intermingled with pleasure to create a heady concoction leaving you at a loss of words. Intelligible ones, anyhow. 

“Ye-ah...” you moaned. 

“What was that?” Elvis goaded, pinching your swinging titties between his hands. 

“A-agree, I w-was bein’ bad.” 

“Right. ‘Cause the only person you should be worryin’ about is me. Your husband.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed deeply. “Need you just as much, more than ‘em. Can’t have you halfway ‘cross the state if somethin’ came up.” 

He soothed your head, running his fingers through your dampening hair. “Need my yittle baby by my side, and she needs her daddy,” he cooed in the baby-talk language he loved so much. 

You nodded, more so due to the buildup in your pelvic region. He groaned, feeling the tighening in his balls as your walls started fluttering around him. 

“Shit, hunny, you got me ready to burst. You gon’ take it? Take all my lovin’?” 

“Yes, Daddy! I’ll take it all.” 

“Gonna fill you up,” he mumbled, hips moving erratically now. “Fill you up with my babies ‘till your big and swollen with my seed. Shi-itt—!” 

You cried out at the sensation of his warmth shooting into you, triggering your orgasm. 

“Agh!” He yelled, falling over you, hips slowly still moving as if to fuck more into you. You collapsed on the floor, and he was right behind you. You two laid on the floor in the fading light that spilled through the French windows. 

Turning so that he was looking at you, he pulled your face to his in a deep, slow kiss. “You gonna let Daddy take care of you?” 

You hesitated, knowing what he wanted of you. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll make the call tonight.” 

He grinned, looking every bit the angel and devil as he hovered over you. “Good girl.” 

[emocxnteddie]

!! Musicians Heart !!

Couple/Ship; Colby Brock x Male!Reader(He/Him pronouns used)

Genre; SFW

AU Where Reader Is A Punk Rock Musician.

Warnings; None.

Colby was looking at his phone, scrolling through instagram when he saw a familiar name, someone he'd known in high school. M/N L/N. He looked at the account, and noticed the pictures.

He was shocked to see that M/N was doing good, even better then Colby imagined. He saw that M/N had started a music career, which he was surprised to see.

He noticed he made music similiar to punk rock. Colby couldn't help but notice the videos and pictures of M/N on his instagram wearing quite attractive outfits, aswell as videos.

Colby quickly sent a friend request, his curiousity getting the better of him.

A few hours had passed, and Colby heard his phone go off with a notification. He looked at the phone, and noticed M/N had accepted his friend request, even sending him a message.

{Username} - Hey, you sent me a follow request, why? I mean you are way more popular on here then me.

{Colbybrock} - Well i just recognized you from high school, you M/N L/N right? I think we went to the same class.

{Username} - Huh, well yeah, i'm M/N, you also pursued a career in social media?

{Colbybrock} - Hahah, yeah, i did, hey maybe if your in LA sometime, we can catch up?

{Username} - I'm actually in LA for a concert i'm doing, perhaps we can take a drink at some cafe in town during the day?

{Colbybrock} - Sounds good! Tomorrow sound good at [insert Cafe name] around 12 pm?

{Username} - Yup, sounds great, see you tomorrow, Brock.

Colby looked at his phone, feeling himself smile. He had no idea why he was doing this, but it felt right to do it. He thought M/N looked so good in the pictures.

Colby decided to listen to some of M/N's songs, feeling himself love them. He enjoyed the way the lyrics worked together, and the beat of the music.

That night he fell asleep listening to M/N's music while thinking about the meetup he would have with him tomorrow during the afternoon.

The morning rolled around, and the time was 11:45 pm, Colby had arrived at the cafe that he and M/N had agreed to meetup. He was looking at his phone while waiting. Soon he heard the doors open to the cafe.

There stood M/N, wearing [Think of something Alt Style clothes you'd wear]. Colby smiled at M/N, and walked over to him. "Hey, M/N, It's Colby, we talked over insta yesterday!" Colby said awkardly.

M/N chuckled, and nodded, "I know, also great spot you picked out." M/N said, and Colby chuckled. "Thanks, i know it's a small cafe so not a lot of people go here, meaning we get more privacy from fans." Colby said, and sat down in a seat across M/N.

"Smart, i mean most people know i'm in town so it's good to see a place where i can get some stuff done in private without being bound to my hotel room." M/N said, and looked at the menu. Colby couldn't help but admire the way M/N looked, his [Hair style] was to die for, and his [Eye color] were beautiful.

Colby sighed, and looked at the menu he'd gotten. "So, how was life for you after high school?" Colby asked, and M/N looked at him. "It was alright, like a year after high school ended i began making songs." He answered, and Colby nodded. "That's cool, i began doing youtube with Sam, remember him?" he asked M/N, and he nodded. "Yeah, Sam Golbach, right?"

Colby laughed and nodded, "Yup, him and i are still best friends." Colby thought about Sam for a moment then looked at M/N, noticing they had made eyecontact. "Uhm-" Colby got tongue tied, and his face heated up.

M/N grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Cat got your tongue?" he said, teasing Colby.

Colby shook his head, and looked back down at the menu. "Nope.." he groaned, and sighed. M/N had noticed his reaction, which he found amusing. "It's cool if you think i'm hot, i mean i think you look good." M/N hummed, and decided what he would order.

"I'm gonna have a [Drink name] and a [Dessert], what about you?" M/N asked, and Colby became peachy pink on his cheeks. He cleared his throat, nervous.

"I'll have a black coffee and a cupcake." he said, and M/N looked at the waitress politely, "One black coffee, one [Drink name], a cupcake and a [Dessert]" M/N said, and the waitress nodded and walked to the kitchen to hand the order to the chefs.

"Did you mean what you said that you find me good-looking?" Colby asked, his voice shaky from embarrassment. M/N nodded and chuckled at Colby, "Yeah, I did." he said and smiled at Colby.

They had spent an hour talking and catching up in the cafe, and now they were walking back to M/N's hotel.

Once they got to the gate to the hotel, M/N looked at Colby and kissed his forehead. "It was nice catching up with you, Brock," he said, then left Colby dumbfounded outside the hotel.

Colby was shocked but happy. He giggled and took a deep breath. He knew he had to call up M/N some day, this was great catching up.

[yuurei20]

EN Changes Compilation Master List: Events

・Beanfest 1 and 2 Badges, vice housewardens, kebabs and more.

・EN vs. JP: Fairy Gala Sweet merciful seven, "barf," eggs and more.

・EN vs JP: Phantom Bride Slender, pronouns, "18 years old" and more.

・EN vs. JP: Wish Upon a Star Tanabata, high school, "boys in particular" and the Shaftlands.

・EN vs JP: Terror is Trending "Cay-Cay's gotchu," "-sama," "master" and "cui-cui."

・EN vs JP: Firelit Sky Servants, cute, and dokkan-senpai.

・EN vs JP: Spectral Soiree Plurals, perverts, eggs, landlocked, elephant ears and more.

・EN vs JP: Harveston Apples, accents, honorifics, baby rabbit and seven dwarves

・EN vs JP: Port Fest Sorcents and Stomp

・EN vs JP: Glorious Masquerade Sensei, humans, eggs, Smoldering Desire, lyrics and more.

・EN vs JP: Glorious Masquerade vignettes "Imagination"

・EN vs. JP: White Rabbit Fes Sixteen, time, scythes, bread and "aniki."

・EN vs. JP: Stitch Event Rock n' roll, I love you, ohana, added Stitch dialogue

・Cloudcalling (pt1) | Cloudcalling (pt2) | Cloudcalling (pt3)

[redrose10]

Pls pls plsss do number 3 for the picture fic game ❤️❤️

I got two requests for photo 3 (my fault because I forgot to update the original post) and since I had two ideas and couldn’t decide which one to go with I decided to just write both.

So here is the first one and I hope it’s okay!

Warnings: Angst, little bit of bullying, slightly suggestive but nothing explicit, swearing

It’s a tale as old as time. The head cheerleader dating the captain of the basketball team. A match made in heaven. There were many times over the last two years where you had to force yourself not to roll your eyes whenever you watched Ara jump into Yoongi’s arms. The scoffs you kept to yourself every time they called each other babe or baby or honey or your least favorite- Suga Buns. You couldn’t even count the number of times you nearly vomited seeing the two of them shoving their tongues down each others throats.

The worst part was each time you experienced these, it also chipped away at your heart a little more and no one else knew it.

You had met Yoongi on your first day of high school. You were new to the area and since he was a student ambassador he was assigned to show you around for a few days until you got more comfortable. Somehow or another the two of you became inseparable. Studying after school, spending all of your weekends together, you never missed a single one of his basketball game always being there in the front row. You guys were best friends.

Like another tale as old as time you developed a crush on your best friend but were too scared to say anything. You’d thought about saying something though. The moment that stands out the most to you was after one of his games during senior year. One where he scored the winning basket at the buzzer making the crowd go crazy. You were waiting on the bleachers for him to come out of the locker room so you two could head over to Taehyung’s house for a celebratory party. A common occurrence for you two.

Yoongi was taking longer than usual. You were about to go find someone to go in there and look for him when you heard unfamiliar giggling and then saw him walking out of the locker room zipping up his jeans while the head cheerleader, Tia, was close behind pulling down the skirt she was wearing. When he got closer you noticed the purple bruising on his neck while she had matching marks on her chest. He immediately came running over to you, “Y/N, ready to go?!” You gave a tight lip nod. Tia stood there glaring at you, jealous that you had pulled his attention away from her so quickly. “Tia is going to come with us. Is that okay?” No it’s not okay but it’s his car and he can invite who he wants you thought to yourself. “Of course.”, you lied with a fake smile. You felt stupid to even think that someone like him would fall for someone like you so you never attempted to tell him again.

Then prom came and went. Yoongi didn’t take Tia but some other girl that was basically her clone anyways. You went with Hoseok. He was sweet and really tried to make the night memorable for you but you knew there were zero feelings there. Especially when you broke down in tears watching Yoongi leave you behind at the dance while he left with his date, something he had promised not to do.

Then you and Yoongi went off to college. You both thankfully got into the same school and quickly found a house near campus that you rented together.

Yoongi stayed single during the first two years. Choosing to focus on school and basketball instead. There were his random hookups, one night stands. You were jealous of those girls. Those girls who got the intimacy with him that you craved. They got to see him in ways you had only imagined. And then the petty part of you was secretly happy when minutes after the moans and sounds of the bed rocking ended you would hear feet patter to the kitchen and the fridge would open. You knew the routine. He’d make up an excuse about having to get up real early and then give them a bottle of water for the road and then minutes later you would hear the lock on the front door click shut. He would take a quick shower and then you’d get a text from him asking if you wanted to watch a movie. You knew you should’ve felt angry, maybe even gross that he was fucking another woman ten minutes ago and now is cuddling you in your bed while you watch a movie but there was a part of you that liked to pretend that it had been you the whole time.

Then he met Ara. She was the new captain of the cheerleading squad. The cuddles in your bed stopped. You only hung out for a little at home or in a group setting here and there. Yoongi was infatuated with her and you were no longer an important piece to his life.

You hated her. Not because you thought she was much prettier than you or that she had Yoongi and you didn’t. You hated her because she was mean to you. Any time Yoongi would look the other way she’d throw jabs at you. Comments about your appearance, your personality, your intelligence. She often liked to remind you that she was with Yoongi and you were not. She’d kiss him a little harder when you were around, fall into his lap as soon as you sat down. You hated her but Yoongi loved her so you kept your mouth shut and did your best to smile through it.

One morning you woke up with a particularly bad migraine. You were nauseous and exhausted from staying up all night thanks to the two of them going at it for multiple rounds. You knew number one on your list of things to do today was to finally go splurge on a good pair of noise canceling headphones.

While in the kitchen you groaned because you were definitely not in the mood when you heard soft feet sliding on the floor followed by Ara’s fake niceness in her voice.

“Y/N, sorry if we kept you up all night. I don’t know what got into Yoongi. He just couldn’t keep his hands off of me.”, she smirked.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t know how I’m gonna get any sleep when I move in here soon. I mean with him being all over me all the time like that.”

You choked on your coffee. The coughing making your head hurt worse.

“What? Yoongi didn’t tell you? Yeah he asked me a few weeks ago if I’d like to move in. And of course I’d love to.”, she smiled.

Your mouth went dry. You couldn’t believe he didn’t even ask you how you felt about anyone moving in especially Ara.

Thankfully Yoongi came walking out into the kitchen. He wrapped a hand around Ara waist before giving her a kiss, “Morning baby. You two getting along?”

Ara ran her fingers through his hair, “Of course. I was just telling Y/N how I’m moving in with you two.”

If you didn’t know him as well we you did you would’ve missed the way he flinched. He knew you weren’t going to be happy about that.

“Well I’ve got to get to class. See you at the game!”, she said before giving him a kiss again and ignoring you completely which you were glad for because your head felt like it was gonna explode.

“Look Y/N, I was going to tell you. I’ve just been busy and…”

You shook your head, “It’s fine. It’s half your place too. I’ve gotta get to class.”

You put the mug down in the sink before running to your room completely forgetting about the pounding headache.

As much as you wanted to skip the game you knew you could never do that. You’d never missed a game of Yoongi’s and you weren’t going to let a migraine and some bad news be the reason for the first.

Yoongi was fantastic again leading the team in points and assists. Him and Ara were practically all over each other as you stood off to the side waiting for them to come over so you could find out what the after game plans were.

“Hey Y/N, long time no see!”, a familiar voice said.

“Oh hi Jimin!”, you excitedly exclaimed.

The two of you had worked on a big economics project last semester.

“Working hard this semester?”, he questioned.

You nodded, “Yeah I’m just glad I don’t have to go through economics again. That was brutal.”

“Yeah tell me about it.”, he chuckled.

He nervously scratched at the back of his neck, “Sooo uh this is kind of weird but um my friend over there has been staring at you the whole game because he thought you were really pretty and when I told him that I knew you… well he’s kind of been on my case about introducing you to him.”

You looked over noticing a really cute guy shyly waving at you. You waved back.

Jimin continued, “His name is Jungkook and we were wondering if you were busy tonight because we’re going with out with a bunch of friends to this diner to get some food and hang out and we wanted to ask you to come with us.”

You thought about it but you always spent time after the game with Yoongi. You looked over in his direction watching as his hand slowly made its way to Ara’s ass and you realized you really didn’t want to spend another night being a third wheel until they just left you alone completely for the bedroom anyways.

“Yeah I’d love to go. Sounds fun.”, you smiled. Jimin walked you over to Jungkook and you giggled when he breathed a loud sigh of relief. You left with them not noticing the glare that Yoongi sent in your direction.

Ara moved in three weeks ago. It hasn’t been unbearable but you definitely started keeping your eyes open for other possible living situations. Most of the time you did your best to avoid her which also meant you were avoiding Yoongi too. That was also easier than you’d thought and slowly stopped seeming so foreign.

It was a rare Saturday night where you walked into the living room and found Yoongi but no Ara.

“Where’s your shadow?”, you asked with a slight tone of bitterness you hoped he didn’t catch.

“Girls night. I told her to invite you but she said they already had everything booked and couldn’t make any changes.”, he shrugged.

You dodged that bullet thankfully.

He continued, “I thought maybe we could order some food and then watch a movie. I feel like I’ve barely seen you over the last few weeks.”

“Uh yeah maybe another time. I kind of already have plans.”, you mumbled.

“What like a date?”, he chuckled. You knew he meant it as a joke but it still hurt that he though you going on a date was such a strange thing.

“Yeah I uh actually do have a date.”

You and Jungkook had been talking regularly since exchanging numbers at the diner. Then a few days ago he asked if you wanted to go on an official date and you said yes. You liked him. He was kind and thoughtful. He made you laugh. He was attractive and his smile made you melt. You loved looking over his tattoos and hearing the stories behind them. He made you feel like the only person in the world when you were with him and that was something you hadn’t felt in a long long time.

You were so caught up in day dreaming about Jungkook that you didn’t hear Yoongi talking to you.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry what?”

He laughed, “Who’s your date?”

“What are you my father?”, you asked half joking half actually annoyed because why did he care all of a sudden?

“No but you’re going on a date with some guy I don’t know. I want to make sure he’s good for you and that you’re not going to get hurt.”

You scoffed because how ironic.

“Thanks Yoongi but I can take take of my self.”

“Like you did with Jin?”, he said rather harshly.

Your blood ran cold at hearing that name. Jin was a guy you dated for over a year. He was your first real boyfriend and first love other than Yoongi. You caught him cheating on you with some woman he’d repeatedly told you wasn’t a threat. You were devastated and it was a huge blow to your confidence. You cried into Yoongi’s chest for days. You thought he had genuinely cared about you then so you had no idea why he would throw that back in your face right now.

Tears began to burn your eyes so you slammed them shut not wanting them to fall and ruin the makeup you’d worked so hard on or give Yoongi the satisfaction of knowing he struck a nerve.

While you had your eyes closed Yoongi had closed the distance grabbing your hand and making you flinch, “Fuck, Y/N I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I’m just stressed about the championship in a few weeks and me and Ara are going through a thing and my classes are building up. My mouth was working faster than my brain. You know I didn’t mean anything by it. Please.”

Luckily there was a knock at the door giving you an escape. Without saying anything you turned and left the apartment letting the door slam behind you. Jungkook greeted you with a bouquet of tulips, the first time a guy had given you flowers. They were beautiful and it was sweet. You thanked him and you were grateful that you could use the sweet gesture as an excuse for why you were tearing up when he questioned it just a few seconds later.

Things were awkward between you and Yoongi after that. You didn’t speak much unless it related to the bills or apartment. You hadn’t seen or heard Ara in a while but it was a Saturday night and Yoongi was nowhere to be found so you assumed he was with her. It was nice because for once you were able to peacefully fall asleep without having to wear your noise canceling headphones as a precaution.

But then you were woken up in the middle of the night by a loud thud followed by some curse words before someone was stumbling into your bed. You would’ve freaked out if you didn’t immediately recognize the scent of Yoongi’s cologne and lavender shampoo mixed with his favorite whiskey.

“Yoongi go to your bed. Ara’s gonna flip out if she comes home and finds you here.”, you grumbled trying to push him out of your bed.

It only seemed to make him snuggle in tighter, “Fuck her. I don’t care if she finds us. I miss my best friend. I miss you Y/N.”

“Yoongi you’re drunk. Let’s get you to bed.”, you said trying to push him off but he was basically dead weight in his drunken state and you didn’t have the strength to move him yourself so you accepted your fate and tried to create as much space between you in the bed before using his snores to help you back sleep.

“You disgusting lying whore! I knew you were just waiting for the chance to fuck him.”, Ara shrieked over you. You jumped awake startled and confused by what was going on. That’s when you looked over and saw Yoongi sitting up in bed hungover but just as confused as you.

“I didn’t…We didn’t do anything you stuttered. He showed up drunk and got in my bed. I tried to get him to leave but he wouldn’t.”

“Is that true?”, she hissed at him.

He shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t remember anything.��

Your mouth dropped open. You weren’t surprised that he didn’t really remember anything but did he actually think that you would’ve seduced him? He could’ve at the minimum agreed with you that he was the one that got in your bed.

“I knew we should’ve moved into that other apartment together like we were going to but you were just too afraid to rip off the bandaid and tell Y/N how you thought she was an annoying pain in the ass and wanted to move away from her and now look Yoongi. She nearly ruined our relationship.”

Yoongi bit his bottom lip. You felt like throwing up and crying and running away. All this time he thought you were annoying. You wanted to ask when he started feeling that way but it didn’t matter anyways. The damage was done at that point. Ara turned and left mumbling something about finding a relator as soon as possible.

“Y/N…I…What she said…”,

“Just forget it Yoongi.”

You wanted to say more but you could feel yourself beginning to cry. You tried to scramble out of the bed but he was too quick and grabbed onto you, “Please just let me explain.I know it’s the oldest excuse in the book but I didn’t mean it. It was that night after one of my games. I was jealous because I saw you were talking to Jimin and then you were laughing and smiling with some other guy who I’m guessing was Jungkook. And then I was hurt that you went to hang out with them after the game instead of me. Ara kept adding fuel to the fire and I said that you were annoying and that me and her should move in together somewhere else without you. I was mostly annoyed with myself though and not you. By the next morning I knew I didn’t mean it.”

He ran his hands over this face before falling back onto the bed, “I can’t live without you Y/N. These last few weeks have really opened my eyes on how important you are to me. All these years I thought I had a small crush on you that would just go away. I tried to find love elsewhere because the thought of possibly loosing you terrified me. But I love you Y/N. If I’m gonna loose you anyways I figured I should at least say something now.”

You stared at him waiting to see the quick double blink he always did when he was lying but it never came. He was telling the truth.

“Yoongi I’ve…I’ve waited a long time to hear you say those words. We’ll have to talk about this some more but you’re not loosing me. I could never leave you.”, you said resting your head against his shoulders.

“3…2…1… And that’s it folks!!! The third consecutive championship for the Bangtan Crusaders lead by team captain Min Yoongi, who by the way graduates this year while being the schools all time leader in points scored and assists and just two steals shy of taking that one too. What a career he has had!”, the announcer excitedly exclaimed over the speaker system.

You were so proud of him watching as Yoongi and the rest of his team accepted their championship medals.

The two of you had come a long way since that night he confessed in your room. Lots of time spent talking and crying and making promises. Ara had broken up with him and stormed out not long after those events. He didn’t seem to care and you definitely did not either.

It was now almost a whole year later and things couldn’t have been better.

You laughed as Yoongi came running over to show you his medal like a golden retriever would bring you their toy.

“Y/N take a picture of me! I’m want to send it to my mom.”

“Okay say cheese!”, you smiled snapping the photo of him proudly holding up his medal.

“Congrats Yoongi! You earned it.”, you said giving him a hug.

“Thanks Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

A silence surrounded you as the rest of the team and fans continued to celebrate.

Finally when the noise died down a little Yoongi leaned over, “Hey do you want to come over and…”

He was cut off. “Sorry about that Babe, That was the realtor who called me. She said we could come sign for the apartment tonight if we wanted. That way we get the keys sooner.”, Jungkook said placing a hand on your lower back.

“Congrats man, you played great.”, he said putting his hand out to shake Yoongi’s when he noticed him standing there.

“Yeah thanks.”, Yoongi grabbed his hand.

“Well I should go get cleaned up.”, he said starting to back away towards the locker rooms.

Jungkook stopped him though, “Hey what are you doing later? Y/N and I were gonna check out that new pizza place everyone’s talking about. You should join us. My treat for you getting the school another win! Bring your girlfriend if she’s free. It’ll be like a double date.”

You chuckled at your boyfriends overly excited energy. You knew he really liked Yoongi and Yoongi saw him like a little brother which made your heart swell every time.

“Ohh that’s a great idea. Please bring Nari. We’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to catch up with her since we had that girls weekend last month.”, you begged.

“Alright alright.”, he faked annoyance but broke out into a huge gummy smile, “We were just gonna order pizza and crash on the couch any ways so that sounds like a better idea. We’ll be there.”

“Great! I’ll text you when we’re on our way.”, Jungkook said before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the exit.

Yoongi waved goodbye and started walking away at the same time. You looked back at the last moment catching a glimpse of him walking in the locker room for the final time.

[sungbeam]

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝

nonidol!eric sohn x f!reader

1.7k words, YO! SUGGESTIVE, college au, kissing, swearing, mentions of drinking, the bra comes off but nothing explicit (uh minors... DNI), his shirt comes off, barely proofread bc i wrote this on impulse and tis late for me

a/n: i let my impulsive and intrusive thoughts win.

Hands—his hands were everywhere. Anywhere he could fit his palms, his fingers against and into—every curve and crevice would not be leaving untouched. He burned his prints into your skin, signed his name with his lips, tongue, voice.

"This okay?" He murmured against the column of your throat. He could probably feel the way your pulse raced at his touch as you arched yourself into him.

Your breath hitched, his lips pressing feather-light kisses, his fingertips dancing along the bottom hem of your shirt. "More—more than okay," you exhaled, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He gave a groan of approval from the hollow of your throat, then swiftly moved back up to capture your lips for himself and steal your breath away.

(before.)

"Yn." At the feeling of a nudge to your side, you turned to your friend Jisung whose face was fitted with the widest, shit-eating grin. "You know that guy's been checking you out all night, right?"

He inclined his head toward your 4 o'clock, and you curiously followed his gaze to see what he was talking about.

You caught sight of him across the room—red ball cap, white dress shirt with nearly half the buttons undone, exposing the smooth skin beneath and the chain hanging from his collar. He nodded at you, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he smiled.

Your heart went and did a row of cartwheels.

You and Jisung had come with a group of friends to this one party tonight. There were no expectations, really, only that you had all Rock-Paper-Scissored and Felix was forced to DD. Jisung and you had lost the others pretty fast, but you hadn't minded the bit of one on one time you got with him. (You liked to claim you didn't have favorites, but Han Jisung was a little difficult to not love.)

"You know him?" Jisung asked you after draining whatever was left in his plastic cup. He gave a grimace at the burn down the back of his throat.

"Uhm yeah, actually." You smiled, lifting a brow. "Eric Sohn. Plays shortstop for the uni baseball team." Yeah, you knew him, alright. You never missed a baseball game, even since high school, and that tradition had yet to stop in college. Sometimes, you would even go with your other friend Seungmin, if he had time. It was something that reminded you a lot of life in your hometown, where all your closest friends would hit the neighborhood field to play a round or two. Of course, constantly being in the stands meant that someone was bound to notice your presence.

Maybe he'd finally figured out you weren't there for anyone in particular.

A crease formed between Jisung's brows. "What the fuck's a shortstop?—You know what? I don't need to know," he said with a shake of his head. He turned his body toward you, extending his hand, "Dude's coming this way, so I won't step on your toes."

You passed Jisung an incredulous look, but clasped his hand with yours. "Just say you don't wanna cockblock me, Ji."

He laughed. "Hey, you said it this time, not me! Use protection, my friend," he teased, patting you on the shoulder before taking his leave and melding with the crowd.

You rolled his eyes, but your heart still thundered in your chest. Jisung said Eric was on his way over to you, and you were a little nervous to turn around and look—

"I've kind of been wondering about something."

Here he is. You whirled around and came face to face with the man in question. From up close, his jawline was even sharper than it looked from all the way up in the bleachers, his hands veiny all the way down his forearms. And his shirt seemed to be hanging on just enough to leave something for the imagination, but you were sure your imagination would be pretty on the nose anyway. His smile was even prettier this close and there was something boyish about its edge that threw you for a loop. He braced an arm against the wall next to you, and you saw the glint of his silver watch and the rings adorning his fingers.

"And what would you be wondering?" You prompted with a small tilt of your head.

"What's a girl as pretty as you doing alone all the time?" He asked. "I've been racking my brain for an explanation, and none of my teammates say they know you."

"Maybe I'm just looking for a good time," you replied airily, leaning toward him slightly. Then it came to you, the replays of him on the field, the way he so effortlessly caught your attention like he turned double plays. "And someone who knows what he's doing, I suppose."

His smile widened a sliver, following your lead. "And what can I do to prove to you that I do?"

You could smell the expensive, but subtle cologne lingering on his skin and clothes over the smell of the party around you. Your eyes darted down to his lips and you saw him do the same to you. "Come a little closer and find out."

(now.)

He was addicted to the taste of you—couldn't stop and didn't plan to stop until he traced every inch of you with his mouth. Eric had lost his cap at some point between meeting you and getting you alone in this room. It was dark, it was hot—you were hot. Your skin was on fire, there was sweat dripping down the back of your neck. Your hands were in his hair, but he wanted them on his body, in his pants, and still in his hair.

You gave a tug as he pressed his tongue into your mouth, a pretty whine coaxed from you. God, you were so pretty. So pretty and perfect and—he couldn't believe you were single.

His nose slotted against yours, his knee sliding between your thighs and keeping your knees from buckling. He kept you up by his own strength and the wall behind you.

You broke for air and he dove for your neck. "Eric," you managed to say between breaths, the top of his head tickling the bottom of your chin.

He hummed, hands squeezing your sides. "I'm gonna stick my hands under your shirt," he rasped when he pulled back to look you in the eyes, a silent question of permission.

"Be my guest."

"You're cute," he chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips.

You smiled. "I can say the same about you." You reached for his face with both of your hands, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin as his hands inched up under your shirt. "Now let me eat you up, Eric Sohn."

You could taste his laugh on your tongue. "Mmh—fuck, I like the—the sound of that."

And you were all too soon consumed and suffocating on him again, choking on the feel of muscle beneath your hands that moved to grip his shoulders; ascending, as he pressed himself against you, until no air existed between your bodies. Your mind was blank, all that laid upon your tongue was his and his name.

Eric, Eric, Eric…

"Can I take your shirt off?" You asked between kisses, catching his bottom lip between your teeth for a spell.

His forehead rested against yours, noses slotted beside each other. He braced an arm against the wall by your head while the other wrapped around your waist. "Oh my god, please."

Lazily, he kissed you again, and he somehow made your toes curl even more.

He would turn his eyes downward to watch your fingers slide each button out of its slit, the curtains of his white shirt slowly falling open. And he would find your lips again, one kiss rewarded for each buttoned freed.

Eric shrugged the garment off and it fluttered to the floor. With your eyes adjusted to the dark and the minimal light streaming in from beneath the door, you could trace the hard lines of his arms and stomach. Line by line.

"You're beautiful," you blurted out suddenly. Inwardly, you winced; dear god, you hoped you didn't just kill the mood.

Instead, though, he giggled. No one had ever called him beautiful before, at least, not to his face. Eric cupped the back of his neck with boyish glee, then moved to hold your cheek. "I'm gonna kiss you for that."

That was so fine by you.

He made good on his word and dove for your mouth, expertly catching the back of your head with his hand for cushion against the wall. And if you hadn't had the wall for support, you were certain the force of his kiss would have you bending over backwards.

Your fingers dug into his arms for good measure. Heat pooled in your belly, a fire that kept you fueled and was fanned by Eric-motherfucking-Sohn.

He groaned into your mouth, an awfully delicious sound. "Bra clasp? Wanna feel you, baby."

As everything seemed to be, permission was granted immediately.

His fingers flew up your shirt again and cupped you through your bra. You felt him wrap around your body, nimbly flicking at the clasp—

There was a hurried and loud knock on the door, and you both jolted in surprise.

"Occupied!" Eric barked, hands stilling over the place where your strapless bra had been two seconds ago.

"Eric? It's Kevin! It's an emergency." Someone's voice—Kevin's—echoed through the locked door. He didn't even bother to jiggle the handle.

You saw a muscle feather in his jaw, and he carded a hand through his damp, dark hair. Conflict flickered in his eyes, from you, to the door. "One minute, hyung."

You heard footsteps retreat from outside.

Eric leaned down and scooped up your bra and his shirt from the floor, handing you your garment with a sigh. "Sorry for cutting this short," he murmured, cupping the back of your head affectionately.

Your smile was easy, and you swiftly reset your clothes and hair. "Don't worry about it. It sounds important."

"If it's Kevin, then it probably is," he agreed. He'd finished buttoning up his shirt halfway.

When you reached for the doorknob, Eric spun you back around towards him and swooped in for a kiss that made your head spin around. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, a last taste for now. "I'm not done with you yet, though, Yn."

You bit back your grin. "I was betting on that, Sohn."

read the sequel here!

tbz m.list

[rosiestalez]

Relief

ChrisEvans!Johnny Storm x afab!POC!reader

WC- 2,555

Summary- Y/n expresses her frustrations with school and her living situation so Johnny gets an idea to make her feel better the only way he really knows how!

CW: 18+, oral fem receiving, Johnny being a child sometimes, college struggles, mentions of drugs and alcohol, Chris Evan gif, not my gif :)!

A/n: MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN! I have been obsessed with Chris Evan’s Johnny Storm since I was a wee little girl. He ate in this role 🤌, so I hope I ate w this lil fic. He’s actually the reason why I have a type, and a white man’s whore! Also sorry for all the stressed college girl tropes, I’m indeed a stressed college girl!

——————————————————————

“Y/N come HERE!” Jonny yells from the top of the water tower. “Come on, it’s gorgeous up here!”, he adds.

“Hell no! I am NOT going up there. You need to get down before you get in trouble”, I yell back.

“Trouble? Dude that’s literally my middle name”, he calls back. “Just come on, imagine having sex up here under these beautiful stars, and in the most secluded place you and I know!”

“Johnny I’m not having sex with you on a water tower!”

“Ugh!” I hear him grown. “Please!”

“No.”

“Pretty please!”

“No!”

“Come on! We don’t even have to have sex!”

“Go ahead and yell our business louder for the whole campus to hear, why don’t you!”

“I wouldn’t be yelling if you were up here sweetheart!”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes, and sigh.

“Yes!” He pumps the air with his fist as I climb my way up the water tower.

I make it up there out of breath, these are moments when I regret vaping in high-school. “Why did you climb?”

“That’s a stupid question.” I glare at him.

“You’re right, my bad princess.”

“It is beautiful up here, you really can see everything”, I smile and take a deep breath closing my eyes. This is the first time I’ve felt peace in so long since I started University. I’ve been everywhere all over the place, always busy, and I never had a chance to find my peace. I thought I would find peace when I met Johnny Storm, but man was I wrong. Being with him has moments where I’m taking care of a child with unmedicated ADHD, and a child that’s never been told no. When moments like this occur where he shows me his things; I feel peace, but with us being busy with our final years of college we haven’t had time to do stuff like this.

“It is isn’t it! I love it up here. I missed being here, and I finally get to share it with the woman I lo-“, he pauses. I eyes shoot open, my head darting to him. “Look”, he points straight forward, but there’s nothing there.

“Wh-“, he pulls me into a kiss.

“Mm, this”, he pulls away from the kiss. I’m blushing, and he’s grinning like the most stupid idiot I have ever met. “Now can we have sex on top of a water tower?”, I roll my eyes and slap his chest lightly, but he just looks at me with those puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please!”

“Johnny, I physically have not been in the mood to have sex in a month, what makes you think I’m going to want to do it even more on a water tower”, I feel the irritation filling my bones.

“Why?”, he asks, he sits down legs hanging over the edge.

He pulls me down to sit and I follow sighing, “I’m exhausted.” I say, I bow my head in defeat. “I’m so tired, all the time, and since this year started, I feel so tense all the time and I’m paranoid about everything!”, he looks at me eyes filled with concern. He wraps his arms around me pulling me in. “I miss feeling free like I did in high school, not worrying about finding a job or how many kids to a classroom, or how my roommates and I are gonna make rent when one of us got fired, one is student teaching, and the other blows all her money of weed and alcohol”, I add. He sits there, listening to me; I think this is all I needed, I just needed someone to listen to me. I sigh, “I’m just ready for college to be over.”

“I know baby girl, I’m sorry”, he hugs me deeply and rocking me. He pops up, “move in with me.”

“What?”

“Move in with me, you won’t have to pay rent, it’ll be me and you and sometimes a random stray dog that comes to the door for left overs.”

“Johnny, I can’t move in with you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Okay so move in with me, you can decorate the apartment however you want, and it is closer to school than your place.”

“Fine”, I roll my eyes and lay my head on his shoulder, “can I spend the night there tonight?”, I ask.

“Of course.” He answers back through the a goofy smile.

He flies us back to his apartment, it was a little warm, but with the cool New York air it felt nice. When we arrived I was immediately taken aback by how clean it is compared to our last sleepover. “Wow, were you planning this?”

“Pfft, whaaaaat?”, he says sarcastically. He’s blushing, “I cleaned up a bit. It was starting to smell like football practice.”

“Oh I see”, I wink.

“Are you hungry? I have some left overs!”, he points to the kitchen while taking off his shoes and jacket.

“No thank you”, I follow his motions, but leaving my sweatshirt on because it is freezing in his apartment, “by the way we need to find a middle ground for a temperature in this apartment I cannot have my nipples freezing off anytime I enter.”

“Why? That’s my favorite part.”

“You’re disgusting”, I huff

“Okay get into the bed now.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“That’s definitely not how you woo a woman.”

“I’m not trying to woo you”, he grabs my hand pulling me into him, “I’m trying to relieve your stress, I can feel it in your ass.”

“Ugh”, I roll my eyes, “remove your hands from my butt please.”

“Fine”, he kisses my lips and pulls me toward his dark room. “Take off your clothes and lay down”, he points to the bed. “You can leave your sweatshirt on, but take your bra off please.”

At least he asks nicely, he leaves the room and I do what he asks, I lay down and try to get myself in the mood. He comes back with some clothes, “here you go!”

“Oh.”

“What? You said you didn’t want to have sex so I wanted to get you some pajamas!” he cheers.

“Baby, this is underwear and a sweatshirt”, I point.

“Yeah, but they’re mine.”

“You’re adorable”, I smile grabbing the folded clothes from his hand. “You’re also a huge tease, I was preparing myself”, I add.

He chuckles, “no baby, I just respect you, would you like a bath and some popcorn?”, I nod. “Great because I already have one running and I have the iPad and bath tray set up for you”, he smiles like a dork.

“You did plan this!”, I gasp.

“Yes my dear I did, this whole night was planned, I could tell you weren’t okay, I really wanted you to talk to me so I can better understand how to approach your situation”, he smiles.

“Damn it Storm, I think I love you”, I smile.

“You think, or you know?”, he asks me.

“I know Johnny, I know I love you!”

“Yep that’s what I thought, beyatch!” He taps my head and laughs like a child, I knew this sweet moment wouldn’t last too long, he quite literally is the definition of ‘playing to much’.

“Okay Johnny”, I chuckle rolling my eyes and make my way to the en suite bathroom. He wasn’t lying my favorite movie was waiting for me to press play , the bathroom was warm from the bath water steam, it smelled like vanilla and lavender, and the only lights shining were from the vanilla scented candles. My heart practically melts out my chest. I take a deep inhale and exhale slowly and stripping the rest of my clothes to dip into the warm bath. I slip my curls into a bun pulling some stragglers out to frame my face. I lean back and press play on the movie letting the warm water swaddle my chilled body.

A few minutes later a half naked Johnny walks in with popcorn and an extra towel. “I’m gonna shower!”, he states pointing to the separate shower in the corner.

“Mmm”, I hum with my eyes close.

“Do you drink wine? I don’t remember.”, he asks stilling down to his underwear.

“Yeah”, I say calmly, I hear him pouring a glass and a clink of it being set down on my tray next to the popcorn and iPad. I grab the glass and take a sip, gosh I love a good moscato. “Thank you baby!”, I sigh relaxing once again.

“My pleasure.” I hear the shower starting and Johnny steps in.

After about twenty minutes, he’s out and sitting next to me on the edge of the bath, a white towel wrapped around his waist. He’s stairing at me, I can feel it through my closed eyes. I can’t help, but smile at the way this man is enamored by me.

“Why are you stairing at me?”, I ask opening my eyes.

“You look beautiful”, he remarks.

“Well thank you”, I respond, “do you wanna join me?”

“Nah, it’s almost time to get out”, his gaze lowers down from my face to my exposed breasts that are poking out from the water. I roll my eyes, but my gaze stops at the thing growing in between his legs. He grabs my chin pulling my head to look at his face, he smirks, “you like what you see?”

“Uh-w-e-y- uh”, I stumble.

“That’s okay, I like what is see”, he speaks lowly his usual bright blues turning into a dark navy. “It’s time to get out, you look very well relaxed.”

“I-okay”, words are stumbling from my mouth. I slowly stand up from the bath, stepping over the edge and walking into the towel Johnny is holding open for me. He wraps it around me, kissing my neck sending shivers down my spine.

He kisses my lips and walks us back into the room not pulling away from the deep kiss. He picks me up, hands supporting me on my ass. He grips firmly and squeezing gently, I moan into the kiss. He dips down onto the bed my legs still wrapped around his waist.

The kiss gets deeper, he slips his tongue into my mouth and his hands begin to travel all over my body, feeling every inch. He unwraps the towel from my body exposing my naked body to the cold air. He removes his lips from mine and trails kisses down my neck, collar bone and to my erect nipples. He sucks on my right nipple, my back arches into his hard cock, he swirls it with his tongue, and bites it softly causing a moan to escape. He smirks looking up at me, “you like that?”, I nod. “That’s my good girl”, he moves to the other one doing the same thing before trailing kisses down my stomach onto my hip bones.

He spreads my thighs slightly so his had and shoulders can fit between them, he leaves kisses and bite marks all over the inside of my thighs. “S’pretty”, he whispers in between kisses. He pauses, “let me put some sweatpants on”, he stands up walking over the the stack of clothes on the dresser. He slides on a pair of charcoal sweats making his bulge pop more. He saunters back over reclaiming his spot in between my legs.

“This is all about you, take however long you need to. I just want you to relax”, he looks up at me. I nod, grabbing a pillow to support my neck.

He kisses my lips and parts them slightly with his index finger. He rubs tiny circles in my plump clit, I moan quietly, “you can be a little louder baby, all the neighbors are gone”, he adds, “I like hearing you baby girl you always sounds so pretty.” He dips his head down, his tongue replaces his fingers, he swirls it softly.

Gosh it feels so good, he starts doing a sucking motion with his lips taking my whole clit into his mouth, his tongue softly licking me. My hands travel to his blond hair, I grip it as hard as I can as a way of saying ‘keep going’.

His tongue flicks pooling waves of pleasure through my body, he doesn’t speed up he doesn’t slow down, he keeps going at the same smooth pace. He not only fucks me good, but he really does know how to use is mouth for good. “O-oh m-my-“, I moan loudly.

“That’s my good girl”, he lifts his head up, but I immediately push it back down. His fingers that were gripping my thigh are being dipped into my dripping hole. He pumps them gently, pressing them upwards pressing my sensitive spot, my back arches to him even more. He speeds up his fingers, but keeping his mouth at the same speed, just the way I like it.

As quickly as my thoughts were racing earlier, they finally slowed own allowing me to focus on the sensation of a man making me feel good, and worshiping my body. The feeling of true pleasure and peace fill my body. “Baby please don’t stop.”

He keeps going at the same mind altering pace. My eyes roll to the back of my head, my back arching more, and wild shit falling from my tongue; I’m so close, I feel a knot in my stomach. My walls clench around his fingers, my pussy starts throbbing. I let go, all the stress, a mind blowing orgasm, I let it all go all over his fingers and I moan his name, locking my legs around him as I ride out my well earned orgasm.

“That’s it baby, you did so good”, he moves away from my pussy. I let out a hazy smile finally feeling relaxed.

“Thank you Johnny, I needed that.”

“I know”, he gleams. He stands up grabbing my towel and wiping off my cum from his fingers and my pussy. He tosses the towel into the pile in the bathroom handing me the clothes he laid out for me earlier. He helps get me dressed and lays down on the bed.

“Don’t you wanna…?”, as ask before unmaking my side of the bed.

“No I’m not that self absorbed, I’ll just wake you up”, he responds, I just shake my head laying down and cuddling into his side. “We can go ahead and start moving in some of your things tomorrow morning when we get up and around, does that sound good?”, I nod, he smiles at me pulling me closer into him. “I am happy you’re here.”

[starandcloud]

Price x Imagine

Imagine Price being best friends with the reader's dad, and was a huge part of Y/N's life when she was growing up. Price was like the fun uncle that was constantly around, he was amazing with Y/N and was like a second dad.

"What's the matter Princess? The school scare ya?"

So when he came "home" alone, after a mission, and was extremely quiet when he knocked on the door and gave you a sad smile he picked you up. You didn't understand why he was sad so you just hugged him and you didn't understand why your mom was crying when Price gave her your dad's dog tags...

You also didn't understand why Uncle John (price) was staying the night or why your mom was drinking or why daddy never came home and you didn't understand why your mom was so mean now or why you had to go to a funeral for someone you didn't ever see the body of or why the stone had your daddy's name on it or why your mom had to work and why Uncle John was picking you up from school and bringing you to his house or why you were meeting your dad's group or why your dad wasn't there again but... it was okay because you had Uncle John, and that made it okay.

It wasn't until you were almost ten when you realized why your dad wasn't coming home, that he was KIA and you'd never see him again. It was that night you called Price in tears and begged him to come over so that you could see him, that you begged him not to go on deployment again, and you begged him to stay over so that you knew he'd be okay...

He stayed the night, after all how could he tell you no when you held onto him that tightly and the babysitter didn't know what to do.

He still got deployed but... he came back every single time.

You weren't sure when you started to call him "dad" but... he didn't seem to be opposed to it.

He'd drop you off on your first day of middle school and watched you as you walked towards the school before turning around and rushing back to him. You hugged him as tight as you could, your face being squished into his chest. Price just hugged you back, rocking you gently as he laughed softly.

The nod that you gave made him chuckle and pick you up.

Your question made him smile, and nod.

"Why don't I go in with you? Walk you to the front and then pick you up for lunch? We'll go get McDonalds?"

"With a strawberry milkshake..?"

"With a strawberry milkshake with syrup, I'll even buy you a fresh bottle of it."

His promise made you smile and when he put you back down, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the front office.

"My Daddy's gonna pick me up for lunch!"

You yelled, making him laugh and ruffle your hair. Frizzing the strands and making you laugh brightly, Price talked to the women at the front and worked out how to get you out and back before your next class.

The first day of High school was the same, you were so anxious to get out of the truck. You just sat there, slumped in Price's passenger seat with your eyes closed and your head resting against the headrest.

You said, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked over at him. Your tear-filled eyes broke John's heart, he gently wiped them before smirking.

"Dad..?"

"Yes Princess?"

"Do I have to go in..? I don't want to..."

Price asked in sync with you, making you laugh and wipe your tears.

"If you go in, we'll go get McDonalds-"

"With a strawberry milkshake?"

You smiled and laughed slightly as you took a deep breath and slapped your legs, you grabbed your bag off the truck floor before kissing John's cheek.

"My make-ups smeared now dad..."

"But you're still beautiful Princess."

"Bye dad, I love you. Drive safe!"

You said before jumping out of the truck and slamming the door.

"HEY! EASY ON MY DOORS TIGER! THE TRUCKS OLD!"

Price rolled down his window to yell, a laugh following.

"THEN YOU'RE FUCKING ANCIENT DAD!"

You yelled back as he scoffed and chuckled, you were a snarky little shit. But god damn he was proud of you.

You screamed back before disappearing into the school building.

"CALL ME DURING LUNCH PRINCESS! I'LL PICK YOU UP!"

"I WILL! I LOVE YOU DAD!"

He watched you graduate and god damn he was proud. You had never seen him cry before but... that was the day he did. You cried too, and hugged him tight. Smearing make-up on his uniform as he held you tight and pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he rocked you. He had just gotten off the plane, and had practically sped here, to get to your graduation on time. He was so proud of you, when you graduated. Later that night when the two of you sat on his porch, whiskey in his class and heavily diluted whiskey in yours.

"Where're you going to college?"

Price asked, as he raised the glass to his lips.

"Actually... I'm going to enlist"

Whiskey had never tasted so bitter on his tongue before, never so heavy.

"Are you... sure Princess?"

John asked, looking at you. Concern in his eyes, he watched as you fiddled with the blanket that covered your legs as you sat in the rocking chair. You didn't make eye contact with him, but took a deep breathe.

"I told you when I was little dad... I wanna be just like you..."

"Captain."

Watching you graduate boot his eyes watered before he tapped you out, your legs wrapped around his as he picked you up and he hugged him tight.

No matter how old you got, you were still his princess. The little girl who would beg him to stay the night to watch one more Disney movie and to put one more sticker on his face and one more cookie and one more story before bed and one more hug before he left. You were still the little girl who was so scared to go into middle school, and the little girl who he went dress shopping with for the winter dance, and the little girl who was terrified to get his nails done so he got his done with her so she wouldn't be as scared, the little girl who loved her strawberry milkshakes and would never turn down a race to show off to a boy.

He always saw you as a ten-year-old little girl, his daughter, so when the transfer papers for you landed on his desk. He stared at it, confused before laughing a bit.

This couldn't be right, this was a prank from his boys. So he signed it, knowing it'd get his boys a kick but... when you showed up on his base... his stomach tightened and his face paled. He stared at you, as you got out of the helicopter. He watched as you rushed towards him and... didn't hug him..?

You said, before saluting him.

You thought you had done something wrong, when he just stared at you. A bewildered look on his face before he mumbled.

You said, as his arms wrapped around you. He hugged you tight and you returned it, tears welled in your eyes as you held onto him tight.

"Princess..?"

"Hi Daddy..."

"I've missed you so much Dad..."

"I've missed you more Princess..."

Price said as he broke the hug and moved what hair he had knocked out of place from your face.

He just kept looking at you, you were... so different. War-hardened and scarred... but still his little girl.

"FUCK!"

He didn't want you on this mission.

He didn't want you to be involved with the cartel for this mission, but he didn't have a choice.

He didn't have a choice when you had to be split up from him, he didn't have a choice when you had to go a different direction and route, or when you had to defend yourself against the Shadow Company.

The area fell quiet as their Captain swore, it was... something odd. The group had never heard Price swear or seen him act like this. He rested his head against one of the metal shipping containers before slamming his clenched fist against the chilled metal.

Someone reported and Price pinched the bridge of his nose, his worry lines becoming deeper as he started to pace.

"Where was the last place Pri... Firefly was seen."

"Heading towards the headquarters of the Shadow Company."

When he found you, he wasn't sure what he was expecting but... Graves' arm being wrapped around you... wasn't it. He wasn't expecting to see how your eyes bounced over him, he wasn't expecting to hear a sob to come from you as you fumbled over to him. He held you up and hugged you tight, tucking your head under his chin he shielded you from everyone's view as you gripped him tightly.

Firefly was out there.

One of is his men was out there.

Someone he loved was out there.

Someone he cherished was out there.

His daughter was out there.

God damn it, he was a shitty dad.

"Dad! Daddaddaddaddadddad daddy..."

"I'm here... I'm here Princess... You're safe now... I've got you..."

"He said you were DEAD papa..."

Price promised as he glared down Graves, who had a sickening grin on his lips. Who put his hands up in defeat and backed into the darkness.

You never told John what had happened that day but... he noticed how paranoid you were after. How you'd call him in hysterics when he had left the house with you, how you'd quietly check his bedroom then his office at night. How you'd make excuses to constantly see him, how your eyes would instantly bounce around the room for him, how if he was late for a meeting; you'd be pacing and chewing on your nails, how you'd have night terrors and would scream late at night. How you'd wake yourself up from the hysterical crying and screaming from the terrors, how you wouldn't sleep until morning or until he lured you to the couch and put on that god-forsaken Atlantis movie for at least the ten thousandth time in your life. How, unless you knew he was asleep and in his room, you wouldn't sleep. How you'd be extremely cautious with changing, and how your sleeves would all be long; even in the summer heat, how you always wore pants or leggings, how your hair was down at much as possible.

It wasn't until six months later that you broke down and told him.

"I'm okay, I promise you that Princess. I told you, I'm always going to come home. I promised you I would, I'd never break my promises to you."

You choked out, curled up in John's lap as he wrapped you in blanket and rocked you.

As you cried he slowly stood up, he held you up as he made you cocoa; with the rainbow sprinkles, marshmallows, and whipped cream you loved. He slowly calmed you down as he walked around with you in his arms, rubbing your back as he turned on the Atlantis Soundtrack and walk around gently bouncing you. Just like when you were little.

He said as he gently tucked some hair from your face behind your ear, he hadn't noticed you had fallen asleep until Ghost and Soap came to his home. Having similar issues, and Ghost pointed at you.

John said as he kissed your head and tucked you in, in his bed and shut the light off. He left the door open enough to hear if you woke up, which Soap teased him for but found it sweet.

"Firefly's passed out on your shoulder Price."

"... I know... Let her sleep Simon, she's had a rough night..."

"Dad? Dad!? DAD!?"

You healed enough to have a decent sleep schedule when you had a skewed mission. A bomb went off by your base, which destroyed multiple tents and severely hurt the people inside.

As you were being evacuated, you didn't see John.

You screamed before going back to the tents, you barely saw his body under a tent post in the dark. You ran towards him and did your best to carry him towards the medics.

"MEDIC! MEDIC!"

You screamed as you fumbled into the tent, Price was taken from you and someone tended to you.

Hours passed and you stared blankly at the wall, before you asked your nurse.

"Where's my dad..? John Price..?"

"He was... taken to a different hos-"

"Where."

You demanded to know. As soon as you were told, you (more or less) forced Soap to drive you there.

You looked clinically insane when you burst through the hospital doors and demanded to know where "John Price" was. You found his room and were destroyed to find out that he was in a coma, and you felt like it was your fault.

Your bag hit the floor, with a loud thump, catching John's attention.

You spent months visiting him and just begging for him to wake up, you didn't speak much and just held his hand.

It wasn't until you walked in one day and saw him sitting up, you actually cried.

"Hey Princess..."

He said softly, a gentle smile on his face as he held his arms open for you.

Your feet thumped against the tile of the hospital and you ran to him, you wrapped your arms around him and sobbed.

He said, making you choke out a laugh as he used your callsign.

"Dad... dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad papa..."

"That's me, I'm here Little Firefly..."

He said as he kissed the top of your head and held you close.

"That's Princess to you Dad..."

"I know Y/N, I know..."

You had seen John cry twice in your life, once at your graduation and once at your wedding when he saw you step out of the dressing room. The white dress you had picked out, made him tear up and what made him break was when you gently hugged him and asked.

He responded, holding you close as tears rolled down his face. You were absolutely beautiful in white and... he was so happy to see you so happy. As he walked you down the aisle, he could feel your excitement and when he gave you away... he watched as you took a few steps before turning around and hugging him tight and whispering.

"How do I look Dad..?"

"Like an angel..."

"Thank you Uncle John... I love you so much dad..."

John had to bite back a sob as he walked back to his seat, he felt Gaz's hand on his back as John wiped his tears and watched you.

"Grandpa!"

Little voices screamed as they fumbled out of the truck and rushed towards John, he laughed as he picked the girls up and kissed both of their heads.

A little boy said as he hugged Price's leg, making their grandfather roll his eye and chuckle.

"There's my girls! Have you two been behaving?"

"No! They've been so mean to me Grandpa!"

You said as you walked towards him, holding your youngest on your hip. A gentle smile on your face as Price put the girls down and pulled you into a gentle hug.

"Just like your mother."

"I was a saint, thank you very much dad!"

"Hey my Princess..."

"Hey dad..."

"DADDY!"

You said, in a gentle tone as you relaxed into Price.

Later that night when you and your husband were playing with the kids, he watched as you ran from your husband; playfully screaming as he pelted you with nerf bullets.

You screamed and ran to Price, laughing as you hid behind him, which he (bravely) protected you from your husband by firing nerf bullets back at him.

Watching you be so happy yet... still coming to him and calling him dad... really drove it home to him that.

You'll always be a Daddy's Girl.

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

Anytime (bangchan)

"HEARTS ON FIRE TONIGHT FEEL MY BOOONES IGNITE LOVE FEELS LIKE WAAR WAAR FEELS LIKE WAAAR WAA-". You abruptly stop your tone deaf singing over old all time low songs and gasp when your car suddenly starts slowing down by itself, all the little warning lights on your dashboard turn on simultaneously and a screeching sound starts blaring out of nowhere.

You act in no time. Slamming your foot hard on the break you turn on your right blinker and veer your vehicle on the side of the desolated road by using pure engine inertia until the car just shuts down on its own, leaving you in a stunned silence, bleary eyed and slightly panicky as to whatever the fuck just happened.

You look in your rear view mirror and make sure the road is actually empty and thank whatever god up there for allowing you to pull to the side relatively safely, considering you could have just caused a mass chain rear end collision if it wasn't for your fast instincts. And just the general desolation of this side road you always drive down on your way back home from work when avoiding the worst of traffic is your main priority. Except that it is quite a dark, scarcely illuminated, less than safe road. And you are alone. And your car has most definitely just broken down. And it's almost 9pm on a winter night. Crap.

You swallow down that slimy, unsettling felling creeping up in your throat and try to revive the engine a few more times to no avail. OK. It's fine. It's going to be fine. I'm definitely not just stranded here in the middle of nowhere am I? You talk to yourself out loud, desperately trying to keep your sanity as you finally decide to fish your phone out of your bag and dial up the emergency tow truck number. After a couple rings a dispatcher picks up and you try your best to remain calm and explain the situation you are in as thoroughly as you can: "right, an operator is on its way but it might take up to an hour and half m'am, we suggest you keep safe and display the emergency triangle tripod roadside while you wait".

Once the dispatcher hangs up you sigh in frustration, "now what", you mumble, a shiver already trailing down your back from both the cold and the slight panic threatening to build up in your belly. You do as instructed and then quickly get back in your car, now fully shivering from the cold: how the hell am I gonna wait here in the cold for an hour and not freeze or get robbed in the mean time? Acting merely on impulse you unlock your phone once again and click on the emergency contact icon, silently praying Chan is not currently wearing his thousands dollars noise cancelling headphones in the studio.

"Hello? Y/n what's up?". You exhale loudly, a little silver of hope twinkling in the progressively darker night, "hey Channie… Sorry to call you at this hour…", Chan giggles on the other end of the line and you can almost imagine the way his eyes are crinkling and his dimples are showing, "I've literally just started working, not even 30 minutes ago. I'm a night owl you know", "hahaha yeah… So I uh… I'm kinda stranded on the side of the road? I'm like.. I think I'm like a little under 15 miles away from home but my car broke down… And the emergency truck won't be here for another hour or so", "WHAT? oh my god are you okay?".

You can basically hear Chan springing to his feet so fast his spinning chair rolls away from beneath him, the concern and slight alarm in his voice something you rarely get to hear from him. Chan is and has always been your rock. Through heaven and high water, you knew you could rely on him ever since second grade when one day you had forgotten your lunch box at home and found yourself sitting alone in the school canteen, your stomach grumbling as you watched all the kids eating their meals so enthusiastically, and this little boy with short dark hair and the cutest dimples stepped away from his friends table and offered you half of his sandwich and half of his apple.

That simple, kind gesture had become the start of your almost 2 decade long friendship, he went from always stuffing his lunchbox with extra food for you just in case you forgot again to holding your hand in the ER at 15 when you had the most painful appendicitis to helping you move in into your first big girl apartment, carrying all the heavy boxes for you without you even asking, him being the true gentleman he was. No wonder you loved him to pieces.

"I'm okay, just a little cold", you mumble, trying to mask the uncertainty and panic in your voice, "I'll be right there. Please send me your location. And lock yourself inside. Is the engine totally dead? Can you turn on the radio without starting the ignition?", Chan asks, his voice now more even and calm, his natural care taker mode activating instantly once he assessed the situation.

You try to turn on the radio as he suggested, and to your surprise, it works just fine judging by the sudden blasting of guitar riffs on the very same Love Like War track you were listening to earlier, you flinch at the volume that seems ridiculously too loud now that your basically parked and alone in the dead of the road, and press your button down to lower it a bit.

"Yeah the radio is working fine", "okay, great. Keep it on until I get there, and turn on your mainlights and all four of your blinkers as well". Once again, you do as you're told, you quickly send him your geolocalisation and double check all the lights are still fully functioning while you hear Chan scrambling to grab his keys and jacket and heading out the door, "done. I'm twinkling like a Christmas tree right now", you joke half heartedly, your breath starting to condense from the cold when you speak, "great, santa is coming!", he giggles and the pauses, "do you want me to stay on the line with you?", he asks more seriously, and something pleasant, unexpectedly warm settles in your heart and you smile to yourself, "it's okay. I don't want to risk distracting you while you drive. I'll be here, listening to my emo playlist, you drive safely please", "that's a good idea. It's going to be alright ye? Just hang in there".

You think 15 minutes cannot last an eternity. But that's exactly how long it feels like you've been freezing in the cold for until you see Chan's car pull up. As soon as you see him turning off his headlights you leap out of your car and fly into his open wide arms, instantly crashing into his chest as he lifts you off the ground, hands already vigorously rubbing your back, trying to warm you up:"I don't think I've ever been so relieved, I'm so happy to see you oh my god", you chuckle, your teeth chattering as Chan envelopes you into his arms, even unzipping his jacket and pulling it over your arms to warm you up, and you have to admit…. His jacket smells divine. He smells divine. Signature vanilla and musk and… Manly.

It's inexplicable but Chan has been smelling the same, musky but sweet, fresh, manly scent ever since he was like 19 or so. "Likewise, I'm so happy you're safe", he giggles, patting your hair, "now get in my car and warm yourself up a bit, I turned up the ac and left an extra jacket on the passanger seat for you". There it is. Again. That fuzzy, warm feeling in your heart that makes your cheeks flash red for no reason. "What about you? Are you not going to wait in there for the tow truck with me?", you ask confusedly and he giggles, his deep dimples on full show as he squeaks, "of course I am, I just want to check your car real quick. Maybe push it slightly to the very edge of the road some more so it'll be out of the way should cars drive down here".

You let Chan do his thing and quickly get in his car, just eager to warm yourself up, to finally feel like you have hands again. The night feels so cold your fingers had slowly started to become numb from the low temperatures. Once you're wrapped up in your best friend's spare jacket and huddled close to the air vent, you take a deep breath and stretch out your hands, allowing yourself to relax and soak up the relief running through your veins.

Chan had this power, this ability to make everything feel fine again. You had know him basically your whole life and could recall each and every time he managed to make everything better, each and every time he was there for you, reliable and strong and supportive like no one else you had ever met.

"Ffuck it's cold!". As soon as Chan climbs back in the car he lurches for the air vent, turning up the warm air setting to the maximum and you giggle at his poor state, offering your arms the same way he did for you just a few minutes ago, "aww thank you, sweetheart", he says over your shoulder, thick aussie accent and giggles and all as he squeezes you, a thin layer of sweat from the exertion of having to manually push your car to the side, his still persistent, scent travelling up your nostrils.

You swallow down whatever stupid funny feeling in your throat and sigh happily, "thank YOU for rescuing me, as per usual", you confess, suddenly not feeling like letting go of him just yet, kind of enjoying the way his back muscles feel underneath your palms, the way his arms are tight around you, cocconing you. Chan giggles again and pats your back, his chin digging into your shoulder, his little silver hoop earring getting stuck in your hair, "anytime",he replies and you can tell he's about to pull away from you but something tugs at your insides and before he can even move you're clamping down his back, stretching yourself out of the passanger seat just so you can reach out even more to him and hug him even titghter, "not yet, please don't let go just yet", you murmur.

You're not entirely sure if it's just the adrenaline dying down or the fact that you had tried to power through all your fear and freezing bones and now yuur body just physically needed to be held but you hold on onto him for just a little longer. He goes quiet. He silently pushes back his seat away from the steering wheel and hoists your body up until you're sitting in his lap, your chest firmly pressed into his, his cheek pressed onto the side of your face as he rubs his hands up and down your back.

You smile to yourself at the feeling of being this close to him, this comforted, the warm hair hitting your back, the quiet stillness of this moment that feels slightly surreal. "You are safe now, you know that right? I've got you, nothing bad's gonna happen", Chan speaks softly and you nod, now finally letting go of him while still sitting in his lap, his hands resting tentatively on your hips until you place your own on top of his, silently reassuring him it's okay for him to keep them there: "not a single day goes by where I don't feel safe with you, Chris. You... You are my safe place". You smile at him. A very assured smile too.

You don't even know where all this confidence came out from but you feel calm. Unusually calm and confident and secure, as if you're wrapped up in a warm blanket that'll shield you from all harm. "Really? I'm your safe place?", the young, beautiful man looks at you incredulously, his lips twitching into the biggest grin, and you nod sincerely, "yeah. I figured it's high time I let you know. Though I do fear sometimes you're way too mature for your age and you probably feel like you carry enough of a burden on your shoulders and me adding more responsability on that really isn't ideal but - I mean - like... Yeah like-".

You feel your cheeks heat up and your tongue twisting on its self but you keep at it, you screw your eyes shut and purse your lips together, recollecting your thoughts more coherently before continuing,"what I meant to say is: I'm so grateful for you. You make me feel safe. And secure. Always. And I wish I had told you this sooner but more times than not I think you're already so preoccupied with being this awesome leader and role model and just overall wholesome guy that-that you don't need someone else to take care of and add to the pile of things and people that have put you in this spot. I wish you could be your age and act your age freely, enjoying being young and successful and not just having to always be a fort for everyone".

You catch yourself panting a little from your whole speech and when you finally open your eyes again you find Chan smiling warmly, gazing at you with the gentlest look in his eyes, looking at you as if he's mentally hugging you like he always does with anyone and you just never noticed he did with you too.

He sighs contently and wraps his hands around your fingers, bringing your knuckles up to his chin, stopping just short of his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you, "thank you, y/n. I'm not-I'm not great with taking compliments but...you... I really appreciate every single thing you just mentioned. More than you could ever know. But please don't worry about me, I chose this, I enjoy it. You're never going to be a burden, never going to add to any pile",he pauses, taking a slightly deeper breath before continuing, "you're actually that one thing that makes my heart feel very light, very airy".

You let your fingers slip out of his gentle grip and cup his face, your body moving faster than your mind, your actions preceding your own thoughts as you lean closer and kiss him in the spur and of the moment. His hands immediately flying to your hips, pulling your body closer to his as he enthusiastically kisses you back. And God does it feel good. Does it feel right. Just so right. Unexpectedly but so inevitably right.

"Sorry,mmh I'm sorry", Chan mumbles, his lips still attached to yours as he tries to contain his giggles, "what are you sorry for?", you ask, breathless, and he circles your waist with his arms, resting his forehead against yours, "I should've asked. I definitely should have asked if it was okay to kiss you".

You burst into the happiest giggles and tilt your head back, "Christopher I kissed you. I should have asked. If anyone should be sorry it's me", you admit sincerely but he shakes his head, "I kissed you back. Straight away", "yeah! please do it more", you reply boldly which makes him giggle and giggle and squeak out of pure joy, "does this mean I can ask you out sometimes? And have more kisses?", he teases and you play with the collar of his shirt, pulling at it so he has to speak one inch away from your face, less than an inch away from your lips, "anytime. Any day of the week. Any time of the day or the night", you reply eagerly and this time around he cups your face and pulls you to him, kissing you so sweetly yet so passionately you momentarily forget you're both still in his car, all lights on, alone in the dead of the night until you feel something tapping impatiently on the driver side window: "uhm sorry to interrupt .... This is Ted. Emergency tow truck service, did you guys call?".

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

can you pretty please do more maggie greene🙏 literally anything. i am STARVING!!! FOAMING AT THE MOUTH!!!!! ROLLING AROUND IN THE STREET LIKE A RACCOON WITH RABIES!!!!!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐞

— pairing: maggie greene x fem!plus size reader

— era: modern au/small southern town au

— summary: you were a normal church going girl: you graduated high school with good grades, read the bible and prayed, but that was all shattered by the time you met the brunette enigma by the name of maggie greene.

— warnings: depictions of toxic religious practices, toxic religious small towns, homophobia, internalized homophobia, the reader is lesbian coded but can be read by any wlw :], porn with feelings, sex in a hayloft, kissing, a crazy amount of dirty talk, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, teasing, maggie is a tease, bisexual maggie greene, homosexual sex.

— wc: 3384

⋆ a/n: WOW, so welcome to the 3k religious small-town au of maggie that no one asked for!!! this is deeply inspired by 'once more to see you' by mitski, and honestly i've been stewing on this idea for a while before i actually got the nerve to upload it. in no way am i slandering religious/religions of any kind, and honestly i didn't even give the reader and maggie a specific religion, everything is just kind of vague for imagination purposes.

masterlist | AO3

A small southern town, a church, a pretty girl, and a predestined bad ending.

You often recall the beginning of the rest of your life. The young woman you had a crush on was peering over at you from the pew next to yours, a playful grin threatening to take over her face when it looked like she had finally gotten your attention.

You remember your face heating, a faint blush spreading from your ears to your cheeks as you quickly looked away. Your hands that were once lightly clasped in prayer tightened, the palms of your hands pressing together with no space left between them. You had gulped nervously before looking back at her again to find that she was still looking at you, intrigue tugged at your gut.

It was temptation, and that was a sin; and yet… you couldn’t really find it within yourself to care. You held her gaze, before allowing yourself to smile at her shyly. The only word you could use to describe her was beaming. She radiated everything that was good, she encompassed the stars and moon in her eyes.

You didn’t know it then, but you’d learn to crave her intense stares, her attention, more than a normal girl in a normal female friendship would. You hated the sickening feeling of jealousy that would encompass you when she’d send that signature playful smile to, well… anyone really.

Your parents approved of her – not in the way you wanted them to – a nice church going girl that wanted to come over so you could read the bible together? Why, she was better than those heathens you called friends (the ones with dyed hairs and outspoken opinions).

In your small town, anyone who spoke out against the narrow-minded ideas of your extremely conservative community were alienated. They were wrong. Sinners. And God forgive those who others perceive as queer.

Now that was the worst sin of all.

Your throat would close up whenever your parents would bring up those “damned queers” and how they’re indoctrinating the poor, fragile minds of the growing youth. 

You knew, how could you not know? You knew the way you felt and admired women was different from those around you. Other girls didn’t get the urge to kiss other girls, they didn’t feel that horrible, nasty feeling of lust whenever another woman would even show a mildly suggestive sliver of skin on TV.

Suddenly, dinner didn’t sound that good anymore.

But then there was Maggie. Sweet, beautiful, playful Maggie.

And the devil in disguise.

She wasn’t all she had made herself out to be to those around her; she wasn’t the mild mannered, polite southern girl, she was mischievous, and playful, and… and tempting kind. She was your rock, the one that kept you grounded to the earth when the gravity of your thoughts threatened to take you away to somewhere far away.

She also pulled you out of your comfort zone, daring you to do something you had never even dared to do before. One of those things being sneaking out to the Hayloft of her father’s barn. 

It was a smelly old thing, humid and hot and everything wrong with Virginia, but most importantly it was your spot. Something that you shared with her. Even though you will always want more, being there with her was enough. It had to be enough.

You shivered at the warm air that entered your now opened window, which completely contrasted the cold air circulating through your house. Your parents had just gone down not even an hour before, but your mother, bless her heart, was so wine drunk that your father had to whisk her away to save her further mortification due to her drunken rambling.

In a strange way, knowing your mother had her flaws was comforting.

You split out quietly through the gap you had left, though due to the house being old, the thing was fidgety, so you shoved a book through the bottom to keep it open. It didn’t take you long to make it to that signature white wood chipped barn, butterflies swirling around in your gut at the thought of her being there.

“Howdy.” Maggie greeted from the top of the barn.

You jumped in surprise, clutching your chest over your speeding heart.

“Gosh Mags! You scared me! I wasn’t even halfway through the door yet!” You exclaimed quietly, but nevertheless made to climb up the ladder leading to the Hayloft above.

“Sorry hun, jus’ couldn’t wait.”

Ah, the nicknames. 

Warm giddiness flowed through your veins as you set your backpack down, pulling out a blanket and a chip bag or two.

“How’d you get these?” Maggie questioned at the sight of the fattening food. You just shrug with a shy smile, “I bought ‘em when I offered to go get the groceries.”

The thing about being a fat girl in a small town is that your mom had to control it, you represented her after all. You were supposed to be the exact reflection of her, and she was most definitely not your size. So your weight was another thing she had to keep in line (aside from your sexual virtue of course.)

“Whew,” She blew out a whistled breath. “Yer growin’ darin’, girl, arent’cha?” You blushed, casting your gaze to the open part of the roof – a hole her father and brother hadn’t been able to patch yet.

It was a clear view of the darkened sky, the stars glaring despite the heat of the night.

“I guess I learned from the best.” You said cheekily. “Real darin’.” She bit back.

The tension was palpable between the two of you, but you could never – couldn’t – allow it to grow, to reach its peak. You looked away first, scrambling to try and act natural as you adjusted yourself on top of the blanket Maggie had already put down. You let the airy blanket you had brought drape over your jean covered crossed legs, almost acting as a barrier between you and your forbidden want.

Your heart was racing and your lungs were aching but God, nothing compared to the pang of longing that shot through you like a bullet had shattered into fragments. 

Maggie had allowed you to slip away from her grasp once again, which you were grateful for.

She settled beside you, her own crossed legs bumping into yours, not a sliver of space between you. She had let you go, but not for long. The push and pull was beginning to grow shorter and shorter on her end, it was up to you to keep extending her more length. You had to.

After a beat of silence she said, “You ever dream of gettin’ outta here?”

You look at her, startled. “All the time.” You couldn’t stop yourself from saying.

If she was shocked by your confession, she didn’t say anything. “Why?” Was all she asked. “Because…” Because I always feel like my family’s constantly breathing down my neck, because I feel suffocated, because I can’t truly be who I am without being called an abomination. 

Because I love you.

“Because I’ve always wanted to see the city.” You finally say with another half-hearted shrug. 

“What if I could take you there?”

“What?” You breathed out in confusion, whipping your head around to look at her with furrowed brows.

“What if I could take you to the city, would you come with me?”

“I…” Yes, you want to say, I’d go anywhere with you. “It’s not good to entertain thoughts like this.” A loaded statement and you know it. 

“Oh please, don’t hit me with that bullshit.” She scoffed. “I’m not, I’m being serious! We have our family to think about. We can't just… we can’t just leave. We have a life here, we can… we are growing a life here.” With each other. 

“You don’t want that.” She says. It’s a statement not a question. “You don’t want that. I know it and you know it. And trust me, I don’t want whatever future you’re thinking of either.”

“Oh, yeah? And what future am I thinking of that’s so bad that even the big bad Maggie Greene can’t see a way out besides leaving?” You snapped. The question was ugly, and it was meant to hurt. 

“The one where we grow old and act like we’re not in love with each other! Where we practically damn ourselves to hell everyday just by seeing each other, and yet we choose to condemn our lives to those with men and children we both would never truly love.” She takes your now trembling hand in hers. 

“You’re envisioning a nightmare, and I am imagining a dream. A dream where we’re together in the city in a big, stupid penthouse that we both love, where we can both be free without some bible thumpers knocking at our door telling us that our love is wrong.”

You stare at her with glassy eyes, shined over with tears that threaten to pool over the edges like an unsealed jar.

“Maggie…” Was it a plea? A whimper? A beg? A beg to stop her from getting your hopes up.

“We… we can’t.” The devastation is clear in your voice and you try to pull your hand away but she won’t let you. Her grip tightens, her voice tight. “No, no more. Stop runnin’ away from me, from us. I know yer scared but… but we could do this. Are we not allowed to want this one thing to ourselves? Why can’t we just be a little selfish?”

Your eyelids flutter shut but she knows your resolve is crumbling bit by bit.

“We…” You sob. “We can’t.” It’s weak, even to your own ears. You don’t believe it, not anymore. She was right. Why couldn’t you be selfish? Your whole life you had just given and given and given until you were left wringing out a towel that was already dry.

“We can.” Was all she could say to counter your tears.

The Hayloft was silent, as if the world had heard the confession of two girls in love and captured it, tucking it away to remain safely under the stars, the moon the only one bearing witness to the raw and exposed emotions.

“Maggie?” You said after a short amount of time of her thumb stroking across the soft skin of your knuckles. “Yes, baby?” 

“Kiss me?” 

Her eyes widened at your request, but she didn’t hesitate to lean in closer, her lips brushing up against yours for a sweet moment.

“I love you.” Maybe you could blame it on being in the heat of the moment, or maybe a slip of the tongue, but no, you were tired of pushing her away, you were tired of running.

It felt like for the past two years you’ve known her all you’ve done is run; run from yourself, run from the expectations of your family, run from the church, run, run, run. You wanted to sit down and enjoy life for one detrimental moment.

“I love you too.” The confession brought a smile to both of your faces before she finally pressed your lips together.

It wasn’t magical, there weren't bells or an explosion of colors behind your eyelids. No, this was her, the warmth of her body, the silent creaking of the old wood under you as she shifted closer into your space, the sound of crickets and frogs making noise in the creek next not even a few feet away hidden by the treeline. 

You created this kiss. This was yours and Maggie’s. No one else's. 

It was sweet at first, the feeling of heartache being replaced by the indistinguishable emotion that was relief. Pure relief. Relief to finally have her in your arms. To feel her.

Your lips parted in a gasp in order to try and catch your breath, but traced the seam of it with her tongue. You shudder despite the heat. She was pressing against you, like she was trying to shove you back.

“Lay down fer me?” She questions softly. Your stomach twists for a moment in fear before dissipating. This was Maggie. Maggie. Maggie.

You follow her ask, the woman slipping a thigh through your legs so she can balance the other one on the outside of you. Her hand never left its cradling form on your face, the other holding herself up above you. 

When the muscle of her tongue finally slipped inside your mouth, that’s when her leg twitches forward, like she was trying to swallow you whole. Her knee brushed against your pant covered heat and you whined.

“Maggie…” You whimper, your hands that are placed timidly on her shoulders tighten a bit, the dull pads of your fingers digging into her shoulder blades.

“How far do you wanna go?”

You knew what she meant.

Sex was already such a taboo subject, but homosexual sex between two women? That was enough to give any old conservative woman a heart attack. You knew you should tell her to stop, to say that kissing and planning your future together was enough, but it wasn’t. Now that you finally allowed yourself to let go, you want everything you’ve deprived yourself of.

“As far as you want.” You confess breathlessly. “No promise I have any idea of what I’m doing but I – but I want everything with you. Whatever you want. I’ll go anywhere with you.”

Her heated expression turned soft before it turned salacious.

“You don’t need to do anything sweetheart, jus’ let me do all the work, ‘kay? Gonna make you feel so good.” She all but purred. “Whatever you want.” You gasped as she placed kisses down the sensitive and unexplored part of your neck.

“Mags no marks…” You moan as she travels lower. “I know what ‘m doin’ sweet girl, stop worrying that pretty little head of yours and let go, yeah?”

You breath hitches at the feeling of her nimble, deft fingers working at the buttons of your jeans, her lips cradled at the shell of your ear. The puff of air sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah.” You agreed easily. 

“Good girl.” She cooed and your cheeks bloomed a pretty heat in embarrassment.

Maggie hooks her fingers in the material at your pants and tugs them down your thick thighs, getting caught over the curve of your ass.

“Lift your hips up.” She demands softly, and you eagerly oblige. 

She tugs them the rest of the way down, discarding them carelessly off to the side.

“You good?” She questions. “Yes, yeah, yes – please just… please don’t stop.” You all but beg. “I won’t honey, I got you.”

She works your panties down your legs, leaving you exposed to her hungry gaze. 

“Don’t stare.” You mumble shyly. “How can I not? You look so pretty.” You huff at the teasing tone in her voice. “Shush.” You bite without any malice, closing your legs to disrupt her view of your soaking cunt.

“Aw, baby, don’t be like that.” She laughs leaning her body into your space to separate your legs with her own body. Her eyes are trained on you and you gulp. “Hi.” You breathe. “Hey yourself.” She giggles. 

The tender moment continues when she leans down to join your mouths together softly. You close your eyes and lean into her, arms wrapping loosely around her neck oblivious to the wandering hand that slithers its way between the two of you.

When her fingertips brush against your wet slit you gasp, mouth falling open and inviting to assault as her tongue weaves its way into it again. Your tongues fight for a moment before you submit to hear, tiny whimpers piercing the serene and murky atmosphere. 

Maggie’s finger dips into the wetness, searching along before stopping on top of your clit, which she gives an experimental rub against.

“Oh!” You cry out, your hips stuttering. “‘M sensitive.” She coos, continuing now in fast circles. They’re just two finger pads pressed against the bud, but it feels like everything. Your breath gets caught in your throat once more and your eyes flutter shut.

“That feels… so…” You can’t find the words because it feels like your brain is shutting down. “Good, amazing, fantastic?” She lists out through a shit-eating smirk. You can’t find it within yourself to chide her, not when she stops and sinks one of her fingers into your heat.

“Ah – gosh, Maggie!”

“Shh, beautiful girl. I know we're outside but you gotta lower it, alright?”

“Mhm, whatever you want.” You said dazedly. Your head fell back when her thumb began drawing figure-eights on your clit. She laughs fondly, placing a heated kiss on your lips.

“Gonna add another one, ‘kay? It’ll feel a bit weird but I swear it’ll get better.” She warns. “It’s okay, I trust you.” You reassure despite the pleasure cloud in your mind. “Good.”

A second finger slips in, and though it’s a bit uncomfortable it’s quickly overridden by the proper wrist work of her hand. Something coils in your stomach, and it’s so tight and it makes you feel so desperate, like your nerves are on fire.

“Another one.” You demand breathlessly. “I gotta – I need another one. I’m so close and I don’t know – I…” 

“Sh, sh, sh. Alright, baby. Three fingers already? Wow, what a good girl, always knew you could take it.” She coos and you tremble. “You’ve thought of me like this?” You ask through pinched brows. “Uh huh. Thought of you when I was alone in my room at night with a hand shoved down my pants, thought of you when those pretty little lips of your spoke or smiled, thought of you when you wore those nice flowing skirts and those tight dresses.” She rambled.

“Could go on and on ‘bout how crazy you make me.”

Her dirty words all but shoved you to your end.

“You ever think ‘bout me?” 

“Huh?” You asked intelligently. “You ever thought ‘bout getting fucked by me? Oh, better yet, you ever thought about fucking me?”

“God – Maggie! Yes, yes, I!” It all happened too fast. One moment all of the fantasies of her had crossed your mind; her bare breasts, the taste of her, how she would sound. It was all too much, and you clenched down on her fingers like a vice, but she didn’t seem to mind, only curling them fast against your g-spot, her thumb relentless on its quest to give you a mind blowing orgasm.

“That’s it, get my hand messy, uh huh…” Maggie sounded dazed herself as she watched you squirm and clench and tremble, transfixed on the space between you. Your back arched into her, your own digits tangling in her now sweat soaked hair, drips of the liquid falling on your face.

Maybe any other time you would care, but not when she was deep in you.

You came down with a sigh, back finally flattening from its twisted up position. Your thighs fell apart and her fingers left you, the woman wiping them on the blanket below.

“Holy. Fuck.” Maggie laughed and you couldn’t help but join her, your already burning lungs struggling to contract to the new emotion.

“That was… wow.”

“A little bit better than wow, but I’ll take it.” She teased, falling to lay next to you. 

As you came down, you placed your hands over your full stomach, fingers interlacing together as you turned to stare at her. “What about you?” You asked. Your eyes trailed down to the spot between her legs. 

“What about me? We’ve always got next time, ya know? In the big city, in a nice plush bed and ac. Maybe even with a few candles lit compared to horse shit.”

You laughed again, but your stomach didn’t curl when she mentioned going to the city together. If anything, it was filled with excitement and hope. Hope hasn’t been something you felt for a long time.

You reached over and gripped her dirty hand.

“I love you, you know?” You questioned quietly into the air.

“Yeah,” She began, lifting to bring your palm up so she could kiss the back of it before letting it fall back on your stomach carelessly.

“I know.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon

[redahlia-writes]

be still my foolish heart. | joel miller

Abstract: He still felt unsure, unsteady, both wanting to keep her at arm’s length and welcoming her back in his life like before, drown in the comfort he’d found in her presence year after year since they were kids. She’d tried to reassure him, and he knew she was right–you could not live in the world they did and not change. But he remembered her in pigtails on the first day of school, he remembered her prom dress being awfully 80s, and he remembered the first time he’d seen her with Sarah–gentle voiced and wide eyed, holding her as if she might shatter should she breathe a little too hard.

Words: 9.7k

Content: f!reader (called “sugar” as a nickname, described as shorter than joel); childhood friends to lovers, mentions of child’s death, grief, mentions of attempted suicide, PTDS, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, this was supposed to be about joel and sugar but there’s a lot of joel/ellie too. a lot, idiots in love, slow(ish) burn, ellie being a loving little shit, canon divergence (they get to jackson and don’t leave but i never explain why), some very minor spoilers for tlou2, purple prose, unedited

A/N: loosely inspired by almost (sweet music) by hozier; the song they listen to is night and day and can be found in ella fitzgerald sings the cole porter song book (1956). 

also on AO3 - masterlist

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

Ellie had never seen a deer in headlights, only saw pictures of the creatures and heard the expression every now and then from older people.

She imagined the way Joel looked in that moment was what they meant.

Frozen still, eyes wide and lips parted, even holding his breath if the lack of condensation by his face was any indicator, Joel stood next to his brother with his back straight, the only indication he hadn’t suddenly turned into a piece of rock the light twitch in his right hand.

There’s someone you should see, Tommy had told him, half a day after they’d gotten to Jackson–they’d had time to eat and leave the few stuff they still had in the house, and right before she could hit the shower Tommy had walked in. Not keen on the idea of being left alone, Ellie had followed the Millers quietly. Joel had even teased her about it.

“Who’s the quiet one now?” she’d huffed at Joel’s sudden immobility. Tommy had looked at her with that half grin that she imagined Joel must’ve had, too, at some point, and then lifted his arm to wave a hand in the direction of a small group by the school. A woman pulled her head up, a green woolen hat low on her brow, and then waved back, a smile visible even from there. “Anyone you know?” she asked, looking back at Joel.

He still did not bat an eye.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she exclaimed, extricating herself from the rest of the group with a quick apology. “Joel Miller,” she called, the name rolling with a certain familiarity out of her mouth as she approached them, brushing some snow from her coat.

“Sugar?” the word came out strangled–his mouth was dry, the ground unstable beneath him. Suddenly, he wasn’t 56 anymore but 16 years old, and around him a shitty classroom that could do with some fixing, or an all too familiar living room, a cluttered bedroom with dark walls–and the smile he was offered had not changed a bit.

“Sugar?” Ellie echoed, a little baffled. Her eyes darted towards the girl, a glint of curiosity.

“Only one who still called me that after we left high-school,” the woman chuckled, stepping forward with her arms open. “Come on, c’mere–it’s been too long.”

Joel hesitated–when was the last time he’d hugged someone? Maybe Tess, though he could not remember when, but that had always been more a clinging-to-each-other type of thing. A hug, that was different, and he felt stuck on the spot all over again.

Before he could overthink it too much, Ellie pushed him forward, making him grunt in protest as he almost fell into the woman’s embrace–he wrapped his arms around her, the movement somewhat foreign, and slowly leaned into it. Despite the cold and snow, she was warm underneath all the layers of clothing she donned, and smelled of freshly cut grass. It reminded him of another time, and if he closed his eyes he could almost see it. He exhaled.

“You stink, Miller–how long have you been out there?” she laughed softly, one hand cupping the back of his head, same way she used to when they were younger. He remembered dancing.

“A while,” he admitted, unable to argue with that, easing into the embrace furthermore. “Sorry,” he added, and she patted his shoulder gently, another delicate chuckle that rang crystalline to his ears.

“I’ve had it worse, it’s alright,” she murmured, chin hooked over his shoulder–he could feel her straining to stand on her tiptoes, slightly unbalanced, and lowered himself against her, face buried in the curve of her neck wrapped by a soft scarf that matched the hat. She sighed softly at the movement, her fingertips scratching across his scalp. “God, it’s good to see you.”

“You, too,” voice slightly muffled and blind to the world, Joel was able to admit that. Maybe it was nostalgia, making him forget everything else for a few moments as he lingered in the peacefulness of that familiar touch, or maybe it was exhaustion, blurring the edges between who he used to be and who he was now.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” she whispered then, and it felt like ice through his veins. He pulled back slightly, the urge to run away making his limbs tremble–but she kept him caged in, the arm around his shoulders stronger than he remembered (was he tired? Was he too out of it?), and the hand that had brushed his hair falling to his cheek, brushing away some of the grime he’d grown used to by then.

But it was her gaze that kept him rooted, though, that softness he didn’t think could still exist in the world they lived in, and emotions he had almost forgotten, ignoring them each time they presented themselves–it’d be too risky to feel them, too easy to surrender to it again: sorrow, grief. It cut his breath all over again.

“Tommy told me,” she kept her voice low, her touch gentle, rubbing her thumb across his uneven beard. The bustling in the air was foreign after so many months of quiet, and he wasn’t sure which one made his body ache–the current life, or the past death.

“Of course he did,” he scoffed, and her expression shifted, a reprimand in her gaze that used to make him laugh when they were younger, and furthermore when she grew into that same expression, year after year of standing together.

“Joel,” she chided, still soft-voiced, still attempting to comfort him through that small motion on his face. He remembered that touch and kind, encouraging words with a baby in his arms; he remembered his name called out through laughter–hers, his daughter’s; he remembered winters and summers and years before that. He closed his eyes, a furrow in his brow.

“No, of course he did,” he exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “Sorry, it’s just–she really liked you, you know?” his eyes remained closed, trying to push back the pressure building behind his eyelids, trying to swallow the knot in his throat.

“I know,” he felt her nod, press herself closer just as her name was called from behind them. When he looked up at her again, her eyes were shimmering, that vulnerability he hadn’t had the courage to show again after the ringing in his right ear had stopped. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, bringing her other hand to his face, too, holding him like that. He nodded, afraid that if he spoke right away he would crumble.

All it had taken was a gentler touch, and he was ready to fall apart.

“You oughta go–looks like you’re needed,” he cleared his throat, the damn knot clinging to his larynx seemingly impossible to push away. She looked over her shoulder, the group she was with before waving her over, and sighed before turning back towards him.

They still hadn’t let go of each other, and neither seemed willing to make the first move.

“I’m expecting you all for dinner,” she spoke a little louder then, turning her head as if to look past Joel’s shoulder but without moving her gaze from him. “Alright, Tommy?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the younger Miller called, his eyes returning to the pair after having wandered elsewhere for the duration of their reunion–the most privacy that could be given in that context. Ellie hadn’t been as subtle, her head tilted and a curious look in her eyes at the sudden burst of emotion that seemed to roll off Joel’s back. It was astounding. 

In the end, she was the first to depart, a kiss to Joel’s cheek that seemed to melt away what little tension was left in him. He stumbled back as she walked towards the group, one last look over her shoulder that ended up being directed towards Ellie, a quick smile and small wave she returned, somewhat unsure.

“I felt the same way,” Tommy rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder, as if to shake him from the haze that seemed to have permeated him thoroughly.

“She been here long?” he was frowning again, forcing his gaze away from the back of her head to look at Tommy. The younger Miller nodded a couple of times.

“Even before I got here,” he said, slowly beginning to lead him away, Joel seemingly rooted to the spot once more. “You know Sugar, she’s always been a step ahead of us,” he added, and in his murmur there was a fond smile.

“Sugar?” Ellie repeated, her eyebrows arched with her returned bafflement.

“Just a stupid nickname,” Joel muttered, shaking himself off in a way that seemed more a recoil–he turned and cleared his throat. “Old nickname. Don’t even know who came up with it in school. It stuck.”

“For you it stuck,” Tommy was smiling, clearly amused. They seemed so different, Ellie thought. Had they always been like that? She wondered if she could ask her. “Pure irony, really,” Tommy continued, addressing her. “She always fought people–a real spitfire.”

“You only say that because you got slapped,” Ellie’s eyebrows arched furthermore at Joel’s scoff, a tint of amusement in his words.

“And you,” the younger Miller retorted, making Ellie’s lips part.

“Oh, I like her,” she exclaimed, turning to look at her–she was back at work, the scarf now covering the lower part of her face, though she could still hear her laughter ring clear.

A week later, they stood in her living room.

Though they’d met again around town after that first day, it had taken both Joel and Ellie a moment to settle in. The house felt odd for them both–Ellie having never had one, Joel not remembering his old one. It helped that she lived just around the corner, and in the morning he’d see her walk by to head towards the center.

Slowly, he found a routine, found a way to make himself useful, and leaned into it. Ellie was wilder, refusing to go to school and spending most of her time in her bedroom, Walkman constantly on as she went through pages and pages of old diaries, old books. 

“Wanna come to this thing with me?” was the only thing he asked her that night–they threaded carefully around each other, murmured confessions before he sent her to bed at night (the only thing he was firm with, leaving her her space otherwise). It wasn’t time that did it, Ellie’s head resting on his shoulder as she fiddled with the new record he’d found for her. When I got bit in the mall I wasn’t on my own, Riley’s name bitter on her tongue.

“What thing?” Joel’s hair was slicked back, a new shirt Tommy had gotten for him along with his jacket. He actually looked put together, which was the reason why Ellie sat up quickly. “Are you going to Sugar’s?”

“Stop calling her that,” he muttered, though it was the only way he ever referred her as–old habits, he thought. “Yeah–Tommy and Maria are gonna be there too, we’re all adults so if–”

“Let’s go,” she hopped up.

And so they were in her living room, scarcely decorated but recognisable as hers nonetheless, and Ellie walked around the place with a curious gaze, hands fidgeting at her sides.

“How did you convince her to come here?” Maria asked quietly, as the three of them waited for the lady of the house–she had categorically refused any help in the kitchen, ordering them to wait by the set table. Old habits, Joel thought again.

“I didn’t,” he shrugged, watching the kid linger at a picture set in a cracked frame, the dance of her fingers ceasing for just a moment. “I think she likes her–probably has to do with the slapping stories.”

“Definitely has to do with the slapping stories,” Tommy chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Ellie asked, without turning to look at them. “Actually–him I can understand,” Joel scowled at Ellie’s remark while she pointed at him, spinning around to face the three of them. “But why did she hit you?” Maria chuckled at that, while Tommy almost choked on his drink and his face burned a brighter shade of red.

“Ah, well, I–” he cleared his throat–it was another time, he thought. So many years before. “I–kind of made a move on her. And then told her I was gonna join the army,” he rubbed his jaw, some sort of nervous twitch as he glanced in a grinning Maria’s direction. “Still not sure which one pissed her off more.”

“The army,” she said, coming into the living room while holding a fuming pot she was quick to place on the table. Joel’s posture changed, a slight shift towards her by the head of the table and his head twisting so that his gaze would be on her, the ghost of a smile across his lips. “If one of you was going to be a self-sacrificing idiot and leave, I expected that to be Joel.”

“You shipped yourself off to college,” Tommy protested as they sat down–Joel remained next to her on left, Ellie next to him (she didn’t like being on his deaf side, but she preferred it to sitting away), Tommy and Maria on the other side.

“Definitely not the same thing,” she wrinkled her nose in a half-grimace, plating up the food–whatever it was, Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she’d smelled something so good, her stomach already grumbling. Tommy scoffed lightly, passing on the plates.

“Wait, you made a move? If anything I thought–” before Ellie could finish the sentence, Joel pinched her leg, making her yelp and turn to him wide-eyed. “What the hell was that for?”

“Manners,” he muttered–at the corner of his eye, the woman tried to fight off a smile, setting the last plate in front of him. “Eat your food.”

She looked at the older Miller and the kid throughout the dinner and the chats, the scowls and grins, his reprimands and her sharp tongue. It was a familiar scene, late dinners stolen in a living room she once knew like it was her own.

The younger brother leaving early on was familiar, too, Maria tiring easily from the pregnancy and Tommy refusing to leave her side for longer than necessary–her heart ached at the thought of Tommy Miller having grown up, until it functioned as a reminder that growing up in their world now meant surviving. It was easier to think of it like that.

“Just means you’re gonna have to come back for dessert,” she said as Maria hugged her, winking in Tommy’s direction, too.

“We should get going, too,” Joel cleared his throat once it was just the three of them, heading for the rack where his and Ellie’s jacket hung. She had the fleeting thought that he was trying to avoid being alone with her–though they weren’t really alone–as he had for the whole week. A quick greeting and then away, never lingering too much around her. She figured it was because he was still settling in–hoped that was the reason, in spite of the years gone by.

“But I want dessert!” the girl protested, still sat at the table (by herself).

“Ellie,” he sighed heavily, not turning to look at her as picked up her coat.

“Joel,” she retorted in the same tone, unmoving. The woman looked between the two of them with an eyebrow arched, fighting the smile off of her lips the moment Joel sighed again, head falling forward. It wasn’t needed, but Ellie took it a step further, softening her voice for a, “Please?”

Joel Miller had always had a hard time saying no to his daughter. Guess things hadn’t changed that much.

“If we’re bothering–” he started, his gaze flicking from Ellie to her.

“Oh, quit that, Miller,” she scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Ellie, grab your plate, come,” Joel remained frozen for a moment as the girl beamed, standing with the plate in her hands and quickly following her towards the kitchen. A beat, and then he went after them, bringing with him the rest of the dirty dishes they’d left behind.

“What is that?” Ellie had stopped abruptly at the entrance of the kitchen, eyes wide, forcing Joel to walk around her at the last moment, stumbling towards the woman who was placing a tray onto the counter. He lingered a moment, his gaze following the twisted pattern made of golden dough, and once more he felt transported back ages in time.

“My mama’s apple pie,” she said gently, a smile grazing her face–there was a bitterness to it, too, with the realization that that was probably the first time Ellie saw one outside of pictures. “We produce the flour ourselves, and have the dogs check it for possible contamination, so it’s safe,” Joel could almost see the hope in her eyes in trying to reassure the kid, grabbing the knife and offering it to her by the handle. “Wanna have a go?”

Ellie’s eyes shimmered with excitement as she took the sharp knife, getting closer to her–she leaned with one arm on the counter, while with the other hand she showed her where to start, mimicking the movement of cutting down towards the crust. As he placed the dirty dishes in the sink, Joel inhaled deeply, the perfume coming out of the still warm filling in fumes.

“Jesus,” he muttered with a soft groan, turning around quickly. Ellie stilled, her gaze flickering from where she held the knife up to him, then back to the grinning woman who was looking at him, too. “Sorry.”

“You know, your–” she stopped herself, clearing her throat before straightening her back. “Joel would always know when we made this at my place. I don’t know how but he did–never failed to show up when my mama got one in the oven.”

“Sixth sense,” Joel chuckled, getting closer as well, his mouth already watering. “Smells just like then,” he mumbled, shifting on the spot when she bumped her hip against him, her smile widening. “You know, Sarah wanted to call you to bring it over, before–” he cut himself off.

Ellie shuffled on the spot, the knife in her hand a sudden weight she didn’t like–Joel had mentioned just in passing Sarah to her, admitting first and foremost to her existence, half-joking over their differences. But whenever he did his eyes would go unfocused, gaze dropping to the broken watch.

She watched as the woman pressed herself slightly closer, hand brushing the back of Joel’s, right up to the cracked watch before she even looked up, the movement seemingly enough to draw Joel’s attention towards her; she watched as the man cleared his throat, right hand twitching before he exhaled, pulling back as if in afterthought, reaching for the cupboard; she watched Sugar’s head drop slightly, and then straighten again with a forced smile in her direction. Ellie returned it tentatively.

“Alright, kiddo–it’s best when it’s warm,” she encouraged, taking the knife from her as Joel returned with clean plates. She deposited the slice on one, pushing it in Ellie’s direction. “Too bad we haven’t got any ice cream, tastes even better with that.”

“Can’t miss what I never tried, right?” Ellie shrugged, that crooked smile still on. “Thanks,” she added then, stepping away, back towards the living room. She’d started to learn when others needed space.

“Joel,” his name whispered was like a bucket of ice water thrown in his face, a shuddering breath leaving him when he turned to look at her. Her head was slightly tilted, a soft gaze that tethered on mournful. Joel didn’t want pity. He wanted so much, but not pity.

“Can’t,” he said through gritted teeth. Her hand reached for him again, slower, fingers brushing his knuckles as they whitened with the clench of his fists above the counter. “Sugar, I can’t,” he repeated, looking down. She pressed her palm over the back of his hand, a firm knead to unfurl his fingers from where they pushed into his own palm, blunt nails still leaving their mark. He shook his head.

“It’s just me,” she kept her voice low, soft.

Tommy had told her a lot–the whole of it, really. Sarah’s death. Joel’s attempt. The shift in him–the shift in them both, but mostly Joel. The anger. The bad, awful things they’d done. The anger, the only thing Joel seemed to have felt for the past 20 years.

It nearly broke her heart.

“I know,” his eyes flickered towards the door leading to the living room, Ellie’s head peeking from behind the backrest of the armchair. “You haven’t changed one bit, but I–”

“That’s not true,” she shook her head, scooting closer. “I have. Everybody has. We had to,” curling her fingers around his hand, she slowly picked it up, bringing it closer to her. There were calluses on her fingers he didn’t remember from the years before, lines across her face he thought were a trick of the light. “You think you lost your humanity when Sarah died, but that’s not true,” she tilted her head towards the living room, gaze flickering to Ellie, the scrape of the fork against the plate the only sound coming from her. “She’s proof of that. You must see that.”

“She was a job,” his hand felt cold in hers, fingers twitching slightly. Each time, she squeezed it softly, bringing it closer to her stomach. He could feel her warmth even like that.

“She was,” she nodded in agreement, shifting so she could meet his gaze. “And now?”

“It’s complicated,” he returned, and a bittersweet smile grazed her lips.

“You always saw things as more complicated than they actually were,” she let go of him, and Joel clenched his hand suspended mid-air in her direction, while she turned towards the counter, taking the knife up again to cut two more slices of pie and plate them. “Perhaps you’re not exactly your old self, but you’re still almost you, no matter what you tell yourself, Joel,” she pushed one of the plates in his direction, glancing at him once more. “Eat up.”

Joel had a hard time breathing. It happened less frequently–it had been weeks since his last episode, he’d almost forgotten about it–but it still did, every now and then. He hated it.

He wasn’t sure what triggered it: he wasn’t doing anything specific, was just thinking about how to fix the creaky step that led up and down his patio, when all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe and his chest ached, right in the middle, like a weight trying to pin him down against the ground–but the ground didn’t feel stable, and he had to lean against the wall for support while everything spun around him.

Worst of all was the ringing in his ears. He’d gotten used to the muffled sounds in his right ear, and the sudden high pitched noise made him dizzy, made his vision waiver, made him unable to exhale. The next breath scratched at his throat, like a badly chewed bite refusing to go down, no matter how many times he tried to swallow.

“Dad?” he gasped, the town suddenly in front of him again. The edges were still blurred, but right in front of him stood Ellie–a few steps behind, Sugar had her head tilted, a curious gaze in her eyes.

“What?” his voice rang still distant, somehow, and he shook his head, trying to clear the clouds away.

“I said are you alright?” Ellie frowned, getting a step closer. “Joel, are you going deaf in both ears?” she asked, and that melted away the tension in Joel’s shoulders with a sigh.

“Very funny,” he muttered, pushing himself off from the school wall. “I just got distracted, is all. You ready?” he cleared his throat, glancing briefly in the woman’s direction.

“You know you don’t have to come get me every day, right?” Ellie mumbled, moving at his side. “It’s not like I can run away,” Joel gave her a look–eyebrows arched, head slightly tilted, that same expression he used when Tommy said something dumb. Ellie could almost hear it.

You ran away from FEDRA and sneaked into a sealed mall. I wouldn’t put it past you.

Maybe he had a point.

“Bye, Ms. Sugar!” a girl called from behind them, dark hair pulled away from her freckled face. “Ellie, you coming?” she waited, expectantly. Ellie turned towards Joel, whose face had shifted into a simil-scowl.

“So that’s what you meant, huh?” he crossed his arms, to which Ellie responded with a lopsided grin, looking at him expectantly, the mute question clear in her eyes. Can I? “Wait, Ms. Sugar?” he turned to look at the woman who still stood there, and she snorted.

“Ask Ellie about it,” she retorted, clearly amused by the guilty look creeping across the girl’s face. “She’ll be right there, Dina!” she called out then, a little louder.

“I didn’t mean to, okay?” Ellie protested, with a small kick to the melting snow in front of her. “You call her that all the time–it just came out of my mouth,” she argued then, pointing at Joel.

“Are you blaming me for calling your teacher with a nickname?” he returned, baffled.

“Yes,” Ellie nodded. Behind Ellie, he saw her stifle a giggle, quick to lower her head and cover her mouth with a hand. The girl looked up at him still, eyes softening in a pleading motion. “Can I go?”

“Sure,” he sighed–the word was barely out of his mouth before Ellie was already darting away, running towards her smiling friend. “I’m sorry,” he said then, turning to her.

“It’s alright, Joel,” clearly amused, she shook her head and took a step closer to him, hands dropped at her sides. “Besides, I think only Dina heard her. Maybe Cat, too, but it’s no big deal,” she shrugged, standing right in front of him now. Joel tightened his grip around Ellie’s bag strap, lowering his gaze to her.

“She good?” he asked, a little quieter. “This Dina, she–”

“Yes, she’s a good kid,” she said with a smile and a small nod, tilting her head slightly. “You can rest easy, Mr. Miller,” at that, Joel snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Mr. Miller,” he mocked, to which her smile widened. “Haven’t been called that since I had to meet with Sarah’s teachers,” as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his expression fell slightly, gaze unfocused. He thought he was about to stop breathing again, when she placed her hand on his upper arm, pressing gently against the jacket sleeve.

“Joel,” with a whisper of his name, he snapped his eyes back up towards her–a worried crease crossed her forehead, knitting her brows closer. “What is it?”

She knew what it was. She’d seen it, in people younger and older than him; she’d felt it on her own skin, clawing at her throat in a desperate attempt to clear her airways. Hers had never been as immobile as Joel’s. She kicked and screamed and cried until she was spent and aching all over.

“Just–” he clicked his tongue and thought of lying.

He still felt unsure, unsteady, both wanting to keep her at arm’s length and welcoming her back in his life like before, drown in the comfort he’d found in her presence year after year since they were kids. She’d tried to reassure him, and he knew she was right–you could not live in the world they did and not change. But he remembered her in pigtails on the first day of school, he remembered her prom dress being awfully 80s, and he remembered the first time he’d seen her with Sarah–gentle voiced and wide eyed, holding her as if she might shatter should she breathe a little too hard.

“It’s like starting all over again with her–not sure if I’m doing right or wrong whenever I make a decision,” he admitted then, voice low–she got closer, gaze softening. He wanted to lean into her all of a sudden, but clenched his fists instead, the strap of Ellie’s bag digging in his palm. “I can’t disappoint her, can’t–I can’t fail her, too.”

“You didn’t fail anyone, Joel,” he almost disagreed, but the look she gave him didn’t leave room for any argument. He snapped his mouth shut. “It’s odd, adjusting to this place–I didn’t sleep properly for a year, flinched at every noise. When Maria asked me if I wanted to teach I thought she’d lost her mind,” she scoffed, shaking her head lightly. “And then I had my first full night of sleep. The kids and parents started waving at me in the streets. I ate food that hadn't expired 10 years ago. It’s–give yourself some time to adjust, Miller. Both of you.”

Joel exhaled, tipping his head slightly back and looking up towards the sky–it was sunny, mercifully, the cold starting to become bearable. He felt her shuffle forward rather than see her, eyelids fluttering when she rested her hand over his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Ellie’s doing good,” she reassured then, smiling when he looked back at her. “She’s–a little wild, maybe, but she feels safe here. With you. She’ll be alright,” head tilted slightly to the side, the scarf wrapped around her neck slipped–he almost reached up to fix it for her. “So will you.”

“You always knew what to say, didn’t you?” he sighed, turning his head a little–he felt her hand move from his shoulder to his upper arm, warmth spreading wherever her touch lingered. He leaned into it.

“Not really, most of the time I winged it,” she shrugged, and his smile returned, although tentative, while shaking his head. “How’d you think I made it through college?”

“Brains, Sugar,” without thinking too much about it, he reached up and pinched her chin, gently tilting her head back a little. “You’ve always had more brains than us combined. I think we both should’ve listened to you more.”

“Took you long enough to admit that,” she grinned, following the curve of his arm down to where his hand still brushed her face. She brushed her fingertips along the back of his hand, lingering at his knuckles. “It hurt to say it out loud, didn’t it?” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“No, actually. I’m quite alright,” her eyebrows arched, wrapping her fingers around his hand for balance before reaching for his forehead with her other one. Joel laughed then, taking one small step back to balance them both, eyes crinkling at the touch. “What are you doing?”

“Checking if you have a fever,” she replied, nonchalantly, shifting her hand over his temple, over his cheek. “God forbid this affects you physically,” she added in a mock whisper, unable to hide the amusement in her words. Still laughing, Joel let go of Ellie’s bag to reach up and grab her other hand.

“Alright, alright,” he pulled his head slightly back, holding their joined hands between them–she’d tipped forward, unbalanced, and he held her upright, looking back down towards her grinning face. “You’ve made your point. Thank you.”

“Good,” she chuckled. They remained like that a moment longer, simply looking at each other, before she cleared her throat and glanced quickly over her shoulder. “I should go. Gotta fix up the classroom or else Hell might just break loose tomorrow.”

“Right,” he let go of her, his palms tingling still. “Well, I–thank you, Sugar. I mean it.”

“I know you do,” expression softened again, she stepped back–they had barely realized how close they were. Joel missed it right away. “I’ll see ya, Miller.”

“Sure,” he murmured in return, one of the hands he’d kept lifted doing a half-wave as she turned around. He kept it up, gaze lingering on her back until she’d vanished back into the building.

“Damn,” he whipped around with his eyes wide, gaze immediately falling to Ellie at his side.

“What are you doing here?” he muttered, a quick look over his shoulder and then past Ellie’s head. “Language,” he added right away, making her snort.

“Didn’t know you could laugh,” she retorted, her eyebrows arched.

“That's bullshit, you’ve heard me before,” he frowned, and Ellie’s grin widened.

“Language,” she mocked him, making Joel scowl. “Sure I did, but it wasn’t like this.”

“Like what?” still frowning, he watched her shrug and point vaguely at him.

“This,” she repeated, then shrugged and grabbed her bag from the ground in front of him. “Anyways, I came back to get this. Bye.”

“Ellie!” he protested, though she was already skipping away. “Like what?”

Winter passed, and the first glimpses of Spring came to Jackson in the shape of flowers and fruit, an unfrozen ground giving them the first rewards. Ellie would spend more days outside with her friends, but every now and then she’d hang back with him, sitting on the porch while he tried to teach her how to play guitar.

“Now try the next one,” he nodded, after a while she’d been repeating the same three notes, a small melody she’d been practicing.

“I can’t do the next one,” she protested, keeping at it. Joel began to argue, but a movement at the corner of his eye made him turn around–with his good ear towards Ellie, he didn’t hear the woman’s steps until she was in his peripheral vision. He followed her with his gaze, head turning as she went–her hands were occupied by a large box, and when she noticed them she just smiled, but didn’t stop. “No, Ellie, don’t say that. You’re doing great. You can do it.”

“What?” he cleared his throat, snapping his head back around towards the kid. She was scowling, arms crossed over the guitar as he stared at him. “You are doing good. Go to the next one,” at that she rolled her eyes, lips parting with a scoff. “What?” he repeated.

“Will you quit being a stubborn ass?” Ellie groaned, lowering the guitar and leaning back into the seat. Joel’s eyebrows arched high, disbelief painted across his face.

“Watch your mouth, kid,” she scoffed again, tapping across the wood.

“Yeah, yeah,” she practically brushed him off. “But will you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joel mimicked her, leaning back against the backrest and crossing his arms, his head twisting ever so slightly towards where he was looking before, towards her. A groan escaped her.

“Oh, please, you know perfectly well,” Joel frowned now, watching as Ellie pointed her finger in the woman’s direction–she was too far to see them, or hear them, but still Joel tapped against her extended hand. “You like her,” the girl said, bringing her hand back towards her chest. It was Joel’s turn to scoff.

“Yeah, I like her–we’ve been friends since we were kids,” he shrugged, then folded his arms across his chest once more. Ellie rolled her eyes again.

“No, I mean you like like her. Like you’re in love with her,” Joel snorted, shaking his head.

“What would you know about that?” despite the levity in Ellie’s tone, her face darkened for a moment–it had been a while since he’d seen that look in her eyes, and a pang of guilt shot through him right away. He shifted in his seat.

“I have eyes,” Ellie muttered, placing the guitar down to curl up in the chair, legs up to her chest and arms crossed. “Pretty sure the whole of Jackson knows. It’s obvious.”

“Ellie, we’ve known each other ages,” Joel sighed, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “If I had a problem I’d go to her, and if she had a problem she’d come to me. We’ve been there for each other during–” he cleared his throat, lowering his gaze, “most of the worst times of our lives.”

“And you’ve never–” she trailed off.

“No,” he shook his head with a light smile.

“Not even once?” again he shook his head. “Seriously?”

“Tommy had a crush on her,” he shrugged, and she straightened her back.

“So you thought about it, then,” she exclaimed. Joel dropped his head slightly with a sigh.

“I was a teenager once, you know,” she arched her brows. “She was nice, and she was my friend, and she was real pretty–but there are things that are more important than a crush.”

Ellie was quiet for a moment, leaning back down, her fingers tapping up and down her shins as she lowered her gaze, eyebrows pinched together.

“Did–did Sarah like her?” it had started to be easier, talking about her. While Joel still felt the hurt of her absence, the anger and disbelief of his grief had turned into quiet acceptance. Ellie would rarely ask questions about her, but he found it helped.

“She loved her,” he nodded, easing back into the chair. “There weren’t a lot of women in Sarah’s life, but she was there, especially when she needed it the most. And she did love Sarah back–so much,” a fond smile caught on his mouth.

“Yeah, I figured,” Ellie mumbled, tilting her head a little. “It’s her, isn’t it? In the picture with the cracked frame at her place.”

Joel had tried to not linger too much on that picture–Sarah was young in it, 3 or 4 maybe, a full head of curls sticking out on every side. He remembered fighting each day to try and fix it, and her laughing at his feeble attempts. She taught him first–simple hairstyles he could do in the mornings before dropping her off to school and that would survive the day ahead–and then Sarah herself for when she did not want to leave it as it was.

She’d been there for him and Sarah all the time, and he wasn't sure he’d thanked her nearly enough for it. When her mom left, when she started teething, walking, talking, on her first day of school, and every year after that, leaving campus to be at each game, each recital. Clothes, music, movies, all of it–she was always there.

“Yes,” he nodded, slowly. Ellie hummed.

“You should fix that for her,” she said then, standing almost abruptly. “Might be nice. It might also give you an excuse,” she added with a shrug.

“I don’t need an excuse, Ellie,” he sighed, picking the guitar from her. The girl shrugged again, then headed inside. “You’re going somewhere?”

“Cat’s!” she called from inside. Joel strummed a few slow notes, waiting for her to come back out–she did so rushing, jacket half-thrown on. “I still think I’m right. Bye!”

She glanced up from her handiwork when a step echoed a little louder over the gravel, her face immediately splitting in a wide smile and Joel’s half-still stance in the low streetlight.

“Knitting on the porch? That’s new,” he grinned, resuming walking towards her.

“If my mother could see me now, right?” she retorted with a chuckle he matched with a smile of his own, leaving the half-finished sweater aside to stand up. “Hi,” she said then, moving forward to the steps he was climbing.

“Hi,” he returned, stopping one step down so they were at the same level. He brought his hands forward from behind his back, the previously cracked frame and picture within, his gaze lingering on Sarah’s smile a moment longer. “Fixed it for ya.”

“Oh,” she looked over her shoulder, towards the slightly ajar door as if to look at the spot it had been resting. “You didn’t–thank you,” she said, carefully picking it from him.

“Sure,” he shrugged lightly, burying his now empty hands in his pockets. “Thought I’d just stop by,” he added, shuffling slightly. Her smile widened.

“You know you don’t need an excuse to just stop by, right?” she turned around, gesturing at him to follow as she headed inside, lingering at the entrance to place the picture right back where it belonged.

“I know,” he mumbled, lingering at the threshold. One of his guitars was in the living room, resting against the armchair Ellie had curled up in and ended up falling asleep on during the first time they’d gone over. The last time, he’d forgotten the instrument, after Tommy had insisted vehemently he should’ve brought it with him.

“I meant to bring that over,” she said, catching him looking at it. “I saw you teaching Ellie,” she added, pinching one string as she passed by it before heading to the kitchen.

“Yeah, tryin’ to,” Joel followed, fingertips tingling stuffed in his pockets. “She’s good.”

“Better than I was?” she returned with two glasses filled with amber liquid and a grin on her face. “Sweet tea–I got some of the first lemons.”

“Baking, making sweet tea, knitting,” he picked the cool glass from her with a grateful look–the simple act of holding it gave him back another piece of home he thought was gone forever. It had happened quite a few times since they’d found each other again. “You’re turning into your mother, Sugar.”

The woman snorted, rolling her eyes as she stepped away, and Joel was quick to hide his smirk behind the rim of the glass.

“I’ll pretend that was a compliment, Miller,” she squinted in his direction, mock-menacingly.

“C’mon, you know I loved your mother,” he argued before taking a sip–he hummed softly, eyes shutting on instinct. If he focused, he could hear the fire crackling and water bubbling over the stove as her mother made it, could taste the sugar and lemon or peaches she’d slip them in the meantime. He sighed. “I’ll tell you what–your talents clearly reside in this, not that,” he added, pointing towards the guitar. She laughed again.

“Well, I’d rather listen to the music than play it,” she declared, her chin tilted upwards, a grin mimicking his own. Then her eyes widened, a shimmer in them as she jolted on the spot, quickly resting the glass down on the table. “I’ve gotta show you something!”

A small frown knitted his brow as he licked the sweetness from his mouth and followed her with his gaze, hurried steps towards the bedroom that echoed in the quiet of the home. She was gone a few minutes, returning after a moment of rattling, a wide smile spread across her face. Joel’s eyes fell to the object in her hands–a portable CD player, not so different from the one she’d gifted Sarah in the 90s but they always ended up stealing once she was asleep.

“Audio is not the best, to be fair, but after so many years without music–” she stopped in front of him, offering one of the earphones to him while she put the other one in.

Still frowning lightly, Joel shuffled closer, the short cord forcing him forward. The drum arrived first, the sound slightly scratched, and with her smile widening she looked up at him. Like the beat beat beat of the tom-tom, he chuckled as she freed his hands, rocking from one side to the other following the rhythm.

“Where’d you get this?” he stumbled forward when she took one of his hands, tugging him closer–the other fell to her side to second her swinging–he couldn’t help returning her infectious smile as she shrugged lightly, her free hand reaching on his shoulder.

“Luck–I found it before getting here along with a couple of CDs,” she looked up at him, head slightly tilted. “This one reminded me of you,” she added, voice softer–for a moment, her smile faltered.

She’d never thought she’d see him again, keeping the record out of pure nostalgia for someone she hadn’t seen in years. Someone she always feared was gone. They’d listened to Ella Fitzgerald constantly during their teenage years, Joel sneaking some of his parents’ records to her house, or locking themselves into listening booths for hours until they were kicked out. Dancing as they were in that moment.

“Only you beneath the moon and under the sun,” she hummed, their movements slowing with the song. “Whether near to me or fat, it’s no matter darling where you are–”

“I think of you night and day, day and night, why is it so?” he joined in, voice low, head bending slightly towards her–her smile returned, a shimmer in her eyes.

“Your voice’s changed,” she murmured, taking half a step closer. “S’warmer. I like it.”

“Thought you always liked my voice,” he smiled, tucking his chin to look down at her. She nodded with a low chuckle, locking their already joined hands together by intertwining their fingers.

“’Course I did,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes mockingly. She gave a squeeze to his hand then, lowering her head slightly. “I missed it–this,” she inhaled sharply then, a shallow sound that temporarily overwhelmed the music. “You,” she added, almost in a whisper that would’ve been lost to him had he not been looking at her mouth.

Joel’s heart stuttered, a soft sigh at her admission as his eyes fluttered shut, just a moment. Tongue-tied, he shifted closer, as close as he could get, the hand on her waist moving to the small of her back, wrapping his arm around her. He didn’t know how to tell her, how to let his mouth form the words that clouded his head–that had been since he’d seen her again. He couldn’t say it, not for lack of trying.

“Sugar,” he whispered, and she nodded, leaning forward and cutting him off.

The song went on, and she rested her head on his chest–the hand on his shoulder was soft, arm almost draped across it as she toyed absentmindedly with the collar of his shirt, brushing the nape of his neck every now and then. Their joined ones fell to his chest, arms bent, the warmth of her exhales brushing across their knuckles. He bent his head slightly, cheek barely brushing the top of her head, and he tightened his arm around her waist to keep her close–each song closer, until the music stopped.

They stayed like that a moment longer, even in silence, his heart beating the only sound she could hear, silence on his end with his good ear plugged by the earphone. She rubbed her thumb against the side of his hand, small movements that made his eyelids droop. He caught a glimpse of the top of her head like that, the curve of her nose, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks and the small pout on her relaxed mouth, all half-hidden against him. She looked–

“Ah, fuck’s sake,” he muttered to himself, and she blinked rapidly before looking up, wide-eyed. She tilted her head, gently pulling his earphone off.

“What is it?” she cleared her throat, taking a small step back. The hold on his hand began loosening, so he forced himself to ease his arm around her waist, too, shaking his head.

“Nothin’, just–something Ellie said, it’s not important,” he let go of her when her brows knit, a hint of perplexity in her gaze. “I should go, actually. Check she’s actually gone to sleep.”

“Of course,” she returned quickly, stepping even further back, hands falling to her sides and rubbing down slowly, palms dragging along the seams of her jeans. “Thank you. For the frame–and passing by.”

His right hand twitched slightly at his side, and he took a small step back, nodding at her words. He stopped then, moving forward once more–he pushed past the knot in his throat and the tingling in his limbs and his heart dropping, and reached for her face. She leaned into his touch, his hands cupping over her cheeks as he shifted closer once more, brushing a delicate kiss to her forehead, her lips curled into the beginning of a smile. He held her gently, the touch of his lips lingering a moment longer over her skin before he moved away.

“See ya, Sugar.”

Summer was relentless. With days spent seeking shadows and some reprieve from the heat, the nights were unbearable in their stillness. Joel couldn’t sleep–after 20 years in Boston, he wasn’t used to the Southern heat anymore.

And he would be lying to himself if he thought that was the only reason why.

 He kept replaying the conversation with Tommy in his head, over and over. He was haunted by it, sitting on the porch in the quiet of Jackson’s night.

“Ellie’s right, it is getting painful to watch.”

“The hell are you talking with Ellie about?”

“You and Sugar. It’s worse than when we were young, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Means this time I can’t pretend to ask her out so that you finally get your head out of your ass and admit you like her. You gotta wake up, Joel.”

He was awake. Truth was, Joel had felt like he had been living in a nightmare for the past 20 years–and now he was awake and didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know how to be himself anymore. Or how to be a person.

Perhaps that was why he was knocking on her door while everyone else was asleep. Perhaps he was just too much in his head about it. Perhaps–

“Joel?” his eyes fell down across her, flimsy night clothes clinging to her for a split second before he forced his gaze up, breath stuttering slightly. “It’s the middle of the night, what happened?”

“Sorry–shit,” he looked away, past his shoulder, back at her–was his heart beating faster? Were his hands shaking? He felt like it. “You’re right. Sorry, I’ll just–it can wait,” he stepped back, shaking his head.

“It clearly can’t, since you knocked at my door like a maniac,” she said it with a little grin, and some tension left his shoulders at the sight of it, of her stepping back and opening the door further for him. “C’mon, get inside.”

Joel walked past her and his steps faltered, tilting his head in her direction with a sharp inhale before moving along, fists opening and closing down his sides. He’d gotten better at that–not letting it all overwhelm him. Understand when the world might begin tipping under his feet and stabilize himself. He was trying–for Ellie, for his brother, for her, he was really trying.

“What happened?” she asked softly. They stood in the living room as they had before, as they had when they’d danced, except they were each on one end of the couch, a gaping emptiness between the two of them. “Should I start to get worried? You look like–”

“I like you,” he blurted out, recoiling at the shift in his own voice–so much louder than her careful tone. She blinked rapidly, head slightly tilted.

“I should hope so,” she scoffed, the reassuring smile she had before turning into a downright amused one. But Joel was shaking his head already, hands still restless. “Joel–”

“No, I mean–I like like you,” she blinked again, lips parting slightly and making her smile begin to dwindle. “Like I think I might be in love with you,” he closed his eyes, inhaling sharply–of course Ellie’s voice would echo in his head right then. Making an absolute fool out of him. “And I think I’ve always been and just didn’t know, or maybe I did know and I just didn’t want to fuck up this too, because I always fucked up everything, every relationship I ever had but ours, and the thought of losing you was terrifying–is terrifying,” he gasped a little between words, each one falling out of his mouth and out of his control. “Or maybe I wasn’t, you know? Maybe–maybe I just–”

“Joey,” she called him softly–so soft he almost didn’t hear her, and reacted first to her hand resting over his chest. His eyes flew open, gaze unfocused for a moment running across her face before they locked with hers, familiar and gentle. She pressed her palm against his chest, and he knew for sure his heart was stuttering underneath her touch. “Take a breath.”

He gasped again, shoulders dropping forward as if wrapping himself around her hand with a long exhale. Blindly, he reached for her, fingers wrapping around her wrist.

“Another,” she instructed, taking his other hand gingerly, and he did. Inhale, exhale, stumbling forward. “It’s just me, Joey.”

“You’re the only one who’s ever called me that, y’know?” he whispered, breathlessly. She gave him a little smile, tapping two fingers on his chest. Slowly, his heartbeat matched her rhythm, and he squeezed her wrist once, gently.

“Wanna try that again?” she murmured, tilting her head a little to the side.

“You can kick me out,” he retorted in a mumble, and she sighed. She shifted the hand she was holding, thumb pressing into his wrist, right above his pulse, right above the strap of his watch, while the rest of her fingers spread across the back of his hand.

“And why would I do that?” Joel met her gaze again–awaiting, reassuring, familiar gaze.

“You’ve known me all our lives, Sugar,” she nodded at his heavy sigh. “You’ve seen me fuck everything up, multiple times–Christ, you’ve seen me fuck things up with Sarah’s mother, too,” again she nodded, and he lowered his voice, breath stuttering. “Yet you were always there for me.”

“Of course I was,” with the last nod, she smiled–it was bittersweet, made his heart ache.

“I loved you for that. More than I knew could be possible,” he bowed his head, the tip of his nose brushing hers tentatively. “And I love–I love–I love you still.”

Her exhale was long, fingers curling over his chest and twisting in the fabric of his shirt–he stumbled forward ever so slightly, the hand he had around her wrist falling against her side balancing himself as she brought her lips close to his. Close, without touching, his breath stuttering when her exhale hit his skin.

“You’ve been the best half of my life, Joel,” there was a scratch in her voice that wasn’t there before, words trembling ever so slightly. “You–I’ve always known I loved you. I knew I loved you, I just–I don’t think I ever realized how much until I lost you. Or found you again.”

“Sugar–” she shook her head, humming.

“Not done,” she chided, and he snapped his mouth shut, almost chuckling. “You were my best friend. I’d like to think you still are, even after these awful fucking years because I–I’ve always needed you, Joel,” the hand on his chest shifted upwards slightly, resting at his collarbones. “And I still do. I need you in my life–I need you.”

“You do have me, sweetheart,” he said, hurriedly, pulling back ever so slightly. Her eyes were shimmering, and he wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her close–her hand slid to the side of his neck, lips quivering slightly. He was looking at her lips. “However you want me, you have me.”

“I do love you, even now,” her thumb traced figures eight over his neck with one hand, small circles on his wrist with the other. Soothing. Gentle. Calming. “Whoever it is you think you’ve become now–I love you. I need you to understand that.”

Joel’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened. Closed again, a thin line cutting through his face. She was looking at him as if she could see right through him, pick up the pieces of his hesitation during the months just gone by, and the years before that. Reading him as she’d always done, and speaking directly to his foolish heart, reassuring him–you’ll get through the year, you’ll get through the grief, you’ll be alright, Sarah’ll be alright, we’ll be alright, I love you, I love you, I love you.

“I know,” he hummed, tightening his hold around her. Her body softened into his with a long exhale, the hand rising to his jaw, scratching along his patchy beard. “I’m trying, sweetheart.”

“I know you are,” she cupped his cheek, and in spite of the heat he didn’t mind the warmth radiating from her palm. His eyes fluttered shut. “C’mere.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, his head falling forward against the curve of her neck. He leaned fully into the circle of her arms, reaching out with his other free hand too to keep her close, her back slightly arched towards him, locked together like pieces of a puzzle. Freshly cut grass welcoming him home, he dug his fingertips into her sides and brushed his mouth to her neck–a half kiss, hesitant and tentative. If he got a full taste, he knew he’d want nothing else for as long as he lived.

That was a lie. He already didn’t, couldn’t fathom it.

Slowly, she tipped her head to the side, granting him more space–he could feel her heartbeat quickening under his parted lips, a hiccup in her breath as she dragged her hands up the nape of his neck, fingertips slowly brushing through the locks at the back of his head, guiding him forward and up. He let her guide him, gave her full control as the tip of his nose traced a path up her jaw, cheek, his lips following.

“Are you teasin’, Sugar?” he whispered, rubbing their noses together, and felt her smile rather than saw it. She shook her head, pressing herself impossibly closer as she scratched his scalp gently. “Then I’m gonna need you to tell me what to do next.”

When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him already, so close she was slightly cross-eyed, long lashes kissing the arch of her brows. His own heart beat a little quicker, a little louder, anticipation building in his limbs as he could feel himself burn from within.

“Kiss me,” just a whisper.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

His heart would never be whole again, that much he knew–a part of it had stayed behind, pierced by a bullet, a 20 years old wound. But he could live again, day by day. He could find his way back to life, with his Ellie on one side and–

Joel caught her lips with his own, and it felt like homecoming. Sweet as sugar, he kissed her slow, without rush, as if trying to make up for each year spent apart, and for each year spent together in the wrong way. He held her as if she might shatter and like he would never let her go both, drank greedily each sigh, each whisper, never once parting until his lungs burned, and then kissing her gasps away, too.