#seriously i've spent many nights thinking about them

[marihem]

All I know is I just want to spend the majority of my life with you

The actual very first doodle where I finally put my QPR Frans idea on canvas. Man I really love thinking about queer relationships

Please feel free to ask me anything about their relationship too

[predestinatos]

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Part 5

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Implied physical abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Chapter 4 -- Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

You're in the hallway when you hear Clay say his goodbyes to Jake with a promise to visit. It's now just the two of you, the part of the night you've been dreading. You step out to where Jake can see you, keeping your head down.

Jake takes several tries to start talking. Seeing you like this, he gets what Clay saw. It's a splash of cold water on the rage he had initially felt during your "wedding". Where he thought he had seen disappointment and coldness he now sees timidity and fear. Jake has been perceived as many things, annoying, intelligent, dorky, but never scary. He definitely doesn't like that you're scared of him.

"I, uh, I guess we should choose our rooms?" he finally says, making your brows knit in confusion. "I...I know we're..." he gestures at the two of you. "But you...I...we don't have to do anything you don't want." Your eyes widen in surprise and he's quick to add, "it's not because I don't want to, you're beautiful, and I'm sure you're great in bed, and I shouldn't have said that, and I'm sorry, but I'm just so nervous, but I think we'd both sleep better in separate rooms? If that's what you want? Or we can share a bed, if you want, I promise no touching that you don't explicit consent to, and I'm going to stop talking before I make myself look even more awkward than I feel."

He's rubbing the back of his head, cheeks pink, eyes down, clearly uncomfortable. He almost looks more like a teenage boy trying to ask out a pretty girl as opposed to the angry, hateful monster you were certain you'd married. You want to chuckle but the suddenness of the transformation leaves you even more on edge. Is his offer of separate rooms genuine or a trick? You want, so desperately to believe him, but can you?

Remembering the layout of the penthouse, however, gives you an out. "There's only one bed," you inform him. "The other rooms have couches or chairs, but no beds."

"Seriously?" Jake asks. "Why would they do that?"

"My...my guess is that they want to...ensure...that, that we..." you imitate his earlier gesture indicating the both of you and his eyes widen in realization.

"Well, damn," he mumbles. "I'll go ahead and sleep on the couch then, okay?"

"Are you sure? They look like they're meant for looks more than comfort."

Jake gives a soft huff, "I spent enough time in the military that I can sleep anywhere, I promise."

"You're in the military?"

"Formerly," Jake replies. "It's how I met Clay. And it's a very long story that can wait for some other time."

"It's impressive," you admit. Most of the men in your life were the type to act tough but would never actually go through with something as harsh as military training.

Jake blushes again, "well, it's no Masters Degree in ecology. That's a lot of hitting the books! Never was my forte, preferred hands on learning, which is why I never did well at school and I'm rambling again. Sorry about that."

You feel the heat rush to your face. No one's ever acknowledged your degree outside of claiming it was a waste of time and money. You really hope his compliments are sincere, but are still careful to not take them fully to heart. It could easily be another manipulation tactic.

"Thank you," you tell him. "I'll be happy to split the bedding and make sure the guest bathroom has toiletries."

"You don't need to do that," he shakes his head. "I've made do with a lot less and, most importantly, you're not the maid. You don't have to take care of me like that." You open your mouth but kind find the words to respond. He continues, "oh, did you want me to cook breakfast in the morning? I doubt it'll be as good as you cook, that pasta was awesome, but I can do some cooking and you shouldn't have to cook everything, especially not for someone who can cook for themselves, but I also don't want to intrude because you know where everything is and if you prefer to have the kitchen to yourself I completely understand, I just wanna help you out because we're in this together and..." Jake's face scrunches up in a wince, "and I'm rambling again. I'm so sorry."

"Whoever wakes up first makes breakfast?" you propose.

"I like it," he nods.

You go to get some blankets and pillows for him and he waits outside the door to the bedroom. When you give him a quizzical look he replies, "it's your room. I'm not entering without permission." Giving him a contemplative nod, you thank him before handing him everything.

"Goodnight," he tells you. "I hope you sleep well."

"You too," you tell him as diplomatically as you can.

He heads to one of the other rooms and you close the door to the master bedroom suite, your bedroom. As tiring as the day has been, you're not sure you're getting sleep any time soon. Your husband has given you much to think about.

Chapter 4 -- Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn;

@icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[silent-stories]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟐

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie finally works up the courage to talk to you again and he's not disappointed.

Part 1

"I'm sorry, I won't." You repeated for about the hundredth time as you placed some brushes in a jar and then on a shelf.

The lesson had been over for a few minutes and your classmates were getting ready to finally leave.

Aaron rolled his eyes as he washed his hands at the sink located in the corner of the art classroom, watching the water wash the red paint off his hands, coloring the liquid as it descended.

It almost looked like blood.

"Your parents won't be home for two days. Two fucking days, Y/N. And you don't want to have a party?" He turned to you with his usual smile he used when trying to get someone to do what he wanted.

It was not going to work with you.

"Well, I'm sorry. I'm not really one for parties." You shrugged.

Aaron had spent all of class trying to get you to throw a party on Saturday night since your parents were away for the weekend, your house was big, and you had a pool.

Aaron insisted. "But it will be fun. We can invite your friends, Jason and his team and-"

"Aaron, c'mon. Even if I had this stupid party, I wouldn't invite those people."

They were the last people you wanted to see at school, let alone invite them to a party.

"What's wrong with Jason? He's been one of the first people I've talked to since I moved here, besides you, and he's a really cool guy."

You liked Aaron, you had met him a week ago when he asked if you knew where the art class was and you had accompanied him, saying you were going there too, but sometimes he would say things that would skyrocket your want to slap him.

Over the next few days you'd gotten closer and closer and you'd noticed how most of the girls – and even some of the boys – watched Aaron at school.

He was new and that equaled interesting, he was blond and green-eyed, which for many cheerleaders equaled cute.

You also suspected that many of them were jealous that he was spending so much time with you instead of them.

Anyway, you didn't like him that way, of course you had to admit that he respected the canons of beauty to which people paid attention, but there were things more important than how symmetrical someone's face was.

"Cool? Do you want me to make you a list of all the reasons why I don't like that asshoke? He's selfish, obnoxious, vain, a bully....should I go on?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Nah, I'd like to listen to all your reasons but I have to go, honey. I'm going out with Jason and his friends later." He said running his fingers through his blond curls.

You raised your eyebrows, still hoping you misunderstood what he said.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I told you, they're cool guys."

"Like a stick up your ass."

Aaron burst out laughing. "Y/N, c'mon!"

"What? It's true!"

Aaron shook his head before grabbing his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, okay?"

He smiled at you as he usually did, showing his perfect white teeth and rested a hand on your arm for a few seconds.

His smile was sometimes frighteningly reminiscent of Billy Hargrove's.

One thing you couldn't stand was the way he was always touching you. One arm around your shoulders, one hand on yours or your arm.

It always seemed like something too intimate, like the way he called you "honey" all the time, but you thought maybe it was your problem.

"Yeah, bye." You placed the last rags covered in color stains in their appropriate drawer.

"And think about the party!" He yelled before walking out the door, leaving you alone in the classroom.

"I won't!"

Eddie lingered in front of art class, watching some students leave after the last bell of the day rang and wondering why he suddenly had no idea how to start a conversation.

The last one to leave the class was the boy he had seen you with the day before, the one Dustin said was Aaron and that he wasn't your boyfriend.

As he walked out of the classroom, his gaze briefly met Eddie's, who was leaning back against the wall thinking about what he could do or what he could talk about with you.

And that look, it was definitely not the look of the nice guy next door who brings you cake as soon as he moves next to your house and offers to mow your lawn.

It was Jason's same look, it was the look of everyone who looked at Eddie as if he were trash.

It was the look of everyone who was sure Eddie was the leader of a satanic cult that no one would want anything to do with.

It was the same look as everyone who referred to him as a "freak."

Just the thought of you spending your time with that guy made Eddie think he had no chance with you and that he'd better go home and try to get over you. As if it was possible.

Suddenly, Eddie found himself alone in the hallway and for a moment he thought that you too had left the classroom and that he, too immersed in his thoughts, hadn't even noticed.

But no, it wasn't possible, he always noticed you.

He reached the threshold of the door and finally saw you, intent on moving a canvas in the corner of the room, on your hands there were still some traces of color that not even the water had managed to sweep away.

"Need a hand?" Eddie asked, surprising even himself.

You whirled on him, probably startled by the sudden voice but when you saw him, you smiled and Eddie almost forgot how to breathe.

"No, it's okay. I'm done. What are you doing here?" You asked as you grabbed a book off a table and stuffed it into your bag, before slinging it over your shoulder and walking towards him.

What was he doing there?

He wanted to see you, he wanted to hear the sound of your laugh and talk to you about any topic that crossed your mind because he was undoubtedly in love with you but too cowardly to tell you.

"Henderson told me you were here and I thought I'd come by and say hi."

He hoped it didn't sound stupid.

"Well, hi." You laughed as you walked out of the classroom, closing the door behind you.

Eddie watched you take a few steps ahead of you in the hallway before you turned to him.

"Are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, sure." He hastened to catch up with you.

"Today I'm walking home. This morning I woke up earlier than usual and it was sunny so I didn't use my car. Would you like to... walk me home?"

Eddie glanced at you to meet your sincere, hopeful expression.

"I don't live very far from here, don't worry." You added.

"Yeah, yes. Of course." He answered quickly, already kicking himself for letting you think that he didn’t want to go with you. He would have wanted even if you lived on the other side of the world.

You felt good spending time with Eddie.

You didn't quite know what it was but you felt the same sensation you felt when you sat in front of a fireplace in winter with a blanket on your legs and a book in your hands.

It was a feeling of calm and tranquility. You felt like you were really being listened to when you talked about the things you liked, that you weren't judged and you simply felt safe when you were with him.

It wasn't the same feeling you had when you were with Aaron. It was not even close.

Before you rounded the corner in the hallway, Eddie heard voices talking to each other.

"Wait, um-" Eddie didn't know how to say it. "There's  someone. It's okay if you don't want to be seen with me."

It was like a reflex, a habit. No one wanted to be seen with him other than the Hellfire kids and his friends in his band.

His words hit you like a knife and your heart started bleeding for that sweet boy you barely knew.

All those years he'd spent being treated like he didn't deserve to, like no one would ever deserve, like a freak, had made him think that no one would want to be seen even to talk to him.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair for all of Hawkings to judge a person they didn't even know for who he really were.

"It's okay, Eddie." You you reassured him as you rounded the corner, finding two cheerleaders talking to each other.

And Eddie, hearing your simple words, for a moment really thought that everything was okay. That there was no social barrier to divide you, that you were really friends and that he had the possibility to become something more for you one day.

He also liked the way his name sounded when you said it.

As you walked down the hallway, Eddie suddenly felt your fingers brush his and when he realized it wasn't by mistake, your hand had already met his and you intertwined your fingers with his.

Strangely, Eddie didn't catch his breath or start sweating like he did whenever you were even near him.

He wasn't even nervous anymore. But he smiled.

He felt as if someone had lifted a weight off his chest and now he could breathe easier, as if with your hand in his everything could really be fine.

When you passed the cheerleaders your hand was still holding his, stready, secure, not letting go.

When you got out of school you kept talking all the way home and every time Eddie heard the sound of your laugh he wished he could record it so he could listen to it whenever he wanted as if it was his favorite song.

You only let go of his hand when you arrived in front of your house.

"And then I told my uncle that I'd found a job, but I actually sat on the sidewalk every day downtown and played my guitar with a hat on the ground hoping someone would leave me a dollar." Eddie finished, noting that he was talking to you about personal facts that few other people knew about.

"If I had known, I would have come and left you a few bucks, you know." You commented.

"I was twelve, Y/N. So you were ten. I don't think you had much money to waste at that time." He laughed.

"When I was a kid I had ice cream almost every day. I could have given you my ice cream money."

Eddie smiled. "Would you have given up your daily ice cream for me?"

"For you, that and more" You chuckled as you opened the gate to your house. "Thanks for walking me home." You added.

"Anytime, I like hanging out with you." Eddie still didn't understand where he had found all that courage.

One corner of your mouth curled up. "I like it too."

"See you at school, then?" He asked.

"See you at school, Eddie." You repead before disappearing behind the door of your house.

He stood there for a few more moments, even getting a glare from your neighbor watering the flowers in her garden.

When he said 1986 was going to be his year, maybe he'd been right.

Part 3

I thought I'd write a part 2 and stop but... I kinda like this. Maybe a little series will come out of this?

Who asked to be tagged in the second part will also be tagged in all the other parts so if you want to be removed, let me know <3

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

Love you from afar tags: @capitanostella @enam3l @saramelaniemoon @ang3lb44by @einkitty @themorriganisamonster @esme-viridian @daisyridleyyyy @whenshelanded @eggo-segual @comfortcharactercraze @callmeyn @expiredcum21 @unholyyylita @squidscottjeans @twilight-love-nochu-main @idkatee

[todorokis-girl]

Honestly, I didn't even think about that - Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader

Summary: Kuroo decides to confess to his best friend's sister after years of keeping his emotions in.

masterlist

It was a typical Friday evening, and Kenma was in the middle of one of his popular live streams. His fans were used to the casual, laid-back atmosphere of his streams, where he played games, chatted about his day, and occasionally had his friends drop by.

Tonight, Kuroo was lounging on the couch behind Kenma, casually watching him play the latest game. Y/N, Kenma's sister, was there too, sitting next to Kuroo, quietly playing her own game on her Switch. The three of them often spent time together like this, comfortable in each other's company. Y/N had always been close with her brother and his friends, particularly Kuroo, with whom she had shared many late-night talks and heartfelt moments over the years.

To be honest, they were closer than close, they spent a lot of time together; often after work, both her and Kuroo would come over to hang out with Kenma during his streams.

As Kenma's stream went on, the chat buzzed with excitement, fans commenting on the game and sharing their usual banter. Suddenly, Kuroo's voice broke through the ambient sounds of the game and Kenma's occasional commentary.

"Hey, Kenma, pause the game for a second," Kuroo said, his tone unusually serious.

Kenma glanced back, slightly puzzled but complied, pausing the game and turning to face Kuroo. The chat quickly picked up on the change in mood, filling with question marks and curious comments.

Kuroo stood up, moving to stand in front of Y/N. She looked up from her game, confusion flickering in her eyes. Without warning, Kuroo bent down and pressed his lips to hers in a quick, yet tender kiss. The room seemed to freeze in that moment, the only sound being the rapid typing from the stream chat as viewers reacted in shock and excitement.

When Kuroo pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were filled with determination. "I've had a crush on you since high school," he confessed, his voice steady. "I can't keep running and hiding anymore. I needed to hear you reject me so I could finally move on."

Y/N was stunned, her eyes wide with surprise. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself at a loss for words. The chat exploded with messages, fans going wild over the unexpected confession.

Kuroo continued, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Every time I saw you, it got harder to pretend I didn't feel anything. I thought if I could just hear you say you didn't feel the same, I could get over it. But… I can't keep it inside anymore."

The room was silent, save for the soft hum of the computer and the distant noise of the stream. Slowly, a gentle smile spread across Y/N's face. "Kuroo… I've always had a crush on you too," she admitted, her voice soft but clear. "I just thought you saw me as a sister."

Kuroo's eyes widened, a mixture of relief and joy washing over his features. "You mean it?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

She nodded, her smile growing. "Yeah, I do. I just never imagined you'd feel the same way."

Kenma, who had been silently watching the scene unfold, finally spoke up, his voice breaking the spell of the moment. "You know you're both still on stream, right?"

Kuroo and Y/N turned to look at him, their faces turning a deeper shade of red as they realized the entire confession had been broadcast live. The chat was going wild, viewers reacting to the unexpected romance with a flurry of emojis and excited messages.

Kuroo let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I guess there's no hiding it now," he said, glancing back at Y/N. "But… I'm glad. I'm really glad."

Y/N laughed too, reaching out to take Kuroo's hand. "Me too," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Kenma sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "I guess my stream just got a lot more interesting," he muttered, unpausing the game. "But seriously, you two… maybe save the dramatic confessions for off-camera next time."

Kuroo chuckled, turning back to Kenma. "Sorry about that, Kenma. But I think we both needed this."

Kenma nodded, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Honestly, I'm just relieved I don't have to keep your secret anymore. It was getting exhausting."

Kuroo and Y/N exchanged surprised glances before turning back to Kenma. "Wait, you knew?" Kuroo asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

Kenma smirked, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Of course I knew. You both did tell me separately, did you?"

Y/N blinked, processing the revelation. "And you didn't say anything? At least hint at it? I've been sulking over this for years" she asked, her voice a mix of incredulity and curiosity.

Kenma shrugged. "It wasn't my place to say anything. I figured you'd both figure it out eventually."

"Be ready for this to be all over the internet"

Kuroo and Y/N both just smiled at each other, their hands still clasped together. As Kenma returned to his game, the atmosphere in the room shifted, filled with a new sense of warmth and possibility. The stream chat continued to buzz with excitement, fans eagerly discussing the unexpected turn of events.

And as the night went on, Kuroo and Y/N sat close together, their hearts lighter and their futures a little brighter, no longer burdened by unspoken feelings and hidden desires.

[whereforarthur]

Brother’s Flatmate

Request: anything that starts angsty but ends fluffy PLS

Pairing: Arthur Hill x George’sSister!Reader

Category: Angst to Fluff

Word Count: 4.3k

*****

"Real love doesn't meet you at your best. It meets you in your mess." – J.S. Park

In the bustling heart of London, where the Thames River curved its ancient path, there was a man named Arthur Hill. He was known to many as a charismatic YouTuber with a velvety singing voice, yet to his closest friend George, he was simply Arthur, the bloke who was always there for a pint and a laugh. Arthur's flat, a cozy sanctuary tucked above a quaint bookstore, reflected his unassuming nature—a blend of vintage furniture and the faint scent of dusty pages that spoke of quiet nights spent reading and recording his latest vlogs.

The flat was often filled with the sound of George's raucous laughter as the two friends bantered over cups of tea. However, the dynamic changed whenever George's sister, Y/N, was around. She was a sharp contrast to Arthur's laid-back demeanor—ambitious, driven, and often blunt to the point of discomfort. Her visits were met with a tension so palpable it could be sliced with a knife.

Today was no exception. The moment she barged in, Arthur felt the atmosphere shift. He set aside his camera, knowing that the evening's vlog would have to wait. Y/N's eyes narrowed as she assessed the cluttered room, a clear judgment of his lifestyle.

"It's not just a bit of mess," she retorted, her voice laced with frustration. "It's a health hazard. And it's not like you don't know how to clean up after yourself, Arthur."

The unspoken hostility between them was a constant thorn in George's side. He had no idea what had caused the rift, only that it had grown wider with each passing year. Arthur and Y/N had never seen eye to eye, and it was clear that their dislike for each other was deeply rooted.

"Look, I've had a long day," Arthur said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Could we not do this now?"

Y/N scoffed. "I'm just saying, if you want to be taken seriously as an influencer, you should start by taking your living conditions seriously."

The comment hit a nerve. Arthur's success had always been a sore spot for her, a constant reminder of her own unfulfilled aspirations. Her words stung, and he felt his temper begin to flare.

"And what would you know about that?" he shot back. "You've never had to chase your dreams because you've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.

Arthur took a deep breath, knowing he had crossed a line. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, trying to backpedal. But the damage was done.

"You don't get it," Arthur said, his voice tight. "You never have. You think because I make videos and sing songs, I don't have a clue about hard work?"

"I didn't say that," Y/N replied, her voice equally as tense. "I said you should take better care of yourself. This place is a mess, and it's a reflection of your priorities."

The accusation stung, and Arthur felt his cheeks heat up. He had always prided himself on his authenticity, his willingness to show his true self to his followers. Yet here she was, suggesting he was a fraud.

"You think I don't know what real work is?" he spat out, his eyes flashing. "You sit in your fancy office all day, sipping lattes and bossing people around, while I'm out here, trying to make a difference in the lives of my fans."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You're not curing cancer with your videos, Arthur."

The words hung in the air, a challenge that Arthur couldn't ignore. "At least I'm not living a lie," he retorted. "Pretending to be someone I'm not just to climb the corporate ladder."

Y/N's job was a sore subject for her, a constant battle against the expectations of their family's legacy. He opened his mouth to intervene, but she was already responding, her voice icy.

"You wouldn't know the first thing about hard work, Arthur," she said, her eyes glinting. "You play dress-up and make jokes for a living. It's easy to be liked when you're not actually doing anything of substance."

The words hit Arthur like a punch to the gut. He had always felt a little guilty about his chosen career path, especially compared to Y/N's high-flying corporate job. But he also knew that his content brought joy and comfort to millions. He clenched his fists, trying to keep his cool.

"You don't know anything about what I do," he said, his voice measured. "You think it's all fun and games, but there's a lot more to it than you see."

Y/N folded her arms, unmoved by his defense. "Oh, I know all about it," she said. "You sit here, making videos that people watch to forget their own lives, and you think that's meaningful?"

"It is to them," Arthur said, his voice rising. "It's more than you do, stuck in your ivory tower."

Y/N's eyes flashed. "At least I'm not living in a fantasy world," she snapped. "At least I'm not chasing after something that's never going to be more than a hobby."

"It's not a hobby," Arthur said, his voice strained. "It's my life."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Your life? More like your escape," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You're afraid to face the real world, so you hide behind a screen and pretend you're important."

*****

Arthur's eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at her, the words cutting deep. He hated her—no, he didn't. He didn't hate her. It was something else, something more complicated. He hated the way she made him feel, the way she brought out his insecurities, the way she questioned his very existence. He hated that she could do that to him.

But he didn't hate her. She was George's sister, and George was his best mate. He couldn't hate her. Could he? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that what he felt was closer to fear. Fear that she might be right. Fear that he was just a glorified clown, dancing for the amusement of the masses.

He took a step towards her, his hands balled into fists. "You don't know anything about me," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "You think you're so much better, but you're just as lost as I am."

Y/N's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes flickered. For a moment, Arthur thought he saw a glimpse of vulnerability, a hint of doubt. But she quickly masked it with a sneer. "You're pathetic," she said. "You're wasting your life on this nonsense."

Arthur felt his heart racing, the blood pounding in his ears. He didn't hate her, not really. But her words stung because they echoed his own fears. He had always wondered if his career was just a facade, a way to avoid the responsibilities of adulthood. Yet here he was, standing up for what he believed in, for the community he had built, the fans who looked up to him.

"You're just jealous," he spat out, the anger giving him courage. "You're jealous that I found something I love, something that makes people happy."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "You think you're so special," she said. "You're not. You're just a pretty face with a decent singing voice."

Arthur felt his anger boil over. "And you're just a cold-hearted bitch," he said, his voice shaking. "You don't know the first thing about love or passion."

Y/N's eyes went wide with shock at the venom in his words. For a moment, she looked as though she had been slapped. Then, she laughed—a bitter, harsh sound that rang through the flat. "Love and passion? Is that what you call it? A bunch of teenagers worshipping you?"

The room was a battleground, the air thick with animosity. The line between love and hate was paper-thin, and it was clear that they had both danced upon it for too long. Arthur's heart felt as though it was being squeezed in a vice, the weight of her accusations crushing him. Yet, amidst the anger, there was something else—a strange warmth that he couldn't quite explain. It was as if their shared disdain had kindled a spark of something more.

Y/N's eyes searched Arthur's, and for a fleeting moment, he saw a flicker of doubt in her gaze. The mask of superiority slipped, revealing a hint of the insecurity that lay beneath. She had always been the successful one, the one who had everything figured out, while he had stumbled into fame almost by accident. Yet here they were, both lost in their own ways.

"Shut up," Arthur murmured, the words barely audible. He didn't know if he was speaking to her or to the voice in his own head, the one that whispered doubt and fear.

Y/N took a step closer, her eyes flashing. "Make me," she challenged, her voice low and dangerous. The air between them crackled with tension.

Arthur's hand shot out, his fingertips brushing against her cheek. It was a gentle touch, a stark contrast to the harshness of their words. Y/N's eyes widened, and she took a sharp intake of breath, as though she hadn't expected the softness. For a second, they just stared at each other, the electricity between them palpable.

Then, before he could think better of it, Arthur leaned in and kissed her—harshly, desperately. He kissed her as if he was trying to prove a point, to show her that he was more than the sum of his YouTube views and singing talents. He kissed her as if he could erase the years of contempt with one fiery gesture.

Y/N's body stiffened, her eyes widening in shock, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into the kiss, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. It was a strange, intoxicating dance of anger and attraction that neither of them had seen coming. The heat between them grew, the air in the room thickening until it was almost suffocating.

*****

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Y/N's cheeks were flushed, her eyes dark with a mix of anger and something else—desire? Arthur couldn't tell. He felt as though he was drowning in confusion, his chest tight with emotion.

"I hate you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. But the way she said it, the way her breath hitched, told him she didn't mean it. Not entirely.

Arthur's chest tightened. "No, you don't," he said, his voice low and intense. "You're just scared."

Y/N's eyes searched his, a storm of emotions raging within them. "Scared of what?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Scared of admitting that maybe, just maybe, we're not so different after all," Arthur said, his voice low and earnest. "Scared of what this could be."

Y/N stared at him, her eyes searched his, looking for a sign that he was joking, that this was all some twisted ploy. But Arthur's gaze was unwavering, his expression raw and vulnerable. The truth of his words hit her like a tidal wave, and she felt the walls she had built around her heart begin to crumble.

"We're nothing alike," she whispered, her voice shaking. But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. They were both chasing their own versions of success, their own ways of making an impact on the world.

Arthur stepped closer, his hand still resting on her cheek. "We're more alike than you think," he said softly. "We both want to be seen, to be heard, to matter."

Y/N's breath hitched. She didn't hate him, not really. But she had spent so long pushing him away, hiding behind her sarcasm and scorn, because the alternative was too terrifying to consider. If she let him in, if she allowed herself to care, she might just get her heart broken. And she had been down that road before—she wasn't sure she could handle it again.

"I don't do feelings," she said, her voice a feeble attempt at the armor she had worn for so long. But Arthur's hand remained on her cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles that seemed to be unraveling her very soul.

"Well, you're doing a bloody good job of hiding them," Arthur said with a sad smile. "But I can see right through you, Y/N. And I think it's about time we both faced them."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of a bluff. But all she found was honesty, a stark contrast to the barbed words they had exchanged just moments ago. Slowly, she reached up and placed her hand over his, her touch tentative yet filled with a spark of hope. "What are you saying, Arthur?"

He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words before speaking them. "I'm saying that maybe, just maybe, we should stop fighting and start understanding each other." His thumb continued to caress her cheek, his gaze never leaving hers. "We're both just trying to find our place in this world, and maybe we could help each other do that."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the walls she had built around herself feeling more fragile than ever. The idea of letting Arthur in, of admitting that she might need someone, was as terrifying as it was tempting. Yet, she couldn't deny the undeniable pull she felt towards him, the way his touch made her feel seen, understood.

"I don't know if I can do that," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've spent so long pushing people away."

Arthur's eyes searched hers, filled with a gentle understanding that seemed to see right through her tough exterior. "I know," he said, his voice equally soft. "But maybe it's time to try something new."

The silence that fell between them was heavier than any of their previous barbs. Y/N felt the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his hand, and the sincerity of his words. It was a stark contrast to the chaos that usually surrounded their interactions, a gentle reminder that love could emerge from the most unlikely of places.

Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of a lie or a hidden motive. But all she found was a mirror to her own confusion and yearning. Arthur was right—they were both lost in their own ways, but perhaps together they could navigate the tumultuous waters of life.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice shaky with uncertainty. "Okay, let's try."

Their kiss was not gentle this time, but it was not fueled by anger either. It was a kiss of understanding, of two souls colliding in the messiness of their shared existence. Arthur's arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and she melted into him, her own arms snaking around his waist. It was as though they had been holding onto this moment for years, waiting for the perfect storm of words and emotions to bring it to the surface.

As they broke away, both panting, they stared at each other with a newfound appreciation. The hostility that had once dominated their interactions was now replaced with a strange, thrilling anticipation. They had both been hiding behind their own fears and insecurities, throwing jabs and insults to keep the other at bay. But in that one moment, they had found a common ground—the mess of their lives.

Arthur knew that real love didn't emerge from a perfect, pristine environment. It grew in the cracks of doubt and the weeds of imperfection. It was in the chaos of their shouting match that he had seen the real Y/N, the one who was just as lost and scared as he was. And in that chaos, he had found something beautiful—a spark of connection that was more real than any of the scripted moments in his videos.

They stood there, in the silence that followed the storm of their words, their hearts racing in unison. The tension between them had shifted, no longer a barrier but a bridge, a delicate yet solid connection that neither wanted to break. Y/N's eyes searched Arthur's, looking for confirmation that this was real, that she wasn't just imagining the tenderness in his gaze.

*****

"I'm sorry," Arthur murmured, his thumb still tracing circles on her cheek. "For everything."

Y/N nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Me too," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I've been a bitch."

Arthur's hand slid down to her neck, his thumb brushing against the rapid pulse in her throat. "You've had your reasons," he said, his voice gentle. "But let's leave them behind now."

Y/N nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek. "Okay," she whispered. "Let's start again."

Arthur wiped the tear away with his thumb, his eyes never leaving hers. "We don't have to start over," he said softly. "We just have to start… differently."

Y/N took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling against his chest. "Differently," she echoed, the word feeling strange and yet incredibly right on her tongue.

Arthur's gaze searched hers, his eyes filled with a warmth she hadn't seen before. It was as though he had just discovered a hidden treasure, something precious that had been buried beneath layers of anger and misunderstanding.

"I didn't know," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "I didn't know it could feel like this."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searched his, and she could see the realization dawning in his gaze—the raw, unfiltered understanding of what love truly meant. It was as if he had just stepped into the sunlight after years of darkness.

Arthur's eyes searched hers, the weight of his realization heavy in his gaze. It was a look that spoke of a thousand unsaid words, of moments of doubt and fear that had led them to this precipice. In that instant, she knew that he saw her—the real her, not the armored version she presented to the world. He saw the vulnerability she had worked so hard to hide, the softness that lay beneath the sharp edges of her sarcasm.

"Neither did I," she murmured, her voice shaky. She felt the warmth of his breath against her skin, the steady beat of his heart under her palm. The tension between them had transformed into something new, something that made her heart flutter in a way she had long ago convinced herself she was immune to.

They stood there, in the quiet aftermath of their confrontation, the air charged with the electricity of their newfound connection. It was strange, terrifying, and yet, somehow, it felt more real than anything she had ever experienced. For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly understood her.

"We'll take it slow," Arthur said, his voice low and soothing. "We'll get to know each other without the baggage of what we've always thought we knew."

Y/N nodded, the tightness in her chest slowly easing. The idea of taking it slow was both comforting and exhilarating. She had always rushed into things, eager to prove herself, to conquer and claim. But with Arthur, she felt the need to be gentle, to tiptoe around the fragility of this newfound bond.

"Okay," she said, her voice a whisper. "We'll start tonight."

*****

They decided to order takeout, a simple meal of fish and chips from the chippy down the street. As they waited, Arthur suggested they watch one of his videos together, one that had a special meaning to him. Y/N agreed, her curiosity piqued.

The video was of Arthur singing a cover of an obscure indie song, the melody haunting and beautiful. As he watched her reaction, he explained how the lyrics had resonated with him during a particularly tough time in his life, how the words had given him the courage to keep going. Y/N listened, her eyes never leaving the screen, and for the first time, she saw the depth of his passion, the raw emotion that fueled his art.

When the video ended, she turned to him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I had no idea," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I never knew you felt like that."

Arthur took her hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on her skin. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he said, his voice gentle. "And I want to show you."

The night stretched out before them, a canvas of unexplored possibilities. They talked, shared stories, and laughed—the kind of laughter that washed away the years of tension and left them feeling lighter, freer. It was a tentative start, a delicate dance of opening up to each other.

As they sat there, on the couch in Arthur's cluttered flat, surrounded by the detritus of his life, Y/N felt something within her shift. It was as though she had been holding her breath for years, and now, finally, she could exhale.

The kiss that followed was not driven by anger or spite. It was born of a newfound respect, a tentative curiosity that grew into a blaze of passion. Their lips met, and it was as though all the words they had left unsaid were finally finding their voice.

When they parted, Y/N's heart was racing, her cheeks flushed. She looked into Arthur's eyes and saw the same wonder reflected in his gaze. They had crossed a line, stepped into a place neither had dared to tread before.

"I don't know what this is," she murmured, her voice husky.

Arthur leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "Neither do I," he said. "But I know I don't want to let it go."

And so, with the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the window, they embraced the uncertainty, the thrill of the unknown. They had found something in each other that was more than just friendship or rivalry. It was a connection that defied logic, a bond forged in the fires of their shared pain and doubt.

As they sat there, holding each other tightly, Y/N felt the first stirrings of a love that had been buried beneath layers of contempt. It was a love that had been waiting for the right moment to emerge, a love that was as real and as raw as the music that filled Arthur's soul.

The future was uncertain, fraught with the potential for either heartbreak or a love that could surpass their wildest dreams. Yet, in that moment, all that mattered was the here and now. They decided to take it one day at a time, to build their relationship on a foundation of honesty and mutual respect.

The weeks that followed were filled with tentative smiles and gentle touches, as they both learned to navigate the new waters of their blossoming relationship. Y/N began to see Arthur not just as George's friend, but as a complex individual with his own fears and aspirations. She admired his dedication to his craft and the way he connected with his fans, bringing joy to the lives of so many.

Arthur, in turn, discovered the strength and resilience behind Y/N's sharp exterior. He saw the passion she brought to her work, the way she fought for what she believed in, even when the odds were stacked against her. Her ambition was no longer a source of irritation but a quality he found himself drawn to, a reminder that there was more to life than just his own small corner of the internet.

*****

Their first date was a simple walk along the South Bank, the Thames reflecting the soft glow of the setting sun. They talked about their hopes, their fears, and the moments that had shaped them into the people they were today. The conversation flowed as easily as the river beside them, and with each step, they grew closer.

Holding hands, they stumbled upon a small jazz club, the music spilling out onto the cobbled streets. Arthur looked at Y/N, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Dance with me?" he asked, leading her inside.

The intimate venue was crowded, but they found a spot near the stage. As the music swelled around them, they swayed together, lost in the rhythm and the warmth of their bodies. Y/N felt a sense of belonging she hadn't experienced in a long time, as though she had finally found a place where she truly fit.

Their relationship grew steadily, each moment revealing a new facet of the other. They discovered shared interests, like a love for obscure British sitcoms and a passion for long, meandering conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. The flat that had once been a battleground of snark and sarcasm now echoed with laughter and whispered secrets.

Yet, as much as they enjoyed their time together, the specter of their past remained. George, caught in the middle, watched with a mix of bewilderment and happiness as his sister and best friend grew closer. He knew the history of their animosity, the depth of the scars that still lingered beneath the surface.

One evening, as the three of them sat around Arthur's kitchen table, the tension grew thick. Y/N reached for Arthur's hand under the table, a silent plea for support. He squeezed it gently, a reminder that they were in this together.

"Look," Arthur said, breaking the silence. "We've all said things we regret. But we're trying to move forward. Can't we just… be happy for each other?"

George studied them, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "I just want you two to be happy," he said. "But don't expect me to understand it."

Y/N and Arthur shared a look, a silent promise to navigate this new chapter with care. It was a step forward, a small but significant one. They knew they had a long way to go, but for now, they were content to simply enjoy the dance they had found themselves in.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @pookietv

[castiwls]

slim pickins' .ᐟ

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'A boy who's jacked and kind. Can't find his ass to save my life'

Requested; @valesevermore13

Notes; the writing bug is back!

Masterlist | short n sweet

“I seriously think I'm meant to be alone.” You sighed pressing a hand to your head as you sat down at the kitchen table. Sam glanced up pushing his coffee cup towards you smiling sympathetically. “Another bust?”

“That’s putting it lightly.” You scoffed taking a sip from the mug. The liquid was warm as you breathed in the smell for a moment, a smile of relief pulling at your lips. The dull pounding in your head from the one too many glasses of wine seemed to lessen slightly as you took another sip.

“I think I drank a whole bottle of wine and he was still a dull self-obsessed asshole. Your date had spent the whole night talking about himself and his own achievements in and out of the gym. Safe to say you’d tuned out within the first half an hour deciding that you would get a better conversation with a puppy than the guy in front of you.

“Dating sucks.” You nodded watching as Sam nodded with a sympathetic smile. “I really thought it would get easier when I got older! That maybe college boys would finally mature past the age of twelve but I guess I was wrong.”

Sam laughed quietly. “Hmm. Most guys don’t really lose that one-track mind.” He reached back for the coffee cup. “Deans a prime example.” He teased taking a sip. You huffed a laugh. “Dean gets a pass because I’ve seen him hold a long-term relationship.”

“Once.” Sam rebuttled placing the mug down. “My brother has had one real long-term relationship.”

“Haven’t you also only had one?” You narrowed your eyes for a moment, watching as Sam’s eyes widened for a moment. He pursed his lips tapping his hand on the table. 

He’d had more than one long-term relationship.

“I've had more than one, during high school for example.” He hummed watching as you levelled his gaze, challenging him almost. “High school doesn’t count.”

He hummed. “Fine I’ve had one real relationship but it’s not exactly like what we do allows us to stay in one place.” He had a point. It’s not like he hadn’t been trying either. Everyone but you seemed to notice the huge crush he’d had on you since the moment you’d both met.

Sure he’d met girls he liked but none of them could ever sway the feelings he had for you. Yet you seemed blissfully unaware. You continued to find guys who you knew weren’t worth your time, and you went out with them and missed the looks that Sam had been sending you consistently.

Maybe it was selfish to say he was the better option. But he knew he was. 

You nodded. “Hmm. I guess.” Sam smiled finishing off his mug before standing. “You want one?”

You nodded. “Milk-”

“Two sugars. I know.”

He turned back to the counter and you paused. He knew how you took your coffee? Why did Sam know that? Even the last guy you’d been ‘seeing’ didn’t know that. Shaking yourself out of your suprise you glance to where he’d been sitting. You reach over to pull the book towards you, your eyes scanning it for a moment.

It’s another lore book. You scan it for a moment before a cup is placed down besides you. “Thanks.” You smile looking up. Sam hummed looking at the book for a moment. “You mentioned that case in Jones town.” He nods to the book. “I looked into it further, it’s probably another vamp. The killings line up and they all seem to be connected.”

You hum. “I forgot I’d mentioned that.” You frown looking back down to the book. In doing so you miss the slight blush which dusted his cheeks. You’d forgotten but he hadn’t.

Clearing his throat he placed his own mug down. “I guess you were busy with Tommy.”

“Yeah. But that’s over now so!” You shrugged. 

You both lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few moments, Sam shifting on his feet as you read over his notes. You were quiet as you read. Occasionally pausing to re-read something he’d written before carrying on down the page.

He watched in an almost trans-like state. Even first thing in the morning you were still beautiful, hangover or not. His hand idly clenched and unclenched into a fist as he rocked on his heels.

“Do you wanna go on a date.” 

A stunned silence followed as you both processed what he had just said. Sam’s eyes went wide as your hand which had been going to grab your mug stilled.

Surely you’d heard him wrong. Sam Winchester was not offering to take you out on a date. 

After the shit show of last night, you’d promised yourself to stay away from guys. Finding one that had any sort of emotions and basic brains seemed impossible. “I uh…forget I said that - I don’t know why I said that.” Sam stuttered, a hand rubbing the back of his neck as he silently cursed himself. 

Way to make things awkward.

“Are you saying that out of pity or because you genuinely want to do that?”

Sam paused at your response. You weren’t saying no and that had to be a good thing. Right?

“Not out of pitty, deffently.” He laughed slightly trying to find the words. “It’s just...I guess we don’t have much option and most of the guys in this town seem…”

“Self-obsessed?” You smiled.

Sam huffed before nodding. “That’s one way to put it.” He fell quiet for a moment before taking a breath. “You deserve at least one good date.” He frowned slightly. 

“Your choices might seem extremely limited but there are good guys out there.”

You hummed. “It’s just finding them.”

Sam smiled again taking his seat opposite you. Maybe you’d been looking in the wrong places and in turn, missed the one decent guy who wanted to give you the relationship you’d been craving.

“I think I’ll take you up on that date.”

[overlyobsessed223]

wrote a quick halbarry drabble to try and ease myself back into writing, thought i'd throw it up onto here. with this i can cross the "only one bed" trope off my ever shrinking list of cliches i've never done before

---

“What are you doing?”

Barry blinks in confusion, pausing in his efforts to make up the couch and turning his head in the direction of Hal’s voice. The hotel room is dark, all the lamps turned off and the drapes drawn shut, meaning he can only barely see the vague outline of Hal’s form on the bed. The one, singular bed they were given instead of the two beds Bruce had promised he’d reserved for them. Upon entering the room and realizing they’d only been given the one bed, Hal had been immediately convinced that Bruce had lied just to be an asshole, while Barry had been more inclined to believe the apologetic hotel manager when she’d told them she was so, so sorry, but there was an error in the booking system and, unfortunately, there were no more double rooms available for the night. 

Having already been worn down from the day’s Justice League mission, Barry hadn’t felt much other than faint resignation regarding the bed situation. He let Hal grab a shower first, and when Hal sauntered over to the large, king-sized bed and flopped onto it face-first with a pained groan, Barry figured it was only fair to let him have the bed. After all, Hal’s bruises and sore muscles surely won’t fare well sleeping on the stiff and lumpy couch cushions, and it might make for a rough night of rest for Barry but at least his fully healed body will be able to handle it better. 

“I’m… getting ready for bed?” Barry responds, glancing back down at the half-prepared couch, trying to figure out what he’d missed and coming up empty. 

“Yeah, but why are you over on the couch?” Hal sounds just as confused as Barry feels. “Why don’t you just sleep in the bed?”

“Uh, because you’re already in it,” Barry points out. Shouldn’t that be obvious?

“So?” Through the darkness, Barry sees Hal prop himself onto his elbows and hears him pat the empty side of the bed. “This is literally the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. There’s more than enough room for both of us.”

It finally dawns on Barry, then, that Hal means they should both sleep in the bed. Together. Barry swallows, his mouth suddenly having gone dry. 

“Oh, um, I don’t think,” Barry frowns, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. He’s been Hal’s friend for many years at this point, but they’ve never shared the same bed before. Barry’s always been under the impression that that would be weird and in violation of some kind of friendship boundary. Not that he’s spent much time thinking about sharing a bed with Hal in the first place. Honest. “I��m fine with just taking the couch, Hal. Really, I am.”

Even in the near pitch blackness, Barry can still feel Hal’s stare boring into him.

“Barry, you’re not sleeping over on that shitty ass couch over a perfectly fine bed, that’s just stupid,” Hal says. Barry can practically hear the eye roll in his voice. Sighing exasperatingly, Hal cuts off the protest that’s currently loaded up on Barry’s tongue, “would you just come get into bed so we can both get the fuck to sleep? Seriously, Bar, this doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

“Okay,” Barry acquiesces against his better judgment, shuffling over to the bed. He awkwardly slides under the covers, and admittedly, the mattress feels worlds better on his spine and neck than the couch. Pulling the covers up to his chin, he lies there stiff as a board, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the city outside and Hal’s breathing. 

“You can relax, man,” Hal huffs with laughter after a minute. “Don’t worry, I swear I’ll keep my hands to myself. I won’t cuddle up to you in the middle of the night or anything. I mean, not unless you want me to.”

Barry lets out a soft snort, feeling himself start to unwind and relax. It’s just Hal, he reminds himself, his best and most trusted friend Hal. There’s no reason for him to feel weird, or self-conscious about this. Really, the situation is only as awkward as they decide to make it, and clearly, Hal has already decided he’s not bothered. Maybe Barry shouldn’t be, either. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Barry blurts out without thinking. He instantly regrets saying it, his eyes growing wide and his face heating up instantly. “I—I mean, uh—”

“Yeah?” Hal questions suggestively, and Barry can imagine him quirking his brow, wearing the beginnings of a cheeky grin. 

Barry lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

“Yeah,” Barry says, busying himself with playing with the edges of the blanket. 

“Alright,” Hal hums thoughtfully. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And when Barry wakes in the morning to Hal’s arm slung over him, face pressed into his shoulder, it feels just… normal. Completely and utterly normal. 

Oh, Barry thinks to himself. 

Oh. 

[justagalwhowrites]

Hi! Soooo I've read a lot of amazing Joel Miller fics, but Lavender is seriously my all time favorite. Doc and Joel's story just made me so emotional. Here's my request for a drabble/oneshot- a sneak peak into Doc and Joel's relationship when they first get together pre-outbreak. Specifically, Joel takes Doc out on a nice dinner date for the first time and she feels super special and they are starting to catch so many feels for each other. Thank you!!!

OMG Hi Bestie!

So you sent this ask in like... 1.5 million years ago and this isn't EXACTLY it but... I think it fits the vibe. I hope. So here's Joel and Doc's first Valentine's Day together. I hope you like it!

Cupid

You and Joel spend Valentine's Day together. A Lavender one shot. Can be read as a stand alone with the understanding that Joel and Reader have an established relationship.

^We're gonna pretend that's Joel for this, OK? OK.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (From Lavender)

CW: Smut :) Just some fluffy, fun, p in v smut. They're in love and we love that for them. Pre-Outbreak. Age gap but not the focus of the fic (11 years, reader is 22 Joel is 33.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only.

Length: 3.8k

Wednesday, February 14, 2001

You’d never had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before. 

The thought made you oddly nervous. Not that Joel had given you anything to be nervous about, of course, but you were. Valentine’s Day had always just been another day for you. Sometimes Nan got you one of the little boxes of chocolates but, otherwise, it had never been something you had a reason to celebrate. You were just so used to ignoring it that, until Saturday, you hadn’t even thought about Valentine’s Day. 

You’d been in bed with Joel. It was late and your bodies were pressed close together, his skin on yours, your nose nuzzled into his throat, your head still a bit fuzzy from the orgasms. 

“How do you feel about goin’ to dinner Wednesday?” He asked softly, his fingers trailing over your side, lips in your hair. 

You frowned against him. 

“Doesn’t Sarah have practice?” 

“Canceled,” he said. “Besides, I was gonna get Tommy to take her, anyway. He’s already taking her for the night so we can have some privacy.” 

You frown deepened and you felt him chuckle against you. 

“Did you forget?” He asked. 

“No,” you said defensively. “I just… didn’t know there was something to forget.” 

He laughed a little again. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day baby,” he said. “Fully intend on takin’ full advantage of any holiday that lets me romance you.” 

Joel seemed to mean it. By Wednesday night, you didn’t know the details of what he was planning - you didn’t get to see him on Tuesdays, Sarah had Girl Scouts across town and your classes ran too late to see him before her meeting - but he’d sent flowers to your apartment the day before your date, timed when you were home for lunch between classes with a card that said he loved you and told you to be ready to go at 5:30 Wednesday night. 

You weren’t sure if you were doing your part in this right at all. You’d spent a good chunk of Sunday shopping and cursing yourself for not remembering freaking Valentine’s Day. It’s not like there weren’t heart shaped boxes of candy sitting out every time you went to the grocery store, it should have occurred to you. It just hadn’t even registered that it would apply to you now. 

You at least had an idea of what you wanted to get him and weren’t going in completely blind. You’d been keeping an eye out at thrift stores for vintage shirts from his favorite bands, never exactly hunting for them but always checking the men’s section when you went in to find something for yourself. You also had a picture from a trip to a museum of you, Joel and Sarah had made that you’d been keeping to give him at some point, wanting to frame it for him. 

It took a few hours - and stops at four different thrift stores - but you eventually found a Fleetwood Mac shirt that you thought was from the 70s and was wearing thin in a few places but you were sure he’d like it. You found the perfect frame, too, the wood cracking at the sides but you had a plan for that. 

You fixed the frame, coloring the glue forest green so it was like vines were growing on a tree and put the picture of the three of you in it. It was off center, you’d been holding the camera away from yourselves and hoping that you were all in the frame. You were looking at Sarah, she was looking at you and Joel had his perfect, crooked smile that made his cheek dimple and his eyes shine. 

You made brownies that afternoon, covering them in pink glaze and red heart sprinkles before piling them on a plate and sneaking a bite of one before getting ready. You took a curling iron to your hair and did your makeup and painted your nails red before slipping into a dress you’d found when shopping for Joel’s shirt, black and form fitting and you tried to not feel like an imposter as you tied the red ribbon around the half ponytail at the back of your head. 

There was a knock at your door and you took a last look at yourself in your bedroom mirror, breathing deep and trying to calm your thudding heart before you answered it. 

“Jesus, baby,” Joel said, a look of almost awe on his handsome face as you opened the door. “Should warn a man before you show up lookin’ like that…” 

“Is it too much?” You asked, looking down at yourself. “I can change…” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “You look fuckin’ amazing.” 

You put your arms around his neck and kissed him, smiling against his mouth, before stepping back from him. He’d dressed up, too, in black jeans with a white button down shirt that he’d tucked in and worn with a belt. He even had on a tan blazer, one that looked almost too small for his broad shoulders.

“You look so good!” You were practically giddy, hands going over your mouth to keep from sounding too excited. Joel laughed a little. 

“Don’t know if it warrants that much of a reaction. But figured I’d at least try to look like I belonged out with someone as pretty as you,” he teased and you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, we don’t leave now we are in very real danger of not making it out of the house, you are too damn tempting.” 

Joel led you to his truck - which was almost shockingly clean, water from the car wash still dripping from his bumper - and opened the door for you, offering you his hand as you climbed in. 

“So,” you smiled as he started driving. “Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see,” he smiled back. “Believe it or not, had something cookin’ for a minute.” 

His hand found the inside of your knee, the callus of his thumb stroking the skin there. You tried to figure out where you were going as he drove but you were still caught totally off guard when he parked in front of a French restaurant you’d been dying to try. 

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped. “Joel!” 

He laughed and took your hand, kissing your  knuckles. 

“Know you’ve been wanting to try it,” he said. “Turns out a guy on my crew’s sister works here so I could wrangle a reservation…” 

“This is amazing!” You were practically giddy, going to open your door, but Joel stopped you. 

“Gotta let me try to be a gentleman,” he kissed your hand again. “Sit tight.” 

He got out and jogged around the front of the truck, opening your door and offering you his hand. 

“Why thank you sir,” you said, trying to sound aloof and dignified. You didn’t think you pulled it off, too busy smiling to make it convincing. He pulled you in close and pressed a kiss to your temple before putting his hand on the small of your back and guiding you into the restaurant. 

They sat you at a table in a secluded corner, a white tablecloth and the low glow of a candle setting the scene. The host handed you a menu in a leather book with a gold tassel on the end and you waited for him to leave the table before you mouthed “oh my god” at Joel, who smiled and laughed quietly across the table. 

The menu had was full of French foods you’d only dreamed of trying at a restaurant: coq au vin, confit de canard, gigot d’agneau. There was even boeuf bourguignon. But the prices made your eyes go wide, your newly-painted nails digging into the leather of the menu. 

“Don’t think I can get that beef you make,” Joel said absently, looking at the menu. “Not gonna measure up to yours, don’t care how good the restaurant is…” 

“Joel,” you whispered over your menu. He looked up from his, brows raised. “We really don’t need to eat here…” 

He frowned. 

“Not seein’ something you want?” He asked. “We can go somewhere else, might be hard to get a table but…” 

“No!” You shook your head quickly. “No, the food looks great but…” 

You bit your lip and trailed off and he watched you, waiting for you to finish. 

“But?” He asked eventually. 

“But this place is…” you lowered your voice. “This is expensive. We really don’t have to eat here just because I’ve talked about it, we can go anywhere, we can just order a pizza if you want, I really don’t need all this, this is…” 

“Baby,” he cut you off, a crooked smile on his face. “Don’t worry about the price. Been wanting to take you here since this place opened, set aside some money for it. Get whatever you want.” 

“But…” 

He set the menu down and crossed his arms over the table, leaning over it toward you. 

“You gonna let me spoil my girl for Valentine’s Day or are you gonna give me trouble?” He asked. You frowned a little, thumb toying with the corner of the menu. Joel tilted his head until you met his gaze. “I mean it, baby. Really want to do this. Please let me?” 

“OK,” you said, still uncertain and looking at the menu again, looking for the least expensive entree.

“Swear to god you order the cheapest thing, we’re comin’ back next week,” Joel said as though he read your mind. “You’d better get what you actually want.” 

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, trying your best to ignore the price column on the menu.

You settled on the duck and Joel got the steak frites and, once the numbers were out of your head, you were able to relax more, savoring the wine and running your heel-clad foot over the inside of Joel’s leg from across the table. 

“You would’ve been makin’ fun of me last night, Baby,” he smiled, taking a sip of his wine. “Remember how I told you Sarah didn’t know what she wanted to bring to school for Valentine’s Day?” 

“Yeah,” you frowned. 

“Well,” he laughed. “She decided yesterday she wanted cupcakes. So we stopped by the store on the way home from scouts, got the themed cake mix, all that. But she really wanted to try and do it herself so I started out just supervisin’… ended up running the cake mix through the pasta strainer to get all the egg shells out of it, that girl was in rare form…” 

“Oh no!” You laughed, loud enough that the table close to you shot you a glare and you tried not to laugh harder when you quieted down. “How’d they turn out?” 

“Alright I think,” he said. “They were kinda lopsided but tasted fine. We split one this morning.” 

“You send her off to school with a sugar high?” You teased. 

“Not from half a cupcake,” he waved you off. “The little box of candy I caved and let her have this morning did that.” 

You giggled. 

“I’m sure her teacher appreciated that.” 

“I’m just hopin’ with the sweets from school it carried through to when Tommy picked her up from school,” he smirked a little. “Think I owe ‘em for loading her up with candy after Halloween last year, as if she didn’t have enough already…” 

The food was incredible, so good you had to set your fork down to focus on the flavor of the first bite, Joel smiling almost proudly from across the table. By the time you were done, you were two glasses of wine deep - Joel ordering a second for you before you could stop him - and he was holding your calf under the table, hand sliding over the muscle to cup your ankle, thumb massaging the tendon there. 

“You’ve been playin’ a dangerous game over there, baby,” he said, voice low. 

“You’re hot,” you said, almost shyly. “Can’t help it.” 

“Thinkin’ I should get you home,” he said. “Get you outta that dress.” 

“I’m thinking you’re right,” you said, heat settling low around your hips. 

Joel’s mouth was on you before you even got your front door closed, your arms around his neck and his hands on your ass, holding you tight to the front of him. 

“I,” you kissed him. “Got,” another kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Something.” 

“Really?” 

Another kiss as you nodded. 

“Didn’t need to do that, baby…” 

“Too bad,” you smiled, kissing him long and hard before pulling back from him. “I like doing stuff for you, too, you know.” 

You took his hands and led him to your bedroom, sitting him on the bed before handing him the box with the shirt and frame inside. He opened it almost reverently, a little smile pulling up at the corners of his lips as he did. 

“It’s not as good as what you did,” you said, sitting next to him, twisting your fingers around on themselves as he lifted the lid of the box. 

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, picking up the frame, his thumb tracing the parts you’d repaired. “This is perfect… when was this?” 

“Remember when Sarah and I were on Christmas break and we went to the natural history museum the day before New Year’s Eve?” You said. 

“That was a good day,” he smiled down at the picture before setting it on your nightstand and he laughed as he got out the shirt. “Where the hell’d you find this?” 

“I’ve been keeping an eye out,” you smiled. “It’s well loved but I did wash it already…” 

He cut you off with a kiss before you could finish, dropping the box and the shirt to the floor as he pulled you against him, his lips insistent and needy on yours. He quickly shrugged out of his jacket as you fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and he unzipped your dress. You got each other undressed quickly, his mouth on yours as he lay you below him, his large hand cupping your pussy before he slipped two fingers between your swollen, slick lips, tracing over your entrance before sliding up to tease your clit as he settled between your thighs. 

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he panted against you, pushing his fingers into your tight channel, just up to the first knuckle. “This all for me, baby?” 

You nodded and tried to pull him closer, to bring his body fully against your own, but he stayed just far enough away that you could feel the warmth of his skin but not the softness of him itself. You groaned and he smiled as he trailed kisses over your jaw to your throat. 

“Seems like you might want somethin’,” he teased a little. You just nodded. “Should say what you want, baby, so I know what to give you.” 

“You,” your fingers scrambled over his back, desperate to find some kind of leverage. “Want you, please Joel…” 

He kissed you gently but you could feel the hunger behind it. He needed you, too, you could feel it in him. 

“OK baby,” he said softly, lining himself up at your entrance, the swell of his cock just close enough to start to part your walls without pushing in. “Give you what you want…” 

He kissed you as he pressed into you, a moment of resistance before the thickness of his shaft entered you. You whimpered at the stretch of him, arching into his touch, your pussy already starting to tighten and flutter around him. 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “You already close?” 

You just nodded as he pushed deeper, his cock opening you to him until he was fully inside you, his head pressed firmly against the part of you that made you press your hips up against him and your fingers dig into his skin. You felt yourself pulse around him once before going even tighter as he moaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. 

“Goddamn you feel good,” he panted. “Not gonna last once you come baby, tellin’ you that right now…” 

“S’OK,” you clumsily rocked your hips up against his, desperate for that last little bit of friction you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Just… I need…” 

“I got you,” he said, pressing somehow deeper and making you whimper below him. “Give you just what you need. Take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.” 

He started slow but hard, the steady drag of his cock as he pulled back from you followed by the firm, heavy thrust of him as he fucked back into you. You matched his rhythm, moving your body in time with his, his skin warm on your own, his brown eyes warm and soft and deep on yours. You clung to him as his pace increased, your body getting tighter around him, orgasm building until your head was fuzzy and all you could feel was the desperate heat of pleasure deep inside you. 

“Want you to come for me, baby,” Joel panted, one arm slipping below your arched back. He tilted your hips ever so slightly, the angle adjusted just enough that he could press deeper, his hips against your clit, all of him hitting you just right. You gasped at the change, your arms latching onto him tighter, your hips stuttering against him. “Oh fuck, there you go, just come for me, that’s it, c’mon, just give in to it baby, just…” 

You cried out as you came, Joel holding you close and tight, his movements never slowing as he chased his own orgasm inside you, thrusting hard and deep until he pressed against the back wall of you as you throbbed over him, coming undone with a shaky groan. You felt him pulse inside of you, emptying himself deep until he went limp on top of you. He adjusted quickly as you caught your breath, rolling onto his back and taking you with him so you ended up sprawled on top of him, your nose nuzzled against his neck as he held you, his large palm gently tracing over your back. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you hummed happily, whole body feeling soft and hazy as you just focused on his skin against yours. 

“You’re too good to me,” you sighed as you snuggled into him. You could feel him frown. 

“Why’d you say that?” 

“Because you are,” you kissed his neck. “You did way too much for me today, I can’t measure up.” 

“Hey,” he said quietly, pulling back from you just enough that he could look into your eyes. “Don’t say that, that ain’t true…” 

“Yes it is,” you said, running your fingers through his curls. “I loved it, I loved it so, so much. But it’s too much, I can’t do the same in return, I don’t deserve…” 

“Yes you do,” he cut you off, giving you a little squeeze. “Baby, you do so much for me just by existing near me, you realize that?” You looked at him skeptically but he didn’t give you a chance to argue. “I mean it. My life is so much better because of you. Never thought I could love someone the way I love you, you made me understand this kind of thing existed at all. You make me laugh more than anyone else I’ve ever met and you are so damn sweet. Plus you’re so smart, I could just sit and watch how your mind works all damn day and never get bored and the fact that you’d just let me… Not to mention how you take care of me and Sarah. Never thought I’d find a woman who could love my little girl like you do. You’ve given me everything and you do it every damn day. I just wanted to try and give you some of that back.” 

“Joel,” you said softly, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. 

“Never had a ton goin’ for me,” he said, smiling a little. “Always kinda figured I’d fucked my life up at some point but… I wouldn’t have Sarah or you without everything I did leading up to it. Makes me feel like I did something right to get the two of you in the end, you know?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, kissing him softly. “I know.” 

He smiled his gentle, crooked smile at you and you just looked into his chocolate brown eyes for a moment before you sat up quickly, remembering. 

“I made you brownies!” You almost jumped out of bed and Joel laughed, catching your wrist as you untangled yourself from the sheets. 

“Wasn’t done with you yet,” he tugged you closer, kissing up the inside of your arm. 

“I’ll be right back,” you said. “Promise.” 

You went to the kitchen and put two of the brownies onto a small plate and got a large glass of water before going back to your bedroom, Joel sitting with his back propped against your headboard. You handed him the water before you climbed in bed with him, holding the plate out to him. He laughed a little. 

“These look amazing,” he said, picking up a brownie and taking a huge bite, groaning a little in pleasure as he did. “Taste amazing too,” he said, his mouth full. “You’d have been ashamed of those cupcakes…” 

“Next time Sarah has a baking project, just call me,” you said, taking a bite of your own brownie. “I take sex in payment for culinary lessons for the right client. Namely you.” 

He smiled, tugging you against him. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

You snuggled in closer. 

“Think we should make these brownies a holiday tradition,” Joel said, finishing his and kissing your temple. “These are damn good.” 

“Plenty more where that came from, Miller,” you teased a little, sucking some of the pink frosting off your thumb. “You know, this was my first real Valentine’s Day.” 

“Yeah?” Joel asked, looking down at you as best he could as you stayed tucked against his side. “I do OK?” 

“You did amazing,” you smiled. “Ruined me for all other men.” 

“Good,” he said, settling back against the headboard. “Gonna need all other men to keep their hands off you, anyway.” 

You smiled a little at that, the idea of being his and he being yours. He nuzzled down into your hair, his lips pressing against the crown of your head. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he said quietly. “First of many.” 

Your smile grew. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”  

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 64: Alexander's Plans

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, hypnosis

September 1905

Oscar couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had seeped into his every waking hour. He was no stranger to dread, of course. As an unusually long-lived vampire hunter, he'd been through so many moments where he was sure he was about to die that they all tended to blend together.

But something was different about this. The guild headquarters seemed eerily quiet. Raucous celebrations of successful vampire slayings had gradually vanished. In their place, the hunters shuffled silently through the halls, barely acknowledging each other.

He was their leader, as much as such a disorganized, scattered group even had a leader, and he took the responsibility seriously. He owed it both to the younger hunters and to the civilians of the city to have a well-run vampire hunters' guild. They deserved a city where they could walk freely at night without fear of a vile bloodsucker stealing them away, warping their minds, and draining their very lives to fuel a shambling corpse. They deserved better than what he could give, but there was no one else for the job.

Oscar pulled his lieutenant Grace into his tiny office partially to discuss the situation with her and partially to escape from the oppressive atmosphere. She was an uncanny sure-shot with a crossbow, and Oscar had trusted her with his life on many occasions. If there was anyone he could confide in about his concerns, it was Grace.

"Have you noticed anything strange about Maggie lately?" Oscar asked.

"Maggie… she's seemed tired, I think," Grace replied. "I've always suspected she's not quite cut out for this life. Don't tell her I said this, but if you ask me, she's lucky she hasn't become a meal yet." She scratched at the scar on her neck, the eternal reminder that Grace had been a vampire's last meal herself.

"It's not just Maggie. It's others. Leo, too. Chuck. And Frank -- he hasn't been bringing in kills, but he hasn't been bugging me for drinking money, either. He has a look in his eye…"

"Hunters go a bit mad all the time. Hell, I'm sure we have too."

"It's different this time, Grace! I can feel it in the air." Oscar clenched his fists, wracking his mind for the right words to explain what he felt in his bones, coming up empty. "Maybe I am a bit mad."

Grace laid an understanding hand on his shoulder. "Your intuition has never steered me wrong. If you think there's something going on with the rest of the hunters, I believe you. I'm just not sure what you think it is."

"I'm not entirely sure myself," he admitted, "but sometimes I wonder if they've been compromised."

"Compromised?"

"By a vampire. There's too many powerful bloodsuckers we've failed to keep under control. We wouldn't be the first guild to be taken down from the inside by one of them."

Grace's eyes flickered with thought. "It's possible. But what would you propose, then? We're so short-handed as it is -- I don't think we can afford to kick all of those hunters out of the guild just on a suspicion."

"Of course not. I just want to keep an eye on them. See if there are signs. Stop them before they betray us, if it is true," he said. "You have a way with people, Grace. I don't. I've spent too much time hidden away in crumbling buildings watching for monsters. But you can talk to them, watch them. I need you for this."

Maybe it was his imagination, but Grace looked strangely conflicted by such a simple request. For a moment, Oscar was afraid that his imagined infiltrator had reached her, too. But no, it couldn't be -- someone as sensible and willful as Grace would never let herself be trapped by a vampire's crude charms.

"All right, Oscar," she said after a too-long pause. "All right. I'll watch them. But I'm worried about you. You've hardly slept lately, haven't you?"

"Are you saying I'm only being paranoid because of lack of sleep?"

"No. I told you that I believe your intuition. But I'm also concerned about your health. Don't you think you should rest?"

"I'll rest when I have time to rest," said Oscar. Grace was right, of course, but it still irritated him -- he asked for a lieutenant, not a mother. "Tonight, I have to --"

Oscar's words stopped abruptly. He heard something odd. Something almost like music. But it wasn't like one of the hunters singing after a kill, or drunkenly playing an instrument. It was something else, something eerie and unsettling.

"Grace, do you hear that? That music?"

"I don't hear anything. Are you trying to change the --"

"Shush! Listen." It was a low hum, the sort that could build in your mind over time and drive you mad, getting louder all the time. "You must hear that now."

"No, I don't," she said. "You must be hearing things. This is what I was talking about -- you need to rest."

"I am not hearing things!" he hissed. The hum was growing louder, making it difficult to concentrate. "Grace -- you --"

Her eyes had taken on such a faraway look as she swayed in place before Oscar. "Rest… you need to rest…"

"Shit!" He knew it! There was a vampire in the guild, somehow, working its vile charms, and the only way that could happen was if one of the hunters was compromised enough to invite them past the wards. "Grace! Snap out of it!"

Life returned to her eyes as Oscar shook her. "What…?"

"There's a vampire in the guild -- exactly as I feared. It's trying to put us under its spell." He drew his silver knife, long and sharp, and tried to block the infernal song from his mind. "Draw your weapon and help me find it."

"I'll help you," she said, still looking unsteady.

"Don't listen to the --"

Grace unexpectedly slammed Oscar up against the wall, nearly knocking the knife from his hand. She'd always been strong, but now she seemed driven by something unnatural. "I'll help you," she repeated in that dazed monotone. "I'll help you rest…"

"Snap out of it!" he said, shoving her away. She'd always been more resilient to enthrallment than any other hunter he knew, and it was terrifying to see her so far under a vampire's spell. The vampire wasn't even here yet, although the song was echoing faintly through the walls. How could she possibly be taken so quickly?

"I'll help you listen…" She regained her footing and lurched towards Oscar. "Help you listen… help you sleep…"

Unless she had been one of the compromised hunters all along.

Oscar cursed under his breath. "Sorry, this is for your own good," he said, pushing her away and slamming the thick door to his office behind him, hands trembling slightly as he grabbed the key from his pocket and locked it tight. He could free Grace from her spell once he'd dealt with the vampire, but right now, she was little more than a liability.

The sight of his trusted lieutenant, utterly and unquestionably hypnotized, kept repeating in his thoughts. That would be him, if he weren't careful, especially with the song growing louder and sweeter.

If only he had his wax earplugs! Thrall could affect you even if you didn't hear it, so it wasn't perfect protection, but it was better than nothing. Without that, he had nothing to rely on but his own willpower. Still, his willpower had allowed him to triumph over many formidable vampires, and he refused to see the guild fall on his watch.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. He was tired already.

Oscar ran down the hall, encountering one of the newest hunters, Rich, slowly sliding down the wall in a half-entranced state. He snapped next to Rich's ear. "Rich! Hey, Rich, you have to fight it! Stay with me."

Rich looked up at Oscar with lidded, drowsy eyes, and let out a huge yawn, one which left Oscar struggling to keep himself from yawning in turn. "Sorry, Captain, I'm just… I've just gotta take a nap first…"

"No, you have to fight the vampire's influence! Stay awake!"

"I have to… I gotta… I gotta sleep, gotta go to sleep…" Rich plopped onto the floor and slumped over, eyes closing.

Oscar had no choice but to leave him behind, too, hoping that he wouldn't get caught by a vampire while he was unconscious. The song was closer and stronger now, and Oscar could feel its seductive pull. He hadn't ever experienced enthrallment quite like it -- a soothing lullaby of deceptive, dangerous power. And he was already so tired.

All he had to do was stay awake, take down this vampire, and save his guild. All he had to do…

In his mind, he was turning the corner and running towards the source of the voice, knife held at the ready, steeling his mind for the fight.

In reality, didn't fully notice how slow and methodical his footsteps were becoming. How he was beginning to slump over. How his eyelids were drooping.

Oscar found his target in the main training hall. He had a young hunter in his arms, gently stroking her hair and rocking her as she succumbed to slumber, pouring his song in her vulnerable ears. June, whose whole family had been killed by a vampire, was peacefully asleep in the arms of one of the most dangerous vampires Oscar had ever seen, a blissful smile on her placid face. Nearby, several hunters lay in heaps on the floor.

He tightened his slackening grip on his silver knife, tried to block the spell from his mind, and prepared to rush at the vampire. But his limbs were already heavy, clumsy. Instead of rushing forward, he found himself taking slow, ponderous steps.

The vampire set June carefully on the floor and turned to Oscar, directing his full power at the seasoned leader of the vampire guild. The urge to close his heavy eyelids was almost overwhelming as the spell of deep sleep and deep submission washed over him.

No… he had to fight. He must. He didn't want to end like this. He didn't want to…

He was sleepwalking towards the vampire, his head bobbing as he struggled to wake up every time he started to doze. The knife slipped from his fingers, forgotten. Cold fingers stroked the side of his face, and he leaned into them, so lost.

He'd always been so, so lost. Always fighting, never resting. Never allowing himself a moment of peace and comfort.

"It's all right, hunter, it's all right," the vampire crooned, as Oscar found himself looking straight into intense, blue eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Mmm." He had to wake up. He had to fight this.

"I'm looking for your guild's leader."

"I'm… that's me. I'm the guild's leader."

A soft but triumphant smile blossomed on the vampire's face. "That's very good. I'm glad to meet you," he said, and Oscar felt warm inside despite himself. "In that case, I'm just going to put you to sleep now, all right? A nice, deep, comfortable sleep where you can listen."

No. No! He had to resist. "All right…" he heard his own voice say, meek and mild.

"Deep, deep sleep. Shut down those tired eyes for me. You can rest now, hunter. Nothing but deep sleep and irresistible comfort."

He was so lost.

The vampire cradled Oscar against his shoulder, and the song flooded his mind utterly. All he could think of now was how good it felt to be allowed to sleep. A comforting hand was rubbing a circle on his back as he started to drift off, his eyelids sealing shut and refusing to open again.

"Good, good hunter. Fast asleep and dreaming," said the vampire. "You just want to protect them, don't you? Your guild, your friends."

"Mmm… I need to protect them…"

"I have someone I want to protect too. A human -- he's the stars and the sunshine to me. You understand."

A long-ago memory of better times flit through Oscar's mind, and then evaporated. "I understand."

"Thank goodness," the vampire said, with what seemed to be deep, genuine relief. "I'm finally, finally, finally going to get what I need, after so long." He held Oscar tight, the vampire actually held him in a soothing embrace, and Oscar couldn't help but lean into it, sinking deeper asleep. The vampire's song began to change, then, still a lullaby, but one of obedience and submission, and Oscar's mind seemed to know exactly how to respond. "What's your name?"

"Oscar…"

"Oscar, sir."

"Oscar, sir." The manner of a thrall. He was merely a thrall, now. He always knew, deep down inside, that he would end up like this someday. How many times had he looked into the eyes of a poor, ensorcelled man and wondered if that might have been him?

"Very good, Oscar. Nice and obedient. I'm Alexander. I just want to ask you a few questions now, and you're going to answer them so easily and truthfully, dropping deeper into trance for me."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, I have sixteen of your hunters, plus you and two more tonight -- nineteen so far."

Oscar's breath caught. Nineteen! They didn't stand a chance.

"How many more are there in the guild?"

"Twenty-seven in total, sir," he reported dutifully. "And occasionally some freelancers. We've always been too short-staffed for this city."

Alexander chuckled. "That's what I always suspected, but I didn't realize it was quite that few. Not enough humans willing to throw their lives away on a pointless cause, I suppose."

Even under this heavy spell, Oscar couldn't help but bristle. "Pointless, sir?"

"No, no, forget I said that. Back asleep, Oscar, back to sleep and dreams and answering all of my questions." Alexander hummed into Oscar's ear, and his momentary offense disappeared. "Twenty-seven will have to be enough. Which out of your guild is most resistant to vampiric influence?"

"Grace, sir."

"Grace. Yes, I suppose I could have guessed that myself. She shot me, you know, before I took her mind. You should be proud."

Oscar's smile at hearing how Grace fought turned sour. "You took her mind, sir."

"Yes."

"Please spare her life, sir. If you must feed, you can feed on me, but spare her life. She has a daughter."

"You needn't fear that. I'm not going to kill her or feed from her -- and that goes for you all."

"Sir…?" Oscar couldn't fathom what else a vampire would do with an enthralled hunter apart from feed and kill.

"I only need you to do what you're best at, killing a vampire. Do that, and I'll wipe the memory and let you go." His song drove his words home, convincing Oscar's sleeping mind to obey, to give the vampire what he needs. "You're going to help me capture the rest of your guild, easily and without bloodshed, and you're going to help me formulate a plan to destroy a very ancient and dangerous vampire. Do this for me, succeed in killing my sire, and you and your guild will walk free. You want to protect your guild, don't you?"

"I want to protect my guild, sir…"

A vision flashed through his head of the hunters crumpled on the floor, of June sinking into enchanted sleep, of Grace's haunted eyes. Of himself, so docile in the arms of a vampire. He hadn't protected them, had he?

That unpleasant thought was washed away as Alexander continued to speak.

----

Lex was exhausted by the time he arrived back at the manor, but his exhaustion was mixed with relief at having actually succeeded. If this had gone wrong, it could've easily been his last night on Earth -- but instead, he had managed to enthrall an entire hunter's guild.

Would even that be enough?

"Lex!" Fitz came running out of the music room and into the foyer as soon as Lex was in the door. His eyes swept over Lex. "I don't see any crossbow bolts or silver knives sticking from you -- was your mission a success?"

Lex felt himself breaking into a smile. "It went as well as it possibly could have. I'm now in control of the vampire hunter's guild."

In an instant, Fitz was pressing against him so hard that he stumbled backwards into the door, soft warm lips meeting his. He was so warm, and his hair was so soft…

"Now you'll be able to take care of your sire, right?" said Fitz eagerly.

"Soon. I have more preparation to do. I have to enforce their enthrallment, especially the ones I only caught tonight, and I have to assist with formulating the plan. I need to tell them everything I know about my sire and his manor, to give them the best chance of success."

Anxiety bubbled within him as he looked down at Fitz's adoring grin. If he failed here, it wouldn't just be his own wellbeing on the line. He could take his sire's punishments. But he couldn't stand to see Fitz's happiness crushed, his joy turned to despair, his light gone forever.

"I have my first comeback performance in a few days, remember?" said Fitz. "I'll be back on the stage, you'll get rid of your sire… we'll both be free."

"Free," Lex repeated.

Fitz wasn't free, not really, but…

Without his sire's curse…

It was something he rarely dared to dream about. With his sire gone, he and Fitz could do as they pleased for the rest of their lives. They could leave this city and travel the world. He could help Fitz become a major success, see his name in lights like he deserved. He could collect books in peace, play music without his sire's voice echoing in his mind. He could love Fitz properly, give him everything he wanted and needed. No one would hurt either of them, not ever again.

He couldn't fail here. It simply wasn't an option.

"Yes. We're going to be free."

Fitz wrapped one hand around his waist and took his other hand, and began leading him around the foyer in a lively dance to imaginary music.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

Next week, a young Lex meets his new music teacher.

For more mind control fun, consider reading my side story for Augusnippets, Human Resistance. It's about a ragged band of humans trying to keep their autonomy in the face of an unstoppable alien threat.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

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@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

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@pokemaniacgemini @jumpywhumpywriter @basica11ywhumped @anoontjecanush

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter fourteen: stuck forever by the glue

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 7.4k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), feeling familial and self-pressure, established relationship, spanish cause joel is latino, soft joel, very minimal like sweetie possessive joel, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, this is honestly just an ooey gooey syrupy sweet chapter y'all

a/n: this is so wild. it's done! (basically....epilogue to come) i seriously can't express how much it means to me that y'all read and kept up with and cared about my little story. i have fallen in love with writing and i just really thank you all for everything you've given me! i feel so lucky to have so many incredible, talented, all-star humans reading something silly i've made. THANK YOU.

and an extra special thanks to el @northernbluess who has been such a big support throughout my process of writing this story. she's beta-read nearly every single chapter and has helped me so much in developing the characters and the story and just everything. can't write without you, el. love you!

alright, enough from me - enjoy joel & mariposa's ending! and please drop any thoughts or scenarios or milestones you want to see for them in the epilogue into my inbox!!!

“Fuck, oh shit, Joel!”

You’re whisper-yelling as you scramble to throw his comforter off of you, kicking it away from your feet and jumping out of bed. One arm moves up to cover your chest as you whirl around the room looking for your clothes. As you slip your panties up your legs and let them snap against your hips, Joel stirs awake enough to pick his head up, glancing around in a daze.

“What is happening? What’s wrong?” he groggily asks, turning over from lying on his tummy to his back, arm bending to rest against his forehead and shielding his eyes from the early summer morning light peeking through the curtains.

Puffing out a breath to blow the hair from your face, hands occupied with attempting to clasp your bra behind your back, you shoot him a look.

“Check the time,” you order flatly, nodding your chin to his alarm clock at the bedside.

After a delayed beat, Joel’s head turns, studying the display before his bed shoots back to look at you, arm dropped from his head. With his eyebrows raised and mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, he chuckles quietly at your distress.

Amid your activities from the night before, much like the last week of nights spent with Joel, the alarm on his side had forgotten to be set. Normally, you would brush it off, so long as the two of you were up in time for work, which Sarah usually made sure of thanks to her promptness, even as a ten-year-old.

But today, no, today was a weekend and also the day of the neighborhood’s annual block party and summer barbecue. And you had promised — assured — your mother that you would be up and at ‘em early to help her prep all the food she promised to make and to help decorate the street and all the tables.

Joel had promised — assured — that he set the alarm last night before the two of you started fooling around, distraction imminent for the man with his wandering hands and blood pumping. Turns out, you were apparently too tempting, and too exhausting, of a time to focus on anything else.

“Darlin’, it’ll be fine. Doubt your mom has even noticed your absence, she’s probably so busy already she’s just fluttering around your house.” Joel’s face returns to a drowsy expression, one eyebrow quirking up for a moment as you angrily groan at your t-shirt when struggling to find the head hole with it pulled over your head all lopsided.

He rises from the bed, padding over to you and reaching up to pause your frantic hands. Slow moving, he rights the material and gently tugs it down, revealing your frustrating and pouty look.

Joel coaxes your arms out of their stubborn crossed position over your chest, aiding them into the holes and fully pulling the t-shirt down. Fingers graze the top of your panties from underneath your cotton shirt, satisfied smirk when he feels goosebumps rise.

“She may not notice, but my Dad, who’s probably doing nothing, will notice and tell my mom. And she’ll tell him to go downstairs and check on me.” You swat his hands away gently, stepping backward and turning your head this way and that way to find your shorts. “And if he goes downstairs, and I’m not there, but then magically appear minutes later from my studio, well, I think they’ll clock that something’s up.”

Thick arms wrap around your waist, freezing you in place. One hand gently grips the tip of your chin between his index and thumb, tilting your head to look into his eyes.

“It’ll be fine, Mari baby. You’ll get home and you’ll go upstairs and they won’t even know you were gone for a second.” Joel punctuates his reassurances with a kiss, rubbing slow circles in your lower back.

“You are extremely calm in this situation. Why aren’t you more stressed out than me?” you interrogate, raising one brow and pursing your lips. He chuckles and shrugs, incredibly nonchalant, before pecking your lips once more.

“S’cause I woke up with you next to me.” The grin is evident in his next kiss, pulling one from you no matter how much you fight it. “Plus, had some pretty great sex last night.”

“Oh my god, okay, I’m leaving. Such an idiot—” you smack his arm playfully and untangle from his arms, “ruining a perfectly sweet, wholesome moment.”

“Didn’t ruin anything. Y’know you were thinkin’ the same thing,” he counters as he throws on boxers, following you out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

You glance over your shoulder, shooting him an eye roll while biting back a smile. Padding quickly into the kitchen, you slip your shoes on from where they sit next to the back door, turning toward Joel in a rush as he strides over to you. Still sleepy eyes take you in, grabby hands finding your waist and pulling you in tight to his chest while you groan.

“J, baby, I gotta go.” He buries his head in your neck, shaking it enough for his messy curls to brush against your skin in a tickle. “I’ll see you later, okay? We jus’ have to make it through the party, and then I’m all yours. Deal?”

Lifting his head with an elongated sigh, he nods subtly and sneaks a quick kiss, “Deal. But I kind of don’t want to share you with the whole neighborhood tonight. Wish it was jus’ you and me.”

“Me too, baby, but we’ll survive. We’ve made it this long, haven’t we?” Fingers glide through his hair, pushing it up off his forehead. Before you step back and reach for the door, he pulls you in again, one hand finding your jaw to hold you there as he gives you a slow, syrupy, toe-curling kiss. The linger of it tickles your lips when he pulls away, a drowsy, beaming smile filling his face.

“Love you, Mari baby. See you later.”

“Love you more, J. See y’all later.” One last effort breaks you free of him, slipping out the door with him still on your tail, large palm making contact with your ass in a smack. A look back at him gives you a wink and smirk in return, Joel’s wide frame filling the threshold as you descend his deck stairs and scurry across your lawn to make it home in time.

God, you’re too old to be sneaking around with your boyfriend.

But damn, if he doesn’t make it fun.

Late afternoon, when the sticky, humid air has cooled down only fractions from the peak of the day, the whole onslaught of the neighborhood gathers on your cul-de-sac. Lawn games litter front yards of everyone around, the food tables set up between your driveway and Joel’s. Two grills are lit and manned on the asphalt in front of your garage, barely enough space to cook all the food that could feed an entire army, plus all of your neighbors.

The skirt of your baby blue sundress swishes against your thighs as you flutter around the folding tables set out to frame the street. Borrowed, mismatched tablecloths have been blanketed over the surfaces, and it’s been your latest task to arrange simple centerpieces of wildflowers from your garden beds built by Joel, and vases pulled from the backs of cabinets in your house. With every inch of your movement, your eyes flicker to track Joel’s, licking your lips as you watch the fabric of his muted blue t-shirt pull and strain across his shoulder blades. The hair at the back of his neck curled more from the perspiration that he was building while carrying coolers full of ice, beer, sodas, and water all about the street.

While putting the finishing touches on the last centerpiece, it seems that when you look up again, the whole neighborhood has shown up all at once. Joel’s gone from your line of sight, and you resign to finding the nearest cold beer and being pulled into a conversation with Mrs. Clarke and some of her book club ladies from the street over that you don’t know as well. They fuss over you, admiring your dress and your hair, and commenting repeatedly about ‘how gorgeous and youthful’ you are. As you open your mouth to accept the compliments again with a polite ‘thank you’, a familiar voice cuts in from over your shoulder.

“Excuse me, ladies, I hate to interrupt y’all but I was hoping to steal her away for a bit. Kind of need a partner for some cornhole and we’ve got a winning streak to maintain.” Joel shoots all of the older women a charming grin when you turn to your side to see him, his eyes finding yours for a split second.

“Oh, god, another one of you youngin’ neighbors! I have been loving to see so many new folks move in and all you kids that have returned. It is so lovely,” Mrs. Clarke shares, nodding her head with a mischievous grin toward Joel, “Y’know, y’all are pretty handsome together. Maybe it’s just 'cause y’all are young and beautiful still!”

Mrs. Clarke and the other women laugh, a wide smile on your face as you shake your head, “C’mon, Mrs. Clarke, you’re beautiful — Joel’s actually been tellin’ me he’s got a crush on a neighbor, my bets are on you.”

She laughs again, waving off the compliments, “Well I wouldn’t go gambling if that’s how you bet, sugar. I think you’d be at the top of all the lists if you ask everyone here; you’ve been the talk of the neighborhood since you came back from that big ol’ city you were in. Everybody’s been saying how you are still such a sweet girl, but I can tell something’s different. In a good way.”

She shoots you a wink and you soak in the sentiments, looking over to Joel when he cuts in again.

“I think I’d agree with ya, ma’am. Definitely different in a good way. Like whiskey in a teacup.” The look in his eyes is filled with the silent affection that his words coil around, saying all that he can’t say at the moment. Instead, he wraps up the conversation for you, thanking the four women before letting you step ahead of him, his hand barely ghosting over your back in what would look to be an innocent gesture.

“Now did you really want to play bags or was that just an excuse?” you tease, taking a sip of your drink while you two wander over to the game set up in the grass.

Joel shrugs, smile toying at his lips, “Had to be able to find a way to sweet talk my crush now, didn’t I?”

A roll of your eyes and growing smirk encourages him, nudging your side with his elbow, “Y’think Mrs. Clarke is gonna go around gossipin’ about us when the whole neighborhood finds out I’ve got a crush on you and not her?”

“Oh definitely. Lived here my whole life, that woman knows everybody’s business before they know it themselves. Don’t be surprised if she’s told everybody you’re in love with me by the time this evening’s wrappin’ up.” Squatting down, Joel gathers up the bean bags from the surface of the handbuilt gameboards, handing you the green while he takes the yellow.

As he deposits them one by one in your open palm, he shoots you a genuine, shy smile. “Well, wouldn’t be a lie so I guess it would jus’ help me out. Maybe we should tell Mrs. Clarke and then everybody will know tonight.”

“Haha. Very funny, Miller,” you reply dryly, shooting him a playfully annoyed look before starting the game between the two of you.

The back-and-forth flows easily for the two of you, both in gameplay and banter. At the game-point throw, you sink it in the hole, cheering for yourself when you nail the score of exactly twenty-one. Joel tosses his own, flicking his wrist only slightly at the last moment to scratch the throw, leaving you victorious. He smiles to himself as he watches you eagerly clap for yourself, turning to him and nodding toward the spread of food that was finally laid out.

You’re so beautiful.

The look you’re giving him sends a jolt into his spine, fuzzing his brain while the butterfly in his chest rapidly pumps its wings.

“C’mon, let's eat. All that losin’ probably worked up an appetite for you.” Without clasping around his, your hand brushes your fingers against the back of his palm. The softness leaves an itch on his skin, his nerves simply jumping for the chance to touch you. You lead confidently while he trails behind in your wake, observing as everyone sends you a smile or a greeting that you return right back with a glow.

He’d follow you anywhere.

And he knows how damn lucky he is that you’re willing to let him.

It’s what he can’t help but continue to think about as the night rolls on, watching you from his place at a table with a handful of the guys from the neighborhood, including your dad and brother, and Tommy, who stopped over after his own plans for the evening went belly up. While he nurses the beer from the glass bottle in his hand, you are bouncing with a baby on your hip to the beat of the song playing over the speakers. It’s the kid you nanny, having taken her from her parents to let them eat and enjoy a moment of calmness with everyone while you keep the young one entertained.

The happy baby babbles in your arms as you dance with her subtly, standing in a small group of other neighbors. It’s so natural for you, the way you’re nurturing and easily adapting to having a little human attached to your side. He can’t shake the way his body is begging him to get up and go over to you, wanting to help you, to play pretend for a moment that it’s an addition to your little family in your arms.

He nearly stumbles over himself to get out of his seat when Sarah pulls you away from the group, thanking his daughter inside his head for giving him the perfect excuse to be close to you in the moment. Tommy chuckles to himself when he follows where Joel’s gaze is aimed, shaking his head subtly at his older brother’s obvious stare.

Joel doesn’t pay him any mind as he walks over toward you and Sarah, brushing against your side as he folds forward at his waist to press a kiss to the top of his daughter’s curly hair. The baby is babbling again in your arms, wiggling and mouthing on her hand while she stares at Joel. He shoots her a smile, opening and closing his fingers in a loose fist to wave.

“Hey there, little one. Now who’s this?” he asks, eyes finding your face while you grin at the happy baby girl in your arms.

“This is Amelia. She’s Brian and Steph’s daughter, the one I’ve been nannying this summer since Steph’s gone back to work,” you adjust her again and Joel nods, reaching out absentmindedly to lay a hand on Sarah’s head.

“Isn’t she so cute, Daddy?” Sarah laughs quietly when Amelia squeals excitedly. Her hand tugs on Joel’s shirt to grab his attention back from staring at you, eyebrows raised, and the same look on her face that she gets when she desperately wants a toy from the store. “I want to get a baby!”

He nearly chokes on his breath when he rushes to respond, hearing your quiet giggle as he coughs before clearing his throat. Addressing Sarah, he gives her an understanding smile, “Babies are pretty cute, aren’t they? But you’ll need to be much, much older until you can get a baby, mija. Like you’ll need to be Posey’s age or even better, you can be Daddy’s age and get a baby for yourself, alright?”

“That’s not very fun. You’re old, I don’t wanna wait that long. It’s like an eternity,” she replies bluntly, causing you to laugh and Joel to shoot you a warning look before he returns to Sarah.

“Trust me, Bug, it’s not that long in the grand scheme of things. Before I know it, you’ll be out of my house and I’ll be even more ancient, apparently, and you’ll have your own babies. All in due time, mija. Don’t wish away your life.” He pats her curls while she stands, thought clearly turning in her head.

A lightbulb goes off and she gasps, clapping her hands together as she says only to the two of you, “I know! You can get another baby, Daddy, and then I’ll have a cute one to play with. You can get one with Posey.”

Sarah beams with what seems like a completely genius idea to her, waiting for a response or a plan of action to get this all set in motion for her. You laugh again, stepping in when Joel can’t seem to find the right words to say.

He doesn’t want to outwardly deny it. Definitely doesn’t want you to think that is something he wouldn’t want. He’s told you as much.

But he also doesn’t want to step in any hot water, doesn’t want to put his foot in his mouth if it really is something you haven’t thought about much.

“That is such a smart idea, Sare-Bear,” you grin comfortingly and reach out a free hand to brush her hair back, “Y’know who else you could ask to have a baby? Uncle Tommy. Why don’t you go ask him why he doesn’t have a girlfriend so that he can give you a cousin?”

Sarah giggles and matches your mischievous energy, scampering off to go wholesomely harass her uncle. You turn to Joel, your face twisting into curiosity when you can’t read the look on his face.

“What? Should I have explained where babies come from to her or something instead? Was it a bad idea to sick her on Tommy?”

“No, not at all. To answer both your questions,” he bites back from absolutely beaming, turning his gaze to baby Amelia’s chubby cheeks when his voice drops to a level only audible to you standing inches from him, “Would you?”

“Would I what?” Your head tilts to the side, adjusting Amelia on your hip and hiking her up. Joel opens his mouth to clarify his question when Steph sidles up next to you, thanking you profusely while she takes her daughter back into her arms. The interaction warms Joel’s blood in his veins, the wings of the butterfly pushing the rattle of nerves into his throat.

Everyone loves you so much here, and you really do have love for everyone.

A fucking solid gold heart inside of you and Joel can’t believe you’ve given even a piece, a sliver, of it to him to safeguard.

Turning your attention back to him when the two of you are left alone, you lift the corner of your lip up in an anxious comfort, “So, would I what?”

“Would you have a kid? With me. Would you have a kid with me?” It all rushes out, words blending together but you understand all the same. A quiet laugh rolls from your chest, skyrocketing his worry in the moment before you shake your head and give his bicep a quick, but reassuring squeeze.

“Course I would, J. Don’t think anything would make me happier.” Your eyes sparkle in the setting sunlight, the solid and steady beat of his heart surely heard over the music and noise by everyone around you both. Pressing his lips together to restrain himself, he nods slowly and attempts to remain casual.

“I wanna kiss you so fucking much right now, Mari.”

“I want that, too. But I think Mrs. Clarke would be jealous. Stealin’ you away from her.” The joke breaks the tension, sending him into a small fit of laughter, shaking his head at your ridiculousness.

“Guess I better go ask Mrs. Clarke the same question then, huh? Keep my options open.”

“Better go. Give her enough time to tell Mr. Clarke she’s running away with the neighbor forty years younger than her.”

“Definitely think that’d go over better than you, the beloved, sweet neighborhood girl, running away with me.”

“Oh hush, doesn’t matter how well it’d go over. Jus’ matters if we can run fast enough away from the angry mob that’s gonna come after ya.” You wink and laugh again, your head shaking back and forth before it whips in the direction of your mom calling your name. Another soft and subtle touch is fleetingly felt against his skin, turning over your shoulder to mouth a quick ‘love you’ to him as you walk away.

He returns it before searching around to fill his hands before returning back to the table and sitting down next to his brother. Joel sets the full beer bottle next to his half-full one, eyes still trained on you before Tommy grabs his attention with a hard jab to his side and snags the full beer.

“So why the hell is my niece asking me when I’m gonna get a girlfriend so I can have a baby?”

Night has overtaken the sky, with sprinklings of stars and a waxing moon as its centerpieces. Everyone along the road has turned on their porch lights, extra portable camping lights, and hanging lanterns brought out to make enough light to continue the party. The handful of neighborhood kids run around to catch fireflies while the adults either stand around in conversations or gather in the open space between all of the tables to dance. Your parents, ever the hosts that they are, have popped back into the house to gather more drinks and desserts for everyone. Wrapped up in a chat about a potential hire for a job with a guy from a few streets over, Joel hasn’t paid mind to where you’re at or if Sarah’s running along with the other kids. He shakes the man’s hand and promises to stop by when he can during the week to check out exactly what the job would entail and if his guys can get it done.

Turning away, the sight of you is perfectly framed by warm lights, a tunnel of everything else fading away while he observes you from across the street. The mop of curls he loves dearly bounces around with you, your hands holding Sarah’s and spinning her around the dancefloor. His daughter’s laughter hits his ears over the sound of the music, tugging a smile onto his face that nearly matches your beaming grin.

This whole night, he hasn’t been able to stay away from you long. And he hasn’t been able to shake the feeling of how desperate he is to stay in your pull, to be able to make you smile and laugh, to make you happy.

You do so much for others, offering a hand or making them smile with your genuine care and humor. Everyone is so drawn to you, he’s not the only one who wants to have you around. And he knows about what you’re going through behind closed doors, the things you tell him about when no one else will listen or understand. The same things he heard from you when you were thousands of miles away, voice crackling over the phone. All he wants to do is to be there for you, to show you the same kindness that you show him, that you show everyone you encounter.

Ever since he met you, he’s never wanted to be apart from you. But he didn’t trust himself not to make selfish decisions, so he pushed you away that first summer, and let you go the second. Now, with no endings in sight at the end of summer, anything is possible.

One thing’s for sure though — he’s tired of hiding.

All it does is take up more energy that he could be giving to you, to Sarah, to a better future for all of you.

And fuck’s sake, if he doesn’t want everyone to know that you chose him. The best person he knows — has ever known — chose him and continues to choose him, to forgive him, to love him. He doesn’t know what the future holds, doesn’t know what everything will look like for y’all in a week, in a year, in a decade, but all he can say is that whatever it all entails, however much it scares him, he wants you there by his side. He needs you.

Without a second thought, he moves toward you as the song changes, depositing his nearly empty drink on the nearest table. Swiping his clammy hands on his jeans as he walks, he takes a deep breath before he taps you on the shoulder. He shoots Sarah a wink over your shoulder while you turn around, her giggle bringing a lopsided grin to his face.

“Oh, Joel, what’s up?” you ask casually, cocking an eyebrow up in confusion.

He addresses Sarah in the next moment, putting on a formal tone and clearing his throat, “Excuse me, Miss Sarah, but would you mind if I steal Mariposa away for a dance?”

“Of course not, Daddy!” she grins widely, showing off her missing tooth that came out a few nights ago, “Have fun, Posey!”

Sarah scurries off to find her friends from the neighborhood, and Joel holds his hand out with a soft smirk. Utterly puzzled, you glance around before focusing back on Joel at the sound of his voice.

“May I have this dance, Mari?”

You’re surprised, stumbling out a response as you tentatively place your hand in his, “Yes, I mean — yes, but — What are you doing, J?”

With your hand in his, he leads you further into the couples dancing along to the sweetly slow love song playing. In the middle, he stops and faces you, keeping your hand in his, holding them up close with a bent elbow while his other finds your waist and pulls you in closer. The two of you start to sway and Joel’s lips settle next to your ear while you dance.

“Joel, everyone’s staring…and talking amongst themselves. What are you doing?” you ask in a hushed voice, pulling away to look into his eyes. Anxiety flashes in yours and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before replying.

“M’letting go, mi amor. Let ‘em stare,” he replies, the corners of his lips rising in a tender grin. He slips his hand from yours, fingers trailing down your arm to bring it to rest on his shoulder like your other one. Both of his hands spread across your hips, pressing into the fabric of your dress and pushing around to settle at your lower back.

“But they’re gonna start spreading shit and I know you weren’t ready before to tell anyone else — my parents might be around, J. I don’t want you to do this if you aren’t ready, or if you’re just doing this for me.”

He leans closer, tilting his head down to lay his forehead against yours. Holding your eyes, he speaks quietly, voice rasping with the strain of the volume and the emotion coating his words, “El amor es ciego, pero los vecinos no. (Love is blind, but the neighbors aren’t.) There’s always going to be people to gossip, or to whisper about us. All that matters to me is what you think, and how you feel. I want to be able to tell everyone that you’re mine, and I’m yours. I’m so lucky, and I am so proud to be your partner in life, Mari baby. M’tired of trying to predict what the future’s gonna be for us, and m’tired of trying to keep the reality of life away from us. Truth is, I don’t think there’s anything that life could throw at me or you that we couldn’t get through together. I need you there, always, sweet girl. Todo va a salir bien. Everything will work out.”

“I-God, I don’t even know what to say…” Tears well at your waterline, none daring to fall over the edge while you attempt to remain composed for the crowd that is surely watching everything happening. “All I can think about is how much I love you, Joel. And I want all of the same things, and I know that with you, we can handle whatever life has planned for us.”

“I love you too, baby. Te amo siempre, mi Mariposa. (I love you always, my Mariposa).”

The song’s last few notes fade out, some of the couples filtering out of the dance floor when the music changes over. After another short peck from Joel, the bubble the two of you were in dissolves when Sarah runs up, asking Joel if she can have another cookie. He gives her the quick go-ahead, watching her rush off as quickly as she came, and suddenly you’re reminded you’re in the middle of the whole neighborhood.

No one says anything as you lead Joel away, hand-in-hand. But a few looks are exchanged and the eyes of everyone feel hot on your neck. A glance around proves your parents aren’t outside still, and your stomach flips with the real possibility that someone, particularly nosey neighbors, may have beaten you to the punch in terms of telling them about you and Joel.

Tugging him from a good few steps ahead, Joel widens his strides to catch up easily as you beeline toward your garage, the mechanical door wide open for people to come and go as needed. You stop in your tracks right in front of the door to the inside, taking a deep breath before turning around to face Joel.

“Alright, it’s now or never, J. Either we’re the ones to tell our parents, or they find out from Mrs. Clarke’s book club that we were on the dancefloor and kissin’ each other and—”

Joel interrupts your ramblings with a gentle chuckle, tilting his head to the side as he looks over your face before locking his eyes with yours.

“So are we the ones meant to be saying we were on the dancefloor and kissin’ each other?” he asks with a smirk, one eyebrow raising in question.

“Oh, c’mon, Joel.”

“M’kiddin’, Mari. It’s now or never, and I am not a man that says never. So lead the way, sweet girl.” He gestures to the door behind you, a genuine smile on his face quelling your heightened nerves.

If you could read his mind, you know he’s freaking out right now.

But no, instead he’s keeping it cool on the outside, trying to be a calming presence for your own anxious thoughts.

Can’t help but ask himself questions. What if your parents get upset or angry? What if they dismiss it, not believing that it would ever work between the two of them? What if they take it out on you? It’s not your fault that they didn’t find out earlier — would they hate him if he defends you in an argument? What if they don’t think he is good enough for you?

He has his own doubts, but hearing it from your parents would crush him.

You walk ahead of him, holding onto his hand while you walk inside and through your empty living room. He drops his hand from yours right on the threshold of your kitchen and gives you a tight smile when you look back at him. Wiping his clammy hands on his jeans, he takes a deep breath before following you into the room.

Clearing your throat to grab your parents' attention, you saddle up to the island and lean forward with your elbows on the cool countertops. Joel stands next to you, a respectable distance away but you feel the itch to bring him closer. Your dad turns around first, pausing his task of filling a cooler with ice from the freezer.

“Hey there, kiddo. Oh, and heya, Miller! Y’all havin’ a good time tonight? Need anything?”

“Or are y’all bein’ sweethearts and have come inside to help us with all this?” Your mom nods over her shoulder to the rest of the desserts plated across the counters.

She turns around next after washing her hands at the kitchen sink, patting them dry with a towel before she crosses the small walkway to settle on the other side of the island. Joel shakes his head when you’re silent for a moment, giving both of your parents a smile.

“No, don’t need anything. And I would be happy to help, ma’am—” Joel ever so politely offers before you interrupt him.

“I, uh, I actually wanted to talk to y’all about something.” Your voice wavers only slightly, a stuttering sound coming from your throat as you clear it again. One of your mom’s eyebrows raises in curiosity, much more sprawling thoughts happening in the subtle twitches of her eyes as she looks at your face, then at Joel’s, and back to you.

Your dad is a bit oblivious.

“Joel and I will leave ya to it, y’all can fill me in later,” he faces Joel, nodding toward the direction of the door and closing the top of the cooler he packed full of ice a minute ago. Joel opens his mouth to respond when you fill in again quickly, holding a hand up to stop your dad’s movements.

“No, um, actually, it’s better if you’re both here and Joel’s here ‘cause, well…” A flip of your stomach nearly sends your dinner back up, but you swallow it down and lock your eyes on your hands as you finally spill the secret you’ve kept for the last three summers.

“Joel and I are together. Like in a relationship. A serious one.” You kept adding clarifications to fill the silence that’s fallen over the room, and Joel steps closer, reaching a hand up to rest on your back between your shoulder blades. He braces for ridicule, eyes trained on you as you keep yours on your hands.

Nothing. Your parents are saying nothing.

And you cannot take the silence anymore, so you begin to recount it all from the first summer, meeting him and getting to know him — sparing the details of the two of you…getting together. The short month-long second summer, Joel holding out his hope for you to stay but eventually letting you go. The year between that time and the beginning of this summer, infrequent phone calls and life updates. And finally, this summer, when you came back with no end in sight and nothing holding the two of you back. Given the chance to finally give it a proper go, and falling even more in love with him than you thought you could love anyone.

Your eyes flick to Joel’s as you confess that, and he returns the sentiment with a warm smile and his hand rubbing slow circles against the bare skin of your back exposed by your thinly-strapped dress. 

God, you really do love him.

So much so, it occurs to you that it doesn’t really matter what comes after this. You choose him, and he’s chosen you, and your family would have to accept it. You’ve spent too much time without him in your life, completely, and there isn’t going to be another summer ending in heartbreak.

At the end of your three-summer abridged summary, Joel turns toward your parents, speaking up for himself. “I just—I want to tell you both that I care very much about your daughter. I love her dearly, and my life’s gotten astronomically better since she stepped into it. Mine and Sarah’s. You’ve raised an incredible woman, someone who is kind but never lets anyone push her around. A complete force.” Joel turns back to you, a growing, shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I can only hope that Sarah gets the same fierceness and is as self-willed as you. I’ve said it before, but you’ve got a golden heart. You’re magic.”

The four of you talk it through, fielding their questions and small concerns as best as you can to reassure them. They share a look before your mom speaks, taking a deep breath that lifts and drops her shoulders.

“We can’t say that it’s not going to be an adjustment. I mean, dropping this all on us after not telling us for so long is a lot to process—”

“Of course, of course. I should’ve said something earlier, I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. I just…Did you feel like you couldn’t talk to us about it or something, sweetie?” There’s a thickness in your mom’s voice, one that makes your chest ache.

“Oh, mom, no. It wasn’t like that, I—”

“I was the nervous one. I asked for more time before we told you this summer. I know how extraordinary your daughter is; she is definitely too good for me, and I was real nervous that you wouldn’t approve. I mean, I definitely have a different life than probably what you pictured. But I want to promise you both that I am proving myself every day to her. I always want to be better.”

To your surprise, your dad cuts in before you or your mom can say anything.

“You’re right. Our daughter is extraordinary…” He paused, continuing, “But you’re a good man, Joel. Trustworthy, dependable, respectful. And you very clearly love our daughter. There’s nothing more I could ask of someone for her. So long as she has a good, happy life, I’m content.”

Joel exchanges a relieved smile with your dad, your focus on your mom again as one arm snakes around Joel’s back to hold you closer.

“Your dad said it. If you’re happy, honey, then we’re happy…” She studies the two of you with tender care in her eyes, holding her hands to her chest before releasing them with a content sigh. “And I mean, I knew.”

Immediately, your brow furrows with confusion and Joel laughs, holding it back when you shoot him a warning look. Returning to your mom, you raise a question in response, “I’m sorry, you knew? How did you know?”

“Well, nothing was ever confirmed. But I did mention to your father quite a few times how I caught you sneaking glances and smiles toward Joel.” She directs the next question to your dad, whose focus has been lost on the plate of desserts in front of him, “And, how often did I mention to you catching Joel looking at her like all of the sunlight was radiating from her? Like he was completely head over heels.”

“Oh, all the time,” your dad answers nonchalantly. You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief, Joel’s laughter bubbling over while he tugs you into his side and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“To be honest, I thought maybe he was just in love with you and you were either oblivious or waiting for him to say something. Glad to hear that I was right!” she jests, laughing to herself and exhaling dramatically.

“So does this mean I can get my renovations done with a discount?” Your dad tilts his head up to look directly at Joel who holds a hand up in oath.

“Free labor from me always, sir. Can’t promise the discount for Tommy’s help, though.”

“Oh god, Dad, seriously?” you groan, rolling your head back while Joel looks on with a smile.

‘What? What’s wrong with asking that, kiddo?” Once again oblivious, your mom waves him off to drag the cooler of drinks outside. When he’s gone from the kitchen, she rounds the island, beaming with a grin.

“Well, I just can’t wait to already live next to my grandbabies! Don’t even need to move to be any closer, unless we move in with y’all into somewhere bigger—”

“Alright, Mom, I think the party’s probably missin’ these desserts, yeah?” You usher her by handing her a tray. She gives you a motherly eye roll before resigning her thoughts and taking the plate.

“Fine, fine, I’m going!” She shuffles in her sandals before glancing back at the edge of the threshold, “We really are happy for y’all.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Oh, Joel, c’mon. You’re part of the family now, call me Jen. And you can call her dad Mark, even if he gives you shit for it, he’s just trying to make you nervous. And then tell me, I’ll give him shit right back.”

At the click of the door shutting behind your parents, you face him and grin ecstatically, clasping your hands together. Joel’s shoulders relax with a sigh and your arms hook around his neck. He scoops you up in a hug, laughing when you shriek excitedly. Spinning the two of you around in a small circle, he settles still again, eyes locking with yours as a wide smile replaces his once apprehensive expression.

Joel nudges your nose with his, slow, warm breaths exchanged in the closeness before he kisses you. Slow, delicate, light melting into fervor — hot and heavy with all your love for each other.

Breathless, you pull away and he chases your lips for a chaste kiss, pressing his forehead against yours while you both start to laugh quietly.

“What a summer, huh?” you ask, another fit of laughter leaving your mouth.

“Definitely was a fun summer, sweetheart. And the last two, too.” Joel shakes his head, thumb brushing your cheek as he grins back at you, “Can’t wait to have all my summers with you, Mariposa.”

An ache is felt in your cheeks from smiling, but the dull pain pales in comparison to the all-over lightness; adrenaline and excitement make you feel as if you’re buzzing head to toe. Stealing another kiss from Joel, you feel him grin against your lips. Breathy chuckles fill the space between you when you pull away, tilting your head back in his hand to see more of his face.

“Wanna dance, J?”

“With you? Anytime, Mari baby. Lead the way.” He nods toward the door, taking your hand and following you closely as you head back to the party. Coming back out, all the eyes and whispers aren’t feeling like heat against your skin, instead the warmth of Joel’s palm grounds you and sends a shiver down your spine. He takes the lead in the moment, stepping ahead when you falter for a second and pulling you to the middle of the asphalt-turned-dancefloor.

The ever-so-familiar piano trills, along with the bright, smooth voice of Don McLean start to play out on the speakers, bringing wide smiles to both of your faces. As the beat picks up, Joel starts singing along, taking your hands from his shoulders and spinning you around as if you were swing dancing.

Both of you were clumsy, tripping over each other, but your laughter only brought brilliant, broad grins to your faces. The rest of the party fell away — it was only you and Joel, and all the memories that this song brought back.

The skirt of your dress kicks up as he spins you around and around, pulling you into his chest and swaying with you for the entire song, his deep and drawling voice singing along to the lyrics and sending goosebumps spreading across your skin despite the humid, sticky heat of the night. His steps slow down at the end, turning you both in one final, exaggerated circle before settling on the last note.

Joel looks down at you, adoration glinting in his eyes and his dimple showing as his mouth holds his smile. One of your hands slips away from his, reaching up to skim your fingers along his patchy beard and rest at the side of his neck. With another song turning over on the speakers, Joel leans down and catches your lips in a supple kiss. It’s slow and saccharine, savoring the taste of you on his tongue before he pulls away, waiting with bated breath.

 You break the moment with a sweet, melodic laugh and a shake of your head. 

“Of course, that song came on. Did you plan all this, Miller?” you interrogate playfully, the world still tunneled between the two of you.

“Absolutely not. But pretty serendipitous, yeah? Guess we should take that as a sign. Right person, right time. Finally.” His response gives you another laugh, nodding before going in for another short kiss.

“Yeah, think it’s safe to say it's the right time, finally. Was always the right person.”

“You can say that again, Mari baby.”

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholic @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @anoverwhelmingdin @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @planet-marz1 @kiwisbell @lizzie-cakes

[readriordan]

Happy Halloween!

A day of ghouls and specters, there isn't a better time to be a chthonic demigod - aka a demigod of the Underworld! So let's check in on some of our favorite chthonic kids and see how they spent their holiday:

Nico di Angelo

"I'm not exactly the most popular kid in Camp Half-Blood most days, but Halloween is different. We didn't really celebrate it back in my day in Italy, but I almost feel obligated now. I mean, I'm king of ghosts, I think that means I win Halloween, right? Anyways, I turned Cabin 13 into a haunted house for the other campers this evening. I've even got skeletons roaming around, and Jules-Albert is giving out candy. Usually people would be screaming about that, but the other campers love it. It's nice to be seen as cool for a change."

Hazel Levesque

"Camp Jupiter is busy during the holidays! Everybody's going trick-or-treating around New Rome. In the legion the cohorts are giving out candy to each other and holding a competition to see who can get the biggest haul. Even the lares are getting in on the fun trying to prank campers. Frank and I are on duty in the praetors' offices for any trick-or-treaters who come by. Usually some of the houses in New Rome stay open a little bit later though for the centurions once they get off of door duty, so we'll still have time to go wandering later. Plus, we get all the leftovers anyways, so we'll have plenty of treats regardless!"

Clovis

"Oh, Lou Ellen and I made a deal for tonight - she's going as Kiki from Kiki's Delivery Service, and she said if she can turn me into a cat for the evening she'll split her candy with me 50/50. And I get to nap the whole time. Not too bad of a deal for me, honestly. If I want I could honestly probably make the rounds again for seconds, since nobody would know I was already there. Total win-win."

Lou Ellen Blackstone

"Clovis probably already told you about my costume, but what he doesn't know is that my cabin is going all out. We're not gonna let Cabin 13 win spookiest haunted house, at least not without a fight! Sure he has skeletons and ghosts, but like, c'mon! That's gotta be cheating, right? Us Hecate kids take Halloween very seriously, of course. Especially trick-or-treat. Let's just say we tend to prefer the trick half a little bit more. We'll see how many campers get turned into animals by the end of the night. Unfortunately, Clovis doesn't count towards that."

Alabaster Torrington

"Well, normally I would be spending Halloween with my family, but seeing as the gods exiled me, I can't. That's alright though - I have a plan. You see, me and Dr. Claymore are gonna go scam campers out of their candy. I may be exiled, but as long as I stay outside the borders of Camp Half-Blood, I'm not breaking the rules, and they never said anything about Mistforms. And I might be able to say hi to my half-siblings while I'm there. Just as long as nobody rats me out to Chiron we're good. I'm sure I can convince them to keep quiet in exchange for king-sized candy bars. Oh, someone's coming - gotta go!"

What a spooky bunch! We hope you all had a happy and safe Halloween with plenty of treats.

[hitomisuzuya]

HII SUZUU!! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I seriously missed sending Requests since you're literally one of the best writers that I've ever seen! <33

I was wondering if you could do a Scaramouche x Reader x Kunikuzushi BUT a Celestial Type? (NSWF OFC COURSEE)

Like Scaramouche is a Demon and Kunikuzushi is an Angel. Them always fighting one for Distruction and the other for Peace.

What if they both laid their Eyes on Reader? Kunikuzushi always following reader like a Lost Puppy but being extremely Perverty while Scaramouche is always in the Shadows watching us like a Pray...

Poor Kunikuzushi losing his Innocence after he found some of reader's used underwears and him using them to jerk off (what a pervert angel!) But Scaramouche is another story..

Scaramouche literally appearing in front of reader while reader was taking a bath and fucking them till they become a little dumb pet<33

If you do this request then thank you cuz I WILL LITERALLY DIE CUZ I WAS DREAMING OF IT LAST NIGHT😻

Demon!Scaramouche x fem!reader Angel!Kunikuzushi x fem! reader. Smut. Masturbation. Dumbification.

I got a little filthy with this one. Thank you for spoiling me with such a delicious ask and your kind words❤️ Sorry it took me a few days to write this. Here is the pitch and I hope you enjoy. I tagged them as Yanderes cause it seemed fitting.

Angel! Kunikuzushi who clung to you the moment he met you, following you everywhere like a lost puppy. When he wasn't fighting Scaramouche's constant need to spread chaos and destruction around him, he spent his time obsessing about you.

He was reduced to a panting, moaning mess on the floor of your room, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, his cum shooting to stain the fabric of your panties again, having lost count of how many times he'd come awhile ago.

Every now and then, Kunikuzushi's soft lilac eyes would focus on the scene going on in the bath tub, his cock hardening again, fucking himself into your panties, letting out a desperate whine that made the demon fucking his precious girl dumb in the bathtub laugh.

Demon! Scaramouche thought Kunikuzushi sounded just as pathetic as you did, begging for him to fuck you harder, your walls clamping around his cock, squirting into the warm water as it sloshed around you.

While Kunikuzushi followed close behind you with every step he took, begging for you to touch him even a little bit in a way that would make him jack off for hours just thinking about it, Scaramouche preferred to stay in the shadows, stalking and watching you.

Waiting for the right time to take you, fucking your brains out and reducing you to nothing but a dumb little pet who begs for his cock inside of you like you crave it.

"More!" You cried out, digging your fingernails into his back, your legs wrapping around him to push him deeper inside of you. "Make me come again, please! I'll do anything you want, Scaramouche! Please!"

"I'll put on a collar on you, then. It'll be the perfect touch for my fuck toy to wear," He slammed himself inside of you again after he pulled his cock out of just to watch the cum gush from your cunt. "I'm going to enjoy to staining that with my cum once I buckle it around your pretty throat. I'll yank on it while I fuck you, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Scaramouche pinched one of your nipples roughly, making you cry out, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts. "I would love that more than anything! Scara! Scara!" Every thrust coiled your orgasm tighter and until you came again, your mouth agape, your tongue hanging a little from the side of your mouth.

He continued to thrust into you, making bath water slosh out onto the floor. "You sound like such a dumb slut," His degradation continued to make your walls clamp around his cock, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks as you choked out sobs of pleasure. "Go ahead, say Kunikuzushi's name too. Give him a thrill. It'll make that angel cum right on your panties the second it hears it."

When you could only babble incoherently, Scaramouche laughed and pulled out of you. "Opps, I guess you are too fucked dumb to listen to a word I say." Shoving you away from him, he lifted himself to sit on the edge of the tub. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he shoved your head down, forcing his cock into your mouth.

"Suck loudly now, my pet. I want Kunikuzushi to see you drool all over my cock while my cum spills from your mouth," Scaramouche moaned when you took him into your mouth, flattening your tongue along his cock in an almost worshipping manner.

You did hear yourself much after that, maybe a whimper that sounded like an echo in your ears as you swallowed his cum, your throat convulsing as you coughed.

[bpsmuts]

Truth or Dare - Rose [PART 1]

Rose x Male Reader

Words: 1.036

Summary: Your Childhood friend Rose and you spent the night at her place and decide to play truth or dare...

"Come on, be a little more daring!" Rose yells at you after you've picked truth for the 3rd time in a row. "Fine. Dare" you give in. "Finally, I thought I was gonna be stuck asking about your boring sex life all night" Rose replied.

Using her opportunity she finds a good dare. "I dare you to kiss me!" she says. "On the mouth" she adds before you could protest. "Really Rose? I've known you since Elementary School" You try to protest without luck.

"You've also seen me in underwear a dozen times, hell I've changed in front of you... and you're scared to kiss me?" Rose mocks you. "Yeah but that's different" You try to protest once more. "Okay fine, if you don't wanna do it its fine... didn't take you for such a chicken" Rose teases again.

You typically didn't let stuff like that get to you, especially if it came from Rose, but at that point you knew you had to prove her wrong. You stood up so fast that you practically leaped onto her, making her fall over, before planting your lips on hers for a full 10 seconds.

"Am I still a chicken now?" You ask as you move off Rosie and both of you sit back up. "No, but I hope this isn't the furthest you'll go"- You knew Rose was just saying these things to get into your head and you knew that it was also working perfectly, but you didn't care, you wanted to prove yourself to her.

"Okay your turn!" Rose tells you in her cute New Zealand accent. "Truth or Dare Rosie?" you ask her. "Unlike you, I'm not a pussy... Dare!". "I dare you to touch your boobs for 1 full round" You say confidently. "Touch my boobs? Seriously? I'd do that if you ask nicely, give me a real dare Y/N" Rose shatters your idea.

"A real dare?" You ask surprised. "Okay, I dare you to... uhh.. let me take off your panties and keep them!". "See now that's a proper dare" Rose happily replies as she gets up from the floor.

You slip your arms underneath her skirt and slowly pull down a pair of red lacy panties. "Red huh?" you ask her intrigued. "Had to match the skirt Mr. I have no idea how fashion works" Rose responds mockingly.

"Dare!" You tell Rose, before she could even ask you. "I dare you to kiss my lips" Rosie responds with a smile on her face. "Again?" you ask while moving closer to her face. As your lips are about to reach hers Rosie however intervenes "Stop! Not those lips" Rose tells you with your lips just inches away.

You freeze and think for a second before Rose whispers "My Vagina" She slides back "You want me to kiss your vag-..." you abruptly end your sentence as you've already been picked on too many times by her this evening and instead comply and move towards her crotch.

"And Y/N, French Kiss please!" Rose adds as she opens her legs, revealing her slightly wet pussy to you. You've never seen it before, even though Rosie has changed in front of you a couple times... You've just never been interested in her the way you are now.

As you get closer to her core, you can feel the warmth radiating from her and you even pick up a sweet smell coming from her folds directly.

Right as you are about to start your dare, you realize that this is the time, you can prove Rose wrong once and for all. She's teased you for so long, calling you a chicken and even though it was just friendly banter, you wanted to show her your other side.

You start by kissing her inner thighs, to bait out a witty comment from her, which worked perfectly. "You know that isn't my vaginAaahh" Rose can't fully finish since she felt your warm tongue hitting her clit right as she finished her sentence.

You grab her by the hips and start making circular motions around her clit with your tongue, making Rose moan loudly for you. "AAahh Y/N, you were supposed to kiss it!" She moans, but you're not stopping.

You've made it your mission to show her how wrong she was about you. Your tongue briefly moves to her opening, getting it wet, before returning to her clit and your right index finger teasing her hole.

After teasing her hole, you slowly push in your index finger, making her squeal. As you look up, you can see that Rose has started to support her upper body with her hands and her head hanging back all the way as you continue to pleasure her.

"Oh god Y/N. P-Please add another one" Rose stutters in between her moans. Her wish being your command, you quickly pull out, lick your index and middle fingers until they're nice and wet, before slowly inserting them back into her pussy.

"A little further d-down, y-y-yeah a tiny bit lower" Rose guided you towards her g-spot. Hitting hit resulted in loud screams of pleasure from her. "AAAAHHH FUCK, RIGHT THERE Y/N!!".

You continued with the same pace and it didn't take long for Rose to get close to her orgasm. "Y/N.. Y/N I'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me cum Y/N. Oh my god, this feels so good." Rose's moans get louder and louder as she reaches her climax.

You can feel her legs shake as her upper body falls onto the ground, her arms not being able to support her anymore. You let her ride out the orgasm, removing your fingers, but gently licking her pussy.

"Oh my god that was good Y/N" Rose stammers, while she drags herself to her bed for support.

"Well.. I dare you to return the favor" you tell her with a massive smile on your face.

"Is it okay if I return the favor tomorrow morning?" Rose asks sheepishly, still shaking a little. "I don't think I have any energy left in me after what just happened."

"Sure, but I want a little extra for the delay" You answer with a smirk.

[ikeubi]

candles ♡̷ 심 재윤

๛ y͟o͟u͟’͟v͟e͟ ͟n͟e͟v͟e͟r͟ ͟c͟e͟l͟e͟b͟r͟a͟t͟e͟d͟ ͟b͟i͟r͟t͟h͟d͟a͟y͟s͟ ͟b͟e͟c͟a͟u͟s͟e͟ ͟y͟o͟u͟ ͟n͟e͟v͟e͟r͟ ͟h͟a͟d͟ ͟p͟e͟o͟p͟l͟e͟ ͟t͟o͟ ͟c͟e͟l͟e͟b͟r͟a͟t͟e͟ ͟w͟i͟t͟h͟.͟ ͟a͟t͟ ͟l͟e͟a͟s͟t͟ ͟u͟n͟t͟i͟l͟ ͟j͟a͟k͟e͟ ͟c͟a͟m͟e͟ ͟i͟n͟t͟o͟ ͟y͟o͟u͟r͟ ͟l͟i͟f͟e͟.͟ ͟ ▍nonidol!jake x fmr __ fluff! established rs, non idol au. beware! slight angst if you squint

As Jake slowly woke up, a smile crept onto his face as he realized that today was a special day. Your special day.

The night before, your boyfriend decided to sleep over at your apartment as he assumed that there was an unspoken agreement that you two would be spending the next day together. So imagine the boy's shock when he turned over to face your side of the bed to find it empty──only a blue hued sticky note attached to the top of your pillow.

Jake sat up with a confused look etched upon his features as he grabbed the small piece of paper and read it.

Hi Yun :) I'm off to work for today. You seemed so peaceful sleeping, I didn't want to wake you up. See you later. Love you <3

A frown danced upon Jake's lips as he put the note down.

It was your first birthday (hopefully the first of many) that you'd spend together with Jake, and it saddened him that it wasn't something you were excited to be celebrating.

You were his favorite person, and he was going to do whatever he could to make you feel special everyday, but most especially on your birthday.

Jake spent the entire day going around the city and buying one thing after another.

A cake, party decorations, a gift, your favorite food and drinks, another gift, a birthday card, and more gifts.

Once he got back to your apartment, the boy started wrapping his gifts, writing a sweet message on the birthday card, and decorating your place in a way he thought you'd like.

He made sure all of the decorations were in your favorite color.

Jake was in the middle of plating the food he bought from two of your favorite restaurants before he suddenly heard the front door swing open.

You were shocked as you entered your apartment, hearing the playlist Jake made for you play softly in the background, seeing all the decorations hung up, the food and cake on the table, and your boyfriend in the kitchen meticulously plating some food.

"Jake?" you called, the silent question of 'what's all this?' evident in your tone.

The boy looked up from what he was working on and smiled at you.

"You're early," he said before making his way to your spot. "Happy birthday, love," he greeted while taking your face into his hands and pressing a sweet kiss onto the crown of your head.

His hands slid down to hold your hands as he pulled you over to the table where the food and gifts he prepared were.

"Jake, what's all of this for?" you asked.

You once told Jake that you never took birthdays seriously since you've never really celebrated it growing up as your parents were always busy, leading you to normally keep quiet about your birthday even to your friends.

Being someone who was used to throwing birthday parties for his friends and cousins over the years, and them doing the same for him, Jake didn't think you were serious about your sentiment and brushed it off. You proved him wrong today.

"You deserve to be celebrated. On all days, but especially today," he ran his thumb against your hand as his other arm pulled out a chair for you to sit on.

You smiled as Jake made his way to the kitchen to grab the last two plates before setting them down on the table and sitting down opposite to you.

Jake smiled as he saw you eye the decorations, food, cake, and gifts in total awe.

"I've never really celebrated my birthday like this before," you told him.

"That's because you didn't have me back then. But now you do, and that means celebrating your birthday with me is a yearly requirement, okay?" he said as he stuck out his pinky finger to interlock with yours.

"Okay," you happily replied as you interlocked your pinky with his in a promise.

Jake smiled widely before moving the cake in front of you, picking up the lighter next to it, and lighting the candles up.

He immediately held your hand again right after. "Make a wish, love," he told you.

You smiled back at him before closing your eyes and thinking of a wish.

You wished to always have Jake in your life.

As you opened your eyes and blew the candles, the world around you become more colorful as you looked at your boyfriend in front of you, eyes crinkled as he grinned from ear to ear, cheering lightly as the candles went out.

And that's when you knew. A birthday wish wasn't needed for Jake to be a permanent fixture in your life.

You were his, and he was yours.

And you were truly, madly, in love.

꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ mail !

teeny little fluff birthday imagine since it's my birthday tomorrow ⊹ヾ꒰ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ꒱ﾉ this was honestly so cute hehe ^_^ hope you liked it! tysm for reading<3

© ikeubi 2024 ✿ do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or translate a̲n̲y̲ of my work!

[skzooe]

Hi there!!! I've read your lipstick stain reaction and it was so cuteeee, I really loved it :))

Could you do another part with haruto, seunghwan, and zhang hao (and any one you'd like to add) please?

And if you don't want to do the same kind you could do it of you smothering them with kisses as well :))

Thanks in advance, I hope you have a nice day!!

lipstick stain trend,,🎀 p.2

BOYS PLANET

p.1 p.2 p.3

with; seunghwan, jiwoong, zhanghao, haruto, p.hanbin

[note to anon; thank you so much! this has made my night 💕 i hope you enjoy this one]

seunghwan;

so down bad for you

"do you wanna film this kiss-"

"yes"

soooo many compliments

"that colour looks really nice on you"

finds a way to rizz you up any opportunity he has

"it would look better if it was on my lips🤷‍♂️"

you sit on his lap with his hands immediately going to your waist, which made your heart skip a beat

when you start filming he cannot keep a straight face

you think he looks cute with kiss stains on his face so you decide to kiss him on the lips once

HE GETS SO EXCITED

BEGS for more

jiwoong;

RIZZLER NO.2

when you show him the video he's so unbothered about it

literally pats his lap signalling you to sit which makes you so AKJSFHJDFHK

"sit on my lap then"

when you start recording he just gazing at you with his "bedroom" eyes (ifyk)

stares at your lips up and down likee

the tiktok comments go so crazy over him

💬: WHAT IS HIS INSTA

💬: THIS MAN IS SO FINEEEE

which makes you hella jealous

however he does not give af and just finds it funny 💀

zhanghao;

would literally do anything for you so how could he say no

the sweetest & caring ever

he finds it cute when you're struggling to apply the lipstick so he does it for you

"do you need help? come here"

he holds your chin which gives you instant butterflies

fights the urge to kiss you bc he thinks you look so pretty 😕

cannot stop staring at your lips while filming

the comments find it so cute fr

💬: hes SO whipped for her

haruto;

he is on tiktok 24/7 so he defo knows about it

"i thought you would never ask😋"

is SO giggly

finds it ticklish so when you kiss him he starts laughing and throws you off the bed

the kiss stains get so smudged that he ends up looking like a tomato

you both forget about the tiktok because you spent all your time trying to wash it off 😭

p.hanbin;

absolutely LOVES the idea

however he takes it so seriously that you fight over what colour the lipstick should be 😭

"nonono, this one looks WAY better"

"nooo, this one suits you more"

turns into a compliment game??? (throwback to that hanbin vs woonggi battle💀)

"this colour makes me look prettier"

"you're pretty anyway"

"no you are"

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever met"

"no-"

he ends up crashing his lips onto yours before you could finish your sentence, leading to a makeout seshhhh

what tiktok????????

part 3 here

© skzooe