#these two give me heart palpitations | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeyedmiller · 8 months ago

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Pretty Little Thing | Joel Miller

joel miller x oc!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

synopsis: it’s summertime and you’re working at a retro diner on the outskirts of austin. you’ve seen many faces and heard many voices all in a passing blur; ones you’ve never really payed any mind to—until one handsome southern gentleman in particular catches your special attention, and he’s got a voice you’d recognize anywhere—one that’s gotten you off more times than you’d like to admit.

warnings: original female character, no outbreak (game) joel, joel has a hidden identity in this for a bit, joel is taller than reader, joel can pull reader’s hair, reader is mentioned to blush once, joel indulges in virtual sex work, joel has no kids in this, flirting, talks of masturbation, smut (protected sex, blowjob, consensual choking, spitting, hair pulling, many ass slaps, edging, squirting, name calling, ass play), no use of y/n.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: this is entirely self indulgent. sorry for the small writing hiatus, life has been insanely busy. thanks for being patient with me as i ease back into writing fanfic.

It was like clockwork.

Every day was the same.

The same regulars, the same orders being put in, the same rushes.

The lunch rush usually died down around two, which gave you time to prepare for the dinner rush before five.

It was funny, really. You never thought that such a tiny diner off of Interstate 35, tucked in a corner on the outskirts of Austin, would have such an attraction as it does.

Maybe it was the house favorite flapjacks you guys sold. Maybe it was the friendly hospitality you and your favorite coworker, Betty, gave to new and familiar faces. Hell, maybe it was the half-decent coffee and the low prices for everything that kept everyone coming in and coming back.

Either way, it was all the same every single day.

Until today.

Usually, there’d be no more than three stragglers from lunch, and no one would come in until around five.

The little bell above the door chimed as someone walked in, and Betty tapped you on the shoulder with a pleading look in her eyes.

You averted your gaze from the sugar pourers you were refilling, giving her a small smile.

“Honey, I’m sorry, I was about to take my break. Can you take that table for me? I need a cig after this morning’s rush.” Her blonde-gray hair was in disarray and her voice was scratchy and desperate.

“No problem. Enjoy your break.”

“Bless you, sweetheart.”

You brush off the straggling sugar crystals that stuck to your hands on your black apron, pulling out your pad of paper and pen before approaching the man that sat with his back facing you.

You muster up the best smile you can before stopping at the booth, ready to jot down his order.

“Hello sir, how are you doin’ today?” You ask, and he looks up from the menu with a grin.

The first thing you notice is his eyes. They’re a warm and inviting shade of hazel; a mixture of a beautiful green that reflects off of his tan skin and an amber as smooth as whiskey.

Then you notice his lips. Pink and plush. Kissable.

And then there’s the smile hidden behind the lips. Bright, pearly whites that take your breath away and make your heart palpitate, because god, why is he so handsome?

It’s like he won the genetic lottery or something.

The mustache above his lips and the scruff on his jawline matches his dark hair with a few silver strands peeking through; the only identifier of his prospective age.

His lips pull up into a smirk as he watches you shamelessly checking him out. Truthfully, you want him to watch you watching him.

He clears his throat and your eyes snap back up to his. You tilt your head to the side and study him for a moment further before he finally speaks.

“I’ll take a black coffee n’ the number three please. Eggs over easy.”

You write down his order and your brows furrow as he speaks. Something about his voice sounds so… familiar.

“Midday breakfast?” You tease, and he offers you a shrug and a grin. “It’ll be right out, sir.” You gingerly take the menu from him and walk back behind the counter.

His voice keeps ringing through your head as you ring in his order on the POS system. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but his voice was attractive nonetheless — deep and gruff, yet sweet and polite.

Where the hell have you heard that voice before?

And then it hits you.

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

That man’s voice has brought you more orgasms than you can possibly even count.

In a desperate need to get yourself off one night, you explored your options until you came across a faceless account. It was his broad body and thick, muscular arms that caught your attention. And — yeah, okay, maybe his deliciously girthy cock, too.

The final nail in the coffin was that thick, syrupy Southern drawl that reeled you in and immersed you in a world full of pleasure.

His voice and groans alone have made you come harder than any man you’ve ever been with.

Your throat goes dry as you look back at him, tucked into the booth he chose to sit at, looking at his phone.

You mindlessly pour his coffee and bring it out to his table, legs seemingly floating in his direction.

You set the coffee cup down on his table. His large hand grabs the cup, making it look nearly miniature.

Your mind was fuzzy and your core suddenly had an aching throb as you thought of his hands exploring your body; what they’d feel like all over you and — god, get a fucking grip.

“Was there anythin’ else I can get for you?” You ask as nonchalant as you can muster up.

“Nope, that’ll do it darlin’. Thank you.” The crinkles beside his eyes deepen in the slightest as he tosses a polite smile your way.

“Food should be out in a couple of minutes.” You rap your knuckles on the table once before turning around to finish topping off the sugar pourers.

The chef chimed the bell indicating the handsome man’s food was done. You wipe your hands on your apron once more before sucking in a breath.

You decided to shoot your shot and call him out by his screen name. You were confident it was him.

You saw no wedding band on his finger, either, so what the hell, right? Worst that could happen is he rejects your advances.

You grab his plate from the kitchen window and head toward his table. Your palms start to sweat and you’re nervous as hell, because fuck, a face like that is hard to forget.

You set the plate down in front of him and he softly thanks you. You hesitate for a second before tucking a stray hair that had fallen out of your braid behind your ear, shooting a wink his way.

“Anytime, Mr. Ryder. Let me know if you need anythin’ else.”

He pauses before looking up at you again, eyebrows furrowing.

“How do you—?” He starts, clearing his throat as his eyes travel down your figure.

“I’m a fan of your work.” You shrug, passing it off like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“I see,” He looks back at the now empty diner, gaze shifting back to you. “Wanna sit for a minute and chat?” His voice holds sincerity and — god, let it be — desire.

You nod and hold a finger up to him. “Just a sec.”

You walk back to the counter, catching Betty at a perfect time. She grins at you as she re-ties her apron around her waist.

You jerk your head back to Ryder. “The guy over there wants to chat for a few. Mind if I take a break?”

“Go ‘head baby. Not like we got a ton ‘a people to serve.” She laughs, and you shoot her a smile.

“Thanks, Betty.”

You untie your apron from your waist and walk back over to his booth. He gestures for you to slide into the side opposite of him, and you clumsily settle into the worn leather bench.

He chews on a piece of bacon before his gaze roams your face, seemingly studying you before he swallows.

“So, what’s the first video you watched?” He asks, and you feel your face burn with a blush. You thought he’d be more subtle, but it’s better to lay the cards on the table you suppose.

“Truthfully, I’ve scrolled all the way to the bottom of your page and have probably watched every single one.” You shrug at your confession, and that pulls a smirk out of him.

“What about your favorite?” His tone is almost challenging, but truthfully, he’s intrigued. Never did he think anyone could recognize him by just his voice.

Joel was careful not to show his face on camera. He wanted to keep himself a mystery—the gruff, sexy voice of a suave cowboy and his perfect body that he shared with the world—a secret.

“It’s probably gonna have to be the one where you’re pretty much just talkin’ the viewer through it and, fuck, this is kinda embarrassing but we’re already here,” You huff, and Joel shakes his head and urges you to continue. “When I watch that video, I’ve kinda timed it to make myself come the same time you do.”

“Not embarrassin’, sugar. That’s the sexiest thing a woman has ever confessed to me.”

“Yeah, well, when you got a voice like yours and a dry spell like mine, it’s the perfect mix for a most blissful—” Joel’s hearty laugh cut you off, and you couldn’t help but admire him from across the table.

He was so fucking handsome and you genuinely couldn’t believe you were seeing the man who’s made you come more times than you can count without even fucking touching you, in person.

“Can I see your notepad and pen real quick, baby?” He asks, gesturing down to your lap. You shuffle the items out of your apron pocket before sliding them across the table, and at the click of the pen, he starts to write something down.

You lick your lips and cross your arms over your torso, lolling your head to the side. He clicks the pen once more before sliding it back over to you with the notepad.

You look down at what he’s written, to see his fake name, phone number and an address.

“Whenever you get off, gimme a call n’ come over if you’d like. No pressure though, sugar.”

Holy fuck.

No way in hell you’re passing up this opportunity, so you shoot a smirk his way and tuck the paper into your apron pocket.

Play. It. Cool.

“I get off in about,” You look down at your watch, twisting your lips to the side. “An hour.”

You try to keep your voice steady, but your heart is thumping in your chest and your desperate, aching cunt.

“Sounds good,” He raps his knuckles on the wooden table before grinning at you, nudging your foot in the slightest before he finishes off his breakfast for lunch. “Just the check, sugar. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“I’d rather you pull it than get out of it.” You grin wickedly at the astonished man in front of you, sliding out of the booth.

You walk away to the counter before he can retort and ring the check up for his meal, but before you can bring it back to him, he slaps two twenties on the counter before you.

His thick fingers find their way to your wrist and give it a squeeze as he leans down to you and whispers his next words.

“Hope I can satisfy you in more ways than one, baby. See ya in an hour,” He straightens back up before looking down at the twin Jacksons staring back at the both of you, “Keep the change.”

He walks out without another word, without looking back, and it leaves you nearly winded.

“What was that all about?” Betty asks, sidling up beside you as she gently nudges your ribs.

“Looks like I got a hot date.” You half joke.

“If I was thirty years younger I woulda been all over that too, baby,” A hearty laugh escapes her and she shoots a wink your way. “Have fun tonight.”

The hour goes by surprisingly fast and you find yourself almost scurrying to your car after you clock out. You toss your apron into the passenger seat of your car and immediately roll down the windows.

The AC decided to give out on you about a week ago, and of course it was during a time where it was hotter than the devil’s fucking asshole outside.

You groan as you close your eyes, the heat already making you miserable. At least the diner had a good central air system.

You peel your eyes open to fish the paper out of your apron pocket with Ryder’s number and address on it, dialing the numbers scrawled across in blue ink.

After the second ring, his rich voice picked up on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Hey Ryder. ‘M off work now if you still want me to head to your place.”

“Hey sugar. Head on over. There’s a spot in the driveway for ya.”

“See you soon.”

Nerves coursed through your veins as the line went dead. You type in his address into your phone, and to your surprise, he only lived fifteen minutes away.

You threw your car in drive and you were off, the hot air whipping through the cab of your car.

It was truly unlike you to do something so bold like this.

You never went to strangers houses, always ignored when you got hit on at the diner, rejected offers from several men for what would probably be a night full of mediocre sex—and yet, there was something about this man that you couldn’t shake off.

Even with just video evidence of this man’s gruff voice, veiny cock and skillful hands, you could just tell he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing.

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to a quiet neighborhood. His house was on the right hand side, and you pulled up into the driveway next to his black truck.

You took a deep breath before looking at yourself in the mirror of your sun visor before touching up with some lip gloss. You spray your perfume on your pulse points before deciding to stop stalling and finally get out of your car before psyching yourself out.

Your beat up work shoes scuff the concrete path leading up to Ryder’s door, and you swallow thickly before you knock.

Thirty seconds later, a now shirtless Southern gentleman answers the door, hazel eyes catching yours as you stare up at him in awe.

“Well fuck me.” You mutter under your breath as you study his handsome face and his thick, toned torso.

“Tha’s the plan, sugar.” His deep voice shoots straight down to your core, nearly making you audibly moan.

He steps aside to let you into his house, which is surprisingly warm and inviting. It’s cozy with its worn-in furnishings and family photos on the walls. It smells like him too; something earthy and musky and delicious.

He guides you into the living room with his hand on your lower back, touch sending a chill down your spine.

“Make yourself cozy, darlin’. Would y’like anythin’ to drink?”

“Whiskey, neat please. If you have it.” You respond, and he softly smiles at you before nodding and retreating into the kitchen. You can’t help but watch him walk away with the muscles clearly rippling in his back as he walks, all the way down to the back dimples he has.

There’s no fucking way this man is real.

You sigh and settle onto the couch, folding your hands into your lap after setting your purse and keys on the coffee table in front of you.

It’s only a couple of minutes before Ryder reappears before you, handing you a glass of amber liquid. You thank him and sip on it graciously, the smooth taste gliding down your throat and going straight to your already throbbing core.

He sits next to you and slings his arm over the back of the couch, allowing himself to get comfortable as if this occurrence is the most natural thing in the world.

Fuck, maybe it might be for him. You wouldn’t really be surprised considering the charm and suave demeanor he possesses.

“You can relax, darlin’. ‘M not gonna try anythin’ or touch ya without your consent.”

Your shoulders visibly relax at that, not even noticing they were tense to begin with. He didn’t give you bad vibes or scare you. He made you nervous—a feeling you haven’t felt with a man in a very long time.

“So,” You start, voice scratchy from talking so much hours prior and the burn of the whiskey affecting your throat, “You usually bring women home like this?” You’re half teasing and half curious, wanting to see if this really is a regular occurrence for him.

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and practically vibrates the whole couch. “No, sugar. You’d be the first t’ even recognize me just by my voice. Gotta say, ‘m pretty impressed with that. Guess you’re a regular viewer then, I take it.”

Now he’s the one teasing, but there’s a knowing tone in his voice. You didn’t even have to say it. He knows.

There’s really no point in denying how turned on he gets you, so you just… let it happen.

You feel a little looser with the whiskey swimming in your veins, giving you the bit of courage you mustered up within the past minute or so. You sink into the couch further, spreading your legs enough to keep the man curious.

He watches you wearily, eyes trained on your body and the signals you were emitting.

“You’re the only man that can get me off now. You’ve got me wrapped around those skillful fingers, Mr. Ryder.” Your voice sounds more smooth and sultry than you expected it to, but it was definitely working in your favor.

“These skillful fingers would love to show you a thing or two, baby.” His fingers twitch around the glass he holds tightly; clearly a form of self-restraint.

You didn’t want him to hold back anymore.

“Show me.” You say.

A small groan emits from the back of his throat.

You suck in a breath as your eyes notice his going completely dark, drowning in desire for you. His once bright hazel eyes have since been replaced with something deeper than a simple need to satiate.

It was fucking carnal.

He downs the rest of his drink and licks his lips, patting his jean-clad thigh.

“Sit on my lap. Back against my chest.” He commands, and you try to smoothly maneuver yourself onto him just as he’d asked.

Once you’re settled on top of him, he gently grips onto both of your knees to spread your legs apart so they’re on either side of his thick thighs.

Your lips part and you don’t even notice you’re breathing heavier until you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“Relax, baby. ‘M gonna make you feel good. If you need me to stop, just tap my thigh twice and hard. Got it?”

“Yes.” You whisper, nearly shaking in anticipation.

“Good.”

And his hands are grazing up your legs to the inner part of your thighs, delicately tracing your skin. Goosebumps raise at his featherlight touch, and before you know it, he’s spreading his own legs wider to spread yours.

You were aching and damp even back at the diner as you sat with him in the booth, studying his handsome features. The cool air of the home hits the dampness on the cotton panties you wore.

Ryder’s fingers made their way up to the lace trim of your panties, causing you to softly whimper for him. You genuinely didn’t think you needed anyone to touch you so fucking bad in your life.

You didn’t want to come off whiny and absolutely desperate, so you kept your pathetic begging to yourself.

“So wet already, pretty girl. This all for me?”

You can’t muster up the words because your brain is simply mush at this point, and all you want is his fingers on you, and fuck, in you.

“You know I respect you, right baby?”

Respect you?

You’ve only known this man—physically—for a few hours, albeit knowing his voice and his body long before he’d even tell you his real name.

And yet, there’s a comfort in his presence. One that would have you willing to do nearly anything for him—with him.

And all you could do was meekly nod your head at his words, his Southern twang dripping in honey—buzzing into your veins.

You turn your head to look at him with a bewildered expression on your face, though, wondering why he’d ask such a thing.

He shoots you a devilish smile.

“Good, ‘cuz for the next few minutes it’s gonna look like I don’t.”

“Oh, fuck.” You mewl, tossing your head back onto his shoulder. He noses at your jaw, littering kisses and small nips all along your jawline and neck as he slides your panties to the side.

He slides his middle finger through your slick slit, moving up to circle your already sensitive clit. You shudder at the touch, clamping your eyes shut as you softly moan.

“Fuck baby, you’re drippin’ already. This what I do to ya? You get this wet when you’re by yourself and you’re bein’ a dirty fuckin’ girl gettin’ yourself off to my videos? Hm?”

His deep voice vibrates through your body, finger traveling down to your entrance. He teases you as he slips the tip of his finger into you—nothing more—and moves it back out.

He continues this a few times, and when you don’t answer him, he slaps your dripping cunt lightly. You gasp and grip onto his forearm that was wrapped around your torso.

“Answer me.”

“God, yes, I–I fuckin’ love your videos. You always get me this wet. Every time. You’re just so—fuck—goddamn hot.”

He chuckles at your blabbering. “Hot, huh? You think that highly of me?”

“Ryder,” You moan as he fully sinks his middle finger into you. He stops his movements and it takes everything in you not to rock your hips.

“Joel.”

“W-what?”

“I want you moaning my real name, baby.”

Joel.

That name is somehow very fitting for him, and lucky for you, it rolls off the tongue easily.

“Joel.” You test it, and his grip on you tightens.

“Atta girl.” He praises, sinking a second finger into you. You moan at the feeling, long fingers hitting spots yours never could. He curls his fingers to hit that exact spot and you cry out in pleasure.

You can feel Joel’s cocky smirk on his lips as he kisses your braided hair, likely in a complete disarray at this point.

The squelching noise that reverberated throughout his living room was truly obscene, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, it seemed to spur him on as he twisted his wrist and worked his fingers faster, pressing into that spot inside of you that had you choking on your own moans.

Without warning, you felt yourself nearly at the brink of your orgasm—and Joel pulls his fingers out of you. You cry in desperation, the beautiful build up completely dissipated.

“Not. Yet.” Joel’s mouth was next to your ear, nibbling at your lobe as he worked you through the edging.

He didn’t stop after that, though. He kept the momentum going, sliding his other hand from your torso down to your swollen clit. He slowly starts to rub small circles onto the already overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out a strangled moan as the feeling surges through your body.

“Now.” He says.

Your mind was going blank at this point and a pressure kept building and building and building—until you felt a huge gush, forceful and draining. Your eyes snap open to see clear liquid dripping all down the couch.

“Fuck, Joel I’m sor—”

“Don’t you dare apologize baby. You ever done that before?” He asks, and you shake your head no. He moans at your wordless response and readjusts himself beneath you, and you can suddenly feel how hard he is in his jeans.

Even through the denim he felt fucking big, and you knew you were in for it.

“Let me,” You start, shakily sliding off of his lap and onto the floor. “Let me take care of you.”

Joel watches you and the same muscle in his jaw ticks furiously. He nods without another word as you lean up to kiss the hot skin above his jeans, trailing your lips down to the hemline. You undo the button and zipper swiftly, and he lifts his hips to pull his pants and boxers down to his mid thigh.

Your hunch was correct: he’s fucking huge. You swallow as you take in the sight of his cock in-person rather than over a screen, and it was even better than you’d imagined all those times.

You gently grab the base of his silky flesh, giving it a soft squeeze as you move your hand to the tip. Your eyes flicker up to his, and he’s watching you intently. You smile sweetly up at him before bringing your head down to lick the pre come from his slit, moaning as you get a taste of the salty musk.

Joel’s hand flies to your head, threading his fingers through the loose braid as you slowly lick your way down the vein on the underside of his cock.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” You say, and he groans at your praise. “Even better than I imagined.”

You bring your tongue back up to the tip and take him in your mouth this time, going as far down as you could before you gagged softly.

“Fuck yeah baby, just like that. Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me,” He mewls as you set a faster pace, one of your hands coming to pump the rest of his cock you couldn’t reach with your mouth, the other gently fondling his balls.

You moan around him as his silky flesh easily glides onto your tongue. You enjoy getting him off like this; unraveling him inch by inch just as he’s done to you many times before.

He began to rock his hips up into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try your damndest to not forcefully gag around him.

“Mouth feels so goddamn good on me, honey. ‘M not gonna last much longer.” Joel confesses, and your tighten your lips around his cock to silently urge him to let go.

It was only another minute until his hips completely stilled and his pulsing cock was drained, salty spend coating your mouth in haste.

He groans loudly as he reaches down to cradle your jaw, slowly sliding your mouth off of him. You swallow his spend and sit back on your heels, looking up at him innocently.

“On your knees, baby. Ass up.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch, and you happily oblige. He pulls the skirt of your uniform up over your hips and slides your wet panties down your legs so you’re on full display for him.

You feel his hands slide over the globe of your ass, spreading you apart to get a good look at all of you. You suck in a breath for a second before you feel his fingers slide through your slick folds once more, teasing you so.

“You ever had a man touch you back here? Pretty little thing.” He asks as his thumb circles the tight ring of your ass.

“No.” You moan, closing your eyes as you press a cheek to the couch cushion.

“Hm. ‘S a shame. Feels real good.”

“Please, Joel.” You truly weren’t above begging for this man to touch you in any way possible.

“Please what, sugar?”

“Please—please touch me. Make me feel good. Even better than I already feel.”

You turn your head more to lock eyes with him staring down at you with a look of determination and hunger.

He keeps his eyes locked on you as he grabs his half-hard cock, reaching to the coffee table beside you both to grab the foil packet you didn’t even see until this very moment.

He rips it open and slides it on before sliding his cock through your slick folds. You sigh in pleasure as your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before you open them again as his tip notches your entrance.

“You ready baby?”

You nod your head, but he shakes his.

“Need your words this time darlin’.”

“Yes Joel. Please.”

He sinks into you slowly, his girth stretching you out so deliciously. It stung a little, because in truth, you’ve never been with anyone his size.

Once he’s fully sheathed into you, he shoots you that same wicked grin before letting spit slowly dribble out of his mouth and onto your asshole.

“Oh fuck me,” You whisper, moaning as his thumb circles the tight ring once again. “Please.” You say, and he hooks his thumb gently into you.

You feel so full like this, barely even able to comprehend the fact that you’re about to get fucked by your favorite adult content creator.

Joel starts to rock his hips slowly at first, moaning at how tight you are. He picks up his pace once you’re both comfortable and it feels like he’s punching your fucking gut.

It’s almost unbearable— but the pleasure outweighs the pain by a mile. He’s rocking his hips so hard that the couch starts to scrape onto the floor, nothing but skin slapping on skin. You feel a sting on your left asscheek and moan at the contact, realizing Joel had slapped you.

He does it again, and again, and again, until tears are in your eyes and you can no longer bear the sting.

“Pussy feels so fuckin’ good baby. Was meant to take this cock, hm?” He says through gritted teeth, and you can’t help but agree with him.

His hand slides up your back and reaches your hair, pulling it so your head tilts upward.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this. Love the way you feel around me.” He confesses, taking his thumb out of your tight muscle before wrapping his other arm around your torso once, only to pull you upright this time.

He’s pistoning into you as you lean back onto his body. His hand wraps gently around your throat as he scatters more kisses onto your jawline and up your earlobe.

“Can I?” He asks, and you choke out a meek yes.

His large hand wraps all the way around your throat, squeezing the sides. Joel turns his head down to look at you, all helpless as he fucks you relentlessly.

Your jaw hangs open and your eyes are squeezed shut, relishing in the all-consuming feeling of Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You open your eyes as you plead his name, feeling another orgasm burning within you.

He moves his fingers up from your throat to grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he spits into it.

“Swallow.” He commands, and you don’t question him one bit.

He likes seeing you like this—submissive and practically breedable—and yet, he barely knew you. He knew he wanted that to change after this, though.

“Joel I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hoarse and desperate, trying so hard to keep the feeling of pleasure at bay.

It was no use, though. The way he was looking at you made you want to fucking risk it all, and when he finally bent his face down to kiss you, you knew it was a wrap.

You both moaned into each other’s mouths as your tongues tangled together, tasting each other and exploring one another.

It wasn’t long before the coil finally snapped for you, and seconds later, him as well. You both panted heavily as you were submerged in the post-coital bliss.

“You did so good, baby. Hopefully I lived up to your expectations.”

You huff a laugh at his words as he pulls out of you and shuffles himself down onto the couch, pulling you on top of him. He kisses the top of your head as he plays with your hair, a strange feeling blooming in his chest as you both enjoy the presence of one another.

One thing’s for sure and two things for certain:

You’re everything he’s wanted, and he didn’t even know how to tell you. There was no way he was letting you go now.

tags: @endlessthxxghts @punkshort @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @party-hearses

@joelsgreys @ozarkthedog

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x oc #tlou one shot #tlou imagine #joel miller tlou

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yujiqi · 4 months ago

Note

hiii could you write a lil something fluffy about reader and hamzah living together and what starts as you stealing his clothes turns into you guys sharing basically everything (like he steals your satin pillowcase, you use his glasses, he tries out your skincare, etc.)??

(could be an established relationship or secretly-in-love roommates <3)

the perfect pair

bf!hamzah x f!reader

synopsis: you and hamzah have been living together for so long you even start to use each others stuff!

genre/s: fluff

warnings: none!

wc: 890

a/n: coming around to requests! i literally used all your examples because i genuinely couldn't think of things LOL this was lowkey short and idk if i fulfilled what u wanted but this ones so cute i love it thank u anon :D

you and hamzah moved in together about 6 months ago and you guys have gotten much more comfortable with each other since then. for the first month or two, you guys would always ask for permission before borrowing or wearing each others things, but you really can't say the same now.

"babe have you seen my camo hat?" you hear your boyfriends voice call from your shared closet.

"yes!" you say smiling as he walks out and towards you on the bed, staring at his camo hat sitting on your small head.

"look at you," he pats your head, "always taking my hats"

"it matches my pants, see" you laugh, jumping up to give him a hug. he reciprocates and presses a kiss to your forehead.

it's not even just clothes and accessories, sometimes it's the oddest things that you typically wouldn't share. you were finishing up your night routine and as you get in bed, you notice somethings missing. you turn over to hamzah laying on his side scrolling on his phone, his head laying on the pillow with your satin pillow case.

"hamzah" you rest your chin on his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the stupid tiktok he was watching.

"hm" he hums, engrossed.

"why do you have my pillow case?" he finally looks away from his phone to look at you, flashing a cheeky cmile.

"it makes my skin smoother! and look at my curls" you begin playing with his silky dark brown locks.

"they look so good baby, want me to buy you one?"

"no no then it won't smell like you" you only let out a chuckle, kissing his cheek.

"you're so cute"

whenever you study for exams, you have a hard time reading the font and to your surprise, hamzahs glasses have the perfect amount of prescription, so you wear them!

"ugh this is so stupid" you sigh, frustrated at the question you've been on for 30 minutes. you hear the front door opening and closing, meaning hamzah's home.

"hey girl, whatcha doin hm?" he comes behind your chair, kissing the top of your head.

"i'm studying for that business exam i told you 'bout"

"oh man, i wish i could help but i really don't know what i'm looking at right now" he begins massaging your shoulders, hoping to relieve some of your stress. "that feel good, angel?"

"so good," you sigh. "thank you baby but 'm gonna fall asleep, i gotta finish this"

"ok i'll leave you to it, i'm proud of you ma" he leans down to kiss your cheek but he pauses. "are you wearing my glasses?"

you smile up at him, kissing his plump lips. "yeah, needed them to see this tiny ass font"

"you look so studious, you're serving office siren i think is what it's called? but you look so sexy i'm actually having heart palpitations" he grasps his chest, heaving jokingly.

"i love you how you say things" you laugh, pressing another kiss to his lips.

hamzah occasionally gets little breakouts on his face, and to make matters worse, he doesn't even have a skincare routine. but you do. so when this happens, he just uses your skincare!

"how the hell does she use this?" hamzah questions as he fumbles with one of your serums.

"hamzah, you okay?" you enter the bathroom, your hamzah-senses tingling. "boy what are you doing?"

"my skin was doing bad and i was feeling a lil insecure" he sulks.

"should've told me love," you sit on the counter. "c'mere, lemme do this for you" he moves to stand between your legs and you take the serum from his large hands. "what have you done so far?"

"i put this thing on" he points at your toner, before placing his hands on your thighs.

"ok good, you were on the right track!" you open the serum and fill the applicator. "you press this at the top to get the serum in the dropper"

"ohhh i thought it was the squeezy ones"

"no, but i'm shocked you know that!" you smile approvingly at him, applying some serum on his cheeks and then his forehead and chin. you begin patting it into his skin with your fingers.

"i like when you touch my face, feels good" he looks at you with half lidded eyes.

"yeah?"

"mhm, can you do this more often?"

"of course, anything for you sweetheart" you kiss his nose, "now i'm just gonna use a moisturizer then we'll do sunscreen, okay?" he nods his head, inching his body closer to you. now his arms are wrapped loosely around your lower waist.

"hamzah you're too close! how am i gonna do this?" you giggle at his clingyness, applying the cream to his face that's just inches away from yours.

"see you're doing just fine" he gives you toothly a smile as you reach the last step.

"anddd we're done!" you fix a stray curl on his head before wrapping your arms around his neck so he can help you down.

"is the glow giving?" he says as he sucks his cheeks in.

"yes but don't do that"

"oh ok so you don't love me"

"boiii get the hell out of here" you playfully push his shoulder and chase him out of the bathroom.

it really is sharing is caring with you and hamzah.

#hamzah fluff #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah imagines #slushy noobz #hamzah

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babydollslibrary · 16 days ago

Text

LABYRINTH — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem! reader

published: January 26th, 2023

summary: y/n goes through the 3 stages of falling in love with her best friend; realization, fear, and relief. based on the 3 “i’m falling in love” lines in Labyrinth by Taylor Swift.

gif not mine.

REALIZATION

i felt like my fingertips may freeze off. and the longer i sat in the glass seat in Prudential Center, the colder they got. i’d been to too many of Jack’s games to count, but it never failed that i always forget how cold it really was sitting directly by the ice.

“i’m freezing my tits off.” i looked over to Luke Hughes, who occupied the seat next to me.

“Luke, you don’t have tits to freeze off.”

“what are you talking about? mine are bigger than yours, eh?” he jokes. i let loose a mock gasp and hit his arm.

“how rude!”

with two minutes left in the third period, i was grateful the game would be over soon. i was less grateful, however, that it was looking like the Devils would be breaking their six game win streak tonight. they’re currently down by one, with the Panthers having four goals against the Devils three.

i had my eyes glued to the puck, mumbling to whatever higher entity would listen, praying for a last minute game tying goal. luck was on our side tonight because with ten seconds left on the clock, Dougie managed to slap shot the puck straight past the head of Bobrovsky and into the net. i shot to my feet, clutching onto Luke’s arm as he stood beside me, both of us with wide eyes and our jaws dropped open.

we settled back in our seats a few minutes later to watch the additional five minutes of overtime, both of us hunched closer to the glass, my hands fidgeting in anxiety. i watched as Jack, Nico, and Dougie skated to the center of the ice for puck drop. Dougie gains possession of the puck quickly, skating it into the Panthers zone before dropping it back to Nico, who tries for a one-shot, which is knocked away by Bobrovsky. Jack gains control of the rebound puck and makes quick work of snapping it into the goal.

Luke and i once again raise to our feet, cheering for his brother and my best friend. Jack skates around the glass bordering the ice, arms up in the air in celebration before skidding to a stop in front of us. our eyes lock and he lifts his hand against the glass. heart fluttering, i place my hand directly against the glass to match his and he mutters out two words.

“for you.”

a low simmering arises in my gut and i feel my heart skip a beat, or three, as he skates away to hug his teammates. what was that? am i having heart palpitations? should i be going to see a doctor?

i catch Jack’s eye once more as Nico taps his helmet and he flashes a smile my way. in return, my heart flips again. my mind whirls through thoughts faster than a hummingbirds wings before settling on the only real explanation.

uh oh, i’m falling in love.

now i meet Luke’s gaze and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, though his reason for it, i’m not too sure. i’ve been friends with all of the Hughes brothers since elementary school, it’s not as though he should suspect anything between Jack and i.

FEAR

it’s been 2 months since i came to the realization that i was falling in love with Jack, and now i’m leaned against the doorway leading into his bedroom, watching him pack for a roadie. the heart fluttering and stomach butterflies have long since vanished, leading me to believe that my traitorous heart got the memo that he and i will never be more than best friends.

“you’re sure you don’t wanna bring a friend out to the game? you can bring Luke if he can get away from UMich for a weekend.” Jack’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts and i give a slight shake of my head to clear my thoughts.

“i don’t know, i’ll let you know. i already talked to Luke but he said he has his own games this weekend. maybe i can find someone to come out with me, but you know i’ll be there regardless.”

“i would be sorely disappointed if you weren’t there. you know how happy it makes me to see you in the crowd.”

and as if a flip switched, the heart flutters were back.

“i’m your biggest fan Jacky, of course i’ll be there. no matter if i have to go alone or not.” i moved my way fully into the bedroom and picked up his messily packed bag, flipping it over and scattering the clothes on his bed before idly folding them and placing them right back into the duffel bag.

“you know you don’t don’t need to fold my clothes, right? i can do it myself.” Jack folds his arms and hits me with a half smile.

“obviously not, you still pack like a teenage boy. you’re gonna end up with wrinkles in all your shirts.” i roll my eyes and sit on the edge of the bed as i continue to fold.

“you love me.” he retorts, finally joining into the folding. my heart skips a beat once again, and i know that he doesn’t mean it in the way that i do, but my hopeless romantic side doesn’t seem to understand that.

after dropping Jack off at Prudential Center to catch the bus to the airport with the rest of his teammates, i’m laid in bed on the phone with my friend, Emma.

“the game is on Saturday, if you wanted to fly out with me. Jack is willing to pay for your flight so that i won’t be alone. but if not, that’s cool. i can go on my own.”

“yeah, i can go! although, i’ve gotta say; you’re really sure this guy is JUST your best friend? i mean, what “just friend” is willing to pay for someone to fly out to one of his games JUST so you won’t be alone?”

“that’s just the kind of person Jack is. he’s exceptionally sweet. and he has this protective nature. he doesn’t like the idea of me going to games alone because he knows how people can be. he’s so thoughtful and always prepared to help in any way he can.” i can feel the smile gracing my lips but no matter how much i try, i can’t will it away. i always get happy talking about my best friend.

“you’re in love with him.” Emma singsongs and i can hear her smirk through the phone. “i can tell by your voice. you get the same airy lilt that my sister gets when she talks about her husband. like you would do anything for him. like he hung the moon in the sky just for you.”

“he’s my best friend, Em. i’ve known him since i was an awkward little girl with lopsided pigtails and gap teeth. obviously i would do anything for him. just being his friend makes me immensely happy.”

“but you want to be MORE than friends. you can’t fool me. i’ve been where you are right now. you love him, but you don’t think he feels the same way. but i can tell you right now that any guy that would go through the lengths that he does to make sure you feel happy and safe, definitely loves you in more than a friend way.”

oh no, i’m falling in love again.

my sigh is loud and clear. rolling onto my side, i place my phone on speaker on-top of the pillow next to me.

“you need to tell him how you feel. or better yet, just kiss him.” Emma speaks again.

“it’s not necessarily just that i don’t think he feels the same way, although i do think that observation is wildly inaccurate. it’s the fact that it could ruin everything if i made a move and i was wrong. he’s my best friend and i can’t afford to lose him.”

RELIEF

the off season has officially arrived, and the thought of having Jack to myself for a few months has me more excited than i’d care to admit. we arrived at the Hughes lake house yesterday, meeting Luke who was already here, and Quinn and Trevor both arrived this morning.

We were all sat outside around a fire now, the guys all drinking beers and reminiscing on past summers spent here.

“oh, remember when Jack was dating that Stacey girl that was renting that house down the street a few summers ago? god she was awful.” Trevor’s voice was a few octaves higher than needed, due to the alcohol in his system, but it mattered little to the others because Quinn and Luke laughed along with him.

“oh c’mon you guys, she wasn’t that bad!” i could spot the red tinge to Jack’s cheeks from my spot beside him, the firelight sharing an orange glow to admire him in.

“uh dude, yeah she was! she was so jealous of y/n that she pushed her off the boat!” my eyes get wide and i start shaking my head at Trevor, dragging my hand in front of my neck in a stop motion, but he just kept talking. “and don’t you remember all those nasty things she said about her? girl was just plain awful!”

i look back up to Jack just in time to see the frown that takes place. he looks towards me with furrowed eyebrows.

“wait what? why did you never tell me any of this?”

“oh shit did you not know?” Quinn’s laughter cuts off and he looks genuinely concerned. “y/n, i thought you told him when you told us.”

i shake my head and avert my gaze down to my feet but Jack has other plans. grabbing ahold of my chin, he moves my head to look towards him again.

“i didn’t say anything because i didn’t wanna ruin your relationship or sound like a jealous bitch. and you guys eventually called it quits anyways, so what’s the big deal?”

“the big deal is that you didn’t tell me sooner, y/n. the big deal is that i would’ve tossed her to the curb immediately if you had told me she was acting that way. YOU wouldn’t’ve been the one ruining the relationship, SHE would’ve.” his voice is sharp and kind of daunting, contradicting his soft gaze pointed on me. i can see the worry in his eyes and know his next words before he says them. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine, Jack. it was a long time ago. can we please just forget about it?” i sigh and muster up a smile before turning back towards the fire. “do you guys remember the time we saran-wrapped Luke to his bed while he slept?”

“YOU WERE IN ON THAT?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND!” Luke’s words make the other three guys all burst out in laughter.

“who’s idea did you think it was, Moosey?” Quinn is hunched over in laughter at the memory and i’ve slowly started scooting forward in my seat in preparation for what i know will come next.

“oh i’m gonna get you for that!” Luke shoots to his feet and that’s all it takes for me to set off like a race horse.

i can hear his footsteps not far behind me, chasing me into the house. i shut the back door behind me, in order to save me a few precious seconds and i run straight into the living room, leaping behind the couch and settling into a hiding spot between the sofa and the wall. i can hear Luke bound into the room before he moves onto the next room, but then i also hear the footfall of the other three coming in from outside as well. no longer than ten seconds pass before Jack’s head pops up above me, a large grin spread across his face.

“hello there.” the shock makes me jump and i laugh and poke his nose.

“shhh, don’t let him find me.” Jack pretends to think, nodding his head and tapping his chin with an index finger before-

“LUKE! SHE’S HIDING BEHIND THE SOFA!”

i let out an incredulous gasp and pop back up into a standing position, ready to run once more, but Jack wraps his arms around my midsection, keeping me planted in the spot.

“i thought you were my best friend! how could you betray me like this?! our friendship may never recover! i don’t think we can ever be friends again after this!” my mockery and jokes come to an abrupt pause when he takes a seat on the couch, pulling me down to fall into his lap. i can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and i look away, hoping he can’t see my blush from this angle.

“you can’t get rid of me that easily. we’re soulmates, y/n, remember?” and cue the butterflies once more. “you said that when we were 10. i didn’t really understand it at the time, but now i think you might’ve been right.”

oh, i’m falling in love.

i can feel his breath fanning my ear, and i peek over my shoulder to look at his face. our eyes lock and i know my entire face must be red and spotted from my blushing, but the look in his eyes makes me feel like the most beautiful girl alive right now.

his eyes flicker down to my lips once. twice. and one final third time, before he starts to lean in. and with a mind of their own, my lips follow until they graze his. the kiss is light at first, nothing more than a peck, before he finally captures my lips with his. his arms loosen around my middle and his hands trail to settle onto my hips, turning me mid-kiss to fit better on his lap. i pull back, leaning my forehead against his, and a wide and breathtaking smile graces his lips.

“i’m falling in love with you, y/n. i think i have been for the past eleven years.”

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jh86 x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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shewroteaworld · 7 months ago

Text

How He Made You Feel

Pairing: Jake Peralta x Reader

Premise: Right before the first sleepover of your romantic relationship, Jake puts a high school teacher behind bars for attempted sexual assault. The case brings up some difficult high school memories for you.

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sexual harassment, downplaying of sexual harassment

Word count: approx. 2,500

A/N: I'm back! Let me know in the comments if you want more Jake Peralta fics. (I'm not sure there's an audience for it.) Hope you enjoy! <3

Jake Peralta is the king of cinnamon buns. Eating the ones you bake, that is.

“This is like heaven on my tongue!” He moans. He licks some cream cheese frosting off the top. “Babe, these are seriously amazing.”

Your back relaxes. “Thanks, Jakey.”

Right after your shift at the 99th precinct, you zipped to your apartment to chill before the first sleepover of your romantic relationship (no pressure). Rather than chillaxing, your anxiety sparked, and kneading dough became the outlet. Your in-a-pinch cinnamon buns never fail to soothe your soul or anyone’s taste buds. Now that you’re in his kitchen, you’re grateful for the baking conniption. Jake’s indulgence gives you a moment to ground.

As he gulps down another bite, his eyebrow quirks. “Jakey?” He flashes that cheeky grin you love to hate.

Your face warms. “I never said that.”

“Nope! No take backs! It’s on the record!”

You scoff. “Aren’t you a little young for hearing loss?”

“Hey!” He pokes the edge of your forced frown. “You said it, and you know it, and it was adorable.”

Your heart beats in your ears. “You liked it?”

Jake’s eyes soften. “Yeah, I liked it.” He smirks mischievously. “And you’re getting all mushy on me.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please, Peralta.”

“I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.” He pokes your side.

You jerk away. “You don’t, and you know it.”

“If you say so! But I know what cutesy-nickname territory means.”

The buzz of his phone spares you from his ribbing. “Our DoorDash is here. I’m going to pick it up downstairs.” Jake slips on his slides.

“Kay. Thanks.”

He leans over his kitchen chair to kiss your cheek. “Course. BRB.”

Jake rushes out his apartment door. In his absence, you observe his place: the mopped kitchen tile, his clean olive green couch, his stash of beginner recipe books tucked on a shelf above a kitchen counter. When you first transferred to the 99, you couldn’t imagine Peralta had an inkling of an organized domestic in him.

Your tan trench coat hangs next to his leather NYPD jacket on the coat rack in the hall. Your heart palpitates. That was the first stitch of your domestic lives being sewn together. You wring your hands.

Jake doesn’t care about stains. You’ll eat Indian take-out from the container while watching some corny comedy he loves and you bemoan on his bare sofa. You tidy the kitchen table anyway.

The wave of anxiety begins to crest as you straighten junk mail from random magazines and political campaigns. You brush crumbs off the new placemats you forced on him through Office Secret Santa. (Weave placements are a recipe for soup-spill disasters.) You leave the manila files of cases he’s working on untouched off to the side.

You pour two tall glasses of water. So what if you ordered drinks? Jake’s bloodstream will become half orange soda if someone doesn’t counteract his addiction.

Just as you’re setting the glasses down, there’s a knock on the door.

You jump. Your hand jerks, sending a manila folder flying to the floor, its confidential contents scattering behind the island on impact. Shit.

“Forgot my keys, babe!” Jake calls.

“Coming!”

Upon opening the door, a smiley Jake awaits you, holding a white cardboard box to his chest. The mouth watering aromas wafting from it don’t calm your cortisol levels.

His head tilts. “Why the long face?”

You step aside. “When you knocked, I jumped and slapped one of your files off the kitchen table. I’m sorry.”

His brow furrows. “It’s no problem.” He says, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re on edge.

“Everything spilled out.” You elaborate. Though you wouldn’t describe Jake as neat, he’s particular. Though the order of his files and notes are Greek to everyone else, it makes sense to him. He hates when someone “tidies” it without his permission.

Jake walks towards the kitchen. “Yeah, on the floor, not another dimension. It’s okay. Besides, it doesn’t need to be in any specific order– I closed that case today. I’m returning everything to the file room first thing.”

You trail behind him. “Did you close while I was uptown with Boyle?”

“Yep.” He plops the takeout box on the table. He kneels down to gather the rogue papers. “While you were out gathering evidence, I was cracking the code on this creep.”

Your eyebrows knit. “Sexual assault case?” You sort your take out into categories: his, hers, and shared.

Jake taps a stack of papers straight against a countertop. “Attempted. And he was a fucking high school teacher. Luckily, it was all on security cam. Easy win.”

The styrofoam carton of lamb samosas trembles in your hand. “That’s upsetting.”

“Majorly. Sadly, he’ll probably get off easy. I mean it was attempted. Not that it should’ve been full-on assault or that what happened isn’t terrible–”

“I understand what you mean, Jake.” You assure. It’s how sex crimes go.

You open your potato samosa carton. “These are the bomb dot com,” you say. It’s an easy lay up for him.

“That ass is the bomb dot com!” Your chest loosens at the change of topic.

You shoot Jake a glare. He puts his hands up.

He picks up the last of stray papers as you grab plates and utensils. When he’s done, he grabs the drink holder, your Pineapple Fanta and your pink lemonade each tucked in a cardboard slot. “Let’s go sit, m’lady.”

You reach for the drink holder with your free hand, but he twists his torso away. He nods towards the living room. “Relax. Pick a show. Remote’s on the coffee table.”

When Jake joins you on the couch, you immediately reach for your potato samosas.

“You weren’t kidding when you said those were your favorite.” Jake chuckles.

“Absolutely not. Try the lamb. They should be in the center– that’s the shared column.”

Jake affectionately rolls his eyes. “You treat life like an Excel spreadsheet.”

“Someone has to.” The cold condensation on your small pink lemonade chills your hand. “Hopefully, a detective would.”

He grabs his chest as if you struck him. “Your passive aggression is a stab to my heart!”

You pop open the container of jasmine rice. “What subject did that teacher teach?” You ask.

“The creeper?”

“Mhmm.”

Jake opens a container of chicken saagwala. “History.”

You hum disappointedly. “History teachers were always the coolest. Especially the male ones.” You stab your plastic fork into the rice and reach for the curry.

“Now I wish I slept less in history class.” Jake remarks.

You stare blankly at the coffee table as you spoon your (hopefully) extra spicy curry onto your plate.

The couch sighs as Jake sinks back into the cushions, his left arm stretching to lay behind you on the sofa’s back. “Such a scumbag. The girl was barely legal–could’ve been one of his own students. To make matters worse, she looked 16.”

In your head, you count your breaths. You zone in on the white grains of rice you’re absentmindedly pushing into your curry sauce.

You see your high school hallway. You remember the misery, the pressure. Mr. Johnston.

“You listening to me, babe?”

He taps your calf with the tip of his slide. You flinch.

“Sorry,” he says. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s alright.”

In your peripheral vision, he leans forward. “You okay?”

You nod. “I’m great.” You click on his TV. “Just got a bit lost in my thoughts for a second.”

You feel Jake studying your side profile.

You click on Netflix. “Let’s do something lighthearted.” You drop down to his My List. Thankfully, you don’t have to search long to find something passable.

“This one okay?” You ask. “I’ve been wanting to watch this too.”

“More than okay.”

The strings of the production company’s opening music fill the living room. You fiddle with your fork. Queasiness bites at you.

You need to shake this. This was your first sleepover with Jake. Don’t ruin this experience for yourself. It was so long ago. Nothing happened. It was uncomfortable, but you were alright. It was nowhere close to what that victim experienced. You’re fine. Is your asthma acting up?

You rest your plate on the coffee table. “Keep watching. I need the restroom real quick.”

You speed walk across the apartment to his bathroom, locking the door behind you. You turn the faucet to screeching cold. You dip your head into the basin and splash ice water in your face.

Your lungs gasp open from shock. Your brain drops back into your body.

Everything’s safe. You’re okay. Tonight will be great. Don’t let some creep going to trial rattle you like this and ruin the evening.

You find a clean towel in a drawer and dry your face. After taking a detour to his bathroom to toss it in his hamper, you take three final deep breaths, your hand over your heart.

You’re fine. Nothing’s happening.

You return to the couch with a soft smile. “Sorry, Jake.”

“No problem. You okay?” He asks again.

You hate lying to him. “Yeah, I just had to pee.”

The movie snaps back to action. Though you didn’t ask, he paused for you. As the film unfurls, as predicted, you poke fun at the plot and Jake ardently defends it. The banter warms you, but the knot in the pit of your stomach refuses to unfurl.

Once your plate is clean, you lay your head on Jake’s shoulder. As the leading actress does something you don’t register, Jake’s laughter ripples through your hollow chest.

It was so long ago. Nothing happened. It was uncomfortable, but you survived it. He never touched you. It was so long ago. He must be retired by now. It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing to be your fault. Nothing criminal happened. Nothing. It was so–

“(Y/N).”

You gasp. You snap up straight. The movie’s been paused.

“Sorry, I couldn’t get your attention.” Jake says gently.

Your heart sinks. “It’s…I’m just in my head.” You roughly run a hand through your hair. “So sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You stare at your knees.

Jake intertwines his fingers with yours. “It’s definitely substantial for you to be distracted like this.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m here.”

You smile sadly. “I don’t want to bring the vibe down.”

“Acquiring (Y/N) lore rivals catching bad guys as my favorite thing to do. Telling me about your feelings could never bring the vibe down. ”

A courteous dismissal gets tangled in your throat. Is that really what you want to say?

Your free hand fiddles with the end of your hair. “I really don’t know how to talk about this.”

“Take all the time you need.”

You force a deep breath. “Your case threw me off.”

His eyebrows knit. “The teacher–creep one?”

You nod. “The teacher…you said he harassed a young woman who looked 16.”

He nods.

“It reminds me of an experience I had in high school when I was 17.”

His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “How so?” He asks gently.

“There was… this science teacher– Mr. Johnston. One semester, I had to walk by his classroom everyday. I had to walk from my homeroom on the opposite end of the school, so sometimes I would get there right after the bell rang. When I was alone, he would always offer to walk me to class…even though it was only a couple doors down from his.”

Jake nods.

“He said he was trying to make sure I didn’t get in trouble for tardiness…but he never told my teacher he walked me. And he did it even after he knew I wouldn’t get in trouble and that I was only going two doors down from his classroom.”

“That’s definitely weird.”

“He also used to do this weird thing where he would walk right behind me…I think it was supposed to be copying my walk to tease me. One day, he came up super close behind me– close enough to smell my perfume. All I could think about was how close to my ass he was.”

Anger cuts through Jake’s expression. “Did anyone see this?”

“Some other teachers did. They didn’t see anything wrong with it…they laughed it off everytime. I guess they saw it as a harmless joke. But, it made me really uncomfortable. Everyday I would pray that he wouldn’t say hi to me or be weird and would just let me walk to class. I figured maybe I was crazy, making something out of nothing, but it just felt wrong. At the time, I tried to block it out, I had other stressors to deal with…but right after I graduated, I reflected on it and other stories I heard about him…and I was creeped out.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry. Did you ever report this?”

“I confided in another teacher about it, but I never formally reported anything. I don’t know if he ever talked to his colleague about his behavior. Plus, I didn't think there was anything concrete to report.” You sigh. “It felt so wrong. I remember being so afraid of being alone in a room with him…he was a co-advisor for some extracurriculars I was a part of. There, he was always completely indifferent towards me but in those hallways in the morning…”

“With less people.” Jake notes. “And colleagues who didn’t take his behavior seriously.”

You nod.

“(Y/N), I’m so, so sorry. That isn’t okay.”

“I’m still not really sure if anything did happen to me. He didn’t touch me….he just…”

Jake shakes his head. “Followed you down hallways and got close to your body. That’s not okay.” He squeezes your hand again. “How did it make you feel?”

“Violated.” You admit.

Jake nods. “That’s what matters. How he made you feel matters. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Tears well in your eyes. “Thanks, Jake.”

Jake offers you a tissue. “Do you know what ever happened to that teacher?”

You wipe your eyes. “I believe he retired…not 100% sure.”

His face hardens. “I can track him down if you like.”

“No, Jake…there’s nothing to report. No evidence. Just a dead-end case of “he said she said” from over 10 years ago. Even if I reported it earlier, I doubt anything could have happened.”

Jake groans. “This sucks. I’m sorry for what you went through. No one should feel uncomfortable with a teacher at school. Jesus, every time I think I get what women go through, I learn it’s worse than I imagined. I’m so, so sorry.”

You dab your eyes. “Thank you for not belittling what happened to me. It’s great to have someone like you...you don't downplay what I feel."

He kisses your nose. “It’s part of my boyfriend duties; it’s what I’m here for.”

You press a tender kiss to his lips. “Thank you for being a safe space to talk.”

He returns the peck. “Forever and always.”

Jake Peralta is a goofball. He can be messy– both literally and figuratively. But at the core of it all was a mensch’s heart.

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