One Of Them

One of Them

SCREAM VI SPOILERS !

A/n Just a little thing I wrote up that’s set up to have a part 2. This is inspired by the scene where Ethan talks about being excited to kill Chad,, but this is more of a set up and in part 2 we’ll see that lol

Summary: Ethan picks the worst time to develop a crush on one of the core four’s best friends. Especially when said best friend has been spending extra time around Chad. 

----

You swear you can feel the base of the music vibrating in your chest. Thump. Thump. Maybe it’s shifting the beat of your heart to match. Or maybe you should stop refilling the red solo cup in your hand before you can piece together how you downed it. 

Halloween weekend and a fraternity. Dangerous enough combination.

Blinking hard, you force your eyes to focus. You may not be sober, but at least you’re not so drunk you think you’re invincible. A bar some of your friends have surpassed...Tara brushed past you and barely mumbled a ‘sorry, getting more beer, you want anything?’ If you had felt any better, you might have told her to slow down.

When your vision refocuses, your eyes land on a familiar figure. Chad. It only takes you another second to find Ethan right next to him. Chad looks up and waves you over. 

Ah. The realization that you’re about to be around Ethan again makes you down the last of what’s in your cup. So much for pacing yourself for the rest of the night.

You walk over casually. Unfortunately for you, the rush of additional alcohol paired with the toxic waste zone that is the ground of the fraternity makes your shoes lose traction just as you lose balance. You slip. 

“Woah...” Chad’s hand is warm and steady on your waste as he saves you from a total wipeout. “You might want to mix in some water between the shots those sorority girls keep getting you to do.”

Normally, you’d feel awkward, but Chad’s so inherently nice it doesn’t come. Sure, the alcohol’s helping, but at least half of your sense of ease comes from him. You half grin. “Where’s the fun in that?” Chad doesn’t let go of you until you’re clearly stable. “Kidding. I promise I’m trying to ease up.” 

He briefly raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t quite believe you. “Sure.” 

“You’re one to talk, Ethan and you have been drinking since before we got here.”

“It’s called pregaming.” 

Ethan tilts his head slightly, “For the record, I don’t mind watching you take shots with the sisters of whatever those Greek letters were.” 

There’s something almost comical, almost suggestive about his words. You’re too out of it to fully follow. “Yeah? You looking for a member of Kappa Kappa whatever Elle Woods was in?” 

Ethan blinks, parts his lips, and then halfheartedly drops his head. Is he...flustered? The display is oddly cute and you nearly laugh. 

Chad warmly bumps Ethan’s shoulder with his hand. “Nah, my boy Ethan’s looking for...” A brief trail off that once again, you think you’d be able to get if it wasn’t for all you had to drink. “Something else.” 

The spirit of over drinking must possess you, because you grin and ask, “Yeah? You more the settling down type?” It’s not violently bold, but it’s more than you usually give. More than you would have gone for if you had been more sober. You laugh to cover your regret. “That was um...more vodka than me.” You shake your head once as if that will reset the conversation. “Oh. Speaking of settling down, Chad I um...” 

You freeze, wondering if you said too much. Chad has taken to having a roommate well. He drags Ethan along and pushes him out of his comfort zone in a way that you think is good for him. You also think Ethan is good for keeping Chad a little stable. You know they’re friendly, friendlier than Ethan is with anyone else, but you don’t know if they’re close enough to talk about crushes. More specifically, the crush Chad has on Tara. The one you’ve been trying to help him think of a good way to confess because he labeled you the ‘Tara expert’ since the two of you became such fast friends.

“The project.” Nice. It was nowhere near subtle and you can’t help shooting a glance in Ethan’s direction to see that if he picked up on it. Ah--too late to keep going. “I have something that--that has to do with it that we--that I need to show you.”

Chad’s eyebrows draw together but eventually realization draws in. “Oh...yeah, I should go see what that project thing’s about.” It’s a faulty exit, but it’s not like you’ve given him much to work with. 

The alcohol turns in your stomach at Ethan’s flat expression. That was kind of an asshole move, like you’re trying to purposefully leave him out when you just didn’t want to out your friend. Chad trusted you with a secret that’s a bigger deal than it seems. Liking Tara isn’t as casual as liking anyone else because of how bonded their friend group is. The four of them need each other. It’s a situation much too delicate for an unsober you to insert yourself in.

“Hey, Ethan.” You’re already walking forward, feeling nervous about the Tara situation. You should have gotten to this faster. You didn’t like the frat guy she was with. “We’re still on for tomorrow? Studying?” 

His head tilts and you briefly wonder if you’ve somehow more awkward. “Uh--I’m not sure you’re going to be up for econ homework tomorrow.” 

“That’s okay,” you hum easily, “I’ll call you and we can figure it out, even if it’s just getting hangover food together.” 

Ethan’s confusion slowly morphs into what’s almost a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you.”

You don’t have a way to justify how excited that makes you. Maybe it’s the alcohol. You really hope it’s the alcohol that’s making you grin like a little kid. “Cool.” 

Someone steps froward, accidentally bumping into you and reminding you of the setting. Right. Party. Tara. Weird frat guy. Chad. You turn your head and grab on to Chad’s arm to stay stable. “C’mon, we need to find Tara. Serious SOS.” 

----

The world shared in your chaos for a brief second. Some frat guy grabbed Tara too harshly, Chad got him to back off, and Sam burst in and tased the guy. Everyone pulled out their phones and then all it took was one reddit loser to recognize Sam. They’re all trying to leave and you’re half stranded on a couch that’s weirdly damp because you’re not sure you can still move. 

“I know you don’t want to be here but we can’t just leave her!” You hear that from somewhere behind you. Tara. 

Sam begrudgingly sighs. “I--I didn’t say we should leave her!” 

You want to defend her, the words angling themselves on your tongue. They never come out. Your eyelids are too heavy and your bones have sunken too far into the couch. Sam isn’t the kind of person to leave a friend on a sticky couch when they’re too far gone to even fully lift their head, but the reality of it all doesn’t feel relevant. 

Maybe she would leave you. Maybe they’d both come around to that. It’s not like you’re their sister or a part of their little...survivor inner circle. 

God, that’s a fucked up thing to think, even in the state you’re in, but you can’t help it. The impulse is always there. That doubt. You know why they’re all so close and there’s no way you’re jealous about what they’ve experienced but sometimes being around and knowing that there’s a distinction is hard. Especially because they’re the only people you care about. Maybe that’s why you try so hard with Ethan. You know what it’s like to be a part of it and separate all at once. 

“I can take her.” Another voice, a newer, softer voice. Almost hesitant. Ethan. “To the apartment, make sure she gets there okay.”

"I think we should just do it,” Tara mumbles, “We have to go home anyway.” 

There’s a beat of silence and then Chad says, “It’ll be easier if we send them ahead...you two seem too tense to be be dealing with her right now.”

Ugh. Dealing with. You turn your head in an attempt to lift it off the couch. It briefly works before you slump down again. “Hey.” 

“Said with love, you’re a free spirit.” 

You try again, and this time it’s a little more successful. “’Free spirit’ is what you called that girl that offered to blow you in the bathroom.” 

He sighs. “Don’t be difficult.” 

“Difficult?” 

“Okay,” Sam interjects, because she knows how you and Chad get when you start bickering, “Ethan can take her, I think we need to take a second to talk about--” 

“Whatever,” Tara sighs, already walking away. She turns her head to look at Ethan, “If she’s not safe in bed by the time I get home I will fuck you up.” Sam and Chad throw her a look. “What? It’s not like we’ve known him forever.” 

----

You stumble into your room with an overwhelming awareness of how much you love the space. You were the last one to join the apartment, not starting school during the summer session and not finding the online roommate wanted ad before Quinn, but it feels like you could have lived a lifetime here already.

“We made it.” 

Ethan’s arm is still around your shoulders. He pulled you close to him after a stranger on the street looked at your Halloween costume a little too long and tried to talk to you. The whole thing had been awkward as the stranger kept calling after you and for a brief second you could have sworn Ethan’s eyes lose all hint of their usual warmth. You didn’t think about it, assuming it was just one of those guy, testosterone things. It should have bothered you more. But it didn’t. You felt safe, secure as you leaned into him and his warmth.

“Barely.” It’s said half teasing as Ethan lets you go to sit on your bed. He leans forward and sets down the cardboard helmet he took off on your walk on your desk.

You pretend to be more offended than you feel, crossing over to your bed and sitting down next to him. “Don’t be rude.” Nudging his arm with your shoulder, you half laugh, “I was awesome with directions.” 

He leans his weight back on his forearm. “You were...awesome.” It’s half whispered, almost begrudging and a little shy. 

You grin openly, leaning a little closer to him to compensate for his quiet town. “Thanks for...walking me.”

Ethan watches you for a second, following your lead in shifting a little closer. Your foreheads are practically touching and you can feel the barely-there brush of his curls against your skin. “Why are you whispering?” 

Like he isn’t whispering back. “I don’t know. You started it.” 

He briefly smiles, an expression that he fights against poorly. You’re left with the odd feeling that you’re winning even though you can’t figure out exactly what the game is. “I started it?” 

“Don’t try to confuse me just because I had more to drink than you.”

He holds his hands up in defense briefly before setting them down closer than they were before. His palm is flat against the back of yours. It’s so warm and certain, so much more soothing than the state you’re in. You’re still buzzed, because you turn over your hand slowly, half scared that a too sharp move will ruin all of this. Ethan lets you. He also lets you fit your fingers between his. 

For a second, you two just sit there in silence, hands loosely held together. The sound of your door being thrown open instantly turns the whole thing into something a lot larger. You don’t know why, but everything about the situation burns beyond a comfortable warmth and into something uncomfortably scorching. You push yourself to the edge of your bed and make a point of squeezing your hands on your lap as you turn to face the door. 

Tara’s standing there, leaning against the doorframe. Her expression morphs from nearly blank with shock to a much more straightforward concern. “You...” She drops her gaze to the new space between you and Ethan. “...Guys need to see the news.” 

would y’all feel betrayed if i ever wrote about other scream characters/ghostfaces ?? bc ive been rewatching some of the movies and scream VI was so good and it has me thinking lol

but billy and stu will always be the number one boyfriends on this blog trust!!

i feel like as stu, billy, and readers relationship progresses, a song that would be perfect to describe them could be only girl by rihanna

like,,,,,tell me it doesn’t fit. i know damn well that their eyes are only for reader

it is SO THEM!

as soon as they accept that they feel that attachment/bond, it's all over and they're fully in, as the story progresses they just become more ride or die lol (which we'll see a lot more of soon)

Pulling Away

A/n did i write smut for once? yeah. also timeline wise is this perfectly accurate? it’s iffy,, but this fic isn’t about the plot too much so it’s okay

Summary: You’re not the only one that’s feeling a little territorial thanks to the influx of people you’re around in Jackson. 

warnings: 18+, implied age gap, no condom, a tiny bit manipulative if you squint, brief mention of losing virginity.

----

He’s not a force of nature, no matter how hard he might pretend to be for the sake of those around him. Joel can’t actually change anything. So the shift in temperature you feel as Joel stills has to be a byproduct of what’s in your head. 

The kind of burning cold that better fits a fever runs through you and you hate yourself for it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been delusional when it comes to him. 

You’re working off of a quarter of his face against low lighting. It doesn’t make sense for you to be able to feel so much from the little of him that you can see. It’s not anger. Or at least, not just that. There’s definitely a subdued rage radiating from him, but it’s undercut by something that punches you straight in the gut. 

Maybe you’re being a little unfair, but you have a right to it at this point. You can’t follow him around blindly like some kind of puppy forever. Especially now that you’re both settled enough to be able to think of things outside of pure survival.

“Ellie’s asleep.” A flat observation that you can’t explain. Maybe it’s the need to break the silence, or maybe it’s a genuine attempt at making things feel normal. You two should still be able to talk. You never wanted that to end. “Swore she wasn’t tired, but passed out as soon as her head touched the mattress.” 

Joel lets out a small sound from the back of his throat. It’s a spike in the atmosphere. “Think I’m gonna go to bed, too.” You don’t understand your awkwardness or the urge to create distance. It’s not like Joel would hurt you, but then again, the buzz of adrenaline doesn’t seem to be coming from a place of fear. It’s an uneasy burning that worsens when you raise your eyes enough to meet his. “Night.” 

The one word is a little better and somehow so much worse. Not aggressive or trying to make things better. It’s just there. Civil. 

When he says nothing, you take it as your sign to call it a night. Tomorrow could be better. Sure, your rocky dynamic might be going through growing pains while you set boundaries that should have been established long ago, but you’ll likely survive this. You’re all staying together in the same house in Jackson for the time being and you both care too much about Ellie to separate over something small. 

Even if Joel won’t directly admit to it, the part of your relationship that feels like co-parenting is sacred. That’s part of the reason why the feelings you’ve been fighting with yourself to dismantle are so complicated. He cares about Ellie more than he wants to admit and the last thing you need right now is to tear away the little stability she’s finally been given. Not over a few awkward conversations and stiff moments. 

The weird irony that vaguely reflects the issues of the world before isn’t lost on you. If someone were to squint at the situation, you’d seem like a wife trapped in a marriage for the sake of her children. Maybe if it was happening to someone else you’d have enough energy to find it funny. 

You turn carefully, like a too loud squeak of your shoes could be what snaps the thinning thread tying you two to a hint of casualness. You don’t need to pass him to get to where you’re sleeping. The three of you had been set up in a space that allowed for each person to have their own room. It’s like that in theory, but in practice it’s more like Ellie’s room, Joel’s room, and the spare. 

A comfortable enough bedroom that you’ve maybe spent the entire night alone in twice in the weeks you’ve been here. You can’t even pretend that you keep the few things you own in there either. Joel’s an even lighter traveler than you, so slowly your items made their way into the drawers in his room. Now, your room is basically just where you go to change into and out of sleepwear.

You’ll get used to it, used to the draft that originally led to you giving up on rocky sleep the first night you ended up sleeping next to Joel. Your dreams kept you up even more than the cold, but when Joel’s drowsy voice called out to you in the dark, asking why you were awake, you blamed the night’s chill. That’s how it first happened. 

It was a mistake you should have never let turn into habit. You’re correcting it now. Setting boundaries to prevent heartbreak. It’s only a matter of time considering the way the women here look at him.

“Since when do you sleep in there?”

His voice is so gruff it instinctually freezes you. Any sarcastic comment at the back of your throat vanishes immediately. The both of you are fully aware of how you end up each night, but it’s a boundary in itself not to mention it. You’re not sure if it’s more him or you, but what happens at night and early in the morning is never mentioned.

It’s a dip into another reality. A space where Joel’s a little lighter, almost more open. Sometimes he’ll drag your arm with him when he moves onto his side, a silent way of asking you to stay close. On the best nights, he’ll joke about it, letting your limbs meld together under a blanket and swear he’s just trying to keep you warm out of the kindness of his heart. 

His humor is the worst. The kind that some might justify as a result of years of it being at a stalemate for years considering the tragic state of the world, but you know better. They’re the kind of jokes that take a second to settle because of his general exterior, but are meant to be so dumb they force out a smile. In another life, the little comments are dad jokes.

The peace bleeds into the mornings now, he’ll keep the closeness and remind you that you don’t have to get up immediately by mumbling something about Ellie still being asleep. Like she’s the only thing significant enough to get you two to return to reality. 

You’re convinced that these moments exist because neither of you mention them. He’s crossing a line you didn’t realize meant so much to you and he’s being dramatic it, too. It’s not the rarest thing for you to ‘attempt’ to sleep in your own bed. Sure, you’re more likely to lay in that room for a few hours on nights where Ellie stays up a little later, but this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve done. 

He’s ripping any chance of returning to that separate world away from you. It stings more than it should. “Thought I’d give it a try,” you voice is too low, too defensive, “It’s not a big deal.” 

The defense sounds so weak in your own ears, you don’t even want to imagine what he took from it. “Bullshit.”

His voice comes out in such a low huff you feel it more than hear it. If the sound had felt any less dangerous, you would have pretended to mistake it for another wordless grunt. Your lips part slowly as your mind struggles to create any kind of logical response. 

Pretending is clearly getting you nowhere. The only reason you ever pretended it would was pure delusion. Joel has always been able to see through you, through any shift in mood. Even when your lies are better, his ability to sense them is uncanny. 

He turns with no warning. Joel crosses the space between you before you can even fully register his steps. Your body tenses as heat rushes to your face in result of an oddly charged parody of fight or flight. You almost step back, one heel shifting back, but then you meet his gaze and the determined glint behind his eye is enough to melt you into place. 

There’s something else there, too. A focus that pins you into place even further. Holds you there better than the barrel of a pistol could. 

The absurdity of the warmth rooted in your chest should be enough to make the feeling go away. It doesn’t, so you force your lips to part again. You need to say something. Anything. “Joel?” Not that. Not just his name in a voice that feels violently small. 

“You’re pullin’ away.” 

The accusation in his voice leaves no room for argument. You try anyways, “No.” The rest of your thoughts can’t come out while you’re looking at him at the same time. There’s shame in dropping your gaze to focus on your shoes and the little space between you. “It’s not like that.” 

Joel lets out a low sound. The creak of the floor as he steps forward again snaps you out of your trance. You step back in a desperate attempt to keep the space between the two of you equal. Your back hits the wall before you can come close to achieving your goal. It’s a knee jerk reaction that leaves your face feeling even warmer than before. A part of you expects Joel to laugh at the sound or at least comment on it. He doesn’t. He continues forward until his mouth is so close to your ear the warmth of his breath lingers when he exhales. 

He takes a second there, relishing in your stillness. “Don’t lie to me.” Joel pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. “You don’t want to talk to me, you’re talkin’ about leavin’.” The southern drawl of his voice is increasing with his frustration. It’s distracting in a way that feels too convenient. Like he’s doing this on purpose. 

You swallow once. “You found your brother. I have a sister out there, I’d--I think now that things are more settled with Ellie it wouldn’t be the worst thing for me to look for her.” 

“And you don’t want us goin’ with you, but you’re more than willing to let the guy that’s always lookin’ at you--” 

“Oh my god, is that what this is about?” You are insane. Of course his issue is who mentioned it. John knows travel, leaves Jackson and comes back in one piece when he needs to. He wouldn’t be the worst person to have with you if you did want to start a rudimentary search for your sister. “I didn’t make any plans with John, it just came up.” 

“You don’t want us goin’ with you.” 

Your throat feels dry. The thought of it makes you feel cold. You haven’t seen your sister in a few years and so much has changed. You’re no longer in the QZ and your sister has no way of knowing that. She can’t reach out if there’s trouble or good news and she has no reason to assume that you’re safe. You know where she lives, and if she’s not there, you know a few of her usual spots. She doesn’t typically stray too far from her bubble. It wouldn’t be a long trip, just long enough. 

Long enough to give you some space. Long enough to remember what it’s like to not be around Joel all the time. Long enough to feel less about him. 

And you’d come back. You wouldn’t just walk out of his life and Ellie’s forever. The little bit of space you’re trying to get would make it easier for you to stick around in the long run because it’s the only way you can think to get rid of the feelings that are trying to ruin everything. 

“We haven’t been here that long and Ellie’s finally starting to feel settled. I don’t want to drag her out of that yet and make her feel like her entire life is just going to be her being dragged around the country.” 

Your words are a jumble, rushed together in a way that makes the honesty of them less effective. It’s a good point. Ellie just called her room hers the other day and even asked about moving the bed against a different wall.

Joel lets out a low breath, eyes hardening. “You’re right. She’s settlin’ and she needs you.” He knows he’s hit his mark when you don’t respond. “How do you think she’s gonna take the news that you’re leaving?” 

“Leaving to visit my sister.” You struggle to swallow. “Temporarily. It’ll take less than two weeks.” 

His lips pull into a frown as his eyebrows together. Moody and brooding. The look you’ve openly referred to as his old man scowl. “With John.” 

Ugh. This again. Why does it matter? Yes, John will be there, but it’s not like it’s just you and John. Your sister isn’t that far and she has access to supplies that aren’t common, she has an understanding with people that have easy access to medical supplies. 

But even if it was just you and John, it doesn’t matter. There are a lot of areas in which you factor in Joel’s opinion, but this is definitely not one of them. You two aren’t together and with the way he does nothing to show any discontent when the girls here start to look at him, he definitely doesn’t need you keeping his bed warm at night. 

“If I go, he wouldn’t be the only one there.” The fact that you’re trying to justify John’s presence leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re a grown woman, free to associate with whoever you want. You might jokingly call him your old man from time to time, but he has no right. “And if even if he was, what does it matter?” 

His jaw locks and the downwards tilt of his chin erases the little bit of confidence you’ve managed to build. “You’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”

You have to bite your tongue to avoid from blurting out that he’s also seen the way majority of the women you see on a daily basis look at him. Joel’s also exaggerating. John does not have any feelings for you, and if he did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like you see John as anything more than a friend. But even if you did--it is not his business. At all. 

“He doesn’t.” There’s little point in saying that, Joel’s not one to have his mind so easily swayed and he’s been wary of John since the beginning. Sometimes it even feels like the more you insist that he’s a good friend, the more Joel seems to dislike him. “And if he did, it doesn’t matter.” 

Your words feel like a retreat they shouldn’t need to be. Small, the meaning of the sentence compacted and straining against the limited syllables. A part of you expects Joel to understand what you do mean. That it doesn’t matter because it takes two interested parties to form any kind of relationship. That your mind isn’t even there in terms of feeling safe...that the only person who has ever made you feel safe enough to imagine anything beyond friendship is right in front of you. 

For the first time, Joel doesn’t pick up on the relevance of what isn’t said. You can feel his lack of understanding in the way he moves, placing one hand on the wall, near your head. You blink, trying in vain to explain the motion, explain his proximity. He’s caging you in. 

The heat of his body is practically inescapable, amplified by the way he smells. Joel showered a little earlier, his natural scent combining pleasantly with that of plain soap. After so many nights next to him, you would think you would have developed a tolerance. You haven’t. And even if you did, you doubt it’d matter...this is different. Dizzying. 

“Doesn’t matter?” 

He’s somehow even closer and somehow not touching you. The realization that that’s the worst part of this leaves your stomach fluttering. You need the feeling gone, so you force out the first words that come to mind, “It matters as much as all the girls that look at you like that.” 

It feels more bitter than it comes out, leaving a metallic taste on your tongue. You need out. You need space. You need sleep. Joel’s silence feels like opportunity, so as subtly as you can you try to shift away from the wall. Your back is off the wall for less than a second before you’re pushed back against it. 

Your body hits the wall before you can realize that Joel’s hand is on your hip. There’s too much surprise for that fact to settle, so you look up at him almost bewildered. You expect him to let go or at least look somewhat apologetic. He does the opposite, moving the hand on the wall under your jaw and closing the distance between you in a motion so quick you can barely register it. 

His mouth is on yours before your mind can catch up. It makes no difference to him. He’s rabid in his patience, taking what he wants without forcing your lips to part. His hand squeezes your hip and all at once it connects. You gasp and Joel pins you to the wall even more securely, deepening the kiss with an expert’s ease. 

It lasts until you can’t breathe and ends with his teeth grazing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. “All of this,” the words are exhaled lowly, “’Cause you’re jealous.” 

The kiss left you so light headed your first instinct is to just agree. To not think and do or say whatever you need to in order to get him that close again. But his tone is too sure, too teasing, and the implication isn’t something he can just get away with. “Jealous?” His smugness is hard to take with him holding you against the wall like this. It’s too vulnerable, like this might be some kind of game to him. It makes you feel transparent. Hollow. “Fuck whoever you want, I don’t care.” 

It’s like you’ve said nothing until Joel has the audacity to squeeze your hip. “Whoever I want?” His hand shifts up your hip, your shirt moving with him. “Hm.” His hum settles beneath your skin, effectively silencing you as his eyes take their time raking over your face and down your body. “Those were some big words from you.” 

Heat rushes to your face. It’s ridiculous--you curse more than that on a regular basis. He’s playing into context, too aware of what he’s doing. The urge to push burns twice as hard as buzzing in your chest. “They’re true. We’re not--we’re not anything, so if I want to go with--” 

“I’m not losin’ you.” There’s a desperation in there that comes out so hard it circles back to vulnerable. “You wanna go see your sister, we go see your sister. That’s how we got through everything else.” The hand on your hip moves down, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of your shorts. You hate yourself a little for the way your breath audibly catches. “Understand?” 

His hand lowers even further, long fingers pressing against the fabric of your underwear. You’re not breathing right and you can’t bring yourself to care. The only thing you can think of is closer. “Y-yes.” 

“’Yes’ what?” No sympathy in his voice or anything that would give away that he has a hand shoed down your pants. 

His touch picks up pace, rubbing against you until a whimper escapes your lips. “Yes, sir.”

Joel moves his hand away with no warning. The whine that escapes your lips doesn’t feel like your own. He’s barely touched you and you’re already like this. “Barely touched you and you’re already listening.” He hooks two fingers in between the band of your underwear. “Should’ve done this awhile again, then.” 

You’re burning all over, the only thing you can manage is a quick, “Shut up.” It lacks any bite. 

He pulls at the band of our underwear, letting it snap back into place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d consider the flash of something softer across his face as amusement. “If you want me to stop, you’ve gotta tell me.” 

Your nod feels desperate. Your entire body feels desperate. For the way he kissed you, the way he touched you. “I-I’ll tell you.” He’s still not moving, not doing anything. It’s some sort of punishment. It has to be. “Joel...” 

“You going to say ‘please’?” 

You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then his fingers hook around your underwear again. A promise. “Please, Joel.” This is all unfamiliar but you trust Joel to get what you want, what you need. “Need you.” 

With no warning, he yanks down your shorts and underwear. They fall down your legs and you blindly kick them to the side. “Need me?” He tilts his head down, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek, then two to your jaw. “Need me where, sweetheart?” 

God. Anywhere. Everywhere. Your desperation reminds you of how incredibly unfair it is that you’re already down to just our t-shirt and Joel’s still fully dressed. You move your hand slowly, carefully tugging at whatever piece of clothing on him you can reach. 

He’s unimpressed. “C’mon, use your big girl words.” His hand is in between your thighs, his fingers teasing at your entrance in a way that makes it impossible to focus on anything else. “You were usin’ them just fine a second ago.” 

“Joel,” he kisses your jaw again, forcing away all train of thought. It has to be intentional. “Joel,” again, too soft. 

“I know,” he exhales the words against your neck, “I know, sweetheart. Need me to take care of you.” Joel doesn’t wait for a reaction, just pushes his fingers fully into you. You gasp too loudly, Joel moves his free hand over your mouth. “Be a good girl and be quiet. Can’t wake up Ellie.” 

Shit. How did you not think of that? “You’ll be good and quiet for me? Let me stretch you out a bit first?” There’s a knot in your stomach that’s slowly taking over all of your senses. As long as Joel keeps working at it, you could promise him anything. You nod against the palm of his hand. 

You bite your tongue to keep from whimpering too loudly. “Need you to relax,” he presses into you even more firmly, “Get you ready for me.” 

He slowly eases his hand off of your face. “Joel, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, you just know you need more. You want him to consume you entirely. Feel him until he’s all there is.

You hear the sound of a belt buckle and his jeans shifting. Instinctually, you move a hand towards him, wanting to help, wanting to feel him. “There’ll be time for that, right now it’s about you.” You’re about to argue when he skillfully adds another finger. Fuck. “You’re tight,” he breathes, “No one’s ever touched you here?” 

His fingers curl inside of you and you have to burry your face into the fabric of his shirt to keep from crying out. “Only you.” 

“Look who’s found her manners.” He’s picking up the pace and smoothing down your hair as you squirm against him. “Should’ve done this sooner.” Just as the coil in your lower stomach tightens, Joel takes his hand back. 

You push yourself off of him, staring at him with an expression you know he’ll consider pouting. “Why’d you--” 

“Because I want you to remember this.” He pushes you back to the wall, pressing his body against you. The head of his cock brushes against your entrance. With no warning, he pushes into you. Your sharp gasp overlaps with Joel’s low groan. “Y’need a man to fuck the attitude out of you.” He moves slowly, the friction unbelievably overwhelming and somehow not enough. “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with you.” 

Joel presses you further into the wall, sinking into you as deep as possible before pulling out just to sink back in. His pace is even until his breathing picks up. You’re a mess against him, hiding your face in his chest when he starts fucking you with full force.

“You’re squeezing me so good.” Joel practically pants the words into your skin. “Fuck, ‘m going to--you gonna finish with me, sweetheart?” 

Your mind is mush, you can barely nod against him as his thrusts start to lose their focus. You’re pushed over the edge as Joel’s teeth graze against your neck. He pulls at your orgasm, dragging it along until your legs are jelly and he’s pulling out in order to not finish inside you. 

The two of you stay holding onto each other for what feels like a long time and not enough. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, okay?”

You pull your head off of him enough to look him in the eye. “Not without you.” 

He smiles, lines that you can imagine kissing forever etching themselves into his skin. “That’s my girl.” Joel runs a hand up and down your back fondly. “Let’s go to bed,” he presses a kiss against your jaw, “Give me the space to properly appreciate you.”

The thought makes your body burn all over again. “You sure you aren’t tired out, old man?” 

Joel huffs out what’s almost a laugh, “We’ll see who’s tiring who out, sweetheart.” 

I know this sounds crazy but I really enjoy your writing and a looking for a beta reader for my fic I just posted to my blog. I’m new to the genre and looking for any help I can get

hi! doesn't sound crazy at all, i'm so glad you thought of me and i'd love to :) anyone that knows me in real life knows i love giving feedback on writing lol

i've never been a beta reader before so if there's anything specific you're looking for or a specific way you want me to share my thoughts, pls feel free to send another ask or DM,

my only thing is that i'm on a family trip rn so i likely won't be able to give much insight until wednesday at the earliest, but if that's okay then i'm all for it!!

That last fic you did? DELICIOUS.

thank you love :)