#(internalized in -pretty darlin’-)
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Pure Instinct - Surrender
okay so i've been seeing those tiktok ads about that Pure-Instinct perfume and I had A Thot- it was originally supposed to go a different route, but i kinda went everywhere with this LOL.
summary: no outbreak; you bought a new perfume, one that's supposed to entice the opposite sex. but just how well does it actually work?
warnings: MDNI- smut (unprotected p-in-v), joel being a bit of a horndog, semi-desperate sex, oral (f receiving), use of 'good girl' and pet names (darlin', baby, pretty girl, honey), a bit of bulge riding, slight dom!joel, established relationship, no age specification for reader- lemme know if i forgot anything! - also please note i’m getting back into writing. i’m a lil rusty and still getting back into the flow of things; apologies for any mistakes.
w.c.: 2.7k
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All over the internet you've come across different videos advertising some 'pheromone perfume-' a blend of essential oils that are meant to work with your own natural scent, enhancing your body's pheromones- or something of the sort. Seeing the men become infatuated with their girlfriends and wives, clinging to them with lust-blown pupils certainly had your interest piqued.
After an- albeit, quick- internal debate with yourself, you bit the bullet and looked up the seller's site, coming across different smells like 'Crave,' 'Lucky,' 'Fallen-'
And 'Surrender.'
Sounds sexy. With a smirk you click on it, reading the description,
'Surrender has a sophisticated and mature scent which designed for the woman who wants to feel confident, beautiful, and sensual. Own any room you enter in. You won't just be noticed — you'll make heads turn. Sexy, but not vulgar.'
Sounds dominant.
There were different layers of notes, like magnolia, mandarin, vanilla, sandalwood; the list went on. Seemed like a good choice. You were about to add it to your cart, finger hovering over the button, but then you hesitated. Did you really need this? Was it that important to find out if it was worth the hype? To see if Joel would be unable to tear himself away from you, kissing you hungrily while ripping your clothes off an-
Added to your cart!
It was for science.
You even opted to pay extra for express shipping, heart racing with a giddy bite of your lip.
The day it arrived, you were practically bouncing on your feet with glee. Joel was at work, wouldn't be home for another hour or so. That meant you had plenty of time to get things together and play around with it.
Taking a quick shower then pulling a low cut shirt over your head and shimmying a pair of leggings on, you grabbed your little container of liquid-luck, rolling it over your heat points; a little between your breasts, behind your ears, along the crook of your neck, wrists, and fold of your arms. It definitely smelled alluring upon first apply. Now to let it dry and wait.
-
Keys jingled outside the door, the knob twisting a few times before the entrance swung open followed by a rather exhausted looking Joel Miller who stumbled through. The man heaved a heavy sigh as he tossed his keys into the dish and toed of his shoes before padding to the couch where you sat, pushing your cuticles back as you watched a rerun of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer.
"Hi, sugar," you greet, flicking your eyes to him as he flopped down, making you bounce softly. His hair was damp with sweat from being out in the hot Texas sun all day, thick veins protruding from his work-callused hands, trailing up his arm.
"Hm," he grunted in reply and placed his palms over his eyes as he leaned against the back of the couch, chest expanding with a deep breath only to falter for a split second. Joel took in another breath, this one loud and deliberate. With hands lowering from his face, he turned his head to you, slowly, with knit brows.
"D'ya smell that?" He asked, sniffing again with a curious glance of the room.
Now, you had to play this right. You couldn't just outright tell him you bought perfume that would have him slobbering all over you, no. That would defeat the purpose of your little experiment.
So instead you played coy and sniffed at the air just as he did, nose turning up with a gentle shake of your head and small bob of your shoulders.
"I don't smell anything."
He nods slowly, eyes narrowing with a slight slack of his jaw, tongue poking through the side of his teeth while he studied you.
"You don't smell that?" Joel pressed further, almost exasperatedly.
"Smell what, Joel?" A quiet titter sounded with your words, brows arching as an amused grin toyed at your lips.
"Jus'..." Joel trailed off, wetting his lip with a quick swipe of his tongue. The scent wasn't too overbearing. It was sweet, musky, and a hint of something so conversant. Something that always managed to get him hot under the collar. A heat that not even the dry summers he endured on a frequent basis could compare to.
That's when you leaned over him- totally not at all planned- reaching an arm past to grab one of the magazines on the end table. Joel drew another quick breath and it hit him. Before you could retreat he snatched your wrist with a tight grip, pupils dilated widely with parted lips. " 'S' you..." He murmured, attention solely on you and you alone.
The corner of your mouth twitched up into a smug smirk, "Is it?" You hushed back, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin as he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist, slowly trailing up your arm and to your shoulder. A curt chuckle sounded from his chest as his own lips turned up. "Mm, I think so, baby," Now his lips danced on the crook of your neck, taking another whiff.
'Oh, fuck, that's good.' He thought, emitting a low growl.
"Yeah..." He purred, teeth grazing over your pulse point and eliciting a quiet moan from you, "that's alllll you, darlin'."
Hell, if Joel was tired before, he was certainly up now- in more ways than one.
"C'mere, pretty girl," He muttered and sat back, legs spread as he motioned two fingers in your direction. He watched with hungry intent as you crawled into his lap, thighs straddling his. Joel pawed at your hips, rolling them forward against the bulge straining in the confinements of his jeans with a grunt.
"Got me so damn hard an' ya haven't even done anything," With another forced roll, he throws his head back with a sigh. "Ride." He ordered with a strained voice, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You didn't move just yet, however, and took in the sight of him; eyes shut and brows knitted softly, plush lips parted.
"Ride," Joel repeated with a firm smack to the meat of your ass, making you yelp and rut against him once more. You could feel the warm thickness of his cramped length through the thin cloth of your leggings, each continuous grind against your clit made you writhe in pleasure.
Good god, you were doing a number on him. He bucked his hips up in time with yours, panting faintly before sitting up and wrapping his thick, strong arms around your body.
Joel buried his nose into your neck again, allowing your enticing scent to flood his mind. His stomach tightened, and he had to pull you off his lap before he came in his underwear like a damn teen. You whine at the loss of friction, expression forming a soft pout as he laid you down, head against the armrest.
"I know, baby, I know," Joel cooed and tenderly cupped your jaw, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, " 'M gonna take care'a ya." He leaned down and planted a quick peck to the side of your nose.
"Always do, don't I?"
The man lowered himself down your body, hands stopping to caress and grab every now and then before slipping his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, swiftly tugging them down and watched as a string of arousal pulled, connecting the fabric to your lips. He smirked, relishing the fact you were just as turned on as he was, but what really caught his attention was-
"No panties?" He quirked a brow, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face as he continued shimmying you out of your pants. "Y'had this planned, didn't ya?"
You chuckled, biting your lip meekly and avert your gaze. Whoops! Caught.
"So, what is it?" He asked, curling a leg into the couch as the other planted on the floor, his head dipping to your center and placed an open-mouthed kiss to the inner crease of your hip.
"Surrender," You answered breathily, peering down at him as continued lavishing you with loving smooches and pecks, his wiry facial hair scratching at your body that only fanned the flames in your tummy.
His brows drew together with a vague frown as he lifted his head, "Whaddya think I'm tryin' ta do right now?"
Even though his words made you clench around nothing, you still couldn't help but laugh and bring a hand to your mouth to stop yourself. With a shake of your head you say, "No, dummy. I mean, that's the name of the perfume I bought."
Joel tilted his head back in a slight nod, uttering a soft 'Ohhh.'
"I dunno how I was s'posed ta know that," his head lowered once more, breath fanning over your wet heat and flicked his eyes to meet yours, "but it's fitting."
He didn't even give you a chance to process what he said before diving straight into your folds, tongue lapping over every crevice and drinking you down.
"O-oh, fu-fuck!" You breathed out, thighs instinctively closing around his head as your hand grasped at his sweat-matted brown hair.
He growled into your cunt, bracing his hands on either side of the soft, pillowy flesh of your legs and forcing you open again. Normally, Joel loved using them as his own personal pair of earmuffs, but now? He wanted you spread for him, needed it actually. He'd drown in you if he could, and by god he'd willingly die trying.
His mouth detached for a moment, just long enough for him to stick out his tongue and let a string of drool fall over your labia, watching with a satisfied smirk as it slid down to your entrance. Snaking a hand from under your thigh, he brought two fingers to your clit, brushing the pads of them over it with teasing glides. Your hips twitched and bucked with a soft mewl leaving your throat.
Joel dragged his bottom lip between his teeth before lowering his fingers. Down, down, then circling at your hole and slowly pushing in. A sharp gasp ripped from your chest, back arching as you finally got that stretch; so achingly sweet.
His cock twitched at the sound, begging to be let free and seek shelter deep inside your pussy. He had enough restraint (for now) to get you off first.
And they say chivalry is dead...
He latched his mouth back onto you, slurping obscenely as he licked his way up, fingers curling into the spongy spot of your canal.
"Jo- oh- el!" You cried his name brokenly, hand closing a tight fist into his hair with a tug. You could feel the fucker- no pun intended- smirk against you as he pumped his fingers in and out, picking up the pace as he suckled on the sensitive button. Your whines grew more relentless, hips rolling against the flat of his tongue and holding his head in place as the coil in your stomach began to tighten.
Joel felt you clench around his fingers and took that, along with the way you fervently bumped against the bridge of his nose, as a sign you were close. With a wince he reached his free hand to his jeans, fumbling with the button before sliding the fly down, reaching in and finally pulling out his hard cock.
Said hand went back to its rightful place against your thigh while he rutted against the cushions, pre-cum making a mess into the leather.
"C'mon, darlin'," He murmured, taking a quick glance at you and reveled in the sight of your flushed cheeks, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back against the arm rest. "Give it t'me, cum around my fingers." You didn't need to be told twice. In an instant, that coil snapped. Your legs trembled and shook as your climax ripped through your body, eyes snapping open and mouth agape, but no sound came out other than a few breathy whimpers.
"Good girl," Joel praised, still subtly grinding against the couch, desperate for his own release. "Good fuckin' girl." You had made a complete mess of his hand, your spend dripping down his fingers, into his palm and down his wrist, dribbling onto the sofa.
After your body relaxed, hand releasing the harsh grip from his hair, Joel pulled his fingers from you, making a shudder run up your spine. He sat back on his haunches, pushing his hand to your mouth and said, "Open."
Complying happily in your blissed-out state, your jaw slacked, allowing him to slide his soaked fingers into you warm mouth, palming himself with his other hand while he watched your lips close around the digits, feeling your tongue lick and clean your slick off them.
With a satisfied hum, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, greedily shoving his way past your teeth and licking the roof of your mouth.
Joel backed away, staring deep into your eyes. He huffed, pulling his pants down further, stepping out of one leg. He was so fucking horny and desperate right now he wasn't going to bother with the other one. This would do just fine.
"Need t'fuck you, baby," He spoke in a hushed tone, and without further warning he grabbed your leg and hooked it around his waist just before sliding right in with ease.
The two of you moan in unison. Either he was fucking huge- spoiler, he was- or you were really fucking tight.
Joel collapsed, a hand splayed next to your head to catch himself so he wouldn't fall directly on top of you as he bared his teeth with a hiss.
"Chris' onna damn bike," He slurred, gently lowering himself further and snaking an arm under you as he lazily thrusted into you.
He glanced down to where you two met, watching as he delved in further, "She's jus' swallowin' me in."
An aquiline nose sought out your neck, the sound of Joel consuming your scent filled your ears once more. He simply couldn't get enough. Hips snapped against yours incessantly, skin against skin bouncing off the walls and drowning out the sound of the tv in the background.
The man above reached a hand under your shirt, groping and squeezing your tit as he lowered his forehead to yours, half-lidded eyes boring into yours intently.
"Fuck," He muttered, eyes widening, hips stuttering, "Fuck, 'm close." Joel was a little ashamed of himself. He couldn't remember the last time he made it to the finish line so quickly.
He was quick to remove his hand from under your shirt, finger dipping to the spot where his cock pumped in and out, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your puffy clit yet again.
"Y'think you can gimme another'n, honey?"
"Y-yeah," You nod, feeling that familiar flame lick up your spine. "Wanna cum on your cock."
Joel's lip curled into a snarl at your admission, eyes rolling back before fluttering shut. His movements blundered, then he pulled out, leaving just the tip slotted in your entrance.
"Please," he whined. Whined.
That fucking did it. Your body tightened for the second time this evening, eager to let go and milk Joel of every last drop he had to offer.
"I'm c-" He interjected with a slam of his hips, making you see stars as he fucked you through your orgasm, the head of his dick tapping your cervix as he pushed himself as deep as he could, jerking into you almost feverishly. Your name fell off his tongue like a mantra while he held you flush against him, your back peeling off the leather with arms wrapped around his back as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the musky, sweaty scent of him- your personal favorite brand of 'pheromone perfume' he wears.
After his body lightened, he turned his head and placed a listless, yet tender kiss to your temple. You made a move to crawl away, but that made his grip on you tighten.
"Not yet," he spoke lowly and leaned back, pulling you with him. "Wanna stay like this. Jus' for a minute."
His hand smoothed back your hair, the two of you laid there in silence to catch your breath. After a good ten minutes or so, you lift your head to peek at him, "So, I take it you liked the perfume?"
Joel offered a lopsided smile, rolling his head to the side with a swallow, "Loved it, darlin'."
You'd have to remember to buy more in the future.
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hi, hello, thank you for reading. as stated above, i’m still basically re-learning to write. i’m trying to get in the hang of properly pacing out the story, not too rushed but not too wordy either. feedback is appreciated! pls feel free to interact with a reblog or comment <3
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel tlou#the last of us hbo#joel miller x you#tlou#the last of us#joel miller one shot#joel miller the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#tlou hbo#tlou fanfiction#pure instinct
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Feo, Fuerte Y Formal
Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (FLUFF!!)
CW: sickeningly sweet domestic Cooper, Pre-Ghoul copper, cursing, dancing in the kitchen, talk of marriage, talk of kids, mentions of his divorce, mention of alcohol (nothing crazy though) potential grammatical and spelling errors! Briefly proof-read! Slightly suggestive themes (cooper can’t keep his hands off his pretty girl 🤭)
AN: For all my Cooper Howard lovers who have been asking for him Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War I finally present one to you! I know most of you wanted smut, but honestly for some reason this just felt more like what Pre-War life with Cooper would feel like in my opinion. I feel as if maybe I know more of him in ghoul form to know better how to write smut for the ghoul side of him, but who knows! I may just have to come out with a part two that is just smut of him after he gets married to reader, still pre war, thoughts? 👀 anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! Hope I can do my pre-ghoul loving Cooper lovelies justice for this! 🥰
Also in celebration of international jazz day, I included jazz music! The songs Cooper and reader dance to in their kitchen incase y’all want a more immersive experience! ☺️ I know Michael Bublé’s version isn’t exactly in that time period but his version just feels so much more intimate in my opinion, but feel free to listen to the original if you wish instead!
Tag list: @expirednukacola
It was like any other day in your quaint little home. You were standing by the stove, working on food for dinner for you and Cooper waiting for him to come home from work. You were just finished up with mixing up the mashed potatoes with a mixer when you heard keys jingle in the front door to your house. You smiled giddily as you heard the door open, the clomp of Cooper’s signature cowboy boots across the linoleum floor as your man stepped inside. “Welcome home honey!” You called from the kitchen as he took his shoes off in the entrance of the house, padding into the kitchen once disposing of his work bag and cowboy hat on the hangers near the living room. “How lovely it is to see your face after a long day” he said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You gave a contented hum as he rested his head against your shoulder before placing a sweet kiss to your cheek, not wanting to distract you from the absolute art that was your cooking. “How was work?” You asked, making him chuckle as he stood next to you, watching you as you put your heart and soul into the gravy for the mashed potatoes and pot roast finishing up in the oven. “Oh you know, the usual. Kinda pissed that ain’t nothin’ special happen today” he said, making you turn to him. “All that fuss of bringin’ you in on your day off, just for it t’ be a load a nothin’?” You asked, upset for him that they would do that to him, of course it wasn’t the first time this had occurred, he’d been called in on his days off quite often actually. But it never really upset you, not when you knew it made him happy and when at the end of the day, he’d always come home to you. “Yeah…never fails” he said, making you shake your head. “Figures. I oughta have a chat with that agent of yours to letchya off the hook every now an ‘gain. A day off is meant to be enjoyed! To relax! Not to come straight back into work with more stress than there already is to begin with” you said, making him chuckle at the threatening way you held the spatula in his direction with gravy dripping off it into the pot. “I’m sorry again we couldn’t go to that jazz concert ya wanted to go see” he said, making you somber for a moment remembering the cute plans you’d made for today since he was supposed to be off, but were ruined the moment he answered that damned phone that almost never stops ringing. “Oh don’t you sweat it, darlin’. Been listenin’ to it in the radio! Figured we could have our own little at home date and just enjoy it from the radio, whatdya say?” You asked with a hopeful smile, and he loved the way you always managed to find the positives in even the worst situations. “Sounds good to me if it’s good with you darlin’” he said, pulling you in by the hip to give you a quick, soft kiss. You smiled into it before swatting his hands as he tried to distract you from cooking by letting his hands wander. “Now now, after super, mister. Besides, I worked hard on this pot roast! I’d be cross if it went cold!” You said, making him laugh. He loved your attitude and dedication to your craft, it was just a few of the many things he loved about you truly. As a man fresh from divorce, you sure knew how to make him feel like a brand new man.
He helped you in setting everything out in the table, carrying the pot of mashed potatoes, and the gravy as you made it very clear you needed to place down the pot roast. “Everythin’ smells delicious sweet pea” he said, making you smile proudly as you set down the roast on a mitt to keep the wooden table safe from warping from the heat of the roast pan. “Mmm-MM! Damn honey, looks about as good as you” he said suavely, coming back with two glasses and a bottle of your favorite wine. “Picked this up on the way home as an apology for date night AND!” He said before excitedly going and grabbing flowers from his bag to present you with. You gasped as you saw the beautiful assortment of roses he got you, covering your mouth with your hand as you took them. “Coop! Awww, honey ya shouldn’t have!” You said, hugging him for them and the wine before he found a vase for you to put them in. “They’re gorgeous! Oh gosh you spoil me” you said, making him laugh as he held you close once taking them from your hold so he could be the center of your attention at that moment. “Anything for you honey, it’s the least I could do. Besides, you deserve a man who treats ya like I’m still trynna win ya over, an’ I’m always gonna do that” he said, smiling down at you before kissing you once more. “Well, you are certainly forgiven. Especially now” you said playfully, both of you chuckling amongst each other as he swayed you back and forth to the music. “Alright, c’mon lover boy. Let’s eat ‘fore it gets cold, yeah?” You asked with a smile before moving to sit your self-designated seats at the dinner table, smiling as you popped open the bottle of wine to pour you both a glass after helping yourself to a plate full. He gave a hum in delight at the first taste of your cooking, making you giggle as you cut into your roast before taking a bite. “You are truly a god send. How you make the most delicious food, delicious desserts, I made out” he said, making you giggle once more, a well cooked carrot on the tip of your fork. “What can I say? Mama raised a good one. She really wanted me to get married and give her some grand babies, so had a kick ass teacher” you replied, popping the carrot into your mouth once you’d finished talking with a grin stretched to your pretty lips. “Imma have to thank her myself again when I see her next then, because you are a god damn angel” he said, making you laugh as he continued to compliment you and shout pleased expletives as your delicious home cooked meal.
Once you’d both finished up with dinner, the dishes quickly found their way into the dishwasher and it wasn’t long before you both were slow dancing in your shared kitchen. You smiled up at him as the song that played when you two met, then when you first got together, and on your first date began to play. What luck it was that it would end up playing!
How lucky can one guy be?
I kissed her and she kissed me.
Like the fella once said,
“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
You smiled and giggled as you both swayed to the upbeat song, listening to the singer who did a mighty fine impression of Dean Martin in your opinion. You watched as Cooper happily began singing along, making all sorts of funny faces as he got into it, loving the way it always made you smile.
The room was completely black.
I hugged her and she hugged back.
Like the sailor said, quote,
“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”
My head keeps spinning.
I go to sleep and keep grinning.
If this is just the beginning,
My life is gonna be beautiful.
You started to sing along with him, unable to deny just the purely happy energy almost radiating from him, as if he was singing this song and singing it about you. Your smile stretched so wide it almost hurt your cheeks, seeing those cute little dimples that rested in his when he was truly and genuinely happy.
I’ve got sunshine enough to spread.
It’s just like the fella said,
“Tell me quick: ain’t love a kick in the head?”
Like the fella once said,
“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
Like the sailor said, quote,
“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”
My head keeps spinning.
I go to sleep and keep grinning.
If this is just the beginning,
My life is gonna be beautiful.
She’s telling me we’ll be wed.
She’s picked out a king-size bed.
I couldn’t feel any better or I’d be sick.
Tell me quick, oh, ain’t love a kick?
Tell me quick, ain’t love a kick in the head?
He smiled as he swayed you back and forth, looking at you and singing to you before twirling you in front of him, watching the skirt of your dress billow out around you as you spun. Before the song came to an end, he dipped you, holding you up with an arm resting in the dip of your lower back as your arms looped around his neck. His lips connected with yours, his heart racing as he looked at you, feeling as happy as the upbeat rhythm of the song. Your one hand cradled his cheek as you kissed, passionately and sweetly before he brought you back up. “Reminds me of the day we first met” you said with a happy smile, remembering that day well. You had been in attendance to your best friend’s little girl’s birthday party where they hired Cooper to do his titular cowboy stunts to entertain the children, but over time as the kids talked and played amongst each other, you’d bravely strewn up to him, thanks to enjoying a few martinis before hand. You’d told him how much of a fan you were, and struck up conversation with him by the radio that was playing music that the kids were dancing to and that song so happened to be one of them. You two hit it off enough that you’d actually talked all night, even after the time he was paid to be there for. “Okay you two, my wallet can only handle the great Cooper Howard for so long” your best friend said, making you blush and apologize for holding him up so long. “Say no more ma’am, I’ll get outta your hair. But you, pretty lady, I would love to keep in touch with” he said, and you could have shit your pants as he gave you a napkin with his phone number written on with. You hadn’t expected THE Cooper Howard to actually want to talk to you, let alone become something akin to friends! And yet here you were, living in a nice little house out in the farmlands with him. It was like a dream come true. It was right after that song that played, that another came through the speakers that you enjoyed dancing to. You smiled as you took his hands to lead the dance.
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance, you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
You mouthed the lyrics to the song as you focused on the intimate dance you’d both learned. His hands cascaded down from your arms, down your waist then rested on your hips as you both swayed to the rhythm. A smirk donned his lips as he recalled the first time you both ever danced to this song, as if the chemistry between you was so strong, so natural that the dance hardly even needed to be taught to you.
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway, I go weak
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway, I go weak
He never failed to steal your heart with the skillful way he would twirl you and dip you deeply to the loud sound of the trumpets reaching the peak at the end of that verse. You smiled up at him as your lips ghosted his, coming so close to brushing against his before pulling you back up to continue the fast paced dance to the song.
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
When marimbas start to play
Hold me close, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance, you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
As the song came to its end, he twirled you in front of him, jumping between facing him and having your back turned to him as your feet stepped around one another’s and bodies swayed in tandem together like the fluid motion of water brushing against the sand of a beach. You smiled brightly as he dipped you once more, your arms looped around his neck as you lifted your one leg to rest against his hip, his one hand holding you up and his free one resting along the back of your thigh that rested against him. “Still got it” he said confidently, making you chuckle. “Never doubted that you did” you quipped, enjoying this intimate, peaceful moment together. “I love you, so damn much Y/N” He said as leaned down, making you grin just a little bit wider at his kind, heart spoken words. “I love you so damn much too, Cooper Howard” you said, making him hum at the use of his full name, feeling your fingers brushing his cheek as your eyes flit between his and his lips before pulling him into a more heated, passionate kiss than the ones you shared earlier. With a little wine in both of your systems and having not seen one another since the early hours of the morning, it left you rather caught up in the moment and wanting of one another.
“Before I get too carried away now, I did get ya another gift. Been hangin’ onto it for a while now, and well…it didn’t feel right to give it to ya ‘til now” he said, making you playfully slap his chest at the fact that he fussed enough over you guys missing a concert to get you so many gifts to make up for something so small. “Cooper Howard! You and the gifts, you’re startin’ to make me look like a spoiled princess!” You chewed him out, making him laugh, he knew you hated it when he fussed over you but he just couldn’t help himself. In his eyes you deserved the world, and god damn it would he make sure he could give it to you. “I do it ‘cause I want to, honey. Don’t you worry” he said, making you stand with your hands on your hips giving him a playful glare. “Just close your eyes for me, would ya sugar? And before ya chew me out some more, I think you’ll find that you’re gonna love it” he said sweetly, and of course you did what he asked, ever curious of why he was playing this gift up so much. “If you’re tryin’ to play any moves on me, might I remind you that the kitchen blinds are still open? Don’t need to be givin’ Betty-Sue and her husband Harold a view straight from one of them magazines” you said, making him give a hearty laugh in response. “Well maybe I should close the blinds then, but I got a feelin’ it’ll have you screamin’ in a different kinda way sugar” he replied, and you couldn’t help the blush that tickled to your cheeks. “Well now you got me guessin’” you said, a little anxious now to see what it was he’d gotten for you. “Well then stop guessin’. Open your eyes and find out” he said, and the gasp that left your lips you swore could have been heard from the next house down. “Cooper!!” You yelled loud enough to also likely be heard a few doors over, with tears coming to your eyes as you saw him standing there on one knee, a gorgeous diamond ring resting in the box he had outstretched to you. “Oh my god, Coop…you did not” you said through chuckles and happy tears, making him beam up at you. “I sure did. I’d be doin’ you, myself, and your mama one hell of a disservice if I didn’t put a ring on that gorgeous finger a yours for all the things you done for me. You stuck by me through all the nasty shit in the divorce, you’ve done nothin’ but love and care for little Janey as if she were your own, and by god if you ain’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever gotten the honor of knowin’” he said, making you cover your mouth with your hands as you listened to him. “You got my whole heart Y/N, even when I thought none of it was left, you found it and put it right back together. And that’s a whole hell of a lot more than what this ol’ boy could ever ask for” he said, making you chuckle at him calling himself old when he wasn’t really. “So whatdya say? Will you marry me?” He asked, making you shake your head yes about as vigorously as you could without running the risk of getting whiplash. “Yes! A million times yes. I’ll marry you Coop” you said, making him smile as he picked you up in his arms, twirling you both around in celebratory fashion with shared happy laughter. As he set you down, he kissed you once more before sliding that gorgeous diamond ring on your finger. You smiled as you looked down at it, so overjoyed, so overflown with love you just couldn’t help but kiss him again. “It’s beautiful Cooper, thank you” you said sweetly, making him pull your hand up to his lips as he pressed them to your knuckles. “No, thank you sweetheart. For everything you do for this stubborn son of a gun” he said, making you giggle once more at him before pressing your forehead to his, closing your eyes to enjoy the peaceful quiet in this beautiful, intimate moment together.
“Well shit, I suppose you’ve done and earned the right to dessert now after everything” you said teasingly, breaking the silence and making him whistle excitedly at the prospect of what your words had in store. You yelped in surprise then laughed as he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared bedroom with all the excitement of a couple still in their honeymoon phase. You supposed now it wouldn’t be long until you actually had a honeymoon with him. “Cooper! Good lord! You are just full of it today” you said through laughs as he brought you into the bedroom, grinning as he closed the door behind him with his foot. The poor man just couldn’t get enough of you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. “Don’t get me wrong I love your cookin’ sugar, but I’d be a lyin’ sack a shit if I said havin’ you for dessert afterwards wasn’t my favorite part” he said, making you laugh as he set you on the soft, king sized bed you two shared. “Well then come get a piece of your future bride then, cowpoke” you said with a smirk, and he ain’t never grinned wider than after hearing those words leave your mouth.
#fallout#cooper howard#fallout x reader#cooper howard x reader#asks#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader#fallout tv series#fallout tv show#Spotify
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Whiskey, Neat
Rated E, for EVERYONE!
Boothill is the most annoying customer you have to deal with.
Featuring: Boothill and YOU!
Beware! This film contains: Probably OOC Boothill (made before his release), gender neutral reader, the reader doesn't like straight whiskey sorry guys, not quite frenemies to lovers....? more like two ppl annoying the fuck outta each other, Boothill threatens to kill you once or twice, but he also flirts, a touch of angst at the VERY end, mention of sexual harassment but it's just the reader calling Boothill a creep I repeat there is zero sexual harassment in this fic
Boothill is a thorn in your side. No, no; you find yourself thinking that comparison is too tame. To you, Boothill is a girdle made of barbed wire. You thought it impossible to hate a man at such a depth until you met the outlaw. He always smelled like hot pennies and diesel, never paid his tab, and harassed the rest of the bar staff to such a degree that none of them would serve him. Except you.
For the first few months of your “relationship”, you were only acquainted with Boothill from the countless times you had to drag him away from the bar top and throw him out the front door. Shortly after that, your boss said you should learn a thing or two about bartending for “no good reason”. You were starting to catch on. Soon enough your position as security faded away and was replaced with “the guy who dealt with Boothill”. You can't complain, the pay is better and you have the eternal gratitude of your coworkers.
In a matter of mere seconds, the front doors swing open, and three deafening gunshots shatter the eardrums of everyone in the bar.
“Alright, everyone out.” Just like that, you watch all the good tips run right out the door, along with the rest of the wait staff. Now left in an empty bar, Boothill throws his arms wide, gun still held tight in his metal fingers. “I'm back, baby! You miss me?”
The revolver takes a seat at the bar top before Boothill does, slammed down hard against the wood, its barrel pointed right at you. You're not worried, Boothill doesn't shoot on accident.
“Like a hole in the head.” You quit cleaning a glass and glance at the new bullet holes placed just above the door. “Or the ceiling… order your drink and get the fuck outta here already, Boots. You're killing business.”
“Keep mouthin’ off and I'll be killin’ more than business, sweetheart.” As if to prove his point, the freak of nature spits a few bullets onto the bar top and starts reloading his gun.
You can't help but roll your eyes at Boothill’s threats. The man offers to shoot you every other breath, but he'll never do it- if he was going to kill you, you'd already be dead. You're the only man still alive who talks to Boothill like that. Probably because you're the only man alive who’ll still serve him a drink. “You're not gonna kill me, Boots. Piss off any more bartenders and you're gonna have to get your fix from the hand sanitizer in public bathrooms.”
A deep scowl takes over Boothill’s face. “You're just askin’ for me to hop this counter and kiss you right on that pretty mouth of yours.” He stops then, equal parts embarrassed and furious as a hand comes to grasp at his own throat, surely cursing his internal censor system.
“Wow, sexual harassment, that's a new low, even for a hunk of junk like you.” You snort and a short glass finds its way into your hands. You're already pulling the strongest whiskey you have from beneath the counter, knowing Boothill will ask for it any second.
As if intentionally subverting your expectations, the outlaw kicks his feet up on the bar with an amused chuckle and a smug smile that makes you want to punch his teeth right out of his face.
“You just call me a hunk?” Six words in and you're already exasperated beyond belief. He's leaving crusty speckles on your clean bar. “Darlin’, if you wanted to take me out so bad, you coulda’ just asked.”
You elbow Boothill right in the ankles; it brings a mild ache to your arm as bone meets unrelenting metal, but the pain is worth it to watch the self-satisfied prick lose his grin and nearly fall out of his chair. “I’d rather drink a pint of sand and chew the glass it came in, take your drink and get outta here.”
The glass slides across the bar just a touch too fast, the liquid fire inside threatening to slosh over the sides; if Boothill's hand hadn't shot out to catch the glass, it surely would've sailed right off the bar and shattered on the floor.
“Come on now sweet thing, don't act like you hate me.” He recuperates much too fast, already leaning on his palm. There's a horrible, discordant shrieking emitted by the friction of metal against glass; Boothill running his fingertip around the rim of the glass. “Can't deny we’ve got some kinda chemistry.”
“Oh, it ain't acting, trust.” You snort at Boothill’s shot at… Well, you're not sure; could this be called flirting? If so, it's a laughable attempt. “We've got chemistry like bleach and ammonia.”
You know he's got some smart-mouthed response when Boothill bares his pointed teeth in a massive grin. “Could say we'd be… breathtakin’?”
It's horrible. That joke is worse than any sugar-coated insult Boothill could toss your way. One hand shoots out to grasp Boothill’s glass, the other going to grip his chin.
“Agh- what the-” You don't give Boothill time to finish, wedging your fingers between his razor-sharp teeth to pry his mouth open and dump the glass of whiskey down his throat. He gargles once, coughs twice, and swats at your hands furiously.
“You had your drink. Now run off, you robotic trash-eating vermin.” Fresh bruises are purpling on your wrists from Boothill’s strikes. It could still be worse. He could tell another joke.
Boothill is still sputtering like a drowned rat, grasping at his throat and swearing- or doing his best impression of it. “What in heaven’s holy gates, darling!?” He coughs again. “You tryna’ give me a heart attack you cute little minx?! Who just pours a drink down a man's throat?!”
“Someone who's trying to get the man to leave. You had your drink, now scram before I call animal control.” You reach to take away Boothill’s empty half-glass, only to get caught in the outlaw’s iron grip.
His spare hand slams down against the bar top, a cacophony of delicate tinkling ringing out as glassware rattles and bumps against itself. “Oh don't pull that cute crap with me, sweetheart! Pour me another one, so I can drink it nice and slow.”
“You're a jackass, you know?” The words come out hissed between your teeth, roiling with barely concealed hatred, but you’re already moving to pour him another. Every time you encounter Boothill, you curse his stubbornness.
“Watch your mouth.” His grip relaxes slightly, but he keeps his stern expression as he sits back down. “Whiskey, neat.”
You almost laugh, jerking your wrist out of his grasp- does Boothill seriously think you need a reminder? Though you’d much rather kick him to the curb with a few extra bullet holes in his ugly hat, you pour Boothill a second drink with an insulted scoff. “Yeah, yeah, I know what you fuckin’ drink.”
When Boothill takes the drink this time, he tilts the glass towards you in an encouraging motion. “Pour one for yourself, too.” The look you give him must be an incredulous one, because he scowls and waves a hand at you dismissively. “Aw, Pete's sake. Just do it!”
The sigh you heave is so heavy that Boothill briefly looks for an open window, thinking there’s a draft coming in. You drag your feet through pulling down a second glass, lamenting that now you have two dishes to do when the outlaw leaves. The pour you give yourself can be more accurately called a sip, barely coming to the width of your finger. When Boothill shoots an exasperated look your way, you already have a retort prepped for him.
“Not all of us can drink in the middle of the damn day, Boots.” You stare down at the drink, swirling it lightly with a disgusted grimace. “Besides, I’m no fan of straight whiskey. I’m more of an Old Fashioned kind of guy.”
The way Boothill smiles smugly makes you wanna punch dents into his metal chest. “Oh, bless your heart, that’s cute. Stuff’s too sweet for me, personally.” He lifts his glass to you, asking for a toast.
“Too sweet? Hell, Boots. Maybe hand sanitizer is a good match for you.” Reluctantly, you tilt your glass towards his, the rims letting out a high ringing as they meet.
This time Boothill pulls an exasperated face, raising the glass to sit just in front of his lips. “Just drink already, I’m tryna’ be nice, and you’re out here ruinin’ it with your smart lil’ mouth.”
After a second of hesitation, staring into the amber, you tip the glass back and let the drink slide down your throat. It burns, chemical and hot, like sandpaper tearing through your esophagus. It’s all you can do to not dry heave at the feeling, but you can’t stifle a coughing fit. “Fucking hell- how can you drink this shit?”
The drink came much easier to Boothill, nursing his whiskey as if he were only sipping on tap water. “Guess I just got a more refined palette, sweet thing. Thanks for sharin’ a drink with me anyway. You make a guy feel less lonely.”
For once, Boothill seems strangely earnest and you can’t help but be put off guard. You suppose, with such a polarizing personality and by the very nature of outrunning the law, Boothill must live quite the isolating life. Then again, if he wanted to be less alone, he could simply stop getting himself kicked out of bars. Still, you stumble over your words for a second, looking for a proper thing to say, and in the end only muttering out a sorry; “Yeah, sure, no problem.”
Even to you, that doesn’t quite make you sound like yourself. Dishes, you have dishes to do, a distraction that can carry your mind away from Boothill’s odd shift in demeanor. You’re expecting a snide comment about how quiet you’re being, but when you look back at Boothill, he’s fixed his gaze on an empty wall; clearly, he’s far away from here. You’re trying not to think about it too hard- Boothill’s seemingly flirtatious remarks, asking you to drink -but in the empty bar, it’s silent, and it’s almost… nice.
I SWEAR I'M WORKING ON REQUESTS. I PROMISE. the Barbatos fic is coming out to be twice as long as just about anything else I've written so it's taking a long time. I saw Boothill things and was possessed by spirits to make this. Also. Yes inspired by the Hozier song
#pansy writes#honkai star rail#hsr boothill#hsr x reader#boothill x reader#boothill#boothill hsr#boothill honkai star rail#boothill x you#x reader#gender neutral y/n#gender neutral reader#boothill x gender neutral reader#hoyoverse
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505 cl16
where you reminisce on your first love
wc 3k
an done for my 1.2k event! first fic in the series, lmk if you wanna be tagged and as always pls like + rb<3
(starts in 2014, ends in 2024ish)
i'm going back to 505
you rushed down the road, feet peddling as hard as they could as you biked down the street. your eyes glanced down to your watch, squinting before you read the time. great. you were going to be late.
you thought that was you’re biggest problem, and then a new one came crashing onto you, literally.
while you were busy checking the time, you failed too notice someone else running in your direction. you don't know what had them too preoccupied to notice you- but you could technically say the same thing about yourself so-
you were bought back to the moment by the stinging you started to feel on your knees, you hissed looking down and seeing red. ugh
you began to apologize, looking up and stopping mid sentence.
wow. he was pretty. really pretty
you slapped yourself mentally, wincing while standing up. it was definitely going to scar. you reached your hand down to help the mysterious boy up, who sharply inhaled when your hands met. he had scraped his hands up pretty bad when you guys collided.
"i'm so sorry again"
"you're completely fine, i should've been paying more attention" he said while laughing
he has nice laugh
"anyway, i think i should properly introduce myself, i'm charles le clerc" this time he was the one to extend his hand out
"y/n l/n, nice to meet you" you smiled as you shook hands
then you remembered what had gotten you into this mess. you checked your watch again. you were definitely late now.
"i'm so sorry charles but im running late to a painting class, i really need to go" you picked up your bike, kicking the dust off of it.
"wait i am too, are you going to mme. callarios?"
you looked back at him in shock. "how did you know"
he shook his head, "you're going in the wrong direction, since we're heading the same way mind if i show you?"
you didn't see why not, so he climbed in front of you and began to head towards your class
-
if it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
the bike halted as you reached your destination. building 505. you stared at each other nervously before walking in. the class had started at 1pm, and it was nearing 2 when you arrived. granted, it was a 4 hour class but still.
you cringed internally as you felt all eyes on you when you opened the doors to the class.
"y/n, charles! great to see you. we've split up into partners, so you both will have to work together. decide who will be the painter and who will be the model for the first piece. switch in an hour and a half!" she explained quickly, ushering you both to the only empty table.
you both sat across from each other, and after a small game of rock paper scissors, you were adjusting in your seat getting ready to pose for the next 90 minutes.
-
when you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?
you didn't know how you managed to keep a straight face, his stares were piercing into what felt like your soul. you knew that he had to be like this, he was painting you after all. but knowing that didn't help. after silently uttering some words of encouragement to yourself, you maintained a straight face.
after what felt like forever, you heard the timer go off, and with one last stroke of the brush charles was up and you were swapping places. you cracked your knuckles before sitting on the stool. this was gonna have to be the best painting you've ever done.
before you knew it you were hearing to now familiar ring as you finished off the details of his eyes. you stood up, backing away from the piece. not too bad you thought.
after everyone had finished, you went to the room across as they all dried. it was acrylic, so it wouldn't take too long. there were snacks and refreshments scattered throughout the space. grabbing a drink and seat, you started to learn more about charles. he had two brothers, one older and younger. his mom still cut his hair, you thought he might be embarrased but he showed it off proudly.
“all these years and she still hasn't given me a bad haircut”
“if my mom could cut hair like yours, i'd be getting it done by her too”
“you should come by her salon sometime, i think she'd like you”
“really?”
“yeah, she's out of town so next month when she's back”
with those plans made, you collectively went back into the painting room. you both swapped paintings and looked at them for a while.
you gauged his reaction, at first his face was blank and you were scared that you had made him look like a troll or something, but slowly a smile creeped up onto his face, he looked up to you.
“it's really good”
you smiled and looked down to yours, he had gotten your likeliness down to a t. he left clear marks and left the strokes visible.
looking up you saw him searching your eyes for a reaction, just like you had.
“you did so good, i love your painting style”
he seemed relieved when you said that, smiling. as everyone around you began to pack up and leave, you both exchanged numbers before grabbing your paintings and going your separate ways.
-
not shy of a spark
you had texted back and forth a lot since then, and soon enough you found yourself at the doorstep of his moms salon. after being welcomed in you sat down and showed her photos of the haircut you wanted. she nodded, and began to wet your hair
“charles talks about you a lot, you know”
“does he really” you said with a laugh
“he does, i think he likes you dear”
that shut you up, she smiled warmly
“at this age, love is everywhere, make sure you grab it while you can”
you left the appointment with amazing hair and a lot of questions, you didn't think he could possibly like you back. but now, who knows
the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
-
I'm going back to 505
you walk into the painting studio, excited with the a dragonfruit in your hand. today was still life day, normally you found it boring but mme. callarios had let everyone bring their own fruit.
you spotted charles when you got in, and lifted your dragonfruit for him to see. he put his hand up, showing off the orange he had started to peel. he tore off a piece for you, and offered it once you got closer.
your hand was cramping as your eyes continued to squint at the pink fruit in front of you. you regretted picking dragon fruit barely half an hour in, the seeds and the outer skin were proving difficult to paint accurately, you glanced over to charles, his was coming along nicely. you ended up pushing through the ugly phase and were somewhat proud of the piece. it had definitely been your most challenging one so far
-
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
you were biking to charles' place, over the weeks you had both become closer, and he wanted to cook for you. you were somewhat scared, charles didn't seem like michelin star material, but maybe he'd surprise you.
he did end up surprising you, but not in the way that you thought.
pasta was on the menu for the afternoon, and you sat on the counter as he went around getting all the ingredients ready. basil, pine nuts, garlic, and olive oil were all pushed onto an island before he began on the pasta. getting out the flour and egg, he began to knead the dough together.
he looked nice in moments like this, comfortable. you liked to think that maybe you could see more of him like this, when he's quiet and the silence isn't awkward. existing together in his apartment kitchen. once he was done cutting the dough into pieces, he salted the water and dropped the pasta in. he came over to you and you both began talking.
you ended up getting so immersed in the conversation that the pasta was forgotten- at least until it was too late. you glanced over to the stove, eyes widening as you saw smoke rising from the pan. you both jumped up and yanked it off the gas, bringing it to the sink. what was going to be amazing pasta was now a charred rock. you couldn't help but laugh before getting side eyed by charles.
"i guess we're going to have to order pizza instead"
you ended up binging some random show you found on netflix, and as a souvenir took home the rock of burnt pasta, you named it char, short for charles charcoal
-
In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side
charles had become a f3 driver now, and hadn't been in monaco for a bit. you watched all his races, and you were the first person he called after his first win in pau-ville. he was excited, and so were you.
you're feelings for him had kept growing, and you couldn't help it, no matter how much you tried. you loved everything about him, his eyes, and how they'd light up when he saw you, his smile, and the dimples that formed when he did. his hair, his voice, just him.
soon enough he was back in monaco and you were excited to see him.
you grabbed coffee and began walking around the streets, stopping at building 505, walking into the currently empty studio. you looked around some of the paintings before sitting on some stools.
you knew him too well now, 3 years of friendship will do that. he was nervous, when he bought his hand up to his face you had saw he had bitten his nails. you didn't bring it up, but before you could say anything he started to speak
"i've been trying to figure out how i should say this for the longest time. i've known for a while now, but it really hit me in pau. i couldn't have don't any of this without you, i don't even think i'd be who i am without you y/n. and now that i'm back i can' t handle not telling you. i like you, i really like you"
you were stunned for a minute, before you kicked back the stool you were sitting in and kissed him. the puzzles had fallen into place, you couldn't believe it.
he deepened the kiss, bringing his hand to your waist as you sat in his lap. your fingers ran through his hair, tugging as you began to roll your hips against his.
you pulled away, panting. smiling at him before you began to kiss him again, his hands roamed down to your shirt, tugging it up as he separated from you again. you raised your arms, and took his off as well. a silent beat skipped between you both and you laughed
"are we really about to do this right now"
"yeah, i think we are"
you pulled him closer to you once again, his tongue slipped int your mouth effortlessly and you almost moaned, god he knew how to make you melt.
soon enough, the rest of your clothes followed suit and you were on the cool tile floor. as his hand started to trace your inner thigh you grabbed his hand. he looked up, somewhat confused but before he could say anything you spoke,
'i've never done this before"
he relaxes almost immediately, and smiles down at you
"neither have i"
you weren't ashamed to admit you were shocked, sopmeone like him.. never? not once?
he could see the gears turning in his head and he spoke up
"there were girls now and then sure, but i always wanted it to be you, it's always been you honestly"
you couldn't see yourself rn, but you were sure you were giving im heart eyes by now.
"it was the same for me too actually" you said sheepishly
"was it really?
"yeah, it was" and with that you bought your hands up to his shoulder, flipping him onto the floor. you kissed him softly, turning his face to kiss along his jaw, his neck, going further down to his chest, then stomach. pausing for permission, after seeing his nod you pulled down, eyes widening as you saw it. well this was gonna be interesting
you left kisses on his tip, working your way down before you took him all in your mouth. he hit the back of your throat and you almost choked, but hearing the moans coming out of his mouth kept you going. you could feel him start to pulse, and before you could do anything else he was bringing you off of him, kissing your lips as he turned you around.
“can’t have you doing all the work can i cher?” he said as he pulled your underwear down, almost moaning when he looked down at you, all of you.
he traced his hands down your sternum, down to your waist and legs. spreading you open he dipped his face down.
you could feel his tongue inside you, pulsing before he started scissoring you open. he was good- too good at this. you don’t know if you could handle it. soon enough, he was back on top of you, kissing you gently as he lined himself up with your entrance.
he cleaned you up afterwards, he was quiet, soft. you could get used to this
-
but I crumble completely when you cry
it had been months since that night, you and charles had been going strong, but after he joined f2, something changed. his eyes no longer lit up when he saw you, he started buying things for you instead of making them. you’d wake up to your phone being full of messages, but none of them from him.
it hurt. he hurt.
it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he called you, asking where you were.
you answered, mme. callarios’ place. he said he was going to be there soon.
you felt your heart drop, wether it was excitement or fear, you couldn’t tell.
you knew the minute he stepped through the door it was going to be bad. you could read him like a book. you composed yourself as he came closer, pressing quick kisses to the others cheeks, you painted a smile on your face and smiled at him.
his eyes were full of emotion, for the first time in months. it’s almost funny, you knew it was coming but the moment the words left his mouth you broke down
“i’ve been seeing someone else”
“i see”
at first it didn’t register, not really. a heartbeat later you felt the tears pricking at your eyes. you turned around trying to excuse yourself, but before you could take another step a sob escaped your lips. you started to cry. you couldn’t shut up, why couldn’t you just shut up? you could feel yourself gasping for breath, all the air in the world wasn’t enough for your lungs right now. you were getting lightheaded, knees turning shaky before ultimately giving up on you. the impact resonated around the empty room.
he stepped forward, kneeling down. his stupid, warm hands brushed up against your face, trying to wipe away your tears.
you couldn’t even push him off of you. you really were pathetic.
you managed to fight your way up, shaking and all but running out the door.
never again, you were never going to love anyone like that again
-
i’m going back to 505
you walked into a crowded room. your latest collection had been getting a lot of coverage in the media, and it was the last day it was up for the public. the pieces would be going to the individual buyers first thing tomorrow.
building 505. it no longer made a bitter taste seep into your mouth. it’s crazy to think a decade ago you were standing here painting him, how time flies.
the first few months were the worst. he was the only thing you could think of, you were a broken record. so naturally, you did the one thing that made you feel close to him again, painting. and it saved you
you could get out every thought you were too afraid to say out loud, every emotion you didn’t want to feel with simple strokes on canvas
you didn’t think anything would come of it, honestly. you were meant to go into investment banking, like your parents. the universe had other plans though
one of mme. callarios’ friends was a museum director, and took a liking to your pieces. he asked you to do some works on commission. word got around fast, and now you’ve made a name for yourself as an artist, in some ways all thanks to charles
charles. now he had his dream job, f1. working with the team he used to tell you about, the team he worshipped.
you were happy for him, sometimes you wonder if he was happy for you. you still think of him when you eat pesto, you still keep char in a jar under your bed, you have all of the paintings you made that summer in a closet collecting dust. there were pieces of yourself that you gave to him that will stay his even though you’re done.
none of that matters now though, you turn to someone who’s called your name and start explaining the piece they’ve asked about
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc prompt#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#scudia ferrari#charles leclerc x yn#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic
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Omg and another one where the reader is as bold and direct as zoro. Like for wxample the reader would gawk at his body and hed be like “like what u see?” “Yea.” And many more upfront flirty remarks if ykwim
oh yeah ,, this. I love love flirty reader w zoro and I had fun with this one hehe <;3
set a little before the previous one; I kinda picture this as how you started hookin up :o i would loveee to make this a little series, tell me what you think!
contains: afab reader, fwb reader + zoro, steamy makeout and sexual content but no actual sex, alcohol/intoxication (both)
like what you see?
Sanji tossed his head back in a hearty laugh, drink in hand as Luffy regaled another story of Shanks’ early pirating days. You smiled, vaguely aware of the words Luffy was saying; focusing instead on Zoro, laughing and drinking along with them. Something about the way he looked tonight - his eyes alight with laughter, his smile, warm from the effects of a few beers. His arms, always so strong and toned, his broad chest warmed by the glow of the sun it saw each day.
God. This man looked delicious. It made you wonder what he’d look like underneath you, chest heaving as you rock your hips, or on top of you, telling you how pretty you looked as he thrust into you –
“Somethin’ you wanna say?” You were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts, Zoro’s eyes now on you. Somewhere distantly, you could hear the muffled sounds of Sanji, Usopp and Luffy talking as they made their way to the men’s quarters for the night. You cleared your throat, suddenly aware of the way his eyes raked over your black tank top. When you didn’t respond, Zoro leaned in, close enough for you to feel his breath on you. “You like what you see, darlin’?”
“Yeah, what if I do?” You licked your lips, stomach flipping as you both edged closer to new territory. A familiar bond had grown between you, bringing you closer to each other than most – but something like this had never yet been said, though you knew internally you’d had the hots for him for a while.
Zoro’s hand –oh god, his hands– reached out to you, fingers brushing gently across your cheek as he cups your jaw. A flirty smile painted your lips, leaning into his touch.
“Then I think I’d have to kiss you,” he replied, breath hot on your lips. The tension between the two of you wound so tight you may snap – you surged forward, using the collar of his shirt to pull yourself in and crash your lips to his. He melted into your touch, both of you breathing out a sigh as you finally touched.
Kissing Zoro was…just so good. The soft buzz of alcohol warmed your limbs, lips finding their places together. His kiss was strong, grasping your jaw with one hand and your waist with his other. When you parted for breath, your eyes met. Zoro, the brave, outspoken man that he was, was utterly breathless. The sight of him with his cheeks flushed only made you want him more; knowing that if you asked, he’d be putty in your hands.
“Zoro, I want you,” you looked into his eyes, palms flat on his chest. His flushed face, kiss bitten lips and wide eyes told you all you needed to know. He licked his lips, heart pounding with anticipation as his hands gripped your waist with a new eagerness.
“Then c’mere darlin,” he muttered, pulling you onto his lap. You straddle his lap, allowing you to look down to him. His brown eyes looked back at you, utterly enraptured in you. He held you tightly, pressing your bodies together while you slot your lips against his with a hunger that lit a fire inside you. Zoro groaned when your hips moved against his, slowly grinding yourself into him and all you could think about was how good and right he felt against you.
Your kisses became needier, your grinding in his lap making him so hard his erection strained against his pants as his hands roamed your body, desperate for more friction, more kisses, more.
“Zoro I - ahh - “ you gasped, his mouth trailing sloppy kisses across your breasts, grazing your nipples with his teeth.
“Bedroom?” He asked, smiling as he heard the breathlessness in your voice, knowing he was making you feel that way.
“Now,” you nearly demanded it, standing and pulling him up with you. Your heart pounded as the two of you made your way to your quarters, thoughts racing with possibilities…
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hahaaa cliffhangerrrr. I'll do a follow up w the actual hookup soon hehe
<3 faye
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#one piece#one piece live action#one piece fluff#roranoa zoro#zoro smut#zoro x reader#zoro x you#zoro fluff#one piece x reader#fayesfics
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Dream Come True
Pairing- Bob Floyd/reader
Warnings-maybe language? It’s just straight fluff with maybe a twinge of angst.
Summary- reader can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore, Bob is an absolute dreamboat.
The Hard Deck is completely packed, everyone is off for the holiday weekend and it couldn’t be more overwhelming. You and Bob have hunkered down in a corner booth near the pool tables, nursing your beers while you watch the rest of the squad attempt to take on Hangman and Coyote at what is sure to be another devastating loss.
Bob comes back from the bar with more peanuts as you notice a few girls at the bar looking at him like he could be their next meal, and in true Bob fashion, he is absolutely clueless at just how hot he actually is. Just as charming as Rooster, and definitely just as handsome as Hangman; but the shy soft spoken man in front of you seems completely unaware of the looks he gets every time he steps into Penny’s bar. It’d almost be funny if you weren’t also one of the girls vying for his attention and getting absolutely nowhere.
“Goodness it sure is busy tonight, those girls couldn’t have gotten closer to me if they tried” he said, and you can’t help but throw your head back and laugh at how oblivious he was.
He quirks an eyebrow in your direction as you settle down with a deep sigh.
“You really don’t know the effect you have on people do you?” You say, mostly to yourself shaking your head with a smile, staring at your beer instead of at the bewildered WSO sitting next to you.
“Wha- Who? Me?!” Bob is beet red now, looking absolutely anywhere but at your face.
“Yes you! They were practically throwing themselves at you goofball!” Facepalming and erupting in giggles at the shock on his face.
He’s laughing with you in earnest now, but you can tell he still doesn’t quite believe you.
“Well that’s awful sweet of them darlin’ but I’ve got everything I need right here” reaching across the table and patting your hand, lingering a little longer than normal for two people who are supposedly just friends.
It’s always been like this, ever since the two of you met in the academy almost a decade ago. Sure you’ve both dated other people, but it never goes anywhere. Everyone always jokes that you’ll be married with a brood of kids one day and it gets passed off with an awkward laugh and quick subject change.
One of you is going to have to have the courage to breach whatever this is; a crush, sexual tension, love? Oh God shut up brain don’t get ahead of yourself…you’re smarter than this, if he had wanted you he would have said something by now. You could come out of your skin just thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, be his girlfriend, one day be his wife…
He’s looking at you now, eyebrows furrowed and looking a little worried that maybe the heat has gotten to you after all because you’ve all but spaced out trying to fight the war you’re having internally.
“Sweets if you think any harder your head is gonna explode, what’s going on up there?”
You open your mouth to tell him everything is fine but that is definitely (unfortunately) not what comes flying out.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since we got back to Top Gun, hell probably longer than that and I doubt you feel the same and oh God this is so awkward you know what just forget I ever said anything.” You blurted it out, literal word vomit. Good job genius now he probably thinks you’re nuts.
You can’t stay and look, it’s too hot in your little corner booth and you can feel the walls closing in so you jump up and whisper a half ass apology as you push out through the crowd and mercifully make it through the door.
Gasping in the sea air and trying to regulate your breathing are proving to be difficult now, because omg what the hell were you thinking? You told your colleague (yes he was more like your best friend but nevertheless) Bob Freaking Floyd, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen that you are in love with him and then ran out of the bar like Cinderella at midnight.
While your brain is spinning out of control, you barely notice the door opening behind you, and you certainly didn’t expect to startle as the person that came through the door links his fingers with yours.
It’s him, because of course it is. You knew better than to think you could just drop a bomb like that thinking he would let it go. Taking a deep breath you spin around to his kind face and stupidly perfect blue eyes.
“You done spiraling so we can actually talk about what the hell just happened?” He says, rubbing the back of his neck and for the first time in years you can’t get a read on him. Normally you can clock how he’s feeling from a mile away but this…this is something different.
“Is there any way I can get you to forget it?”
“Not a chance”
“I- fine.”
You open and close your mouth and try to get the words out but there’s only one thing your brain is screaming at you.
3 words, 8 letters. You say it to him in your head every day, when he’s sharing his snacks with you during Mav’s long lectures, when you are watching whatever sci fi show he’s currently obsessing over and his rambling commentary has you laughing at his nerdiness, when he sees a dog in public and immediately has to burst out for you to look at the puppy and you completely swoon over him because he may be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.
Just say it. Life is too damn short. Especially in your line of work.
“I love you Robby. If it screws everything up between us and we can’t move on from this I get it, but I can’t keep it in anymore I-I’m sorry.” You’re staring at your feet now, starting to wish you could just teleport to another place or jump in whatever Time Machine exists in his shows to go back to before this ever happened.
But Bob? Robert Floyd, man of your dreams? He’s not phased or shaken, not one bit. He leans in, pulls your face in with both his hands and kisses you like it’s something the two of you have always done, like it should be completely obvious to you that he’s always felt this way, he was just waiting for you to solve the puzzle yourself.
Pulling away far sooner than you’d like, he has the audacity to chuckle when you try to chase his lips.
“Silly girl, it’s always been you don’t you know that? I was just waitin’ on you to decide what you wanted, now mind you I didn’t think it’d take you this long, but I’d wait forever if it meant we ended up here.”
You let out a watery laugh as more tears stream down your face, Bob quick to swipe them away with his thumb.
“Come on sweets, let me take you home and we can spend all weekend talking about what our forever should look like, because now that I’ve got you I’m not letting you go.”
And you do just that, because he really is everything you ever dreamed.
#top gun maverick#bob floyd#top gun#robert bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#fluff
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Fire Force | No Touching
summary | when you place a bet that he can't even cum without your help, he accepts the challenge.
ft | benimaru, konro, joker
warnings | f!reader, nsfw, mutal masturbation, dirty talk
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Benimaru
The moment you set this challenge in motion, Benimaru is hesitant. He's not one to back down from a fight, but the second you shed your clothes and sprawl across the futon, he's losing all will. How can one be so cruel when they look so fucking pretty?
A drawn-out groan leaves his throat when you spread your legs, fingers inching closer and closer to your naked heat. This is torture you're teasing him. "This is supposed to go both ways you know?" you pout at him, seeing as he's still fully dressed in his uniform. The only thing amiss with his appearance was the evident tent in his pants; pants that need to be removed right now.
A barely noticeably blush crosses his face as grunts and gives in. It's only fair after all. He shoulders off the top half of his regular uniform and pops the button of his pants. You watch him from across the room as he strips and find it amusing how bashful he looks. It's not like you can laugh though, you're practically salivating at the sight of him.
"You're gonna kill me one of these days..." he mumbles mostly to himself. He leans against the wall across from you as he gives his hardened cock a few tugs. Mismatched red eyes bore into your form as his thumb swipes over the head. You can see the frustration radiating off of him, but you're not quick to give in. After all, he did agree, and you want to see how long it takes him to give up and take his loss out on you.
But Benimaru is determined to see this little challenge of yours through to the end. While he pumps his thick cock, he watches your circle your cute little fingers around your clit. In the back of his mind, however, he's planning about what he's going to do after he's won and how he's going to wreck you so bad you'll never suggest something like this again.
Konro
Konro's breath catches in his throat when he sees you stripped and bare for him when he comes back from a patrol. There's absolutely nothing more he wants than to feel your skin, to touch you. But you give him a warning look, reminding him of the arrangement you made earlier.
Internally, his thoughts are spiraling, but he stays as composed as he can possibly manage. He accepted this challenge, so he intends to make good on his word. Following in suit, Konro removes his own clothes, showing off his scarred muscles. You can't help but stare, and he notices.
Chuckling, he takes seat across from you and he can't help but admire you just as well. God, you look stunning. No matter how many times he's seen your naked form, he'll always remain in awe at your beauty.
Konro loves you and he knows you love him just as much. As he gets lost in admiration for you, he nearly forgets that you're currently across from him whimpering while you stuff your fingers into to your messy cunt. Even your face looks so cute when it's scrunched up in pleasure.
He sighs heavily while one hand runs down his waist to his cup his balls. Whenever he's alone usually, he'd always start off slow, working himself up while having you on his mind. But now that you're in front of him, watching him get himself off, he wants nothing more than to cum and get it over with.
No matter what silly request you make of him, Konro will want to follow through for you. So, he'll do this dumb idea of yours for now. But the second he comes, he's going to pounce on you. He loves you so much and just want to feel you so bad. So please be easy on him.
Joker
If it's a challenge you want, then it's a challenge you get. Whatever made you think this is a good idea, is beyond Joker, but he'll indulge you. He's always willing to try new things anyways. Since his secret hideout is void of any other occupants (Viktor), he takes the opportunity to undress himself.
"I'll do whatever you want, darlin', but don't start crying when you're beggin' me to shove my dick in you," he shrugs as he loosens his collar and kicks off his shoes. You have to scoff at him. There's no possible way you'll lose. He's the horndog in the relationship, not you.
He chuckles to himself at your overconfidence. Once all his clothes are stripped away, he digs for a cigarette from one of his pockets of the discarded clothes. He lights the stick and takes a drag before letting his back fall against the wall behind him and puff of grey smoke out of his mouth.
There he lazes in all his nude glory, raising a brow at you. With a cigarette in one hand, his other hand finds its way to the base of his already harden member. "Do you plan on holding your end of the deal or do you just wanna sit there drooling?" he asks as he begins to languidly pump his cock.
Involuntary, a moan slips past your lips at his demeaning tone, but you quickly try to cover it up with the fact that you're touching yourself. But like the know-it-all he is, Joker sees through you and smirks to himself. This is where the real funs begins.
Sooner or later, he's going to have you begging for him and he won't even have to lift a finger. Sure, he'll feign innocence and coo about how much you need him, and how he's willing to provide a helping hand.
You may have lost the challenge you put in place, but he'll make sure to comfort you in your loss by kindly plowing into you from behind and making sure your bedridden all tomorrow.
#fire force#enn enn no shouboutai#fire force smut#fire force x reader#fire force imagine#enn enn no shouboutai x reader#benimaru#benimaru shinmon#konro#konro sagamiya#fire force joker#karim flam#benimaru smut#benimaru x reader#enen no shouboutai#enen no shouboutai smut
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happy 3.5 k you 100% deserve it !!!! please could i put forward 33 . "are you jealous" with john shelby tysm have an amazing day
@henrywinterluver Thanks so much for your kind words and also for sending this request in! I’m sorry it took me so long to write it! I hope you like what I did with the prompt you chose! I envisioned this as season 3 Michael…after he started acting cocky haha. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!
Run in with a Cousin
John Shelby x Reader
Warnings: language
Word Count: 1170
Summary: Michael hits on (Y/N) one night at the Garrison. Michael doesn’t know that (Y/N) is John’s girl. (Y/N) tries to figure out why John reacts the way he does…in the process she learns of a family member she didn’t know John had.
(Y/N) was waiting for her drink at the Garrison’s counter when she felt someone slide into the empty space beside her. At first she ignored the person, wanting to get her drink and head back to the corner table she’d been occupying while she waited for her partner and his brothers to finish talking business. But the feeling of the man’s eyes lingering on her made her turn to face him just seconds later.
“May I help you?” she asked politely, wondering why he’d been staring at her.
“You might be able to,” the man said with a grin. (Y/N) tried so hard to keep her grimace internal.
“Oh yeah, how so?” she asked, deciding to humor him.
“I just couldn’t help but notice how bloody beautiful you are…and then when I saw that you were sitting here alone. I figured I’d come over and introduce myself,” he answered, inching closer to her as he spoke.
“Well thank you,” she accepted his compliment, still playing nice while making sure to add, “I already have someone though.”
The young man pursed his lips together at the added information before he looked around the room. “I don’t see him anywhere,” he commented on his observstion.
“Oh he’s here,” she assured him.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t still buy you a drink,” the man’s eyes were back on her as his grin returned, “nothin’ illegal with buying a pretty girl a drink…and maybe then we’ll see where that goes.”
A look of surprise flooded (Y/N)’s features as she heard what he had to say. “I think I may be a bit too old for you,” she pointed out. It wasn’t hard to notice that this man looked to be in his early twenties.
“Age is just a number, darlin’.”
(Y/N) didn’t know what to say back to that. So instead she just pursed her lips and nodded.
The young man was about to speak again when she caught a glimpse of her partner over his shoulder. Within seconds, John Shelby had approached them. She could tell by the scowl that had formed that he’d clocked the man she was talking to. (Y/N) tried to withhold her grin…things were about to get interesting.
“Hi, love,” she greeted him in a soft voice as he stopped by her side. He wasted no time in slipping his arm around her shoulders as she pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
“Who’s this?” he asked, nodding his head to the man that was on his right. He still hadn’t looked in his direction yet.
“Just someone I’ve been talking to,” she answered, glancing between the two as she spoke.
“This must be your man that you spoke about,” the man made his observation known.
“It is,” (Y/N) nodded.
Then John looked to his right. “Michael?” he said the name as if there was posion laced into it.
“John?” the man’s response was full of shock. “Fuck,” he breathed then, dropping his gaze to the floor.
“You were out here trying to get with my girl when you were supposed to be in the snug discussing business?” John questioned.
“I wasn’t, I didn’t know, I…we were just talking,” the younger of the two struggled to think of an answer.
“But she had to tell you that she had a man,” John pointed out.
“She’s a pretty girl!” Michael admitted, throwing his arms outward in exasperation.
“We’re leaving,” John said to (Y/N) then, his arm dropping from her shoulders to hook around her waist before he looked back to the man named Michael, “and you’d better think twice before trying any of this shit ever again. Got it?”
Michael nodded in response, clearly looking like a child who had just been scolded. Well that’s what he was though, right? He was basically still a child. That was all John needed though to turn and lead (Y/N) out of the pub.
It wasn’t until they made it to her home that someone spoke again. “I can’t fucking believe that happened,” John grumbled as he swiped his peaked cap from atop his head so that he could throw it down onto one of the chairs in the living room.
(Y/N) spun to look at him, immediately noticing that his deep scowl was still very much present. “We were just talking, John,” she told him, trying to get him to lighten up.
“Yeah, but he was talking with the intent of picking you up.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Because I came out and put an end to it.”
“You don’t think I would have put an end to it myself?” (Y/N) inquired, her eyebrows raised.
“I’m sure you would have, but that’s not…” he trailed off with a huff, running a hand down his face before he waved it out in the air, “that’s not the point, (Y/N). I just can’t fucking believe he tried that.”
(Y/N) studied her partner’s mannerisms for a few moments, wondering why this measly conversation had got him so worked up. Then it clicked. “Are you jealous?” she just had to ask him.
John’s eyes immediately snapped to her. “What?” he just had to ask, wanting to make sure he even heard her right.
“Are you jealous of me talking to him?” she repeated her previous question. “Because that’s all we were doing. Talking.”
“Fuck no, I’m not jealous of him!” John exclaimed in an incredulous manner, “why would I be jealous of my little shit of a cousin who’s got absolutely no chance with you?”
“He’s your cousin?” (Y/N) asked with wide eyes, completely shocked by this new information.
“Yes, he’s my cousin,” John answered with a nod.
“How?” the word left (Y/N)’s lips before she could think of anything else to string with it, “I mean I know how, but like…through who?”
“My aunt Pol. He’s her son.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It would have made things much easier if you did.”
“Well if you would have told me…” (Y/N) trailed off, her eyebrows raising again.
“It never came up!” John defended himself, “and besides, I’m not the problem here, he is.”
“It’s not even a problem though, John,” she sighed in response, wishing he’d let the minuscule issue go.
“I’m gonna tell Pol about it…then it won’t be a problem anymore,” he decided how he was going to remedy the situation.
“That might make it more into a problem,” she couldn’t help but giggle slightly as she thought of her partner, who was very much an adult, going to his aunt to tell on her son - who was also very much an adult.
“It’s what he deserves,” he stayed steadfast with his idea, nodding once after he spoke, as if he was agreeing with himself.
“Whatever you think, John,” (Y/N) appeased him, deciding to let the matter rest…although she knew that this wasn’t the last time she’d hear about this situation.
**tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out
MASTERLIST
#john shelby#john shelby x reader#john shelby x y/n#john shelby x you#john shelby blurb#john shelby imagine#john shelby fanfic#john shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders x you#peaky blinders blurb#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#k’s 3.5k celebration
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falling for you (flatmate!matty x reader)
promptober day 10, and there was nobody else i could have written this for. a fluffy but slightly angsty pining lovesick moment, before the two of you are actually flatmates and you're just babies on nights out in manc. i hope you enjoy!
p.s. yeah, i know the pic is the wrong era for this, lol. but it's alllll about the vibes <3
matty's trying his damnedest not to stare at you right now.
he's failing miserably, though. the copious amount of alcohol in his body is rinsing all the sense out of his brain - well, what little you hadn't already stolen from him when you met him earlier outside your halls of residence, all made-up and glowing - and he really cannot tear his eyes away from you, saying bye to your friends at the door of the nightclub.
matty blinks, and self-awareness hits him like a freight train. nah. he's being weird. he needs to get a grip.
but then you turn towards him, waiting on behalf of both of you in the cloakroom queue, and you smile, and all thoughts about stopping looking at you fly out of matty's head. how can he be expected to focus on anything but that face of yours? the vodka's made your beautiful eyes softer, and a combination of marlboros and mac lipstick have made your lips pouty and kissable. well, more so than usual, matty thinks.
he's so distracted by your beauty that he almost doesn't hear the cloakroom attendant shout him up to the window. stumbling slightly - he'd say over his own feet, you'd say due to drunkenness (and you'd be right) - matty exchanges his two tickets for the jackets you and him had been all but forced to wear to prevent the freezing october air getting to you, and wanders over to you. wordlessly, in a well-rehearsed routine, he slings his own jacket over his shoulder as he helps you into yours.
you murmur a thank you. "you hungry?"
for you, yes. for a kebab, no, matty wishes he could say. but he can't, so he just shakes his head.
"neither am i," you say, helping him zip up his leather jacket. your dexterity has been diminished by your drinking, and one of the fringes on the sleeve of your own coat gets stuck between the metal teeth of his. clearly, your brain has also been affected by the alcohol; you frown at the zip, unable to see why it won't move. "huh?"
matty smiles, moving to help you. "got caught on your coat. sorry, darlin'."
"oh, s'fine. thanks," you reply, as you're unstuck once again. with a smile, you hold a hand out to matty. "shall we?"
like he'd ever say no to you. "we shall."
and the walk back to your uni begins.
if it had been raining, matty would have done the gentlemanly thing and sprung for a taxi. but it isn't, for once; actually, he thinks, it's kind of a perfect night. the sky is inky-black, devoid of any clouds, and the two of you are just drunk enough that the streetlights look just as pretty as the stars you can't see from so far into the city like this. he's more thankful for the cold air now than he was before the two of you went out - after the close heat of the nightclub, and the internal glow of the however many shots you did, the coolness is welcome. that, and it forces you to secure matty's hand in your own for warmth, which is maybe the most perfect aspect of the night, in his opinion.
naturally, then, a pang of heartbreak hits him when you break the hold to rifle through your handbag. when you procure a half-empty pack of cigs, though, it dissipates.
"want one?" you ask, holding the open end of the packet towards matty.
"no thanks, sweetheart," he says. he isn't lying: the thought of anything clouding his vision of you, even cigarette smoke, is unbearable. but then a spark of an idea crackles somewhere in his brain - whether it's in spite of or because of his tipsy state, matty isn't sure, but either way it tells him he shouldn't be so quick to refuse. so, tentatively, he continues speaking. "i'll gladly share one with you, though."
you take your time answering, slowly pulling a cig from the pack and shoving the rest back in your bag, then digging around for your lighter. matty chews his cheeks during this performance, terror that he's overstepped a friendship boundary of some sort beginning to creep up his spine. but then you shrug, and say "alright", and he's fine.
well, he's not fine, actually - the next words that leave your mouth are "need your help to light it, though, matty".
fuck. his hands so close to your jaw, close enough that he could take hold of it and kiss you before his brain could convince him that it was too much of a risk to your friendship? that's dangerous.
god, he's so drunk. and so definitely in love with you.
what matty is first and foremost, though, is a good friend. shoving down any and all romantic and/or sexual thoughts about you and your lips as best he can (which is, admittedly, not very well), he turns to face you and takes the lighter from your hand. "c'mere then."
when you oblige, silently, and look up at him with your lips parted and those sparkly doe eyes of yours, matty bites the inside of his lip so hard he feels it bleed. christ. this was perhaps a bad idea.
but the cig is right there, waiting to be lit, so he takes a deep breath, cupping the lighter as he flicks the flame into existence and brings it to your mouth. the orange glow illuminates you quite beautifully, and suddenly matty's head is filled with thoughts of you across from him, like you are now, but sat at a candlelit, white-clothed table with a glass of wine and a fancy dinner before you. and, if he's being honest, also with thoughts of you underneath him, face blissful and softly lit by the candles dotted around the room as he fucks you slowly and tenderly.
for fuck's sake. you're his best friend. he can't be thinking of you like that. why can't he stop thinking about you like that tonight? maybe he's going insane. he has no idea. but whatever is compelling him seems to lessen as you step back and exhale the smoke. "thank you, babe."
babe? that's new. but not unwelcome, not at all. matty feels his heart flutter at the pet name.
"s'alright," he smiles. now it's his turn to hold out a hand. "shall we keep going?"
"mhmm," you quickly take another puff of the cig, before sliding it between matty's lips with a giggle and taking his hand; you have to tug him forward a few paces before he regains control of his brain, but he quickly manages it, and the walk home continues.
for the most part, it's uneventful, aside from the alien feeling of your hand constantly in matty's. that is, until he tries to be clever and inhale the cig mid-conversation, and ends up exhaling directly in your face when you turn to listen to him without him fully noticing.
you cough a little bit when the smoke hits you, and matty panics (and internally facepalms. what a fucking idiot he is) as he throws the cig on the ground and stamps it out. "shit! i'm so sorry, sweetheart, i didn't mean that! you alright?"
"s'ok, i'm ok, don't worry," you assure him, waving away both his fretting and the lingering smoke. when it clears from in front of your face, matty's heartbeat increases as he takes in your amused smile and your even-more-sparkly-than-earlier eyes. you're beautiful. you're fucking glowing. and you're tucking yourself under his arm and cosying into his side as you walk. jesus christ. "this is a lot better for us, don't you think?"
matty's cheeks lift into a smile. "definitely."
it really is better, matty thinks, walking towards the front door of your halls with you snuggled into his chest. much like every other aspect of matty's life, you fit seamlessly into his side - you just feel so right there, so natural, as if the two of you were biologically designed to be together. maybe someday, he hopes, you will be; not two best friends traipsing into uni accommodation for a post-night out sleepover, but a pair of lovers heading home after a date.
he doubts that'll actually happen, given that he'd have to go through the impossible task of telling you how he feels first, but still. it's a nice distant daydream, one he's still giddily thinking about when you unlock the front door and pull him through several more until you reach your bedroom.
you groan when you flick the light on and see the state of your bed, makeup palettes and hair products and failed outfit options strewn across it. matty immediately jumps into problem-solving mode; anything to stop you being unhappy, after all. "where do you want all this stuff, darlin'?"
"the fucking floor," you grumble.
"so… where i'm meant to sleep?"
your head snaps up, and you catch matty's eye in the mirror as you take your earrings out. "well," you turn to face him, your expression… nervous? "you could just, y'know, share the bed with me."
oh. matty can feel his heart pounding in his ears, diminishing the volume of your continuing (and frantic) monologue: "i mean, i know it'll be tight cos it's a single, and you've always insisted on sleeping on the floor even when i've offered to let you have the bed, but it's really cold tonight and i wouldn't mind the extra heat, and at least if we're sharing i know you won't be freezing and you'll be comfy, yeah?"
"ok," matty says, despite barely registering anything you said in his fugue state. he's drunk, and lovesick, but he's not an idiot. "yeah. we'll share."
your face breaks into a relieved smile. "ok. good. um, before that, would you…?"
"oh, of course," matty darts over to you as quickly as he can, while you turn to face the mirror again and lift your hair up. slowly, with fingers fumbling just as much from nerves as from alcohol consumption, he undoes the zip on the back of your dress. the perfume still lingering on the back of your neck clouds his brain with every breath he takes, and the organ threatens to completely shut down when matty pulls the zip down low enough to reveal a lack of bra clasps underneath your outfit. once he's finished undoing you, he steps back while he still has the ability to do so, turning away from you. "there you go."
"thank you," comes the reply from behind him, followed by the sounds of fabric rustling and drawers opening. matty busies himself with carefully clearing your bed, only turning back round when you tap his arm; he smiles when he sees you in a big t-shirt, hair shoved up messily and makeup half-removed, holding out a pair of sweatpants he recognises as his. "you left these here last time. i thought you might want them to sleep in. and i did wash them, before you ask."
you roll your eyes as matty presses the trousers to his nose anyway as a joke - when he registers that his clothes now smell like you and your washing powder, however, it stops being funny in favour of being lovelorn-inducing. but his smile quickly returns when he properly notices the design on the t-shirt you're wearing. "i cannot believe you're wearing a drive like i do shirt to bed. thought you were more proud of me, to be honest, darlin'."
"of course i am, but it's comfy," you protest, brow furrowing in the most adorable way as you frown. it softens wistfully as you continue. "and it reminds me of home."
weird, matty thinks. you're not from- oh. christ.
he's home, to you.
what a fucking thought that is. matty's not quite sure how he's managing to stay sane, but he smiles, pulling you into a tight hug and stroking your back. "that's very lovely of you, sweetheart."
"s'just the truth," you reach up on tiptoe to pat matty on the head, before pulling away. he misses you immediately. "you wanna get ready for bed?"
does he ever.
matty nods, kicking his shoes off and quickly undressing while you climb into bed. despite the fact you've seen him in shorts and nothing else before, he wonders if he should feel self-conscious as he strips to his underwear in front of you; something's definitely different with the two of you tonight, matty's sure of it, and he can't quite tell if that's a good or bad thing. probably good, although that might be wishful thinking on his part, just like the way he's convinced your eyes linger on his torso with interest in the mirror when he takes his shirt off.
anyway. clad in his sweatpants and no more, matty climbs into your single bed. he tries to get as comfy as he can, facing away from and without touching you - whether that's to ensure your space and comfort or to stop himself from agonising over how much he likes you, matty has no idea. he isn't comfortable in the slightest, but he'll endure it.
you, on the other hand, have other ideas. with a sigh of "daft boy", you move forward so your body is against matty's back, slinging an arm and leg over his front and spooning him. "is this alright? i figured it was the best way to keep us warm."
"it's perfect, sweetheart," matty replies, and he isn't lying. despite how much it hurts being so close to you and repressing how he really feels about you, matty's surprisingly chill about the way you're clinging to him. cautiously, but feeling compelled to do so, he brings his hand up to stroke your thigh; when you hum contentedly, matty rests it there. "goodnight."
"mmm, night," you yawn out, the blanket of sleep falling on you fast. "love you."
matty smiles, half sadly, half dreamily. "love you too, darlin'."
the next day, he writes a new song.
#mads muses#mads does writing#promptober75#flatmate!matty#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fluff#matty healy angst#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fic#matty healy x reader#matty x reader
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A Baker's Dozen - Eight
Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.
Hello!
Pedro boy number eight is ready to swagger into the bakery and I've only got four more weeks of this! I realised the very final chapter would be posted on February 12th so lets delay it by two days and end this on Valentine's Day, seeing as this is the fluffiest, most romantic thing I've ever written. Feels very appropriate to end it with my favourite Pedro boy on Valentine's Day. 🥰
This chapter is dedicated to my lovely, sweet friend @ladybess-a03 who, in my world, is this Pedro boy's beautiful wife.
Series Master List
“Is the rodeo in town?” the kid who works extra over the weekends in the bakery asks, raising their eyebrows and nodding towards the window. You look over and catch a glimpse of the man striding across the street. The comment is pretty accurate, he certainly looks like a cowboy; a slick cowboy dressed up for the city in a well tailored suit that hugs his narrow hips and wide shoulders, topped off with a black Stetson and suede shoulder patches.
“Pretty good looking cowboy,” you say and the kid snorts, hanging their apron on the hook and giving you a quick wave goodbye. The cowboy reaches the bakery door and holds open the door for them before he steps inside.
“Afternoon, miss,” he says, greeting you with a polite tip of his Stetson, two fingers on the brim, as he saunters up to the counter, his lips quirking up in a smile.
“Afternoon, sir,” you reply, returning his polite greeting with a smile of your own. Internally you’re swooning and giggling, there’s a smoothness to the man that makes you want to twirl your imaginary braid and kick your heels.
“Sir,” he says, chuckling as he puts one hand on the counter, the other on his hip, pushing back his jacket and revealing a large belt buckle in the shape of a hip flask, “makes me feel about a hundred, darlin’. Call me Jack.” He offers you his hand, dwarfing your own as you shake it.
“Alright, how can I help you, Jack?” you ask as the warmth of his hand lingers on yours.
“Pie, sugar, I’m in a real mood for some pie,” he says, patting his belly with a grin, “And I heard you might be the best baker in town so I had to see for myself,” he winks, “if the rumors are true.”
“I don’t know about best baker in town,” you smile back, “but thanks for the vote of confidence. What kind of pie are you in the mood for?”
“Well, I’m an old fashioned cowboy, southern born and bred, so I doubt you’ll be surprised when you hear that I’d love some pecan pie, sugar,” he says, pointing to the one pecan pie you have in your display.
“Not old fashioned,” you say, crouching down to slide the pie out, “but maybe traditional. And it’s a great pie,” you put it on the counter and Jack chuckles.
“Honey, I’m anything but traditional, but I have a soft spot for pecan pie,” he says, putting an arm up on the display case and leaning in, his mouth pulling up in a crooked grin, “Sweet pecan pie, and sweet bakers,” he winks at you again and you feel your cheeks heat up and busy yourself adjusting the pie on the counter, trying to bite back the grin that’s threatening to split your face in half before you look up at the smiling cowboy again, his dark eyes twinkling under the brim of his Stetson.
“Would you like the whole thing, or just a slice?” you ask and Jack grins.
“Oh, sugar, I want the whole damn thing,” he replies and you swallow loudly. He keeps his eyes on you as you squirm under his gaze, your cheeks burning up as you quickly duck under the counter and grab one of the take away boxes. You’ve never met a man who so shamelessly flirts with anyone and you hear him chuckle as you look for the right sized box.
Jack is still smiling as you pop back up and start folding the flat cardboard, butterflies fluttering in your stomach under his gaze.
“This pie sure smells wonderful, darlin’,” he says, leaning in closer and drawing a deep breath, his arm still on the display case as he puts a hand on his waist, but he’s got his eyes on you, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a smile under his neat mustache.
“I hope it’ll taste as good as it smells then,” you reply, just to reply something. His over the top charm shouldn’t be getting to you so easily, but you’re practically a puddle at this point, any coherent sentence from you is a win and Jack seems to notice your reaction to his flirting and clearly loves how he’s getting to you, judging by the size of his grin.
“I’m absolutely certain it will be every bit as sweet as you, sugar,” he purrs, his hand coming up to rub over his smooth jaw.
You manage to slide the pie into the box and close the lid, pushing it over the counter to Jack, giving him a flustered smile.
“Here you go then, enjoy,” you say, “Please let me know what you think, if you’re passing by again.”
“And what do I owe you, honey?” he asks, reaching back and pulling out a slim black wallet from his pocket.
“Uh…umm…” you stutter, the prices, that are usually seared into your brain, have wandered off under the onslaught of Jack’s charm and you fumble for the price list next to the till, “Twenty-four, ninety-nine,” you finally get out and Jack pulls out two twenties and hands them over.
“Keep the change, sugar, you’re undercharging for both the pie and the company,” he says, grinning as he winks at you again.
“Oh thank you, sir-Jack,” you reply, “but that’s really not necessary.”
“I know, but I want to,” he smiles, softer this time, “And I’ll be sure to let you know how much I like it,” He slides a hand under the box, carefully lifting it up as he tips his hat at you, two fingers on the brim again.
“Have a good evening, darlin’,”
“Same to you Jack, enjoy the pie.”
“Oh, I will, I’m sure,” Jack grins, pushing the door open, letting a new customer in.
“Ma’am,” he says, giving her a tip of his hat before he disappears with a final smile at you.
“What a handsome man,” Mrs Morales says as she comes up to the counter, “and such good manners.”
“He was very well mannered,” you smile at her as she comes up to the counter, “What can I get for you today, Mrs Morales?”
…
When the doorbell jingles in the middle of the morning a few days later, you’re pleasantly surprised to see Jack’s smiling face above the small crowd of customers. He gives you a two fingered salute, tipping his hat, before he sits down at one of the café tables to wait. The crowd slowly thins out and eventually it’s Jack’s turn, and you notice that he’s choosing to wait until he can be served by you and not your shop assistant.
“Hi Jack,” you smile at him as he comes over. He’s opted for a more casual look today you notice, a black leather jacket and white t-shirt instead of his slick suit, but the Stetson is still on his head as he gives you a crooked grin.
“Hi there, sugar,” he drawls, his southern twang even more pronounced, “you’re looking real gorgeous today, if you don’t mind me saying so.” He winks as he leans on the counter, giving you his most winning smile and you can practically hear the eye roll from your assistant down by the till.
“Thanks, you’re not looking to shabby yourself,” you smile back at him and he puffs his chest, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder.
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
“How was the pecan pie?” you ask and Jack grins widely.
“Just as sweet as the gorgeous baker girl who made it,” he croons, “I may have eaten the whole thing already.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” you smile, your cheeks heating up at his praise and Jack chuckles, taking off his Stetson and fanning you with it.
“Is it hot in here, darlin’, or is my praise heating you up there?”
“Oh shut up,” you reply, trying to give him a scowl but failing as he runs his free hand through his dark hair, smoothing out the unruly locks that have been hidden under his hat, before he puts it back on. The simple action shouldn’t make a shiver run down your spine but you feel your mind go temporarily blank as he adjusts the brim to his liking. As he cocks his head and gives you a playful smirk, the corner of his lip curling up, you try to snap out of it.
“So what can I do for you today, Jack?”
“How about another pecan pie, darlin’?” he asks, glancing over the display cases and spotting the one you made this morning.
“Another one?”
“What can I say, your pie is calling my name, sugar,” he grins and winks at you, hooking his thumb into the pocket of his tight jeans.
“I’ll make sure to keep making it for you then, Jack,” you giggle and slide the fresh pecan pie from the shelf and into a carton.
“I’ll be a steady customer for sure,” he says and reaches back for his wallet, handing you his card with a smile, “no other bakery has better pecan pie.” You fight the grin on your face as you charge his card and go to hand it back to him, but he gently takes your hand instead, pulling you closer to him over the counter, “And the most gorgeous baker to make them,” he whispers, his low voice rich and warm as you feel his warm breath slip over your cheek.
He gives you a wink and lets go of your hand, stepping back from the counter and letting the next customer step forward as he tips his hat to you.
“What a charmer,” Mrs Levinson says, pulling your attention away from Jack as she puts her handbag on the counter. “But I always preferred a man in a suit, and a bit less forward if I may say so.” She wrinkles her nose at you, dismissing Jack as you try to stifle a giggle.
“I think he was just the right amount of forward, Mrs Levinson,” you reply with a smile, “Would you like your usual order today?”
“Yes please, dear. But add one of those Lemon Meringue Pies please. I’m going over to Mrs York’s place later,” she adds the last part with a sigh. “So sad, her son and his wife have just split up, they have two such beautiful daughters.”
“Didn’t they divorce last spring, Mrs Levinson?”
“Yes, at Easter, but he’s still single and she’s found some new man,” Mrs Levinson shakes her head as you place the pie next to her usual bread order, “he’s such a handsome boy, always wears a suit too, he’d be a real catch for you, my dear.”
“I’ve got plenty on my plate already, Mrs Levinson,” you smile, thinking of Jack’s flirting and tight jeans, “I just don’t have time for any more right now.”
“You have to let yourself have some fun too, can’t be all work,” the old lady scolds you mildly as you hand her the change and she puts everything away. “I’ll tell Mrs York to send him here for some time soon, I’m sure you’d like him.” She gives you a cheeky wink and waves goodbye, letting the next customer in line step up.
The next time Jack comes by the bakery, he’s back in his sharp suit, and tips his Stetson at you with a wink as he comes up to the counter.
“Seeing as I was found lacking last time, I thought it best to suit up,” he chuckles and you can’t help but roll your eyes as you laugh.
“Mrs Levinson has a sharp eye for handsome men, but might be a little bit old fashioned,” you reply, “But I do like your suit, it’s very ‘you’, Jack.”
“Thank you, sugar, I do like to dress the part for work,” he straightens his impeccable hat again.
“So what brings you back here, Jack? You can’t possibly have eaten two whole pecan pies in just a few days?”
“I certainly could’ve,” he chuckles, patting down the front of his suit jacket, “but I was kind enough to share it with my colleagues and told them you have the best pie in town, and I think you might be getting more customers soon.”
“That’s very nice of you, and thanks for the recommendation”, you smile, but Jack shakes his head.
“Only telling the truth, sugar,” he winks, “and I’ve promised them to bring another pie tomorrow so could I trouble you?”
“Of course, I’ve been making extra just for you, Jack” you smile and Jack’s face lights up, a wide grin making a dimple appear in his cheek as he rubs a hand over his neat mustache.
“Honey, you’re spoiling me rotten, how can I ever repay you?”
“Well, I’d say twenty-four, ninety-nine, but this one’s on the house,” you scoot the box with the pie over the counter towards Jack who’s furiously shaking his head.
“You know I can’t accept that, sugar. You’re already undercharging as it is,” he says, pulling out his wallet from inside his suit jacket as you raise your hand to stop him.
“Jack, if you pull out that wallet any further I’ll have to ban you from the bakery, it’s on the house.”
Jack’s eyes go wide, “You wouldn’t?” he exclaims with mock horror as you nod emphatically.
“Oh I would, Jack,” you grin, pointing to the door, “Now take your pie and leave that wallet in your pocket.”
Jack shakes his head as he picks up the pie box, “I’ll pay you somehow, sugar, but thank you very much for the pie.”
“You’re very welcome, Jack,” you smile at him as he carefully brings two fingers to the brim of his Stetson and gives you a nod.
“‘Till next time, darlin’.”
You do sell a couple of more pecan pies over the next few days and you wonder if your new customers are Jack’s colleagues as you add extra pecans to your online grocery order. Thanks to Jack you’ve gone through your stores of pecans in record time, and as you tap your pen on your notebook you toy with the idea of making variations of it for Jack to try. The jingle of the bell above the bakery door pulls you out of your thoughts and you look up. Your heart skips a little beat when you recognise the black Stetson.
“Hey there, gorgeous,” Jack calls to you as he spots you in the kitchen, “I’m not too late am I?”
“Not at all, I’m closing in about five minutes, I’m just ordering next week’s groceries,” you wave him in behind the counter and he comes to the door into your kitchen, putting an arm up over his head as he leans on the frame.
“More pecans?” he winks and you laugh.
“How did you know? I’m running low on them, someone keeps buying all my pies.”
“A few of my colleagues said they’ve stopped by and bought a couple of pies,” he says as you try to discreetly glance at his tall frame as he leans against the door post. He’s back in his white t-shirt and black leather jacket this evening, and the way the shirt rides up over the edge of his tight jeans as he stretches his arm, a sliver of tanned skin peeking out, has your mind going blank.
“Oh, y-yeah,” you stutter as your brain slowly comes back online, “A very nice woman with short black hair and glasses came in and bought one, but it was busy and I didn’t get a chance to ask if she worked with you.”
“Ginger,” Jack smiles, “she’s the one who asked me where I got it. Tried telling her I made it myself but, funnily, she didn’t buy it,” he chuckles and comes into the kitchen, leaning over your shoulder to look down at your notes, “What are you working on there, sugar?”
“I was thinking of making some variations of the pie,” you say, “maybe one with a hint of lemon, or a bourbon chocolate one?”
“Now you’re talking my kind of language, sugar,” Jack grins, tapping the ridiculously large belt buckle in the shape of a hip flask that sits on his belt.
“Don’t tell me you actually have bourbon in that?” you ask, your eyebrows shooting up and Jack nods and grins.
“Of course, sugar! Never know when I might need a shot,” he laughs, unclipping the hip flask from his belt and flipping open the top, holding out for you to smell. The rich, warm aroma of the bourbon wafts up and you inhale deeply.
“That smells so good, Jack, it’s giving me ideas!”
“What kinds of ideas, sugar?” Jack drawls, winking at you as he leans on your workbench, his eyes suddenly level with yours, all chocolate brown and warm. Your cheeks heat up as he takes a swig from the hip flask, his eyes never leaving yours, and then offers it to you.
“Baking ideas,” you force out, almost jumping out of your skin as his fingers slip over your hand when you take the flask from him. The warm whiskey goes down smooth and warm, heating you up from the inside as it lands in your belly, and your eyes come back to Jack’s. He’s looking at you with a smile, one corner of his mouth pulled up as he takes the flask back from you.
“Are you making me a new pecan pie straight away, honey? Because I absolutely have room for dessert…” he trails off with a quirk of his eye brows. You bite down on your lip to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot, little hot sparks are erupting in your stomach and they have nothing to do with the bourbon. Jack runs the tip of his tongue over the edge of his lip, catching an errant drop of whiskey and you follow the movement with your eyes, his plush bottom lip disappearing for a moment as he sucks it in, wetting it.
“Cream!” you blurt out.
Jack raises his eyebrows questioningly, “Cream?” The tone of his voice has dropped about an octave and there’s no mistaking the suggestion in his voice.
“No! Yes! I-I mean, whipped cream, with bourbon, for the pie,” you flounder, pointing to Jack’s hip flask as his smile widens.
“That sounds like the most perfect addition to your pie, sugar. Right now?”
“Yeah, if I can use a few tablespoons of your whiskey?”
“You can have whatever you want, darlin’,” Jack replies, unclipping the bottle again and handing it to you.
“Grab the pie from the display case,” you tell him as you open the fridge to pull out the whipping cream. You hear Jack go back to the front and bring the pie back to the workbench, as you pull out a hand mixer and a bowl, he shrugs out of his leather jacket and hangs it on the back of your chair before he comes back to the table. The white t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders as he leans on the workbench next to you.
“So I finally get to see you in action,” he says as you measure out two tablespoons of whiskey from his flask before handing it back to him.
“For about the two minutes it’s going to take to make this,” you smile and start the hand mixer. Jack grabs the bowl and holds it steady while you slowly start whipping the cream, adding powdered sugar as you go along with the whiskey. Soon the cream has transformed to pillowy clouds and you stop the mixer. You can smell the bourbon and so can Jack, he leans forward and inhales deeply.
“This smells gorgeous, sugar, just the thing for the pie I think.”
You giggle as he stands up again, a small dollop of cream clinging to the tip of his nose.
“You’ve got some cream on your nose there, Jack,” you smile and Jack laughs, going cross eyed as he tries to spot it. With a swipe of his finger he catches the dollop and puts his finger in his mouth.
“Mmm…delicious,” he says, grinning around his finger as you smile back at him, grabbing a couple of plates and a knife for cutting.
“Should be even better with the pie,” you say, giving Jack a generous slice and then cutting another one for yourself before spooning the bourbon infused cream next to both slices.
Jumping up on the workbench, you grab your plate as Jack takes a step closer, picking up his own piece. You swipe your finger through the cream on your plate, wanting to taste it without the pie first. But Jack beats you to it, his hand comes out and grabs your wrist, his calloused fingers closing gently around your soft skin as he pulls your hand to his lips. The wet heat of his mouth envelops your finger as he sucks it in, his tongue brushing over your digit, and you gasp.
The sensation of his tongue running along your finger shoots electricity through your body and you exhale sharply, your eyes locked on Jack’s mouth as he studies your reaction. As your eyes come back up to his he lets your finger slip from between his lips, leaning forward and capturing your chin with his hand. He pauses for a second, waiting for your permission, and as you lean into him, he presses a soft kiss to your mouth. A low groan slips from him and the taste of bourbon and cream fills your mouth as he tenderly dips his tongue in between your lips. Your hand comes up to his shoulder to brace yourself, his hot mouth on yours making your pulse rase. You lean into him, needing to taste more of his mouth and his arm comes around your waist, pulling you close.
“You taste even better than the pie, sugar,” Jack mumbles against your mouth, cupping your cheek with his large hand as you chase his lips.
“You too, Jack,” you moan, letting him angle your face so that he can deepen the kiss, fervently licking into your mouth as he pulls you closer to his chest, your legs wrapped around his waist where he stands between them. His body is warm through the cotton of his t-shirt, his muscles moving under your palms as you explore the planes of his back. Jack lets his mustache tickle across your cheek, your jawline, as he slowly moves his lips with small, wet kisses, along your sensitive skin, trailing a path down your neck. His dark hair is thick and soft when you curl your fingers into the back of it, Jack tilting your head back as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his nose buried in your hair.
“So sweet, darlin’,” he mutters, his voice muffled, “smells like butter and sugar.”
“Come up here and kiss my lips again, Jack,” you protest, tugging light at his hair and he chuckles, inhaling deeply.
“Anything for you, honey,” he replies, his big hand cupping the back of your head as he drags the cool tip of his nose up your neck and jaw, bumping against yours. When you lock eyes again he’s smiling softly, all the confident cockyness gone, replaced by warmth and affection. His lips part slowly as you pull him closer, his tongue teasing yours, making you lick into his mouth.
He hums softly, his hand caressing your back, finding the divot of your spin and trailing his fingers up and down. In the quiet kitchen all you can hear are his low groans and your own gasps as each kiss traces sparks along your nerves. Jack’s fingers press into your back as heat builds between you, his hips slowly grinding in a movement so unhurried it’s as if he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. When his warm palms find their way up under your shirt, rough calluses stroking gently over your curves, you lean back, pulling him with you until you're flat on your back, Jack leaning down over you.
“Gorgeous…” he mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck again, his hands pushing further up your shirt.
“Oh no!” he suddenly exclaims, lifting his head up from your throat and holding up his hand, covered in mushed up pecan pie.
“You’re on top of it, honey,” he laughs, helping you sit up, and you hear the plate clatter to the bench behind you. Now that you’re up, you can feel the stickiness against your back, and you twist, trying to see how much of a mess you’ve made.
“Is it all over my back?” you ask and Jack looks over your shoulder and nods.
“I’m afraid so, sugar, your shirts covered in it. Do you have something to change into?”
“No, I took everything home to wash yesterday,” you grumble, twisting your arm up behind your back and feeling the remains of the pie.
“Here,” Jack says, standing up straight and swiftly pulling his own t-shirt off, “I’ll wear just the jacket, you take my shirt.” He holds it out to you and you hesitate, temporarily mesmerized by the sudden sight of Jack’s bare chest, tan and smooth with a trail of dark hair disappearing into his jeans.
You swallow and pull your eyes up to his face again, “I can’t take your t-shirt, Jack.”
“Why not? Take it, I’ve got plenty more, and I kinda like the idea of you in my shirt,” he winks and takes a step closer again, making you grab his shirt as he bends and places a wet kiss on your lips, “And this way, I can come by your place and pick it up. Or leave another one.”
He grins as stands up again, “C’mon, sugar, take that one off and let me see you in mine.” He helps you by putting his hands back on your waist and pushing up under your ruined shirt. You peel it off gingerly, trying to avoid getting pie in your hair, and Jack’s eyes darken as you sit in front of him in just your bra.
“Want me to put it on straight away, Jack?” you tease him as you watch him take in your shape.
“No..but yeah, or we’re not leaving this bakery anytime soon, darlin’,” he chuckles, and you pull his t-shirt over your head as Jack sighs in mock disappointment. The soft cotton is still warm from his body and smells just like Jack, you have to inhale as it slips over your head. When you pop out from underneath it Jack is watching you with a small smile.
“Beautiful,” he says softly, his hand coming up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you feel your cheeks heat up.
“Do you want more pie, Jack?” you ask, pointing to the remaining pie and Jack’s eyebrows quirk up.
“What do you think, sugar?” he smirks and you laugh.
“I think you’ve got three empty pie forms at home and an extra hole in your belt.”
“Not yet, but soon,” he grins, patting his small belly, “C’mon, sugar, let me drive you, make sure my shirt gets to its new home safely.”
“I’ve got my own car, but thanks for the offer, Jack,” you smile at him and slip your arms around his neck again. “Come by soon, I’ll have more pie for you.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it, sugar.”
Part Nine
This week's recipe comes courtesy of @goodwithcheese who shared her own Pecan Pie recipe with me! Thank you Megan!
Megan’s Pecan Pie
3 eggs
½ cup/100g sugar
1 cup/250 ml dark corn syrup
3 tablespoons melted butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt
2 cups/approx 250g chopped pecans
Whisk together all ingredients except the pecans. Stir in the pecans and pour the mixture into an unbaked pie crust and bake for 40 minutes at 350F/175C.
@harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers
#pedro pascal character fanfiction#jack daniels#agent whiskey#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels fanfic
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yours and soda's first argument
Sodapop Curtis x Reader - First Fight
Authors Note - So sorry for not writing this sooner, I don't really have an excuse, I just never felt like it.
Enjoy!
• The fact the two of you even fought is crazy to me
• I think Soda is pretty good with communication
• Like he comes to you if he's hurt, you go to him, there's no secrets between either of you
• But there's one thing we all know
• Just because Sodapop has a partner doesn't mean the girls will leave him alone
• Maybe one of them go a bit too handsy while you were coincidentally at DX
• Poor Sodapop has no idea they're flirting because he's just like 'okay, they're touching my arm, weird but you do you'
• Then she gets more handsy
• And the thing that made you mad is Sodapop didn't do shit about it
• This random girl was practically feeling him up and he was just smiling and talking to her, trying to get customer service points
• I'd be mad too
• You know Soda would never cheat on you
• But still, if some random guy had his hand on your bicep you'd say something about it
• At least lean away
• But Sodapops just sitting there, all smiles.
• So eventually Soda comes back to the Curtis house where you often are, all excited to tell you about what Steve did today
• Only to be met with you
• His first thought is 'aw, she had a bad day'
• Which is so sweet holy shit
• But back to the beef
• You, obviously, confront him
"Hey.. how come you were letting that girl touch you like that?"
• He's gotta think for a second because he doesn't even remember any girl
• Then it clicks
• Shit, she was flirting??
• Aw fu-
"It ain't anythin' important"
• Right when he said it he regretted it
• 'WHAT THE HELL'RE YOU THINKING??'
" What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"It's nothing."
"What, you let hot girls feel you up and then come home to me all sunshiney?"
"It's not-.."
• This idiot
• His swore his brain wasn't working
"Why ya' gotta be so jealous?"
• Oh shit
• He could've sworn he heard a snap in your nervous system
"What?"
"Look, darlin', I didn't-"
"Can you shut up for one second? What the hell do you mean?"
• He can't even respond
• He's still internally slapping himself on the forehead
"Are you gonna just stand there?"
"I.."
• You just rolled your eyes (understandable) and walked off
• The moment you left he slapped him in the forehead with an audible 'pow'
• After that, if you're like me, you kept your distance
• Cause, for a good reason, you're pissed
• Sodapop goes to Darry for advice
• And of course Darrys response is
"Are you stupid?"
"I dropped outta school, Dar', course I'm stupid."
"Yeah but I didn't think you were that stupid"
• He tells Soda to give you your space
• And Soda tries, he really does
• But he just can't avoid you
• He's literally head over heels for you and he's supposed to just ignore you??
• So eventually he finally manages to track you down
• This man is practically on his knees begging you to forgive him
"I'm so sorry, I ain't never do it again, it was stupid I know-"
• If I were in your shoes I'd start laughing
• Or maybe you're still mad
• Or you're smiling at the apology, depends on who you are.
• But it's practically impossible not to forgive him
• He said "I'm sorry" at least 500 times by now
• He sounds like Eminem at this point
• So either you're
A) "I forgive you, Soda"
Or
B) To stubborn to forgive so you just kiss him
• I'm personally a B but you do you
• It's the sweetest kiss ever
• Pure wattpad fanfiction kiss
• Soft and sweet with both of you smiling into it
• Especially Soda
• He hasn't tasted you in like.. 1 day
• That's practically an eternity
• In summary
• Arguments with Soda rarely happen
• And if they do they last for 3 days max
• Normally with Sodapop knocking at your window with some roses and his award winning smile
• And no matter how big the problem is
• You always end up making out
• Gotta love Soda
#the outsiders#the outsiders headcanons#sodapop curtis#the outsiders x reader#sodapop headcanons#steve randle#ponyboy curtis#dallas winston#darry curtis#two bit mathews#johnny cade#sodapop curtis x reader#the outsiders sodapop#sodapop x reader#sodapop curtis headcanons
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hey! I saw that your requests are open! so i can ask for an eddie x reader where she tries to understand more about d&d or metal, those things to try to please her bf, however eddie doesn't have a good day and ends up mocking and embarrassing her. I liked your account, if you don't like this, please ignore me! 💗
of course my love, i loved this ask! and thank you for the compliment <3
warnings: fem!reader. pet names. established relationship. angst, but it ends in fluff. swearing. j*son c*rver mentions [1.7k]
As Eddie exits the torturous walls of Hawkins High, he exhales a sigh of relief. If he was being honest, today had been a shit day. Jason was in one of his moods where he decided to turn all of his obvious internal issues into spiteful words towards him. Something that on the last day of school of ‘86 was not the ideal send off.
He needed to see one person, one girl. His girl.
Eddie walks over to his van, leaning against it as he lights a cigarette, knowing you, his girlfriend, should be there any minute.
But, two smoked cigarettes later, and you were nowhere to be found. Not a trace of you in sight.
“Fuck,” he grits out, throwing his blunt cigarette on the ground and stomping it out harshly with the heel of his shoe, the underneath becoming more destroyed by the day.
He swings open the door, sliding in his seat before slamming it shut, huffing out in frustration. He puts the keys in, turning on the engine, Metallica’s “Kill ‘Em All” blasting through the speaker as he sets off towards his trailer.
Where the fuck were you?
The sound of the bell ringing alerted the store clerk, you pushing open the door with a nervous expression on your face.
You slowly makes your way to the counter, asking the tall man, “Um, hi. I was wondering if you had the latest album by… um, AC/DC, I think they are called?”
“Sure thing!” he replies cheerily, “You want cassette or vinyl?”
“Um, cassette please, thank you.”
Eddie had been rambling for months about their latest album. He’d already bought the album on vinyl, practicing the newest tracks until his fingers were numb and red. However, he recently talked about owning the album on cassette, that way he could take his latest obsession on the go with him.
So, trying to be the supportive girlfriend you are, you went on a hunt to track down the cassette yourself, even if you weren’t the most knowledgable on metal music. But, hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?
After gnawing at your nails in the middle of the store, the man returns from the back, holding up a brand new cassette.
“Here you go, ‘Who Made Who,’ freshly delivered here this week.”
Huh, the name didn’t sound right. You could’ve sworn this was the album Eddie was talking about. Pretty damn sure the artist was correct too. You were no metalhead, but the constant talkings from your boyfriend sure let you in on a lot of facts.
Nevertheless, you take the tape from the man’s hands, eyeing the cover. A blue background. You were certain Eddie’s was red. Maybe they changed the cover for the cassette release?
“Thank you. Just what I needed,” you replied, smiling through your doubts.
“‘Course darlin’,” he says, “That’s $8.”
After giving the clerk your $10 bill, he gives you $2 in return, before you bid farewell and exit the store.
Now, to surprise Eddie.
It took five knocks before you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend, his hair a fluffy mess and eyes red. The poor boy looked exhausted.
“Hey, baby,” he practically slurs in tiredness, “What are you doing here?”
It was 5pm. You were meant to meet him at 3:30, the end of the school day. He should be feeling more thankful than he was, but with everything that went on during today’s hellish time at Hawkins High, he was knocking on death’s door, both emotionally and physically.
“Um, hi babe!” you reply, holding your hands behind your back, “I have a surprise for you.”
He looks at you dumbfounded, “Uh, thanks, I guess. Where were you earlier on?”
“Well,” you cheerily say, taking a seat on his couch, “This gift may be the answer to that question.”
You hand over the cassette, Eddie taking it in his hands to eye up the cover, just like you did in the store a mere thirty minutes before.
You start to ramble, explaining the reason as to why you made the purchase, “You’ve been rambling a lot about how you owned this on vinyl, but wanted it on tape so you could blast it in your van, so I decided to go out and buy it for you!”
Eddie looks at the cassette you placed in his hands with the upmost confusion. He’d never spoken about AC/DC recently. The only album he’d rambled about to you was Metallica’s “Master of Puppets,” even showing you how he mastered the solo to the titular song.
He shakes his head, a soft laugh coming out of mouth as he replies, “Jesus babe, your listening skills are not working well recently, are they?”
The sense of pride you felt quickly diminished at Eddie’s harsh words. You second guessed yourself already, but decided to trust Eddie’s words over your own, but maybe your worries were right after all.
“Wait, did I do something wrong?” you ask sheepishly, the nervousness slowly creeping back in.
He chuckles, “Baby,” he looks up at you, “You think this shit is metal? Yeah, because talking about how you want to pound women is what we write about. So incredibly metal babe,” he rolls his eyes, scoffing at the association between the two bands.
Before you can even get a word in, Eddie is rushing to his bedroom as you sit there alone for a couple of seconds, the guilt beginning to settle uncomfortably at the bottom of your stomach.
Eddie was usually very patient when it came to you learning about his hobbies. You were sort of polar opposites in the sense that you knew practically nothing about the aspects of his life that defined him. D&D, metal music, Lord of the Rings? Your knowledge on them was subpar.
But, he was willing to teach you, give you the basics, help you understand him more. It built your relationship in that way. But, something about him today was different. That sense of understanding and patience had flown out of the window, a sense of moral righteousness in the subject taking over.
He quickly returns, holding up the vinyl in his hands. You were right. A red background. Definitely not the same as the cassette you had purchased.
Putting the two side by side, he scoffs again, “Sweetheart, tell me one thing about these two covers that look remotely similar. Because to me, they look like completely different albums.”
You’re trying not to let the tears prick at your eyes. All you wanted to do was show that you supported him in his interests. Living in small town Indiana meant that Eddie was constantly called a “Satan Worshipper” simply for listening to the genre. And now that you were one of the only people who accepted and supported him in his identity, you were met with sarcasm and distaste.
You sigh out, knowing that you had riled up your boyfriend. Grabbing your purse, you stand up and walk towards the door, “I’m just gonna go, Eds.”
This made Eddie snap back to reality, realising the words that were coming out of his mouth. You were indeed no expert on metal, and who was he to judge you for that? He couldn’t expect everyone to know as much as he did.
He places both the cassette and vinyl on the kitchen counter, “Wait, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Let me explain—“
But, you cut him off with a disappointed expression on your face, “No, Eds, it’s okay. I know I suck at knowing metal, and obviously I’ve pissed you off by not listening to you well enough. So, next time, I’ll let you buy it yourself. It’ll save all this hassle.”
The guilt was now settling in Eddie’s stomach just like it did yours. But, before he could muster up some quick apology to save himself, you were out the door and gone.
Eddie leans his head down on the counter between his arms, breathing out a “Fuck,” as he realises his mistake.
He needed to make up for this somehow. And not in some half-assed way that he was making up on the spot. He needed to clear his head and plan this out. He needed to prove himself to you.
Once you got home, you headed straight to your room. You couldn’t be dealing with the weight of Eddie’s words, so you took off your make-up and changed into pyjamas, lying in bed until your body decided it was time to sleep.
But, with your mind racing, your body was doing anything but relaxing. It was 9pm by this point, you wishing that a peaceful slumber would take place any minute.
But, the sound of frantic knocking at your bedroom window alerts you from your relaxation. Groaning as you lift up the covers, you pull back the curtain to the sight of your boyfriend, a guilt-ridden look across his face.
You sigh as you pull up the window, “What do you want, Eddie?”
“Could you just let me in sweetheart, please?”
Begrudgingly, you signal with your arm to let him in, the boy clambering through the window.
He breathes out as you take a seat on the edge of your bed, “I guess I should start by saying sorry.”
You nod your head, “A good starter, yeah,” you softly chuckle.
There’s a small smile that creeps on his face as he takes a seat next to you on your pink-coloured duvet, “I know this is gonna sound more shitty than I want it to, but, today’s been hard babe,” he explains. “Jason… He just… God, I wish he would just leave me alone for a second, you know? And just that frustration from him I pushed onto you, which was totally wrong.”
You shake your head, “I mean, I didn’t help matters by picking up the wrong fucking album.”
He places a soft hand on your arm, rubbing it with his thumb, “Don’t blame yourself, okay? I should’ve been thankful you even put in the effort at all. And if anything,” he leans closer, “Even thinking of getting that album is so incredibly metal.”
The both of you laugh as you lean in, your lips connecting in a soft kiss, an apology without words.
As you part, you lean your foreheads against each other, your hand still cupping the side of his cheek as his lies comfortably on your waist. “Again, I’m sorry,” he apologises, “I’ll work on those anger management skills.”
You breathe out, “And I’ll work on my listening skills, compromise?”
“Compromise.”
i hope this is close to what you were hoping for! thank you so much for the ask <3
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson blurb
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✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Ch 4: Come What May✨
Series Masterlist
A/N: Another long, soft chapter of Joel and reader being in love 🥰 Me and @mountainsandmayhem have been having so much fun with this series!
Chapter Summary: After your uncle finds out about Joel, you take matters into your own hands.
Pairing: Joel x fem! reader
Word Count: 9.7k
Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)
Chapter Tags: Brief angst, lots of fluff, lots of smut, use of vibrator, oral receiving (fem), handcuffs, flirting, Joel and reader being in love, Joel and reader go on date
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
You wake up to the sounds of cheerful birds chirping their good mornings to each other. You left the balcony door open last night, and the cool morning air of fall rustles in through the sheer pink curtains. The sun sends bursts of light across the room as shadows splay around the intricate walls.
Peeling your eyes open, you see Joel is still fast asleep beside you. The orange glow of the morning sun alighting him in a golden warmth. He’s so handsome, so beautiful as his chest rises and falls slowly in waves, his tousled curls falling delicately over his forehead.
I love you, you say in your head before placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Good mornin’, darlin’,” he murmurs softly, his voice deep and coated thick with sleep. Without opening his eyes he pulls you into his broad chest, and you melt effortlessly into his warmth.
“Morning, handsome,” you smile into the crook of his neck as his hands trail up and down your back slowly.
“So, I was thinkin’. Maybe this afternoon you could meet me at my apartment? I could show you around my place, and if you’re up for it, you could show me how to use that pottery wheel over there?” He nods to the wooden pottery wheel that sits in the corner of the room and looks back at you with a gleam in his brown eyes.
“Oh, you want to learn some pottery skills? What peaked your interest?” you ask, fluttering your sleep coated eyelashes up at him as he gently caresses your cheek.
“You did, darlin’,” he smirks, face so handsome in the glow of the morning yellow sun as his brown irises look at you affectionately.
God, you love this man so much.
He leans down and kisses you softly, his plush lips melding into yours as you wrap your fingers around his messy curls. You slot your lips open and let him taste you, relish in you as you get lost in the slow, romantic kiss. He tastes like a piece of something you want to keep forever. When he breaks the kiss, you groan and open your eyes back up to his flawless face.
He’s so pretty.
“Well, if you want to learn then we need to pick up a few things at the store. I need some more clay. So, how about I meet you at your place in say a couple hours? Then we can pick up some supplies and come back here. How does that sound, handsome?” you smirk as you trail your fingers along his patchy scruff, the hair soft and coarse under your fingertips.
“Sounds perfect, darlin’.”
He stares at you for a few more seconds, sunlight flashing through his golden eyes, then he gets up and buttons his flannel up and slips his leather boots on. You internally groan as you see him start to leave. You don’t want him to leave, you don’t ever want him to leave.
Before he walks out the door, he rushes over to you and leaves you one more long lasting kiss on your lips. A kiss that burns through your entire body. Gentle, soft, hungry.
“See ya soon, darlin’. Bye, beautiful.”
He exits your room and right as you hear the door close, you lean back into your pillow and let out a long sigh. You’re so in love. Joel Miller is the love of your life. The only one for you.
Joel walks down the dim lit hallway with a huge smile on his face as he shoves one hand deep in his pocket, the other shaking out his ruffled curls. He loves you so fucking much. He can’t wait to see you again.
Just as he slides down the winding staircase, he misses something that lurks in the shadows. Something that could end his time here at the Moulin Rouge. That something is Edward, your uncle. The one that warned him never to touch the dancers. But he did, he did.
There’s only one condition, don’t touch my dancers.
Edward’s eyes glare at Joel, a deep anger burning through the course of his body as he snarls and clenches his fists together. Edward warned Joel, but he didn’t listen. He didn’t fucking listen. Edward fumes down the hallway, all teeth and grit as he slams on your bedroom door. He’ll make Joel pay.
You hear three large pounds on your bedroom door that make you jolt out of bed and throw your fluffy pink robe on. “Petal, open this fucking door!” your uncle yells as you run to the door in a hurry and open it up.
His face is fiery red, eyes narrowing as he walks in and slams the door shut with a bang. He paces around the quaint living quarters and stomps his elegant shiny shoes on the wooden floors. He looks at your unmade mess of a bed and scowls as you hear him curse under his breath.
Oh no. Joel.
He slowly turns back to you and clicks his tongue in a deceitful manner. You wipe sweat off your forehead as you gulp, waiting for the yelling to start. Just as you clasp your hands behind your back, he starts the yelling. “Joel was in here with you last night? In your bed!”
You wince as the accusations echo off the pink walls of your room and you shake your head no. “No, he wasn’t,” you lie, hoping he’ll take the bait.
“I saw him creeping out of your room this morning!” His words are hot, scathing, pulsing through your body as you feel your heart snap in half as your eyes go wide.
He knows.
“He uhh… he…” You don’t know what to say, what you can do to make the situation better. But you don’t want him to be fired. He can’t be fired. You can’t be the reason he loses a source of income. You just can’t.
“I warned him, petal. I told him to never touch the dancers. And look what he did. He touched the most sought after Diamond!” he yells, eyes bloodshot as he lets the anger feed his rage.
You panic and try to make it better. You have to make it better. “Please, uncle! I’m the one who pursued him. Don’t blame Joel. It wasn’t his fault. It was mine. I’m the one that asked him to stay last night. It was all me,” you say desperately, eyes as wide as the sun as you clamp down on your teeth and fight back a tear that licks the back of your eye.
He looks at you scornfully and crosses his arms over his chest as he furrows his thick eyebrows together. “I don’t care if you’re the one that pursued him, Joel could’ve said no. But obviously that was too hard to do, so allow me to take matters into my own hands,” he growls as he walks toward you and tries to push past your shoulder. You step in front of him and try to push him back.
“No! You can’t fire him, I won’t let you!” you scream, tears burning your eyes as you see him drop his mouth open and stare at you with gasping eyes.
He shakes his head sadly as his slicked back blonde hair holds in place. “I’m sorry, petal. I have to do this.” He tries to brush past you again, but you step in front of the door, not allowing him to pass until he listens to you. “Move, petal,” he demands, eyes burning through your skull.
“No,” you say with narrowed eyes. “If you fire him, I will walk out of this place and never turn back. I won’t see Terrance ever again, and your precious Moulin Rouge will close down for good.”
His jaw drops and his pupils expand as he gulps down a large breath of thick air. “Petal, just think this through,” he begs.
You cut him off and continue on with your demands. “No! I’ve thought this through long enough. It’s time to take back what I want, not what you want. I’ve done enough for you in this club. I’ve danced for those disgusting men for long enough. I’m done, uncle. Finished. You won’t find me up on that stage again.”
“But, petal! Those men come for you! You’re the star of this place. Do you know what that’ll do to business if you don’t dance?” he asks with sweaty palms, sweat pooling on the edge of his forehead as it glistens brightly by the blinding sun.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you scoff. “You sold me to Terrance, so you made your bed. I don’t owe you anything anymore. I’ll continue to see him, for now. But I won’t get up on that stage ever again. You did this, uncle. You. You got your filthy money, so now I’ll get what I want. And that’s Joel.”
Your voice carries around the room, echoing back in your uncle’s ears as he stands there in a bind. His eyes worried and his stance not as tall as when he came in. He sees his mistakes now, the error of his ways. And now he’ll have to figure out how to fix the mess he put all of you in.
He sighs and nods his head slowly, eyes looking down at the polished wooden floor. “I’m sorry, petal. For everything. But I guess you’re right. I did put you in this mess and now I have to find a way to fix it.” His sad eyes trail back up to yours slowly, and for just a minute you feel a bit of sympathy for him wash over you. But then you remember he sold you to the worst of the men in this place. And for that you can’t forgive him.
“Just leave, please,” you sigh as you open the door wide, waiting for him to pass through. He gives you a sympathetic nod and drags his feet through, not looking back as you slam the door shut.
You rest against the back of the door and let out a long sigh, closing your eyes to go through the moments that just happened seconds ago. You did it. You saved Joel’s job, you told him you wouldn’t dance again. You fucking did it!
After simmering over your achievements of the day, you decide to get dressed and ready for the day. You have a date with Joel Miller, the love of your life.
Joel opens the worn wooden door of his apartment after hearing your soft knocks echo through his small space. You barely make it through the door and he’s already pulling you into arms, hugging you tightly and meeting your lips with his as you drink in his lush taste. His lips feel like velvet against yours and you can’t help but open your mouth for him, letting his tongue slide against yours slow and tenderly. You let out a desperate moan that he answers with a gentle pat on your ass before parting.
You look around his little apartment, taking in his private haven as sunlight pelts through the windows. Even though the building is old and probably about to fall apart, the inside of Joel’s small one bedroom apartment is beautiful. Wooden furniture in warm browns fills the space, a dark mahogany throw rug in the living room helps tie in the exposed brick wall along one side of the kitchen. It smells like leather and Joel and it feels like home. You love your frilly pink studio room at the Moulin Rouge, but this feels solid, a place you could settle and make memories, become a family.
You wander over to his couch, your hand smoothing along the warm light brown leather. “This is beautiful, all of your furniture is beautiful.”
He brings a hand up to rub the scruff on the back of his neck, almost like he’s embarrassed. “Thanks, I uh - I made it.”
Your eyes widen as you glance around at the couch, the large chair, the side tables and coffee table. Then your eyes dart to the kitchen where there’s a long wooden table that looks like it came from one tree sits, a bench on one side and three chairs along the other. “All of this?” you ask surprised, your lips parting in wonder. You’re not necessarily surprised, but why is he working as a maintenance man when he has all of this talent?
“Yes,” he nods as he joins you by the couch, resting his hip along the back of it as he crosses his large arms together, “all of it. Every piece of furniture in here I made. I have a small woodshop. That’s what I was doin’ to make money, but it wasn’t payin’ the bills so, well, you know.”
“Wow.” You really aren’t sure what to say, especially when his arms are crossed like that, making all the cords of muscle lining his biceps pop out. You trail your eyes down to take in his thick forearms, veins protruding slightly. You avert your eyes toward the two doors across from the couch. “What’s behind that door?” you ask teasingly.
“The bathroom,” he says flatly.
“Oh,” you giggle, “and the other one?”
His eyes turn mischievous, a little smirk pulling at his right cheek, “My bedroom, baby girl.”
“Did you make the furniture there, too?” you ask, fluttering your lashes at him.
He lets out a quiet laugh through his nose. “Are you askin’ to see my bedroom, darlin’?”
You brush past Joel towards the bedroom door, over your shoulder you say, “Well, how am I supposed to tell my friends where to buy their furniture if I don’t see the whole collection?”
Joel takes a few long strides and ends up right behind you as you reach for the solid door knob. You can feel the heat of his chest as his hand beats yours to the door. He turns the knob slowly, his breath tickling your neck as he says, “If you wanted to try out my bed, that’s all you had to say.” He has the biggest smirk on his face that looks like he wants to get in a little trouble. You just shake your head and laugh.
He opens the door and you smile at his unmade bed, white sheets all twisted into each other like he flew out of it the other morning to get to you. The bed frame is made of the same wood, vertical slats running along it, and you have no idea how someone could make such intricate but sturdy looking furniture. He has a small dresser and one bedside table. There’s a vanilla candle on the bedside table that’s never been lit, but the wax fills the room with a smoky scent. Again, you find yourself feeling that this is a home. He is home.
“You know,” you say as you wander to his bed, “the other dancers say that you can tell a lot about a man by what's in his bedside table.”
“That so?” Joel asks with a raised eyebrow, following you and sitting on the edge of the bed near the pillows as he watches you graze your hand on the wooden material.
“Mm-hmm,” you nod your head and put your hand on the knob to the drawer.
Joel parts his legs and pulls you into him by your waist as you feel his calloused fingers trail along your skin. His honey eyes stare deeply into yours, “Go ahead then, darlin’, see what kind of man I am.”
You don’t break his eye contact, slowly pulling the drawer open with your right hand, the left carding through the curls at the back of his head. When he’s sitting on the bed, he’s in line with your chest, his breath fanning across the top part of your dress. It hits your nipples lightly and you are so glad you decided to go braless today.
Once the drawer is open, he cocks an eyebrow at you. “Well?”
You turn your head to look in the drawer, and while you weren’t sure what to expect, it definitely wasn’t what’s lying in front of you. Your cheeks grow pink as you reach for the first item, handcuffs. The cool metal of the handcuffs feel powerful in your hands. You feel powerful.
“Well well, Miller. Have a lot of girls coming through here?” you smirk, eyes narrowing playfully as you take in his nervous glance.
He laughs and shakes his head, “No baby. Not for a long time.”
“You have the key for these?” you ask, popping open one of the silver cuffs. Joel nods, so you quickly clasp his left wrist with one side of the cuff and then thread the other side through the spacers in the bed frame. Joel doesn’t pull away or stop you, even though he very easily could overpower you and have you naked and strapped to his bed in a matter of seconds.
You twist out of his grasp, grabbing the second item from the nightstand and step back so you’re just inches out of his reach. “Oops,” you say as innocently as possible, fluttering your eyelashes as you send him a mischievous wink.
“Whatcha doin’, baby girl?” Joel’s eyes are starting to glaze over the same way they did when he was licking your pussy in your kitchen the other night.
You hold the small vibrator from his drawer tightly in your palm, hooking your thumbs under the straps of your dress as you slide the material down your arms. You keep your eyes locked on Joel, bottom lip slipping between your teeth as you let the dress fall to the ground with a quiet whooshing sound as it pools at your feet.
“Nothing,” you say, still using an innocent voice. Joel lets out a whispered ‘fuuuuck’ as he takes in your body in nothing but a small black thong. You spin around and hook your thumbs into the waistband of the lace as you slowly tease him.
You hear the handcuffs rub along the wooden bedframe and even though you can’t see him, you know he’s trying to reach out to you. You start to bend at the hip, pushing your ass out to Joel as you drag the thong down your legs as it lands in a heap on the floor. At this angle, you’re on full display to Joel. He can see you're already glistening for him, already so fucking wet.
“Goddamn, darlin’, you’re so fucking pretty.”
As you stand back up, you run your nails gently along the sides of your smooth legs and curvy hips, gathering your thick hair to one side. You glance over your shoulder at Joel as you let out a very seductive, “Oops.”
“Don’t tease me, baby. I’m a weak man when it comes to you.”
“Oh I’m not teasing, just consider this payback for the sink thing the other night.” You kick your dress and panties to the side before sinking to the floor. You plant your feet firmly in front of you and rest back on your elbows. “I’m going to make you watch.”
You relax your knees as they fall open, your pussy on full display for Joel to drool over. He jerks forward and groans at the tug from the handcuffs. “Goddamn, you’re so wet baby, I can see it from here,” he groans, a desperate plea for you to open the handcuffs for him. He wants to touch you so fucking badly.
You adjust your weight on one elbow and bring the small vibrator to your pussy, leaving it off as you spread your arousal slowly through your folds with the shiny toy. You let out a tiny moan, and it’s empowering having Joel tied up as he watches you tease him. His eyes rake over your body, but anytime he talks he’s staring into your eyes. Men don’t often look you in the eye, but you are more than a body to Joel. You’re everything to him. His special Diamond.
You turn the vibrator on low and your whole body jolts when it hits your clit, electric pulses coursing through your body as you hold on for dear life.
“Fuck baby, you look so gorgeous right now. You gonna make yourself come?” His voice is deeper with arousal as you can see his hard cock bulging in his pants. It looks so enticing, but you need to concentrate.
You gasp as you continue to tease yourself with the vibrator. “Y-yes,” you moan, “and then I’m going to do it again and again, until you’re begging me to come over to you.”
“Oh, so this is what we’re doin’? Seein’ who breaks first?”
You giggle and nod your head, you’re already so close, heat building in the lowest parts of your spine. “Okay, if that’s what you want,” he smirks, his voice a quiet whisper as he undoes the button of his jeans and slides them down, palming his hard cock through his boxers.
You moan his name, just on the edge of your orgasm.
“Show me, be a good girl and show me how you make yourself come,” he instructs, eyes wide with black lust taking over.
The heat in your lower spine spreads rapidly and your legs start shaking. You throw your head back. “No, look at me when you come,” Joel commands. You snap your head back and lock eyes, his brow furrowed, jaw clenched as he watches you. “That’s it, come on, darlin’, show me what my voice and my commands do to you.”
“Joel!” you yell and your orgasm hits, pulsing hot through your whole body. Your breaths come out shaky as you ride out the small vibrator in your hand unashamed. “Fuck-fuck. Oh my God, Joel.”
“That’s my good girl, so good for me.” Just as your orgasm starts to ease Joel says, “Turn it up, I want to see you come again.”
You do as he says, somehow this has turned from you teasing him to him teasing you, but you aren’t going to give in first. As much as you want his hands on you, you are going to win this.
“Feels s’good, Joel. S-so good.” You’re sure you look like a mess already as you feel a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead.
“Yeah? You gonna break? I could do that for you, baby girl. You could just lie down and enjoy it. Let me take care of you,” he smirks, dark eyes glazing over as he stares straight into your eyes. It’s almost alarming how hypnotized he looks, the look of love above lust swirling in his dark eyes. You can see it now, and it makes you feel a thousand things at once.
“N-never,” you stutter, swirling the vibrator around your sensitive clit as your legs begin to shake uncontrollably.
“That feel good, baby girl?” he asks, his lips curling up as he knows it does. He just wishes he could do something about it.
You moan and shiver in response, a second orgasm just on the edge of breaking. Something in Joel’s eyes seems lighter as he watches you, something that makes your heart pump just for him.
“Come, baby. Enjoy it, cuz you’re gonna break and then I’m gonna absolutely ruin you,” he smirks as a devilish grin takes over his beautiful face.
Your legs start to quake, you can already feel that the second orgasm is going to take over your entire body. You ease off your clit to taunt Joel. “You’ll be breaking the headboard before I give in.”
Joel’s features soften, his voice a deep baritone as he says, “I’d do more than break a headboard to be near you. The moment that spotlight hit your soft porcelain skin, my entire world collapsed in on itself. I would rearrange the stars just to be close to you. I’d swim across the furthest ocean just to see those beautiful eyes. I’d give up food and water if it meant getting to hold you in my arms. Even if it’s only for just a second. You, my perfect little Diamond, are all that matters to me.”
The air in the room has changed from playful to overwhelmingly intimate. It almost crushes in on you like a large boulder, and you never want it to stop.
You pull the vibrator from your clit, but you remain open to him, knees parted as your eyes water over. He’s not looking at your weeping pussy. No. His honey colored eyes are wholly focused on yours now. You get the inkling you’re the most important person in his world now, and it completely overwhelms you. He’s your world. Him.
“What?” It comes out in a tiny whisper, your mouth parted as your eyes softly bore into his.
He continues, “You are all that matters to me. This might sound crazy and irrational, but I knew from the moment I saw you on that stage. I knew you were the one. You are it for me, darlin’. This is it for me. Forever.”
Forever? Oh.
You swallow hard, scared to blink, breathe, or move just in case none of this is real.
Joel whispers your name, tears building along his lash line, “I love you.”
“That’s cheating…” you whisper, your words barely making a sound over the thick tension in the little room as the sunlight beams through the glass window.
“I’m not playing the game anymore, darlin’. I love you.”
The words reverberate around in your skull. He loves you, he knew the moment he saw you. You abandon the small toy on the floor as you stand up and start to pad over to him. “Say it again.”
He clears his throat and looks straight at you, eyes staring right into your soul. “Nothing in my life has made sense lately. And then I saw you. The Sparkling Diamond, my Diamond. Something in my gut pulled me towards you, darlin’. This is it for me, baby girl. I’m in love with you. I have been from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
You stare at Joel, lips parted and eyebrows knit together as a wet tear rolls down your cheek. You don’t think you’ve ever cried a happy tear over anything, nonetheless a man. But Joel… he was different. He made you so happy, the happiest you’ve ever been in your entire life.
Joel’s uncuffed hand reaches up to you, his rough palm facing the ceiling. You step forward and clasp his hand in yours as you knit your fingers together, letting his calloused fingers run along the back of your hand. His skin is so warm, inviting like a soft bed. He pulls you close, kissing your knuckles softly before placing your hand on his broad, tanned shoulder as he moves his hand to trace along your hip, then down to your thigh.
“Key?” you ask, voice cracking through the emotion in your chest.
His eyes fall to the drawer in his bedside table, and you see the small silver key at the back of the drawer. He had easy access to that key the entire time, but he didn’t take it, he wanted you to be in charge and do what felt right to you.
You wrap one hand around his wrist, using the other to unlock the cuff with a small click. The moment he’s free, his hands come to your body, pulling you between his legs as he places light kisses along your sternum. Your hands card through his tousled curls and he moans at your gentle touch before sucking your pebbled nipple into his mouth. You cry out in pleasure and then crawl up into his lap, straddling him slowly. He’s almost painfully hard, cock straining the fabric of his boxers.
“Joel,” you moan, rocking your hips along his long length. Your hand snakes between your bodies to pull him out of his boxers. When you pull him out, you see he’s massive.
Your eyes go wide as you take in his large cock. You watch a bead of pre cum glistening on the tip and you reach over to slowly spread it around with your thumb. Both of your breathing is labored, eyes glazed over in anticipation. You both want each other so badly. Both gasping for breath as you smell thick arousal encasing the air, the tension strong as you feel it in the room. It’s hot, strong, thick, and you want to taste it.
“Whatcha doin’ there, baby girl?” he says again, more passionate this time around.
You lift up slightly and press the tip into your waiting, wet heat, feeling just how big he is as you choke out a moan. You stop once the thick, rounded tip is inside of you and rest your forehead on his. “I love you too, Joel.”
He smiles sweetly at you, cupping your face in his large palms before kissing you deeply and passionately. You rock your hips, sliding him in more as you feel the stretch start to happen. You feel every inch and ridge of him until your bodies are flush together. Both of you moan into the kiss, your body shuttering against his as you take him deeper, harder.
“I got you,” he whispers between kisses, his coffee scent encapsulating you completely.
You roll into him again, the feeling of him filling and stretching you causes a new surge of wetness between your thighs, your nails digging hard down his back at the extreme pleasure. You roll again, the soft part of his abdomen putting gentle pressure on your clit.
“Oh God - Joel - aaaah.” His hands move from your face, gliding over the smooth skin of your neck and shoulders, tracing the dips and curves of your back and hips before resting on the globes of your ass. He moves with your rhythm, helping you take what you want.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispers, voice gravelly and rough, yet somehow tender and full of care. “You’re close, ain’t ya?”
You grind down on him hard, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you feed off the ecstasy of how full he’s making you. He feels so good, and your clit is still so sensitive from the vibrator. “Mmmm - yes, Joel.”
Joel helps you move faster and harder against him, trying his hardest not to come and end this because he wants you to take what you want. All you do is give to others, and he swore to himself the second he saw you that he would make this world yours. Anything you want, whenever you want it. He will always find a way - for you.
“Say it again,” you moan, hands moving back up to the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I love you,” he whispers, placing soft kisses along your jawline. His plush lips move to your neck as he says it again, “I love you.”
Your body jolts into his, your orgasm rolling through you as Joel continues kissing your skin lovingly and saying he loves you over and over and over again. You fill his bedroom with your cries of ecstasy, pussy clenching around his hard cock. “I love you, too. Oh, God - don’t stop,” you pant out as you tremble in his arms, head falling to his shoulder quickly as pleasure courses through your body. You’ve never experienced an orgasm this intense before. You’ve never experienced him until now, and it was something you could do forever.
Joel takes over, thrusting up into you faster and faster as you feel his cock bottom out inside you. “I’m - fuck - I’m gonna come, baby.”
You smile into Joel's shoulder, in a complete state of blissed out intoxication. “Please,” you moan, “come inside me.”
Joel chants your name in a quiet whisper as his thrusts turn slow and sloppy, feeling his heavy body start to give out around you. You find the strength to look up at him, locking eyes with those beautiful deep brown eyes as you whisper sweet words to him. “I love you, Joel Miller.”
You feel him twitching inside you, followed by the warmth of him filling you up. Aftershocks of your orgasm jump through your body and you squirm on him as he fills you, moaning your name as he milks your insides.
Joel wastes no time lifting you and turning so he can rest his back against the wooden headboard. The springs of his mattress creak as you both settle, he’s still deep inside of you, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. His strong hands rub up and down your naked back, relaxing you into his welcoming arms. Neither of you say anything as you catch your breath and the silence around you is screaming that you are safe here. You’re safe. Joel is safe.
“Are you okay?” you whisper when his breathing gets shallow.
“Yes, darlin’. Just relaxin’,” he says as he lets out a content hum, squeezing you tighter as his arms bring you closer into his broad chest. “I want to stay here forever, but I should probably get you cleaned up.”
You start to lift your hips off him and you swear you could come all over again just from that tingling feeling. You whimper quietly as he helps lift you. “I got ya, baby girl,” he says softly, rolling you onto the bed, “be right back.” He hikes his jeans back up and slips out of his bedroom to the bathroom.
Seconds later, he comes back with a small cloth. “Open your legs for me honey.”
His brown eyes and gentle touch are so soft as he cleans your thighs with the warm washcloth, dragging it gently over your sensitive pussy. You cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure as he repeats, “I got ya, baby,” before pulling you into his arms.
You press your face into his chest, soaking him all in and trying to memorize this euphoric feeling. You’ll have to be with Terrance soon, and if you can find a way to put yourself in this moment again then it won’t be so bad. You’ll just think of Joel.
You breathe him in, bathing in his mahogany and sawdust smell. “I love you, Joel.”
He smiles into your soft hair, kissing the top of your head and whispering, “I know, my Diamond. I love you, too. Rest here in my arms for a little bit, then we’ll go get that clay and some wine and go make pottery together.”
Your eyelids get heavy and you drift off into a peaceful and dreamless sleep in his arms, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world. There’s gotta be billions of people on this earth but somehow you get to exist in it and experience it with Joel Miller. You think that’s pretty special.
You both doze off longer than originally planned as you lay sprawled on top of him in his warm bed. The afternoon glowing sun fills his bedroom as the two of you stir awake. You rub your eyes sleepily, stretching your long naked body against his. Joel had been awake moments before you, looking down at how peaceful and beautiful you looked. That’s another thing for him to add to the list of things he wants to prove for you, peace. You don’t deserve to be shined up and sent out for those men. You should be able to put on his sweat pants and sit on the couch with your hair piled on top of your head. You’d still be the most beautiful woman alive to him like that. He’s so over the moon in love with you.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“Never be sorry, love. You needed rest,” he says as he lays on his back, one arm bent to rest his head on his large hand, the other arm closed tightly around you. “I think we’re gonna have to divide and conquer though.”
You crane your neck up at him, eyebrows knit in confusion. He slides his hand out from behind his head and uses the pad of his thumb to gently rub the crease between your eyebrows. “You go get the clay, I’ll get the wine and dinner. We can meet at your place.”
You laugh to yourself. Oh right, you had other plans together that didn’t involve handcuffs and a vibrator, followed by a really long nap. You nod up at him, excited to teach him how to make pottery, you’ve already decided that you’re going to make matching coffee mugs. That way on mornings when you can’t be together, you still will be together. You plan to paint ‘Come What May’ on the inside of both of them once he’s gone to surprise him. You know he’ll love it.
He helps you get dressed, giving you a peck on the cheek and a pat on the ass as you giggle and head out his door to the small craft store in town. Joel grabs some spare clothes, having a feeling that pottery is messy, and then rushes off to gather his side of the bargain. The town rushes around him but he’s almost in a haze, still somehow surrounded by his Sparkling Diamond.
After he gathers the food and wine, he sneaks into the back door of the Moulin Rouge and heads to your door, knocking gently on the wooden door. You open the door and smile up at Joel, pulling him inside and kissing him deeply as you free his hands from the bags.
When you pull apart, he takes in your clothes as he looks you up and down carefully. You’re wearing a cotton t-shirt style bra and a pair of jean overalls, one strap undone as it hangs down the back casually. The overalls are covered in splatters of dried pottery clay and colorful paint. Your hair is piled on top of your head, a few loose curls falling around your face and the nape of your neck. Quite simply put, you could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still take his breath away.
“Ready to get messy?” you ask with a teasing giggle.
“With you?” he teases as he places the groceries in your kitchenette, “always!”
You grab his hand and lead him to the pottery wheel. “Okay, so I guess I’ll show you mine and then you can make yours?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, biceps flexing as he watches you sit in front of the wheel. You have everything set up already, clay split in half, the water and sponges set aside. He nods and says, “Sure baby, what’re we makin’?”
“Coffee cups,” you smile, “this way we can be together every morning.”
A warm smile crosses his face, tanned skin around his eyes crinkling, “Ain’t you just so damn sweet, darlin’.”
You blush and then take a deep breath, starting the wheel and explaining to Joel what to do. He’s completely enamoured by you. The way you light up when you’re talking about something you're passionate about sets his heart on fire. Your bright eyes make his lips curl up into a warm smile as he takes in the sight of you doing something you genuinely love. He’d like to see more of that. More of that free spirit that pulls him to you.
Soon, your coffee cup is formed and when you smile at your cup he feels an intense sense of pride. Now it’s his turn but before you can get up he sits behind you, pressing his strong body against your back. He’s so warm and comforting when he’s this close. You absolutely love it.
His scruffy cheek lines up with yours, his warm breath tickling your skin as he reaches around you for his lump of clay and places it in the middle of the wheel. “Okay, baby doll. Walk me through this again.”
You blush and relax into him, explaining the steps carefully as you give him a step by step. He starts off well, shaping and molding the clay, but he’s too rough with it and the mug caves in on itself. “Son of a bitch,” he huffs as you giggle.
“You’re being too rough, be gentle.” You take over, reshaping the clay into a ball for him. As you move your hands back to your lap, his large hands cover yours.
“Show me,” he whispers, goosebumps traveling down your spine as you feel his hot breath breathe down your neck.
You swap to control his large hands with your small dainty ones. He starts to shape the mug, just like last time. “Good job, handsome. You’re almost done.”
When it comes time to create the hole again, it crumbles under his strong grip. “God dammit,” Joel huffs, he’s too distracted by you and your long exposed neck just right where he can reach it. So tempted to just kiss you and cover your body with the wet clay that’s caked on his hands.
You giggle again but try your hardest to encourage him. “You almost had it that time, baby. Come on, one more try.”
“You’re distractin’ me,” he says, kissing that soft spot right below your ear. You moan, lips parting and eyes closing at the feel of his warm lips.
You turn your head to look at him, placing a light and lingering kiss to his lips before saying, “Just one more time, please.”
The sun is starting to set, casting a pink glow across your room as the early night air rustles the curtains lightly. “Anything for you, my love.” Joel hums, kissing you back until you pull away and get his clay ready.
He takes a big breath and tries again, this time being extra gentle when forming the hole in the cup. You encourage him quietly the whole time, reminding him to be gentle and cradle it carefully. He knows you don’t mean for it to be teasing or sexual, but hearing you whisper things like, ‘just like that’, or ‘softer baby’, have his cock starting to strain against your back. He knows you can feel it, can sense the change in your breathing as he finishes his mug. It’s not as pretty as yours, but he sure as fuck is going to be drinking his morning coffee out of it everyday for the rest of his life.
You use your wire to get the cup off the wheel and put it beside yours. You both look at them side by side for a little bit, admiring the extra care you took to make them. Yours is showroom quality, people would pay to have that perfectly shaped mug, unlike Joel’s. But you love them, they’re un-perfectly perfect, just like the both of you.
Joel's chin rests on your shoulder as his lips hang just over your smooth jawline. “I love them,” you say with a small smile, admiring the dips and smooth edges of the cups.
He drags one clay covered finger in a heart shape along your arm and with his voice in a gravelly whisper says, “I love you.”
His lips trail from your ear to your shoulder blade before he licks a line across the nape of your neck, making a new trail of kisses to your ear on the other side. You feel your body start to go limp, ready for him to take control and do whatever he pleases. “As sexy as you look in these overalls, baby, stand up and take them off.”
You do as he says, standing up in front of him, back still towards him as you undo the one clip holding your jean overalls up. The metal clasp makes a scraping sound against the metal button before your overalls fall to the floor, pooling in a heap around your feet.
Joel lets out a deep moan at the sight of you in just a grey cotton thong and grey t-shirt bra. “Stay,” he says softly, clay covered hands coming to cover your body as he traces a line down your spine. You can’t see what he’s doing, but his fingers brush against the globes of your ass, then the backs of your thighs, then in random spots on your back. The cool clay left behind, hardening on your skin as he continues marking you with the clay.
“Spin around baby,” he finally says. He looks up at you from the stool, kissing just to the right of your navel, coating his fingers in more wet clay from the wheel. His hands come back to your body, drawing tiny little hearts all over your soft skin. He draws one around your belly button, then the front of one of your thighs, the top of your knee, one right above your actual heart, a few more up and down your arms. His face is soft as he focuses on each heart, each little bit of your body. He’s so taken aback by you, so madly head over heels in love with you that he knows he won’t survive seeing you with Terrance again. So he’s going to mark you, claim your body with clay so he knows you don’t belong to Terrance. Yes, it will wash off, but he was here first and he’s going to be here last. This is his. You are his.
His hands come to grip your hips as he stands, towering over you so you have to crane your neck to see him. His lips come down to yours slowly and softly. You tilt slightly to give him access, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip and moan quietly into his mouth. He returns your passion, kissing you deeply before lifting you up into his arms and walking you over to the side of your bed. He stops for a second, unsure if you want to get your sheets dirty, so he changes course and lowers you to the ground instead while your legs wrap around his waist. He breaks the kiss, moving himself to kiss every square inch of your skin that doesn’t have a clay heart on it. Claiming you again as your wiggle and jolt under his touch.
You moan his name when he hits the sensitive spots, like the tops of your breast or the dips in your hips. You keep your eyes locked on him the entire time, watching the passion in his eyes as he kisses your body nice and slow.
Fuck you love him. You love him so fucking much that it’s almost unbearable to think about him not being near you. How will you fake it with Terrance now?
His gentle kisses move to your legs as he works his way up your body, alternating between limbs before finally getting to your inner thighs. Each kiss is a delicious torture. “Please Joel, please,” you’re practically panting, almost begging for him to touch you.
He sits up and removes his pants and boxers, his cock looking almost painfully hard and you gasp at the sight of him, “I know, baby. I know”
He’s so turned on that it takes a moment for you to realize that it’s just from kissing you. Your body, your little moans, and your whimpers are the most erotic thing to him. “I love the sound of you begging, I’m right here. I got you,” he reassures you.
He situates himself between your legs, kissing the growing wet spot of your clothed center. Your body twitches at the warmth of his lips and you cry out again, desperately needing him so badly that it almost hurts.
“Alright, alright,” he hushes you, “do you need to come darlin’?”
You nod down at him, raising your hips towards his face, “P-please,” you whimper.
He pushes your panties to the side and licks his lips at the sight of your pussy weeping for him. You push your hips up again, desperate for friction from his warm tongue. Joel smiles up at you, “Always so eager for me, ain’t ya? Such a good girl.” And then he dives in, licking at your clit with quick, light flicks of his tongue. You feel yourself go boneless, melting into the soft rug below you, crying Joel’s name out and begging him not to stop.
His tongue slows, almost licking you lazily. The hurried passion evolves into a controlled worship. Your heart rate slows, breathing coming back to normal as you look down at him. His warm eyes pull you in, giving you comfort and security as they seem to melt into yours. This big strong man lapping at your pussy feels like home. He is home.
“Please, don’t stop,” you whisper, the love for him coating your ragged words.
“Never,” he says between licks, “I’ll do this forever if you let me.”
When Joel Miller makes a promise, he keeps it. He’s a man of his word.
Your head falls back to the floor as he continues to lick, kiss and suck you deep into his warm mouth. Your center on fire for him as he awakens your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your hands run along your body, playing with your breasts, pinching your nipples gently, fully immersing yourself in Joel. He doesn’t rush or try to force your pleasure, he just lets you enjoy it. He knows you’ll come when you’re ready, and fuck does he hope you’re never ready.
“Enjoyin’ yourself, my Diamond?”
“Y-yes,” you pant out. Your legs start to shake, the familiar tingle building in your core. He keeps teasing and tasting you over and over again until you’re right on the edge. “Oh God - yes - Joel.”
He smiles into your sensitive skin as he continues pleasuring you. “That’s my good girl,” he praises as he laps at the slick between your legs.
You’ve lost track of time, there’s a chance Joel has been at it for hours, but he moans and encourages you so you let yourself enjoy him. The tingling sensation grows stronger, spreading out to your whole body before it snaps and you're wrapped in pleasure. It waves through your whole body, you moan and cry out, Joel talking you through the whole thing as you start to break.
“I know, I know. That’s it baby, just relax.” His tongue swirls you gently as you come, careful not to push you into overstimulation. He’s so hard that it’s almost painful. “Good girl. Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.”
It starts to feel too intense and you’re suddenly desperate to feel him inside you. Your hands come to his hair, tugging him away lightly, your eyes matching his. “I need you, please. Fill me,” you whine.
You strip off your clothing slowly, taking every single piece off as you keep your eyes on him. You watch as his large body covers yours and lowers you gently to the ground as he crowds your space. He’s so beautiful in the purple sunset lighting of your room. His face and beard are shiny with your arousal but you don’t care, you press your lips to his, a deep and passionate kiss burning while he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, collecting your slick thoroughly.
“Please please please,” you whisper as his kisses move to your neck.
Finally he slides the tip in, you both gasp and then your lips meet again. Kissing one another with hunger as he slowly pushes himself the rest of the way in. Once he’s flush against you he pulls away from the kiss, both your lips puffy and swollen. His arms are resting on each side of your head, hands pushing your hair back as he smiles down at you, fully settled inside of your warm, tight heat.
“I love you, Joel Miller.” Your voice is practically dripping with admiration, each word seems to tattoo itself onto his heart.
He slowly pulls himself out to the tip as he slides back in as he groans you name, bringing his forehead to yours. “I love you, too, baby girl,” he smiles while he ruts deeper inside you.
For the next few thrusts you’re both silent - just panting breaths and little moans, foreheads together and eyes locked onto each other. He moves in and out of you as you circle your hips into his, the soft bit of his belly rubbing against your already sensitive clit.
“Oh God, baby,” you moan. You can feel tears building behind your eyes, pleasure starting to wrap around you again. “I’m - I’m gonna…”
“I know, fuck, I can feel ya. Gettin’ so tight around me, darlin’.” He doesn’t stop the slow push and pull of his hips. “Go on, baby. Come for me.”
Your whole body breaks out in shivers as you come all over him, your slick coating his cock as he works it deep inside you. He presses his body down onto yours more, helping ground you as your body writhes under his. You feel the hot tears escape your eyes as you moan his name loudly.
“There’s my girl, lettin’ go for me. I’m so proud of you.” His thrusts speed up a little as he chases his own release. As you start to come back to earth you feel him growing harder inside of you, his cock twitching as the aftershocks of your orgasm have your walls shuddering.
“Fill me, please,” you grind into him harder. “Want to feel you come inside of me again.”
Joel's hips snap into you one last time before his strong body quakes above you. He doesn’t hold back, moaning and whining out your name as he shoots ropes of warm come deep inside you - marking and claiming you all over again.
“Oh, fuck, darlin’. Feels so good,” he moans as he comes down from his own high and slowly slips out of you, dragging his seed down your thigh as he drops to the floor and pulls you into his chest tightly.
“That was incredible,” you pant as you let your hand drag down his soft stomach, collecting sweat on your fingertips as you look up into warm, loving eyes.
“You’re incredible, my little Diamond,” he smiles as he cups your chin and brings his plush lips down to yours. The kiss is slow, passionate, like you’re the only two people in the world right now. It’s so euphoric with him, everything so full of bright colors that you just can’t get enough of him. He’s the love of your life.
When he pulls away he taps you on the tip of your nose with his index finger and pulls you up off the ground. “C’mon, love. Let’s get you in the shower.”
He whisks you away into the lit up bathroom as he turns the faucet to hot, and the water comes pouring down. He lifts you up into the edge of the shower and steps over, grabbing a soft washcloth as he lathers it in lavender soap.
“Turn around, love. Gonna clean ya off,” he murmurs as you smile and turn toward the water, letting the warmth pour over you as sticky clay starts falling down the drain.
His large hands move languidly over your body, gently scrubbing off the clay as he starts at your collarbone and moves down the length of your arms. His lips graze your neck as he takes his time coating you in the sweet aroma of lavender, the smell of him is everywhere. Hanging in the steam filled air, lingering on your skin, filling your insides as you breathe him in nice and deep. He smells like coffee and a hint of mahogany as his experienced fingers cover your body.
You slowly turn and press your lips to his, sinking your body against his broad chest as he pulls you in and drowns you in all of him. You get lost in his everything as you let your fingers slot through his tousled curls, opening your mouth to invite him in. His tongue tastes like candy, and you devour the taste. Sweet, savory, euphoric.
You don’t know how long you’re in the shower as his hands thoroughly explore your body. You take your time washing him, too. Sliding your hands over every single crevice of his body, trailing kisses over his shoulders, down his spine, all the way to his long fingers. You’re in so deep with him, and this feels like heaven being with him. Every second you’re with him it’s a piece of heaven, he’s your heaven, your saving grace.
After the shower, he wraps you in a soft towel and dries you off and then slides his large grey t-shirt over your head. It smells like him and you want to keep it forever. He leads you to the bed and pulls you against his glowing chest as he wraps an arm around you and gently skims his fingers through your hair. Warm, he’s so warm.
“I had the best day with you, sweet girl,” he whispers as he places a kiss sweetly on your forehead. You nuzzle your face deeper into his neck and wrap your arms tightly around him.
“I did, too. Every day is like a dream with you. Promise it won’t change. Promise me this is forever,” you say quietly as you run your fingers slowly over his chest, praying this isn’t all just a dream.
He sighs and nods his head. “I promise. You’re my forever, darlin’. Never gonna let ya go. You’re mine. My special, rare Diamond.”
He wraps you tighter around him as you feel your eyes start to close, relishing in his scent, his body, his everything. “Joel?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you…” you breathe, sinking all your weight into his body as you kiss his scruffy jawline.
“Oh, baby. I love you more, my little Diamond. My forever…”
You smile and let your mind drift off to sleep as the room grows quiet and dark. You dream of brown eyes, your future, your forever. You dream of Joel.
The last thing you hear is Joel’s voice slipping through the darkness. “Goodnight, my precious Diamond.”
Tags: @casa-boiardi @keylimebeag @skysmiller @vvitchesh3x @littlevenicebitch69 @jessthebaker @strawberri-blonde @pansexual-potatoes
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x female reader#joel the last of us#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#joel miller pedro pascal#no outbreak!joel miller#joel miller tlou#soft!joel miller#moulin rouge au#joel miller series#joel x f!reader
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"I'm not giving up on you!"
Leonard McCoy X Reader
Summary: Following a terrible attack on the Enterprise, Dr. McCoy does everything he can to save the heavily-injured reader.
Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Warning(s): Wounds, Death, Implied violence, Ends in fluff
Dr. McCoy carefully navigated the sea of bodies, careful not to step on any one of them. The Enterprise had been boarded little more than thirty minutes ago. Bones followed the path of destruction, hoping to find some survivors. No such luck.
McCoy scanned every body for signs of life, but yielded no results. He grimaced and trudged onward. He hated this feeling of powerlessness. So many good people were dead and there was nothing he could do about it. If only he had gotten down here sooner, maybe there wouldn't be so many casualties.
Leonard rounded a corner and was disappointed to find even more bodies strewn all over the floor. But amidst the flashing red lights, he saw you. You were leaned against the wall, blood staining your blue uniform. His tricorder picked up your heartbeat and he immediately hurried to your side.
"Hey, can you hear me?" He asked, snapping his fingers near your ear. Much to his surprise, you slowly opened your eyes.
He couldn't believe you were alive, let alone conscious. Your arm was a mangled mess of burns, you had a massive laceration in your lower abdomen, you were sitting in a pool of your own blood, and you had a terrible concussion. Your groan came out as more of a choked gurgle.
Leonard wasted no time in prepping a hypo to ease your pain. "Can you speak?"
"Yeah," You managed weakly.
"That's good. That's really good. Can you tell me where it hurts?" He asked.
"It hurts everywhere," you murmured.
"Perfect."
"Perfect?" You asked.
"It means you still have feeling in your limbs. That's a really good sign," Bones jabbed the hypo into your arm and started digging into his bag. He had to get you stable if you were going to have any hope of surviving this. "I'm Dr. Leonard McCoy. Can you tell me your name darlin'?" He asked, trying to ease you into a sense of calm.
"Ensign Y/N Y/L/N. Biology department."
"On, I know about you, you're the one who wrote that dissertation on the possible medical uses of Aldebaran Serpent venom. You graduated top of your class in the starfleet academy. I heard you've got a promotion coming up." Leonard said, hoping to keep your mind alert. He didn't want you passing out with that concussion, not until he was sure there wasn't some internal bleeding going on that his scanners weren't picking up.
"Yeah, if I make it that far..."
"You're gonna make it, trust me." He swallowed. You could see it in his face. The chances of you living weren't very high.
"You're a terrible liar doctor McCoy...I'm gonna die here, aren't I?" You whispered.
"I brought the captain back from the dead using the blood of a homicidal maniac. I've performed greater miracles than this. You ain't gonna die, not if I have anything to say about it." He said, already working to disinfect the gaping wound in your stomach. "Just keep talking to me, can you do that?"
"I'll try..." You struggled to keep your eyes open. "I-I... I smell something burning..."
"Don't worry about that." Leonard said firmly. "Just...tell me about..." He grasped for a topic that wasn't your maimed body or the smell of burning hair. "Tell me about home. What's your family like?" Leonard started to autosuture the laceration.
You ignored his question and tilted your head down to look down at the damage. Bones grabbed your face and forced your eyes up to his. "Don't look at it. Just look at me, okay?"
"Mkay...nice face at least." You smiled weakly.
"Oh?" he got back to his work, but kept talking. "I've always been told I got a face only a mother could love. What's so nice about it?" He asked.
"You have pretty eyes... and..." You lost your train of thought.
"And what darlin'?"
"Huh?"
"I got pretty eyes and what?" he asked, fighting against the knot appearing in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know you, but he'd like to. You were a tough cookie and he respected the hell out of it. He could see it in your eyes. You still had so much to offer the world... the universe. He couldn't let you die like this. He wouldn't let you die like this.
"Oh...I like your...your forehead wrinkles...makes you look distinguished," you attempted another smile.
"Gotta say sweetheart, that might just be the nicest compliment I've ever received." Leonard met your gaze for just a moment before returning to his task.
"Well, I've got more where that came from..." You leaned your head against the wall and looked at the ceiling. "...Might throw up..."
"If you feel like you are, just tell me. Okay darlin'?"
"Mkay..."
You both fell into silence and Leonard labored to think of some way to get you talking again. The autosuture wasn't working fast enough for his liking. He still had about two and a half inches to go. If he didn't work fast enough, you were gonna die.
"...Everything's all fuzzy. Cold." You murmured. A low rumble echoed through the halls as if punctuating your dark statement.
"I bet. You lost a lot of blood, but you'll be okay." Leonard clenched his jaw.
"There are others...gotta help the others McCoy. I'm a lost cause."
"You are no such thing. I'm saving you dammit." He didn't have the heart to tell you the other people in the hallway were already dead. A sudden, sharp jolt shook the ship. Leonard grunted as he tried not to fall into you.
"I'm gonna die... I never even got to ask out that doctor. Never had the guts..." You mumbled, eyes struggling to focus on anything.
"What doctor?" Leonard asked as he continued closing you up.
"Y'know. The grumpy one." You said.
Leonard's expression darkened. He was trying dammit, but not nearly hard enough. You were growing delirious. You didn't even realize what you were admitting to him. Your eyes fluttered closed, but you kept talking.
"I don't really know him, but he saved a friend of mine once... He's uh..." You gathered your thoughts. "He's real smart. So dedicated to his patients. I really admire that... Also got this dry sense of humor, and a really handsome voice. I wouldn't have minded taking him out sometime. Buying him flowers." You hummed.
"He's the kind of guy you bring home to mama, I think...Well...My mama at least." You looked at Leonard, eyes swimming with grief. "I'm not scared. You have to tell her for me. That I wasn't scared...I have people back at home. Can you tell them I love them?" You whispered, just as Leonard finished closing your abdominal wound.
Leonard breathed a sigh of relief as he started wrapping you with a bandage. "You're gonna tell them yourself darlin'. You're gonna make it, you know why? Because you're strong. Resilient as a rubber band." He tied off the bandage and started going to work on your arm. "I'm gonna get you stable and we'll get down to the medbay, then you'll make a swift and miraculous recovery, just in time for you to earn the rank of Lieutenant. How does that sound?"
"..." You didn't respond.
"Y/N?" He asked. Your eyes were closed. Your heartbeat was growing fainter by the second. "No No. Dammit, come on! I'm not giving up on you!" He emptied hypos into your arms and legs. A cocktail of medicines were brewing inside of you, fighting to keep your heart beating. He waited with baited breath for your readings to change on his tricorder.
Eventually, your heartbeat grew stronger and your breathing deeper. Then, to his astonishment, you opened your eyes again.
"Welcome back, you gave me a start there." Leonard flashed a relieved smile.
"Sorry...didn't mean to fall asleep," You smiled back.
Suddenly, the red lights turned off and the hallway lit up in its usual bright white light.
"I know darlin'. You're awake now, that's what matters." He pulled out his communicator. "Nurse Chapel, do they have the bastards detained?... Good. I need a stretcher on deck 15, as well as a recovery team. Prep the protoplaser and the burn chamber for the arrival of ensign Y/L/N." After her confirmation, he hung up and pointed his scanner down the hallway to see if there were any more heartbeats. Nothing.
Bones sighed and hung his head. The bastards were thorough, he had to give them that. He found only one survivor out of how many hallways? He was curious about how the security team managed to take them down, but that would be a conversation for a different time.
"Goddamned bloodthirsty space beasts..." He hissed.
"Tell me about it," you chuckled. "Certainly did a number on me, huh?"
"How are you feeling?" Leonard leaned against the wall beside you.
"Numb all over... I suspect you had something to do with that?" You turned your head to look at him.
"I injected you with a hypo for pain relief right when I found you." He met your eyes.
"Funny. I don't think I remember that."
"You're definitely on the loopy side. Can't tell if it's from the blood loss or an adverse reaction to the medicine, but we'll figure all that out soon."
"You can go now. Someone's coming to get me right?"
"You ain't getting rid of me that easily. I'm staying with you until your stretcher arrives." He crossed his arms.
"But there's got to be others that need help too, right?" You closed your eyes. "I'm fine, you should help them."
"It's against protocol to leave a critical patient alone. I'm not leaving until your ride arrives." Just then, he heard the sound of the hover-stretcher. "Speak of the devil, it's about goddamned time." He stood and addressed the two nurses. He spoke to them in hushed medical lingo. You had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn't sound good.
Leonard helped load you onto the stretcher. "I'm passing you off to Nurse Bell and Nurse Valinsky. They're going to take great care of you."
"As opposed to you taking bad care of me?" You smiled tiredly.
"Very funny," He smirked. "I'll catch up with you soon. Don't miss my face too much, you hear?"
"You're asking for the impossible, Dr. McCoy," You joked. The nurses guided you down the hall and around the corner. Leonard stared out at the crowded hallway, hoping his recovery team would arrive soon. Until then, he would just have to look for living patients on his own.
A doctor's work is never done.
~~~
When you awoke, you felt heavy. It was dim in the medbay and all was quiet, save for the occasional beeping of the biobed. You attempted to sit up, but winced the moment you put pressure on your arm. From the shoulder down, your limb was covered in bandages. You felt a deep ache all the way through your body and decided it was best to lay back down.
You tried to remember how you ended up here, but everything after the initial attack was a blur. You remembered the grumpy doctor, you remembered him mentioning your dissertation, he said something about pretty eyes, and you remember being so tired, but trying so hard to focus on him.
You looked around the room, hoping there might be a nurse nearby. Instead you found a room full of people sleeping in biobeds. There was a light on in the office at the end of the room, but you had no way of knowing if there was actually someone inside.
You scanned the controls to your left until you found a call button. Once you pressed it, you heard shuffling in the office. Much to your surprise, Dr. McCoy came shambling out.
"It's about time you woke up," Leonard took a look on your screen to check all your vitals. As you watched him, the events of your last encounter came flooding back. Distinguished forehead wrinkles? Seriously?
"Your heart-rate is kicking up," Bones smirked "Is that because of me?" He joked.
You rolled your eyes, "how long was I out?"
"About forty-eight hours."
"Two days?!"
"Better keep it down darlin'. Don't want to wake the neighbors." He slowly raised the bed into a sitting position and handed you some water.
"Thanks," you said hoarsely, "I didn't even realize I was thirsty."
"That's what I'm here for." He grunted as he copied some data from your biobed to his PADD.
"Bringing me water?"
"Keeping you from dying of dehydration," Bones corrected.
"Aw, and here I thought I had my own personal butler," you smiled and sipped your water. 'He really does have pretty eyes,' you thought while watching him work. Who were you kidding? It wasn't just his eyes that were pretty, it was all of him. You cleared your throat and took another sip. "Anyway, what are you doing here so late? I didn't think you worked gamma shift."
"I normally don't, but there are a lot of reports to file and not a lot of time to do it."
"That bad huh?...How many dead?" You asked softly.
"Fifty-six," Leonard sniffed pulled out his kit.
"Damn... and what about the pirates?"
"In custody back at Yorktown." Leonard administered a hypo into your arm. The soreness melted away almost immediately, but the ache in your chest didn't.
"I would have been one of them if it weren't for you..." You whispered. "You didn't give up... even when you should have."
"Any doctor worth his salt wouldn't give up on the likes of you, not when you were so keen on living. Ain't seen nothing like it in a long time. Your body just kept going long after it should have shut down." Bones explained, "And you kept telling me it was hopeless, but I could tell you were hoping for a miracle."
"So you gave me one," You smiled up at him.
"I told you I would. They don't say I have legendary hands for nothin'," McCoy smirked.
"Still, thank you for not giving up on me," you laughed. "I definitely owe you one."
"Ask out that doctor of yours and we'll call it even," Leonard spoke so casually, you nearly didn't register what it was he just said.
"I-I- my what?" You asked, dumbfounded. Your heart-rate picked up again and Leonard couldn't mask his amusement.
"You should get some rest, Nurse Chapel will be by in a few hours with some food for you. We're putting you on a soft food diet until your internal wounds heal some more. If you need anything before then, you know where the call button is." Bones started back to his office, but stopped just short.
"Oh, and Y/N?"
"Y-Yeah?"
Leonard sent you a smug look. "I like daisies," He said before disappearing behind the door.
You laughed and rested your head on your pillow. 'Daisies huh?' You thought to yourself. You weren't sure how you were gonna pull that off this far from Earth, but if Dr. McCoy could perform miracles, why couldn't you? Of course, the flowers would have to wait until you were released from medical care. You didn't mind too much though, Dr. McCoy was going to be there to take care of you.
And he wasn't giving up on you anytime soon.
....................
Taglist: @shadowbriar
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Thank you for reading!
#bones#bones x reader#leonard mccoy#leonard mccoy x reader#star trek#star trek fanfiction#star trek x reader#x reader#bones mccoy#mccoy/reader#leonard mccoy star trek#leonard mccoy x injured reader#reader fanfiction#reader insert
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Headcanon time!!
This is gonna be a lot of words
Honey is Filipino and they start speaking in tagalog/other dialect randomly, either by accident or they jst wnna be annoying and guy would pout and whine because he can't understand them
Serenading between the two, honey just singing romantic songs to guy (fallen, pasylio, mabagal, buwan, hawak kamay, ligaya to name a few)
Honey is a medical technologist
Guy roped honey into dnd and now honey is hyper fixated on it and will have a full on discussion about their dnd characters with guy
Asher and Honey are cousins
Guy took a pic of Ash when he was in wolf form and showed it to honey for proof that the dog was huge, and honey just internally went, "I knew that the 'dog' would be a shifter but I didn't think that it would be my cousin"
Darlin and Honey are gym buddies, they exchange tips
Darlin once brought honey to a pack meeting ever since they found out honey is empowered and Asher was pretty much shocked honey was there
Asher texts and talks to Honey in Tagalog and when the other pact members hear him they always get reminded that Ash is poc and not a caucasian man (courtesy that he's light-skinned and is an aircon kid (also thanks to that one tiktoker))
Milo first thought that Ash was Hispanic when he first heard him speak tagalog
Baabe likes it when Ash speaks in tagalog (:I like your accent✨️✨️)
Ash has kanal humor and the jokes never land, he'd most likely have a mixture of aircon and kanal humor
Honey does not care for the empowered society, and tries to avoid it as much as they can despite half of their bloodline being empowered (they kinda hate the empowered society because of family problems)
Sam and darlin are so comfortable with one another that they're the only ones to touch scars/parts of their bodies that make them feel vulnerable
Sam peppers kisses on tanks scars
Sam once met Honey and was like "You never told me you had a siblin" since they were almost similar
Darlin teases Sam so much about his title and even kept bringing it up to annoy the shit out of him
Just Sam being so different from quinn that darlin sometimes would not know how to react to Sam's advances and would just be still and confused
A part of darlin misses Quinn to the point that they want to go back to their copings just to get rid of that part of theirs, to just forget
Angel and guy aren't related but consider each other as siblings from another mother
David has heard of guy so much and has seen him before that he really thinks they're siblings and Angels just fucking with him when they say they arent
David loves Angels morning voice so much
When David and angel cuddle, Davids whole body wraps around Angel like a blanket (blanket burrito but the blanket is David)
Angel would sometimes workout with David and David doesn't know if he can keep going, he's weak when he sees Angel workout
Angel sings in a high-pitched tone every morning that it's pretty David's alarm (he throws a pillow at angel)
Angel went to a Catholic school before and was part of the choir
Just wanted to put this out
#redacted asmr#redacted audio#redacted guy#redacted honey#redacted sam#redacted darlin#redacted asher#redacted babe#redacted david#redacted angel#redacted headcanons
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Who wants a Covid special of my internal dialogues with the boys? I've missed writing them so I needed to give them a little love this morning. I'm also attempting to get that part of my brain working again to prove I haven't entirely lost my writing ability this week because that would be tragic. As always, it's below the cut.
Matt: Put orange juice on the list.
Mikey, raising a brow questioningly at Matt: She has almost two bottles in the fridge already...d'ya really think she needs a third?
Matt: Yes. Put it on the list. And more Tylenol.
Frank, leaning on the kitchen counter: Think she's been cravin' spaghetti so I'm gonna make some.
Matt: Pretty sure her family is dropping off a Thanksgiving meal tonight. She doesn't need you to cook, Frank.
Frank: Fine, then I'll make it for her tomorrow night, altar boy. Point still stands, I'm making her some damn spaghetti soon. With garlic bread, too, because that's the only way her son will eat it.
Mikey: That’s a good idea actually, she hasn't been wantin' to eat lately. Maybe we should make her more things she's been cravin' to get some food in her.
Frank: And maybe we should put somethin' in her diffuser to make her finally go to sleep.
Bella, on the couch: I can hear you three from over here, you know.
Frank, calling across the room: Good, go to sleep. Stop thinkin' about that damn Christmas story you have half written for Red here.
Mikey: He's right, ya need your rest, pet. Ya were awake in bed last night for two hours just thinkin' 'bout that story.
Bella, sheepishly: ...I blame Covid. But I was also thinking about your Christmas fic, too, Mikey.
Mikey: Ya need to rest, love. Worry 'bout the stories later.
Bella, pouting: But I miss you all.
Matt, making his way to the couch and sitting down: We haven't gone anywhere, sweetheart. We're all still here, just waiting for you to get better.
Bella, muttering: Fine, but I still miss you all.
Matt: Is there anything else you want at the store? Mangoes?
Frank: I doubt you're gonna find some good mangoes this far north at this time of the year, Red.
Matt, glaring over his shoulder at Frank: Watch. Me.
Mikey, annoyed: Alrigh', enough bickerin' the both o' ya. Is there anythin' else ya want from the store, pet?
Bella, sitting up: Yes.
Matt, leaning closer: What do you want, sweetheart?
Bella, grabbing Matt by the collar and pulling him closer: For the love of God, please bring me back some vanilla moose track ice cream. I beg of you. I can't stop thinking about it.
Matt: That--that might be a bit cold for your sore throat right now.
Bella: It's incentive for me to get better, Matty.
Frank, calling across the room: It's on the list, darlin'. Don't you worry. Now you cuddle with your cat and get some rest, we'll take care of the groceries.
Matt: I'll send Mittens over to cuddle, too. He misses you.
Bella, wide-eyed: You're going to let me cuddle with Mittens?
Matt, grinning: Whatever gets you to go to sleep. Go rest already, he's on his way over. Then when we get back you can drink more orange juice.
Mikey, muttering: Always with the damn orange juice.
Matt, annoyed: Because it helps!
#bella hears fictional characters#the boys plan a grocery run#because i missed them#matt murdock#frank castle#michael kinsella#all my boys
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