#Nah he’ll be fine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emmyrosee · 1 year

Text

“How come you get to ride in the cart?” He says, a pout in his voice but a smirk curling at his lips. Your hip cocks up as your arms cross over your chest, more than willing to duke this out with him in the entrance of the store.

“Uh, because I’m adorable?” Your words only make his grin spread even more, he knows he’s supposed to make an argument against that but he can’t bring himself to; it’s true, you’re perfect in every trace of the word.

But who was he to go down without a fight?

“But baaaaabe,” he whines further, folding his torso into the cart. “I’m so sore from practice and ‘Samu hit me with the ball and I’ve been walking funny since, and I just want my perfect, stunning, and oh, so smart-“

“Oh my god, fine, just get in the cart!” You snort, the giggles bubbling from your lips. He merely grins victoriously before scrambling himself up and into the cart, other shoppers watching in annoyance and amusement as you watch his knees fold up to his chest.

“Comfy?” You snort, to which he nods over enthusiastically. You roll your eyes before folding yourself over the front of the cart to plant a kiss on his head.

“What do you even need, anyways?” He hums, his head turning back and forth in the superstore, sharp eyes glazing over the shelves. You lean on the handles of the cart, looking around and making a beeline straight to the snacks, giving him a dramatic sigh as you do so.

“Well,” you hum. “I know you wanted m&m’s and popcorn, but I also wanted to grab a few bags of Doritos and since the fuckface I decided to let spoon me at night ate the last of my cookies,” your eyes glare dead at him, only to be met with a wide, toothy grin. “I need to buy more.”

“The guy who spoons you at night sounds hot.”

“The guy who spoons me at night sounds like I’m going to smother him with a pillow.” With that, you two make your way to the snack aisle, your eyes glazing over the contents of the shelves hungrily. “You want any drinks or anything?”

“Nah, I’ll just take whatever you buy.”

You glare at him, “that’s kinda the reason we’re in here in the first place, you clown.”

He snorts at the nickname before hooking his chin over the side of the cart, his sharp eyes flicking over the colored bottles and cans. “Toss me a grape soda.”

“Grape?”

“Yeah.”

“Mid,” you scoff, grabbing him a can to put in the cart. He blinks unamused at you, but ultimately keeps his mouth shut while you make your choice.

“Oh, but my choice is mid,” he teases as you plop a can of lemon lime in his lap.

“This flavor has been worshipped all over the world- you just like the taste of cough medicine or something.”

“My mom only buys the bubblegum flavored cough medicine.”

“Feral.”

The little back and forth you share passes the time as you turn the cart to the chips and Candy, and without sparing a second, you grab the Doritos and toss them carelessly into the cart, smirking as you hear them crunch against his head and body.

“You know, I may annoy you, but I am still in the cart,” he says, shielding himself from another bag of chips that you swat in the cart. When he turns his head up to glare at you, he sees the goofy smile spread over your cheeks, and he’ll happily get beat up by your snacks if it meant he could see it forever.

It’s simple. It’s comfortable, annoying each other throughout the aisles and laughing when the other makes a stupid jab, but Rintaro knows that this is all he’s worked up for. A domesticity that had to be crafted carefully, and he’s honored that you decided to map it with your love.

It’s nothing all like he’d expected love to be like- and now, it’s love he’d never change for anything.

“Get your cookies and lets get the hell out of here.”

“Why? Afraid we’ll miss another episode that we’ve seen forty-eight thousand times?” You jeer, steering the cart to the back wall, where all the cookies are tucked away. He decides to say nothing, merely letting your own joke make you chuckle.

He says you're easy to sedate like that. Really, he does it because the way you get the last word makes you happy.

He watches your lips pull back into an almost relieved smile, grabbing the box of cookies and nodding happily, all before turning back to him in the cart.

“Now be careful,” you warn, clutching the sweet to your chest protectively. “Suna, I’m trusting you with the most precious cargo in the cart. Do not blow it.”

“God, no need to bring out the government name, just give me the damned cookies,” he scoffs, making grabby hands and rolling his eyes when you hesitate. “And for the record, I’m the most precious cargo in the cart. Don’t even start with me.”

“You’re like. Fifth, on the tier list.”

“I’m going to fart on your pillow. Give me the cookies.”

You do, with another small smirk. "You want anything else, baby?" You ask, though you proceed to the checkout.

"Nah, I think I'm good, booger."

You hum and steer him to the self checkout, letting you bag the snacks while he passes them to you, citing you both as the "dream team"- which briefly collapses when you refuse to take his card to pay for everything and chuckling as he scrambles for the wallet tucked in his back pocket.

"You're annoying," he grumbles at your lack of acceptance for his chivalry.

"And you're squishing my snacks- you trying to sleep on the couch?"

Regardless, you push him out of the store and into the night air, and even if he'd rather chew on glass than admit it, the way your face relaxes at the feeling of fresh air makes him melt, and he smiles dopily until you jerk the cart.

"Okay. Get out."

"Huh?"

For a moment, just a moment, it's possible that Suna Rintaro forgot he's in the cart.

"Get out. I'm not wheeling you home, babe."

He sends you a playful glare before using massive hands to grip the side of the cart for leverage. He tries to push back, but his legs can't extend much farther out.

At this point, you're just watching, one brow cocked in amusement and tongue licking the corner of your mouth victoriously. If you didn't look so hot, Rintaro would be furious.

“Babe?”

“What's up, player?"

There’s a silence between you both. You're the absolute worst in this situation by barely even acknowledging his struggle. his lanky frame, still in the wired shopping cart, looks so cramped, and maybe, just maybe, if one of the Gods loved him, they would smite him down from the face of the earth right now.

You smirk, “problems?"

"I'm gonna cheat on you with Kita-San."

"Like he'll he's gonna want you when you're stuck in a cart you begged to be in."

He gnaws at his lip in focus, trying to will his knees to unbuckle from their position and out of the cart.

But they refuse.

He whimpers in his throat while you point and finally cackle at him, loudly, rudely, being absolutely no help in this scenario, and he finally hides his face in his bent knees in embarrassment.

“I’m stuck in the cart.”

4K notes · View notes

erwinsvow · 12 days

Text

really, rafe hadn’t even realized he’d done anything special.

he was used to having sarah’s litter of friends over at tannyhill, as annoying as it was. after one of them had needed an ambulance and a stomach pumping after too many shots snuck in upstairs in his sister’s room, he was trying to keep a handle on things, keep an eye on the situation. be proactive, be the man of the house, which he was when ward wasn’t there.

he thought he’d heard a bunch of girls scurry out in the morning, but he must have been wrong, because when he’s walking to his truck, he finds you, sitting on the ground next to your bike, blocking his exit.

you look angry, mumbling curses under your breath while you fiddle with something he can’t see—though your bike is tipped over and the wheel looks slightly deflated.

the first thought in his head is to tell you to move with your bike or he’ll run you both over. but that’s not what the man of the house would say, so instead he gets closer, crouching next to you.

“what’s goin’ on?”

you look up, startled. you were so focused on your broken bike that you hadn’t heard the footsteps of sarah’s older brother, the one she always complains about.

“everyone left for the beach already, i was gonna bike there. i got on and the wheel just gave out and i fell off. i don’t know what’s wrong with the stupid thing.” you’re facing your bike now, looking at the various gears and chains trying to make sense of it. you don’t look back at him but he’s still staring.

rafe doesn’t think he’s met you before, thinks he would have remembered—you were too pretty for him to forget.

he hoists the bike upright, spinning the tire until a gleam of silver comes around.

“nail in the driveway. your, uh, little bike didn’t have a chance.”

“crap. i don’t have the thing with me.”

“the thing?”

“the air pumpy thing. you know, the thing?” you look up at rafe to see his furrowed eyebrows.

“yeah, kid. sure.” he takes a step back, leaning the bike against his truck. “lemme go see what i can find.” you’re still perched on the ground, but pressing your palms flat on the pavement to get yourself up. “here-” he offers you his hand, helping you up.

even standing, you still have to look up at rafe to see his face.

“you don’t have to do that. i’m sure you’re busy. i can always walk-”

“nah, it’s fine. you saved my tire from getting that nail. stay here, i’ll be back.”

and you listen, twiddling your thumbs waiting for rafe. he comes back with a tire pump and other things that you don’t recognize, but you watch intently. when he pulls out the nail, he offers it to you, and you offer him your cupped palms to drop it into.

finally, rafe stands and moves the bike slowly, testing it out.

“here, kid. good as new.”

“wow. thanks rafe!” you beam, smiling brightly. “that was so nice of you. you’re so nice.” you think you sound a little dazed—but you are. rafe is so nice to you, nothing like what sarah had told you about him.

at first rafe can’t tell if you’re just joking or not, but he decides not when you don’t immediately get on your bike and ride to where your friends are.

“uh, thanks. it’s nothin’. m’not just gonna leave you here like your shitty friends did.” you laugh, still smiling at him. “well, uh, i’ll see you around, kid.” for once, he actually hopes he does.

after the beach that day, you swing back home, making sure to ask sarah what her brother’s favorite dessert is. you pack a big batch of oatmeal raisin cookies in a pretty pink tin and put them in the wicker basket attached to your bicycle, riding over to sarah’s place.

instead of going upstairs like you normally do, you wander into the kitchen, where rafe is standing, looking at some papers spread out on the island.

“hi, rafe,” you say, and when he turns to look at you, you smile big.

“hey, kid. uh, i don’t think sarah’s home yet-”

“oh, i didn’t come for her.” you open the tin, placing it on the counter infront of him. “i just wanted to say thanks for this morning. sarah said you like oatmeal raisin.”

he looks up down at the cookies, then at you.

“thanks. y’know, you didn’t have to do that.”

“maybe. you were just so nice this morning, i felt like i should do something.” you’re looking up at him with big, fluttery eyes and a thudding heart. “is there anything else i can do? that you want? to say thank you?”

he cocks an eyebrow, tilting his head, hoping he’s understanding you correctly while knowing that he is.

“yeah-yeah? anything else?”

“i just want to thank you properly,” you sigh, getting closer. being bold’s not new to you, but this is only the second time you’re talking to him. you’re sure he understands, with the tiny dress you wore here, the one with the low neck and thin straps.

“yeah. alright, kid. c’mon, upstairs.” you beam, darting up the stairs and giving him a show in the process. he stares from the foot of the stairs for a second before joining you.

you’re so glad you stuck that nail in your tire.

#this one is like.. becoming obsessed with rafe because hes nice to you once #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #hope everyone likes

405 notes · View notes

luveline · 2 months

Note

Omg please kbd uncle Eddie:’)

dad!steve x mom!reader, 1k

“Hi, Uncle Eddie.”

Eddie rubs his hands together, holds them out in front of himself, and summons the prodigal child forward. “Bethany. Quick, give me a hug.”

Bethie walks into his waiting arms, her giggle infectious as she says, “That’s not my name.”

“Bethie,” Eddie says with a sigh. “You know my full name is Edward. Full names are nothing to be ashamed of.”

“It’s Bethie.”

She pushes the hair off of his shoulders. He smiles at her and her little hands. If someone told him ten years ago he’d be carrying Steve ‘King of Hawkins High’ Harrington’s babygirl around like a treasure he’d laugh in their face, but he loves Beth. She’s hands down his favourite Harrington, and he’s allowed to have favourites as an uncle, though the other clingers are cool too. Beth is Eddie’s favourite because she’s an underdog, and because she’s so clearly infatuated with him. They’re best friends.

He gives her a pat between the shoulders and slips down into a seat in front of the TV. There’s no signs of the other babies nor their parents; Eddie always lets himself in when he’s coming around and he doesn’t expect wait service, but a hello would be nice. “Where’s mom and dad?” he asks, setting Beth down into the seat beside him. He zeroes in on a plate of pretzels and snags a few for snacking. “You’re downstairs by yourself?”

“No! They’re in the kitchen.”

“Really? What about Ave and Dove, then?” he asks through chewing.

“Dove is napping and Ave, um, went somewhere.”

He raises his brows. “Dad took her somewhere?” He imagines Beth would tell him Avery’s run away with similar nonchalance.

“To Grandma’s. They’re going to watch a play.”

“Oh,” Eddie springs up off of the couch. “Stay here, sweetheart, I’ll just go make sure they know I’m here.”

Eddie is scared to open the door. Why is it closed? He supposed parents are deprived of one another but he doesn’t wanna see you kissing. Then again, if he does see you kissing, Steve will die of embarrassment. That’s worth it.

“Hello!” he shouts, throwing open the door.

He makes you both jump hard, Steve’s head thwacking a cabinet and your hand thrown to your chest. You almost fall on your ass where you’re kneeling by Steve’s leg. His pant leg is pushed up to the knee, and you have a tweezers in hand —Eddie frowns abruptly.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks.

“Steve has a tick, you fiend. When did you get here?”

Steve groans. “The door was locked,” he says, rubbing the back of his head.

“Not well. Just stuck my credit card in there and wham. You guys should slide the chain in if you’re gonna leave poor Bethie all by her lonesome, don’t you think?”

“Eddie, the door was locked,” Steve says. “You’re the only weirdo in Hawkins willing to break in. Plus, I still have that baseball bat in the garage.”

“Sure. Come on, sweetheart, get off the floor. Let Eddie have a stab at it.”

You laugh and pull Steve’s pants down over his shin. “It’s fine, I already got it. He might get Lyme’s now because you scared the fuck out of me–”

“Language.”

“–but I heated it up and I think I got it.” You look up with a smile. Steve pauses his pained head rubbing to beam at you lovingly.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Or he’ll turn into a zombie, and that would make him cooler. Win win. So, dinner?” Eddie asks. “Should I go get something?”

“Nah, I made ravioli, you rude idiot. Where’s Beth?”

“I told her to stay put in case you were making out.”

Steve helps you up from your kneeling to dust you off. “Thanks for saving my life,” he sighs tiredly, kissing your cheek.

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns away. Steve should love and appreciate you, you’re awesome, but he’s also a loser and Eddie’s entitled to thinking such disparaging thoughts about his friend from time to time.

You and Steve made a kid as cool as Beth, so Steve can’t be too bad of a loser.

“Uncle Eddie?”

“Yes, my lovely sweetpea angel?” Eddie asks.

She stares at him, adorable in all her chubby-cheeked, sugary-eyed sweetness with her hands held up for another hug. Eddie leans down, says, “Daw, I can’t say no to you,” as she giggles into his hair. He strokes the top of her shoulder with his thumb. “So what’s happening? How did that painting go with mommy, did you put it in the contest?”

Steve nudges you forward with a hand on your shoulder. “He’d make a good dad, right?”

“For sure,” you say, “not as good as you, though.”

“Oh, you’re flirting with me, that’s cool… Are you free Friday night?”

“Probably gonna be pulling ticks off of some other guy's leg.”

“Oh, that’s fine, I was busy anyways.”

Beth giggles as Eddie tips her backward, a mixture of nerves and excitement that kids experience so much more than adults.

“I always expected him to just end up with a kid. Like, one night stand style,” Steve says.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. At least then he doesn’t get stuck marrying somebody he doesn’t love.”

Steve glares at you as you laugh, dragging you into his arms to smush kisses into your cheek. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Sorry, honey. I hope Eddie gets as lucky as me someday.”

Beth begs to be put down through giggles. “I don’t know,” Steve says, resting his cheek on your temple to watch her laugh, “I don’t think Eddie has luck, just sheer force of will.”

“He’d totally get a baby in a basket on his doorstep.”

Steve mulls it over. “God, he totally would.”

740 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 10 months

Note

Hi hii-! If it isn't a bother can i request either the dorm leaders + Jamil or the first years with an Mc who is basically like Mei from turning red with the whole turning into a Giant red panda and all? You can decide if they're gonna be yandere or nah i just wanna see how they would react to mc suddenly turning into a red panda whenever they get overwhelmed by their emotions ehe

Turning Red Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

When you came to their world to be the magicless prefect they know and love Grim is expected to be the only furry member of Ramshackle. They are soon proven wrong when you finally lose it. All the overblots, the stress, the mysteriously creepy gifts addressed to you. You’re hairs bright red color was nothing more than a random trait until you turned into a giant red panda:

Vil Schoenheit

“Well darling, this is unexpected…”

He’s genuinely surprised

But he can make this work

Being a connoisseur of working under pressure

He knows exactly how to calm you

Even when you're a giant panda

Some things may have to change like the amount of the sleeping potion he will give you

But know worries he can adapt

And with your newfound fame who better to preen you for your upcoming career

“Trust me, dear, this is my territory. So leave your cute paws in my hands.”

Kalim Al Asim

“Sooooo Fluffffy!!!!”

He’s so obsessed with shoving his face in your fur

And if you let him ride you, he’s on cloud 9

Your even cuter than you were before

But this is because your stressed!?!

Well as your future husband bestest friend he’s going to change that

So stay in Scarabia don’t even worry about going back to Ramshackle

He wants you to get used to living in luxury anyway

He’s more than happy to have you and Grim stay

Especially when you’re transforming into a panda

“Come on (Y/n)! You shouldn’t have to be stressed to bring out the panda!”

Azul Ashengrotto

“Well, we all have our…vices.”

This complicates things

How’s he supposed to turn you into a mermaid now?!

But it's fine

Hey, if you’ve made money on this before

He’s more than happy to get a piece of the pie

Granted he’s not exactly pleased that this is a stress response

Whoever’s the cause of that stress he’ll politely intercede

With a contract that will have their lively hood on the line

“Just know that once you sign my contract all your cares and worries and you+ will be mine to take care of.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“I see, we both seem to have our own reactions to stress.”

He’s oddly elated

He loves you deeply obsessively

So he will not tolerate anyone speaking negatively

Anyone

He’s offing everyone’s heads that he sees talking badly about your latest change

He relates and he wants to help

Funnily enough his fiery reaction to things you consider stressful has you relaxing if only to calm him down

And he’ll never admit it but he’s found you 10x more attractive when you angrily panda out

Leona Kingscholar

“See? I warned you not to bother them us. It’s not my fault your body will be in shreds.”

All the more reason to stay napping with him

But when you panda out he prefers to sit back and enjoy

He doesn’t really bother doing anything unless it's calming you down

And hiring a crew to clean up after you

He only is bothered by it when you don’t immediately yield to his control

Well other than your turning into a panda you’re still just a magicless prefect

That’s why it should be easier to keep you under his control

That or you’re going to be stressed with how many of your friends start avoiding you

Malleus Draconia

“What a marvelous trait!”

His heart is already set on you

But what is this?

This insatiable desire to rub his face into your fur and carry you around in your giant form?

“Is this…the fabled…cuteness?”

If anyone’s going to forget that they very well bring armageddon from cuteness aggression it's him

And because you being you have already fueled his emotions the electrical tempest that plagues NRC

He just reacts even worse when others have the same appreciation for your panda perfection

But only he is going ableto monopolize it

After all you don’t want the entire island falling into a sleep-like death right?

Jamil Viper

“So your emotions are tied to your panda and when it comes out?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s really cute That’s inconvenient.”

He’s pleased you most likely rely on him to assuage yourself from freaking out

And boy does he have so much more power

While your under his spell he might as well advise you to ask him on a date

Or forget about that missing student

Idia Shroud

“Whoa (Y/n)’s cuteness stats just upped themselves 40%!”

He’ll make even more merch

But he’s not selling it

There for him to squeeze and cuddle and pretend to make out with

Even better if you panda out in his room

so he can have your scent everywhere

He might even instigate it

2K notes · View notes

uncsukuna · 1 month

Text

jjk men & you: nail appointment!

tldr: gojo, geto, nanami, ino, choso, toji, sukuna + mahito going with you to your nail appointment.

cw: fem!reader. sukuna refers to reader as ‘woman’ once. and mahito.

a/n: this was fun lowk. might do it for jjk boys, depends on my motivation. idk if mahito particularly counts as a man, but he’s here for my mootie. time to sleep now, enjoy!!!

✿ — gojo:

first things first, he’s paying for your nails. which sounds like a good thing, until you realize he’s insisting on going along with you. he’ll pester you the entire time, suggesting colors and styles (how does he know so much?!) and then doing anything to get you to laugh or look at him. sometimes it results in your nail tech getting a little lot frustrated because he keeps making you squirm. eventually, tho, he’ll stop and let the tech finish up your nails.

“they’re cute. would’ve been cuter if you let me pick, buuuut... still cute.”

✿ — ino:

he’ll flex his knowledge about nails like it’s something revolutionary or suggest a style that he swears is completely unique, only for you to correct him and realize that it’s really just basic information. he’ll spend the rest of the appointment scrolling through pinterest and instagram, trying to find inspo for your next set.

“ooh, baby, look. these are nice, right?”

✿ — nanami:

only pays if you want him to, and only goes if you want him to. is content to let you pick whatever style you want, but likes to pick out bold colors and suggest designs based on your interests or adding charms. always tips the tech, and once your nails are done, he gently grabs your hand and kisses the back of it.

“these suit you perfectly, my lady.”

✿ — geto:

at first, he is nawt going in there. unless you find a sorcerer nail tech, he’s going to be slick the entire time. he’ll side-eye everyone else getting their nails done, judge their taste (“why would she choose that shit-brown?”), and stand up the entire time. he doesn’t want the germs. once you’re done, he’s pulling you out of there as quickly as possible.

“here, take this. ... yes, it’s hand sanitizer. you don’t want those monkey germs, right?”

✿ — toji:

only goes because you told him if he tagged along, you’d pay. in reality, he was going to go all along, just to make sure nobody tries anything. he will slap the shit outta somebody, including your nail tech. sits in a tiny chair by your side, massive head resting on your shoulder and arms crossed, absolutely knocked out. he’ll only wake up if you shrug your shoulder or if the appointment ends (he has some kind of sixth sense for that shit).

“huh? ... nah, i ain’t sleep. you cute, now c’mon.”

✿ — choso:

kind of like gojo, clingy asf. he won’t make suggestions (bro has no idea, pls bear w/ him), but he’ll praise any and every decision you make. his arms will be wrapped around your waist the entire time, earning him lots of ‘awhss’ and ‘look at them! so cute.’ tips the nail tech for “making you extra gorgeous.” his words, not mine.

“you look good, i swear. i like the colors, and the shape, and the design, and your hands...”

✿ — sukuna:

has a personal nail tech. you think he maintains them black nails by himself? no. threatens his nail tech to do good on your nails, otherwise it’ll be the last set they ever do. makes minor suggestions, but is content to sit back and let you decide for yourself. he does have a preference color, though, either black, red, or dark purple. gets a weird urge to nibble your fingers once your nails are done. please don’t ask why.

“hm? you look fine, woman. nothing rivals your natural beauty, so quit ya whining.”

✿ — higuruma:

he’s awake for the entire prep process. watching you pick your colors, decide on a design, get settled in the chair. the second the nail tech actually gets to work, though, he’s tapped out. just like toji, he’s sitting in a chair beside you, head either resting in your lap or on your shoulder. if he could sit across from you, his head would be on your chest. only wakes up when it’s time to pay (he tips!) or if something goes wrong.

“... mm? oh, those are nice, sunshine. i like the little designs, very cute.”

✿ — mahito ..?:

a lil shit the entire time istg. doesn’t care what you pick, will poke and squish and pinch and nuzzle you the whole process, annoying both you and the tech. considers getting his done to match yours, but realizes he could probably just morph the shape of his soul instead of sitting there.

“those are, like, so cute! ... no? you don’t like my valley girl accent?”

438 notes · View notes

azsazz · 2 months

Text

Midnight Muse (Part 23)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,470

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

“So…” Feyre trails off and your gaze slides to hers in the mirror from where you’re brushing on blush. Your first date with Azriel is tonight and you haven't been able to focus on anything all day. “You and Azriel?”

“Yeah,” you respond softly, trying to fight the smile that’s tugging at your lips. She already knows the news since she’d come back home this morning with Rhys in tow, trying to get you to come out for breakfast with them. When they saw Azriel padding out of your room shirtless, her jaw almost hit the floor. She was sputtering like a child and her boyfriend helped her get her bearings, violet eyes glittering as he grinned at Azriel. You had shrugged at each other as Rhysand guided Feyre back out the door with a cheerful goodbye. “Azriel and I.” Her brown brows are still furrowed and you don’t like that look, swiveling around in the mirror to face her. “Is it that crazy of a concept? I feel like this kind of thing happens all of the time.”

“In movies,” Cassian pipes up, exclaiming. He’s sitting on your bed next to your best friend, having invited himself over an hour ago.

You eye him. “What are you doing here again, Cass? Shouldn’t you be hyping Az up or something?”

“Nah, he has Rhys for that,” he winks over at Feyre who only raises her eyebrows in response. “I’m here because I’m seeing you off tonight.”

“You’re not my dad,” you scoff, fishing in your makeup bag for your mascara.

“But I’d let you call me that anytime, (Y/N),” he jokes and you shake your head fondly at him.

“I’m sure Azriel is going to love to hear that you’ve been flirting again.”

Cassian hugs one of your pillows to his chest, flipping through a book that you left on the table beside your bed. You wonder if he’ll find the page Azriel bookmarked for you when he’d been flipping through it, saying he’d slipped in a cheeky note for you to find along with the naughty passage. “He knows what I’m about. And if he feels threatened, that’s on him. I can just remind him of all of the times he used to—” The ringing of his phone cuts off his sentence and he slides it from his pocket, checking the caller before answering, murmuring a quiet hello down the line.

He frowns and you cock your head, watching intently. It’s not a face you think you’ve ever seen Cassian do seriously, and the way that his body tenses, you wonder who could be on the other line.

“Yeah, I’m on my way,” he says finally, hanging up the phone and springing up from your bed. He tosses the pillow back to the head of the bed and strides towards the door, a concerning pull to his eyebrows that has Feyre calling out to him as he makes for the door.

“Everything okay, Cassian?”

“I, uh—yeah, everything’s fine. I have to go,” he says but his mind is already in another place. “See you later.”

You and Feyre share a look in the mirror.

“So much for seeing me off.”

She grins at you, sliding off of your bed to join you in front of the mirror. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to do that.”

“Thanks,” you laugh, capping the mascara and putting it away. Leaning back a little, you admire your makeup in the mirror. “So, how are you and Rhys doing?”

You feel like you haven’t spent much time with Feyre lately, with her busy with her boyfriend and you busy with yours. Your boyfriend, the words have you giddy. You and Azriel are officially a couple now and everything feels right. There are no more late nights spent trying to get him to shut his music off or glaring at him when his eyes wander your way. Now, your nights are spent talking and kissing and touching. Lots and lots of touching.

Your heart stutters happily in your chest.

Feyre sighs dreamily. “He’s so great. I’m really glad we decided to move here this year, (Y/N).”

“Me too,” you grin stupidly at her and the both of you break out in giggles. “Fey, will you help me pick out some jewelry?”

Azriel told you to dress casually, something with jeans because somehow he convinced you to get back on that death-trap he holds so dear to his heart. It’s a sunny afternoon out, no clouds in sight, and it eases you slightly that you won’t have to ride it in the rain again, no matter how much you enjoyed being pressed up against him.

Now that you’re Azriel’s girlfriend, you’re free to press up against him whenever you want.

Naked, too.

“Here,” she says, hooking a necklace around your neck. She clasps it for you and you can’t help but stare at the blue gem that sits at the base of your neck, glittering in the light. It looks good, you think.

“Is it weird to be nervous?” you ask, playing with the pendent. “We’ve already had sex but I’m still feel all jittery.”

“Being nervous is completely normal,” Feyre answers, patting you on the shoulder. “You have to promise to tell me all about it when you get home.”

“I will,” you shoo her playfully, “I promise.”

You and Feyre chat lightly as you wait and it helps ease your nerves a little. She tells you about how excited she is about Halloween and asks if you think the both of you could convince the three boys next door to do a group costume with you. Cassian’s already been bragging about the insane pre-game party he throws every year before a night out at the bars, and you know you can easily get him on board.

A knock at the door sends your nerves skyrocketing again. You smooth down your shirt as Feyre rounds the corner to open the door, crossing her arms over her chest like a stern mother meeting her daughter's boyfriend for the first time.

She squeals when the door swings open to Rhysand on the other side. He laughs, sweeping her into his arms and guiding her backwards in his hug.

Your breath leaves your body at the sight of Azriel. He looks effortlessly handsome, his hair fingered through with a little gel even though he knows it’s going to be messed up from his helmet. His golden eyes gleam, crinkling at the corners with a smile when he catches your gaze.

He’s dressed in a simple black t-shirt but wears his leather jacket over it, the same one he had wrapped around your shoulders that night you spent in the rain. It’s pulled tight across his shoulders but he doesn’t seem to mind because the worn leather is comfortable.

Of course, he has his dark jeans on, and you catch his riding gloves peeking out of his pocket.

You move to him like a moth to a flame, eagerly accepting the kiss he bends down to give you.

“You look amazing,” he breathes against your lips, never able to part from you. Never wanting to part from you.

“Thank you, you look very handsome,” you compliment, holding him close by the flaps of his jacket.

“Ready to go?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, turning to say goodbye to Feyre and Rhys, who has his arms wrapped around her as they watch the two of you, grinning like fools.

“Where’s Cassian?” Rhysand asks, looking around the room. “I figured he’d be all up in Azriel’s business right now, playing the part.”

Feyre shrugs, answering. “We don’t know. He got a phone call and left right after.” Azriel and Rhys share a look that you can’t make out before Feyre’s continuing, sternly, “Don’t keep her out too late.” She points a finger at Azriel. He looks like he’s trying his best to stop himself from rolling his eyes and you stifle your laugh in the crook of your arm.

“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes, “See ya, Rhysie. Don’t have sex too loud tonight. Or on the couch.”

Rhysand only smirks in response. “Why? Is it your turn?”

Feyre smacks his chest and you drag Azriel out of the apartment before she can go at her boyfriend for that joke. You’ve all heard worse before from Cassian, so the quip rolls off of your shoulders easily…aaaand now you’re thinking about fucking Azriel on the couch.

“If we fuck on any couch, it’s going to be yours,” you comment as you step onto the elevator with him. Their couch is both bigger and comfier. You wouldn’t let Azriel suffer on your cheap, navy couch that you and Feyre got for a bargain.

“Fantasizing about fucking me on my couch, princess?” Azriel hums, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. The elevator feels almost stifling with the heat between you two, his eyes glittering with interest. “We can definitely make that fantasy come true. Do you have any others I should know about?”

“No,” you answer all too quickly, and you try not to think too hard about the intrigue that flares in his gold eyes. “How about you?” you aim the question back at Azriel as the elevator comes to a stop on the first floor, doors creaking open slowly.

You can feel his gaze on your face as he studies you, and he doesn’t answer until you’ve left the building, Azriel holding the door open for you. “No,” he answers, but you know it’s a lie.

It sparks interest in you, and when you cut him a glance from the corner of your eye, he’s smirking.

Two can play at this game, apparently.

Azriel shrugs out of his jacket and you’re taken back to the night when he’d given you a ride home in the storm as he helps you into it, admiring you in the loved leather before he tugs you closer. The smell of him is intoxicating to your senses and you don’t even care that the soon to be setting sun is warmer than usual because being encompassed in his jacket makes your heart flutter.

You’re pressed all up against his front and Azriel can’t help himself but to grin along with you, dipping his head down for one more kiss. He chuckles as your lips chase his, pressing up into him on your tiptoes to follow. Azriel plucks one of the helmets strapped to the back of his motorcycle and helps you into it with the promises of more kisses to follow throughout the night.

You have to squeeze your thighs together when he shoves his own helmet over that dark hair of his. He looks hot as fuck standing there with his tattoos on display, peeking out from under the sleeves of his shirt and creeping up his neck. Said t-shirt clings tightly to his chest as if he’s worn it because he knows what it does to you, and you follow the lines down his long body to his tight waist.

“Earth to princess,” Azriel calls, rapping on your helmet with his knuckles. You startle from your ogling, glaring up at him. The crinkles around his eyes and the shaking of his shoulders are clear signs of his amusement, and you can’t resist that blush that stains your cheeks. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you answer, but it’s a bit muffled from the helmet. Azriel helps you on his bike and when you’re settled behind him, he takes your hands and pulls them tight around his waist.

“Hold on tight,” Azriel reminds you and your heart picks up its pace at both the proximity of your boyfriend and the fact that you’ve somehow allowed him to talk you into getting on the damned thing again. You tighten your thighs around his waist, wiggling even closer to him to make sure you’ve got a firm hold, and he groans like a man shot. “You keep grinding up against me like that, princess, and we’re going to go right back upstairs to that couch.”

That doesn’t sound so bad, you think. You don’t have to endure a nerve-wracking ride on the motorcycle where all you’ll be able to think about is how much your body might slide if you fall and you’d get to see Azriel’s pretty dick.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Azriel takes off without another warning. You squeak softly, squeezing your eyes shut tight as he pulls away from the building.

You’re pretty sure he can feel the pounding of your heart against his back because at the first stop sign his hands come down to trace the length of your thighs, reassuring you with his touch. It helps settle you some, enough to peek your eyes open and watch the houses pass you by.

At some point in the ride, you actually find yourself enjoying it, muscles relaxing but your body still pressed in tightly to Azriel. You’re enjoying the feeling of the wind on your skin, pulling at your clothes and the feeling of Azriel’s warmth seeping through your front. You can understand how he feels so at ease like this, like a bat swooping through the night sky.

You arrive a few towns over where Azriel parks against a curb. It’s an artsy looking town, murals covering the sides of brick buildings, colorful storefronts calling to you left and right. The streets are bright from the streetlights and filled with laughter and a positive aura that stirs excitement in you, even more so when Azriel takes your hand.

“You okay?” He asks, a touch of concern flushing through those golden eyes. “The ride wasn’t too rough, was it?”

You shake your head, smirking up at him. “I’ve had rougher.”

He snorts, tugging you into him for a hug because your body pressed all hot up against his wasn’t enough. Azriel walks you down a block and down a pair of stairs. The walls are filled with graffiti and you look around in wonder while Azriel checks in with the young looking boy behind the counter.

He finds you, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed as you try and discern the oddly shaped letters painted on the wall before you. You have no idea what the word is supposed to say, it’s bright red coloring stark against the deep teal wall it’s painted on.

“Here you go.” Azriel hands you coveralls and you scrunch your face in confusion. He has his own pair, a deep navy, and in his free hand he holds two respirators.

“What’s all this for?” you ask, examining the beige jumpsuit he’s handed you. It’s clean and fresh, so you won’t complain.

“We’re spray painting,” Azriel answers almost sheepishly. At his tentative tone you look up, and you nearly grin. His cheeks are filled with warmth and you think this is the closest you’ve ever seen him to bashful.

“We are?” you ask, eager all of a sudden. You know it’s something Azriel said that he, Rhysand, and Cassian have fooled around with, and you’ve always enjoyed seeing the many tags and artwork created on buildings and trains. You even researched Bansky for one of your high school papers, finding his reasoning behind his works vastly intriguing, but you’ve never tried the medium yourself. “This is going to be fun!”

Azriel’s shoulders droop in relief. He hadn’t been one hundred percent confident in this choice for a date, but he thought dinner at a restaurant wouldn’t be enough to impress you and that going to see a movie was much too cliche.

He smiles softly, reveling in the excitement in your eyes. “I think so too.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Where do you get your inspiration from?” you ask Azriel, voice sounding muffled through the mask as you watch him paint a long, black line down the wall. The fan’s in the room are loud so you have to shout. You’d seemed nervous when you stepped into the room, cans of spray paint littered around the floor, the walls filled with intimidating artwork that you hardly had the heart to paint over, but now you’re most definitely enjoying yourself.

Azriel had been a reassurance from the get-go, explaining that everyone who booked time here comes in knowing that whatever they paint is going to be gone when the next guests arrive, so there’s no pressure to put on yourself, only to have fun.

And it is fun, getting a feeling for the can in your hand, how hard to press, how far to hold the can from the wall. Azriel showed you some techniques, guiding your hands in different motions to create perfect circles, to get the paint drips you were eyeing from someone else’s work. The only complaint you have about this date is that the masks make it difficult to kiss Azriel, who you’ve wanted to jump since he’d pressed his body flush against yours when showing you how to paint funky letters, his other hand a solid weight on your hip.

You’ve been in awe of him all night, sneaking looks over your shoulder at what he was painting; a skeleton stallion with a skeleton riding it, sword raised as if leading an army of the dead into war. He’s skilled in many mediums and your heart aches as you wonder how it’s possible that he hasn’t been able to receive an apprenticeship yet.

Something stings in your chest. The way that Azriel draws, paints, tattoos…there’s a confidence there that you’re envious of. Every spray he makes seems so sure, so well laid it’s like he can see the end result as he’s working. You yearn to feel like that.

“What do you mean?” he asks, eyes flicking to yours for a moment before returning to his work, letting you know that you have his full attention. You’re in the midst of painting the skeleton horse's eyes a bright neon green, whispers of black shadows swimming from its nostrils.

You sigh, abandoning your can of paint and wiping the remnants of the pigment on your coveralls. “All this time I’ve known that I want to be in art, that I want to do something with it, but everytime I make something, it never feels good enough. Like I’m not as proud of it as I should be. I don’t have a style like you or Feyre do, and, if I do, I haven’t noticed it yet.”

Azriel fully stops what he’s doing and turns to you. His hand comes up to caress your jaw, tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes are soft with concern and there’s a wrinkle between his brow that makes you want to reach up and smooth it out, suddenly embarrassed that you’ve brought this up during your perfectly good date.

“Is that how you feel?” he asks, and you shrug shyly. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all, but it’s been something that eats at you, day by day. “It sounds like you’re missing a muse, princess.”

You frown. “A what?”

“A muse,” Azriel repeats simply. “Something that inspires you.”

Something that inspires you. You toss the words around in your head, thinking. Surely, you find things inspiring. You wrack your brain trying to come up with something, something that keeps you captivated, gives you the urge to put your pencils to your paper and create something beautiful…but there’s nothing.

“So, you’re saying you inspire yourself?” you tease, thinking back to his exhibition. You tease, because if you don’t laugh, you might cry. You can see the glint of amusement in his eyes, and you continue your soft jab. “How very narcissistic of you, Az.”

Azriel rolls his eyes and before you can joke further, he’s lifting his can of spray paint and marking you with a big heart across the entire front of your coveralls. Your mouth drops open in shock but his smirk makes the feeling roll right between your thighs.

“I believe that muses have the ability to change,” he answers your earlier question. He’s staring down at you intently, and maybe he’s waiting for you to pick up a can and retaliate. Or maybe he’s thinking exactly what you’re thinking: trying to find someplace to tear each other's clothes off.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask defiantly. You want to cross your arms over your chest but you don’t want to ruin his work. It feels like you’ve been branded by him, claimed by his artistic talent, and something flares within you at the very idea. “What’s your muse now?”

Azriel doesn’t answer but he doesn’t need to. The way he seems to be devouring you with his eyes tells you all you need to know about who his current muse is.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumebrs @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakura-frost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie

#midnight muse #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #tattoo artist!azriel #artist!azriel #art school au #acotar au

571 notes · View notes

comradeghosty · 5 months

Text

Not a Study Session (NSFW)

NSFW Stoner!Ace x reader fic

Summary: You are supposed to meet your friend Luffy to help him study, but run into his older brother instead.

Tags: College AU, first time, corruption, fingering, vaginal sex, recreational weed use, praise

!!! 18+ !!!

I also posted on AO3

You walked up to Luffy’s house, backpack in hand and ready for your study (tutoring) session with the guy. Both of you were in this pre-calc class together, you because it was required for your major and Luffy because it was a required credit to graduate college. Needless to say, the man was hopeless on his own, but you helped pull his grade up to a C last quarter.

Usually he met you at your place, but your roommate had guests over for a party. Luffy offered for you to meet him at his house, telling you that his guardian wasn’t home for the weekend so it was free. So when the door swung open to a tall, tan man with long, dark hair, you were surprised. You adjusted your grip on your bag, shifting a little nervously and intentionally NOT looking at his bare chest. Seriously, who answers the door in just sweatpants?

“You're… not Luffy…?” you said dumbly, not expecting anybody to be at home.

The man leaned against the doorframe, cocking his head slightly. He wore a slight smile. “So, you’re Luffy’s friend from college?”

You avoided looking at his dark eyes, which felt like they pierced straight through you. It was a little uncomfortable how exposed you felt standing in front of him, watching his eyes flick down to take in your outfit. You wished that you had worn pants instead of a skirt. Of course, you couldn’t ignore that he was… very handsome. His long hair brushed his broad, freckled shoulders. You saw the way his strong jaw flexed when he spoke.

“I, uh- yeah. Um… is Luffy home? We were supposed to study for the test next week,” you mumbled. The man in the door barked out a laugh.

“Ahh, I see. You’re the one helping him pass. You must be such a smart girl,” he smiled, his grin wolfish, like he might eat you up at any moment. “Nah, he’s at soccer practice right now. Since you came all this way, might as well stay. He’ll be home in maybe an hour.”

You felt your fingers fidgeting nervously, not wanting to be annoying by staying while Luffy isn’t even home. “Oh, no it’s fine. I can wait at the coffee sh-” you tried to protest, but the man already ushered you in by a large hand on the small of your back.

Once inside, he closed the door behind you. He turned toward you with that huge grin on his face again. You swore his teeth sparkled. “I’m Ace, by the way. Luffy’s older brother. I’m sure you’ve heard of me,” he chuckled, winking at you. You stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Ace walked past you into the living room, flopping down on the couch in the living room. He was so relaxed, his lithe body moving in what you could only describe as a saunter.

Ace pulled out a large bong from somewhere you didn’t see, looking at you while packing a bowl. “You look so tense. Relax, I’m not gonna force you. Put your stuff down and come sit with me,” he offered, patting a couch cushion to beckon you over.

“O- okay,” you stammered out, setting down your backpack near the front door and kicking your shoes off. Ace smiled at you when you sat down, leaving a bit of space between you. Slowly, you looked around the living room to distract yourself from your proximity to the man. The TV was on, featuring some pirate cartoon that Ace was probably watching. There were pictures hanging up that featured the brothers, and you shook your head when you felt yourself staring at a picture of Ace on the beach. You felt Ace’s knee press against you, and you were startled out of your trance, your body stiffening and eyes widening. For some reason, Luffy’s brother put you on edge, and now he was touching you. Ace chuckled at your reaction, and you felt a blush dust your cheeks.

“You’re a good girl, aren't you?”

His words had your thighs tightening slightly, your eyes flitting quickly to his. “I- uh.. I’m sorry?”

“Like… in school?” he clarified, his eyes shifting back to the bong on the coffee table. You looked down, a bit mortified at your reaction, missing the smirk that stretched across Ace’s face.

“O- oh… I guess… I’m a straight A student, if that’s what you're asking,” you mumbled out quickly, trying to move on. Swallowing hard, you tried to relax a little. It was embarrassing how jumpy you were.

Ace just hummed in response, lighting the bong. You watched as his mouth moved to the mouthpiece, the way his hand flicked the lighter, the rising of his chest as he inhaled the smoke. He knew you were watching him, but you were too focused to notice that he caught you. The bong was placed back on the table, and Ace exhaled. Fine ribbons of smoke drifted out from between his lips, and it was mesmerizing, you felt entranced. He licked his lips before turning to face you. You felt his eyes studying your face.

“You ever smoked before?” he asked. You shook your head, your eyes shifting to the cartoon on the TV. God, Ace thought you were so cute. His head tilted a little, grinning. “You wanna try?”

“Oh, uh.. I- well… okay,” you stuttered, feeling your face get warm again. If you could just stop blushing around him, that would be great!

“Ha, cute… okay,” Ace murmured, scooting closer to you. Your legs touched now, thighs pressed against each other. A shiver rolled through your body at the contact. “So here’s what we’re gonna do. Since you’ve never smoked before, I don’t want you inhaling directly from the bong. How about you shotgun a hit? It’ll be easier on you.”

You looked down, just nodding in response, when you felt Ace’s hand snapping in front of your eyes. He prompted you to look at him, and you had to look up to see his face. How had you not noticed how tall he was before?

“You gotta use your voice, you wanna try to shotgun? Hm?” he asked again. How he stayed so easy going while you were practically trembling, you didn’t know. All you could focus on was the way his skin was freckled across his nose and his bare chest. He was so close to you, warmth emanating from him. You could smell him, like smoke and sandalwood. God, he even smelled warm. You shifted in your seat.

For a second, you just nodded again before remembering you were supposed to speak out loud. “Ah, yes. But… I don’t know what that is,” you admitted shyly. It was sometimes embarrassing how inexperienced you were for a college student.

Ace chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’m a good teacher.” You felt reassured by his easy demeanor, like he wouldn’t judge you for not knowing. That put you at ease, and you started to really relax around him. You turned slightly, facing him while he explained how to shotgun a hit.

The way his lips moved was almost hypnotizing, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. As he explained, you intermittently nodded at him, your eyes flitting between his eyes and mouth. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. He finished up his explanation and looked at you, his eyebrows lilted. You watched as he wet his lips. “Alright? You got it? Think you can do it?” He looked for your confirmation, to which you nodded fervently. You had never been particularly interested in weed before, but you really wanted to impress Ace.

“Y- yeah, I can do it,” you said, looking for his approval. You smiled up at him, your eyes wide and eager.

A large, warm hand rested on your knee. Ace smirked at you, “good girl. Now, I need you to move here so it’s easier for you.” Before you could react, the brunette's large hands took yours, and you let him guide you off the couch to kneel between his legs. You faced him, looking up at him with your hands resting on your thighs. Nerves started itching at you again before he picked up the bong. “Ready?” He wet his lips again, looking down at you.

“Mhm, I’m ready,” you nodded again. The anticipation made you so antsy to just do this. Ace flicked his lighter, but before he put the flame to the stem, he paused.

“I forgot to say,” he began, his eyes half lidded, “you have to put your lips against my lips to take the hit.” A smirk graced his lips as he flicked the lighter again and lit up the bong. Your mouth parted slightly, your eyes wide as you just nod dumbly up at him. Ace took the hit, a mouth full of smoke as he gripped your chin in his large hand. He angled your face up towards his, thumb brushing over your bottom lip to silently ask you to open.

Your lips parted as he got closer to you, and you closed your eyes. When his lips touched yours, you felt yourself slightly jump but relax quickly as he inhaled the smoke into your mouth. You breathed in, the smell of weed and Ace filling your lungs. His lips were soft, and you briefly imagined kissing him before he pulled away. The smoke scratched at your throat when you breathed in, and you tried to hold the hit in your lungs as long as you could before you broke out into a coughing fit. The smoke was harsh on your throat, but you didn’t anticipate that since Ace made it look easy and effortless. Coughs wracked your body, and you found your forehead resting on Ace’s knee as you tried to catch your bearings. His hand stroked your hair, and you heard his soft voice murmuring to you.

“Gooooood girl. You're taking it so well,” he cooed. Ace’s large hand moved to your neck, cradling the back of your head and tugging slightly at your hair. You were pliant for him, letting him move you back so he could gaze down at you. His eyes were half lidded, and you could say he looked almost sleepy if it wasn’t for a stark alertness in them. A bottle of water materialized in front of you.

You coughed a little more. “Please, ‘m thirsty,” you whined for the water. Ace smirked, and god he looked like he wanted to eat you up.

The hand in your hair leaned your head back a little as Ace brought the bottle to your lips. You parted your lips for him, blushing at how intently he watched your mouth. “There you go… open… so good at following directions,” he breathed. The bottle of water tipped a bit, and he poured the water into your mouth, feeding you. His thumb rubbed firmly against the back of your neck, and he smiled. “Swallow… yeah, that’s it.” You looked up at him as you drank the water, small moans and noises coming from your throat as you drank greedily. A few drops of water dribbled down your chin before Ace pulled the bottle away, his thumb brushing away the droplets and dragging slightly against your cheek. “Atta girl, so good for your first time.”

Ace drew away from you, the thumb that wiped the water from your lips coming to his mouth. You felt frozen as you watched his thumb disappear between his lips, seeing his pink tongue lick lazily over the digit. An ache formed in your abdomen as you knelt, entranced as you watched him lap at his thumb. You didn’t even realize the way your mouth parted and your breathing got heavier, the weed slowly hitting you and relaxing your boundaries and awareness. “F- fuck,” you whined, your face getting red as you realize you just moaned out loud. Ace’s eyes met yours, mischievous. You watched as he cocked his head to the side, raising one of his eyebrows.

“Yeah? You like that?” he hummed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Your faces were so close. All you could do was nod, you were speechless. Ace smiled, “you want some more?” You nodded again, quickly. Anything to get him to touch you again. He chuckled, his hand cradling your head once more. “Cute. Open your mouth for me.”

Your lips parted in anticipation of more water, before you saw him lift the bottle to his own lips. There was barely any time to register what was happening before Ace took a mouthful of water into his own mouth and leaned down to your mouth. His lips were on yours and you felt a gush of liquid enter your mouth as he transferred the water to you. A moan bubbled up from your lips as you swallowed against him, your lips still touching. You felt Ace smirking against your mouth at your moan, and that was enough for you to abandon all shame and inhibitions.

In one fluid motion, you gripped his thighs and pushed yourself up into him, kissing him messily. Your body stretched up to meet his mouth, and you devoured him like you were starved. The kiss was wet from the water, but neither of you cared, relishing the feeling of your tongues sliding against each other. Whines and moans escaped your mouth as your lips greedily mashed against his. His name escaped your mouth in a whimper, and Ace chuckled against you. “Ha, so needy… C’mere,” he murmured, biting at your lip before pulling back.

Ace bent down and wrapped his hands around your ass, cupping your cheeks as he pulled you up into his lap. Both of your legs rested on either side of his thighs as he squeezed you firmly. Your skirt bunched up around your hips, and you desperately pressed your lips back to his, whimpering and whining as your teeth knocked against his. If you were sober, you probably would’ve worried that Ace could feel your inexperience, but you were so desperate for him that it didn’t even cross your mind. You just wanted, needed, him more than anything. Ace’s hands wandered up your ass, gripping your waist and pressing you down into his lap. You gasped, feeling his hard length against your panties.

“Ahh,” you whined, your eyes wide as you stare at him. A blush spread down your neck as you felt Ace pressing himself up against you. A whimper left your lips as the brunette’s large hands moved your hips, grinding you down against his cock. “A- Ace…”

You saw Ace concentrating, letting out shaky breaths as your clothed cunt rubbed against him, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. His hands squeezed your waist and you felt his deep voice radiate through your chest as he asked, “You ever done this before?”

A shiver shot down to your stomach, and your face burned. You looked up at Ace, eyes wide and mouth parted as you breathed heavily. Ace’s half lidded gaze made you feel naked, bare before him, the way his dark eyes saw straight through you. “Uh uh,” you shook your head, knowing that he already knew the answer. Ace smiled, one of his hands snaking up your side to touch your breast.

“Don’t worry, cutie, you’re doing great,” he praised you, thumb skimming over your hardened nipple that peeked through your shirt. Your eyes fluttered shut at the contact, the foreign feelings sending shocks right between your thighs. As Ace’s hand moved back down to your waist, you felt yourself losing yourself in the feelings. Your body moved on its own, your high making everything more sensitive. Every time his bulge brushed against your clothed clit, a moan slipped through your mouth. Ace felt it too, sensitive and wanting as he rhythmically pressed himself into you. His quiet moans and sounds went right to your cunt, and you could feel your wetness soaking through your panties.

You felt Ace’s hands move down your waist to your skirt, tugging slightly at the hem. “May I?” he asked. His knuckles skimmed against the outside of your thighs.

“P- please, Ace, please,” you begged, needy as you grinded against him. Ace smirked as his hands dipped under your skirt, gripping your thighs. It’s so sensitive, the way his hands danced against the delicate skin of your inner thighs. Your head slumped over, your forehead resting on his shoulder as you whined against him. All of the sensations were so new and amplified and overwhelming in the best way. Your hands rested against his bare chest. “Oh… god,” you moaned out when you felt his thumb brush against your panties.

“Fuck… you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” he asked you, smirking and rubbing his thumb more insistently against you. “You respond so well to me, pretty.”

You felt yourself get lost in the sensations, your mouth parted as you pant against his shoulder. “I need you to do something for me,” he urged. Ace’s hands disappeared from your body and you whimpered at the loss of contact, looking up at him with wide eyes. He smiled down at you, kissing you and biting at your bottom lip. His hands found yours, and he moved them to your skirt hem before pulling back. “I wanna see. Hold this up for me, alright?” You nodded, using both of your hands to pull your skirt up. Ace’s gaze darkened as he watched you expose yourself to him, shuddering as he watched your white cotton panties rub against his hard on.

“P- please Ace, please… do something. Please,” you begged, your eyes squeezed tight as you grinded down desperately. Ace was flushed and panting as he watched you move. His hands gripped your thighs again, moving upwards along your sensitive skin. You felt his thumbs press against you though your panties, slowly and arduously rubbing your slit.

“Like that? Is that what you want, angel?” he crooned, his voice breathy with want. You clenched the skirt in your hands, bucking your hips for more friction. It was so frustrating, you wanted more but it was so embarrassing to ask. Your face was flushed, eyes shut tight and breathing heavy. Ace couldn’t take his eyes off you, mesmerized by how responsive you were. “God… you look so cute like this.”

His thumb moved quickly across the wet spot on your panties, Ace’s gaze on where he touched you through your clothed cunt. A smirk crossed his face as he dragged his thumb up, brushing the digit over your clit. “Ah, fuck, Ace!” you cried out, clenching around nothing. You heard his breathing grow ragged as he watched you shudder as he rubbed circles through your panties. “Please, please please, Ace…” you chanted, so desperately needing more.

You heard Ace mutter under his breath, sighing out a breathy “fuck” before sliding your panties to the side and dipping two fingers into your slit. “You're so wet, so good for me,” Ace groaned. If he could’ve gotten any harder, he would’ve. He pulled his fingers off of you, moving them to his mouth and tasting you, moaning around his fingers as he greedily sucked them. You watched him, confused and turned on as his soft tongue worked its way around the digits. Ace opened his mouth, eyeing your expression.

“That’s… weird,” you breathed, the action being completely foreign to you.

Ace chuckled around his fingers before pulling them out of his mouth. “Nah, you taste delicious. Here,” he offered you his fingers, pushing them in your mouth before you could protest. “Suck.”

His fingers pressed against your tongue as you hesitantly sucked them, the taste of yourself on his skin was interesting but not bad. The moan that Ace let out was unholy, his head leaned back as your tongue swirled around his digits.

“God,” he moaned, pulling his fingers out and returning them to your cunt. The middle finger dragged through your slit and pressed against your hole. “You ready?” he asked, checking in with you that this was still okay.

You nodded, still holding up your skirt as Ace watched his finger sink into you. The feeling was so strange, but it was so enjoyable and you moaned out loudly. Ace wanted nothing more but to bury his cock in you as soon as possible. Slowly, he pumped his finger, letting you adjust to the feeling. Ace could feel you shaking. “How does it feel?” he asked, wanting to gauge your reaction.

“Haa, so good, so good Ace…” you whined, feeling yourself move against his finger. “Want more… please…”

Ace grinned widely, slowly pushing a second finger into you. “Your wish is my command,” he murmured, still hazy from his high. It was so hot to him how needy you were, how bad you wanted him. He fucked his fingers into you at a quicker pace as he watched your chest rise and fall as you panted. “God.. you're so pretty on my fingers,” he praised you, watching you grind against him harder in response.

“I- I want…” you whined, flushing dark. “Ace… P- please…” One of your hands dropped your skirt, moving down to touch his clothed cock, rubbing a thumb against the shaft.

“F- fuck… God... You’re so perfect for me,” he moaned, his eyes fluttering shut. You watched as he used one hand to undo his pants, pulling his cock out. It was thick, with dark hair at the base. A moan escaped your mouth as you clenched down around his fingers, making Ace grin. “Yeah? Like what you see?”

He pulled his fingers out of you, using your wetness to slick his cock. One of your hands wandered down to meet his, touching him as he stroked himself. You felt him take your hand and place it on his cock, wrapping his hand around yours to show you how he likes it. Ace’s head leaned back with the sensation of your hand on his cock, moaning out your name and mumbling about how perfect you felt on him.

“Mm, Ace… want you… please…” you whined. One of his hands gripped your waist, adjusting you so you hovered right over him.

“Keep holding that skirt up… Wanna see…” Ace mumbled, need ravaging his brain. He pushed you down a little so he could run the tip of his cock through the wetness of your cunt. “Fuck, so wet for me.”

You struggled to hold the skirt up, trembling as he pressed against your hole. “A- Ace,” you whined as the hand on your waist pushed you lower, feeling the head of his cock push into you. His eyes were glued to the sight, loving watching himself enter you.

Ace breathed out, whispering a string of “fuck,” “so good,” and “so tight.” You sank down on him slowly, inch by inch as he filled you. “Breathe, make sure to breathe,” he reminded you and probably reminded himself as well. Your cunt squeezed around him, he was so thick as he bottomed out in you. Ace held you against him as you adjusted to the feeling of being full. “You’re doing so good for me, there you go,” he murmured.

He started slowly, shallowly fucking up into you as you whined and moaned. The sensation was so new but so good, the head of his cock dragging against the sensitive spot in your cunt. Every time he filled you completely, the base of his cock bumped against your clit, sending fireworks down to your toes. You clenched around him every time, egging him on. “Oh, god, fuck Ace… feels so good… ‘m so full… please…”

Ace felt himself losing his composure at the whines and moans you made, wanting to fuck you hard and fast. The way you were so innocent and willing made him want to absolutely ruin you. He started pulling you down as he fucked up into you, lightly at first, but slowly moving you faster. You felt your head slump forward, blissed out with the quick and rough thrusts. A small string of drool dripped from the corner of your mouth as you panted.

“Ha, fuck…” Ace groaned as he watched his cock thrust in and out of you. He could feel himself getting closer, so he moved a thumb to your clit and rubbed circles on it as he fucked you. He built up your orgasm quickly, and you could feel yourself tensing up. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you rocked yourself against him, bouncing yourself on his cock. The sensations were so much, the feeling of fullness when he bottomed out, the thumb on your clit, even the lingering high made you feel good and sensitive.

“Please, please…” you whined. You were so close.

“C’mon baby, I wanna feel you cum around me,” he moaned, feeling you tighten around him.

A few more thrusts and you were cumming hard, clenching down on his cock and crying out. “God, fuck. Ace, I’m cumming. ‘S so good. Fuck,” you moaned, stringing together words and mumbled nonsense as you rode the feeling out against him.

“So fucking perfect,” Ace gritted out as he gripped your waist harshly. He held you up as he pounded into you, fucking you with abandon. You cried as you slumped against him, overstimulated. “So good, you feel so fucking good, god, fuck,” he whimpered, pulling out of you and cumming all over your thighs. You felt his shallow breaths against your neck as you both laid there, spent and exhausted.

Both of you were sticky and wet. After a moment, you felt Ace lift you and carry you to the bathroom. He sat you on the counter, getting a warm, damp washcloth and wiping you off. You felt boneless, slightly slumped over but more clean. Ace pushed your hair back behind your ear, kissing your cheek. “How are you feeling?” he asked. You couldn’t really formulate a response, nodding your head and grunting out an affirmative noise. He chuckled at you.

“You did so good for your first time. Let me take you home, I don’t think you’re gonna be much help studying today,” Ace smirked. “Guess that means you’ll have to come back later this week.”

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fanfic #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace smut #one piece smut #ace x reader #stoner ace is so fucking real #op x reader #x reader #fanfic #i actually and seriously am in love with him please

870 notes · View notes

rocketrhap3000 · 6 months

Text

sweet creature

requested: hello!! could you please write about domestic fluff with one of pedro's characters! i know you may have to make it an AU/change his character a bit but I would love love love to see some fluffy dad!Joel. Thank you so much!

warnings: jackson era, dad!Joel, mentions of birth/pregnancy complications, pure pure fluff!

find my main masterlist here

Turning over in bed, you wake up, not really knowing why you can’t simply stay asleep. The space of the bed surrounding you feels icy and vacant, and when you reach over to cuddle up with Joel's body heat, you realize why you’re chilled and awake: he’s not there beside you.

Sighing, you rotate back over and push yourself up just enough to look over into the bathroom, but he’s not there, either. You start to worry as you turn your head back to let your eyes scan the darkness of the room.

Finally, your eyes land on Joel, in a cross-legged seated position and looking at your sleeping son through the bars of the crib. You smile and slide out of bed quietly, taking the few steps over to the newborn and his father.

“Joel,” you whisper, letting your hands fall on your husband’s shoulders.

The tiny baby is sleeping deeply and contently in his crib, handmade by Tommy and Maria as a gift; the steady rise and fall of his little belly is so comforting to watch and the sound of his little snores could easily soothe you both back to sleep.

“Hm,” Joel murmurs, turning his head just enough so that he can place a kiss on your knuckles. You squeeze his shoulders just a bit, then move your hands to run them through his hair, starting at the crown of his forehead and sweeping your hands through his soft, silvery locks to the back of his head.

“What are you doing?” you ask in a whisper, sinking down to his level, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear and situating yourself behind him. You wrap your arms around his torso so that your front is pressed against his back and you rest your cheek on the back of his shoulder.

“Just… watchin’ him,” he sighs after a long moment of silence, leaning back into a cross-legged sitting position, yourself.

You crawl around to sit beside him, linking your arm through his and resting your head on his shoulder, directing your own attention to your sleeping son. At only one week old, he's such a tiny little thing, and it's so peaceful to watch him sleep.

“Hey. You should be sleeping, Mama,” Joel then whispers, kissing the side of your head.

��And so should you, Papa,” you nudge him softly, and you can see in your peripherals the minuscule smile that drapes onto his lips at the sound of that name in your voice.

You had first heard him use the word to refer to himself while talking to the baby after changing him out of his soiled diaper the first night back home from the Jackson hospital. Joel jumped out of bed to take care of the crying infant, insisting you stayed in bed as much as possible to fully recover.

He thought you were sleeping while he took the freshly cleaned baby to the living room and talked gently to him as he fell back asleep in his father’s arms. Ever since hearing that name Joel had used for himself, it stuck. Seeing him with your precious son, you couldn't imagine referring to him as anything else.

Slowly, you turn your head to look up at him and you’re met with his tired eyes and sleepy smile. You know he’ll stay awake simply watching baby Oliver sleep for hours and hours on end if you don’t make him go to sleep yourself.

“Nah,” he silently clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“Honey, those circles under your eyes say differently,” you contradict, running your hand across his cheek and tracing your finger delicately underneath his soft, honeyed eyes.

The dad life has already physically started to take effect on him. His luscious beard has grown past the length where he normally would trim it, much to your liking, and there’s those small grey patches of hair shimmering on his chin that you love oh so much.

His voice has a different, calmer rasp to it now; it could be from all the coffee and not enough water he’s been drinking to stay awake, what with patrol shifts scattered in with the night shifts he’s on here at home, but it also could be him getting used to lulling his son to sleep just with his voice.

And those golden eyes have a new sparkle to them, but they are accompanied by dark bags from a lack of sleep. Everything about him is softer, more domestic, and you can’t get enough of him.

“You have to sleep, too,” you remind him, letting your fingers tangle in his hair.

“I can’t sleep, Darlin’,” he refuses again quietly.

“Why not?” you ask, moving your hand back down to caress his face which is contorted with a heartbroken expression.

“I just can’t. Not with the image of our baby hooked up to those tubes still lingerin’ in my head… his poor little body being poked and prodded… I just can’t. I can’t sleep when the thought of Oliver fightin’ for his little life is still at the forefront of my mind,” he rasps.

“But he’s doing so well now, though, Joel. You know that. He’s at a healthy weight, he’s nursing well, and last week’s checkup went perfectly. Joel, the doctors would let us know if they were concerned about him,” you reason softly, letting your fingers scratch lightly at his beard.

“I know. I know. I just… God, I was so scared,” his trembling voice breaks. “For him and for you. When they took him away from us right after he was born. He was-- he is still so small and so helpless. Bringing a baby into this world and making you go through all that you did… Darlin’, the idea of losing him or you… or both of you, I just-"

“Joel,” you interrupt him, keeping one hand on his cheek and placing your other on his neck. “Take a deep breath for me,” you encourage, and after a second of just staring at you, he finally takes in a long, controlled drag of air.

“That’s it,” you coo. “Honey, he’s healthy now. He’s home now. We’re all home now. And we’re together. And nothing’s gonna happen to us, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeats, then pauses, then leans in to kiss you sweetly. Pulling apart just enough to look you in the eyes, he speaks up again. “I never wanna be apart from him. I never wanna be apart from you. I love you so much, (Y/n),”

“I love you, too, Joel,” you say, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. “Let’s go back to bed, hm?”

And he nods in agreement, helping you to stand and leading you to bed where the two of you slip back under the warmth of the covers and almost instantly cuddle up together. You lay your head on his chest and he begins rubbing your back, making sure you’re comfortable above all else.

“He’s going to grow up to be just like you,” you whisper, letting your fingers dance over his arm. “I just know it.”

“Nah,” he whispers back, mumbling into the top of your head. “He’s gonna be so much better than me.”

“Joel, can you grab me a diaper from the shelf?” you call out, weak and sleep-deprived.

Your husband ambles on over from the bed with the prized possession in clutch, placing a firm yet gentle hand on his squirmy eight month old son’s tummy to hold him in place as he steals your spot standing at the changing table.

“Let me,” he mumbles to you sweetly, kissing your cheek, and you can feel that lush beard tickle your skin.

“It’s okay, Joel, I can--”

“Back to bed, Darlin’,” he insists quietly, taking over the job of changing your infant son out of his soiled diaper. You fall back into bed, tired and worried, and Joel is quick to complete his task and hurry back over to you with chubby Oliver in his arms; eight months into being a father again and he's already mastered diaper changes. He settles into bed next to you, both of you now sitting up against the headboard.

“It’s just a tummy bug. Doctor said it’s nothin’ to worry about,” he whispers, leaning into you so that you’re looking over his shoulder at the (now happily sleeping) baby in his arms.

“The doctor isn’t the one changing his diapers,” you refute with a frown.

“He’ll be just fine, Darlin’. Sarah…” he mutters quietly, and you know when you hear that name leave his lips, you’re about to hear something very meaningful to him. “She caught bugs like this all the time when she was this age. The little ones… they’re just more susceptible to it. But they get over it quick. Just like the doctor said Ollie would.”

“I know,” you sigh and nod, knowing Joel’s right. You know how scared he was at the thought of you going through pregnancy and giving birth in this world, and you also know he’s experienced this all before, so he has much knowledge - and trauma - from his past. You take every word that he shares with you like it’s precious treasure.

“Then try your best not to worry yourself too much for me, hm, Darlin’?” he reaches over to caress your cheek.

“I just can’t help but think about how miserable he must feel. Not being able to explicitly tell us how he’s feeling,” you explain, resting your head on Joel’s shoulder to peer down at your son in his broad arms.

“You mean you don’t speak fluent eight-month-old screams?” he teases in a quiet voice, finally getting you to smile. “He’s just gotta get this through his system. This happens to every baby ever. And Oliver Thomas Miller is a tough one. He takes after you, Mama.”

“Takes after both of us,” you continue smiling as Joel leans in to delicately kiss you. “Now put him back in his crib before he wakes up again,” you chuckle silently after pulling away.

Joel smoothly gets out of bed and places Oliver back into his crib where his gentle baby-snores continue before stalking back to your shared bed and slinking under the covers with you. And it’s not long before sleep takes over both of you exhausted parents.

The next morning is the first in a while that you don’t wake up to your crying son, or the movement of Joel getting out of bed before sunrise to leave for patrol. Instead, your eyes open to your husband, fluffy hair still mussed from the night and eyes still soft and sleepy. He’s holding your giggly, smiley son just over your face.

“Say, good mornin’, Mama,” Joel greets playfully in the voice he uses to speak to your son, and Oliver rests his little hand on your cheek.

“Good morning, baby,” you chuckle lightly, kissing his tiny hand.

“Say, I’m hungry, Mama,” Joel continues his antics, letting Oliver smoosh his face into yours with an incoherent gurgle.

“How about breakfast then, hm boys?” you crack a smile, sitting up in bed and grabbing your son from your husband.

“Good morning, Mama,” Joel then says in his normal voice, leaning over to kiss you sweetly.

“Good morning, you goof,” you smile into his lips, then pull apart slowly to get out of bed.

The three of you trudge sleepily down the stairs and into the kitchen where Joel takes Oliver back from you and slides him into his highchair. You start to make breakfast and Joel works on getting something in Oliver’s tummy.

Joel grabs a banana and peels it slowly in front of Oliver while talking to him, his big brown eyes watching his father’s every move. Joel lets Oliver gnaw on the chilled fruit to sooth the single bottom tooth that’s beginning to cut. He’s holding it for Oliver and his little hand is wrapped around his father’s in the cutest way, but Joel just can’t stop chuckling at the mess he’s making.

“What are you doing?” you ask, looking over your shoulder to see Joel’s cheeks flushed pink with amusement as his son drools all over his hand.

“He really likes his banana,” Joel laughs, bouncing the baby on his knee.

“I’m glad he’s eating,” you smile.

“He’s probably over the bug already,” Joel points out, and seeing the way Oliver’s eating so well and how his cheeks are back to their usual shade, you think you agree with him.

A few minutes later, you’re serving breakfast for you and Joel, but a little certain someone starts to fuss in his high chair, probably wanting to sit in yours or Joel’s lap while you eat. Joel scoops up the baby and sets him in his lap, and Oliver’s little hand immediately reaches into the food on Joel’s plate.

“I can take him if you want,” you chuckle.

“It’s okay. You need to eat,” he assures you with a smile “Besides, you wanna sit with Papa, don’t you, Buddy?” he coos to Oliver. He gurgles and shoves some of his dad’s scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Yep. He’s definitely over the bug,” you nod and giggle, watching the two lights of your life laugh uncontrollably at each other.

a/n: okay so this request was from months ago and I'm so sorry it's taken so long for me to get it out! this used to be two different rpf fics for someone i no longer write for, but i loved revisiting and editing them to make it into a joel fic 💘 dividers by @inklore

thank you so much for reading! reblogs and feedback are so greatly appreciated and help out your fave writers more than you know 💘

Pedro taglist below, link in pinned post to be added :)

@pedropascalmylove @caplanbuckybarnes @auberosier @shesaidashamed @midgardianminx @hungrhay @mashomasho @fanofverymanythings @laufeyzlut @gvfslayallday @pastelnap @blub-senpai @alwaysdjarin @jesslove23-blog @balekanemohafe @alexxavicry @cilliansangel @spideysimpossiblegirl @anony-muse @darleneslane @nsuiswitch @joeldjarin

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal

968 notes · View notes

specialagentlokitty · 3 months

Text

Rick Grimes x reader - so perfect

Hello👋👋 Rick fluff where he comes home and just sees reader hanging out with the kids. And he just stops and watches them, thinking how lucky he is to have her. Please and thank you. Love your work btw❤❤❤. - @hoodiepandaninja16 💜

Holding Judith in your arms, you looked at Carl as he threw a tennis ball against the side of the house, catching it in his hand to throw it again.

“Carl?”

He looked over, stopping what he was doing.

“If you keep throwing that at all wall, you’re gonna break a hole in it eventually.”

He chuckled a little, looking at the tennis ball.

“Sorry, guess I got lost thinking.”

“Hey, not me you need to be sorry too, that poor house has been getting beat on for at least an hour.”

He laughed again, walking over to you, letting you place a hand on his head, and he rested his head on your shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You asked quietly.

He sighed a little bit, offering you nothing more than just a shrug.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just thinking about a lot of stuff you know? Sometimes it’s hard not to when it’s all you can do.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah.”

You nodded, letting him move away from you and over to the front of the house where he sat down, so you did the same.

Placing Judith on the porch next to you, and Carl handed her his tennis ball.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do you know I’ll listen.”

“Thanks (Y/N).”

You smiled at him, and you leant back on your hands, looking at the skies that were threatening to downpour at any moment.

It was still sunny, but the clouds were rolling in quickly, and given the thunder that was in the distance it would be here soon.

“Do you think dad will make it back before the storm hits?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“You really don’t lie don’t you? Could’ve at least tried to lie for me.” Carl mocked.

You laughed a little, grinning down at him.

“Nope, what’s the point. The truth will come out eventually, whether you want it to or not, by lying your just wasting your own time.”

“Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Carl nodded his head, he believed you.

Judith rolled the ball and you caught it before it went down the steps, rolled it gently back over to you and she giggled.

She pushed it back, so you once again pushed it back.

“Can you go through my bag and find my deck of cards?” You asked.

“Yeah, why?” Carl asked back.

“We’re gonna be stuck inside soon, May as well find some way to pass the time.”

You did try to keep them outside for as long as possible, but when it started to rain you decided to bring them inside.

Carl was insistent that he wanted to wait by the gate, but you wouldn’t let him.

So, you all sat on the floor of the living room, music coming from the stereo that you had put on.

Judith sat in your lap, and you tried teaching Carl how to play poker.

“Seriously, how is this in any way helpful?”

“It’s not, it’s just fun as hell.”

He grinned a little at you.

“Dad’s gonna hate you trying to teach me this, you know that right?”

“I could teach you how to throw them.”

“Like throwing stars?”

You nodded and he immediately sat up.

“Hell yes.”

“Hey, language. I’m an adult you’re not, your dad will kick my ass if he finds out.”

“Our secret?” Carl grinned.

You hummed, thinking for a moment as you studied with narrowed eyes.

“I used to cheat at poker in Las Vegas and was was banned from returning.”

“What?”

“You tell your dad that I’ll tell him you swear when he’s not around.”

You held your hand out and Carl grinned, shaking your hand.

“Deal.”

You let go, and you picked up one of the play cards, looking at the apple you had set on the table not long before.

Aiming, you threw the card, it curved a little in the air but lodged itself into the apple.

“Holy shit…”

“Hey! Just because I said I wouldn’t tell doesn’t mean you can keep doing it!”

“Show me again.”

While Judith slept on the couch you taught Carl some of the tricks of the trade you had learnt over time.

Carl was pretty quick with picking some of them up, others not so much, but the card throwing was his new favourite.

You had ran out of apples to throw them at, so you went to throwing them into his hat instead.

“Where did you learn this?”

“I spent a lot of time in Vegas kid, you pick up a lot of things in a place like that.”

“Did you have a gambling problem or something?”

You rolled your eyes.

“No, I was a professional gambler. Well, fraudster I guess, we worked as a team, taking casinos for all they were worth, using all the tricks, same with street hustling.”

“So, just a petty criminal then.”

“Ouch, petty? I’ll have you know I was wanted in over half the states for this shit.”

“And… you’re with my dad, who’s a cop?”

“Yeah that crap doesn’t matter now, what’s he gonna do, arrest me?”

“Yeah you’ve got a point.”

You handed him a couple more cards, looking to Edith as she moved.

Getting up, you held your arms out to her and picked her up, holding her in one arm as you slapped the card Carl threw back at him.

“I’m going to feed her, you want anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll help.”

You guys made dinner, setting a plate aside for Rick, just in case he came back that night.

While Carl spent time with his sister you washed up and made your way back inside to see him dancing around the living room with her.

“You call that dancing?”

You laughed a little, and you swept Judith into your arms.

“First, it’s always gentlemanly to bow.”

You did a small bow, and he did the same thing, and then you held your palm out to him.

“Put your palm on mine.”

He did, and you began teaching him the steps to a simple dance you had learned a long time ago.

Because of the thunder, you didn’t hear the door opening, and Rick stood against doorway, crossing his arms as he watched the tree of you.

Judith was giggling each time you turned around.

“Where did you learn to dance like this?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I actually did drama when I was your age? Specialised in Shakespeare.”

“So… like a million years ago?”

“Ouch, okay, you know what Carl Grimes, I thought we were friends, but we’re not.”

He laughed, and you heard a laugh from behind you.

Both of you turned over and he walked over to his dad.

You walked over, handing Rick his daughter back and you smiled at him, gesturing to the kitchen.

“Food ready for you, just need to heat it up.”

“Thanks, I’ll get her to bed then I will.”

“I’ll heat it, you do what you have to do.” You smiled.

Rick went upstairs with Carl, and you went into the kitchen to heat up his dinner for him.

While he was up there he grabbed a shower, changing into some fresh clothes while you were setting his plate on the table.

He came back downstairs, and you were cleaning the kitchen, humming a little to yourself.

He sat down, his chin resting on his hand as he just watched you.

This whole time since the prison you had been with him, you had helped him, supported him, never questioning any of the choices he made.

You had complete faith in him, and here you were, looking after his children for him even though you didn’t have too.

After everything he had done, Rick wasn’t sure how he still had somebody like you.

He had no clue what he did to even deserve somebody like you.

Yet here you were, standing right in front of him, as if the whole world was perfect, and in that moment he could have sworn it was.

“Teach me that dance.”

You turned around, looking at him, then the food he hadn’t touched.

“Eat, then asked again.”

He chuckled, quickly eating his dinner, washing up after himself and he walked into the living room where you were sat.

“Now will you teach me the dance?”

You smiled, getting up.

“First, the gentleman thing to do is bow.”

You bowed, snd he copied you.

You held up your hand, and he placed his palm over yours.

Whatever move you made he did the same thing, his eyes locked with yours as you both slowly danced.

This was it, this was perfect, his eyes focused on yours, everything else seeming nothing but background noise.

Rick slowly moved his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and he smiled softly, warm eyes focused on yours.

He held a nervous breath as he watched you, and you smiled softly back, copying him

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead imagine #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #Rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes imagine

485 notes · View notes