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#for the love of god freeze dry this man

gracieheartspedro · 6 months

Text

Who We Are

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.

word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.

author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!

“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors.

You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses.

“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age.

Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.

“Well good, keeps you busy.”

You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.

Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare.

You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes.

Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice.

“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”

His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself. You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response.

“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily.

You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed.

When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained.

“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm.

“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.

“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”

Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”

Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds.

So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long.

You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired.

You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually.

Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink.

“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man.

You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one.

When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.

But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough.

“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”

You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms.

“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head.

“Just weak.”

Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older.

When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief.

“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”

She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”

“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly.

Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment.

She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed.

“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods.

“Always is, kiddo.”

The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some.

It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics.

But for now, you should get some rest.

Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts.

You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have.

You need to remind the council of all your father does.

You need him to get better.

You need him.

“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce.

You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”

Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer.

“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”

“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”

“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”

Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death.

“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”

Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family.

“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”

You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?”

You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either.

“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”

“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms.

“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”

“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side.

Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”

Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital.

You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller.

He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”

Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”

He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him.

It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.

“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.

He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”

You didn’t even think that far.

“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”

You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face.

“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question.

“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”

“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”

Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more.

As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime.

He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands.

You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time.

Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile.

“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”

“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”

You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.

“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”

It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”

His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you.

“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”

“Roger that, kiddo.”

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls.

He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse.

“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”

Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun.

Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.

You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company.

Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson.

“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”

He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt.

“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”

“How is Ellie doing?”

You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage.

He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”

You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot.

“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”

Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him.

“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”

You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were.

“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”

He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”

You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits.

Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy.

“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”

But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself.

The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in.

You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice.

“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit.

Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”

That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious.

He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes.

“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud.

He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”

You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now.

“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”

You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish.

“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”

You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”

You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake.

“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.

“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse.

He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward.

You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof.

“Is this yours?”

He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”

You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you.

You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings.

That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it.

“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”

How could you ever say no to an offer like that?

You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”

Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.

He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away.

When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view.

“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”

He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure.

“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”

You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time.

“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”

He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you.

You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”

He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that.

“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”

You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face.

He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable.

“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”

You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”

You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours.

“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire.

“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”

You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”

You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it.

You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually.

Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man.

Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls.

After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember.

He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing.

You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there.

He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you.

The second day starts off a bit rough.

When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.

You are panting like you just ran a mile.

“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”

“You were sleeping!”

“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked.

You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”

He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”

After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller.

You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life.

When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind.

When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia.

“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say.

You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you.

He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly.

“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him.

“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”

“I cannot wait.”

The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame.

“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”

He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket.

He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day.

He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds.

He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?

He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.

“You okay, Joel?”

You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city.

“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”

You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep.

You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him.

You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion.

Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him.

“Can I help you?”

You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”

“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”

You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses.

Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night.

“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”

The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances.

Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much.

“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”

“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now.

“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”

“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”

You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”

He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.

He wanted to keep looking.

“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind.

You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy.

“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”

Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard.

“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”

You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”

You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit.

You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask.

“When was the last time you were here?”

He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions.

“Over a year ago.”

You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”

You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.

“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?

It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew.

You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”

“Who?”

“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense.

“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital.

You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you.

You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town.

You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him.

Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward.

“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up.

You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”

“What do ya’ mean?”

You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same.

“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”

He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”

The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him.

“Right, of course.”

When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run.

You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding.

To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side.

You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety.

“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”

You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack.

“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back.

You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read.

levofloxacin

amoxicillin

“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”

He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”

You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through.

You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”

“Yeah, right behind you.”

Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie.

You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything.

Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it.

It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials.

You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room.

“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”

You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it.

“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”

Then you hear it.

Click. Click. Click.

Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him.

Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern.

You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body.

She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire.

You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came.

You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City.

“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum.

You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing.

You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step.

“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”

You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods.

When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body.

“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”

You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip.

He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you.

“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you.

“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully.

“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”

He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”

“Why not?”

Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything.

Right?

“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”

You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”

It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat.

When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind.

You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire.

You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel.

When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you.

“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice.

“You all clean?”

You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”

He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”

“Use mine.”

Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”

“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”

He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”

You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body.

“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”

He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”

Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in.

He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”

Joel can not do this.

You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?

You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked.

Why were you doing this to yourself?

Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”

He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again.

“We can’t.”

You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”

You two know better. You know better. You know better.

You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better.

It’s almost like you two silently made the decision.

“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him.

Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”

His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel.

He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this.

“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”

He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”

It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation.

But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window.

This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste.

He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit.

“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”

It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.

“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”

He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted.

As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away.

“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap.

“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”

He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment.

“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”

You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want.

You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth.

When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big.

“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas.

Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips.

“Joel, what are you doing?”

You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”

Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out.

You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does.

When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows.

“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him.

When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair.

“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance.

“Joel, please.”

He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”

You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious.

“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears.

“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”

When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him.

“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more.

You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach.

“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”

Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.

“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”

The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive.

As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.

The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm.

“Yes, Joel!”

His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over.

The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach.

“Shit.”

You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky.

“I came inside you.”

You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”

He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that.

Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess.

You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button.

Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess.

“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air.

“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”

You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin.

When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you.

You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open.

Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors.

“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”

All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”

“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”

You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you.

“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”

He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you.

“Yeah, we are all set.”

Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him.

He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend.

“We have to get home,” Is all he says.

And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again.

You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself.

Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky.

The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest.

You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home.

“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”

He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you.

“What do you mean?”

You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks.

“Tell them what?”

He has to be messing, right? You think.

But no, he’s deadly serious.

“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together.

“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”

If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”

“No, it’s not like that-”

“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”

When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life.

You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already.

The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father.

A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive.

When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week.

“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”

You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter.

“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”

You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel.

“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid.

You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit.

Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables.

As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you.

Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked.

“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”

“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”

“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”

“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”

“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”

He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it.

“You won’t what, Joel?”

He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud.

“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about.

“What?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then.

“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”

Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”

“Joel-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”

Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal.

You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home.

For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong.

You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door.

“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”

She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”

Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”

Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly.

“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it.

Joel stands there, your bags in his hands.

You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially.

“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”

“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”

Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up.

You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left.

“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle.

It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom.

He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all.

“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys.

The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray.

“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”

You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one.

“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”

“Baby-”

“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”

Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions.

“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”

He can’t let you make this mistake.

But you’re not easing up.

“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want.

“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”

You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you.

Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you.

You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him.

“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy.

“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”

Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips.

You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.

“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips.

When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”

The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice.

“Yeah?”

You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door.

“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”

Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question.

“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”

“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit.

The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby.

Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him.

“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages.

“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”

“Dad-“

“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”

You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air.

“Sorry?”

Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought.

Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”

“Dad, he’s not dum-“

“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”

You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets.

You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?

Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him.

He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads.

“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“

“I’m a dead man.”

Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly.

“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”

You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”

Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face.

You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this.

And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for.

“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief.

You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles.

“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.

THE END

or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:

No One Fucks With My Baby

#joel miller fic #joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x fem reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel last of us smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #post outbreak joel #dbf joel #dbf joel miller #gracieheartspedro #fic: who we are

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little-diable · 4 months

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All to myself - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)

Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta

Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)

She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed.

“I’ll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I won’t accept any tardiness.” Professor Riddle’s voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity they’d have to worship. “If you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.”

(Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldn’t stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare.

“I’ll see you next week.” With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk.

“Did you find the pages, (y/n)?” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one another’s touch.

Well, perhaps it wasn’t about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out.

“Good, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next week’s class.”

……

“Thank you so much for your help, (y/n).” A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddle’s office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman.

“Of course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.” She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils.

“Why the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Don’t you find it weird how he treats you? As if you’re some toy he owns.” Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the man’s grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks she’d have to cover for the next days.

“Let me go, please.” The student’s laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)’s frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).

“If I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?” No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope.

“How did you find me?” (Y/n)’s whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)’s body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps.

“It’s not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I don’t share what is mine, and especially not you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. “You’re mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.”

“I won’t. I am sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing “Prove how sorry you are” left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements.

(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his.

“Atta, girl, such a perfect mouth.” Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddle’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth – sounds she’d think of whenever her thoughts started to wander.

“C’mon, you can take a bit more, don’t hold back, pet.” (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain he’d never wipe away. She wasn’t used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.

She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldn’t fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.

“Such a messy whore for your professor, look at the way you’re dripping.” His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them.

He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.

His toy, his pet, his woman.

Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasn’t about taking their time, about cherishing one another’s closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness.

“Please, oh please, professor.” A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “Please let me cum, oh god, please.”

“Cum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.” His name rolled off (y/n)’s tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.

“You’re mine to touch, mine only, don’t you ever forget that, (y/n).”

#Tom Riddle smut #Tom Riddle imagine #Tom Riddle x reader #prof fic #Harry Potter smut

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bitbugbites-cod · 3 months

Text

𝙹𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜, 𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 | 𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

Ghost's car sucks -- always breaking down at the worst times. This time, it broke down on Valentine's Day -- right as you were about to leave the house.

ao3 link

word count: ~1.3k

gender: fem! reader

cw: (light) ANGST, FLUFF // arguing lol

a/n: this was going to be longer and include smut, but I'm tired and going to bed so I might make a part two and post it tmr -- but who knows!

p.s. -- screw valentine's day i HATE being single

You said nothing. He said nothing. The two of you just sat.

You shifted in your seat, the leathery seat of the car sticking to your wet thigh, begging it to stay where it was placed. You didn’t comply.

The man next to you in the driver’s seat, Simon, tapped the wheel, his chest puffing up, then down, with a repressed sigh. It annoyed you the way he never had anything to say – and it annoyed you even more the way he looked so fucking good while doing it.

It was a loud sigh, though. You were surprised you were even able to hear it – rain was thundering down, making loud thunks as it collided with the tinted glass that shielded you from the weather outside of Simon’s Jeep. Which, to note, is a busted-up, no-good piece of junk. It was originally a 2013 Wrangler model that he bought used, and no matter how many times it broke down, he always refused to buy a new car. You can’t begin to count how many times you’ve watched him grumble about it making a funny noise or not starting up before rolling up his sleeves and putting himself under the hood.

He never understood why you hated it so much – and to be honest, you didn’t either. Your closest hypothesis was that you were sick of finding oil stains on all of his clothes – or that you were tired of trying to go on dates, only to find that his car had broken down. Once again.

This was the case for tonight, at least.

Finally, he spoke, his voice sounding a dry kind of deep. It was what attracted you to him in the first place, but right now, you swore it was the most aggravating sound on earth.

“Another night, then, ‘love.”

Your heart dropped in your chest, your eyes hardening as your emotions bubbled. You felt so angry, so sad, you couldn’t speak. You could barely even breathe.

“Another night?” you repeated, a scoff threatening to escape your throat.

He paused for a moment, before speaking again. “What do you want me to–”

“It’s fucking Valentine’s Day, Simon.”

He let out a frustrated laugh, his calloused hands slapping against the wheel. “Fuckin’ hell, I know that–”

“Great. You know that. So then you should also know that ‘another night’ is–”

“What do you want me to do? ‘Huh? What should I do, ‘love? get out the car, pick you up ‘an carry you to the bloody place m’self?”

Adrenaline shot through your body, your blood racing through your veins as your eyes began to water. All you wanted was to go out for Valentine’s Day. To feel cared about. To know he loves you.

Grabbing the car door handle, you thrust the door open. The rain got louder, and without skipping a beat, you threw yourself out into the cold, wet atmosphere, slamming the door shut. You heard him yell after you, but you didn’t stop. You pulled your jacket closer to your body, trying not to slip as your heels collided with the slippery concrete. You were going back to the house, inside, where you would foreseeably spend the rest of the night in bed, sobbing, with him on the couch.

You fucking hated this. You hated how disappointing this was. How disappointed you were.

As you reached the front door of your shared home, you held the freezing key in hand, shaking as you attempted to unlock the lock. You regretted dressing up for tonight, wishing you spent your time on anything else instead. Anything.

You heard another Jeep door slam shut, small sloshes of puddles being brutally murdered by aggressive stomps, and you knew Simon and his stupid, heavy-ass boots were making their way toward you.

God, him and his walk. Even that was driving you up the wall now.

“Y/N.” his voice boomed, fighting the thick, infuriating volume of the rain.

Believing in communication, you ignored him again.

Nothing good would come from your mouth right now, and god forbid you opened it, he would learn so many new things about himself.

You would save it for later – when you didn’t want to verbally rip him limb by limb.

But then you felt his drenched hand on your shoulder, droplets of water flowing down your jacket sleeve.

“Y/N,” he repeated, and suddenly, something inside you snapped.

You started to speak, anger coating your words, but you weren’t able to finish. “The ‘fuck do you want, Simo–”

Within a millisecond, you watched him lean over, scoop you up by the legs, and start carrying you bridal style down the street.

You paused, saying nothing as he carried you. He said nothing, too. The both of you said nothing together.

It was like something had reset in your brain – you went from being angry, to confused, to shocked. You had no idea what he was doing, no idea what he was thinking. Hell, you had no idea what you were even thinking – you were so taken aback, that you weren’t even sure you had any thoughts left in your head. Which, is a miracle, considering how many new adjectives you came up with about two minutes prior, for this situation alone.

You felt the rain soak your skin and outfit, some of it landing on Simon first, sliding down his broad, suited shoulders before coating you. His walk was rough and rugged, you bouncing slightly in his arms as he moved the two of you down the sidewalk. Despite how angry you were a couple of minutes ago, you were being calmed by the second just feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the pumping of his heartbeat, the sound of his breathing.

“Simon?” you spoke, sounding cautious.

He said nothing, only looking down, his brown eyes meeting yours as his wet, blonde hair messily stuck to his forehead in small strands. He looked as dead on the inside as usual, but there was something about his stare this time, that let you know he was sorry. It was almost sheepish, in an intimidating way.

He is a confusing man.

Nonetheless, you went on with what you wanted to ask. “What…are you doing?”

“I’m walkin’ us to the date.” he said in a gruff, matter-of-fact way.

…

Silence passed between the two of you once more, before you started to crack a small smile, softly laughing at the man’s resolve to solve the problem.

“I don’t think we’re ‘gonna make it there in time, ‘Monnie.” you said, playing along.

“I said another night, did’n I? We’re gonna get there – ‘just another night.” he quipped.

You hid your face in your hands, trying to hold back your amusement. It was safe to say that you weren’t angry anymore, at least.

“We’re ‘gonna get hypothermia by then, I think, love?” you replied.

You watched him grin a little, his head moving back up to watch the area in front of him as he walked. “We’ll make a stop at the clinic after, then.”

You laughed, sighed, then laughed again thinking about the stupidity of the situation you were in right now. Simon laughed a little, too.

You started slapping his soaked dress shirt playfully, listening as it made a squelching noise before speaking. “Alright, alright, can we have the date at home instead so that we can skip the whole hospitalization part?”

“I suppose.” Simon replied lightheartedly before slowing to a stop, glancing down at you, changing directions, and walking back towards the direction of the house.

A grin was stuck on your face as the two of you passed by the glowing streetlamps and houses, all while the rain continued to pour down. Suddenly, you weren’t feeling as cold anymore, either – you were glad to be in Simon’s arms.

“You make things really fucking complicated, you know?”

“I know,” he answered.

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ghosts-cant-sleep · 5 days

Note

Heeeeyyy, never requested anything but i think i'll give it a shot because i really like the way you write! You're really talented :]

Mayhaps a simon "ghost" riley x male reader? Reader is very provocative and loves getting reactions out of people, no matter if they are amused chuckles or annoyed groans. BUT Ghost is a brick wall and reader sees it as a challenge? Im sure your beautidul mind will come up with something interesting!

May i have the "🦇" as my anon emoji? (If its not taken of course!)

Thanksss, have an amazing day/night!

you can whistle for it

simon 'ghost' riley x male! reader

warnings: idk how spotting works im just basing it off of that one american sniper scene kinda, suggestive innuendos, stupid jokes, not proofread,

notes: i love specific anons sm :3 yall r so cute :3 ofc u can have 🦇 :3 lysm :3

fem dni.

"Y'know, Lieutenant, I've been thinking-"

"I doubt that."

"-You, me, alone under the stars... It's pretty romantic, don't'cha think?"

"No."

A heavy sigh pushes past [Name]'s lips, hia breath blooming into a faint mist of white, fading into the deep blues of the sky hanging high above them.

The snow crunches bellow his elbows with every breath, laying thick over the plantlife. Frost coated the leaves that shrouded the pair, snowfall left the branches bending under the weight, there wasn't even a peep from the local fauna.

And oh god, what he wouldn't give to be warm like them, huddled in a burrow, coat all he'd need to keep warm. Instead, he was left in thick, stiff winter gear, the cruel wind biting at the tip of his nose in spite of the fleece-lined gaiter.

Hell, he was surprised his rifle wasn't crusted in ice.

He wasn't surprised, however, to deduce that the poor weather seemed to reflect on his lieutenant's mood, as if being stuck on overwatch for hours on end wasn't bad enough.

[Name] laid with his cheek resting on the stock of his gun, index finger lazily tapping against the trigger gaurd to some unrecognized rhythm.

And Ghost was right beside him, nearly hyper focused on spotted. Each had their eyes trained on their respective scopes, and both were miserable.

Aching backs, necks swiftly growing sore, eye's dry, lips cracking, and faces all kn all feeling like they'd be ready to freeze off any moment now. And that's not even mentioning that this was the fourth time Ghost had essentially requested [Name] shut his mouth in the past thirty minutes they'd been in the field, which was frustrating enough for both of them.

And excuse him for not wanting to waste his night sulking in silence, but making the best out of a less than steller situation didn't seem to be something Ghost was capable of.

It was charming, in its own annoying little way-- the relentless chatter and constant quips and jokes, even if they sometimes boarded on ridiculously unprofessional. Whether it be an annoyed groan, a flustered chuckle, or a reluctant smile masked with a roll of their eyes, his little antics never failed to coax out some reaction.

Almost never.

And in all honesty, this self inflicted, fruitless journey to get so much as a scoff out of Ghost wasn't even the point anymore. Sure, to be met with anything other than stubborn apathy would be a breath of fresh air, not to mention satisfying after so long of any and all jokes, swipes, and thinly veiled innuendo being shut down with little remorse would be a delight. But now? [Name] just wanted something to distract himself from the cold that clung to his skin.

So, as always, to Ghost's dismay, he gives it another go.

Dispite himself, another sigh is huffed out. He glances over to Ghost, the sight of something other than his reticle feeling foreign.

"So..." He starts, situating his sights back to his scope. "You got a girlfriend or anything?"

He found the idea a little funny. The image of this big, stoic man holding hands or otherwise being sweet on some pretty little lady.

There's a stretch of silence, expectantly so, and [Name]'s already racking his brain for something-- anything, to say next.

"No."

The low rumble of Ghost's voice takes him by surprise, but it'd be foolish to dwell on it long. An answer's an answer.

"Figured," [Name] mutters out, adjusting the grip on his gun, rolling out shoulders in an attempt to ease the discomfort that's begun to festerbetweenhia shoulder blades. "Does that mean you're up for grabs then?"

Only the whistle of wind responds this time.

"I'll take that as a maybe." He might as well have been aimlessly talking to himself. Hell, that would've been more entertaining than this.

"Y'know, I'm sure deep down you do think I'm funny." Told you; relentless. Still, despite the smile hidden behind his mask and the slightly forced crinkle in his eye, [Name] couldn't quite hide the irritation growing thick in his own throat.

"I think you're a distraction," Ghost is swift to correct, his balaclava doing little to hide the annoyance in his tone. "A liability if you're not careful, so do shut up."

[Name] can't help but shake his head, a sharp huff pulling from his throat. Sure Ghost was his superior, and by no means were they supposed to be all buddy-buddy with one another. But jesus fucking christ, would it hurt to crack smile. Hell, even Price offers a pitty laugh on the rare occasion.

"It wouldn't kill you to have some damn fun one in a while." The words leave his mouth before his can think better of it, tounge sharp.

"It might," Ghost is quick to retort with just as much bite. For the first time since they settled down, his eyes leave the spotter, sending a well received warning glare [Name]'s way. "Give it a rest, yeah?"

Be it the weather, the job, a wave of bravery, or simply just [Name]'s long overdue annoyance reaching its peak, he, in fact, does not give it a rest.

"It's like you're scared of saying something interesting for once."

"Maybe I'll let you chew on some lead to shut you up. That interesting enough?"

"Christ."

Every stretch on silence is near unbearable. It feels like even the wind still in these moments. [Name] would prefer a constant flood of berating and hardly enjoyable banter from Ghost far more than this.

The tension of the moment breifly lingers before it disapates just as swiftly as it had arrived, the tension in [Name]'s chest easing. He lets out a soft breath, his grip adjusts, his elbows sink furth into the snow.

"Well-" Ghost interjects with gruff sigh, "-Soap told me you like jokes."

"Did he, now?"

"Where do generals keep their armies?"

"Up their sleevies."

"God dammit, Ghost."

[Name] purses his lips, effectively splitting it down the center, the heat from the sting made all the worse by the every present chill. He had more pressing matters to worry about. "Why do snipers aim with one eye closed?"

"Sergeant."

"Humor me-- just this once, and I swear I'll shut up for the rest of the night." An obvious lie. However, Ghost doesn't try to correct it. "...Why do snipers aim with one eye closed?"

"...Why?"

"If they closed both, they wouldn't be able to see."

Yet another discontent sigh leaves Ghost's mouth. But, [Name] could've sworn he almost heard a smile forcing its way onto Ghost's face as he spoke. "Now are you done?"

[Name]s response isn't instantaneous. His head lifts from the small of the stock, gaze leaving the scope and finding Ghost beside him.

Ghost was still, near statuesque if it weren't for the soft puffs of breath that seeped through the thick knit of his mask. [Name] knew Ghost liked being behind the trigger more than anything, but he was sure Ghost's ego swelled, even if just a tad, over being the one chosen to spot instead.

Only when Ghost's eyes meet [Name]'s does he retreat back to his scope. Still, he let's his stiff face pull into a grin. "Say whatever you want, but I think I am starting to get to you, Lieutenant."

"Oh, piss off." This time, he hears Ghost shift around in place, a tired groan accompaning the shifting of snow beneath him. "Just quiet down before I show you how to put that mouth of yours to good use for once."

"Awe, c'mon now, you-- huh?"

#sitting in the back of a pizza hut writing fanfiction is maybe a little loser coded #that being said tumblr mobile is the devil #cod x male reader #cod x reader #ghost x male reader #mw2 x reader #x male reader #mw2 x male reader #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #male reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon riley x male reader

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kissitbttr · 4 months

Note

imagine reader going to the frat house kitchen during midnight for some water and bumping into Gloria

you wake up feeling quite thirsty, and fuck. you always hate it when that happens because you prioritize a good quality of sleep.

looking over beside you, it makes your heart swell. seeing miguel sleeping peacefully with soft snores coming out of his mouth and his arm around you. always the big spoon.

slowly, you pry yourself from miguel’s embrace, earning a light groan from him but you manage to slip past easily after.

grabbing his bengals t-shirt off the floor, you quickly put it on to cover your half naked body. getting up after and tip toe towards the door and head down to the kitchen to grab a glass of water,

you stop dead track in your movement when you hear the sound of glasses clinking from the kitchen. frowning to yourself thinking that it’s one of miguel’s frat brothers, but you pay no mind to it since you’re not entirely naked. his t-shirt is large enough to make a dress out of you.

expecting to see a half naked man with rippling muscles, yet you are facing the back of a more feminine looking. sitting near the counter with her hair down,

wait… she looks… familiar..?

“gloria?” you wide eyed as the girl freezes, turning around slowly to meet your eyes. failing to suppress the loud gasp coming from your lips. “oh my god?! what the fuck?! what are you doing here! what-what, huh?!”

“…hi, y/n” gloria nervously chuckle, putting her cereal bowl down and stand up,

your gaze fall down to the hoodie she’s wearing. and oh my, my, you definitely know who owns that piece of clothing,

“oh. my. god. YOU ARE FUCKING BECK?! AGAIN?!” you’re unaware of how loud you’re being until gloria hurries to your spot and hushes. “i can NOT believe this! girl, you told me you and him are over!”

“i know, i know, god! keep your voice down, por favor!” she begs, holding both of your arms,

“since when?!”

“…a month?” she answers,

“and what, strictly fucking or are you both dating?”

“babe you and i both know i can’t commit for shit” gloria rolls her eyes. “simply for fun”

“and he’s okay with that?”

“oh definitely…” but then she looks up as if she’s thinking. “or.. at least i think so..”

“wow” you breathe out, arms crossed over your chest. “how come i didn’t know about this? why didn’t you tell me?”

“well miguel knows. I assumed he would’ve told you”

no he didn’t?!

“he knows?! that mother fucker—“ you take a deep breath. “why did you tell him and not me? your best friend!”

“i didn’t! beck must’ve! we agreed to keep it low for a while. i don’t want anyone to find out, especially you” she pouts. “are you mad?”

“not mad that you two are fucking but you lied to me” you frown, seeing her smile falters a bit. “but I’ll let this slide”

she squeals, hugging you tight before kissing your lips. “love you babes… what are you doing up, anyway?”

“thirsty. throat dry as shit”

“you know i heard too much of a deep throat could—“

“yeah yeah got it” you stop her before she can finish that sentence, chuckling at how blunt she could be. but hey, that’s why you two are best friends,

after getting your drink and talk to her for a few, the two of you say goodnight to each other before going to each boy’s room. walking into miguel’s room, you assume that he’s still sleeping like a baby but instead you see him wide awake, hands behind his head. broad and naked chest are exposed to you,

“you scared the shit out of me, muñeca. I thought you had left or something” he pouts, making grabby hands at you. “come ‘ere pweaaase”

usually, you would give in. because he looks so adorable doing that thing to you, however you take him by surprise the moment you chuck the nearest pillow at him. giving him a glare,

“what the—what was that for?!”

“you knew beck and gloria are back together and you didn’t tell me?!”

he slowly removes the pillow from his face, putting it down slowly. “wait… she didn’t tell you?”

“no! she didn’t! and gloria told me you knew from her and you didn’t tell me! your girlfriend!”

“ah shit… okay beck told me not to tell anyone. that includes you. i’m sorry, querida” he scratches the back of his head. “plus, they both were practically all over each other at the last week’s party, babe. maybe you are too oblivious”

“you know what” you begin, crawling towards the bed and slide yourself in the covers. “because you chose to listen to beck and lied to me.. no titties for you for the next 24 hours. good night”

miguel panics. “what?! no no no, that’s not fair! muñeca! i cannot live without your boobies, i’m sorry! i won’t do it again i promise!”

#frat!miguel #miguel o’hara

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slashingdisneypasta · 27 days

Text

Human!Scar x Younger!Fem!Human!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Scar loves to rub your relationship in the rest of the prides faces since he knows it bothers them. He's a Brat, but you love him.

Warnings: Age difference relationship (/people around you disapproving of it) and a lot PDA. Also sexual references.

Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , @ryantryan6969 , and @thecourtofgraywaves .

As soon as you see Scar approaching the rest of the pride, you hop up from where you were resting, dozing, out in the warm sun and quickly meet him a few bounds away from the others- you know he's here for you, he never visits the pride for anything else. Immediately you greet him with a loving kiss to the cheek and a bright smile.

He mutters something intimate in your ear with a smirk while the other lionesses all watch, and you go hot under everyone's judgemental gazes. God damnit, old man, not these antics again!! You flash him a warning glare, but of course he doesn't care. "Scar, just once, can my boyfriend visit me and not make it a spectacle??"

"Oh, my dear, what's the fun in that??"

"Hello, Scar," Sarabi pipes up in a measured, joyless tone from behind you and you turn around to face your queen, out of respect. The rest of the lionesses refuse to even meet his gaze, but Sarabi's known Scar since they were kids- he's her brother-in-law after all- and she's just... classy. And kind. You like her for that, as well as her dry sense of humour, so you certainly done blame her for disliking him. So long as you can act hospitable, not make your distaste anyone's problem, then you can dislike whoever you want on as little grounds as you want, as far as you're concerned.

... the rest of these bitches, though... Your eyes darken a little, giving the gossipy judgy women all a frustrated, disappointed look as they all look mildly irritated just by Scar's presence. And his body stood so 'inappropriately' close to yours. They're just ridiculous.

When Scar's arm slips around your waist and rests there lazily, you give a surprised gasp; neck snapping so you can look at him. Seriously!?? Honestly, yes, you don't care what these old biddies think about you relationship- but m u s t h e make it so hard on Sarabi?? She's trying!

Yes, apparently, he must, says the mischievous lethargic grin on his handsome face. "Sarabi... you look lovely today. My, what a lucky brother I have."

Sarabi rolls her eyes almost all the way up into her skull, while you stand there quite awkwardly. Scar, shut up. "Scar, don't be brutish."

"Simply stating a fact, Sarabi. Anyway... " Scar's gaze falls on your head so close, and the next thing you know he's nuzzling you; making you freeze. You love it, you love Scar's touch, but r I G H T NOW!?? "Going on a hunt today, are you all?... "

"Did Y/N tell you that?" One of the other lionesses cuts in (Snaps); a very sharp tone in her voice that you don't like at all and causes you to glare daggers at her even as Scar completely lacks a responce to it. His arm around your waist does squeeze for a moment though, as if telling to calm down, now, I'm fine dear...

"I did." You respond shortly, instead, but leave it at that; turning fully into Scar now and letting him do whatever he wants. If they cant act cordial, then neither will you. He gives a devious smirk at your actions, and gently catches your chin between his thumb and his curled forefinger. His eyes bore into yours, so impossibly-venomously-prettily green, and as always you lose yourself in them.

"She did, and I'm just here to bid her goodbye for the afternoon~ So if you'll excuse us, thank you."

Instead of walking you away from the group though, despite his excuse, Scar merely removes his attention from them completely and he's all yours. God, he loves doing this, being intimate where the rest of the pride can see what he's doing. What he does to you. Every time he seems to take it a step further, too; getting more and more shameless in his old age as you've told him before.

Oh? 'Old'?? He'd asked, a look of mock offence on his face.

... practically ancient, you'd told him back; digging your hole in even deeper and smirking about it. Then he'd approached you, or prowled towards you more like, with that predatory look on his devastatingly striking face, raised your chin up, rubbed the tip of his nose roughly against yours, and then kissed you. Then you did some things that the ladies here would definitely drop their jaws over.

With the memory lingering in your mind, you give a quiet sigh; lowering your voice so only Scar can hear. "... you're here to say goodbye, huh?" You ask quietly, holding onto the sides of his clothing.

"Well, that's true. I am."

"Oh, you are a gentile suitor, huh?" You tease, sarcasm gently filling your whisper-voice even as Scar cups your face now; brushing his thumbs methodically across your cheeks and making you feel weak. With all this happening, you almost forget you're being watched by almost the entire pride sans Mufasa. "When'd that happen?"

"I assure you, my dear,.. " He comes in close to your face, so close your noses almost touch. "I'm still a rogue." He growls, then swoops in the rest of the way and presses a hot kiss to your mouth; making you feel a bit, embarrassingly, weak in the knees. Its a deep kiss, but not obscenely long in duration before he's pulling away, letting you go and strolling off. "Goodbye, have a good hunt."

You're left Kissed, warm all over and alone in front of the lionesses- the realisation that they were there that entire time crashing back over you all of a sudden. You give them an awkward smile and a waive, before returning swiftly to your spot among them and ducking your head down; pleased and embarrassed at once. Oh lord. Damnit Scar.

#(if i may add- sarabi doesnt like scar but she's happy for you XD #you seem to be happy and it keeps him out of trouble XD )#Scar #Disney Scar #Disney Scar x Reader Drabble #Scar x Reader Drabble #Disney Scar x Reader #Scar x Reader #Drabble #Disney Villains #Disney Villains x Reader

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rodolfoparras · 6 months

Note

YES YOU GET ME!!

And of course you can hear his noises, and you just know he needs help. You can just tell that the poor thing isn’t getting his needs me!! So with a promise for next time, you tell your bed partner to leave. And make your way to Price’s room.

Of course he stops and is all teary eyed, throwing on loose clothes and hiding his evidence. He tries to compose himself but he’s still so flushed and needy, eyes still a bit watery.

And of course you just coo at him and ask if he needs help. And at first he’s like shy as ever but is very much wanting. Turns out your rumored size isn’t as thick as you are, so you have to prep him just a bit more. And he’s staring at your cock, mouth watering and a bit nervous, but oh so excited he gets to finally be on the receiving end!

And when you finally slide home inside of him??? Being so sweet and gentle with him, but slowly going harder and deeper???!!!? He cannot help the noises he lets out, gripping your shoulders and leaving marks down your back. Loving the fact he finally knows what it’s like to be taken care of, to be stretched opened, and his body enjoying every second of your ministrations!!!

And if he isn’t walking right the next day, that’s his and yours business alone!

🐻‍❄️-

I’m genuinely rocking back and forth in excitement bc listen

When you first lean in for a kiss he freezes in place and you immediately back away, ready to up and leave if he wanted you to but turns out it’s not what he wants, because as soon as you put the offer on the table he’s grabbing ahold of your arms, eyes wide and words rushing off of his tongue,

he’s red faced, gaze fleeting and shifting in place as he tries to explain that he’d like for the two of you to shower first, for the both of you to shower together, he doesn’t say that it’s because you still smell of someone else, still taste of someone else, have traces of someone else all over your body and he needs to make sure it’s washed off before you touch him,

But there’s no need for words when you can see how much time he puts in to throughly wash your body before he suddenly pulls you in for a kiss, hands running along your back and placing kisses in whatever place he can reach

While in the shower you take time to prep him and even though he’s against it at first, wanting to rush into things like before, you promise to make him feel good, whispering the words into his skin before you turn him around and drop to your knees, fingers spreading his cheeks before you bury your tongue inside of him

And oh he’s never felt like this before he thinks to himself as he claws at the tile before him, hips bucking up into your face, and you almost chuckle at his eagerness but he can’t find it in himself to feel embarrassed and before he knows of it you have him tipping over the edge ropes of cum spurting all over the shower wall and all over himself

He’s exhausted panting so lost in bliss but you gently coax him out the shower, patting him dry before carrying him over to his bed

this time he actually feels embarrassed face turning red almost hiding his face in the crook of your neck because he’s a grown man for gods sake but he can’t help but love just how attentive you are with him as you gently lay him down onto the sheets

His recovery time isn’t like it used to be, and he makes sure to let you know, face as red as a tomato when he says the words, but you don’t mind it all, gently massaging his limbs, placing kisses all over his skin and before he knows of it his cock is once again hard and weeping between his legs

He cant even find it in himself to feel embarrassed when he finally straddles your waist, slowly but surely sinking down on your length. There are some sweet grunts and groans escaping his lips, eyes squeezed shut as his blunt nails dig into your skin, the words so so so good tumbling past his lips and before he knows of it he’s increasing in pace, swiftly inching closer to the edge, unable to even speak as ropes of cum spurt on both of your stomachs and even after the both of you finish, you keep your cock inside him and god if he doesn’t love it, feels safe and sound cradled in your warm embrace

#me and 🐻‍❄️ hugging rn #call of duty #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #top male reader #bottom male character #sub male character #dom male reader

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daddysuga101 · 1 year

Text

One day soon....

Suguru Geto x Fem reader

Warnings: Love fucking, breeding kink, Suguru is a bad guy, Readers first time, possesive behavior, Suguru and reader are both lowkey codependent

Red light runs over the expanse of your closed eye lid and you find yourself groaning at it's intrusion.

You blink your eyes open weakly to find you are no longer half dead on a battle field but now in a semi comfortable bed. You groan trying to sit up, it hurts.

Everything hurts, like god himself ran you over with a train 40 different times. You groan in pain when a jolt of a memory hits you harder than the ache your body has.

The memory of Suguru being there. You didn't think he'd be there. It felt too soon to see him. Sure you knew the odds of running into him or any of his people weren't zero but god you were thrown off guard when you saw him.

That lapse in logical thinking is how you ended up here, tired and bruised, all because of his men that did this to you.

Which is his fault by proxy.

Damn him.

Damn Surguru Geto.

"I didn't think you'd be awake yet.” A voice says freezing you where you are. “But you always were pretty resilient." Suguru says taking a seat next to you.

You stare at him wide eyed in shock that he was here. Fuck he was here. You weren't ready for this.

He wordlessly brings a water bottle to your lips urging you to drink. You didn't wanna drink, but your throat was so dry you had too. You release a shakey sigh as the cool liquid runs down your throat. Suguru watches you carefully seemingly ready to fetch you more water if need be.

"I'm fine." You say, your voice rather hoarse. He nods putting the water away on the night stand.

"It's good that you can talk. I was worried it’d be a minute before you could. That was quite the hit you took you know? Thought you died on me for a second." Suguru tried joked but there's no humor behind his words. You try to sit up on your elbows once again, your head throbbing as you did so.

"Would it matter? It'd be one less person in your way of global dominonation. Should've just killed me. Could have made your whole life a lot easier." You say dryly, bitterly. Surguru’s eyebrows furrow.

"Dont say something like that-."

"Where are we Suguru?" You asked seriously. He runs a hand through his hair.

"A hotel, more like motel I guess. After you got hurt, I brought you here to rest." He tells you.

"Does anyone know were here?"

"Of course not." He says with a small chuckle. "No, no one knows." You nod. You're not sure why you aren't terrified of him right now. Maybe it's the fact he's staying a reasonable distance from you or the fact you spent 7 years of your life growing up together. Either way you weren't scared.

Not like you should be that scared anyway. You weren't the type of people he wanted gone, plus it was his goons that attacked you and your friends anyway.

"I know you're probably pissed right now but I assure you, you were only collateral. You were never meant to be hurt by any of my guys." Geto says seemling honest as he hands sits onto the bed. You don't look at him choosing instead to stare at the wall.

Anything is better than looking at him.

“What happened to the guy that did this to me?” You asked not sure you wanted to really know the answer.

“He was delt with.”

“You killed him.” You accuse.

“Yes.” He agrees. There's not the smallest hint of regret in his voice at his confession. Not a shred of remorse for the life he took so carelessly.

That man who hurt you wasn't good, but the idea of Suguru killing him for hurting you feels like you're responsible for his death by proxy and well...

Well, that doesn't feel very good.

"Y/n." He says his voice barely not a whisper. The wall still seems very interesting so you don't look away from it. But when Suguru grabs your chin and turns your head towards him it's like your body can't stop itself from complying.

His long hair is down covering his bare shoulders. He's half naked, his torso exposed while his lowerbody is covered by thin pajama pants. His eyes are dark and piercing, the kind of eyes that reach into your soul and rip something out everytime they lock with your own.

"Are you leaving again?" It’s a stupid question you know it because you know he will. He can't stay. He was never going to stay. Hell, it's not like he'd even be with you right now if you weren't hurt.

"You know I have to."

You scoff pushing your covers off trying to get to your feet. You don't wanna be here anymore.

Not with him. Looking at him feels like a million spikes being lodged into the void of your heart he once filled.

"Sit back down you are not well enough." Suguru ordered, you tilt your head at him and scoff.

"I'm sorry to be the one who tells you this but you don't get to tell me what to do. Not after what you did." You say stubbornly but when you stand, the dizziness is too much and makes you sit back down almost immediately.

"I apologize that you were caught in the cross fire Y/n seriously, I had no idea you'd even be there." He says.

"Don't apologise. I don't need a babysitter Suguru. And I'm not some weak helpless damnsal who needs you to look after her despite what you might think.

The silence between you is deafening it's thick, like a block of invisible ice separating the two of you. You lie back down, your back now to Suguru. But still very keenly aware of his presence.

It's been only a month since Suguru killed his parents and went off on his own to 'cleanse' the world of non-sorcerers.

You remember it so vividly, the day he came stumbling into your dorm covered in blood. You remember freaking out asking if he was all right. And him telling you had nothing to worry about because it wasn't his. You remember how he told you about his master plan.

How he was going to fix this world. He confessed he murdered his parents. He confessed to wanting all non sorcerers dead.

He wanted you to understand, to somehow empathize with him and his logic. But he knew when your eyes filled with tears and you stared at him like he was a monster that you wouldn't come with him.

He wanted to ask. He needed to know if you would but that wasn't the time to ask. But when could it be?

He terrified you in that moment. He wasn't Suguru. Polite, thoughtful Suguru. He was scary.

He was evil.

Your eyes weld at the memory of him leaving your room. He didn't hurt you. But he was hurt. You could tell. A lone tear spilled from your eye but you quickly wiped it.

This wasn't how you're reuion was supposed to go. You hoped one day he'd come back, go to prison for his crimes and redeem himself the best he could.

But that was a pipe dream and you knew it.

Another tear falls and you can't hold back your sobs anymore.

You began crying harder and harder your body rocking with the force of your cries. You feel the mattress dip and warm body presses against your back wrapping strong arms around you.

This gesture makes you cry more because it reminds you of the innocence he once had as that ignorant bright eyed boy.

And even though this touch feels like him. That boy he once was is gone.

You cry some more as Suguru rubs and pets you until you finally stop shaking.

It's really dark out now. The silence no longer filled by your sobs or sniffiles. Only the low hum of the old motel air conditioning is what keeps the room from being dead quiet.

"You said I thought you were weak. That isn't what I think you know?" Geto says into the dark still room. You let out a shuddered breath your hands squeezing down on Sugurus forearm, your nails pressing into the pale expanse of his skin .

You hold onto him so hard.

You hold onto him like he'll fly away if you let go and you know he will go soon. He'll leave you again, abandon you, and all you can do is patheticly hold into him, hoping he cares enough about you to stay. To fix his mistakes.

"I don't know what you think anymore." You say finally. Geto let's out a sigh his hold tightening around your waist.

This is different. Such a forgien feeling. Suguru and you hardly if ever touched because that's just not how the two of you were. You were so close but the only time you can remember him holding you like this was after a particularly dangerous mission you went on that nearly costed you your life.

You remember returning home battered and bruised and you remember Suguru wordlessly pulling you into a tight embrace holding you like if he let go you'd fall apart.

But this hug. It's a hug not familiar to the two of you. It's so intimate and naked. It makes you feel like his trying to absorb you. Like he trying to crawl into your skin.

"Look at me."

"Suguru." You whispered, his head lying on your shoulder. As he tells you again.

"Look at me." You do this time. Turning your body around to finally face him properly for the first time tonight.

"You have to know. You have to know I'm leaving but not because I want to. It's because I have too. For our friends. For our families." He pauses. "For us."

"For us." You repeat. You like the word 'us' in terms of you and Suguru. It slips off your lips like a prayer you've prayed a thousand times. But it's not real.

"There is no us Suguru. Not when you're about to abandon me again, not when you're about to do more bad things." You say pulling from his warm embrace. A weak part of you wants to run back into his arms but you don't. Instead you stand to your feet ignoring your bodies protest, and storm out the motel room all but slamming the door behind you.

You feel new warm tears fill your eyes as you lean against the balcony railing. Tears forming so hot, and heavy in your eyes.

The door to the motel room opens behind you and you see him approach you in a vending machine reflection. His shirt is on now just unbuttoned. You watch him, watch you through the reflection tilting his head in earnest.

"Someone once told me that to be happy i’d have to chase after the things and people that made me happy." Suguru says. "That was you. You told me that."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means that deep down you understand. Even if this hurts you know why I'm doing it. I'm doing it for you." Suguru says approaching you closer.

"You’re doing it for yourself."

"I'm doing this for a better tomorrow. So our children live in violent free world. So their kids won't even know what suffering is. That's the world I want." He says his large hands circling your waist the second time tonight making your breath hitch.

"And I will carve out every worthless non-sorcerer monkey I have to to achieve that."

"You can't do that to innocent people!” You say turning to finally face him. And now that you wished you hadn't, because the way he stares down at you. The way he makes you feel small yet so big all at once. The way his gaze breaths life into your lungs is intoxicating.

But he's not good.

It's so hard to condemn him when your heart beats fast in your chest. Your soul wanting him, knowing him.

"What about innocent sorcerers that have to fight those curses because of non-shamens? What about our lives? I'm tired of watching people I love die Y/n. And so help me god, if I can help it. You won't die by the hands of a curse." His hand raises up to cup your check in a gentle touch that warms your heart so much you might die.

"You'll grow old and your skin will wrinkle. Your smile lines will be more prominent because you would have lived a long life." He says his hair blowing gently in the soft breeze. He looks at you like you're a diamond in a world of mud. His thumb caresses your face so soft, and so gentle as he places a kiss on your lips.

You gasp into his mouth. It's no secret you wanted him or that you were attracted to him. But this kiss somehow feels cruel. To give you something you've longed for knowing you'll never have it again.

The kiss distracts you from all of that though. Just for a second.

His lips are soft and firm against your own as he steals this kiss from you. You don't push him away you let his lips caress your own. You let his hand get curious and rest on your hips. But other than that the kiss is so gentle, it breaths a promise of forever into you.

It almost makes you sick because it's not forever. And you both know that.

At that thought. Your face warms with desire and anger.

“Come with me.” He says. You shake your head.

“You know I can't.” You tell him.

“Then wait for me, wait for me to make it all better. Wait for me to come back to you.” He begs. You shake your head your heart breaking in your chest.

"Youre abandoning me again." You cry patheticly.

"I'm not abandoning you Y/n. I'm making you the life you deserve. But you can come with me. We can do this together we can build this world together.”

You shake your head.

"I didn't ask for this Suguru. And you keep saying you need to build a better world for me. For our future. But this..this choice you're making. This isn't for me..its for you." You say firmly. He opens his mouth to speak but you push passed him heading to the motel room and grabbing your discarded clothes from the floor.

You turn to leave, Suguru standing right behind you his eyes holding an uncharacteristic desperation in them.

"Please. Don't do this."

"Suguru."

"Please. Please." He begs, following you to the door effectively blocking it.

"Move Suguru." You say.

"Please, just please! Okay please don't leave yet I'm not ready to lose you yet." He says softly. And almost so pathetic you want to hold him forever as he cries. But you deserve more. You deserve better.

"You’re leaving anyway. And you know I won't come with you. What difference does it make if I leave your first?” You ask, he swallows harshly his eyes filling with tears. His lips form a small pout and he falls to his knees in front of you. His arms hugging your waist like a child who was told he couldn't get a toy from the store.

He cries so hard his soaks the front of your battered uniform. He pleads and cries and asks you to just stay the night because you both know when you leave you won't see him, not for a while anyway.

"I know I'm leaving soon. And I know you're angry because in your eyes, I’ve made some fucked up choices. And I hurt you. I didn't want to Y/n I swear to god." He said sobs still racking his body. You felt bad.

You hated seeing him sad. It killed you.

He knew it killed you because it killed him to feel like this. If you walked away he'd die. He wanted, no, needed you to choose him.

"Please stay. Please Y/n." He cried. Your own tears started spilling as Suguru stood to his feet once again, his eyes staring at you with a thousand thoughts behind them.

He kisses you again. His hands no longer as reluctant and gentle as before, but more forceful and agitated. He feels you through your clothes. He gropes and pulls on your body parts like he'll die if he doesn't.

His lips carve the memory of their softness into the cells of your skin sucking and biting your neck. Hoping if you do choose humanity over him, you'll never forget him or his touch.

"Stop Suguru." You patheticly say, not really sure you mean it. He ignores you, pulling you to the old more than likely filthy bed making you straddle his lap. He's kissing you again rougher still. More desperate.

His hands are on your hips grinding your lower body into his. He wants you to feel that he is growing under his pajama pants. And you do. God you do.

"I'm not perfect. And I know you fucking hate me for what I did. But if you walk away now, I won't be able to have you back. So please." He whispered his hands roaming your shape like he needs to memorize it before it's gone.

His hands are groping the flesh of your breasts and ass over your clothes. His face is flushed with a desire you've never really seen from him before.

Lust.

No not lust. Something scarier than lust.

Something you two can't admit to yourselves, least it hurt too much.

His eyes plead up at you so innocently, that his hands fondeling you feels almost as innocent as a gentle touch. His hands on your breasts feel like a soft kiss on the forehead.

Only Suguru Geto could make you feel like that. Only he could touch you like this and make you feel all dirty yet so pure. And you hate your body and your mind and your fucking self for how bad you want to never have him let go. You want him to hold you so tight it suffocates and kills you.

He rolls you on your back kissing you again. You've never been kissed like this before and it scares you. It scares you how your legs part to accommodate him as lies in between them kissing your lips like it's his god given right to do so.

There's only fabric between the two of you. He's hard and heavy in his pants and you're hot and tight needing to be filled by him.

He pulls away his hair falling over the two of you as he looks down at you his face flushed.

"I'm getting too excited." He says stopping his menstruations on your body. "You have to tell me to stop because if you don't. I won't be able to hold back."

You look at him. His breath shallow and his face so beautiful. How could you refuse him?

"I don't want you to hold back." You admit in a whisper. His breath hitches and he kisses you yet again. He strips your shirt off his eyes going wide like a 13 year old boy seeing bare boobs online for the first time.

You wanna cover yourself from his intense gaze, but he catches your wrist as it moves to cover your exposed chest.

“Don’t you ever hide this perfect body from me.” He says seriously. You close your eyes in embarrassment as he grabs at your tits. Slapping them around, lifting them up and watching them fall back into place. He watches in awe at how sexy they look. How cute your nipples look, all hard and needing a warm mouth around them. God you had no idea how bad he just wanted to play with them for hours.

But he needs more and so do you. Which is why once he forces his attention from your tits his hands move down your body more or less ripping your panties off to begin rubbing your clit.

You yelp, grabbing his wrist but he doesn't let up.

"You're so fucking beautiful, so fucking perfect. You have no idea how much self control it took me to not put my cock in you all these years." He admits. You moan as his rubs your clit so hard and so fast you know you won't last.

"But it was more than me wanting to fuck you. I cared about you. I still do." He tells you, pulling his cock out of his pants. He gives his hard erection a few tugs lining it up with your enterance kissing you again before pushing inside you.

You both moan. The sound sounds as if it's being forced out of you both like the two of you couldn't hold it back if you tried. Suguru rested his head in the crook of your neck his hips snapping into your own at a firm steady pace.

"So fucking warm baby." He praises breathlessly. You want to compliment him too but the drag of his cock in you makes it hard to even think.

"So perfect. You were made for me. You fit me like a puzzle piece. Made to take my cock, to take my seed." He says the last part a little quieter. Like he's embarrassed by how the idea of you baring his kids gets him excited.

"No way you're knocking me up asshole." You tried to joke but it came out as more of a breathy moan. He chuckled.

"You wouldn't stop me though. Because you want it too." You don't respond to his accusation because truthfully you don't know what to say to that.

Suguru doesn't notice they way you begin contemplating the idea of having a family with him. He just keeps rutting into you a small smile growing on his lips at a thought.

"Hey, if I get you pregnant you'll be stuck with me. Tied to me forever, right? I might just fuck my cum inside if that'll make you mine. I wanna put a kid in you that looks like me. I want it to remind you of me." Suguru confesses his thrusts becoming more violent and rough.

"I wanna see these tits full of milk. I wanna suck on them when they get full and sore. I wanna watch our kid start to resemble you as it gets older."

"I wanna look at them and think 'they look just like their momma'" Suguru says softly. So softly it feels wrong.

It feels wrong because he's not fucking you like a doting husband who wants you to bare his kids. He's fucking you like you're his personal porn star made for his cock.

But they way he speaks. The way he looks down at you.

It's like this is more than just a good fuck.

It's like you're lovers on their honey moon trying to get pregnant. But you aren't lovers, and you aren't on your honey moon. You're just two horny people saying goodbye with their bodies in the most intimate way.

"Am I your first?" He asks abruptly. You nod biting your lip. You didn't think you’d loss it like this but you also aren't mad he's the one that's taking it. It was always his after all.

He smiles so wide at this revelation, so creepily it almost scared you but he kisses your fear away.

"Y/n, when you leave me tonight, you should know that while I'm gone. If you let another man inside you like this. If you let another man put his naked cock in you just like mine is in you right now, their dead. Their fucking dead, I'll skin them alive. Rip them limb from limb slowly, and make them suffer for touching you." Suguru says. A part of you wants to think he's joking or just in the moment, but you know he's telling the truth. The way he's looking at you.

You know he wants to claim you.

He wants to own you.

"Maybe I should find a way to put a cursed seal on this pussy. Keep men away from it. Keep it nice and aching for me till I get back. Make sure it stays just for me." Suguru says.

"I won't let anyone else Sugu! Just you, I won't let anyone else touch me." You say kissing Suguru. You feel his hips stutter as he eyes roll back.

There's an evolutionary, animalistic, masculine need to breed you coursing through his veins. To fuck his cum so deep its absorbed into you. He wants that.

He meant it when he said he wanted to get you pregnant. He wants to see what your baby would look like. He wants to watch you nurse and help you raise it.

But he can't have that now.

But not in this world.

Not this world of curses and weaknesses caused by non-sorcerers. But a world of strength and human advancement. That's the world he wants your kid to live in.

So reluctantly and bitterly he pulls his cock out and spurts hot cum all over your naked stomach. He quickly starts licking and sucking your pussy pushing you over the edge too. He loves how when you cum you drench him in your essence.

He's so grateful for it. He just wants to lick and suck your pussy till his mouth has your taste burned in his mind.

He wants you to be burned in his mind.

He sighs licking his lips as his fingers spread his now cold cum over your belly with one phrase in his head in his head.

In sometime soon. Maybe not today or tomorrow or even the next five years. He'll build the world you deserve.

He rests his tired body on top of yours as he kisses your cheek his hand resting over your womb.

'One day.'

#suguru geto smut #smut #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto smut #getou smut #anime smut #x reader

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blitheringbongus · 4 months

Text

In which Scar knows he’s in love

In which Scar falls asleep at a Boatem party, and the morning after.

Or: Scars down bad for Mumbo and doesn’t know how to deal with it

Warnings: mentioned alcohol, hangover, headaches, mentioned dying (in Minecraft, where you respawn, nothing painful), mentioned toxic masculinity (only one line, not too severe)

Scar watched the two red lights dance in his blurry vision as they moved in a slow and rythmatic manner. He smiled up at them, they were so pretty, and he felt so heavy. The darkness around his eyes crept closer until he couldn’t see any more. Distant muffled music closed to an end, and he breathed. He could see his breath, cold and unwavering, though fading back into the darkness. He blinked, and god, did he feel that blink. His eyes felt cold and dry. He looked around. Darkness, everywhere. But then, a looming light, overhead, holding that same crimson he saw as he passed out. He watched it with amazement, it didn’t scare him, it comforted him.

He smelled motor oil and pinecones and warmth. He smelled electricity and melted wax and happiness.

And he didn’t smell that familiar cold. He felt warm.

His eyes warmed up, and they weren’t dry anymore, they weren’t freezing. They felt nice, they felt normal.

He looked down and he was fully dressed. He looked beside himself and there were stars. Beautiful, blinking, stars. Were they eyes?

He moved his head to the side, and his face touched something soft. It smelled stronger of that wonderful smell than his surroundings, and so he buried his nose in it, and breathed. And his breath wasn’t to be seen.

—

„Is he smelling you?“ Impulse laughed and pointed at the man, face shoved deep in the neck of his fellow hermit Mumbo. The fellow hermit, in response, laughed nervously with Impulse, and said, „he must be dreaming of smelling pies- like in those old cartoons! You know when they float-„

Grian chuckled and agreed, setting his drink down on the stone floor of The Boatem Hole, „We should prank him,“ he smiled.

Pearl lightly punched his shoulder, „I was just about to get me markers and cream,“ Grian snickered mischievously. „Maybe a mustache, like our CEO‘s?“

They collectively agreed.

—

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to get drunk in The Boatem Hole. A hole that went beneath Bedrock, falling in which would result in certain death in the void, earning that yucky staticy feeling. But the Boatem crew loved that hole, so they had all their meetings there. Including parties. It was really, really stupid. But it was fun.

Many deaths occured that night. Nothing the crew couldn’t handle, though.

The following morning, Scar would awaken in his own bed, it was warm and it was comfortable. It would be more comfortable if he hadn’t had that headache, he realized as a pang of pain shot through his head.

Scar sat up, and dragged his hand over his face, trying to wake himself up a bit.

He blinked slowly, something felt absent. What felt absent? He looked around. There was a glass of water and some pills on the side of his bed, huh. He usually wasn’t that prepared- someone must’ve put it there… maybe Jellie?

He washed a pill down with the water, and groggily got up. He was in his clothes from the day before, minus his Jacket, shoes and corset. Hey, when’d he take his vest off?

He blinked slowly, and noticed his missing clothes folded neatly on the ‚couch‘ in his room. The builder scratched his head. His mouth tasted disgusting, he should brush his teeth.

He sighed, and he sauntered to the bathroom.

It looked fairly normal, unchanged. He stepped infront of the mirror and reached for his toothbrush, putting paste on it, wetting it up, reaching it towards his mouth, looking up, and stopping-

He nearly dropped his toothbrush as he exhaled a quiet laugh. His face was scribbled all over! He started brushing his teeth, and observed his general appearance. He has a quite dashing mustache drawn on his upper lip, long and curled at the end. ‚Almost like Mumbos‘ he thought, but he knew, nothing could match the mustacheness of Mumbos mustache. A drawn monocle adorned his face, although that one looked less dashing, and more crude. Definitely Grian. He had whiskers drawn on his face in squiggly lines, Pearl, and a shaky heart on his jaw, Impulse. Now where did Cub draw? Was he even at the party? Scar wasnt even sure if Cub was a part of Boatem.

His hair was a disaster, to put it lightly. Hairstrands were sticking up and to the side in places they shouldn’t and those were. Quite a few knots. That’s going to be hell to comb. What happened last night?

His suspenders were down, hanging against the sides of his thighs. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and his sleeves, well, one sleeve was rolled up, and one sleeve wasn’t. Both were unbuttoned.

He definitely had to shower.

He spit the toothpaste into the sink and washed his mouth and toothbrush respectively.

Scar stretched with a wince as he heard his neck and back pop.

After his well needed shower, and getting dressed, Scar grabbed some food and exited his wagon, wincing at the sunlight. Grumbling over the sun, and the fact that he was unable to scrub the marker off, he merely smudged it, he ate and searched for Grian, making a beeline towards the mans house.

He knocked on the mans door and waited barely two seconds before opening it, entering the pesky birds home. „I know what you did, Gri!“ he called into the home, and he heard a muffled noise coming from Grians bedroom.

He went up the stairs, and he knocked on Grians door, and he opened it, finding Grian still half asleep in his bed, wearing the same clothes as yesterday like Scar did when he woke up. His fellow builder emidded whiny noises, „shhhsjihs quietttt Scarrr“ he drew out, burying his face in his pillow and lifting the sides of it to cover his ears.

„What happened last night?“ Scar asked simply, he only remembers the smell of melted wax and warmth, among other things, but he couldn’t seem to remember anything else, only blurry images, none of which he could yet identify. How wasted did he get?

Grian responded with a snore, and Scar knew he was asleep, so he left the mans home. He’ll prank him for this later, he’ll prank all of them! He shook his fist at the angry sun, and he audibly whined at the bright beams of it.

Who’s next on his list.. he looked around, either Impulse or Pearl or Mumbo. Who would be awake at this time? Both Impulse and Mumbo were early risers, but Scar genuinely had no clue where Impulses living quarters were in that huge base of his. And so, he chose Mumbo.

He made his way towards Treesa, and he weakly climbed her vines, and he fell, and he groaned, and he climbed again.

Now inside the mustached mans base, he blinked his eyes a few times, and he smelled pinecone, and he smelled motor oil.

He inhaled the scent, and the light was just right in Treesa. He moved the vines to cover up the makeshift doorway, and he sauntered to search for Mumbo.

He found him fairly easily, he was still sleeping in bed, in his van, it seemed. What time was it? How come Scar awoke before Mumbo or seemingly Impulse? He shrugged, and he leaned down to get a better look at Mumbo, the only hermit he’s seen today covered by a blanket whilst sleeping. He looked peaceful, and the smell of electricity and warmth strengthened.

He kneeled, and he gently shook the mans shoulder, and Mumbo huffed, and Mumbo rolled over.

Scar couldn’t help but smile.

He leaned over and onto the bed partially, his torso hovering over it, and he shook the mans shoulder again. „Pssst, Mumbooo wakey wakey eggs and bakey, dude!“ he almost whispered.

He’s more gentle with Mumbo than with Grian, he knows why, but he won’t admit it to himself. He knows why he looks at him differently than the other Boatem members, he knows why he wants to learn every last detail of the man, he knows why every touch they share feels electric to him, he knows why he dreams of him, and he knows why-

Scar was pulled out of his thoughts by the noise of Mumbo groaning. The redstoner blinked his eyes open slowly, looking up and above at the builder looming over him.

His eyes were half lidded and glossy, his usually neat dark hair was messy and curled.

„Scar?“ Mumbo muttered out, muffled by the blanket covering the underside of his face. He tugged the blanket away from it slowly, going below his neck.

Suddenly, Scar forgot all about why he went to wake Mumbo up, he just looked down at him and felt that tug in his chest again.

He was so pretty.

Could a man be considered pretty? Could a man be considered beautiful? Scar grew up being taught those terms were rude to refer a man to, but those were also the only words Scar found himself being able to describe the man below him. He was pretty and he was beautiful and oh gods he was in love.

„Scar?“ Mumbo tilted his head, tired and confused, and Scar wanted to kiss him. He’d never.

The builder blinked a few times before his brain started working again. „Hm? Oh, right! Mumbo! Do you have any idea what happened last night? Because my brain completely blanked yesterday,“

Mumbo reached up to rub his own eyes, leaning up a bit on his elbows, which made Scar lean back a bit, they were so close.. „Well you fell asleep, and so we decided to draw on your face, I figure you’ve already made out that part?“ he said in a soft voice, it was almost faint, the man was still waking up. Scar wanted to hear his voice like that every morning.

Scar chuckled, „yes, yes. I’ve made out that much, but what else? I honestly barely remember anything!“ „well what do you remember?“ Mumbo sat up more, not having to lean on his elbows anymore, and Scar leaned back further, opting to instead get up and sit on the mans bed. „Mh..“ Scar looked at Mumbo in thought. „Well, I remember that at some point we played duck duck goose?“ „Oh that was before we even touched any alcohol, how quickly are you able to get black out drunk-„

Mumbo looked at the man with bewilderment in his eyes, but he still looked tired. „I’m a lightweight,“ he simply answered. „Hey, how about we talk about this when you’re more awake, hm?“ Scar put a hand on Mumbos shoulder and guided him to lay down again, Mumbo complied.

The tired redstoner made an agreeing noise, and slowly moved himself so he’s laying on his side, curled up and quickly slipping back into dreamland.

Scar watched, and Scar wanted to stay. Was he allowed to? The sight of his fellow hermit falling asleep so quickly and so easily made him tired all the same. He could lay with him, for a bit. He’d get up and leave before Mumbo does. He yawned, and he laid down gently beside the man, watching the back of his head. He rarely sees the mans hair ungeeled, it looked so soft. He wanted to touch it, he wanted to touch him, he didn’t.

He laid his hands folded underneath his head, and closed his eyes, smelling motor oil and pinecones and warmth, smelling electricity and melted wax and happiness.

And he fell asleep, and he was happy.

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alenseress · 7 months

Text

"You love me," he jokes.

"I do," Mihawk doesn't joke in general.

Shanks gags around the accidental mouthful of jerky, desperately trying to push it down. Or up. Mihawk doesn't look up, in fact, doesn't budge at all, eyes stuck to the same word in the line.

"The—" Shanks wheezes. Shanks chokes and coughs and wiggles like a dying roach before spitting the sorry chunk out and rasping "the fuck you do" with teary eyes.

It sounds offended. A little bit hurt, metaphorically and literally. Mihawk pulls his knees up to his chest, shuts the book closed between them and clutches freezing fingers into tight fists. Then, folds his arms too for a good measure, as Shanks slides across the crow's nest in one hurried effort. It's a mere few seconds of wailing, creaking and yelping in a small space between the railings before the book he was reading tumbles down, down, down, and Shanks pulls himself up, up, up, squeezing in between Mihawk's thighs. It looks fucking scary. It feels fucking scary, with everything swaying and moaning around them from the sudden commotion and Mihawk hears a splash as he desperately clings to Shanks' collar, body pushed into awkward angles beneath the weight of another.

"What is wrong with you?!"

Shanks has that face on, one of mad childlike stubbornness, with pouting frown and searching eyes, and the wind is oh so harsh against Mihawk's back. He doesn't know what to do, every muscle very much frozen in something akin to animalistic panic. Shanks pushes for both of them, forehead pressing into his with skull-cracking force.

"Say it again."

"No."

"Captain's order."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"You're on my ship."

"That's not—"

Hands let go of the railing and touch his chin. No, cup. Hold between two palms, fingers brushing loose hair away, shaking, begging. "Mihawk, please."

Mihawk pulls the collar and bites into the sodden mouth. Hard enough to make the dry lip pop with blood, not hard enough for the bastard to let go. He keens instead, scooting in closer, so much that his knees slide almost entirely under Mihawk's behind and tip him over. There's a moment of cold fear and hearts dropping as Mihawk's head and hat fall between the spindles and someone shrieks "what the hell is going on up there" from the deck.

"Got it! Nothing!" Shanks wheezes, yanking Mihawk on top of himself, slapping a cheek to the bare chest. A few heartbeats later, a sheepish confirmation comes. "Got it?"

Mihawk squeezes his thighs and nods with a gulp, fingers stupidly not letting go of the hat's brim.

God, help them all.

The wind blows and blows, the breaths get slower, the tense muscles grow tired, and Mihawk feels himself slouch. Shanks rubs his ear slowly, almost as surprised at the loss of contact, and blinks up — all blood and snot and dried tears Mihawk rolls his eyes at.

"You're a pig of a man," he sighs, not sounding half as annoyed as he intended, not half as disgusted as he should be, wiping the scrunched face with a sleeve.

"Let me try," the captain whispers, and Mihawk waits for him to push his arm away, confused, but lips meet lips in a gentle press again and, oh, oh Shanks definitely tries.

Mihawk laughs into his face, into his neck, elbows finding rest on his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist in surrender. He cradles the heavy red head as the man, the boy, runs the last of his quiet tears into his shirt.

"I'm so fucking tired of you."

"You're too young to be tired of anything, Red."

Shanks pulls away and slumps back, running palms along Mihawk's lost in the air forearms, holding his wrists gently. Not slim enough for the ring of fingers to connect around them, not firm enough to be meant for holding.

"I can't promise you anything," he tries once more, staring empty at the thumbs caressing him.

Shanks looks up with the same pout. "You just did."

"That wasn't a promise."

"Then let me try again," the grip grows tighter. "Until I get it right."

He won't, Mihawk knows.

They try again.

#shanks spends first half of his twenties trying to get mihawk to become his first mate #mihawk spends the late half of his twenties running from his own happiness #they're both miserable #mishanks #opla #Spotify

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frvnkcastles · 9 months

Note

Hi! Could you maybe do something where the reader and Frank are hanging out(romantic or platonic idrc) and they run into a man who groomed the reader when she was a teenager? It doesn’t have to necessarily be that he assaulted her, but it could have still been an inappropriate relationship. The reader could like freeze up. I’ve been in a similar situation and it’s such a mix of emotions sometimes you can just shut down no matter how much you practiced this very scenario in your head. I feel like Frank might not understand at first but when he did would be pissed. I know you do more PTSD oriented asks, but I thought this might also be in your lane. Also I hope you’re doing good and even if you never respond to this I’ll enjoy whatever you write :)

ALL OF OUR SINS ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When you see a man from your past, Frank is the one person you can turn to.

Warnings: Past grooming, almost a panic attack, language, feminine nicknames

Word count: 1.3k

Author’s note: I am incredibly touched that you wanted me to tell this story, I hope I did your request justice. Thank you for being patient with me :) I’m sending lots of (consensual) hugs your way, I hope you are doing well <3

It hadn’t occurred to you that you should have your guard up after all these years. Especially with Frank by your side. But it seemed that the past loved the tendency to sneak up on you when you least expected it, ripping open old wounds that had nearly healed and faded into scars you tried to carry despite their weight. Or, at the very least, you couldn’t come to another conclusion when on a completely normal day, a perfectly unassuming Tuesday, you saw him.

You were walking down the street with Frank next to you, his hands in his pockets but his intimidating frame enough to ward off any potential evil-doers. You were under his protection and anyone with a sound mind understood as much from the mere sight of him towering by your smaller figure.

You supposed that dubbed the man from your past as anything but reasonable.

You heard your name first, and instinctively, you stopped walking and glanced over your shoulder. As soon as you saw him, your mouth ran dry and any life drained from your face — he, on the other hand, came up to you with a smile like you were old friends.

”Hey, there. It’s been, God, years, hasn’t it? You look great”, he began his tirade of pleasantries, all the while you ducked your head low and avoided his gaze. You murmured something in return, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that whoever was talking your ear off right now was an unwelcome guest.

Frank had stopped walking, as well, and appeared by your side like a guard dog, standing proudly next to you with a cold stare in his dark eyes. Still, you could tell he was confused — it was no one he recognized, but the two of you had shared almost everything there was to know about each other.

Nonetheless, when the man standing across from you reached for your shoulder with his hand, Frank stepped forward to stop him, just as you flinched back from the touch. Menacing as always, Frank stared the older man down, silent but more than capable of delivering his message without a single word.

”And is this the boyfriend, huh? I did always wonder who the lucky guy would be, missy”, the man chuckled, stepping away with his hands held up in his own defense. Frank lifted an eyebrow at him before reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze — though not quite as tight as the grip you closed his fingers in.

”Yeah, that’s right”, Frank spoke up when you didn’t seem to get any words out. ”And we ain’t lookin’ for a third. Have a… well, the day you deserve”, he decided simply before tugging you along and promptly walking you away from the man who stayed behind and watched you leave.

Fuck, how could you have frozen like that? Even now, your ears were buzzing and Frank’s concerned words didn’t manage to break through the blur, and as the panic inside you increased, tears threatened to pour out of your eyes. It was like ice-cold water had been dumped over you, like you had been slapped in the face. You hadn’t been prepared for that — God, you hadn’t even thought about the stupid, selfish, greedy man in so long and here he was, coming up to you with small-talk like he hadn’t done a single thing wrong.

Frank’s hand touched your shoulder and you flinched in a way that had his face twisting with regret and pain. You immediately moved to apologize, but before you could, he spoke up and dropped his hand from your shoulder to your fingertips in the briefest, gentlest little caress.

”You okay, sweetheart?” he grumbled in that worried, low tone of his that you knew all too well, and his care alone got you to smile a little bit.

”I’m okay”, you confirmed, even if you couldn’t hide the way you wiped your eyes. ”Let’s just go home.”

And agreeing with a quiet nod, Frank took your hand, no longer just strolling by your side like a shadow, but making sure you knew he had your back.

Still, neither of you could get the uncomfortable interaction out of your mind. Frank could tell from the way you kept zoning out throughout the day, and his own heart was gnawed by the need to do something about it. He knew you’d speak up about it if you wanted to, but when it was near midnight and you began preparing for bed, he took a headfirst dive into uncharted territory and stopped you with his hand tightly wrapped around yours.

”Hey, if I’m bein’ an asshole, you just tell me to fuck off, aight?” he started while holding your hand and sitting on the edge of your bed, and turning back to him instead of heading for the bathroom like you had intended, you chuckled. ”That was… shitty, what happened today. You can play it cool all you want but I see you, girl. And I think it could be really good to talk about it. So, if you wanna rant to me about that… man, then ’m all ears”, Frank continued, and with an exposed look, you glanced away from him but he reeled you in closer.

”Look at you”, you whispered, ”Frank Castle, the king of communication.”

Frank snorted. ”I’m tryin’, at least. For you, y’know?” he shrugged before licking his lips and locking eyes with you in the most irresistible way. ”Communicate with me, huh?”

With a thick swallow, you sat down next to him on the bed and traced mindless patterns on the back of his hand. ”He was a family friend. He was around a lot when I was a teenager”, you began, pursing your lips together as your voice got quieter. ”He was inappropriate with me, I guess you could say. I didn’t realize how wrong it was at the time, but looking back, I’m really lucky nothing bad actually happened. It was just… things he’d say, you know? The way he acted around me, just…”, you trailed off, and when you found the courage to look up at Frank, you saw him staring back at you with full attention but his eyebrows drawn together and his jaw clenched.

”I didn’t lead him on—”, you started again, but Frank cut you off with a scoff.

”Sweetheart, of course you didn’t. You did nothin’ wrong. That piece of shit? He’s an asshole. He deserves… he deserves to have his face beaten in, I swear to God, I—”, he tried, but you could tell his anger was getting the best of him. You placed both hands on his cheeks and shushed him, but he spoke up, nonetheless.

”I can’t tell you how fuckin’ sorry I am. That’s… you never should have gone through that, aight? That ain’t okay. He ain’t a safe person to be around and I’m… I’mma make sure no one else has to be in that situation with him again”, he swore, and swallowing, you nodded. You had figured he’d take matters into his own hands, and knowing him, you had no intention or willingness to stop him.

”Okay”, you breathed out, ”but stay with me first?”

Relaxing a little bit, Frank nodded and rested his forehead against yours. ”I love you, sweet girl. I’m sorry you haven’t always been treated right. I swear I’mma do my everythin’ to be different”, he insisted, and with a smile, you repeated his nod. He placed a kiss on your forehead and you closed your eyes, just breathed him in.

And when he slipped out later that night, you knew he’d be out doing his thing, and you supposed some of the big bad Punisher’s morals had rubbed off on you, because… you felt relieved. And more importantly, with him, you felt safe.

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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robinhobiii · 9 months

Text

I Love Boo

Boyfriend! Seungkwan

Seungkwan is your best friend but he’s also your boyfriend

Part II, Part III

“Babe, I’m telling you Girls’ Generation is better than Wonder girls!”

Gasp!

“You take that back this instant. Don’t disrespect my favorite girl group like that.” He said as he snatched the remote

“Maybe, I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t scream “I want nobody nobody but you” in the shower at 7 in the morning! ”

“Stop being jealous that I’m better at singing than you. ”

“Sure, kwannie. Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! I literally won the singing competition last summer!”

“Yeah against kids.”

“The age range was anyone from the ages of 13 to 18!”

“You’re 25.”

“. . . S-so, I still won. Winners succeed in life, y/n. Take notes. ”

“I’m not taking notes from a man that took a 13 year old’s thunder.”

“Shut up! I hate you sometimes!”

. . .

“Kwannie, hurry up!” Y/n whined as she continued to wait on the sofa.

“Just a minute. I’m almost done.” He replied.

“You said that 20 minutes ago.” She muttered.

“What was that buttercup?”

“Nothing, just hurry up.”

God, he was always late to everything. Y/n thought she was the one the took forever to get ready, but Seungkwan was another level. He took even longer than her.

“I’m ready, my love.” He sung out after another 10 minutes.

“Wow, you look amazing, beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful.” She said sarcastically as she finally put her shoes on and waited for Seungkwan to do the same.

“No, say it like you mean it or else I’m not wearing my shoes and we’ll be even more late.”

The audacity of this man. Let me just strangle his stup-

Sigh

“My beautiful Kwannie. You have wonderfully graced my eyes and I’ll forever be grateful to be in your ethereal presence. Now shall we get going my love bug?”

Seungkwan giggled. “Yes, of course!”

. . .

“Y/nie, I’m so cold right.” Seungkwan said as he shivered.

Y/n took his cold hands and intertwined them with her slightly warmer ones, and shoved their hands in her coat pocket.

He blushed as he said “you know, I’m supposed to that.”

“Can’t have my beautiful Kwannie freezing on me.” She said teasingly.

He rolled his eyes as his free hand reached into his pocket. “Oh no!”

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“I forgot my lip balm.” He whined out. “Now, I’m cold and have dry cracked lips.”

Y/n chuckled as she felt her lip balm in her other pocket. But it wouldn’t be fun to just give it to him. She came to a stop and Seungkwan turned to look at her. “What? Did you forget something too?” He said as he scanned her face.

She only smiled and looked straight at him. She then put her hands on his shoulders and went up on her tippie toes to place a warm kiss on his cracked lips.

“There.”

He blushed like crazy and looked at her all flushed. “W-what?”

“You said you needed lip balm, so I gave you some.” Y/n was also blushing red.

He licked his lips out of habit and tasted her strawberry lip balm.

“We should head home.” She said as she made her way away from him.

“W-wait for me. I’ll get you back when we get back home.”

. . .

“Do you think Seokmin oppa ever washes his hand?”

“Never. One time he was tasked with cutting the watermelon and Channie told me that he didn’t wash his hand when Chan asked him.”

“Eww!” She laughed. “Did you eat it?”

“Jeonghan hyung told us to wash it thoroughly and not to tell anyone else. I refrained from eating it though. ”

“Note to self, don’t eat anything if Seokmin oppa didn’t prepare in front of us.”

They both laughed. “What other stories do you want to hear about the boys?” Seungkwan said as he raked his fingers through her hair.

“Hmm, how did you and the boys meet. And no embellishments on the stories. You always over exaggerate everything.” She slightly scolded.

“Me?! Over exaggerate?! I would never!”

. . .

“One iced americano and one hot chocolate with two chocolate croissants, please.” Seungkwan said.

After they got their order, they both sat in a more secluded part of the cafe.

“You know, kwan, you have to stop drinking that vile drink. It tastes so bad.” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows.

“It’s a taste you have to get used to, sweetie. And clearly your childish taste cannot comprehend the complexity of this beautiful drink.” He said with that smug look on his face.

“Kwan, you’re eating a chocolate croissant and I’m having a hot chocolate. If anything hot chocolate has a more complex flavor than that abomination.”

His eyebrows twitched as he said “Oh, is that so?” with a slight irritated smiled.

“Y/n, one day, you’ll understand the wonderful taste that is an americano.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, I know you’ll never let this go.”

“It’s cause I’m right.”

“Sure, you can continue to like your Americano and I’ll continue to like my hot chocolate.”

“You’re totally missing out.”

“I’m not missing much.”

“I’ll be waiting for the day you drink it.”

“That’ll be never. I hate the taste.”

Seungkwan smirked as he leaned forward towards her.

“You may hate the drink, but I love you and your chocolate covered lips.”

She blushed as she touched her lips and felt some chocolate smudge off.

“Y-you idiot! You should’ve told me earlier. You know how many people I smiled at when they walked passed us? I probably looked like an idiot with my face covered in chocolate” She whined as she wiped her lips with a napkin.

“Hey, at least you’re my idiot.” Seungkwan said with a lovesick smile.

“I’m going to kill you one of these days, kwan.”

. . .

“I love you.” Seungkwan said.

It was 12:03 am and all the lights were off. They were on laying his living room floor. The tv was playing songs from their shared playlist and the vibes were perfect. And so naturally Seungkwan said the big three words. She was silent for a bit.

“I like you too.”

“Hey! I said I love you!”

She smiled. “Say it properly, baby.” Seungkwan pouted.

“I did say it. I like you too.”

“Don’t be like that!!” He whined out.

“I’m going to sleep.” She said as she made her way to the bedroom.

“Y/n, say it backkkk.” He whined again as he followed her.

“Good night, kwannie.” She announced as she got comfortable on the bed.

He sighed and pouted his lips. His back was facing her and she silently giggled. She turned around so her chest was pressed against his back.

“I love you more.” She whispered finally.

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romancingdaffodils · 6 months

Text

Love Kills

City Rockers

part two of Love Kills

bassist/rockstar!Remus Lupin x Reader

warnings: swearing and description of blood

The tension between the two of you only seems to build as Remus faces a rather nasty injury. Naturally, you help him out. He gives his thanks in a rather mind boggling way.

haiii did you miss me AGAIN xoxo

thank you so much alex for alll your help on this one means a lot :3

Often it’s said that punks are the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Terrifying on the outside, but lovely on the inside. Clearly, when put into a venue, this philosophy completely disappears. The gig goers habits of unplugging amps and launching glass bottles didn’t seem too lovely at all. In fact, you were quite against the whole idea or at least you were after the incident. However, it could make nights a whole lot interesting. It was what also led to the instruction of don’t get hit. Which then allowed, Remus to completely disobey this command. As a result of this, blood poured down his face. Surged, gushed, streamed. A bottle had collided directly with his head and had clearly left him with with an injury directly above his eye. The crowd went silent before erupting into even louder cheers. Freezing in shock, the soon-to-be-blood soaked man stared directly into the crowd. Immediately, James stopped singing and whipped his head around to the noise. Which, in turn, caused both Sirius and Pete to turn and look over at Remus. Another bang signified the speakers blowing and as the boys started up playing again to try to kill the time, it suddenly dawned on everyone. Amps had been unplugged too; fans had taken the band’s distraction with Remus as an opportunity. Worst first show ever. Praying to whatever gods to give him strength, Remus picked up playing again as Frank rushed around plugging the amps back in.

Anxiously, you bit down on the inside of your cheek as the band pushed through everything going wrong at once. Thankfully, Alice had managed to fix up the speakers relatively fast and was now stood beside you with a similar distressed look on her face. Unfortunately, the man’s determination to continue playing didn’t stop the bleeding. It was everywhere.

Red poppies turned into bloody rivers as the white vest he was wearing became soaked. He had discarded his outer layer of a jumper at some point during the first song, leaving his perfect arms on display. Now hardly seemed like the right time to be thinking about that though. But, your brain didn’t really seem to listen.

Some of the red liquid had caught in the hair that drifted down towards his eyebrows. Drying up in the sandy tuffs, the blood would be difficult to get out; part of you wanted to drag him off stage and patch him up there and then. Push a small kiss to his forehead, and rinse the blood out of his hair. The rest of the substance had meandered at what felt like the speed of light all the way down to his bass. After staining his white clothes it moved onto the white pick-guard on the body of the long instrument. Somehow, Remus seemed to have picked the worst colours for this to happen. Or, you might argue - if he wasn’t a friend in pain - the best colours because he looked practically edible. On a bad day, he looked positively gorgeous. There, he looked like everything you’d ever wanted and more. You’d never felt more guilty for having a crush on someone before then.

Droplets dribbled down from the bass onto the floor and your eyes finally moved to Remus’s face. You’d been able to look at the area of the wound as you found yourself quite fearful it would be serious. Half of his face was doused in blood and one eye was screwed shut, leaving him in a permanent wink. Thankfully, your gushing over Remus had made the show move a lot faster and the end of the encore ripped through everyone: crowd, band and roadies.

Remus was the first off stage.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Remus.” you exclaimed, grabbing hold of his wrist to get him to stop moving. The gushing blood was forcing him into a permanent wink and you winced just looking at the gash. “Sit down, I’ll go get the first aid kit. Fucking hell.” you said, pushing him down onto the couch. Surprisingly, he didn’t fight back. Now, it was your time to scramble. You ran down the corridor and yanked the first aid kit from the cupboard before immediately running back. Crouching down in front of him, you gave your best relaxed smile. He tried his best to return it. Your mind seemed to be a swirling mess of thoughts of how gorgeous Remus actually was and thoughts of how on earth you were going to clean this cut up.

“How bad are we thinking?” he asked, wincing as he spoke. He already had a rather impressive collection of scars dotted around his body; you figured this was nothing new to him.

“Dunno yet, you alright if I clean it up?” you asked, blue paper towels ready and waiting. He nodded his head and you stood up. Slotting yourself between his legs, you used the damp towel to wipe away the blood that had dripped down his face. It was an odd texture, like partially dried nail varnish.

You stared at the cut, checking for any shards of the glass bottle. None were there from what you could see, thank god. They must’ve fallen out during the performance. “So they just, throw bottles? At you? On stage?” you asked, trying to keep him talking as you applied a small amount of pressure. Thankfully, most of the bleeding had stopped by now; it was just a game of preventing the gash from getting infected.

“And unplug amps, and don’t make us famous enough for a better venue. Fuckin’ shit hole.” he replied, staring up at you through his eyelashes. With all the blood cleaned away from his face, he looked up at you with both eyes wide open. You shook your head, giggling quietly. Armed with an antiseptic soaked cotton wool ball, you began cleaning the actual cut

“Sorry, know it stings. Talk to me about something, anything.” his comfort was your top priority. He smiled up at you, shaking his head.

“Know what you’re trying to do, love, don’t need to. You’re not stupid, you can tell I’ve been through this before.” he said, smirking up at you. Resisting the urge to wipe the smug look from his face, you instead give a large frown.

“Just trying to be nice, let me be nice.” you complained, biting down on your lip as you continued to clean the wound.

“You’re being nice enough already.” he stated, plainly.

“You’re so lovely Remus!” you shouted over the bar’s blaring music. A hiccup ricocheted through your body as you giggled up at him.

“Yeah, you want me to get you some water?” he asked, batting his eyelashes at you. Sirius really did always keep his best friends hidden from everywhere else. Remus was entirely certain that the fact he hadn’t met you before that night should be a crime, so much so that he’d never forgive Sirius for it.

“No! You’re being nice enough already.” you stated, staring up at him blankly. He shook his head, but didn’t disobey your command. He thought he might die on the spot if he left you any sooner than needed.

Your face flushed at the sound of your own words being repeated back at you and the fact Remus remembered word for word what you had said to him. He grinned. You frowned.

“Butterfly strips now, aren’t they cute? They’re like stitches but not stitches, dead new too. I thought Sirius would get in a bar fight or something, that’s why I brought them with me, not that you’d be scrapping with glass bottles.” you rambled as you dug around in the tote bag beside you. Some gut instinct had told you to pack them and it must’ve be whatever gut instinct had you swooning over Remus.

“Yeah? They are pretty impressive.” he replied. His eyes held a hint of honesty he’d never admit as he admired your rambling. Remus Lupin could listen to you talk for hours. Remus Lupin, who preferred to spend his pre-show routine alone in silence; who adored the quiet of libraries and the very slight hum of a small cafe; who often had to put himself at the back of the tour bus just to get some peace would happily listen to you babble on about whatever nonsense.

“I know, right? ‘s so cool how they come up with these things. Right, this bit will genuinely hurt so, I’m really sorry in advance.” you said, giving him a sheepish grin. If the antiseptic was the foot soldiers, think of the butterfly strips as being the artillery. Carefully, you slotted yourself back in between his legs. Your hand pushed the two edges of the cut together whilst the other stuck the strips over the stop, a way of holding the wound together. Instinctively, Remus’s hand shot up and grabbed your wrist, eyes closing at the pain.

“All done.” you whispered, but his hand didn’t move from your wrist. Your eyes drifted down to his own as you smiled at him.

“Thank you.” he whispered back to you. His eyes mapped out a triangle on your face, subconsciously. He truly could not get enough; his hand still didn’t move. The silence in the room was unbearable and you were silently begging Remus to do something. Anything. He must’ve heard your pleas somehow because he stood up.

If you weren’t close enough to him before you almost certainly were now. The only thing separating the two of you was his looming height and even then that wasn’t doing much as his head was tilted down. You couldn’t read Remus. The now three very dramatic times you’d met, you’d never been able to read him.

“Happy birthday Sirius!” you shouted as you waltzed into the Potter household. It was your first time there, ever and my god was the place gorgeous. It was easy to forget how privileged one half of the band were. Sirius had grown up rich with a shitty family and in many ways James had won the game of life. Good family with lots and lots of money, which explained the oversized house that sat in the middle of nowhere.

“Awww, thank you. Look how lovely they are.” Sirius said, taking the gift from your hands and immediately running off to open it. ‘Child’ you thought to yourself as you smiled.

“Hello you.” Remus waved as you walked over to the kitchen counter, where everyone else stood. You didn’t notice it, but Lily raised her eyebrow and whispered something to James. The two stared at you and Remus for the rest of the night. He didn’t speak to anyone, but you.

“Hi. Don’t look at me like that.” you said, scowling up at him. He laughed and put his hands up beside his head with a false offended look.

“Look at you like what?” Remus fought back, though his smirk and small gave away what he was thinking. Or, at least you thought it did. He was referencing your drunkenness on the first night you met with that look, Right? You racked your brains, staring up at him with your mouth agape.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking.” you admitted, still looking up at him. He shook his head and gave another smirk.

“Do you need to?” he replied.

He still had a hold on your wrist and something in your stomach twisted. Your mind was blank and everything just felt fuzzy.

“Thank you, really.” he mumbled as his head moved in even closer. His thumb drew small circles on the inside of your wrist.

“Yeah, no- no problem. Honestly, like it’s nothing, I’d happily do it any time.” you rambled, giving him a small grin and your stomach twinged from embarrassment this time. He grinned and let out a small chuckle. You felt his breath fan against your jaw. You bit down on your lip

“Oh, hey guys.” James announced from the doorway. Your head whipped round immediately as you took a step backwards. Wide eyed and horrified, you gulped. Remus seemed, perpetually, unbothered.

“Hi, Prongs.” he returned, pointing to the cut on his head. “All fixed up now, wasn’t too bad.” he added, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah, all fixed up. Can see that. We’re going down to the pub to go have a celebratory drink tomorrow, we’ve got a day here to kill. Think you’ll be up for it?” James asked, looking at both of you. You nodded, sheepishly once again. You knew he knew. He knew you knew. It was an awful trap to be stuck in.

“Sounds good.” Remus said, nodding his head and grabbing his bag from beside the couch. “ ‘m gonna go get changed, see you later, yeah?” he added, looking at you. Only you. And then, he walked off. It felt like you’d been left dangling off of the edge of a cliff.

“Please can I tell Si-“

“Fuck off, James.”

“What about Lily??”

“Maybe.”

#remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #james & peter & remus & sirius #remus x you #marauders band au #marauders era #bassist!remus #james potter #best friend sirius #sirius black

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quills-of-freedom · 1 year

Text

Headcanons ~

Modern AU - How they'd react to seeing you working in a strip club (And they have feelings for you)

Inspired by... well me being an ex-stripper :')

Written as if reader is working there just for some extra cash, not as a living - it'll make sense why I noted this as it goes on.

Reiner - Porco - Eren - Levi

Some music to set the mood 🔥

Reiner

Reiner would never wander into a strip club on his own accord, either being dragged in during a bachelor party or doesn't realise what the establishment actually is. As much as he appreciates the female form, Reiner is too respectful and too much of a softy and a blushing mess.

Get this man some water please, for pity's sake. His face is flushed the entire time he's in there, his eye-line erratic as he avoids sights of thighs, asses, boobs and bare stomachs.

When the dancers come to talk to him for a private dance, he'll politely turn them down, his eyes glueing to theirs, his mouth dry and - oh gosh is he shaking?

He doesn't know it's you being called on stage because well, they use your stage name. But when the lights brighten slightly and he sees you - legit thinks he's been spiked for a moment and is seeing things.

His movements all stop, his lips part and his eyes enlarge when he realises this is actually happening.

"Oh, you like her?" The other girls will say. "She's great, you should get a dance from her."

Excuses himself and heads into the bathroom while you're on stage, splashing his face with cold water. Other patrons in the toilets laugh at him. "Yeah, it's tough out there, huh buddy?"

Once he hears applause he knows you're done and swiftly leaves. This is what gives him the incentive to confess his feelings for you and try to convince you to leave.

I know if Reiner Braun told me he loved me, I'd leave and never look back.

Porco

Porco loves to talk big and will laugh and "banter" with the "lads" but under the surface, he's a lot like Reiner and is pretty shy (at first) when it comes to intimacy.

He's respectful and will enjoy the attention of the dancers but I can't see him ever getting a private dance, if I'm honest.

He avoids his gaze like Reiner but isn't having mini panic attacks about it like his blonde friend.

When he sees you, he freezes and his nose burns pink but quickly regains his composure. He'll walk up to you and tell you to get changed, he's taking you home.

He hasn't drunk too much so he's okay to drive as he takes you towards his house.

"Porco, where are we -" "You should have just told me if you wanted some money." "It's not like that, I can make my own mon-" "We'll talk about it later."

You'll go to his where you have a long conversation into the night, where he admits his feelings for you and fucks you into his bed.

Oh god, I might turn this one into a fic...

Eren

I can't see Eren actively seeking out a "gentleman's" club, but he's not fussed about being in one either.

He turns down private dances politely. He'll have friendly conversations with the dancers but if they keep pushing for money he will turn mean.

He will get a dance if he is totalled though, but he'll sit with a blank face the entire time - unless he was my boyfriend, I don't think I would wanna dance for Eren tbh :')

Has no problem approaching you with a smirk when he sees you. "Woah, I didn't know you worked here. I'd be in every night."

Pays you to talk with him all night (he insists) to keep other men away from you and to warm you up for his confessions of feelings later. If any man stares, he'll shoot a warning look. If anyone is disrespectful, he will throw hands.

He stops drinking so he can take you home after your shift. He takes you to his, confesses his feelings, convinces you to stop and gives you the best sex of your life until you can no longer walk.

Levi

There's no way Levi would knowingly go into a club. Let alone a nude one. He's either been tricked or he wasn't aware. "Little black book...? I thought this was a fuckin' Library." "Levi... what library is open at 2am with thumping music?!"

Is not amused. DO NOT try to get a private dance. Oh god, he will make you cry if you try to.

Once he sees you, he'll snarl and straight up grab you and tell you to get changed, he's taking you home.

You have to beg the bouncers not to all leap onto him.

Scolds you, so bad. But explains it's only because he cares. It's not the profession it's the people it attracts.

Again, best sex of your life.

#reiner brainrot #reiner x you #snk x reader #reiner x reader #porco x reader #levi ackerman #levi smut #levi x you #eren jeager x reader #attack on titan eren #eren smut #eren jaeger

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hellfireclubmember · 2 years

Text

Pretty Girl II

a/n: okay, I am so sorry this took so long. I'm afraid this might not be as good as the first part but the more I look at and make changes the more I hate it so I decided I should just post it.

warnings: again none tbh, maybe like slow burn? nervous touches and pining. fluff. OH and maybe some spelling mistakes, I told my friend to proof read it for me but that mf can barely read, I don’t trust him

word count: 1.6k

summary: Dustin wouldn't shut up about the sub he got to fill in for Lucas and now that Steve has seen her, he understands why.

!!read part one here!! !!read part three here!!

You stood at the entrance of Steve Harington’s house. You were inside Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington’s car and now you were in his house. This has to be the weirdest day of your life. Your eyes roamed around the white walls of the lavish home. There were framed pictures of Steve littered around. You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you tried to look at each one of them. There were baby photos, pictures of him in middle school and some of him playing basketball at Hawkins High. You were so distracted admiring the photos you didn’t notice that both Dustin and Robin were already making their way deeper into the home.

Steve however was distracted by you, watching the way the corners of your lips curved upward into that pretty smile he loved to see and the cute glint in your eyes as you looked around his house. You didn’t look real to him, every time he looked at you his stomach felt like he was on some sort of carnival ride. Steve couldn’t believe you both spent three years in high school together without him really noticing you and now you seemed to be the only thing he could notice.

“(y/n)?” His voice was soft, trying his best not to spook you. A dumb grin spread on his face when you made eye contact with him. “Wanna help me get the snacks?” Steve pat himself on the back in his head for figuring out a way to spend some time with you without the peanut gallery.

The second you nodded your head he started walking toward the kitchen, stopping every few steps to make sure you were following him.

“You have a really nice house.” You finally worked up the courage to speak.

“Thank you, I like it too.” God dammit Steve, be cool man.

You tried to bite back a smile, watching him run his hand through his perfectly coifed hair.

“Alright, I’ll grab the bowls.” Steve said as you both walked through the entrance of the kitchen. “The chips and candy are in the pantry, grab ‘em for me?”

The command was phrased more like a question and you thought about how you would do anything he said, immediately scolding yourself for being wrapped around his finger after just a few nice words. “Yes, sir.”

Steve felt his hands get a little sweaty, he couldn’t believe he’s fought demogorgons and demodogs, and all it took for him to get clammy hands and a dry mouth was a pretty girl. He hastily put the bowls down, trying his best to not let them slip from his grip. He had to wipe the palms of his hands on his jeans like some middle schooler who was talking to his crush for the first time.

He cleared his throat. “You know, Dustin wouldn’t shut up about you after that DND game.” He watched you fill your arms with all the snacks and put them on the counter with a little huff. Your focus on him now.

“Really?”

“Yeah, almost strangled him to keep him quiet.” He chuckled, grabbing a bag of chips and filling one of the glass bowls. “But now I get it.” He looked up at you right on time to watch you freeze, starting to fiddle with your fingers. He had a smug look on his face, relieved to see he had some effect on you.

“I hope he was saying nice things.” You grabbed another bag in an attempt to keep your hands busy but you struggled to actually open it.

“The nicest, said you were the coolest chick around.” He popped a chip in his mouth and leaned forward on the kitchen island to get a better look at you. “He called you pretty too but I don’t think he did you any justice.”

As the last words came out of his mouth, the chip bag in your hand popped open and ripped. The salty snack flying into the air, some of them landing in your hair, most landing on the floor. You felt as if time had stopped. You couldn’t believe you had just done that.

“Oh, Steve I’m so sorry!” You got on your knees to start cleaning the mess you had made. Steve quickly kneeling in front of you, putting his hand on top of yours to get you to stop.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He looked you in the eyes. “I can just sweep this up.” Steve smiled and dusted the chips off the top of your head, chuckling to himself.

Your shoulders slumped over in embarrassment. “I hope Dustin never said anything about me being graceful.”

“What do you mean? I think you have loads of grace.” He was smiling at you with so much affection he could almost hear Robin making fun of him.

Even so, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you; you were magnetic. You made him feel all giddy and he missed feeling this way.

“You make me so nervous.” You whispered. Steve watched you look down at your hands with a small frown on your face. He so badly wanted to lean forward and kiss the frown lines off your forehead.

“If it makes you feel any better, you make me nervous too.”

“I make Steve Harrington nervous?”

“More like you make Steve Harrington crazy.”

You couldn’t hold back the smile on your face. You were really hoping that if this was a dream no one would pinch you because you really didn’t want to wake up.

Both of you too wrapped up in looking at each other, neither of you noticing Dustin walking into the kitchen. When he looked around his eyebrow furrowed in confusion. Seeing you both on the floor, surrounded by a bunch of potato chips.

“What the hell happened in here?” The moment was broken by Dustin’s voice. Steve rolled his eyes; he was going to hurt the little idiot later for sure. “Robin sent me in here to tell you both to speed it up with the food, but I see you guys are too busy looking into each other’s eyes.” A knowing smirk on his arrogant little face.

“Whatever, man. We’ll be there in five.” Steve answered. The younger boy walking back out into the living room whilst you and Steve got up from the floor.

“Where’s the broom?” You asked. “I’ll clean this up.”

“Don’t worry about it, pretty girl. I’ll do it.” Steve said, walking towards a closet. “You should take the snacks to the monsters in the living room before they start breaking things.” He called out over his shoulder.

You did as you were told, grabbing the food in both hands and making your way to where Robin and Dustin had been waiting. You could hear Dustin talking as you got closer. “… they were just on the floor… oh hey (y/n).” The boy looked up at you like he had been caught.

Robin grabbed a bowl out of your hand. “Nice of you to stop flirting with Steve long enough to bring us food.” Robin joked with a mouthful of Doritos.

“Shut up, Buckley.” In walked Steve. He sat down next to Dustin, making the only seat available the one at the corner of the brown leather couch, right next to him. He looked up at you with a grin fixed on his face, watching you nervously sway as he pats the seat next to him. You felt like every time he smiled at you your heart beat a little stronger in your chest. You hesitated before taking your seat, trying your best to keep your breathing even.

“Alright, someone play the damn movie.” Steve spoke as he put his legs on the wooden coffee table in front of the couch.

You were so tense, your body rigid as you felt your shoulder touch Steve’s. The butterflies in your stomach were no longer fluttering, they were on having a rave. When the movie started playing it finally gave you a chance to pay attention to something other than the warmth radiating off Steve’s body.

Twenty minutes in and the movie was finally getting a little scary. People being chased by a masked killer who always seemed to be walking but somehow was fast enough to catch and gruesomely murder people. You watched the characters in the movie slowly walk around the house, trying not to make a sound when without any warning the killer appeared in front of them, making you jump, instinctively grabbing Steve’s hand for safety.

When you realized what you had done you quickly placed your hand back on your lap. “I’m sorry.” You whispered so only Steve could hear.

He grabbed your hand again and interlaced your fingers. “It’s okay.” He whispered back.

Your body was covered in goosebumps at the feeling of your hand in his. You looked at the side of his face as he stared at the screen, pretending like he had done nothing out of the ordinary. Like he’s not making you feel like you’re floating outside of your body.

You looked down at your intertwined fingers. “Your hands are soft.” You mumbled more to yourself than to Steve.

“Yeah?” He looked down at your eyes, smile wide.

It was your turn to look forward, a stupid smile of your own spread on your face, making the bold move to lay your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah.”

taglist: @wh0reforbucknasty @somerandomasgardian @bubblebuttwade @johnricharddeacy

#stranger things fluff #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #robin buckley #eddie munson x reader #billy hargove x reader #eddie munson x you #billy hargrove #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff

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