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abouttofillhisshoes · 1 day

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Do you wanna dance? - Matty Healy

A/N: i couldn't help myself, these two deserve to be happy forever and ever xx

this is a part two to this request i did earlier, but can also be read separately!!

wc: 3k

content warnings: mentions of drugs (weed), cursing, typical MPIND banter, kissing, a touch suggestive?

May, 2009

“I’m so fucking boreddd, kill me now.” you drag your feet on the ground, letting yourself be pulled along by Matty, his hand tightly clasped against yours. He rolls his eyes, begging you to walk properly, and that you would find something to do soon.

“Carolines?” he suggests, pointing in the general direction of the old paper factory, it being maybe a 25 minutes walk from where you were currently at. You raise your eyebrows at him, a skeptical look on your face. “Really?” you ask, whining about how your feet hurt and you didn't want to walk any further.

“Pretty please, I promise I'll make it worth your while.” he lowers his voice, winking at you cheekily. A groan leaves your lips, and you shove him off to the side, taking a swig from a freshly opened bottle of cheap tesco wine.

“I’d do alot for you,” you burp, making Mattys face scrunch up in disgust “but i am not shagging you on a terrace, not a chance in fuck.” he laughs like music to your ears, a gross snort slipping out.

You suggest calling your other mates, inviting them for a few drinks on the balcony, just like old times. That small platform just off the main office held dear memories, good and bad. Matty immediately shakes his head, bringing your hand away from the phone in your pocket. “Just you and me, no one else.” He sounds different, you couldn't quite place it.

“Carry me.” you joke, pressing a dramatic hand to your forehead. Imagine your surprise when you feel a firm hand press against your back, and another wrap around the back of your knees, hauling you up. Your hip hits the bare skin on Mattys chest, another ‘stylistic’ choice of his, only being covered in a thin, see through black shirt.

“Jesus, fuck, let me down!!” you scream, attempting to push him away.

All he does is giggle at your struggle, only pulling you closer, planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“D’you think I'm too weak to carry you?” you huff, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m too heavy, you’ll proper hurt yourself-” he laughs again, almost in disbelief. “Oh, come off it, I'm pretty strong, you know!” you roll your eyes, shooting him a worried look. He nods, leaning in to give you what you think is another kiss.

Instead, he fucking licks across your face, making you squirm away at the odd feeling.

“Perv.” you spit, turning your head away from him. He nuzzles his face into your freshly curled hair, humming contentedly as he starts walking down the sidewalk. You notice him adjusting his hands a few times, trying to get a better grip, so you ask to be let down. He refuses, like he’s trying to prove something to someone. It was no use, he was going to see this through, apparently.

It was wet, the rain from a few hours prior making everything smell like damp concrete. It was barely sunset, the sky painted several shades of blue, purple and orange, clouds sparsely littering the sky. Trees were finally starting to green again, and the warm air kissed your skin, warning you of the hot summer to come. It was late May, breezy and comfortable, even if it was pissing it down most of the time, you didn't mind it, rarely getting sick anyway.

The back entrance was covered by stacks of cardboard, soggy and flimsy from the rain. Matty tries to set you down gracefully onto a rock nearby, miserably failing as when trips over his own feet, sending you both flying down onto the soft, grassy ground.

Laughing at the stumble, he kisses you while you're still under him, gripping your cheeks between his fingertips. The moment doesn't last long, wet dirt sullying the back of your shirt, making you whine like a small child. He reluctantly rolls off you, offering a hand to help you stand. Wobbly on your very impractical heels, Matty takes a jab at your choice of footwear.

“Who wears heels to go walk around? You've got fucking ankles of steel or something, thats mad.” he laughs, gesturing at your red platforms, thin straps the only thing keeping them attached to your feet.

“They’re platforms.” you correct him “You’d know that, if you knew anything ever. Fuck you, you’re just jealous i’m taller now.” It was true, you towered slightly over him, even if only a few inches, it gave you a sense of power.

Twirling your hair around your fingers, you let Matty lead you up the stairs, hand firmly gripping your wrist. His nails were painted black to match, though they were significantly more chipped than yours, the nail polish peeling off in chunks.

Still, you found it endearing how he always wanted to use the things you did, whether it be makeup, clothes, even colors. What was yours was his, and what was his was yours, evident au cause de the blue top you were wearing. The stupid tourist shirt, his prized possession.

The wind had died down a bit by the time you reached the smashed glass door leading to the terrace. Ross had managed to fall through it one night, absolutely wrecked off half a bottle of tito’s, no mixer. The four of you spent hours afterwards trying to pick small shards of glass out of a blacked out Ross, utterly convinced he was dying of alcohol poisoning. Fucking drama queen.

Orange light floods the terrace, painting the worn down sofa in a warm hue. Matty smirks slightly as he plops down onto it, patting the space beside him, asking a silent question. You smile, the sight of him making your heart swell up with love. God, he looked beautiful, it was almost too much. Thicker chunks of his hair were now dyed blonde, streaks of pink peeking through. Impulse decision, though a good one, the bit of color really suited him.

“You got any?” he asks, tucking both his hands behind his head, spreading his legs, his shirt riding up slightly. A suggestion.

“What do you take me for?” you giggle, already pulling out your weed. He never brought his own, insisting that if you wanted to roll them yourself, you’d also buy it. His logic was deeply flawed, but honestly, you loved him too much to tell him.

Rolling the spliff, flashes of memories flip through your mind, you hear Hann’s voice.

‘Girls don't roll their own spliffs’ God, he was such a dickhead.

“Girls don’t roll their own spliffs.” you giggle, grinning at Matty as you lick it closed, admiring your work. George had given you a few tips, and you’d actually gotten better. Mattys angelic laugh fills your ears, bouncing off the concrete walls.

“Fuck yeah, I'm your girl.” he says proudly, brushing tangled curls out of his face, slightly more tan than usual, the sun having branded his fair skin. Your eyes roll of their own accord, and you nudge him with your elbow, muttering quietly.

“Shut up mate, honestly.” he lets out a dramatic gasp at your words, pressing a hand to his chest is faux shock.

“Do mates do this?” You jump as he snatches the spliff out of your hand, grabbing your face just like he did on the grass before, pressing a hot kiss right beside your mouth, just missing it. Biting back a moan, you feel his tongue slip past your lips, running across your own.

“Okay, fuck off now, thanks.” you smile, unable to stop yourself. Not when he looked at you with such joy, eyes glimmering in the warm light.

He hands the joint back to you, your hands brushing against each other. It felt loving, purposeful, real.

Grabbing the lighter from your right pocket, you run your fingers across the worn rhinestone, fondly remembering the day he’d made it for you.

The way he was reluctant at first, only giving in after you physically dragged him through the doors of the hobby shop, forcing him to pick out decorations. His concentrated expression as he tried to pick off the cheap stones, having to let you help him do it after numerous failed attempts. It was one of your favorite days with him, wishing you could relive it a thousand times over.

Laying back, you hold it in front of you, rotating it over the flame to get an even burn. The smell flooding your senses, you close your eyes, bringing the spliff to your lips. Inhaling deeply, you feel Matty shuffle next to you, shifting and making the sofa creak under him. You try to ignore it, keeping your eyes shut as you feel the drug hit your system, a warm, weightless sensation enveloping you. It was when he moved for the third time that you snapped your eyes open, going to complain.

“Christ, will you stop moving around like tha-” your words get caught in your throat, dying out.

He wasn't in the spot next to you anymore. No, he was on the floor. On the floor, on one knee, holding a small, red velvet box in his right hand. Your breath hitches as you notice the expression on his face. Anxiety. You could speak, hell, you could barely fucking think. Matty was in front of you, kneeling, holding a white diamond that was shimmering in the light, like a goddamn dream.

You watch as he opens his mouth to speak several times, closing it before any sound comes out. His eyes fill with panic as you sit up, eyes wide in shock. He was proposing. Properly proposing, with a ring and everything, down on one knee. You’re convinced this is a dream, of a fucking hallucination, something more believable than what was actually happening in front os you.

“Marry me?” he forces out, hand slightly shaking as you look him up and down, mouth completely dry. You felt tears stream down your face. Obviously, with Matty not being able to read your mind, his eyes dart around your features, trying to gauge what your reaction meant.

“Holy shit, what the fuck is wrong with you.” are the first words you say, hands coming up to shield your face. The panic only grew as he tries to speak, only things coming out being bits of words and ‘sorry’.

Shaking your head violently, you reach out your hand, presenting your ring finger. Tears well up in Mattys own eyes, dangerously close to rolling down his puffy cheeks.

“Yes, oh my god, I fucking love you so much.” you scream, bouncing off your spot on the sofa, lunging towards a very emotional Matty. You catch his lips in a kiss, wrapping your arms around him tightly, not daring to let go

“Really? You’ll marry me?” he says in genuine disbelief, his left hand gripping your lower back, pulling you close.

“Of course i’ll marry you Matty, christ.” he pushes you away, giddily slipping the silver ring onto your ring finger, planting a soft kiss to the metal.

“Fucking hell that is a boulder.” you look at the diamond in awe, the stone basically blinding you. He grins from ear to ear, grabbing the fabric of your top, kissing you softly, a gentle warmth spreading throughout your body as your lips make contact.

“Only the best for my wife.” giggles leave his lips, delirious and ecstatic, disbelief still evident in the way his eyes rake over you, settling on the ring. Pressing a hand to your cheeks, he thumbs the tears away, kissing all over your face. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, threatening to burst out of your chest.

“Bit early, innit?” you comment, sucking in a deep breath, eyes glued to Mattys. You're both on your knees, concrete digging into the skin of your legs. It was cold, uncomfortable, but you truly couldn't care less.

“Never too early, Mrs. Healy” he smirks in that cheeky way of his, both hands settling onto your shoulder, rubbing small shapes into your skin. The moment doesn't feel real, nothing does. You hope to god that this isn't a dream, that that this was really happening.

“Can Hann be the flower girl?” your inability to be serious for five fucking seconds shines through, the both of you falling into each others arms, uncontrollably laughing. Mattys eyes crease as he giggles, the feel of his hands on your body is heavenly, l of his hands touching your skin makes you truly believe you've reached a higher plane of existence.

“Only if he wears the dress.”

“Deal.” you say, knowing well that getting Adam Hann into a dress would require months of begging, maybe even bribery. You would probably need to buy him a fucking house to get him to even consider it.

More laughter, more kissing, more planning a future neither of you had ever actually thought possible. A future with each other.

Matty fumbles around in his pockets, pulling out his Ipod, initials erratically scratched into the metal. You raise your eyebrows at him, asking a silent question of ‘what the fuck?’

“Do you wanna dance?” he asks, smirking at you as he swiftly stands up, extending his hand. This is so incredibly cliché, and you know that yourself, but you can't bring yourself to care.

His fingers press one earphone into your ear, before doing the same to his own. He smiles sweetly, expression softening. This was true, raw, unbridled love.

“Can I choose the song?” you ask, fingers trailing down Mattys jaw as he settles his hands onto your waist. Nodding, he hands you the Ipod, letting you select whatever you wanted.

“I love you so much, my darling girl.” he mumbled into your hair, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Stop being such a sap,” you laugh, quickly adding a “I love you too.” as to not offend him. As if he would be offended.

Suffragette City blared through the headphones, the music filling every corner of your being. Your hips swayed, and so did his, guiding you lightly with the hands gripping you tightly.

You didn't speak, letting Matty spin and twirl you around, breaking out into fits of laughter when you almost tripped over your ridiculous heels. Fuck, they were really a bad idea.

Stopping for a second, you reach down to unclasp your shoes, kicking them off without a second thought.

“Already taking your clothes off? We haven't even said our vows yet-” he teases, being met with a sharp look and a hand threaded into his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“Don't ruin the moment, you wanker.” you mutter against his lips, licking into his mouth as you let him take back control of your movements.

You don't know how long you dance for, but by the time the two of you finally come up for air, the sun had almost completely disappeared behind the tall buildings of the city.

Your life together flashes through your mind. That very first kiss. That night in The Sound. Ruby. The drugs. The lighter, smashed into little bits. Your fight with the guys. The night he had called you, shaking and crying, scared. The photos. The sight of him, down on one knee.

This was it. Everything that had happened; every mistake, every fight, every passionate kiss, every gasp of pleasure when skin met skin, every tear shed since that night at the bus stop had been leading up to this final moment.

You and Matty,

Matty and you

Forever.

Properly this time

The music faded, the sound of rainfall pattering loudly against the metal roof replaced it.

A Suffragette City, A Suffragette City

Quite all right

A Suffragette City

Too fine

A Suffragette City, ooh, A Suffragette City

Oh, my Suffragette City, oh my Suffragette City

Ah, Suffragette

Suffragette!

#i actually cried during this #its so sweet #no smut for once surprise surprise #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy angst #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfiction #the 1975 smut

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aleenuhs · 2 days

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Arthur comforting crying/ upset reader

𖦹 Always Here

thank u anon <3

word count: 1,099

paring: Arthur x GN!reader

a lil bit of angst if u will.

You had accompanied Arthur, Charles, and Sadie on an outing to Saint Denis, to go play some poker at the Saloon.

Sadie had forced you to go, though you'd wanted to stay at camp finishing up your chores for the night.

But you went.

It was crowded and stuffy in the room, sitting across from the table they were playing at, eating some of the beef jerky you had in your pocket. A bit bored, you looked at the people in the room just watching, careful not to stare because people were easily offended by the gaze of another human being.

Arthur and the others were fully engrossed in their gameplay, which you'd opted out of cause you never understood it, or liked it for that matter. You wanted to go back to camp, not be here with a bunch of drunk men and working girls.

Your eyes fluttered, through all the noise, you somehow fell asleep for a bit.

When you woke back up, you were still sitting in the same chair. Surprisingly, you weren't robbed or anything bad.

You looked around the room again, spotting the table that Arthur, Charles and Sadie were once playing at, and they weren't there. Your heart rate immediately spiked, had they left without you?

You sprung up from the chair that you were sitting at and walked outside to see if they were out there, no clue where they'd went from the time you were awake, till now, not to mention, how long had you been asleep?

You walked around, in search for any of them, and no luck.

You knew Shady belle was within walking distance from where you were, but it was dangerous. And you didn't have your horse, so you couldn't ride back. The worst part was that they'd forgotten all about you, Sadie and Charles. But worst of all, Arthur had forgotten. It made you slightly angry that your own significant other would do such a thing. You walked up to a random person, who you saw had a pocket watch.

"Mister?" You spoke quietly, tapping him on the shoulder.

The man looked you up and down, before nodding.

"You know what time it is?"

"1:20."

Your eyes widened, "1:20, thank you." You repeated before walking off, damn it was late.

No stagecoaches were out at this time of night. What could you even do?

You walked around for a moment before you were met with a overwhelming urge to just walk all the way back to Shady Belle.

So you did. Holding yourself, as it was cold, you walked all the way back, shivering slightly. The tears left your eyes, but you didn't sob, no, they were silent tears.

When you arrived after 30 minutes of walking, you immediately walked into the house and went up to Arthurs room and stood before the bed, watching him sleep. he woke up to you. You looked wrecked, tear stained cheeks and bleary eyes, he could hardly see with just the small lantern lighting up the room.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up next to you. "Why aren't you in bed?" He asked, obliviously, maybe he was drunk.

You wanted to yell at him, but instead your words came out in a soft tone. "You left me, Arthur."

His eyes went back to their cold gaze. "Huh?"

"What is not to understand, Arthur? You left me at the saloon in Saint Denis!" Your words were more charged now, but not exactly yelling, just a bit more angry you felt.

"Jesus... Im sorry, I didn't mean to- er.. Leave you there darlin'." His eyes widening after he realized just what he had did. He gets up and puts his hands on your shoulders, and with this. You start to cry.

You don't even lift your head up to look at him, you play with your fingers.

His eyes fixed on how broken you looked, tears streaming down your face, he hardly knew what to do.

"I am so sorry." He speaks, almost silent. He brings you in, hugging you tightly, his big arms wrapped around you made you feel slightly better. But not entirely.

"I had to walk here, Arthur." You murmured.

His breath hitched. "Nobody... did anythin' to you, right?" He would curse himself if you said yes, but luckily, you shook your head. He sighed a breath of relief. "Good, but I truly am sorry, that I left you there, that we left you there."

You didn't respond, the tears still falling from your eyes. His warmth surrounds you, almost overheating your body. "Arthur promise me this won't happen again."

He looked at you, "I promise to try, I never intended for this to happen." He notices your lip trembling, he brings you even closer. "C'mere." He lays down on the bed signaling for you to join him there.

You hesitate for a moment, but end up laying right next to him, you nuzzled yourself right into his neck and sighed deeply. His calloused hand reached up to your face, fingers on your chin. "Look at me, darlin." He spoke softly, a difference in his voice, the voice that was usually brash and loud was somehow comforting you as you cried. "I love you, so much."

A smile reached your lips when he told you that. "I love you too."

"I will always be here for you, I can't believe I let myself do what I did back there." He admits. "I'm sure Sadie and Charles meant no harm by it as well."

You nod, knowing that there was no mailce behind this.

His hand runs up and down your back, soothing you, calming you down, taking away all your worries. He adjusted you, making sure that you were more than comfortable with him. He just held you.

At once, you were just sniffling, no more tears to shed. He had calmed you down, one of the only people who could.

He was truly the definition of duality, he could go from brutal to plain out kind and caring, and it was all for you. Everything he did, was for you, so you didn't have to worry. You could imagine that he was still constantly cursing himself now that he'd left you at the saloon, then walk all the way back to Shady Belle by yourself.

But now that you were safe in his arms, all those worries went away. "Shhh, shh. Rest, you can sleep now." He cooed, rubbing your neck and placing kisses on your forehead and nose.

You fell asleep shortly after.

a/n if u enjoyed it, smash the like and subscribe! jk, feel free to req more honey!

#red dead redemption 2 #fluff #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr

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t0ast-ghost · 3 days

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S3 episode 4 (And The Children Shall Lead) I'll explain what happened to episode 3 under the cut of this post.

Start here:

- The three of them beaming down together is a good start

- Guys they're not dead!… they’re just sleepy

- Kirk is not amused

- As much as I want to believe Kirk would be good with children, it’s proven (canonically) he is not

- “I am getting a feeling of anxiety in this place.” This reminds me of a good omens line. If ya know, ya know.

- I love nurse chapel. The medical department being good with kids is heartwarming

- Is this a Peter Pan situation? (edit: nope)

- So why are the kids chanting and summoning an entity? Let's not have to call the exorcist.

- “Have Dr. McCoy report to my quarters.” Yeah…?

- We get to watch Sulu press buttons and turn dials :)

- Uhura’s double take

- “You’re losing control of yourself, sir.” “Not yet.” Scotty then proceeds to fight two guys and get knocked out

- “The enemy from within!” Previous episode mention

- That’s horrific. The children controlling their parents caused them to die on Triacus. Star Trek can write some pretty fucked up shit actually. But it doesn't deal with the consequences.

- McCoy’s opinion is outnumbered two to one again so he just storms out

- They just beamed those two redshirts out into space…

- “Friendly angel come to me.”

youtube

- Kirk and Spock share a look like, ‘what the fuck is going on’

- Spell that makes you see knives in space

- Poor Uhura. No one wants to see their own death, but amazing acting

- “Captain, why are we bothering starfleet?” Spock too? Kirk you gotta go find McCoy, maybe he’ll be talking some sense

- So why haven’t I seen anyone talk about this?

- “My Vulcan friend.” Yep Kirk. Reassert your friendship.

- Spock grabs Kirk’s arm to reassure him

- WOAH! He jumped to killing kids way too fast (worst case scenario stun or hypo them! Jesus)

- Kirk has had to remind himself that it’s not okay to punch a child a few too many times in this episode (I can see it in his eyes)

- He’s playing the video of all the kids playing with their parents on Triacus and they’re smiling but I’m expecting Kirk to just say ‘and now.. your parents are dead.’ - omg they really did just switch suddenly to their DEAD PARENTS. No remorse.

- This episode is fucking devastating

- Bones is going to come back from wherever the fuck he is and just, 'Jim, I specifically told you not to traumatize these kids.'

- The ‘angel’ dying is fucking horrifying

Now everything’s fine and dandy. Not like the entire bridge just went through major mind fuck of an ordeal or anything

Masterpost

Episode written by Edward J. Lakso

So I didn't actually watch episode 3, I watched around 15 minutes and then said, 'I really just don’t want to watch this episode. So I won’t.'

Only thoughts from this episode that I'm gonna mention are:

- The reason that they didn't let Spock point out the pine trees is because he would have said their scientific name

- “Typical human reaction to an idyllic natural setting.” McCoy says this with so little bite towards Spock, like he’s actually having a conversation with him and explaining what it is. AHH

- They could have easily left McCoy on the planet to search for Jim while Spock goes to divert the asteroid. If being alone was the issue they could've beamed down a security officer/team

Other than that... there's nothing. Sorry Margaret Armen.

#Youtube #star trek #star trek the original series #star trek tos #captain james kirk #tos kirk #spock #s'chn t'gai spock #tos spock #leonard bones mccoy #tos mccoy #tos bones #hikaru sulu #tos sulu #nyota uhura #tos uhura

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lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 4 hours

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Prompt request- 6 and 18?

6. Why are you completely drenched?

18. Is he always like this?

I hope you like this!💜

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The store was quiet tonight. Usually, it was filled with young teens trying to decide what movie to watch or young couples in search of a good flick to put on. Now, it was quiet. The only noise audible was the static coming from the dozen television screens showing clips from several movies.

It was weird for it to be so quiet on a Friday night, but in all honesty, I couldn't really be bothered. Maybe if it stayed this quiet, I could go home early and have some time for myself. I sighed as I leaned on the counter, staring at the boardwalk. The sign on the door clearly said open - on the right side, I checked that one twice already - and even the door was propped open. The boardwalk itself was quite busy, but hardly anyone even looked towards the store. I sighed as I flipped through a magazine, finding the reason: some big-time artist was performing down the beach. That explained a lot. It would also mean that afterwards it would get busy.

"Jesus, you look like a walking depression!"

I looked up with an annoyed glare. Paul stood in the doorway, blocking any potential customer from entering.

"I do not. I look like an exhausted and bored customer service worker."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

I laughed, causing him to grin. He stepped into the store, a loud sloshing sound following him with every step he took. I frowned, looking at him.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. I looked at him, then at his clothes and realised in the bright light of the store that he was soaking wet.

"Why are you completely drenched?" I asked, slightly panicking. Max would not be happy with this...

"I fell in the ocean."

"You fell? In the ocean?"

He nodded, jumping up to sit on the counter. I quickly pushed him off, earning an annoyed 'Hey!'.

"No, listen - you get the whole store wet, and I am the one that gets to clean it and gets to deal with an angry Max."

"He wouldn't get angry with you."

"He would, Paul. Either get out of the store or help dry everything off."

"I'll go!"

With that, he left, leaving a long wet trail behind. I sighed as I searched in the back for a mop and a bucket. That asshole. Sure, I was no longer bored, but I preferred being bored over cleaning up someone else's mess. I found the mop in the corner of the broomcloset and made my way back out on the floor. With an annoyed and tired sigh, I got to work, quickly cleaning up the wet footprints.

"Have you seen Paul?"

I jumped, almost kicking the bucket I'd used to empty the mop in over the floor. David stood in front of me.

"Hold on," I said as I grabbed the bucket and placed it on the counter, quickly calming myself down. It was a miracle how someone who wore that kind of boots could make so little noise.

"Well?"

"Yeah. He was here."

"What did he do this time?"

He must have picked up on my mood - although that wasn't that difficult to do. I motioned towards the - clean - wet floor and the mop leaning against the counter.

"Is he always like this?" I asked. Surely, he wasn't, right?

"Chaotic and an asshole?"

"You said it, not me."

"He is."

I nodded. It was good to know that I wasn't anything personal anyway.

"He's also very adamant to visit you every night."

"I see all of you each night." I countered - they always came in to bother Max.

"He comes in for you."

"Why?"

"Ask him. Not my thing to tell."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "You're just as much an asshole as he is, you know that?"

David just grinned, a sudden unpredictability in his eyes. "I'm worse, darling."

I shivered. "Well, if you do find Paul, could you tell him to come back?"

David nodded as he lit a cigarette. I decided not to mention anything about it. That was a Max problem - if he didn't want anyone to smoke in his store, he should enforce that rule with the most problematic customers, and not the customer service worker working for a minimum wage.

He left the store, and I finished cleaning up Paul's mess. It got me wondering, though, why was he so adamant about coming here each night and talking to me? None of the other boys really paid much attention, but Paul? Besides the obvious tomfoolery in his act, he was quite sweet. One time, he'd gotten me dinner when he realised I forgot to eat. He always checked up on me, even stepped in one time when I had a difficult customer. And I always did like to see him. It did cheer me up. It did make me feel more relaxed. So, I thought to myself, if he comes in here and I ask him why and he tells me he likes me - maybe I actually like him too?

#the lost boys #marko #david #paul #dwayne #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #star #the lost boys x reader #paul tlb #paul x reader #tlb david

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buck-yyyy · 10 months

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after two weeks of relative freedom regarding what i eat, when i eat, when i shower, when i go to bed, what i want to do with my time, etc etc, spending this next week in a hotel room with my parents is going to be fucking Rough

#they’ve already gotten nitpicky about my eating habits and how much time i spend in bed and how much i’ve been sleeping andoh my fucking god #like. we got out of the car and went up to the hotel and i immediately got in bed because i was cold as shit #and my mom immediately started fretting about how i’ll spend too much time in bed in college and how she worries about me taking care of #myself on my own despite my repeated explanation that i was literally just cold and looking for somewhere to pass the time #like. it’s appreciated but mom. mother. madre. it is slightly overbearing please ;-;#and goddd the fuckin comments about food are NOT helping #like hi mom! please for the love of god stop saying you’re terrified about what i’m going to eat when you’re not there to supervise!#i already managed to halfway starve myself UNDER your supervision without you knowing and i’m fine now but jesus christ it is not helping #when you’re constantly telling me that i can’t go eat something ‘because you don’t need it’ even though it’s my time money and body #just. AGH #i sound like a whiney teenager i know but god i am. just. two days back with them and i already need a break #tw ed #tw ed mention

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hauntingblue · 1 month

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NAMI HAS TAKEN ACTION!!! LETSGOOOOO

#when is uta gonna physically fight luffy..... it's just a matter of time #shanks planning on coming back?? its been 84 years.... that probably was only said to makino bc he is trying to sway her.... girl run...#'that's our local sea beast' so he just hangs out??? well fuck me #luffy was just fucking around about the making a new era and look what happened.... apollo blessed him....#the sun god omg.... nika..... ahdahsaj i ws fucking around with that too HAJSHAJA #oh no shit he does actually come back.... i thought this was the same time... omg... THAT'S EVEN SKETCHIER!!!#thinking luffy wss just here alone depressed in foosha and ace was there alone depressed on the forest too...... 🥺🥺🥺#ohhhh little luffy....... like i know she is not dead but something happened..... what....#oh it might seem like she died... elegia destroyed bc of shanks??? what is that and tot music (sounds like catalan meaning all music to me)#beckman has haki too? like zoro........#SHE HAS BEEF WITH SHANKS?? SEE HOW HE IS SKETCHY!! WHATS WITH THAT FACE???#i need to make my evil shanks cosnpiracy board but that whill be implied on my other bigger conspiracy board i am sure #talking tag #watching one piece #episode 1030 #zeus got free... its namis turn...#usopp and nami being strong and brave for tama..... exactly.....#and so they meet again..... oh new break with momo.......#otama tamed big mom too omg ajdhajshaja prometheus saying she enters mom mode with kids under 10 AHDHAJSHAJ #no way big mom is turning on kaido for this.... SHE KNOWS RYUO TOO??? SHE IS NOT TOUCHING HIM OMG #goodbye page one... jesus.... now his sister..... damn #damn. wasnt expecting all that. now nami can take zeus either way hehe #episode 1031 #when are we gonna get ad breaks for the rest of the crew.... we get it zoro and luffy are important.... okay....#sanji carrying zoro.... here we go....#PEROSPERO????? DIEEEE!!!! WHERE IS CARROT???#komachiyo..... TAMAA!!!!! usopp tells nami to take her and run.... NAH!!!! FUCK HER SHIT UP!!!!!!#nami finally fighting omg i have been waiting for this moment #episode 1032

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myownprivatcidaho · 1 year

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whats tough about like. Having Chemistry and spending time with someone at the start of the spring semester is that valentines day is coming up and its like a make or break point with what you may or may not Be and you have to question what direction things are headed in and its a pressure just Not present in the fall semester idk. idk

#we uhhhh. kinda hit a bump in the road ...... idk.#hes. been very gentle and kind and understanding about where im coming from and so we havent talked in a couple days but just ....#god ok fuck it. we were hanging out saturday night and at some point we were going somewhere where parking sucked so i just suggested we go #in his car rather than separate bc finding parking for ONE car is a Struggle. anyways so afterwards we went back to where i parked my car #and i hahahhaaaaa was NOT leaving. it was just past midnight and so we were just hanging in his car talking for abt an hour #in there at some point i told him about that last crush and how it dragged on and he was like jesus CHRIST sia thats a lot #i was reclined in my seat and shutting my eyes listening to the music and i caught him looking at me a couple times andddddd uh #yeah basically i ended up in his lap and then we were kissing and touching and grinding for like the next hour and a half #and he asked if i wanted to go back to my place and i was like uhhhhhhhhhhhh not now so we stayed in there and just made out & talked more #and then he TOLD me. basically hes in a similar situation i was in this time last year. like a girl he liked and was talking to actually #has a bf. hes sorta in limbo and she still talks to bim and is stringing him along and playing off his hopes theyll get together for.#entertainment ig. everyone at this school is fantastic btw. jesus fucking christ.#so yeah he told me bc he said he didnt wanna hurt me or end up fucking me over and that i deserved full honesty and didnt want to get my #hopes up. which i REALLY appreciate. we talked for 8 days he got carried away once and immediately owned up. i do appreciate that #so like. he said that we can just be friends with or without benefits and i said id think about it. then at like 3 am we went home and he #check in with me to make sure i was alright since he could tell i had a LOT on my mind. i said id call him the next day and so we talked #and basically i explained the reason for my apprehensions and why i said no to hooking up (csa) and he was really understanding #and then like. i just asked him more about what was going through his head the night before & he described it as a heat of the moment thing #(which i agree it was) and like. he was genuinely concerned about me tho. idk #i told him that after i got home i had to shower for an hour scrubbyat every place he touched me and that im tired of feeling used #and he really heard me out and listened. he also asked if he hurt me and i said no but it def could have gotten to that point and i #and so he said 'im sorry for making your life at all hafrder to deal with' and i REALLY really #appreciate him being as honest as he was. so i said its cool we can be friends but i just need some space rn & he once again was really #understanding & said 'for as long as you need. just let me know whenever youre ready to just be friends again & if you need me to stay sway #from [xyz places we hung out] just let me know and if you need anything for class just feel free to reach out'#and. GOD i appreciate him. so that convo closed out on good terms. i was worried id need WEEKS but it rlly was just a few hours after that #i was ok again. traumas all about narratives and before that convo all i could see was another instance i was usee but like.#after actually talking it out all the fear around it dissipated and i can just see it for what it was: 2 friends who got carried away #but i really REALLY appreciate how hes handled this and we're both single & attracted to each other and so the question im thinking now is:#crushposting

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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year

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...

#Jesus. just finished my interview. no idea how it went #i think it was much too rambling on my part and they asked almost exclusively sciency questions #ugh hopefully i didn't look like a completle moron. the guy was sorta inscrutable so no idea what he thought #and he was like hmm whats ur competition here? and i dont give a fuck abt competition and also it doesnt really matter #fuck. i should have said. it would b fine if they were doing the exact same project bc we would b evolving different strains and it would b #interesting if they evolved even the exact same traits. fuck #i think objectively i probably looked like someone who halfway knows what theyre doing without the specific knowledge #which is exactly true. like mother fuckers ive got a full time job to be overworked in. i dont have time to memorize details of every #pathway change in every desert cyano #uuuuugh its just annoying bc my brain doesnt work well in the moment. i need time to process and knit together an answer #so i wouldnt b surprised if i was ranked low. oh god i was told the interview was prob a formality unless it goes terribly #itll b real embarrassing if i dont get passed this stage now #whatever it was a bit chaotic on their end too bc one guy didnt show up until halfway thru so i kinda had to go back and say things twice #uuuuuuuuuuggh. well that kinda sucked. at least its done. out of my hands now.#i was getting too excited abt it anyway. this will reaffirm my: obviously im not gonna get it vibes #i mean thats what i get for trying to join a very competitive program. like i am not a competitive person #rip to my lab mate who im gonna whine at all day abt this. i have to meet him in less than an hour #welp. there r other schools. god i hope at least one of them accepts me #ugh i just think its kinda annoying they they want u to be perfectly qualified for things lol. like i would need someone to step thru the #lab process with me literally once or twice and then id be good to go #like maybe a couple hours of someones time to remind me. thats it. humans r adaptable #i can obviously carry out a project to its conclusion and i have a lot of passion. not that they asked. but yeah #oh well. i should have breakfast before i freeze in the desert all day #unrelated

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mihotose · 1 year

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mum really pissing me off today 👍

#you cantttt not look at the screen and then ask me whats going on #if you want everything explained for you patiently in words go back to watching your true crime youtubers jesus christ #god. i am showing you masterpieces in television writing and you look away!!!! embarrassing tbh #gemitus #also her husband popped in minutes before nacho's death and was making snarky comments like shut up #'is he actually still alive' 'i think theyre going to kill him now' 'about time'#im biting you im biting you you dont know ANYTHING that nacho has been through hes been trapped on all sides for years.#bcs

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storybook-souls · 2 years

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have spent all weekend holed up in a cabin working on my novel and while it’s been very creatively fulfilling i’m left feeling very very [emotion] about the whole thing overall

#on the one hand every time i spend time writing it's so validating to get to go. 'oh i DO love this. i really really do.'#'i haven't just tricked myself into thinking i like doing this i really do feel like this is the thing i could do Forever'#but there IS a. 'hey am i actually any GOOD at this????' 'is it supposed to be easier than this? feel less like pulling teeth?'#'should the characters feel more real by now? am i as funny as i think i am? do i have the courage to take the swings i need to?#do i really control the plot as well as i need to? are my ideas really even anything at all?'#and then the third thing is. 'jesus christ it's really hard to write a novel when you have a full time job.'#especially when you're also running 4 dnd games and actually working 45ish hours a week and have to #maintain your own apartment and life and try to have some sliver of a social life and have family obligations #and are trying to get more sleep and have recently gotten back into reading books--#i got a lot done!!!! but not as much as i maybe HOPED to #this draft is like. not quite halfway done and i STILL don't know exactly what i'm doing with some of the #later chapters and while i think this draft is BETTER than draft 1 (obviously) it still like. needs a lot of work #and i'm so Tired....i feel GOOD but i'm so Tired and i have to go back to WORK on tuesday....#i. :( i know these things take time and that's okay i can be okay with it but it's just. really daunting to look down that road #and to know that i could only get as far as i did bc i set aside two whole days for it and WHEN am i gonna get that again #instead i'm just gonna have to go back to fitting it in around all the everything else which is. sigh #but i can do it! i literally can and i'm going to.#and i'm very glad i had this weekend it DID do the main thing i needed it to which is that it made me figure out #HOW to do a proper second draft. so now i can keep going #fcm #my writing

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astrafell · 2 years

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i think the thing that makes me sad is the fact that i’ve had geralt for around 6 or 7 years now and i can’t remember ever getting the chance to write a monster hunting thread that went somewhere. you would think that a man who hunters monsters for a living would have that be his main go-to prompt. but yea, when i think about it? i genuinely think i had about 2 threads in that area and neither of them were really wanting to go into horror or magic or mystic. i love complex npcs too. but sometimes, i just wanna write geralt killing things and protecting innocent people from monsters.

#🐺 ( out of potions -- ooc. )#there's like... so much i wanna reconfigure with this blog now that he's active again #and there's so much i refuse to subject myself to that i did in the past #bc looking back it was really disheartening investing so much into threads and partners and not getting the same respect #and i really wanna go forward and explore certain plots that could blend a ton of different characters and relationships #i think we all kind of want that when we come on this site #but it's a lackluster experience for the most part #i dont want that to continue #i want to feel like my time that i invest in is worthwhile #not look back like i am now and go: jesus what was that time and why did i let that happen?

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javiscigarette · 3 months

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Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help.

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp.

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time”

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pussy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort.

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face.

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out.

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily.

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along famously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies.

It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea.

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself.

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back.

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm.

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod.

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt.

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing.

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body.

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek.

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.”

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment.

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way”

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.”

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again.

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.”

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile.

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists.

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt.

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing.

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly.

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer.

“I sure do.”

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can.

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath.

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit.

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him.

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now.

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically.

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge.

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth.

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again.

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him.

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless.

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him.

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans.

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick.

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

Text

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar.

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink.

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?”

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!”

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison.

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up.

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice.

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder.

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!”

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.”

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out,

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,” grind—and you whimper in his ear, “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked.

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed.

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand, goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.”

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him. With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank.

“You have a condom?”

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it.

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.”

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise.

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.”

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock.

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back, stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length.

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it.

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.”

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

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