#or should I say Oscar and Isaac | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 4.8k

chapter summary: Your brother comes for a visit and of course, he wants to meet the Millers. Things with Joel come to a boiling point, threatening to pour over.

warnings: joel dissociating, family dynamics, criticizing of war, some angst, arguing, hints of grief, brief mention of parents being emotionally distant, explicit make out scene at the end

a/n: August is the reader's stepbrother, reader still has no physical descriptions. His face claim ended up being Oscar Isaac, ofc you don't have to imagine him that way, but I just wanted to let y'all know lmaodbf I was trying to think of what he should look like and it kinda happened

Chapter Seven || Chapter Nine

Your brother is already sitting on the kitchen stool when you walk in with silent, socked feet. He hears you though. Always does. Perking up, he turns with a smile. Your heart jumps as you notice a magazine in his hand, but realizing it can’t be the one with Joel’s picture in it, you relax, making a beeline to the coffee machine.

“You still like your coffee black?”

“Yup. Just like my wretched soul.”

You shake your head. Smiling, you grind the coffee beans, the sound breaking the peaceful silence of the morning. When you’re done, you turn to him and pour the coffee into the portafilter. You tamp it down.

“Your soul isn’t black.”

“Hmm?” He rests his cheek in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped up on the kitchen counter. A soft smile tugs at his lips, always amused by your rantings. “And what color is my soul?”

“Golden. Sparkly, shiny.”

“You’re just saying that because of my name.”

“Why would Auggie remind me of gold?”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. Idiot.” he grins. He leans over and squeezes your cheeks with one hand, hallowing them out. You let out a whine. “Come on now. Say it. Say my actual name and not the one you would call your sheepdog.”

You push out your bottom lip, pouting, you glare at him. He laughs.

“I’m not letting go until you say it.”

“Fine,” you snap, your voice muffled. “August. There, happy? Now let me go, you menace.”

“See, was that so hard?” he lets go and you stumble back. His strength always coming a bit of a shock. You draw your brows together, rubbing your chin. August rolls his eyes. “Why can’t you be normal and just call me Gus if you’re going to be lazy about it.”

“Because it sounds like goose and I don’t like geese. And Auggie sounds cute,” you answer. The hiss of the coffee maker fills the kitchen and you take two mugs from the cabinet. “How’s mom and dad by the way?”

“Not thrilled that you’re here on your own. Living with ghosts.”

Shaking your head, you place a red colored mug in front of him. Your parents had a habit of think you were drowning in melancholy. Which…was true, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be on your own. You’re about to say just that, looking at him but the thin gold chain on his neck reflects the soft morning hue and catches your gaze. Briefly, you stare at it, blinking.

“You’re wearing it again?”

August raises a sole brow, confused, that is until he looks down and realizes what you meant. He licks his lips and smooths his palms over the marble counter.

“Well…no point in being mad at him anymore is there? The old man’s gone.”

“He’d be happy knowing you still care.”

“I always cared,” he snaps with a hint of annoyance. “Need I remind you that pops was the one mad at me. Not the other way around.”

“He was mad because you were throwing your life away,” you level him a serious look and add. “You still are.”

“I don’t want to do this first thing in the morning,” he groans. “You’re just saying that because you don’t like the idea of your big brother with a gun.”

You fill his mug with piping hot coffee. Steam curls into the air. You start warming up milk for yourself, your back turned to him.

“I don’t like the idea of my big brother being shipped off to war on a whim. It’s not a hunting trip. Don’t act like it’s not a big deal.”

“It isn’t.”

“You’ll die.”

You suck in a sharp breath. You hadn’t meant to say it like that. He’s already aware that he can die. You close your eyes and keep them like that. The sounds of the kitchen fade into the background. The sound of a clock echoes in your mind. You remember the last time August was here, in this house. Your grandfather was alive then. The house was full of his voice and scent. Unlike your parents, who were somewhat distant, your grandpa hated the thought of August wasting his potential. Meanwhile, August was trying hard to prove that he didn’t have any potential to waste. You’re not even sure what your big brother does anymore. You stopped asking the day you and him buried your grandpa.

It’s been the two of you for the longest time. Your mother remarried when you were four, August was six. Not having many friends, you were quick to leach on to him, and he seemed happy by that. He was your family, and you were his. Blood didn’t matter. And your grandfather, and grandmother, agreed with the sentiment, never separating the two of you.

You remember when you were still in university, August didn’t tell you he was in the city. And one late night he was on your doorstep. Rain soaked through his shirt and his hair curled at the ends. Your heart breaks when you remember those times. He refused to tell you what happened that night. Later on, you learned he came to meet his mom. The exchange hadn’t gone well.

You jump when you feel a set of hands on your shoulders. The sound of your name follows soon after, it sounds rushed like it had been repeated a couple of times before you heard it.

Everything comes flooding back. The coffee. The milk. Your brother standing behind you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Christ. Where’s your head at?”

“Shit—” you hiss, seeing that the milk had overflowed. You quickly turn off the stove. “Sorry, sorry. Must’ve zoned out.”

“This is why I said I didn’t want to have this conversation first thing in the morning,” he grumbles, picking up a handful of napkins. “You need to stop worrying about me okay? I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t want to constantly fight about this. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You realize your answer is less than ideal but it is what it is. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, fine. You’ll at least make him highly aware of how you feel about it.

After cleaning the stove and finally making yourself a decent cup of coffee, you sigh into the mug. “So what do you want to do during your visit? Sightseeing?”

He chuckles, “Why are you acting like this is my first time here?”

“I don’t know. I feel awkward now. I probably need breakfast.”

“You’re fine,” he answers, booping your nose. Your wrinkle your nose, a soft smile blossoming on your lips. “I’ve seen your paintings, they look good.”

You nod, silently sipping your coffee.

“Any plans on showing them off, or whatever it is that artists do—put them in a museum?”

“Gallery.” you correct him. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Not so fun is it? Being questioned?” when you fix him a glare, he grins. “Anyway…I love what you’ve done with the room. About time something changed here.”

You finally crack a proper smile and he quickly follows up with more series of thoughts. With a soft giggle parting your lips, you shake your head.

“Which one was it that helped you?” he asks. “The brothers?”

“Both helped. But the credit has to go to Tommy, he’s the one who came up with the idea.”

“Wise man,” he hums, tongue moving over his teeth thoughtfully. “Was he the one in Desert Storm?”

“Yup,” you answer unenthusiastically, popping your lips at the p.

“When am I going to meet the famous Millers? I want to thank them for helping out my baby sister.”

“Tonight. They’re coming over for dinner.”

Another unenthusiastic response. It’s been almost a week since your date with Tommy, and since you’ve moved out from Joel’s and back into your own. You’ve seen Tommy a bunch after that, but the older Miller not so much. Guilt burrows in your heart. You might’ve been a bit too short with Joel, now that you think about it. His intentions obviously weren’t bad. But that didn’t really matter to you, did it? Your heart skips a beat every time you think of him. And you stared at his picture nearly every night since you returned.

Meanwhile, despite seeing him almost every day whenever he came over to fix up the room, your friendship with Tommy felt…off. Some part of you thinks he knows about your feelings, and Joel’s. He never said anything about it. He hadn’t even mentioned the date, it was like business as usual.

It was just a crush then. It has to be. You and Tommy were close, he was lonely, figured he’d ask you out. Nothing serious. You preferred to think about it that way.

“What are we having?” your brother asks, drawing you away from your, not so fun, thoughts.

“I was thinking chicken.”

Joel holds a bottle of wine in hand and Sarah is holding a tupperware full of homemade brownies. Upon getting the invite, Sarah had been adamant about perfecting her recipe to bring over. Joel was not allowed in the kitchen. Deeming to be a jinx whenever Sarah tried to cook. He had no objections to that. He was more than happy to listen to his daughter hum in the kitchen as he watched TV in the living room.

They walk toward your place with her arm crossed over his. Tommy is getting out of the truck just as they reach the porch. His younger brother meets Joel’s gaze briefly before turning his head, walking up to them. He ruffles Sarah’s hair, greeting them both with a small nod of his head.

“Better get this over then,” Tommy mutters, reaching from between the father and daughter duo to knock on the door.

But before he can, Sarah smacks his hand away. The gesture earns her a solid fix of Tommy’s glare. Joel’s shoulders raise, his eyes nervously flitting between Sarah and Tommy. He’d kept Sarah out of the loop. It felt like the right thing to do. Your dating life should be no concern to her. And as far as Joel was concerned, Sarah wasn’t ready to hear about his love life with another woman.

“Sarah.” Tommy warns, the last syllable of her name bouncing off his grit teeth. “What do you think you’re doin’?”

“You two have been so weird all week,” she chides, the crease between her brows similar to her father’s. “If you’re not going to be nice, you should leave.”

“Dammit Sarah, I—” he lets out a stuttering breath. “Fine. Just knock on the goddamn door.”

It’s instinct. Sarah knocks on the door and at the same time Joel brings a hand down to Tommy’s shoulder. Hard. The younger Miller’s entire body tilts to the side and Joel squeezes, making sure that his fingers make dents into Tommy’s skin. Tommy tenses under Joel’s hold but doesn’t move, he doesn’t even look back at him. He just patiently waits until the door opens, warm, soft light pouring through the door.

Sarah takes the first step, hugging you and handing you the Tupperware. You’re wearing a green dress that hugs your figure perfectly, his mouth floods with saliva. Joel already feels his cock twitching uncontrollably under his jeans. The way you smile is always so bright.

But first things first.

“Don’t you ever snap at my daughter like that again. You hear me, Tommy.” he says in a hushed tone, leaning into Tommy’s ear. Sarah already disappeared inside, and you’re patiently holding the door open for them.

“Your daughter?” he grimaces, taking a step back so the two of them are out of earshot. “You mean my niece? I didn’t do anythin’ Joel. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

Tommy takes the lead. He kisses your cheek and mutters pleasantries. Without waiting for Joel, Tommy takes his shoes off, heads to the kitchen. Joel huffs, glaring at his brother’s back.

“Is something wrong?”

Your voice peels him away from his anger, his hands suddenly feel foreign to him. He robotically hands you the wine.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “Just brothers being brothers.”

“O…kay then. Well in any case, welcome. Thanks for the wine.”

If Tommy being mad at him isn’t enough, it looks like you’re still frustrated with him as well. You don’t look at him. And the smile you have on is nothing other than polite. It’s a small little curve. The type you would give to a stranger walking past you in the street. He hates it.

Thank god for Sarah. At least she’s not mad at him.

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters, purposefully brushing his arm against yours while passing you by. He hears you letting out a soft sigh. The hairs on his arms stand with delight at the sound.

He enters the kitchen where the dining table is at. Tommy’s already chatting up your brother, and Sarah is dragging her fingers through one of your dried oil paintings. She likes the texture of it, he told him once. The brother’s eyes meet Joel’s and he already feels his muscles growing taut. Tommy follows the brother’s gaze and nods.

Joel nearly jumps when your hand comes around his shoulder. The brother narrows his eyes.

“This is Joel,” you say, giving him a gentle shove. “And you already met Tommy. Joel, this is August. My brother.”

Joel takes in the brother’s appearance. He has sharp, angular cheekbones that give his face a chiseled look, and his intense gaze is accentuated by thick, dark eyebrows. His wavy, dark hair falls messily over his forehead. He has broad shoulders and a defined jawline. He exudes a quiet confidence that draws Joel's attention.

Swallowing multiple times, Joel quickly extends a hand. A weird sense of relief washes over him when August takes it, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, sitting back down. “I heard so much about you.”

“Good things I hope,” Joel grins sheepishly. A blush crawls up from his neck to his cheeks when the other winks. Joel’s gut is telling him that August already knows what’s going on in his head and it’s unnerving.

“They’re all good, don’t worry.” he smiles and pulls out a chair for Joel. “She tells me you two helped her with the room. Well, you have my thanks. I was a bit worried about her moving in here after…” he clears his throat. “I’m sure you know.”

August utters the last sentence with his eyes fixed on Joel. He shudders.

“Auggie, stop making me seem like I’m a damsel in distress. I’m not a child that needs to be taken care of.”

“That you’re not,” August answers. “But everyone needs help sometimes.”

You frown, “Says the man who never accepts it.”

The rest of the evening passes by with soft jazz music in the background and all of them setting the table together, which isn’t a five-man job, but they do it anyway. Sarah is rather bubbly, talking about school and a boy she doesn’t seem to like. He takes a mental note to ask about that later. You listen with interest, checking the rice and mixing the salad. Tommy and August hit it off instantly. Which isn’t at all a shock to him. August laughs at something Tommy says while placing a plate. Joel looks around, his pleading eyes landing on Sarah and you in the kitchen.

Neither of them notices him. He’s left standing awkwardly between kitchen and dining room. He rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans, gaze dropping to his socked feet.

He doesn’t want to bother anyone, so he slips away to the hall.

Maybe he should’ve asked you first, before going exploring. But he can’t really help it. Joel finds himself in the renovated room. It’s basically done, the room fully painted and bookshelves back in place. You even have a couple of easels holding your latest artwork. He stumbles inside, the conversations fading into the background.

It’s hard not to feel upset. He isn’t sure what he’s doing wrong. At the time, not allowing you to say what you had swirling in your mind felt like the right thing to do. Joel doesn’t know if he could’ve held back if you confessed. Even though he was rather close to confessing himself, that was before Tommy took initiative.

He observes the first painting. His initial thought is that it looks nice. There are a lot of colors in geometric shapes. He sees a lot of red and pink. Some blue. Some white. His eyes move up and down, and as it does, he slowly begins to realize the smaller shapes form a bigger one. It’s human. A naked one. He follows the vee of the adonis belt, the softened stomach. Suddenly it’s very clear to him that this is a man. Joel takes a step back. The face hasn’t been painted yet. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. A somber smile touches his lips. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t have any of those. Maybe he won’t fuck up so badly if he doesn’t.

Joel’s about to leave when he sees it. The smallest stain on the front of the silhouette’s hip. Tilting his head, he steps closer. His skin tight over his muscles, his breath hitches.

It’s a bullseye. The tiniest, you blink you miss it, bullseye.

He leans closer, it’s definitely a bullseye. Smaller than his tattoo, but it’s the same shape, in the same spot.

What the fuck?

He lifts his gaze, eyes flitting across the round shape that’s meant to be a face—his face. Is this…supposed to be him?

Shitshitshitshit

Joel jolts out of the room and stumbles into the small bathroom that’s on the first floor. He turns the faucet so hard that his fingers ache but he doesn’t care. He splashes cool water over his face until his breathing calms down. Then he flushes the toilet for some noise.

When he opens the door, his head is spinning. The walls wiggle and dance, the hardwood floor underneath his feet slips. Joel can barely stand. His fingers itch to have something pressed against them, something that can pull him out of the fog of his mind.

He doesn’t look inside and silently closes the door, his eyes glazed over. He makes his way down the hall. His heart is beating too fast. He can barely breathe. Some part of him believes he’s making it up. That the tattoo wasn’t there, that it was just smudged paint. He’s not an artist. It wouldn’t be hard for his brain to make something up. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The voices grow closer. He closes his eyes, lashes touching with his cheeks. He should’ve let you talk that day. At least then everything would be crystal clear. He hates not truly knowing. The heave of his chest forces him to open his eyes.

Everyone is already at the table. You’re serving the food, putting a chicken leg on your brother’s empty plate. His space is reserved next to Sarah, right across from Tommy and you, August is at the head of the table. Only Sarah notices him. She looks up, brows pinched together as she mouths: are you okay dad?

Joel nods and takes his seat. His vision finally clears. The scent of chicken and roasted vegetables wafts through the air, grounding him to the present. He feels the brush of Sarah’s fingers on his forearm, she still looks worried.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, reaching for the salad. With his tongue between his lips, his gaze follows your movements as you divide the chicken. “Everything looks amazing, tea. Thank you for having us.”

“Yeah,” Sarah chimes in. “It looks great. I didn’t know you could cook.”

You let out a snort and shake your head. “Why does everyone in this house think I can’t look after myself? What kind of image am I giving you guys?”

Laughter follows, Tommy, says something but Joel doesn’t catch it. His mind still in the room with the painting. He eats silently. Biting into his fork and savoring the taste of white meat. He watches Sarah neatly wrapping the base of the chicken leg with a napkin before she starts eating, he rolls his eyes but smiles anyway.

No one really discerns his silence. Which he concludes to be a good thing. The food is good and helps him settle down. His eyes flit between you and Tommy, a pleasant conversation taking place between the two people closest to him.

Suddenly he sees Tommy in a tux, you in a white dress. The sun is bright and Sarah is the flower girl. He’s standing next to his baby brother, waiting to hand the ring to Tommy as soon as the priest finishes his speech. He stares at you from above Tommy’s shoulder. Your smile is wide.

You meet his gaze and Joel fights the urge to jerk away. Your smile broadens into a grin, you wink at him.

You look back to Tommy. His heart sinks into his stomach.

If that ever happens, at least you'll still be close. Joel will forever have your eyes. He’ll get to stare at them as often as he wants to. Tommy doesn’t have to know. But that doesn't change the fact that Joel will still be lost, he'll still be lonely after Sarah leaves to live her own life.

He would always be searching for something more, something that he couldn't quite name or articulate. That yearning would remain, like an ache that refused to subside. He would try to fill that void with other things, other people, but it would never be enough. He would always come back to that sense of restlessness, that nagging feeling that there was something missing.

He’ll never be satisfied.

Joel hands you a wet plate and you smile, patting off the access water, you place it on the dishrack. Soft steps come from upstairs. A door closes, and the sound of the shower softly adds to the ambiance of domestic bliss.

Joel hands you another plate.

It’s been a while since dinner came to an end. Much to your delight, it turned out to be a pleasant evening. August and Tommy got along swimmingly, which came as no surprise to anyone. With her stomach full and warm, Sarah was practically sleeping on the couch. Joel had to nudge her awake, and you offered to show him the spare room, but he shook his head and woke her up. Sarah was briefly confused, but she managed to make her way back with Joel. Tommy left a bit later, thanking you and squeezing your hand as he left. You were quite surprised when Joel returned ten minutes later, offering to help with the dishes. August had already gone upstairs to take a shower.

You hate doing the dishes so you had no objections to that.

“I really should buy a dishwasher,” you say, breaking the silence. “Thanks again. You really didn’t have to.”

His lips part with a low chuckle, his gaze fixed on the sponge that suds up the plate. “I’ve heard you complain more than I can count, sweet tea. There was no way I was going to leave you with this monstrous pile.”

“My hero.”

A comfortable silence stretches between the two of you, though you're not sure how that's possible. He's been avoiding you for a week and has been silent all afternoon. You're not even sure he talked to Auggie much, except for introducing himself.

Some part of you doesn't want the stacks of porcelain to end. You internally curse at yourself for washing the pots and pans before dinner. This time, you take a bowl from him. It's slippery, and you nearly drop it, but his fingers curl around yours, tightening your grip before it can shatter against the floor.

Your breath catches in your throat. Joel's fingers remain on your hand, and a soft caress follows. Goosebumps rise over your body; it's so sudden that it tingles, a slight pain etching over your skin. Slowly lifting your eyes, you see that he's already staring at you. Joel holds your gaze, his eyes warm and inviting. A blissful sigh raises in your throat, threatening to spill, but you press your lips together.

Joel inhales, and on the exhale he asks, “Your date with Tommy must’ve been a good one, I reckon. You guys came back late.”

Blood rushes to your ears. You pull your hand back, like you’ve been burned with boiling water, soap bubbles fly into the air. The bowl slips back into the sink and you hear it crack but refuse to look down. Your heart is beating too fast, too hard—shit. Why is he saying this out of the blue? Rage pounds underneath your fingernails. You’re not sure why you’re so mad. And you’re not surprised Tommy didn’t tell him anything. Those two are constipated when it comes to talking.

Your glare and his soft gaze clashes, lighting crackling in the still air.

“Why are you suddenly mentioning Tommy?” you hiss out. Tears sting your eyes. “And it’s none of your business. If you want to know you should ask hi—”

“I saw your little art project.”

Your mouth dries up, the rage replaced by a childlike terror. You pull your hand close to your chest. Breathing heavily.

“What?”

Joel takes a step forward, leaning into you and crowding your personal bubble. You’re glued to the floor. The blood rush loud in your ears. You feel so vulnerable that it hurts, your body trembling uncontrollably.

“It was…me, wasn’t it?” he shakes his head. “What if Tommy saw? You can’t do shit like that when you’re datin’ him. You can’t just paint another man.”

His voice is both hushed and forceful. You’ shake your head, attempting to blink away the tears. All the emotions you feel like a balloon in your chest waiting to explode. Your head drops. You stare at his chest. It’s moving with every rapid breath.

“Fuck you.”

“Excuse me?” Joel sounds flabbergasted. He takes a step back and stares at you—really stares at you with narrowed eyes, as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

“I said,” you bite out through clenched teeth. You step forward and shove him in the chest, it does little to move him and his fingers wrap tightly around your wrists. You refuse to look at him. “Fuck. You. You don’t get to shame me in the ways I heal. The art I create. You’re the one who has a girlfriend. You’re the one that allowed me to get as close as I did, saying cryptic shit knowing that I had a crush on you! So yeah—” your eyes snap up, looking him dead in the eye. His mouth hangs open, shock etched between his brows. “Fuck you, Joel Miller.”

His grip tightens, it’s rough and it stings. A shiver runs up your spine. “I’m not dating your brother.” you say with a sense of finality.

“I didn’t know you had a crush on me.” Joel’s thumb moves down your wrist. His hardened gaze softens, the smallest of gasps escaping from between lips. “Asha and I broke up.”

“You did?”

Your world starts spinning, your stomach flips in your stomach. He nods.

“The day you came to the garden. Before your date with Tommy. I broke it off.”

“Why?” you ask, holding your breath.

“Because I had someone else on my mind.”

He’s fully stroking your arm now, the roughness of his hold gone. Textured fingertips move up and down your skin, sending shudder after shudder up your very being. Heat gathers between your legs, and you feel a dampness that makes you ache. Joel leans closer and you feel his hot breath fanning your cheeks, mixed with the lingering scent of beer. You hold your breath. The kitchen doesn’t seem to stop spinning.

Without another word Joel tugs you flush against him, his firm chest pressing up yours, a tingle starting from your pebbled nipples and buzzing throughout your body. He sucks the air from your lungs. He groans into your mouth. You feel his hands skimming the frame of your body, dipping into every curve. Joel pulls and tugs at the fabric of your dress. You hear a small rip. You don’t care about it in the slightest. But he must’ve heard it too because a soft growl emanates from his chest. He tugs at the fabric again, the following noise louder. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, pulling it along with him as he parts. You let out a debauched whine and you swear he grins, the cocky bastard.

His hands cup your ass, kneading it tenderly. You sigh into his mouth, your hands feeling numb and weak from where they rest above his chest. He lets go of your bottom lip, pressing his mouth into the swollen flesh before moving away.

You gasp and let out a shaky bubble of laughter. “If this ‘someone else’ you speak of isn’t me this is about to get really awkward really fast.”

“Don’t worry that pretty lil’ head of yours darlin’,” his forehead touches yours, the skin damp. He breathes heavily, the tone of his voice oddly serious and deep. “It’s you.”

a/n: THEY KISSED! FINALLY. I think this is the longest thing I've ever written without the characters getting at it immediately, it's been a fun ride lmaodfbfd

Normally, this chapter was supposed to have smut as well. But I loved the ending "it's you" so much that I decided it was a good way to end the chapter. But believe me, the next chapter is going to get as filthy as it gets. I already have it outlined. (feel free to hop into my askbox to tell me what filthy things you want to see them get to 🤭)

Thank you to everyone who is still with me on this little journey that started out with a mere thought after seeing a bts Instagram story, I never thought so many people would be eager to read such a thing and all of you have my appreciation. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, in all honestly I'm nervous as hell posting it. Hopefully I hit all the right parts.

Sending all of you many hugs and kisses 🧡

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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nerdieforpedro · 3 months

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Watch me and Touch it Querida

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x plus size female reader

Fanfiction is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Santiago Garcia Masterlist / Oscar Isaac Masterlist

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: You have a crush on your long time friend Santiago. After the events of Columbia, he stays in your spare bedroom. You two make good roommates. Pope decides to ask you a question that you thought was just a throwaway. Turns out he was serious.

Warnings: Teasing, Hair worship (is this a thing? I guess it is now 👀), oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap them thangs up), cockwarming, aftercare, bad jokes throughout (another Nerdie staple)

Notes: My first Santiago smut! I think I captured his essence. Maybe, Ya'll will have to let me know. Also, I apologize to anyone who actually plays guitar, I just looked up what Google said were the four basic chords.

The first clue should have been that he asked to stay with you. He had three other men, his brothers, that he could have stayed with. Especially since they don't talk about whatever happened last month. Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia is a flirt of a man, has been since you’ve known him. You pay him no mind, his little compliments don’t phase you - much. He would call and text you in between deployments and later when he was out of the military. He’d also call when he was in the States or overseas consulting. Just checking in on you, he would normally lead with asking about how you were doing. Your mind constantly told you it’s the kind of thing he would do with the guys except they likely have private jokes. Your heart tells you it might be more, but your mind usually wins with reasoning.

Him moving in went fine. Pope didn’t have much with him. A few duffle bags and a backpack. He took up your second bedroom and things were easy. Just fine. They guys joked that you two should have been roommates years ago since you got along so well. They’re not wrong, you just still need him to move out. Which is impossible to ask considering one of his friends just died on their trip, none of them will say how and even though they all still get along, neither Frankie, Will or Benny will let Pope stay with them. Suspicion is high that there’s some lingering resentment there, but it’s not your place to ask. You weren’t there. You don’t know and you’re not going to.

You haven’t seen any odd habits so far. He cleans up after himself, cooks every once in a while. No women have been in your guest room that you know of and you never want to know if they have. The conversations flow easily and he plays his guitar sometimes, letting you sit on his bed next to him while he plays different chords. Strong hands alternate between picking at the strings and strumming them, Santi softly hums a tune you’re not familiar with. There was a Die Hard marathon you both watched together the other day. No red flags….which should have been red flag two for you.

He’s your friend. Almost a brother to you. You can’t be looking at how his polo shirts cinch around his waist and slight tummy or how they’re struggling with every thread on those biceps of his. The man has a million watt smile with curls to match, a dangerous five o’clock shadow, plush lips and warm chocolate eyes that focus on you when you speak. When he calls your name, you always exhale, it sounds perfect out of his mouth. Your thoughts haven’t even broached his thighs or that perfect curve he calls an ass when he asks you out of the blue. You’re minding your own business on the couch reading a book. Lying to yourself that you’re going to do less screen time this year.

“You think I should grow it out? I’ve always shaved it.” How long had he been thinking about this? Wait…shave what? Not his head right?! Not those curls. Curls that you’d snuck your hands in only a handful of times copying a noogie that Benny would do and only when the others were around. So silky with a touch of gray….He had asked a question. About his hair, shaving it…

“Santiago. Please don’t shave your head.” You pleaded, harder than you meant it to come out, but you were serious. It warranted your book closing and to look up at him. Why did he have to stand in front of you like that? Sure most people do that, but it’s not okay when he does it. You’re aware of this and the fact that you still haven’t told this man to move in with one of his brothers means you’re the third red flag. At some point, you became okay with the idea of throwing away your friendship with Santiago. Oolging him when he’s not aware and looking forward when he’s away for a few days so you can think more about his merits and assets. Possibly with a few handheld aides.

He laughed at you and sat down on the couch. “No tonta (silly). Grow a beard. My facial hair grows pretty fast anyway. What do you think? You like facial hair on your men angel?” His shoulder nudged your arm. You chuckled at the thought that he joked about you having men. Pfft. Shaking your head, you playfully swatted his cheek, his rough stubble grazing your fingers. You made sure your hand came down to your knee, the desire to keep in on his face was too strong in the moment.

“I think you could pull off a beard. You already have stubble half the time. Just don’t let it look raggedy Santi.” You smiled, trying to picture it. The most facial hair you’d seen him with was a mustache in pictures before Delta Force and he looked like a porn star. Hell he looked like one now. You need to stay focused, you’re having a conversation. If he did have one of those nice, maintained beards though…he might turn into an evil villain. They usually had some cool beards before getting thwarted by heroes. His grin at your very apparent compliment and distraction makes you lose the little focus you did have.

“Glad you believe in me. You didn’t answer my other question though.” Squinting your eyes, you’re confused for maybe the third time tonight. “Do you like facial hair on men or do you like them clean shaven?” He leaned in, very clearly expecting an answer.

Frazzled, your answer matched your current state of mind, “I mean, more hair is always better than less hair. I love some friction, you know I’m used to it because of my thighs but that’s…it’s gotta be a different kinda of sensation when someone's doing it right and has a solid beard…” His wide eyes told you that you’d said too much. Way too much. You stood up and mumbled goodnight, cursing yourself and hoping that maybe he had another overseas contract soon. He grabbed your wrist and stood with you.

“Is that what you like angel? Something for a different type of friction? Good to know. I take it you haven’t had that from what you said though. Sweet dreams cariño (dear).” Santiago said as he released your wrist. He knew damn well you weren’t going to sleep tonight and you didn’t. The next few days, he didn’t mention it and when you two met up with the guys and their girlfriends, he didn’t mention anything then either. By next week, you were sure it had blown over and he left saying he was going to be gone for two months. That was plenty of time to forget your mistake right?

The time came and went fast. Santiago was back…with a damn beard. It was black with gray strands at its edges. Letting his lips peek out from the oval of hair that formed around them. You looked, then turned and snuck another look. Angry that you did. Maybe he would shave once he got settled in. He greeted you with a hug, nuzzling his nose and jaw on your neck as he embraced you. You wanted to slap him for testing you, but maybe he didn’t remember, you also wanted to touch his face and kiss him to feel the hair on your face. Gazing up at him, his curls had grown out a bit more as well, more pronounced and larger. Pope said he was going to go take a shower and frankly, you felt you could use one too. Get these ideas out of your head.

The first week is fine. A good amount of time spent with the guys both at bars, their places and in your apartment. The second week however was the kicker - Santiago had gotten some beard oil that smelled of cedar, jasmine and a hint of vanilla. You were thankful that Will wanted Santi to tag along with him this week for more motivational speaking engagements. Pope was out of the house and away from you smelling that damn delicious.

As it was past 9pm on a Thursday, you were already in your oversized sleep shirt and panties. Not sexy at all. Not that you needed to be, you’re dancing around in your apartment. It’s something you haven’t done too much except when Santi’s out of town. It helped calm you and you could focus on the music and not your various worries, especially your thoughts about your roommate.

Santiago unlocked the door to your apartment. He walked in and saw you in the living room. Swinging your hips, arms above your head. What should come on next but “Worth the Wait” by Kali Uchis & Omar Apollo. You’re singing along and moving with the music, it wouldn’t hurt to dance with you right? It’s not like he hasn’t danced with you around your home before, though that was usually to some boy bands that you would play because you knew he hated them. He took hold of your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours, his gaze on your surprised face as you stopped moving, but he brought one of your hands down and patted your hip to encourage you to continue to dance. The song is slow and the content is rather sensual. “Keep dancing cariño. With me.” Is the only thing he said as you two moved, your chests mere inches away from each other. He released your hands and placed them on your hips and yours immediately went to his beard. You figured if he’s going to dance with you like this, you may as well touch it. He let out a deep chuckle, leaning forward. Santi pressed his warm chest against yours, he spoke in your ear, “You like it, touch is querida (sweetheart)? I grew it just for you.”

Your breath hitched when he said your name in your ear and his hands that had been on your hips, roamed your back. “Y-You did Santi? You didn’t have to…I..” His large hand ran up your neck and cupped the back of your head as he sang along to Kali’s next song “All Mine.” Your hands fell to his sides, pressing into his skin, kneading it. It would be embarrassing how moist your panties had become and that your nipples were hard as little pebbles if you didn’t feel the need to jump this man, but dancing is sweet and nice.

We’ll figure it out as we go, just you and me

But we won’t leave each other alone, that’s all mine

All me, all me All mine, All mine, all mio, mio, mi

All mine, all mine, all mio, mio, mi

Both of you continued to rock side to side until the song ended and Santiago stood to his full height. You wondered if maybe you’d gotten too lost in the music and had imagined everything. You hadn’t let go of him yet, if you weren’t hallucinating then that meant this just happened and maybe you could act on what you’d been feeling. “Santiago. What you just sung, did you mean it?” Your eyes scanned his face, you wouldn’t be distracted this time. He had essentially used a song to confess his feelings to you, but it needed to be said outside of a song. Pope took hold of your chin and smiled.

“Yes I meant it. I know how you’ve been undressing me the entire time I’ve been here angel. I’m not an idiot. At least in that department. I’ll say I’m not great at long term relationships so we’ll take it how it goes, sí (yes)?” He offered. That was all you needed to cup his face, place your fingers in his beard and pull him in for a frantic kiss. He appeared surprised which made you grin as he parted his lips for you, quickly recovering and wrapping his arms around you pulling you toward him as you let him in, his tongue exploring your mouth. The groan you released was loud as you pressed your thighs together, feeling the wetness spread. You pulled out of the kiss and pulled him toward your bedroom. “Cariño, you sure?” He asked with slightly red lips. You answered by pushing him onto the bed, hands on your hips, you scanned his body. He didn’t need to ask and you weren’t going to answer such a silly question. You smacked your lips at the tent in those damn cargo pants he always wore.

“Too many clothes Garcia. Take them off.” Your hands went to your hips. “Now.” Santiago hadn’t seen this side of you and was enjoying it. He was normally one to take charge in the bedroom. He removed his shirt, exposing his taut muscles that flexed as he fiddled with his belt and removed his boxers and pants in one drop. He kicked off his socks as he sat on the side of bed with his arms out. You stepped up to him but didn’t embrace him. Instead, you just dropped your soaked panties as they hit the floor, heavy with your own wetness. Santi looked down and muttered a soft, “fuck,” next you removed your shirt. Your curves on full display as he attempted to place his hands on your hips but you stopped him. “Up on the bed. I’m due some friction since you keep teasing it with me.”

“¡Joder! (Fuck) , this is what you like huh? Being in charge? I’ll play along this time.” He slid back toward the top of the bed where you were expecting him in the middle.

“That’s where I’m supposed to be Santi. Move back down.” You motioned as the bed dipped, you crawled next to him and looked down at him. He smirked, damn grin. You wanted to pink he cheek, both sets.

“No. If you’re going to take charge then you need the right seat angel.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you scratched your chin for a moment. It clicked, he wanted you to…no one’s ever asked that. Pope didn’t give you a choice about settling on his face gently. He turned on his side to grab your knees and pulled you over his shoulders, his breath on your slick inner thighs. “Look at you. You’ll drench me won’t you angel?” He turned his head to the side and rubbed his beard on your thigh, you brought your legs closer together and reached down, taking a handful of his curls while calling his name.

“Dammit, you know how many nights I’ve thought about this, your curls and this beard? Don’t ever mention cutting your hair again unless I say so.” You growled, his nose tipped upward touching your clit momentarily before he drew back. “Fuck..you damn tease Santiago…” His hands roamed from your knees to your thighs and then your large ass, giving it a squeeze. It made you buck your hips and drop them, making your slick lips come into contact with his beard. Your yelp was sharp and followed by multiple curses as you heard Garcia laugh into your core. It didn’t matter now if he laughed, you were here, sitting on this man’s face. You dropped your hips to stifle him, calling his name as you sat. The sweet grate of his beard against your thighs and mound had you dripping.

Santiago had never seen you so feral. He was throbbing as he watched you cry out his name and felt his cock twitch when you pulled on his hair. He knew he had an effect on you but didn’t expect this. This was so much better than he could have imagined. Now that he could barely breathe, he opened his mouth, kissing your entrance before rolling his tongue around your tight hole. He estimated that he’d definitely need you come at least twice to accommodate him. He then had it pass your entrance to explore within you and he felt your strong pulses. He smirked again, hearing you scream as he went deeper before truly starting. He alternated hollowing out his cheeks to suck what felt like your uterus out of you and having his tongue press against your soft core. He was concerned for a moment that you may pull out a chunk of his hair, the way you were using his head to steady yourself as you grinded into his face. When he was pulling his tongue back to suck again, you screamed his name again and gushed, soaking his face, beard and neck. He drank as if he'd come in from a desert and you were the first source of water he’d come across. When your body relaxed, you fell forward and he slid from under you to lay next to you. Your face was sweaty and some of your hair was sticking to your forehead, one of your hands weakly came up to your face in an attempt to hide it but he grabbed it and kissed it gently.

“You asked me to strip so no hiding hermosa (gorgeous). You had your beloved friction?” He teased and you smiled, shaking your head. He didn’t forget that you said that. He remembers all the wrong things. He set your hand down on the bed and rubbed your back, “Ready for more? I’m going to need at least two more from you.” He explained and your eyes went wide.

“I might have one…and that’s being generous of me. Why two?” You managed to prop yourself on your elbows but were still on your stomach. His hand continued to rub your back and slowly went to your ass, then a finger slipped into your sensitive sex, making you gasp. “Y-You need to warn someone when you do that…”

“That’s why, you’re a little too tight.” He kissed your shoulder and licked your ear, “those boys you’ve dealt with and your toys don’t prepare you for me querida.” His finger pumped slowly and as it reached deeper he added a second one, making you lift your right knee to allow yourself to open more. The squelching noises coming from your cunt had you whine as you gaze up at Santiago who was watching you, his gaze heavy. “I wonder which chord your pussy plays to angel?” He licked his lips and nibbled on your ear again before speaking again, “Em?” His fingers pumped into your straight, “how about C?” He curved his fingers slightly and your hips snapped, you opened your legs even wider as you began to wiggle against the mattress.

Santiago stopped his fingers for a moment and flipped you on your back before adding a third finger and curling his fingers even more, “How about G?” His eyes were dancing, watching you pant from just his hand. You’re saying his name, but babbling angrily at him. He finds it adorable that you still have it in you to be angry. You could hold a grudge. He’ll fuck it right out of you. His free hand roams your wide stomach as you pull on the sheets around you and your legs continue to part for him, feet planted into the mattress as you move your hips with his fingers. He leans over you and kisses you gently to which you release the sheets and grab his head, digging into his curls again, biting his bottom lip. He draws back deciding to finish you. He wants to watch you as you climax this time, “let me give you chord D cariño.” Santiago crosses two of his fingers over each other, bends them slightly, hitting your spongy sensitive tissue. Your hands let go of his hair and grasp his forearms, digging your nails into them and you groan with your second climax, it feels stronger than the first as your back arches. He revels in watching your mouth wide open spilling with his name repeatedly, even the pain from your nails is welcome. He’s not normally into it being a bit rough, but he senses that you might not be aware of what you’re doing. He wouldn’t mention it now. Something else to tease you with later.

Slowly you feel his fingers leave your drenched cunt, you feel like you’re floating but exhausted. Your eyes flutter, but you watch as he licks his fingers, hearing him moan as he does. It had your core stirring again. Having him take you apart, break you even though you planned to be much more assertive, initially you weren’t happy about it, but he’d done nothing except pleasure you since you’d ask him to strip. “S-Santi, do you want me to…” Your eyes trailed down to his swollen and dripping cock which looked thicker than any you’d had, even your dildos. You were understanding more why he made sure to prepare you first.

“Not tonight. I bet you’re still pissed at me for teasing you. I know you hold onto a grudge like a dog with a bone, angel. You'll be a little less mad after I finish with you.” He rubbed his beard against your soft stomach before settling between your legs, “Ah! Damn it, I need a condom. I’ll have to go to my room, I have some-” His face went from smoldering to panicked, then to confusion as you reached down and gently gripped the head of his dick.

“I have an IUD Santiago. I’m not mad but, you’re not taking your cock out of me until it’s soft. I will be livid if you do.” His eyes were wide as your knees parted further and you brought his head to your entrance. He placed his hand over yours and moved it gingerly. You watched as he looked up at you.

“I didn’t realize you were such a dangerous woman. As my angel wants.” Santiago slid into your wet cunt halfway, watching you to see if you had any discomfort. It was slight, only from the stretch, he was so girthy. You growled at him.

“You’re not all the way in are you? I’m fine. Just move, Please Santi…” That famous grin spread over his face as he pushed forward until his hips were flush with yours. “Yes…that’s it…fuck it’s so much. This was in those damn pants? It isn’t enough that you have that ass?” You managed a small giggle, reaching your hands to cup his face. “Fuck me while you kiss me with this beard you sexy bastard.”

“You’re so damn kinky cariño. I love it and you, too.” His lips crashed into yours as he started his pace, not bothering with slow as he drew back and gave deep thrusts that kept hitting your cervix. Moans between the two of you had your lips swollen as you kept needing to either bite, suck or release cries. His hands moved from your stomach to your knees, bending your legs back and tipping your hips upward slightly, hitting an entirely different angle. Santiago was up on his knees and had moved out of your reach so you placed your hands over his that were on the back of your knees. Between him rutting into you and the bending you were doing to try and touch any part of him, your insides were quivering again. You were close again already.

“S-Santi..It’s…” You stuttered, in between your whines. He nodded as he felt you starting to clamp around him, he felt his balls tightening. Dropping one of your knees, he wrapped an arm around your back to bring you close to him, one hand went to his soft curls, now drenched with sweat and the other held the back of his neck as your thumb ran across his temple and grazed his beard. With a few more pumps, Santiago spilled into you, groaning into a rough kiss with you, his teeth nearly colliding with yours if you hadn’t had your tongue run along them. The sensation of him filling your core, had your third orgasm begin. Pope slowly dragged his softening cock along your walls to extend it, he kissed trailed down your neck. When both of your bodies stopped moving, Santi gave it a minute and went to pull out to which you wrapped your legs around him.

“Not yet. Just inside, a little longer Santi.” You cooed, kissing his shoulder. He nodded and held you, as the both of you soaked in each other’s warmth. When you removed your arms from him, he took that to mean that he could move which he did. He went to your bathroom as you tried to sit up. He looked back to you and quickly motioned for you to stay on the bed. He returned with a warm washcloth after whipping himself off and opened your legs. The cool air had you let out a quiet sigh.

“Careful, you keep sounding like that, I may have you ride my face again angel.” You laughed knowing you didn’t have the strength to do so no matter how tempting it sounded. He carefully wiped, making you flinch as your cunt was swollen and sensitive. Once he finished, he helped you sit up and helped you to the bathroom. After the clean up was done, you both returned to bed, getting under the sheets, you laid next to Santi and twirled a finger in his curls. “Ven aquí (come here) cariño. You enjoy yourself?” He pulled your upper body onto his chest, preferring to be face to face with you.

“I did. I’m going to be sore for a few days, but it’s worth it.” A soft smile graces your face as does Santi’s. You peck his lips and lay your head on his chest. His laugh vibrates throughout his chest. His hands are once again on your back, stroking it. It’s relaxing.

“Good to know I’m worth it angel. I was starting to think all your staring had you rethinking my beard.” You poked out your bottom lip and pinched his bicep. His hands grabbed your hips and jiggled the extra flesh you had on them.

“You could have just asked you damn tease.”

“Nah. I had to make you work for it a bit. I’m not an easy man cariño.” He kissed your forehead as his hands traveled back up to your back.

“You’re near impossible is what you are, Santiago. You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah, that I do know querida. I love you too.” A comfortable silence fell over the two of you in each other’s arms, fully exposed to each other finally.

Music from the fic:

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1800-fight-me · 10 months

Text

Burnt Pancakes

Miguel O’hara x Female!Reader

Rating: M (Mature)- as a general rule for my blog, minors please do not interact!

Warnings: This fic contains life threatening situations, angst, heavy making out, and allusions to sex. Also protective!Miguel should probably be his own warning...

Word count: About 1.4k

Synopsis: You almost died last night, but your lover Spider-man was there to save you, and is now helping you through the emotional turmoil of a near-death experience.

Author’s note: My first Miguel fic! I was not going to write for him but I am not immune to the hugely muscular grumpy dilf voiced by Oscar Isaac.... more fics might come... I am open to requests if anyone has other ideas they’d like me to write for him!

Important announcement!! I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Your lungs were tight as you attempted to breathe in but the rapid speed at which you were falling took it all away. Your throat was raw and dry from screaming. But you couldn’t stop, no you couldn’t stop.

You were falling to your death from a hundred stories up. Nueva York was getting closer and closer as you fell at what had to be at least eighty miles an hour.

You briefly worried that you would make a disgusting splatter on the pavement for someone to clean up.

You continued screaming, it wasn’t a wordless scream, however.

It was his name, over and over and over again.

Where is he? Where is he? Where is he??

Tears streamed down your cheeks and you felt absolutely gutted that he wasn’t here to save you.

You thought he loved you.

He promised he would always be there to save you. To hold you. To protect you.

There. You gasped in relief as a spot of navy blue with splotches of red appeared in the sky above you.

He was here. Almost all the fear left your body immediately at the sight.

He would save you.

Reddish-orange web shot out and reached towards you, and your eyes widened as you realized he was too far away.

The web couldn’t reach you fast enough and the ground was too close. You stared at him, the love of your life, as your body hit the ground.

He was the last thing you saw, and you didn’t even get to see his face again, just the mask.

You gasped as you sat straight up in bed. Sweat covered your body and tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

“Miguel!” you choked out as you reached across the bed and felt cold sheets.

“¿Qué pasó?” he called out as he ran into your room, shirtless with sweatpants hanging low on his hips, a spatula in one hand, and claws out to protect you from the invisible threat on his other hand.

His expression softened and his panic lifted as he saw you sitting safely in bed, but with tears in your eyes.

“I… it was just a dream,” you finally said as he dropped the spatula and pulled you out of the bed and up into his arms.

You nuzzled your face into his neck and settled your breathing.

You melted into his strong embrace, and the feel of his warm skin against yours set your nerves at ease.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked.

You took a shuddering breath.

“It was about last night,” you said weakly.

He hummed, an indication for you to continue, as he rubbed his large hand up and down the length of your spine.

He might be a superhero who was used to being in constant danger, but you certainly weren’t. And the threat to your life you experienced the night before was terrifying.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you. I promise,” he murmured.

The tears began again.

“I know,” you gasped. “My dream…. it rewrote yesterday and-and you didn’t catch me in the dream.”

He made a soft sympathetic sound even as he frowned.

“Do you remember what I told you last night?”

He said as he pulled you back enough to look into your eyes.

You drowned in the deep crimson of his gaze.

You nodded.

“Say it,” he encouraged gently.

“I’m yours,” you said.

“Mhmm. And I will always protect you,” he promised again.

You believed him. Just as you did last night when he stood with you in the shower and washed the whole ordeal off your body.

And you believed him when he pressed his plush lips across every inch of your skin and imprinted his promise on you. And you believed him when you became desperate for him to make you his, to show you, and he filled you until you couldn’t remember anything but his name. Until you were safe and sated in his arms and lulled into sleep.

You believed him. Of course you believed him. So you weren’t sure why your unconscious mind conjured such a horrible scenario.

“Lo sé,” you whispered.

He leaned down and kissed your tears away one by one.

“I love you,” you said, your bottom lip trembling until you pulled his lips to yours.

It wasn’t a soft kiss. It was hungry and needy and overwhelming. It was exactly what you needed.

He let you lead the kiss as you wrapped your arms and legs around him. His hands slid from your waist to grab at the flesh of your thighs and your ass.

He groaned as you gripped his hair and you used the opportunity to slip your tongue against his.

You whimpered at the taste of him and he gripped you tighter.

“Preciosa, you know I love you too,” he said as he pulled back enough to whisper the words on your lips.

“Mmm,” you hummed as he guided you to tilt your head back to give him access to your neck.

He trailed his lips up and down your sensitive skin until you shivered.

You gripped the strong muscles of his broad shoulders.

“Make me yours again, mi amor,” you begged.

His fangs grazed your neck and you moaned in anticipation, prepared for him to bite down, to give you the kind of pain that only amplified pleasure.

You wanted to be connected with him in every conceivable way.

The fire alarm blared loud enough that he grunted and you jerked back.

You looked at him with wide eyes until his lips began to curve upwards and you started to laugh. He dropped you suddenly back down onto the bed before he rushed to the kitchen to take the burnt breakfast off the stove.

You sighed as you flopped down onto your back and listened to Miguel’s mumbled curses as he put out the small fire and aired your small apartment out, getting rid of the smoke.

It filled you with a glimmer of pride that even with his heightened senses, he was so consumed by you that he did not notice the burning food in the next room.

It made your heart feel like it was going to burst when you thought of the unexpectedly gentle way the gruff superhero took care of you.

You grabbed his shirt off the floor next to the bed and slipped it over your head, smiling slightly as it enveloped you completely, smelling like him, and fell nearly to your knees.

You took care of your needs in the bathroom before you walked the five steps into the small kitchen.

“You should try cooking more often,” you teased and he looked over his shoulder to glare at you.

You unsuccessfully attempted to stifle your giggle.

“C’mere,” he said as he practically pounced on you and pulled you into his strong arms. His large body enveloped you completely.

You squealed as he hauled you up and against him before he lifted you up and sat you down on the counter. He ran his hands up your thighs, humming in satisfaction as he pushed the shirt up to gain more access to your skin.

“Y’know, I have an apron you can wear next time so you don’t get flour on those rippling muscles,” you said as you ran your hands across his chest and abs under the pretense of wiping it away and he rolled his eyes.

“The pancakes didn’t survive,” he said, in a deadpan tone, as reached beside you and slid a bowl of fruit towards you.

You smirked at the twinkle in his eyes as you popped a strawberry into your mouth.

“Gracias, It’s still a perfect breakfast, guapo,” you said and pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek.

“Ay dios mio, tu eres…” he started in a pretend annoyed tone.

“The best girlfriend ever?” you finished his sentence with a wink.

“El amor de mi vida,” he practically purred as he pulled you into another kiss.

Your toes curled as he kissed you deeply, intimately, and with such care and devotion you wanted to cry all over again.

As you gripped him tight, you felt settled, warm, and completely at ease. You felt safe, protected, in your lover’s arms and you knew that no matter what you faced together due to his superhero identity, you would be together and he would always take care of you.

#miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #female reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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the-froschamethyst4 · 4 months

Text

“How are you more stylish than me?”

𖤐 Pairing: Gaz x Model! Reader

𖤐 Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐 Warnings: fluff, slight jealousy, language, style, fashion, teasing, kissing,

𖤐 It’s a short one today

𖤐 Summary: Gaz may be dating a world famous supermodel but he had a bit better style than his girlfriend

————

World famous supermodel Y/n L/n was on the red carpet at the Met Gala, along side with her was her boyfriend of 2 years, Kyle Garrick or Gaz.

Her hands rested on his arm as they posed for the cameras flashing at the both of them, some wanting both of them together and some wanting them separate.

Gaz watched his lovely girlfriend act such a natural, he was a mess. Rubbing the back of his head because he was confused on how to pose without Y/n by his side.

"OVER HERE, GAZ!"

"GAZ, LOOK AT ME!"

"GAZ FOCUS ON ME!"

"LOOK AT ME!!" The annoying and obnoxious photographers yelled at him. He just felt awkward, he's not use to being in the spotlight only incognito.

"Gaz?" He heard the sweet voice of his girlfriend, he turned and smiled at her. His hand immediately going to her waist and they both walked away and the next celebrity came in their spots.

They were going up the stairs and were getting interviewed by Emma Chamberlain.

"Oh wow! Y/n L/n and Kyle Garrick, it is lovely to see you two here again at the Met," she says. Y/n did all the talking as Gaz only answered questions directed towards him, which were mainly small and short answers.

"Kyle, who are you wearing?" She asked him.

"Umm~ Prada," he says, showing off his jacket.

"Love it," she says. "Y/n, I'm guessing you are matching him?"

"Yes, Prada everything," Y/n says with a soft smile.

"Love it all, I hope you two have fun inside."

"Thank you, you too," Y/n looked at Gaz, gently grabbing his hand and pulling him away to other interviewers.

-------

"I have to say, Gaz. How are you more stylish than me?" Y/n asked as he pulls out her chair for her.

"I'm not, the stylist styled me, I would never dress this fancy you know that," he says, sitting next to her.

"I know, I'm teasing Gaz."

"I'll probably get shit for it later though."

"From the guys?"

"Yep, they think going to Gala's and parties with big A-List celebrities can be a bit of waste of time. When they see me on the cover with you, they give me shit about it."

"Do they...not like me because of my lift style?"

"Huh? No, of course they like you, it's just if they were thrown into this life style, they'd probably want to leave it because they aren't use to it."

"But you're not."

"I am now. Sure I wasn't before but now, I love it because you love it, you're always so happy and it makes me happy to see you like that."

"Sometimes, I'm not."

"I know, but I like seeing you happy, it reassures me that you are comfortable and I should be comfortable."

"I'm glad, I make you, happy, Gaz," she smiles at him. She leans forward and kisses his lips. He likes the feeling of her lips on his.

"We should enjoy our time," she says, pulling away from his lips.

-------

Gaz's hand was resting on Y/n's thigh, her fingers looped with his, as his fingers caressed her plushed thigh. They were talking with the people at their table.

Gaz didn't know them, he only knew Y/n and kept his attention on her for most of the time, they were at the table.

And like a lost puppy if Y/n needed to use the restroom, Gaz would be getting up with her and following her to the bathroom. Waiting outside the women's bathroom door for her.

Gaz leaned against the wall just outside when he sees Oscar Isaac and Elvira Lind coming towards him. He liked Oscar Isaac, he fixed his posture and made sure he looked presentable.

Elvira went inside the bathroom and Oscar leaned on the wall next to Gaz.

Gaz just barely turns his head and Oscar caught him. He slightly nodded his head and Gaz did too.

"Um~ Oscar Isaac right?"

"Yeah, you are?"

"Kyle Garrick."

"OH! Y/n's boyfriend, heard a lot about you."

"Really?!" Gaz was shocked that THE Oscar Isaac knows HIM.

"Yeah, my wife loves Y/n, keeps up to date with her a lot, and she showed me that you two were dating, now I see it." Oscar says.

"That's an honor to know that...my idol knows me."

"I'm your idol? That's more of an honor," both males laughed together as the bathroom door opened the Oscar's wife and Gaz's girlfriend both walked out together talking.

"Kyle," Y/n says and smiled at him, walking towards him and her hand goes to his arm.

The couples walk together back to their separate tables.

"He knows me," Gaz whispers to Y/n making her laugh at him.

"He does?"

"Yeah, that's fucking amazing," Gaz says, pulling Y/n's chair out for her.

-------

The night was coming to an end and Gaz was holding Y/n's hand and holding her Prada heels. Her feet were ABSOULATLY killing her. Gaz had offered to take her shoes, so her feet could breath.

"Thank you, Ky."

"You're welcome, love," he says as the waited for the car. Her feet felt better.

Gaz looked at Y/n at she leaned on his arm.

"Are you cold?"

"No, just tired."

"Alright," he then bends down and picks her up bridal style.

"Kyle."

"What? I'm allowed to hold my girlfriend," he says with a smirk on his face.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #gaz x y/n #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader

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uselesssomebody · 1 year

Note

thinking about joel obviously and i just

joel caught up in the moment, probably drunk (actually off alcohol or pu$$y Ima) and letting a fantasy of his slip out where he wants a MMF 3some just to fill reader up…... but denies it later when she brings it up..... but she tries to arrange it with some dude and they get pretty far into the process - - like meet up at a bar and hang out with plans on all going home together..... but jealous!joel changes his mind (shocker!) and keeps reader all to himself, probably fucking in the car before they make it home Imao

specific yes but.

you're a good writer. you can do it. please.

𝕚 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 - 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨 - joel miller x reader

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

words || 𝟟.𝟜𝕜

summary || in which the reader and joel do some experimenting?? (just look at the ask)

a/n || i am such a waffler man this was supposed to be a quick and easy response and now it's over 7k?? ➵ hey nonnie hope you enjoy i know it's long. i actually adored the request so much and it made me blush when i first read it on the bus. also, i realized like halfway through that you had likely wanted pre-outbreak but it is, in fact, post-outbreak and set in jackson. ➵ no ellie in this one though, guys, but there is like a male oc who the reader is kinda with for a bit - just look at the ask, honestly ➵ poe and thomas from tmr requests in my asks - i see you and you will be answered so soon! ➵ evidently i am now also a whore for oscar isaac so sen over lil moon knight, santiago or poe requests if you have 'em. planning on writing for leto from dune too - just too much of dilf to ignore, unfortunately. ➵ like very 18+/MDNI content, and heed warnings cuz by god is this one of the sluttiest, smuttiest things i've ever written ➵ not edited (yet) ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut/smidge of angst ➵ unprotected p.i.v. ➵ sex after alcohol consumption (fully consensual though)➵ finger sucking + gagging➵ lotta threesome mentions and fantasizing➵ bitty bit of spit play➵ semi-public sex + exhibitionism➵ mirror sex➵ oral (m receiving) ➵ cum swallowing ➵ cum ig (tell me if i miss anything)

"are you feeling alright?" she blinked up at the man in front of her, broken out of her daydream.

"huh? yeah, yeah - i'm fine. why'dya ask?" he shrugs.

"looked like you'd fallen asleep over there. actually, you've got a little bit of drool-" all grogginess evaporates from her as she brings her sleeve up to wipe the corner of her mouth that he'd gestured to. he laughed at her bugged-out reaction, keeling over, when she realizes he'd been joking - and she hadn't, in fact, been drooling.

"fuck off, man." he wheezes through his laughs.

"you should have seen your face!"

they were the last two sat at the kitchen, serving dinner to the last few residents of jackson who had come in for a late meal. it'd been a long day for her, as she attempted to pick up shifts to help with the town's current shortage of workers - too many out with the flu at the moment.

it was a bit absurd, honestly, having so many afflicted by the common cold when there was a whole apocalyptic fungus about.

nevertheless, she'd finished cooking a few hours ago, and now, her and her coworker were finishing portioning the meals and wrapping the sliver of leftovers for the next day. with only a few people sat around the makeshift cafeteria, the both of them were sat in the cleaned kitchen, trying not to fall asleep.

she'd known him - jake - since she'd been in jackson: her first superior when she'd joined the food industry in the small town. he was nice and welcoming at first, but as they were put on more shifts together and had more silent hours to kill, she'd realized how dumb he was.

affectionately, of course.

he loved to make stupid jokes and laugh at stupid things. he liked to believe stupid things, and say even more stupid things to her.

she sat through them, laughing at his antics or willing away her annoyance at his childishness. nevertheless, he was one of her close friends, and - as much as she thought he was dumb - he was there enough of the time for her to accustom to him.

they're snapped out of their banter by the bell at the door ringing, signalling someone had walked in. they both walk out, ready to serve the very late townsman, until she realizes who it is as they near.

she slips out from behind the booth to greet him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek as he grips her side in a half-bear hug.

"hey, joel."

"how're ya, baby?" she nods, detaching.

"i'm - i'm okay."

"long day, ain't it?" she nods meekly at his assessment, smiling when his large hand presses over her shoulder, subtly massaging the tense muscles there as she turns back to jake.

"'lright, i should get back, joel -" she starts, but is cut off by her colleague's disagreement.

"no, you guys head home. i'll finish up here." she hesitates, immediately disagreeing.

"no - i shouldn't-"

"don't worry about it." jake's words hold a finality, and she salutes him as he laughs.

"alright - i'll see you tomorrow. okay?" he nods, waving them off as joel guides her out. he's moving a little fast - a little urgent - and it makes her laugh.

"are we in a rush?" she mumbles, taking in the cold of the night air as she sucks in a breath.

"hmm?" joel's voice is gruff, and, only when she glances at him under the streetlight does she notice the flush on his face.

"are - are you drunk?" he stays quiet, and she snakes her arm around him, smiling at the warmth he provided, "okay, how about 'how much have you had to drink'?" his lips don the ghost of a smile as they approach her place.

"just enough to remind me how much i miss you." he mumbles, crowding her back as she opens the door, quick to take her bag, and then her shoes, and then her jacket, and then her sweater off of her, leaving her goosebumped in the aftermath of the cold wind hitting her on her near bare front.

she was quick to realize that it was one of those nights - and she sure wasn't complaining, wrapping her fingers around joel's hair as his head dips to meet her neck, sighing contently at the action. his hands clasp - almost desperately - on her hips, pulling her straight into her bedroom, as he continued leaving a trail of wet kisses along her neck.

she grips at the collar of his flannel, tracing her hands over the top of it until she reaches the buttons at the front, eagerly slipping them off, and his deft fingers perform the same action over her jeans, the button almost as eager as she was, slipping undone swiftly.

she grips his cheeks, pushing his lips to connect with her own, wanting to taste the 'just enough' whiskey or beer he'd had while waiting for her.

and, fuck, did it taste good - a harsh taste that had clung to his teeth, which she eagerly licked off. it tasted aged, and rough around the edges - but that was probably just him.

she moaned into his mouth as he pulled her jeans just low enough to gain access to her cunt, swiping his fingers over the fabric of her soft underwear - where she'd practically soaked through the garment.

"fuck, baby - all for me?" his head dips into the small space between them as he moans, his mumble being confirmed by her vigorous nodding and the jolt of her hips when he applied just a hint of pressure. she pushes his shirt off as his fingers continue to explore the extent of her arousal, before he's pushing her down into a laying position over her bed.

he pulls her jeans off the rest of the way, and she rises just enough to grasp his belt, unbuckling it - but not taking it off. when she'd looked up at him, she'd realized that tonight was a i need you - right now night, and his trousers would probably only remain unzipped and lowered enough to take his cock out.

so, she does just that, pushing them down just enough to pull his cock out, stroking him lightly as he lets out another low groan.

"you want me-" though she can see the way he's aching for her, she knows he's still - as the gentleman he is - going to ask if she wants more satisfaction beforehand.

"inside. right now." it's supposed to be a cheeky command, but the desperation in her voice breaks the illusion. it's more than enough for joel, though, gripping his cock and slipping her underwear to the side, only taking a moment to run a finger over her soaked folds and exhaling deep and low.

his tip nudges against his clit, making her hips buck, catching him on her entrance, and allowing him to push inside her.

"oh, fuck-" it falls from his mouth - practically without permission - and his sentiment is shared by her, breaths shallow as he fills her.

"oh - god - that's so good, joel - 't's'good-" her words her garbled nonsense, and the desperate nature of them spur him on, letting out a gruff moan as he bottoms out.

he can feel her clenching around him - obviously trying to adjust to the size of him - and it's doing all sorts of things to his head. he allows her breath to even just slightly, before he pulls back and pushes inside her, watching her mouth fall open at the sharp action.

she was so fucking pretty - her eyes glazed over as she felt him repeat the action, his thrusts determined and rough, her mouth hung open, mind seemingly blank, as not even a word escapes her.

he slows down for a moment, and sees the moment of annoyance fall over her features, her brows scrunching as she goes to question his actions. he removes one of his hands from their grip on her waist, bringing it up to cup the side of her face. his thumb strokes her cheek for a second, making her relent and smile at the soft action, before he takes her by surprise, speeding up, and bringing his hand closer to her chin, his thumb ghosting her open lips.

"oh - oh, my god-" her moans are quiet, a whimper pressed under his finger, and as her mouth falls open again, he rests his thumb against her tongue, watching her features flash in confusion, before she succumbs, almost instinctively wrapping her lips over his thick finger.

it's a pretty sight - in a fucked way - and it makes his thrusts quicken, her eyes squeezing shut and her mouth humming around his thumb at the sensation. his eyes watch the hollow of her cheeks as she suckles him, the flick of her tongue against his nail, the slight rock of her head up and down. her moans sound garbled and mumbled against him, and that makes them sound more desperate - as though she was trying so hard to let him know how good he felt, but couldn't get it across while her mouth was occupied.

he pressed up closer against her, removing his thumb and replacing it with his index and middle fingers. it wasn't a challenge for her mouth, but she could feel herself gag when he pushed them down - and he found the sound fucking hot.

"christ - gonna have to fill you up like this every time." so distracted by his cock and his fingers, she nods without paying too much attention, until his next sentence: "want me to get someone else to do it? watch someone fill your mouth while i fuck you like this?" her eyes widen at the notion, but she knows that he can feel the way she clenches around him at the thought, and a grunt escapes him, his hips stuttering at the sensation, "fuck, you like that, don't you? so greedy, pretty baby, ain't i enough?" he can see the way her eyes widen at his words, as she was totally not saying that. he's sure her small movements around his fingers are the shake of her head, and it makes him laugh, "that's okay, baby, i wanna see it too. wanna see you get filled up-" his words swim in her head, and he's still talking, but she can't hear him anymore, her stomach clenching at the feeling of her orgasm.

she's sure she squeals around him or something, because his thrusts speed up just slightly: his hands are a bit rougher on her body, and his movements are a bit more intentioned.

"that's it, baby, d'ya wanna cum for me?" she nods, and he smiles, pulling his fingers out of her mouth, and trailing his spit slicked digits over her cunt, ghosting over her clit, making her moan come out loudly, "i didn't hear you, pretty girl," she looks up at him, gripping one of his biceps and the hand on her waist.

"please - please, joel, lemme cum - please?" it seemed to be the only word in her vocabulary, the way she was pleading, and he relented, nodding his head.

"go 'head, baby - cum, cum f'r'me." his accent becomes more pronounced as his own words become mumbled, his thrusts growing sloppy and less calculated. it's more than enough for her to oblige, feeling the growing knot in her stomach snap so hard her legs begin to shake, squealing at the sensation. his continued movements inside her are spurred by the clench of her cunt as he feels his own orgasm close, thrusting in a few more times, before pulling out and finishing over her.

they're both breathing deeply, trying to catch their breaths, and she's still twitching. he pulls off of her, allowing her some space to recover, before he walks into the bathroom of her place to clean up and find something for her.

when he comes back out, she already looks close to sleep, so he avoids saying all too much, focusing instead on slowly and gently cleaning her, pressing soft kisses to her crown or her fingertips. she lays down as he returns to the bathroom, seeing her practically passed out, her body curled against the side of the bed, and leaving a him-shaped spot by him.

he slides in beside her, feeling the warmth of her bare skin against his own, and lulling into an exhausted sleep of his own.

she woke up earlier than him the next day, knowing he preferred to sleep in late, especially since being in jackson. she rose to make herself - and him, when he decided to wake up - some breakfast, keeping her stove on low heat so that the sizzle of her eggs wouldn't cause too much noise.

she's in her own thoughts all morning, first adamant in getting ready so that she can go to work - before she remembers what he said last night.

'want me to get someone else to do it? watch someone fill your mouth while i fuck you like this?'

she didn't have a moment to process his words in her wrecked state last night, but her ability to mull over them this morning left her very confused.

sure, she didn't mind the idea of the fantasy - but that's under the precedent that she'd never thought about it before. joel had never said anything like that to her before - in fact, if anything, she thought joel hated the idea of her with someone else, always ready to pull her into him or grip her with purpose in the presence of other people who looked at her with too much interest.

so, his admission the previous night wasn't something she'd dismiss - but something she'd have to speak with him about after he'd woken up.

which, to her surprise, happened sooner than later, when she felt his arms wrap around her as she absentmindedly stirred her scrambled eggs, too focused on other things. she jolts against him, squeaking, but he takes the majority of the impact, still holding onto her tightly as he rested his head on her shoulder.

"jesus, joel - you scared the hell outta me." she catches her breath, tipping her head back onto his own shoulder, and smiling lightly at her reaction.

"good mornin' to ya too, sweetheart." he mumbles, good-naturedly. she laughs at his slightly monotone, unafflicted tone, before brushing him off and nudging him in the direction of the table, which he reluctantly obliges. she plates up their simple breakfast of toast and eggs, placing them on the table as he runs two glasses of water for them.

when they're both sat down and eating, she clears her throat.

"late today." it's a mumble, reminding him she'd be home late again, having been placed on another long shift.

"again?" he's curious - she'd pulled a lot of them recently, "if they're overworkin' ya, i'll talk to tommy-" she smiles, shaking her head at the suggestion.

"no, joel - everyone's sick, it's just temporary." he looks like he wants to argue, but he nods, shrugging. she smiles, trying to cheer him up, "you can put me to bed like you did yesterday, yeah?" she says it as she reaches for the fingers splayed beside him on his outstretched arm as he ate, ghosting her own over them. she can see the hint of a smile ghost over his face, not looking her in the eyes - as she knows the memory of the previous night is at the front of his mind.

"'f ya want that, i'll give it to ya, baby." it's a promise, and she smiles, feeling her own face redden at his casual tongue. then, her face falls for a moment, realizing what she still has to ask him.

"joel - actually, i need to ask you something." he looks up at her with questioning eyes. his mouth's full, but she knows he's gonna answer her, so she asks away: "were you being serious last night?" his expression turns more confused, his chews slowing as he processes her words. she continues, "you know, about bringing someone else in?" he chokes at her words, swallowing harshly and coughing before taking a sip of water.

she's a bit shocked by the reaction, but waits as he recuperates, before he answers.

"what? i dunno wha' yer talkin' about, sweetheart." his accent is heavy as he goes to sip his water again. her eyes widen at the response, unbelieving that, across the many ways he could have answered her, he chose to lie. and, she knows he's lying, because his cheeks and neck have reddened, and he's not looking her in the eyes. she shakes her head, mouth agape.

"i'm not - i'm not freaked out or anything, it's just something i thought we should talk about-" he shakes his head, picking up his now-empty plate, and placing it away without looking at her.

"there's nothin' to talk about." it's dismissive, and, frankly rude. she goes to say something, but, seeing his back still to her, she bites her tongue and rolls her eyes. having lost her appetite, she eat the rest of her meal with gritted teeth, leaving for work after with a noticeable frigidness.

at work, jake's quick to mention her heightened annoyance. first, he pokes a bit of fun at it, before he realizes the extent of it. he goes to ask what's wrong - but decides that she needs a good laugh more than a shoulder to cry on, so he does just that for the next few hours.

he watches as her shell cracks - first from her cracking just a hint of a smile at something stupidly funny he'd done, then accidentally letting out a chuckle and, finally, essentially belly laughing, to the point where he had to hold her up to make sure didn't fall into the large pot of chilli that she was making.

her mood positively lifted by her coworker, she walks around with just a slightly bigger pep in her step. jake had done a good job, he thinks.

by the end of the day, though, she's thinking about joel - and what he'd said last night, again. she can't help the thought of including another person proliferating her mind, especially not today, as she realized not only how damn sweet coworker, funny guy, friend jake is, but also how his smile's a bit toothy, but nice to look at, or how his hair actually looks really good when it's a bit fucked up from his hands running through it when he took a break, or had to push it away from his face.

it was fucking unholy, was what it was, thinking about the poor guy who was just trying to br a friend to her - especially right after an argument with her boyfriend that morning. jake seemed to notice her faraway stares again tonight, poking fun at it, without realizing that he was part of the reason for them.

by the last end of her night shift, she was sure he had realized the slight distance she was trying to put between them, but the man didn't mind, knowing she had a lot to think about from her behavior that morning.

he thinks he knows the reason for it, when he sees her boyfriend walk inside more timidly than he'd ever done, and the lack of a kiss that she'd usually immediately plant on him. in fact, he sits on a table in near them instead of saying hello to her - a distinct difference.

he ushers her out a little early once again, and she smiles, earnestly thanking him as she steps out of the kitchen - with promises of making it up to him sometime. he shrugged her off, waving her away, asking her not to worry about it.

she notices joel as soon as she leaves, watching him raise as she nears him.

"are you coming to mine?" she mumbles, not really looking at him as he opens to the door to let them both out.

"d'ya want me too?" she pauses for a moment, before smiling, as she can hear the hint of a plea in his voice. joel hated when they got like this, not liking the notion of making her unhappy, but knowing that he was uncharacteristically stubborn. she slides her hand into his own warm one, and sees the way his face lights up - well, to the extent that it can.

"you gonna keep your promise?" for a moment, he's confused, before realization dawns on him.

"f'course, sweetheart."

the previous night had left her just as satisfied and passed out as the last time. joel had fucked her with a purpose: letting her know how sorry he was for dismissing her out of embarrassment. nevertheless, he doesn't mention the idea he'd proposed two nights ago. she can tell it still intrigued him, though, as his fingers still exploratively entered her mouth, still hooked by the look of her trying to pleasure him in two different ways.

that morning, she felt more determined in surprising her boyfriend by fulfilling his fantasy. there wasn't too much opportunity to have these sexy surprises between each other in the advent of the apocalypse, so she figured this would at least be a memorable experience for the both of them.

and she knew just who the third would be.

that day, when she got to work, jake felt as though she was walking on eggshells around him. it always seemed as though a question was on the tip of her tongue, and she had this apprehensive, curious, and something-else look in her eyes whenever she'd catch his, and it was driving him mad. if there was one thing the man hated, it was not knowing.

finally, he corners her after the dinner rush.

"what's up with you, huh?" her eyes widen at his direct question.

"what? nothing, why do you ask?" he rolls his eyes, holding his head in his hands.

"you've been acting weird all day. did i do something?" she's quick to shake her head.

"no! no, not at all..." he immediately disspells his worried act, becoming annoyed.

"well, then, what is it?" she goes to argue, but he holds a hand up, "spare me the dramatics and just tell me, please. i've waited all day."

she opens her mouth. then closes it again. then repeats the action a few times. every time, it piques jake's interest. finally he can't take anymore, and lets out a frustrated sigh, causing her to finally blurt it out.

"joel wants a threesome!" as soon as it exits her mouth, she realizes how crude it is. jake's mouth falls open, before his shocked expression morphs into a laugh. she's shocked by the reaction.

"yeah? and you're worried? who's the lucky girl?" realizing his misunderstanding, she shakes her head.

"no, no - we kinda wanna introduce a guy." jake sobers up immediately, real confusion falling over his face.

"okay..." it's a slow response, and he suddenly feels as though the space between them is too small. seeing his expression, she panics.

"i'm - god, i'm stupid, sorry, i shouldn't have jumped out-" she's rambling in her panic, and he reaches to calm her.

"no, no, no, it's okay." they go silent for a moment, as he lets go of her hand, "you thought of someone else?" he finally asks. she swallows harshly.

"well - there's only one other guy i really trust in this town." it was true - everyone else was nice, but she didn't know anyone else, viable or not. he looks almost expectant in an answer, but when she looks up at him with a very suggestive glance, he realizes what she means.

"me?" he's shocked, as she slowly nods.

"only if you want to - i mean i totally get it if you don't..." realizing she'd start rambling again if she spoke, she bit her tongue, stopping herself. he shakes his head, taking a deep breath.

"no - god, no, it's not that. i mean, you're pretty, and - like, we're friends, i like you, it's just..." she watches his mouth expectantly, wanting his answer, "joel's scary" she wants to take him seriously, but she can't help but crack into a smile, causing his face to morph to indignance, "c'mon, i'm being serious." she nods.

"yeah, of course, of course. but he's not gonna do anything - he wants this." he looks contemplative, jaw clenching and unclenching.

"this is a stupid idea." her face falls a little, as she swallows, "but, i'll do it." shocked by the turn around, her breaks into a smile, reaching to give him a hug.

"seriously?" she mumbles into his shoulder.

"yeah, what the hell." she laughs at his casual nature, when the both of them hear the door open, knowing it could only be one person so late into the night.

she peeks out, smiling giddily at joel, and he follows her, waving at the man as well. joel's a bit confised - not having interacted much with jack? - jacob? - before, but he nods a hello to him as he hugs her.

she waves jake a quick goodbye, and he smiles at the couple, watching them walk away. as the door closes, he exhales deeply, wondering what he'd just gotten himself into.

over the next few days, her conversations with jake had this air of just slight awkwardness to them, and she was trying her best to subtly remind joel of his fantasy. she'd taken to sticking his own fingers in her mouth and mumbling about how she wanted to be filled up during their nights together.

she'd decided that the upcoming weekend maybe the best time for this experiment, and her and jake were about to be exempt from their duties for a well-deserved break, as some of the other kitchen staff had begun feeling better. she'd proposed the time to the man, and could practically see the heat that reached his ears.

"uh - yeah, shit - yeah. saturday?" she nods slowly, deciding it might be best to warm joel up to the surprise throughout the day, before the reveal at night.

on that friday, she walks out with a distinct pep in her step, excited to be doing this for her boyfriend. she had wrapped her friend in a quick hug - a thank you for his commitment to the idea - before returning to joel.

on that saturday, they practically woke up that morning fucking. she knew he'd never say no to sex before breakfast, so, as she goes down on him, she mumbles about the surprise she had for him later. thrown out of his pleasure by the surprise, he grips her hair, pulling her off of him and looking at her expectantly for elaboration.

"what - fuck-" her hand hadn't gotten the memo to pause, "what surprise?" she laughs against him.

"'f i tell you, it's not a surprise."

he doesn't bring it up again until after breakfast, though, once he does, he doesn't stop. he practically pesters her all day - on her off-day, no less - for an explanation, until, by about the evening, she relents.

"joel, alright." he finally stops, watching as she plops onto the couch next to him, finding a comfortable position as he watches her movements, an expectant expression on his face, "remember what you said a few days ago." his face suddenly hardens - immediately understanding, but not acknowledging her, "i know you were worried about what i thought, but i - i don't hate it." his mouth parts at her admission, and she averts her eyes, a shy smile creeping on her face, "go ahead, call me greedy again."

finally, his expression breaks, and a small laugh - more of an exhale - comes from him, remembering his reaction that night as well.

"i'm - i'm not gonna do that, sweetheart. but - i don't wanna pressure ya 'r anythin', 'lright?" she looks up at him earnestly and nods.

"you're not - i swear. i - well, it can't hurt to try, right?" he leans further back into the soft cushions, half shrugging, before his eyes narrow.

"what's yer su'prise then, baby?" she hesitates for a moment, unsure how to mention it.

"well, since you - y'know, we - wanted to, i thought i'd find a guy and arrange something..." she trails off, realizing the shock on joel's face. there's definitely an intrigue in his eyes, but something else - a little darker - hidden deeper in his gaze. she searches his face desperately, looking for disgust, or apprehension in his eyes.

"ya -" he swallows, lips parting again, tongue darting out to moisten them, going silent for a moment, "who'd ya find?" is the question he eventually settles on, averting his gaze from her for a moment.

"i - you know the guy i work with? jake?" joel immediately realizes - the man that always let his girl leave with him a little early. the guy who seemed decent enough, respectful enough. it made him swallow harshly, not sure how to process the thought, but being unable to ignore the slow, interested churn in his stomach, "did - should i have found someone else?" he can hear the light edge of panic in her voice, and he's quick to shake his head.

"no - no, darlin'. that's the surprise, then? we meetin' him tonight?" she nods slowly, still unsure of his reaction. he places an arm around her, pulling her close to him, and burying his nose in her hair. "re ya excited?" she stills for a moment, before nodding, a little sheepish.

"yup." his response is immediate.

"greedy girl."

the bar has a quiet lull to it, though it's a saturday. there are a few patrons milling about - in the booths, or by the bar. they step into the warm atmosphere after the cold of the night, and she can feel goosebumps rise - due to the weather change or the anticipation, she doesn't know.

joel's warm - as always - against her back, so close to her that she feels like she can scarcely breathe. his gripping her tightly by the waist, fingers tapping on her shirt - almost contemplatively. she sees jake by the bar, and he makes eye-contact with her over the rim of his glass of beer. she waves a hello, before guiding her boyfriend towards him.

she slides into the stool beside him, tentatively giving him a hug in greeting. she doesn't usually do it in front of joel, but she figured, by the end of the night, he'd be used to much, much more, so who cared? jake mumbles a quick hi to her, before leaning back.

"hey, joel." he also speaks hesitantly, nodding at the other man. she turns to watch his reaction, and sees that the stern expression that he always kept on his face hadn't exactly left. she watched him swallow, shuffling on his feet.

"yeah. hey." it's a gruff response, but it's, at least, a response. she rolls her shoulders, a small smile growing on her lips.

"well, i think it'd be best we have a little to drink?" it's not a question, but it's got the intonation of one, as she looks for support for the idea from her two companions. joel nods, and jake calls the bartender over, requesting 3 drinks.

she only planned on them staying about half or three-quarters of the hous, before heading back. now, it had progressed to be a few minutes past an hour and a half, and it didn't look like anyone was particularly ready. jake had been maintaining a respectful distance, talking to her, and trying to engage joel in conversation, but the other man was dismissive at best and just silent at worst.

thus, she'd been engaged in conversation with jake instead - boring stuff, such as the town's gossip, about work, or about something newly stupid the man had done. she'd laughed - in fact, she'd keeled over laughing at his story, a hand at the bar and the other at the man's arm to steady herself.

though, she felt herself lose that touch quickly, as joel's hands grip her waist to keep her grounded - maybe a little tighter than his normal hold.

nonetheless, through the conversation, she had tried to listen along to jake's stories, and include joel in their conversation, but it didn't seem to be working - and, after the third beer, her confidence was supremely dwindling.

when jake had been recognized by someone else that he knew, moving just a meter or two from the couple to greet the other person, joel had pulled her flush against him, his torso warm against hers as his mouth adjusted to be at her ear-level.

"i dunno 'bout this, sweetheart." he whispers it into her cheek, and it makes her features contort into confusion, but she doesn't turn to him.

"why not?" she whispers back, a bit confused by the change of pace from the afternoon. after a moment passed, and he hadn't answered, she turned to face him. there's a distinct discomfort on his face: a sour expression, his frown deeper than usual. he wasn't looking at her, though; his eyes instead trailed jake's quiet conversation with his friend. she felt a heaviness overcome her, along with realization, "if you don't want to - we can go..." she trails off, giving him space to respond, and she can feel his sharp inhale against her skin, contemplating the idea.

"baby, i you want to - i can, but-" she immediately shakes her head.

"'t's 'lright, we can go. i don't really mind." she gives him a small, almost reassuring smile, and, after another second, he nods. he pushes both of their empty drinks so that they're not teetering on the edge of the bar, and she quickly walks over to jake. he immediately takes notice of her.

"hey, you ready-" he begins, but, seeing the other person who was still speaking with jake, her eyes widen, quick to cut him off and turn him to face her, indicating a more private conversation.

"no! i mean - i dunno, jake - he's not up for it, i think." she tries to be as discreet as possible, but jake's worried expression as he glances over at her boyfriend forces her to suppress an eye-roll at his blatantness.

"i - is he alright, i mean - i'm-?" he's stammering a bit, and she smiles, knowing what he's actually stressed about.

"he's not gonna do anything, i swear." jake's eyes flickered over to joel's ever stern face, not really reassured. nevertheless, he nods.

"okay - you guys going, then?"

"yeah - early night, but whatever. i'll see you monday?" he's quick to agree, waving her off as she returned to joel, "'lright, we heading home?" joel's still looking at the other man, and she lightly presses against his forearm to get his attention. he finally switches his attention to her, a contemplative glaze in his eyes. he hums lightly, and she's about to repeat the question, before he's shaking his head.

"no. not yet, baby." she's a little confused, until he takes her hand in his own warm, large one, gently guiding her to him, "i've got an idea. d'ya trust me?" her eyes follow his movements: the slight fire in his eyes, the hidden smirk on his lips, the impatient tapping of his fingers on the back of her palm, and she's suddenly very intrigued. she nods slowly - of course she trusted him - and the smirk seems to grow.

they duck away from the crowd, towards the back of the bar, and into the bathrooms. now, she's even more confused, as she surveys the hints of the old jackson on the walls as joel ushers her inside - closing and locking the door behind her. there's scribbles on the walls - marker, pen, paint, nail marks - and she finds it a bit difficult to move too much between the space that her and her boyfriend were occupying in the small bathroom. it was quite bare-bones, but it was at least clean - she remembered thinking, distracted enough by the setting to not notice joel's wandering hands making their way to the front of her jeans.

when she does, she lets out a gasp, gripping them before they reach her button, stilling his movements.

"what're you doing?" it'd have been more shocked and indignant if they weren't still in decent earshot of some of the tables - she could hear music and people decently through the wooden door of the bathroom.

"i need you - right now, baby. you gonna let me make you feel good?" he mumbles it into her neck, not letting her confusing defer him as his lips trace over the side of her throat. she feels her hands grow a bit shakier, realizing why this sudden urge had overcome him, but that didn't stop her hesitance.

"i - joel, there're people outside - what if someone hears us?" he's pecking away at her resolve, though, as his hands travel up her body, pulling up the sweater she's wearing along with them.

"let 'em baby, let him hear how good i'm making ya feel." alright, this was a bit out of character for him - obviously spurred on by recent events - but the way he was moving definitely indicated his desperation. finally, she secedes, rolling her eyes as she tells him to be quiet nonetheless. cheekily, he responds, "remind yourself, sweetheart." he grasps the button of her jeans, taking it off with ease, as her own hands go to grip the edge of the sink in front of them, desperately trying not to see her own flushed appearance in the mirror, and focusing instead on the movements of his hands.

he's pulling her trousers down before she can even focus all that much, just far enough to rest under her ass, allowing his hand to snake around and find her cloth-covered clit, rubbing harshly before she has a chance to realize. it causes a squeak to emit from her, making her throw a hand over her mouth, forcing herself to bite down on her finger to avoid alerting the populace of the bar to the unsavory acts occurring.

her other hand reaches desperately to slow the wake of his hand's force, grasping uselessly against his forearm as his fingers continue their assault, feeling her hips involuntarily buck against his ministrations, her thighs hitting against the sink whenever she did. his other hand pulls her underwear down to join her jeans, his hand only relenting for half a moment before it immediately reconnected with her slit, collecting the evidence of her arousal on the tips of his fingers, before bringing the thick digits to his mouth. she follows the movement of his tongue across the slick on his fingers through the mirror, having to avert her gaze for fear of letting out a loud noise at the lewd action.

her bare ass begins rubbing against his clothed cock, begging for some renewed friction and - due to his kindness, or his own desperation - he obliges her immediately, unbuckling, unbuttoning and unwearing his trousers in swift, measured movements. even through her impatience, she can appreciate the speed with which she could feel the head of his cock against her cunt, pressing against her with a striking warmth, as she bit her tongue to little success - a small moan still slipping out from her teeth.

he places a hand to each of her own, placing them in an almost bracing position against the sides of the sink, before gripping her hip, and guiding his cock into her with the other. she can see her face change as she feels the movement inside her - and, better yet, she can see his: a pretty, flushed expression as he struggled to contain his own strength, as indicated by the grit of his teeth and the twitch of his fingers as they all come to rest on her waist.

she bites her lip, feeling his hips make contact with her ass - the feeling of fullness overtaking her senses as she desperately attempted to focus on not screaming.

though, when he began moving, she could feel that resolve crumbling: a large gasp escaping on the first thrust, then a small whimper on the second and - soon enough, full blown moans, echoing over the small room, accompanied by his own grunts and groans.

he lets out a sharp exhale, a ghost of a laugh, pulling her back to rest closer to him as his pace maintained - pushing and pulling inside her with a determination and dexterity.

"what happened, baby? though ya wanted to be quiet?" it takes a moment for her brain to even comprehend what he was saying, and only a garbled noise awaited him in response. she can see his smile against her skin - right next to her completely debauched face, which he also seems to notice, "look'it ya, yer so pretty, baby girl, my pretty girl, ain't ya?" she can hear how his own words are sloppy but unrelenting, as he gets lost in the feel of her. she immediately nods along, knowing that her stream of half-muffled moans didn't suffice an answer.

"joel - i - too loud-" through her mess, he could make out a hint of worry still present in her fucked-out nature, worried about the knowledge of their actions occurring to those outside the room. he finally relents - though he loves the idea of others hearing her noises for him, and only him.

"'lright, pretty, you just can't be quiet, huh?" there's a light hint of degradation in his tone, but not an actual lie in his words, and the events of the evening made it so she wasn't exactly shameful in that moment, so she simply nods. he obliges her untold request, taking a hand off her waist and pushing it over her mouth, muffling her moans to a much more effective degree. the action forces her head back a little, closer to him, and her back to arch. she glances into the mirror, and sees a smirk appear over joel's panting face.

suddenly, his thrusts are faster, harder, causing her eyes to widen as her fingers scramble to better hold onto the sink. he follows the actions in the mirror, smiling as he sees her reaction, trying to hold it together after his seeming measure of good-will, and subsequent surprise. he watches her eyes roll back into the back of her head, and chest heaving as she desperately tries to reduce her moans, feeling the consequence of her open mouth as her spit falls over his hand.

"that's it baby, take it for me, jus' like that, pretty. ya only get like this for me, don't ya, baby girl, jus' fer me." his pace is unrelenting, spearing into her like it was his last time, while all she could do was nod, mumbling yes's that all got captured in his hand. she can feel her impending orgasm, and she attempts to say something. she doesn't need to though - as he can feel it in the violent flutter of her cunt around him. thus, he doesn't allow his pace to falter, pushing into her that much harder and that much deeper, intently watching her expression in the mirror as all her muscles tense and still: her eyes rolling back, her inhale harsh against the top of his hand, the clench of her around him, the quiet sound that finally emits from her as she feels the orgasm wash over her intensely.

her body fully slumps against him, before she practically falls to her knees, hitting the tile of the bathroom as she grasps his cock and takes him in her mouth, lapping at his underside until her also releases in her mouth with a content groan. she swallows in a heartbeat, the musky taste washing over her tongue as she rises again, gripping the sink behind her to stabilize herself. joel's hands are on her jeans and underwear, helping her pull them up over her ass, before she buttons his jeans and buckles his belt as he checks their appearances, head dipping down to kiss her on the cheek as she caught her breath.

"did so good for me, baby. how're ya feelin'?" she deeply inhales, opening her eyes to look up at him.

"good - good, really good." a smile ghosts over his lips, before he opens the door of the bathroom, ushering her in front of him.

she can feel the eyes on them, and - though joel is a little less abashed - she keeps her gaze glued to the floor as they exit.

the one time she looks up is when joel cheerily waves goodbye to someone, and as she looks at the lucky recipient, she makes eye-contact with jake, who had a bit of a shocked, amused expression on his face. her face whips forwards once more, cheeks burning.

monday's gonna be fun.

#joel miller #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #i need you - right now

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ofstarsandvibranium · 1 year

Text

My You-niverse: Laurent LeClaire

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Laurent LeClaire x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

Series Masterlist

The man, face similar to your husband's, thick, brown wavy locks, looks at you with concerned brown eyes.

You look down to see yourself now downing some...really old looking clothing. 19th century, perhaps? Since when did America's powers now come with a wardrobe change?

"Mademoiselle, are you alright?" he lends out a hand towards you.

You reach for his hand and wince. You look down to see a dark red stain on your sleeve.

America rushed to your side, also wearing a 19th century dress. She presses a hand to your arm and you wince. She then looks up at your husband's doppleganger, "She needs help!"

The man immediately rushes to help you stand, an arm wrapping around you to hold you up, "We must move, quickly."

You nod, trying to keep up with his hurried pace, "What are your names?"

"America," your young friend answers, "and this is Y/N."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

You can't help but scoff, "Are you this charming to every woman?"

"Only the ones that come falling out of nowhere from a strange light," he peers at you with a smirk.

America hurries her pace, "Yeah, we'd appreciate it if you actually don't tell anyone about that?"

"Are you witches of some sort? Devil worshippers?" he gives a scrutinizing gaze to America.

You grunt an answer, "No. We don't know what happened. One moment, some men were chasing us, the next we're here. We're just as confused as you are." you give a look to America, letting her know that that's the story you two are going with.

She nods, "That's right."

The man appears a bit unconvinced, but says, "Alright."

"You know our names, what's yours?" you ask and the man leads you to a village.

"Laurent. Laurent LeClaire."

"And what do you do Laurent?"

"I'm a painter." You can't help but scoff at his answer and he cocks a brow at you, "Something amusing?"

You shake your head, "You just remind me of someone."

"Your husband?" Laurent asks. You open your mouth to question him but he gestures to your hand, "Your wedding ring."

You don't say anything else. The three of you remain in silence until you're led into a small hospital. They allow America to go with you, but Laurent stays behind.

"Thank you for your help, Laurent."

He gives a silent nod to you and then America before you're ushered back to get your arm looked at.

______________

After a nurse cleans and wraps up your arm, you're left alone with America.

She's awkwardly rocking in the bed beside yours, "Soooo...do you think we're just going to keep running into Marc's dopplegangers?"

You snort, "I'm not the one with portal powers. Also, since when did your powers come with wardrobe changes?"

The young Avenger held up her hands, "Hey, I'm just as surprised as you are. That's never happened before." then she gasped, "Do you think I'll eventually be able do those badass costume like Thor?!"

You snort, "Guess you'll have to keep training and see."

The doctor, an old man, approached you two, "Alright, mademoiselle," he says looking at you, "as long as you keep your wound clean and change the bandages every few hours, you should be well on your way to complete health."

"Thank you, doctor," you say to the old man, standing and giving him a grateful smile. You then nod to America to follow you and you two are exiting the building.

"Y/N!" you hear a call of your name and see Laurent walking towards you.

You look at him with surprise, "Laurent! You're still here?"

He softly smiles and you see the look your husband would give you when it was just the two of you, "Yes, I just wanted to make sure everything went well."

"She'll recover," America intrudes, "She's strong so.."

"That's good to hear." he responds. The two of you continue to look at each other, leaving your young companion feeling a bit awkward.

"Sooooo I think we should go now, Y/N."

You take a step back from Laurent, "Of course. We need to find our way back home." You go to turn, but a hand catches your arm.

"It's getting dark," Laurent says, pointing to the sky, "Two ladies such as yourselves shouldn't be wandering. Who knows, you might run into the men who attacked you again. You need rest."

You shake your head, "We don't-"

"You can stay the night at my home." Laurent offers a solution with a smile, "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you two. The inns are dodgy and can be unsafe."

"I suppose we can rest for the night...?" you reply with also a questioning gaze to America. She gives you a look as if what you're saying is the most ridiculous thing in the world. The look you give back to her silently asks, 'What choice do we have?'. She sighs and then you look back to Laurent with a smile, "We'll take you up on that offer, Laurent, thank you."

"Wonderful," he holds out his arms to you and America, "Shall we?"

He leads you to his small home a short distance away from the main streets of the village.

At his home, Laurent treats you and America to a small meal. Nothing fancy, but just something to fill your bellies enough to be satisfied. He then led you and America to his bedroom where you two will be sharing a bed.

You look at him with concern, "Where will you sleep?"

"Don't worry about me. I will make do."

"Laurent-"

"Sssshhh," he presses a finger to your lips and your breathing stills. He's close. His skin touching yours. Your body suddenly feels on fire. You see your husband, your Marc. You see his eyes, the intensity and playfulness, the mischief, the...slimmer of darkness.

With a gulp, he steps back and nods to America and then you, "Goodnight, ladies." He promptly leaves the room and you don't take a breath until the door shuts.

America plops onto the mattress, "Not gonna lie, that was a little uncomfortable to watch."

You roll your eyes, "Let's just go to bed."

Eventually, you and America are laying beside each other. America is out like a light, but you...you're still awake. Your thoughts mull over the recent events. Marc, the whole Blue Jones thing, and now Laurent. You knew, from what America's told you, that various universes exist. This means there are different versions of you, America, and Marc.

As you and America try to get back home, would you be encountering a different version of Marc every time?

These thoughts plague you, the endless possibilities, the desire to see your husband, hoping to get back home soon.

You've become restless. You're tossing and turning in the bed that smells like Marc's doppleganger. His face, the way he looked at you, plagues your mind.

Eventually, you're out of bed and stepping out of the room with a sheet wrapped around you.

You make your way to the living room where you see Laurent is still up. He's standing by the fire, painting on an easel.

He looks up and sees you, "You're still awake."

"So are you," you point out, holding the sheet tight against you for warmth.

"What ails you?" he asks as he continues to paint.

"It's been a very eventful day and I can't seem to ease my mind."

"We share the same ailments I see." he's concentrated on his task at hand. So much so that his brows are furrowed and you're reminded of Marc again. You sigh and begin to fiddle with your ring.

"Tell me about him," Laurent speaks again. When you look up, he clarifies, "Your husband. Tell me about him."

You set yourself on a cushion beside the fireplace. You stare at the dancing orange and yellow hues, "His name is Marc. He's...stubborn, a little selfish, but also brave and caring. He's brash, but also gentle. He's funny and annoying. When he upsets me, he always goes out and comes home with my favorite flowers and sweets. He's the love of my life." You then turn to look up at Laurent, "Do you have someone?"

He shakes his head, "No. Many say I'm married to my paintbrush though. I spend so much time with it."

You smile up at him, "I'm sure you'll find that person you're meant to be with."

He hums in response and you don't necessarily know if it's in agreement or not.

You move off the cushion you were sitting on, now using it to rest your head on as you lay on your side. You continue watching the fireplace until your eyes flutter close.

...

"Wake up, sweetheart."

You groan and your eyes open. Your vision still blurry but you see a figure standing over you.

"Wake up, honey, come on."

"Marc?" you rasp out and rub the sleep away from your eyes.

As your vision clears, you see another version of Marc standing there. However, he's bald and is donning glasses and a thick beard.

He cocks a brow at you, "Who the fuck is Marc?"

You sit up and realize you're sitting at a desk. A paper sticks to your cheek and you pull it away. You skim through it and see "Nathan Bateman" and "Blue Book".

"Nathan-"

"Listen, sweetheart, I don't pay you to sleep all day. You were supposed to transcribe these for me and because you fell asleep, it's setting me back by a day. Wake the fuck up."

You watch as Nathan waltzes out of the room and you're left shocked and jaw to the floor. This universe's version of your husband is a fucking dick!

#marc spector x reader #nathan bateman x reader #marvel au #ex machina #nathan bateman imagine #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #f!reader #female!reader #fem!reader

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bensolosbluesaber · 2 years

Text

Moments - Part 2 (Jake Lockley x f!reader)

Summary: There’s no rules for how to cuddle with Jake; you’ve never done it before. The first time you and Jake hold each other. Spiritually, this is a sequel to Moments, but you don’t necessarily need to read that. I wrote Moments before the Jake reveal and felt incomplete without him.

Fluff, pinch of angst

Pairings: Jake Lockley x f!reader, tiny tiny tiny hint of Steven Grant and Marc Spector x f!reader

A/N: Not the fic I thought I’d publish today, but I needed to write some fluffy soft Jake. There’s almost no dialogue in this, which is weird for me. Not edited, but I can’t look at my computer any longer:) Can you tell from my fics that I’m obsessed with Oscar Isaac’s nose and hair?

In all the weeks you had known him, Jake Lockley has touched you exactly two times. The first time was on your first date when you both reached for the check and brushed hands. The second was a few minutes ago when he politely touched your waist and moved you so he was the one walking closest to traffic.

Since finding out about Jake, you had done your best to include the man in your already complicated relationship with Marc and Steven. He liked it, liked taking you on dates, insisting on paying, driving you all around the city, watching you do little tasks. But Jake doesn’t touch you. Three official dates, and just two barely there touches.

You enter your shared flat together, and you turn to face Jake, shifting on your feet awkwardly. Usually at this point, Marc or Steven will front, and you’ll fall asleep with one of them or cuddle together on the couch. It’s not what you want tonight; you love them, of course, but you want time with Jake.

“Well-” he starts.

“You could stay,” you interrupt before you can think better of it.

His eyebrows twitch together, confused. Don’t you want Steven or Marc now? You kick off your shoes, discard your jacket, and change into sweats and one of Steven’s white shirts. Jake politely looks away, but you can see him sneaking the occasional glance at you through his lashes. You don’t mind. If you did, you wouldn’t be changing in front of him.

You flop onto the bed then fix your gaze on Jake. You nod to the empty spot beside you. It takes him a minute, but he changes into his own pajamas and settles next to you, turning off the lights as he lays down. You’re like two stupid teenagers who can’t communicate, but there’s something just a little bit fun to the whole thing.

There’s plenty of space between you. You’re two idiots laying on your backs, staring at the ceiling, with at least a foot of empty sheets separating you. It’s ridiculous. You set your hand in the space between you, palm up, and wait.

His fingers brush your wrist first, hesitating then moving lower across your palm until finally, finally he interlaces your fingers with his. His thumb traces tiny circles against your skin. You can’t help but smile, and though you’re curious to see his expression you resist the temptation to look, not that you’d be able to see him in the dark anyway.

Jake reminds you of Marc. Like Marc, you worry Jake might be scared off by too much affection too fast, might believe himself to be unworthy of your love. Marc has already worked through that with you. Jake hasn’t. Plus he seems to be twice as stubborn. The last thing you want to do is drive him away.

The bed shifts as he turns his head to look at you. Jake has never fallen asleep with someone. Is he supposed to just hold your hand all night? Does he let go when you fall asleep? Should he cuddle you? Marc said you like that.

“Doing great, mate,” Steven says sincerely, trying to calm Jake’s racing thoughts.

He and Marc have been pushing Jake toward you for a while. Marc needs loved, touched, cared for. Steven too. Jake needs all of that more than both of them combined.

Touch-starved. That was the word Steven used to describe Jake once. For so long Jake only fronted when absolutely necessary to the system’s survival, and that didn’t give him much time to experience the soft things in life. Soft moments like falling asleep beside someone he loved were alien to Jake Lockley.

“Think of it like a hug, but laying on your side,” Marc adds.

“Do I look like I’ve hugged a lot of people?” Jake growls silently.

That makes Marc and Steven go silent; they know all too well that Jake has probably never hugged anyone. A moment later, they’re gone and it’s only Jake fronting.

Like a hug, he tells himself.

When Jake lets go of your hand it’s disappointing. You try in vain not to feel upset, after all, it’s more intimate than anything else you two had done. So when his hand touches your cheek, it actually startles you. He must have given control to Marc or Steven... except when you turn to meet his eyes in the dim light you are certain it’s Jake.

Your body follows your head so you are laying on your side and nose to nose on the same pillow as Jake. Without conscious thought you raise your hand to smooth away the worry lines on his face. He blinks at the touch, then leans forward to press his forehead to yours, your noses bumping gently, a few stray curls falling in your eyes.

When you don’t shy away that’s it for Jake. Any hesitation is gone as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer. He tangles your legs together, and in return, you toss an arms over his waist, accidentally finding bare skin with your fingers where his shirt has ridden up.

Goosebumps prick his skin. The position is intimate, the both of you pressed up against each other, not sure where one body begins and the other ends. But the real intimacy is in how your eyes lock and a rare smile graces Jake’s handsome face. He doesn’t smile for many people.

You tuck your head under his chin, nuzzling into his chest. His smile is so unexpected, so pretty that happy tears are pricking your eyes. You don’t want Jake to see that.

Only when he thinks you’re really asleep does he press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, running his fingers across your temple and brow with a gentleness he didn’t know he possessed. You relish in his soft touches as you hold him tight and press your bodies as close together as you can.

“Buenas noches, amor,” Jake whispers and kisses your head again. “Duelces sueños. Sweet dreams.”

My Masterlist

Tag List: @love-on-the-murder-scene @bookfrog242 @irethepotato @graciexmarvel @simonsbluee @nagemasstuff @whovian378 @cringingmemeries @eerievixen @velyssaraptor @lethalbeautiful @mixerya92 @marrigold-2002 @wolf-phoenix-lover @sugarpunch-princess @slytherheign @simping-master-69 @bristark616 @kotonei-molyneux @slasherssexslave @luna-maximoff-22 @fantasy-is-best @dd242 @harrys-tittie @fandomgal64 @7minutes-tomidnight @laters-gators12 @deliciousblackfatcat @rqmanoff @xzombiealicex @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @femalemarvelself @stark-kirk-rogers-grant-blog

This is my most updated Moon Knight tag list. I think I got everyone, but if I missed you or you want to be added please let me know!

#moon knight #moon knight spoilers #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley x you #jake lockley angst #jake lockley fluff #jake lockley fic #bensolosbluesaber #moments #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac fic #moon knight x reader

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hoodharlow · 2 years

Text

Happy Birthday Moviestar

AN sorry this took long lol. i was gonna so something about the vmas and met gala but decided against it hope you enjoy <333

Requested? No

Warnings SMUTTT, angst (neelam says some things she should have) but overall cute shit bc it’s miriam’s birthday

Word Count 6.7k words

“Now I get why you didn't want to sit in my box seats.” Kendall Jenner told Miriam, noticing Jack sitting courtside next to Urban and Zack Bia with his team behind him.

"I don't like box seats in general." She shrugged.

Kendall gave her a knowing look and guided them to the section directly across from Jack's seats.

They were in Phoenix for the Suns and Warriors game. Miriam hitched a ride with Kendall from New York. She's been there for a little over a month filming another movie. She starred alongside Evan Mock and Isabela Gomez. It's a book adaptation to 'Placebo Junkies' and about a highschool dropout who lives in a rundown apartment with her boyfriend (played by Evan Mock) and her best friend (played by Isabela Gomez). Evan Mock's character has a terminal illness and Miriam's character starts doing medical trials to save up some money so they can take a trip. Throughout the film it showed the desperation Miriam's character goes through to make money after her best friend passes away and what can happen when drug trials are taken to extremes. What Miriam is most excited about is the ending because her character is an unreliable narrator, and it leaves the ending left to interpretation.

She got the role back in September, when she was getting ready for the Met Gala, Jeremy O. Harris was also getting dressed by Tommy Hilfiger, like her and Jack, and brought up the movie role. Jeremy is one of the producers for 'Placebo Junkies'. He claimed that it was ‘perfect for her’ because he read the script for ‘The Lies We Vow To' ,her movie with Oscar Isaac, and drew similarities between the characters. Filming for the movie started in early October and set to end in mid December. Though right they're taking a week long break since Isabela Gomez is promoting one of her projects and Evan Mock is gearing up for the second half of Gossip Girl. Coincidentally, Miriam's birthday is in the same week and Jack invited her to spend the week with him while he toured. He offered to fly her out first class, but she had already asked Kendall if she could fly with her.

She hadn't seen him in forever. After Lollapalooza Chicago, she went to New York to work on her Met Gala look with Tommy Hilfiger and Soni, Danny and Claudia's mom. They briefly reunited in London but they couldn't spend as much time as they liked because Jack was busy doing shows and interviews, but they were lucky to sit at the same table at the GQ awards dinner. She went because she was her dad's plus one. Mateo was awarded some type of athletic lifetime achievement award for his time at Chelsea. Soon after that, Jack began his US tour and she was working for fashion month.

Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her back pocket. It was a message from Jack. Miriam read it and rolled her eyes at his corny message about how he's rethinking his career choices because she looks good in a basketball jersey. She didn't even try to make her outfit look cute. She wore some high waisted boyfriend jeans and his black hoodie with a Warriors jersey over it. Kendall Jenner was dressed the same, except she wore her boyfriend's jersey.

Miriam looked across the court to him. She smirked seeing him sitting with his legs open. She typed out how yearned to drop to her knees and suck him right then and there, not caring that seventeen thousand people saw her. She watched him pull out his phone and read her message. He squirmed in his seat and subtly adjusted his pants. He met her gaze and discreetly flipped her off while he fixed his jacket.

Not long after warm-ups started. Miriam and Kendall took several pictures, posting them to their respective social media accounts. At some point Juan Toscano, number 95 from the Warriors, came by with Jordan to say hi to Miriam when Kendall went to go greet Devin. Jordan left to finish, leaving Miriam and Juan to catch up.

From across the court Jack took notice of how Miriam was laughing a little too hard at whatever Juan was telling her.

"Aw, she's wearing his jersey. They make such a cute couple." said Charlotte, one of Neelam’s influencer friends that was close to Jack's age.

Charlotte and Jack had a very brief fling a few years back. He met her in Birmingham at one of his shows. She was tall and blonde, nothing too interesting to keep him around. She became some sort of southern Belle influencer and according to Neelam, she grew a decent sized following a few months ago. Jack wanted nothing to do with Charlotte after they ended things but she managed to stay friends with Neelam and would sometimes get flown out to hang out with her.

"They're not a couple." Jack said curtly, squeezing his paper cup as Juan and Miriam shared a hug.

"I don't know, that looks like a couple to me," Charlotte said in a sing-song voice. She reached forward to rub Jack's arm and leaned in, "what are we doing after the game, handsome?"

Thankfully the game started and Jack could just pretend he didn't hear her. But that didn't stop her from trying to get his attention. Every few minutes, she'd try to touch his arm. It got to the point that Jack had to ask Urban to switch seats with him. At half-time, the Suns' mascot went up to him and gave him a personalized jersey for the shout out he gave them in the 'What's Poppin' remix. By the time the third quarter started, Jack's social battery drained and he wanted to go back to his hotel room.

He pulled out his phone to text Miriam just as she sent him a text that she was leaving the game early. He replied back that she should wait for him because he was planning on leaving as well but he head to check in with Neelam and Chris.

"Hey, I'm heading back to the hotel with Miriam." He told Chris in a hushed tone.

"Okay, text me when you get to the hotel." He said.

"You can't just leave. The game isn't over." Neelam whisper-yelled.

"It's just a basketball game." Chris reassured her.

"Whatever." She mumbled, crossing her arms.

"Jack, where are you going?" Charlotte asked him.

"I'm leaving." He said bluntly.

"Can I go with you?" She quickly gathered her things.

"No." He said, looking over to Urban with a 'you seeing this shit?' look.

He grabbed his things and shook hands with Urban and Zack. He nodded at Chris and was on his way. He spotted Miriam and Beto casually waiting for the valet to pull up with their rental.

"Hey," he said, letting her know he was there.

"Hi." She grinned.

Jack ached to touch her, to have his arms around her, but he couldn't. When they established that they're a couple they agreed to be private. It wasn't anyone's business either way. Their close friends and family knew, along with Jack's team because they wouldn't be able to hide it from them. Other than that nobody else knew. To the general public they were just really close friends that saw each other at a lot of events.

Though Miriam accidentally let her followers know she wasn't single when she posted a selfie of her with Daisy jumping over her to her Instagram stories. Her caption was 'when your dog hears your man's voice and wants to join your facetime.' She had called him panicking and apologized. He reassured her that it was okay. He gave her his consent that she can talk about him as long as she doesn't mention him by name or post anything that can be traced back to him because he knew how his fans could get. Even before they got together, some of them didn’t like that they were friends while some claimed that they're not real friends and only hang out for PR reasons.

The valet approached them and handed the keys to the rental to Beto. He stood back to make sure there weren't any paps as Jack guided Miriam inside the SUV.

Once inside the confines of the car, Jack pulled Miriam into a chaste kiss.

"I fucking missed you." He said, pressing their foreheads together.

"Really? Because from the looks of it you and blondie looked rather comfortable. Are you going to dedicate a verse from my song to her too?" She asked him in a playful tone, referring to the Chicken Shop Date video.

"For the millionth time, it was edited." He groaned.

When he filmed the Chicken Shop Date video, he was asked what the most romantic lyric he wrote was and he recited a verse from the song he wrote for Miriam a few months back. But the video editors cut it so it looked like he made up the verse off the top of his head for the host. Miriam was a bit annoyed with him when she saw the video because she thought the song was just between them. But Jack reassured her that the song was between them. Though he did plan to have that part of her song in another song about her.

"I know I just like teasing." Miriam giggled.

The car ride back to the hotel was quick. Jack handed her a copy of his key while her and Beto checked in. Chris was able to book a room for her and Beto in the same one they were staying at. Will she be sleeping in it? No, the night was still young and her and Jack had several weeks to catch up with each other.

Jack went ahead of her and quickly picked up the things he had laying on the ground. He fixed up the bed and fluffed up the pillows. A few minutes later the card reader pinged, opening the door and revealing Miriam.

She closed the door and ran to him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Jack bounced her bit, adjusting her legs so she wouldn't slip off him. They kissed as he carried them to the cloud gray arm chair. They pulled away, removing their sweaters and shirts. Miriam stayed in her lace and silk balconette bra while Jack stayed shirtless.

“Did this come with a matching thong?” Jack asked, toying with a strap.

“No, but I got matching cheeky panties.” Miriam shrugged.

“You always gotta make your smartass comments.” he mumbled.

“Isn’t that why you like me?” she smiled sweetly.

“No, it’s because of this ass.”

Jack pushed her up so that his hands were on her ass. With both hands, he kneaded her ass and then pressed her down on the growing tent of his pants. Miriam held his face as she leaned down to kiss his lips. They moaned into each other's mouths as Jack kept moving Miriam’s hips on him. He held them in place and pushed his hips up for a different sensation. After what felt like an eternity, he finally let them go and wrapped his arms around her waist as they continued their makeout session.

Kissing Jack was addicting and it didn’t help that he’s good at it. Miriam has known all that since their shared kiss back at his birthday kickback. One kiss made her want to have a million more. And having him all to herself like this, she couldn’t help but be greedy and only want to kiss him. Though that didn’t mean she didn't ache to have him fill her up.

“This is embarrassing.'' Jack panted, finally breaking their kiss.

“What?” Miriam asked before kissing down his jaw.

“I’m about to bust,” he groaned.

“Bust what?” she scrunched her face in confusion.

“What do you think, smartass?” he deadpanned gesturing to his crotch.

“Oh,” she giggled. Miriam got off his lap and kneeled on the rug. With her hands, she opened his legs a bit so she could fit properly in between them. She sat on her knees and gathered her hair into a ponytail. "You know I wasn't kidding when I said I would have let all those people see me just so I can have you in my mouth."

"Is that so?"

"Mhm," she hummed as stood up.

She gave him his back as she slowly pulled down her jeans. She adjusted her panties, pulling them up her hips to accentuate her ass more, and got back down on her knees. She reached forward and undid Jack's pants. He lifted his hips allowing her to pull them down along with his boxer-briefs. She grabbed them and tossed them aside.

"Damn, you weren't kidding when you said that you were about to bust." Miriam noted as she reached for his cock.

"I told– fuck, Miriam." Jack cursed when he felt her tongue circle around his tip.

She spit on it and slowly jerked him off with both hands. She slipped him as far as she could take him. He let out an incoherent sound until she reached the back of her throat. She did it a few more times, egging him on. She pulled away, with a trail of saliva spilling from the corner of her mouth, and kissed down his length.

Jack sat back in amazement watching her slip him back in her mouth. Miriam always left him in awe. She presented herself with such grace and elegance. It was hard to believe that she was the same girl that was giving him the sloppiest head he's ever received. It turned him on more that only he had the privilege to see this side of her. That she was his lil secret and her was hers.

"Jack," she called to him in a soft voice.

"Yes?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

He knew that tone all too well. It was the one she used when she wanted to get her way with something because she knew he was going to say no when she'd ask him for something.

"Can you please fuck my face?" She leaned her head on his thigh and gently rubbed the other one. She met his gaze with a pout. "Please."

"You always gotta get your damn way, huh." He mumbled, shaking his head.

Jack moved to the edge of the armchair and spread his legs more. He bent down and pulled her up her neck, claiming her lips with his. He let go of her neck and gathered her curls with one of his hands while Miriam unclasped her bra flinging it behind them. She got on all fours, finding it more comfortable for her get her face fucked than kneeling.

"Ready?" He asked her.

"Yes." She nodded eagerly.

"If it's too much–"

"I'll squeeze your wrist three times, I know." She cut him off, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "We've been over it hundreds of times."

"I'mma about to fuck that snarky attitude of yours."

"Please do." She smiled sweetly.

Jack didn't bother to give Miriam a response. He tightened the grip around her hair and guided his cock back in her mouth. They moaned in unison. He slowly bobbed her head up and down his length, getting used to her mouth. She took him a little deeper each time. He still wasn't a fan of deep throat but lucky for him, Miriam knew what she was doing and didn't take him with such brute force. Several minutes passed and Jack began to thrust his hips up as he held Miriam's head in place.

In front of them was a full length mirror mounted on the wall. Jack noticed one of Miriam's hands rubbing herself over her soaked through panties. He loosened his grip around her hair.

"Take them off." He motioned to her panties. "I wanna see you play with your pussy while I fuck your pretty mouth."

Miriam nodded. She rolled over and yanked them off, getting back into the position she was previously in. She opened up her legs more so that Jack could get a better of her. She opened her mouth to him, letting him know they can continue where they left off. She whimpered in pleasure as he slid in her mouth once more.

Jack's grunts filled the suite, egging Miriam on as she rubbed her clit. She was pleasantly overwhelmed, but she needed more. So she inserted her ring and middle fingers inside of herself. She thrusted her fingers at the same pace Jack fucked her mouth. A hard smack on her ass, caught her off guard and brought her to her climax.

Jack pulled her away from him, allowing her to fully come. She rested her head on the inside of his thigh. Her moans were raspy, almost inaudible. She pulled her fingers out and offered them to Jack. He gladly took them and licked them clean. He brushed back some of her curls, making her sigh contently.

"We can stop here." Jack said.

Miriam shook her head. "You haven't come yet which is why we're doing this in the first place."

"I don't want you to think you're obligated just because you came, Miriam."

"I don't feel obligated to go down on you. I genuinely like sucking your dick. If I didn't, I wouldn't be down here getting rugburns on my knees."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm a hundred percent positive."

"Alright, you can do your thing."

"Yay!" She clapped happily.

Miriam’s eyes never left Jack’s as she took him back in her mouth. His stomach began to contract after a few bobs, letting her know that he was close. Slowly, she pulled him out of her mouth until only his tip rested on her tongue. She widened her eyes, making her look more innocent as she stroked him.

"Fuck Miriam, let me come on that pretty face." He murmured.

She nodded and sucked his tip one last time before jerking him off. She closed her eyes, not wanting to get Jack's release on her eye like last time. She felt warm streaks land on her cheek, sliding down her neck while Jack repeated her name as he came.

Miriam sat back on her knees once Jack's climax ceased. She was a sight for sore eyes. Mascara ran down her flushed cheeks. Her lips were plump, swollen from them meeting the base of his cock every time he shoved her head down as he thrusted his hips up. Her hair clung to her neck thanks to Jack's release and her sweat.

"You okay?" Jack asked her, noticing her zoned out state.

"Yeah," Miriam nodded. She got up and sat on his lap. "Thank you, for doing all that. You didn't have to, I know you don't like head like that."

"I know. Like you said, if I really didn't want to, I wouldn't have let you go down on me." He said, wrapping his arms around her.

Miriam nodded in agreement. She nuzzled his chest. She tried stifling a yawn but exhaustion finally hit her. She was on set for a few hours before she flew out to Phoenix with Kendall. She didn't even nap during the four hour flight because she was so excited to see Jack.

"Let's shower and get ready for bed." He said, helping her up.

"Can you fuck me against the shower glass?" She asked as they made their wya to the bathroom.

"No, knowing you, you'd want me to twist you up into a pretzel when I fuck you and that shit is dangerous."

***

Jack stifled a yawn as he entered the hotel room. He was in Portland. The bus had arrived at the hotel just before midnight. It was almost six in the morning and he had set an alarm at four to go with Urban to get some doughnuts at 'Voodoo Donuts' for Miriam. It was her birthday and he wanted to surprise her with one of her favorite sweet treats.

"Where'd you go?" Miriam asked him as he climbed to bed. "I got cold without you here to hold me."

"I'm pretty sure you're only cold because you're sleeping in a thong and tank top." Jack murmured, pulling her to his chest. He kissed her shoulder. "Happy birthday moviestar."

"Thank you, but can we hold off until the sun's out?" She asked.

Jack hummed in response. He pulled the blanket, her tiger blanket that he stole from her before he left for tour, he wanted to have a piece of her to hold while he slept, over their bodies. They both fell back into a deep slumber.

Around seven, Jack’s phone began ringing. He cursed and reached behind him to the nightstand. Miriam stirred awake when she felt him get out of bed. She spotted him in the small living room area leaning against the back of the couch with the most annoyed look that she was all too familiar with. It usually happened when they were hanging out and Neelam would call him over to the studio. He hung up and walked back to bed with an apologetic look.

“What’s up?” she asked him as he plopped on the bed.

“Neelam scheduled three fucking radio interviews in the morning and one in the afternoon.” he mumbled into his pillow.

‘Of course she did.’ Miriam thought to herself, but she ended up responding, “And that’s bad because?”

“Because it’s your birthday and I brought you out here to spend it with you.” he turned his head to look at her.

“Jack, it’s okay. This isn't the first time I’m spending my birthday alone.” she leaned forward to brush back some of his curls.

“You’re not making it better.” He huffed and rolled onto his back, pulling her to his lap.

“I know what can make you feel better.” she said, pressing herself down on the growing tent in Jack's crotch. "Can I ride you?"

"I'd like that." He nodded.

Miriam nodded.

"But I want you to ride my face first.” he said, moving her hands away from his boxer-briefs.

"Oh my god, no!" She giggled.

"Why?" He sat up.

"I have thick thighs." She mumbled, embarrassed.

"So? I like thick thighs, especially yours." Jack murmured, kissing down her jaw as one of his hands crept inside her thighs. "I can tell it's warm. Can I please dive in?"

"If you–"

"Hold that thought." He cut her off.

Lyric inspiration hit him. Jack got out of bed and went where his backpack was. He unzipped a hidden pocket and pulled out a leather bound journal. He flipped through it until he found the page he titled 'Blade of Grass', quickly scribbling 'Thick thighs and I can tell it's warm, baby, can I please dive in?'.

"You good?" Miriam asked him as he shoved his journal back in backpack.

"Yeah," he nodded. He looked down at her thong covered sex and smirked, "that pussy of yours just gave me some inspiration for a song."

"I don't even wanna know." She scrunched up her face, cringing.

"Are you still riding my face?" He asked, laying on his back.

"If you wanna die."

"It'll be the most honorable way to go."

Jack checked his phone for the nth time. He was waiting for Miriam back in the suite because three hours before they had to be at the venue. He wanted to spend some time with her. A few days prior he had found a bakery near the venue he was performing at and ordered a small red velvet cake for Miriam. It was her favorite.

Jack tossed his phone on the bed hearing the keycard reader ping. Miriam entered the suite struggling to carry several shopping bags, so he got up and held the door open for her.

"Hi!" she said, tossing the bags on the ground. She turned behind her and grabbed the other bags Beto was holding for her along with a suitcase. "Thanks Beto, I'll text you later to head out."

She closed the door with her hips and placed the rest of her bags with the others. Miriam toed her sneakers off and took off her The North Face fleece jacket, staying in the white cropped white beater top she wore under. She pushed Jack on the bed and straddled his hips.

"I see you kept yourself busy." Jack nodded behind her at the large pile of Saint Laurent and Mario's shopping bags.

"After I watched Oscar Isaac die naked in Dune, I did some light shopping." She said, running hands over his chest.

"That's what you call light shipping?" He asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah," she nodded, "you should see me in Milan and Paris. I empty the stores." A few seconds passed when she jumped off his lap and rummaged through her shopping bags. "That reminds me, I got you something."

He shook his head. He didn't like it when she spent money on him. "Miriam,"

"And before you're all 'it's your birthday you shouldn't have bought me something', this is purely for selfish reasons because I plan on wearing it when I visit you." She pulled out a white puffer jacket. Handing it to him, she said, "Mira, it's Moncler."

"I know these cost over twelve hundred. I can’t accept it.” he protected.

"Jack, if it makes you feel better we can say it's my jacket that I let you borrow." Miriam reasoned sarcastically.

"Fuck that," he frowned.

"You're helpless. Just take the fucking jacket."

"Fine." He grumbled, slipping on the jacket. It fit him perfectly. It wasn't too big but it was loose enough in the way he liked. "Thanks for the jacket."

"And maybe we can go to my grandpa's place in Aspen and I can ride you while wearing it."

"I'll buy you some snow boots so– wait, your grandpa has a place in Aspen?"

"Yeah, my white grandpa's family owns a small chain of ski lodges in Colorado. When they cut my grandpa off, he was lucky to already have his own lodge-cabin thing. We always go there for Christmas with my other grandparents."

"Why was your grandpa cut off?"

"They're racist and hate my abuela because she's Mexican." She shrugged. "Now let's change the topic. Did you figure out what song you're cutting so you can perform 'Yikes'?"

"How'd you know I'm performing that?"

"I overheard you and your DJ last night on the bus."

"Damn I was gonna surprise you." He fake- pouted.

"Oh well." Miriam giggled, pulling the jacket's hood over Jack's head.

"This got awkward." He pointed out after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"It did."

"C'mon let's cut your cake." He said pulling over to sit on the bed.

"Stop! You didn't get me a cake." Her eyes brimmed with tears.

He nodded. "Red velvet too."

"Fuck Jack!" She cried. She wrapped her arms around his body. "You're the best, you know that right?"

He smirked proudly. "I do."

He propped his phone at the vanity so he could record them while Miriam facetimed her parents on her phone. Everyone sang to her and she blew out the candles. She talked to parents while Jack got his things ready for tonight's show. Miriam hung up half an hour later and started to get ready.

Since she didn't get the dresses custom made, like she does when she buys at the Paris YSL store, they didn't fit as well as she liked. The champagne colored crushed velvet dress didn't even have adjustable straps and it made her breasts look weird. Miriam ended up going with the outfit she had originally packed. It was a black open front, long sleeve Jacquemus crop top that was held together in the front with a dainty gold plaque of the brand's logo and dusty pink high waisted cargo pants that matched the laces of her Dutch Green Air Jordans.

She then went to the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. She had straightened her hair earlier that day, but it rained thus making her hair curly once more. So she just clipped it back and did two little braids to frame her face. For makeup, she went with a more laid back look with a subtle eyeliner, soft contour, and some gloss. She felt her eyes a bit naked so she decided to put on some lashes that weren't too out there.

"Miriam, your phone's blowing up." Jack called from the bed as she tried to connect the strip to her inner corner.

"Give me a sec!" She yelled back as she wiggled the tweezers.

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed.

"What?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He said walking in the bathroom.

"'Peraté…okay, got it." She said finally getting her eyelashes on.

"Is this what you were doing when you facetimed me in the orange wig?" Jack handed her his phone.

He remembered when she left for fashion month, she had to leave New York three days in because she needed to be in London for three weeks. Every time she’d call to facetime him, she’d be in a ginger wig similar to one Rihanna wore in 2015. Jack would have asked her about it, but he was too excited to hear her voice that he’d forget to ask.

Miriam looked down and saw a picture of her and Robert Pattinson on set for The Batman. She remembered that scene specifically. It was when her character and Bruce Wayne arrived at some funeral and were making small talk to someone who was running for mayor. It was posted from The Batman's official instagram account. The caption said 'happy birthday to @mdominguezmiller, our very Pamela Islas.' Poison Ivy’s original name is Pamela Isley but because Miriam’s Mexican, they changed her last name to fit her. The writers even hinted that her character was bisexual because some adaptations make her straight.

"No mames." She said to herself.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to be in the fucking Batman?" Jack asked her. "That's amazing!"

"Well I signed an NDA and I have at most like five minutes of screen time. I didn't want to risk them getting cut. I didn't want to be like Madison Beer when she was like 'I was supposed to be in the video' when thank u next came out." She explained as she read through the comments.

She frowned. A bunch of people, mostly white men, are saying how she doesn't fit the character because she's not white and how they should have gone with a white woman and not some 'wetback' for diversity points. Others were saying she got the role because of her mom and how it wasn't fair. Her mom didn't even know she auditioned until she got the role. She auditioned back in 2019 while she was filming 'In the Heights'. The general public didn't even know she existed. Her instagram at the time was private. She barely had 20k subscribers on YouTube, all she did were fashion reviews and shopping hauls. Thanks to her joining in on one of Claudia's reaction videos in mid 2020, she started getting more subscribers. And that was because Claudia had to use a clickbait title. It wasn't until September of last year that she got on tiktok because she did one with her brother. Lastly her Twitter is a mess and tweets out the most absurd shit. Obviously, it's not like they hired her because of her social media presence.

"Here." She said to Jack, handing him his phone back.

His face softened, noticing her frown. "What's wrong?" He asked her.

"Nothing." She sighed, hopping down the counter.

"Miriam," he lifted her chin so she could look at him. "Tell me."

"People are being stupid in the comments." She sighed. "They're saying I only got to be Poison Ivy because of my mom and there are a few racist comments saying I can't be Poison Ivy because I'm latina. It's fine, people are dumb."

"Hey, you should feel proud that you get to star in one of the most anticipated movies ever. People never know the hard work you put it in no matter how hard you try to show them what you do to be where you are. They don't care, they just wanna talk shit. Trust me I would know, me and Nas have a whole song about it."

"I'm gonna repost some stuff then delete instagram for a few hours."

"Sounds like a plan. While you're at it, you should see what I posted." He grinned mischievously.

Miriam eyed him suspiciously then searched him up. His account loaded and she tapped on his instagram story. It was a picture of her with her cheeks stuffed with mille-feuille while she and Jack listened to the director of the Creme de la Creme promo tour video. At the bottom it said, 'happy birthday moviestar.'

"Of all fucking pictures you could've posted Jack"

“Noise canceling my ass.” Urban murmured as the couple exited the storage closet.

Miriam smacked Jack’s arm. “Te dije, he was going to hear us.”

Jack laughed and placed his arm around Miriam as they walked back to his dressing room.

“I don’t even know how you two were still horny. I heard you go at it at least three times back at the hotel.” Urban asked, lighting up a blunt.

“Jack we gotta get you mic'd up.” Chris waved him over.

“Shit, I gotta go.” Jack sighed.

“It’s okay. Me and Urban are gonna go to our balcony seats with Beto, who’s saving them for us.” she said.

“Keep an eye on her.” Jack said, doing his handshake on her.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” she frowned.

“Miriam, you have a bodyguard,” he argued.

“It’s different.”

“Enlightened me.”

“Don’t you have to get ready to go on stage?”

Jack rolled her eyes. He leaned down and gave her a peck. He gave Urban another hand shake then went to where Chris and some crew members were.

“I gotta get my camera, c’mon.” Urban motioned Miriam to follow him.

They flashed security backstage passes and entered the greenroom. Neelam, Metta and the blonde girl that was at the Suns and Warriors game were hanging out by the couch. They stopped talking when they saw her enter the room. They made a face and talked in quiet voices. Not wanting to make some awkward small talk, Miriam went to the snack table and grabbed a slice of pizza. She was hungry. After she and Jack cut her cake, Jack showed her how proud he was of her for her movie role with his tongue and cock. Then when they got to the venue, her and Jack went to go see The Homies perform before they snuck out for a quickie.

“That isn’t for you. It’s for the people that actually work.” Neelam told her, startling her.

Miriam never felt so embarrassed in her life. “Oh, I’m sorry. I–”

“You what? You think that you deserve to get everything handed? If you want food, then go get some.”

“You’re right. I apologize.” Miriam said coldly, trying to hold back tears. She dug in the front pocket of her pants, pulling out a wad of $100 bills. She counted five and tossed them on the table. “I’m sure that covers the slice. Urban, I’ll see you on the balcony.”

Based on the fear in Neelam’s eyes, she had no idea Urban was in the room. Miriam exited the room not wanting to deal with her. She sniffled and wiped the few tears that rolled down her cheek. No one has ever talked to her the way Neelam had. When she came with Jack to drop off his things, he told her that she could herself to whatever and that he even got jalapeño kettle chips for her.

“Miriam, hold up.” Urban called to her, jogging. He reached for her arm, stopping her. “What the fuck was that?”

“I’m sorry. Jack said that I could help myself. I should have asked.” She apologized.

“What?–That’s not…was that the first time Neelam has talked to you like that or have you had other run-ins with her?” he asked her. Miriam’s silence answered his question. “Does Jack know?”

“No, because it’s not a big deal.”

“You can’t be serious! She just went off on you unprovoked.”

“Okay when you say it like that…”

“Bro,”

“Urban, she’s Jack’s manager. I’m not going to say anything because it’ll risk his career.” her eyes softened. “Please promise me, you’re not going to tell Jack.”

“Fine, but if some shit like this happens again, I’m telling him,” he warned her.

They pinky promised and went to the balcony area. Beto was texting, ignoring the red head trying to make conversation with him.

“Want some?” Urban asked her, offering his new blunt as they sat down.

“I don’t smoke.” Miriam said. She’s too paranoid for weed. Alcohol already made her anxious as is and to add weed into the mix, was not good for anyone.

“You?” He offered it to Beto.

“On the clock.” Beto said.

Miriam furrowed her eyebrows. “Since when do you smoke?”

“Miss Dominguez I have a life outside of making sure you don’t fight paparazzi.'' He said, sipping his water bottle.

“It was one time and it was before you were even hired.”

“Since I’ve been hired you haven’t had any incidents.”

“Can I post this?” Miriam asked Jack as he walked out of the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around him.

He leaned down to see her phone, tugging the towel off to dry himself. It was a selfie she took of them in the elevator when they were coming back from the show. Jack was in a black puffer jacket with his back to the camera. Miriam’s face was also hidden thanks to the hoodie she wore.

“Go ahead,” he nodded, grabbing another towel to dry his hair.

“Okay, thank you.”

Miriam skipped the opening credits to the new Bob’s Burgers episode she was binging on her laptop. She switched out of her camera roll to Instagram. She fixed the lighting in the picture then typed out her caption. ‘Happy to spend my Jordan year with my favorite person, and ty to everyone for the birthday wishes.🤍🤍🤍’ She hit post and then connected her phone to her charger.

Jack finally got in bed and pulled her to his chest. They ate some of the cake while they watched their show. After a few episodes, Miriam yawned, nuzzling her head against his chest. She lifted her head and brought her hands up to his chest so can rest her head on them. She looked up at Jack and gave him a soft smile.

"Thank you." She said, tenderly scratching his beard.

"For what?" He asked her.

"For today, I know you were busy but you somehow made time for me. And I…" Miriam quickly clamped her mouth shut.

She almost said a certain three worded sentence. A certain three worded sentence she's never said to any of her past partners. Except for Conner, the first boyfriend she had, and that massively backfired on her. Because of him she couldn't say them to Kaleob and she really adored him. And yet here she was ready to say them to Jack as Bob's Burgers played in front of them while they gorged on red velvet cake.

"You what? You kinda stopped talking." Jack said, bringing her back from her thoughts.

"Oh, sorry" she giggled nervously. She cleared her throat. "I, um, I'm glad I got to be here with you. It's one of the best birthdays I've had in a while."

"Me too. I…I'm glad you had a great day despite everything."

Miriam pushed herself up and pecked his lips. He tucked a curl behind her ear and asked her, "What would you rate this birthday?"

"Definitely in my top twenty-three birthdays."

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