#who wants a man with a full beard anyway?
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Midnight Muse (Part 14)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 3,355
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Masterlist]
Notes: Okay I'm a lil sad for my baby azzy in this part 😭
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“Listen kid,” the tattoo artist across the table from him sighs, and Azriel already knows what’s going to come out of his mouth.
This interview hadn’t been going well since he stepped through the door to Steppes Ink. The guy who was supposed to be conducting the interview for an apprenticeship at the parlor—a lanky lad tatted up with the worst ink Azriel’s ever seen…is that a clock dripping blood for fucks sake?—had forgotten he was even giving an interview today.
He—Brad? Chad? Something or other, he suspects—hadn’t listened to a word Azriel said when he spoke about his time tattooing. That it was his passion. That he wants to make a career out of it. Instead, the guy had kicked his sneaker clad feet up onto the edge of the table and flipped through his portfolio, not allowing Azriel to speak on his work.
He’d seen the look the fucker had given him when he’d pulled his portfolio out of his bag. The way he stared openly at his latex gloved hands as he held the book out, stuffed full of drawings and pictures of tattoos he’s given both at parties and his art focused study groups.
Azriel thinks it’s an impressive show of skill, but this fucker doesn’t.
He doesn’t even want to apprentice here anyway, not after all of this, but he’s running out of tattoo parlors to apply to in town. He’s not against driving out to the next town over because he has a reliable source of transportation, but driving all the way out after his classes is something he’d rather not have to do.
Azriel sets his jaw. He’s more than ready to pack his things and leave, maybe swing a fist at the fucker on his way out. He had been ready to go when the second comment out of this shithead's mouth was, “Taking cleanliness to a whole new level there, ey kid?” In response to his gloved hands. He’s glad he’d worn them, because he knows if he hadn’t, it would’ve been something much more insulting spewing from his lips instead.
He’s had better interviews with the same result. The fact that he keeps putting himself through this shows his determination, but Azriel would be lying if he said that the plethora of no’s he receives wasn’t disheartening. He feels like he’s come a long way since his accident, when he’d essentially had to relearn how to hold his pencils, charcoal sticks, and tattoo gun.
All of that pride he felt is slowly deteriorating like an ages old painting.
“I think you’re very talented with your sketches, but it’s not translating into your tattoos,” the man starts, scratching his patchy beard. He sucks his teeth, but it doesn’t help get rid of the cluster of food jammed between them that Azriel has been talking to for the past forty minutes. Yeah, he really does not want to work here. Not only is this guy disgusting, he’s seen at least three violations the second he walked into the parlor alone.
Imagine if he had to put up with this shit everyday.
The man continues, because he doesn’t really know how to shut up. “Your lines are all jagged, and we can’t have that. I’d be happy to look at your work again next semester when you have a little more experience.”
No. Fucking. Thanks.
Azriel grinds his teeth because he doesn’t know what else to do. How many times has he heard this line before? He knows, Mother help him he fucking knows that his lines aren’t the straightest, but he’s come a long way, and his more recent tattoos aren’t suffering because of it.
Why won’t anyone just give him a fucking chance?
“I understand,” Azriel nods, and it takes a lot more effort to keep his tone neutral when he replies.
He’s thankful that the guy can’t see how white-knuckled his fists are under the table.
“What made you want to get into tattooing, anyway?” The man flips his portfolio shut with a harsh snap. The way he says it makes Azriel feel like he’s about to be told that he should find a backup plan. He has one already, but this fucker doesn’t need to know that.
Who does this guy think he is anyway? He has a bleeding clock and a lion head on his arm for fucks sake. It even has a mechanical eye. And he’s sure that if he lifts the sleeves of his cut off flannel, he’ll be showing a plethora of gears forever marked onto his pale skin, too.
“Every tattoo has a story,” Azriel answers, because it’s something he believes with his whole heart, and maybe, just maybe, this fucker can relate to that.
The idiot has the audacity to cock his head, questioningly. “Is that so?”
“The one’s I get do,” Azriel responds stiffly, and he hopes that this interview is over because he can’t bear to sit here a moment longer. What’s with all of the follow up questions? He’s already said no, so why the fuck is he still interrogating him?
Azriel is being looked at like he’s some dumb college kid with no idea what he wants to do with his life, and he fucking hates that. He knows exactly what he wants to do once he graduates, and that’s to be a tattoo artist, hence trying to find an apprenticeship at a local shop. Right now, he’s starting to wonder if all of the shop owners have meetings together where they talk about the kid in black gloves and tell each other not to hire him.
Either way, he’s beyond fucking annoyed.
“Well, I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me,” Azriel says, gathering his things. The guy looks at his gloved hands again and he knows that the question is on the tip of his tongue so he hurries, shoving his portfolio into his bag and standing from his chair.
“No problem kid. Like I said, work on it and maybe next semester—”
“Right,” Azriel forces a smile like he’s never had to before. It feels like cutting steel, and he’s sure it looks more threatening than genuine. “Thanks.”
He dips out of the shop before the fucker can ask anymore questions.
He’s glad he didn’t even care to remember his name.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
The wind against his body and the rumble of his motorcycle makes things slightly better.
Azriel tries to let the interview roll off of his shoulders with the current pressing against his body, but it just isn’t happening.
Usually, he enjoys the ride. The way taking the curves a little too fast makes his heart stutter in a rapid pace, the smooth asphalt beneath his wheels wiping his worries away, but there’s something about tonight that has him feeling like he’d rather just put on some music, wallow in his bed, and work on his sketches.
He’ll show that fucker.
It had gone shittier than all of the other interviews he’s had. Four, to be specific. Four interviews, where three of them had mentioned his shaky linework, two of them had told him to come back next semester, and one had been conducted by a total fucking idiot.
His hands are shaking now, memories of the accident dredged up from the way the last interviewer was staring at him. He can still feel his beady gaze on his hands, like he was some fucking specimen to be examined under a microscope. Maybe if Azriel had peeled back the latex and showed him the damage of his scars, the guy would’ve left him the fuck alone.
He knows that that’s not how it would’ve gone, though. Guys like him always ask more questions, and Azriel does not want to repeat that story to someone like that.
His gloves are still on, clenched tightly around his handlebars. He can’t ride like this, needs to stop, but he’s two blocks from his apartment now and he just wants to be home.
The fact that he can still feel the phantom touch of your body pressed up close to him every time he rides his bike now helps distract him. It subconsciously eases the trembling in his hands, and Azriel relaxes only slightly. He still doesn’t like you, but the way your thighs had pressed so firmly around his body had felt like being completely doused in warmth. He hadn’t even needed his jacket while the cold rain pounded down on the both of you, because with your chest pressed tightly against his back, your hands around his waist, he was nearly sweating.
He wonders if you had felt the same. Like there was lightning zipping up your rigid spine. If your heart was thundering as loudly as his. If you just wanted to keep going like he did, pass the town up and go on to the next—
Azriel nearly passes the apartment building whilst he’s distracted. Cassian’s big, beat up bronco is a red flag waving at him from its usual spot in front of the building. Literally, the crimson rust bucket is an eyesore, and he’s surprised they haven’t gotten any complaints from the landlord about it bringing the value of the building down.
He jerks to a stop and backs his motorcycle up in front of the truck. Always parking in the closest to the corner, Cassian had said, so that no one can block him in. Azriel hadn’t known if it had been a slight jab from when he’d trapped your and Feyre’s moving truck in on your first day here, but he’d laughed nonetheless.
There are people wandering in and out of the building. Giggling groups of girls and guys carrying racks of beers on their shoulders, hooting and hollering, eye-fucking the girls in their short skirts as they wait for the elevator. There’s parties up and down the building all weekend, and Azriel prays that for once, Cassian has decided to wander down a few floors to find a fuck instead of hosting another party.
His prayers are not answered.
When Azriel shoves through the stairwell out onto the fourth floor, the music hits him like a fucking truck. It’s bass-heavy, blaring down the hall like a goddamn rave. Internally, he groans, shoving his way through the people loitering in the hall, ignoring the more than interested looks he receives from a group of girls, staring him down like a pack of hungry hyenas.
Fuck, he really doesn’t want to deal with this right now.
It’s late enough that the pregame should be finishing soon, but knowing Cassian, it’s only just beginning.
Azriel had stopped off at the local diner for something sweet to take his mind off of the awful interview. It hadn’t helped his shakiness at all, the anger coursing through his veins, not even when his favorite waitress Rita had brought him a small fry on the house and put an extra cherry on top of his shake, then proceeded to sit with him for a bit to check in.
He loves Rita. He, Cassian, and Rhysand used to frequent the diner often during freshman year, when they had no transportation and were broke art students. Rita had always taken care of them, but now, the tradition seems to have dwelled as they’ve gotten older and are able to attend bars and have the money for restaurants that don’t only serve smash burgers and shakes.
Azriel’s pretty sure he’s the only one that still visits out of the three.
His apartment is packed to the brim. He can smell the alcohol and sweat in the air, the stench of it makes his nose scrunch. He could use a fucking drink right now, he thinks, but he doesn’t do it often because it only makes his hands shake more and that’s the last thing he needs right now.
Upon first glance he doesn’t see either of his roommates, and then Cassian is barrelling through the crowd as if he has a sixth sense for knowing when Azriel enters a room.
“Hey, man,” Cassian grins wildly, throwing his arm around his shoulder. The drink in his cup sloshes precariously close to the rim of his glass, and Azriel grimaces. His roommates eyes are blurry with drink, and he’s swaying a bit, leaning his body weight against him. Hopefully, he hasn’t tripped and crushed anyone with his sheer size, because it wouldn’t bode well for the person trapped beneath the behemoth. “Are you setting up tonight? There’s these two chicks that want to get tatted up. Underboob.” Cassian waggles his eyebrows and grins like he’s just caught a glimpse of heaven. “Matching.”
“Not in the mood,” Azriel grunts, pushing past his roommate. He hates every second of shoving through this crowd, bodies plastered against his own like the ink on his arms. He wonders if the loud music is bothering you on the other side of the thin wall, and then he shoves that thought straight from his mind because he doesn't care.
He does care that it’s bothering him, though.
Azriel digs his keys from his pocket. The lock on his door was added after their first party and he’d found a couple right about about to fuck on his bed.
He’s the only one that gets to do that, even if he hasn’t touched another girl in months. He’s been too much of a surly bastard to even want to pursue a girl, and he knows they wouldn’t want him touching them with his fucked up hands, despite the glowing eyes feeding off of his appearance in the hall.
Someone bumps into him and he nearly smacks his head into the door. Azriel chokes back the growl threatening to crawl from his throat, and decides against whirling around to bark at whoever’s run into him. His grip on the knob tightens.
There’s a soft light emitting from his room when he opens the door, the lamp beside his bed glowing. Azriel releases an exasperated huff, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders, but it skyrockets when he notices the lump tucked tightly into his covers.
It’s you, and you’re in his bed.
Two thoughts pass through his mind so quickly he can hardly discern one from the other.
One, what the fuck are you doing in his bed?
And two, who the fuck let you in his room?
Okay, so the second question is easier to answer than the first. It’s obvious that Cassian must have let you into his room, because he’s pretty sure the fucker had made a copy of the key the second day he’d put the lock on his door. Azriel hadn’t let him in when he’d been trying to get him to smell four different colognes he got as samples in a magazine, so his roommate took it into his own hands to make sure Azriel could never be in his room in peace.
The first question, however, makes no sense. You live right next door for fucks sakes, so what the fuck are you doing here?
Azriel stares. He can’t help himself, he’s frozen in the doorway until Cassian’s belting voice complaining about the pop song that the playlist has switched to snaps him from his stupor. He ducks inside of his room, shoving the door shut behind him, and flicking the lock.
He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.
He’s staring at your sleeping form like you’re only pretending to sleep, armed with a weapon and hoping he comes closer. You’ll pop out at him and scare the shit out of him and then Rhys will fall out of the closet laughing and Cassian will burst through the door, falling to his knees in hysterics.
But you’re not moving. You’re curled up on your side, and a metal mixing bowl sits on the table next to his bed, the small stack of books that is normally stacked there spilled haphazardly, one face down on the floor.
There’s a glass of water next to the bowl, and Azriel doesn’t like that it sits so close to his books, despite it being only half full.
His bag falls from his shoulder and he slings it over the back of his desk chair, all while keeping his eyes pinned to your sleeping form. His dark sheets rise and fall shallowly with each breath you take, your lips parted slightly, unbothered by the intrusion and the loud music shaking the walls.
You must be used to it by now.
This is weird. This is so fucking weird that Azriel doesn’t even know what to do with himself but his feet move him closer to the bed against his better judgement. No, this is fucking beyond creepy now, with him looming over you like this, watching you sleep.
His fingers itch and he rips the gloves off of his hands, tossing the latex into the trash by his desk. His fingers flex, and Azriel gulps down a fresh breath of air now that his sweating hands can breathe.
Doing so doesn’t stop that feeling, though. The one where he wants to feel that familiar pencil in his hand, charcoal coating his fingers. There’s a blooming in his mind, inspiration swiping the foulness of his interview away. He need to grab his sketchbook and flip it to a clean page and start drawing the curve of your—
No. He scolds himself, shaking his head furiously and backing away. He trips over your shoes, discarded in a pile on the floor, but he doesn’t eat shit. Maybe if he did it would help clear his mind from this. The way your presence has painted over his tainted night, when he should be more angry to see you occupying his space, but instead, he feels more intrigued.
Fuck. He shouldn’t be looking at the way his sheet is draped across your body. You’re still clothed, and Azriel is more than thankful for that. He shouldn’t be admiring your quiet, peaceful side, not when he’s so used to seeing that crease between your brows and frown tugging your lips whenever he’s around. He shouldn’t be brushing the strand of hair falling across your face behind your ear—
Azriel jerks his hand away from you. He hadn’t realized that he’d moved closer, had been leaning in like what? Like he was going to caress that smooth skin of yours? No, that’s not happening. Now or ever.
He bolts from his room, but not before making sure he locks it behind him. He feels frantic again, like his skin is stretched too tight over his bones. He needs to find Rhys because the music is making his head spin and he’s so, so close to spiraling right now.
Stumbling through the living room to the other side of the apartment, Azriel reaches Rhysand’s door. He hopes it’s unlocked, because being alone right now sounds even better than having to be around anyone right now.
It’s fucking locked.
Azriel pounds on the door. There’s an urgency to it that Rhysand must hear, because he’s cracking the door open a bit and Azriel is met with his glowing violet eyes and naked chest.
“What’s up Az? I’m a little…busy at the moment.”
He doesn’t need to peek over his shoulder to know that Feyre’s waiting for him in his bed right now.
“I, ah—nothing man. It’s nothing,” he mumbles, turning away from the door. None of his questions are being answered. If everyone's over here, why is no one at your apartment? Why aren’t you in your own bed? “What the fuck,” he grumbles, scanning the crowd of gyrating bodies in the middle of his living room.
He spots Cassian somewhere near the middle, a group of girls rubbing their bodies up against his. They’re so close together they look like a pack of sardines, and Cassian is their king. He’s laughing, making suggestive eyes at at least three of them.
Sometimes, Azriel wishes he was that carefree.
With nothing else to do, he makes his way to the kitchen.
He needs a fucking drink.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r
#midnight muse#acotar#azsazz#acomaf#acowar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel/reader#modern!azriel#tattoo artist!azriel#artist!azriel#art school au#acotar au
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BLUE EYES AND JEALOUSY
rick x fem reader (season 5 era)
WARNINGS: mentions of jealousy, protective rick, mentions of injured reader, mentions of blood from injury, alexandria era, smut, reader is over 18, penetrative sex, oral, fluid consumption (cum only), jealous sex, rick marking reader, slight public sex, fingering, clit play, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk, dominant rick, rough sex, loud sex, getting caught but kinda on purpose ig,
a/n: sorry for the no uploads i've been so busy and i keep randomly starting new drafts and never end up finishing the old ones but anyways i've been working on this one for a week so i'm shocked i even got the chance to actually write out the full thing, i might come back and edit some more of it later because i hate some of the details but feel free to enjoy this for now!
-
a protective prick is what she labeled him as, she could see the difference from the man in the beginning to the man who was now ruthless and so paranoid with practically everything that had seemed to been thrown their way.
she looked at the man who's beard needed an obvious shave while he paced on the porch of one of the houses in Alexandria, she could see his hands placed on his hips as his mind seemed to be a running treadmill of thoughts at full speed inside him.
she remembered how he knocked out aaron and about how badly he had treated him, when all he ever wanted to do was help their group, he just wanted to help their group.
Aaron wanted them to get out of the barn to get out of the poor life they lived in the woods because the truth was they needed food, they needed water and a stable shelter which is what they had now at Alexandria, and living like that simply just wasn't a life for them.
Besides Alexandria was perfect for them the community had hot water, bigger rations to feed their people, air conditioning, hell it was almost like the world was before, the way they all had the opportunity to sleep in beds and never had to worry about going hungry.
Except she could tell everyone was on edge, the paranoia starting to catch onto them, the lack of trust as well, thinking that maybe someway or somehow this was another trap just like Terminus.
Especially Rick had been off his rocker, with all these interviews stressing him out, because he hated the camera filming him,
not because of the way he looked he hadn't cared an ounce if he was covered in Walker blood and dirt that lingered over his skin and hair from traveling through the woods.
he wasn't sure why he hated the way the camera and its red blinking light seemed to soak into him, but he hated the feeling, he hated the feeling of being watched ever so precisely with it.
She noticed he stopped his pacing and instead leaned against the snow white railing while he let go of the hand that was placed on the holster where his knife rested.
"you alright?"
a voice called out from the bottom of the porch making y/n turn her head, a man dressed in nice clothes and a clean pair of jeans rested just near the wall with one of his eyes squinting from the sunlight that was beaming down on him.
his hair color the color of a dandelion and his eyes the prettiest honey golden she had ever seen, his hair short and obviously freshly trimmed because she could see some gel in it still from the way she was ever so guessing he liked to style it as.
y/n pointed to herself watching the man nod with a somewhat of a charming smile approaching the steps of the porch, she could see the dark pupils of Rick's eyes grow,
like a shark meeting its prey the blue was quickly swallowed up and turned into the color of soot that had poured out of the prison while it was being engulfed in a heard of flames and walkers.
"your leg it seems to be bleeding, our doctor is great and i'm sure it wont take long to fix you up" the man offered to her,
he hadn't noticed Rick's nails practically digging crescent shapes into the woods his hands gripped on but she seemed to, she seemed to notice the jealousy and the anger that was boiling through his blood, the way he seemed to be so furious over the man before them.
"it's just a small cut, i caught a branch on the way up here i'd only need a bandage wouldn't want to waste resources" y/n spoke with a gulp looking over to see Rick's grip loosen on the railing as he used a hand to rub over his bushy facial hair.
She had lied that it was a small cut and well that she needed just a small bandage, all she wanted was to maybe ease the man who stood envious and threatening next to her.
"not a waste if you need one just trust me on this" the man held his hand out watching as y/n hesitantly took it making her way down the stairs as she followed him, she swore she could hear a raspy grumble fly from Rick's lips as he watched her run off with some tramp.
-
she looked around the clinic, it was nice and well it was sanitary. unlike the prison clinic where blood and some walker guts had remained before it was burned to the ground.
she looked at the man who forcefully lifted up the denim fabric of her jeans up above her calf to look at the wound on her leg,
"well it ain't no scratch but lucky for you, you don't need stitches"
he gave a half false smile before using some rubbing alcohol to sterilize the wound making her bite down on her inner cheek once he wrapped it in a clean bandage.
Rick slipped into the shower feeling the hot water pour onto his back, with a relieved sigh he used a cloth and a bar of soap to clean over his body. making sure to wipe the residue of blood and dirt from the woods that he had collected over the period of time.
the water poured down his face as he let out a deep exasperated sigh while his mind started to wander to her, his mind seemed like a freight train that wouldn't stop itself from spinning in one big giant circle around him.
no matter what he did, no matter where he went even if he was with her, he couldn't stop thinking so damn wrong, so damn erotic was how you could describe the thoughts pooling into his mind,
a sudden snap of anything and it could send him in a mind filled haze of just imagining how good his cock would be inside her, he imagined how well she'd take him, if he hadn't torn open her walls with how large the size of his cock was.
he let his hands wander over his body while he combed through his shaggy hair that also needed a cut, he wiped over his face pushing some water out of his eyes as he flushed himself with cold water to make the dirty thoughts go away.
he could feel the chill through his bones, of course it didn't feel good, but he had to. He was merely a few seconds away of stroking himself to the idea of her being stuffed to the brim, her pussy full of his cock while she was a moaning mess beneath him.
she was out playing a game of explorer with this man while rick was drowning himself with the guilt of imagining her perky tits pressed against him, and it wasn't like she hadn't taken a notice to his staring or just the way he loved it whenever she touched him.
a subtle hand graze was just enough to set him off, to send him to heaven and hell with the dirty thoughts lingering in him.
Alec had shown her everywhere, he'd shown her the garden and all the houses, the food pantry, he even showed her how they managed to keep all of their power just from the power of science and sun rays.
she giggled as she bit into an apple feeling the sweet juices lace over her tongue she let out a moan, a sigh of the relief and well the sweetness of the fruit in her mouth.
she hadn't eaten anything fresh in weeks, it had been almost a month since she had eaten anything remotely near fresh, they all had been eating from beat up cans or even random rabbits Daryl had been able to catch with his crossbow.
"good isn't it?" alec asked scooting a little closer to her as she took another bite before she was even done chewing the first one, she nodded her head eagerly before taking another bite.
she felt like a slob eating this way but then the thought only crossed her mind because she hadn't really cared what he was thinking of her right now because she was hungry, so hungry that she was already half way through the sweet red fruit.
"so what is with Mr scruffy?" alec asked nudging y/n as she bitterly swallowed the apple in her mouth feeling like it had gone sour from his out of the blue question about Rick.
"he's nervous that's all, he doesn't like new people or new places" she spoke honestly but left out a few of the true details about his strange behavior towards her and Alec.
She left out the fact that somehow they had a weird connection, or somehow they couldn't seem to not get jealous over anyone who came close to one another.
it was like a loop that couldn't seem to stop for the two, even if they managed to set a boundary she could tell the pressure between Rick and her was growing and starting to bottle up,
like a soda can ready to explode after its been shaking and well rick was the can in this case and Alec was the one shaking it.
-
Rick wanted to lose his damn mind, he wanted to yell and simply go ape shit once he saw the two laughing from the bathroom window, he was wrapped in a white linen towel,
it dangled just to his v-line to show off the perfect outline of it and well his abs were visible which was even more of an benefit if she were just to stop talking to that man and come up stairs.
Rick cracked the window open so he could hear about whatever the hell the two had been murmuring about for over 15 minutes, for rick it had seemed like and endless damn time loop he couldn't seem to let his mind escape from, he couldn't seem to make it stop.
"Alec i should go, it's close to meeting up with my friends it's been great you showing me around and well i'm glad i met you" she spoke honestly watching the man place a charming smile on his face while his honey eyes seemed to make her heart skip a beat.
"dinner tomorrow? just me and you please? i promise i can cook" he asked watching as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and she looked down at the jet black asphalt underneath her boots.
she left him without an answer for a few seconds watching as he shuffled and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "or is it the big guy that's stopping you because i can tell Deanna to come and handle him with no problem"
she licked her lips with a chuckle at his words, "he doesn't stop me from doing anything Alec, and no Deanna doesn't need to get involved with my group i think we can manage ourselves"
y/n bit back watching Alec take in the realization that he said the wrong words but she frowned softly once she realized maybe she had been just a little bit to harsh towards him.
"dinner then tomorrow at 7"
she didn't even get the chance to respond to his obviously already planned out offer because he had walked off to another side of the wall so he could fulfill his duty of keeping watch on Rick and their group even if it was just for the night and here she was about to lose her damn mind over the dinner date part.
she was surely just about to lose her mind because a handsome man asked her to dinner, a man she had only known for less than a day, but she planned on seeing and talking to him more.
After all he seemed to be sweet.
Y/n walked past the people sitting in the living room up to the room she left her bag in but the bathroom door cracked seemed to get her full attention, she hated cracked doors it was just some damn pet peeve of hers but when she saw Rick who was shaved and freshly showered her jaw seemed to fall to the ground.
"oh god" she mumbled slipping inside the bathroom making sure to shut the door behind her, "you shaved finally" y/n remarked watching as rick started the water and rested the razor against the white porcelain of the bathroom sink in front of him.
he didn't respond instead he turned his head to look at her watching as her eyes seemed to want to glance down at the sight his torso held for her, she mumbled something under her breath watching him take a step closer until she was pushed against the door,
Her back was pressed against the wood while she could feel one his hands lingering and brushing some hair from the soft skin of her neck, it sent a chill down her body as she tried to buck her hips up.
She was bucking her hips up at him, maybe to give him a message or maybe just to feel his hard cock that she knew was surely gonna poke against the white linen of the towel he had ever so sloppily wrapped around his waist, almost like he wanted it to fall.
Almost like he wanted to fuck her until her brains were scrambled, he wanted to fuck her and make her forget about whoever the hell that man was, no matter how nice he seemed.
he used his thumb to wipe over her cheek while his other hand slid down to the middle of her hips just above her cunt where he forcefully but gently pushed her against the door.
"needy huh? well you shouldn't be so wanting for me to touch you y/n, not after the game of explorer you've been playing with whatever the hell his name is"
he gestured his head behind him where he knew the window was, he knew he was still leaning against the wall with a smug look, his hands tucked in his pockets as he probably thought about y/n.
he could feel her breaths grow shallow and raspy from just the small of contact his body had on hers, he gently let her hand glide to the flat part of his abs feeling her gasp softly.
"his name is Alec, and you know damn well who i'm with shouldn't be in your level of concern" she spoke back pulling her hand away to try and make him believe that she wasn't enjoying pressing her hand against him, but hell they both knew the damn truth.
Rick cocked his head to the side softly while using one of his fingers to toy at the waistband of her jeans, "i think you know why" he spoke back watching as her eyes couldn't seem to stop glancing at the bulge that had formed underneath his towel.
"i'm not your property rick, and you can't make me" she scoffed back her eyes finally having the courage to look up at him instead, to look into his that were the color of a blank night sky.
his hands gripped a slight pressure on the side of her hips watching as it was once again an excuse for her eyes to trace down just to get another glimpse of how hard he was.
"i don't give a damn what his name was and i don't give a damn that you think i shouldn't care, you think he'd be better than me? you think he'd know how to touch you y/n? And god believe me if i need to prove you wrong i will"
he grumbled at her feeling his grip grow tighter at her waist feeling her shudder at the contact, she didn't respond except she kept her gaze on the bulge he had hidden under the cloth that she ever so desperately just wanted to tear off of him.
"stop staring and answer my question" he spoke watching her eyes look up at him once more, she licked her lips clean from the desire to look back down at him,
"w-well no, but" she froze feeling his hands start to rub its way down to the waistband of her jeans slipping them down lightly
as she tried not to pay attention. "but what y/n? finish your sentence" he spoke pulling his hands away from the denim that was now hanging just below her hips.
without even such a warning or hint to her action she reached her hand out to rub the bulge in his towel making him groan her fingers spun so perfectly through the fabric making him practically buck his hips up to get more from her, her hand rubbed a small set of circles making his voice grow raspy and huskier with each sly movement of her handwork that truly seemed to be working like a charm on him.
"you're trying to distract me" he griped at her, she could tell he was enjoying it, and maybe just a little to much, she slipped down to her knees watching as he looked down at her,
he pushed her hand away just so he could pull off her t-shirt revealing her breasts being held up by her bra, the bra that was a dark blue color that seemed to blend well with her skin.
he liked the sight of her, he liked seeing her down on her knees while she was ever so willingly playing with his cock even if it had been clothed it was all still such a damn sight for him.
she wiggled her way out of her jeans to reveal her black panties, the hem such a pretty damn lace that he knew that soon he was going to tear off of her to get access to her cunt.
her hand ripped away the towel that was wrapped around his waist, she tossed it across the bathroom floor while her eyes admired his member that was lengthy and hard right in-front of her,
she was practically drooling at the sight of it, rick's cock was long and thick, it had veins just in the right places making it even more god damn pretty to her.
she used a hand to start from the base until she made her way up to the tip of his cock using her tongue to lick off the salty clear liquid that seemed to form on top because of his eagerness.
he groaned softly while his hand reached out to tangle in her hair, he forcefully gave himself a grip at the root of her hair swirling his fingers at her scalp to keep a steady hold on her.
her tongue seemed to be like god damn magic with each way it seemed to warp around his cock each time he bobbed in and out of her mouth like a lollipop, her mouth was so full of him her eyes started to prickle and her throat felt sore.
he was bucking his hips up just a little so he could help force even more of his needy cock down her throat, he could feel her saliva starting to build and spill out onto his cock while her nails started to dig into his inner thighs.
she had a full set of prickling tears flowing down her cheeks from the pressure building up in her throat and well the fact she was trying not to gag all over his cock, she could feel him twitch in her mouth.
already so close and all she had to do was work her mouth,
but it wasn't just the pleasure her mouth was feeding him that was about to send him off the edge, it was the way she looked so pretty on her knees, the way her eyes filled with tears and the way her nails dug into his skin as she whimpered against him softly.
he had been finally able to shoot his load down her throat hearing as the breathing from her nose seemed to sharpen while her nostrils flared, her mouth was trying to take all of his seed,
once she swallowed his warm seed she pulled away from his cock, panting and her throat scratchy from the saltiness of his liquid pouring down her throat like she was a cum rag.
his chest rose up and down while he helped lift her up from her knees and pressed her back up against the door, his hard cock now pressing against her belly as she tried not to moan at the hand that was now pulling off her panties.
he wrapped them around his fingers while he admired them for just a hence of a few seconds before finally tossing them to the floor,
he used just one of his hands to un-clip the bra watching it slip off her body so peacefully. her breasts still perky while her nipples grew hard at the arousal each of his thumbs was giving them.
she let out a soft moan for him as she could feel him the one dropping to his knees to place a soft kiss on top of her cunt that was clenching on practically nothing because of how impatient and how desperate it was for any touch of his,
she whimpered tossing her hips forwards at him but he simply pushed them back and stood back up, he peppered a kiss on each of her breasts feeling as goosebumps formed on her arms.
"n-need you" she whined at him practically sinking her nails into the biceps of his arms hoping he would understand the message and once she felt the tip of his cock teasing the inner of her wet folds she knew he took the message the right way.
he allowed one of his hands to trace into her wet folds as he pulled his cock away, just to give her a taste of what she actually wanted or just what she actually needed.
she let out a loud moan feeling as his middle finger was inserted into her and when she felt his ring finger join the other in her dripping cunt she let her hands wander to the top of his shoulders planting down a firm and stable grasp for herself.
he pumped his fingers slowly inside her watching as she tried to keep back her moans by forcing her teeth to clamp down on her bottom lip, his eyes flicked up at her as he started to pump faster.
"c'mon don't be shy now let them know how good you feel" he spoke hearing as she let out a sputtered gasp at the feeling of his thumb rubbing its way in fast circles amongst her clit.
"f-fuck Rick!" she cried, "god that pretty throat of yours has so many talents" he chuckled in her ear while his hand slipped around her neck gently to rub just under her chin.
it was like she could already feel her orgasm starting to arise in her because her legs shook and her mind was a damn minefield ready to explode with profanity and dirty words that she was sure that she could no longer hold onto inside her.
"so c-close fuck i'm so close" she whimpered feeling as his other hand moved from away from her throat and down onto her breasts swapping back and forth to make sure they each got the same amount of attention from him.
the soft swirl of his thumb on each of her nipples and the feeling of his fingers inside her curling at her g-spot with each thrust was like heaven to her, she was so damn close to letting out an erotic cry once she felt the knot growing looser and looser in her stomach.
"come on, cum for me let em hear how good you are baby" with just those subtle words he could feel some of her juices spurt out onto his fingers while she made a loud set of whimpering noises so loud that even Alec was able to hear them spilling out of the bathroom window.
Rick licked his fingers clean with a smile as he made sure to clean off every ounce of her juices off of them, without a hesitation he flipped her around so that she was pressed against the door.
his cock teasing her soaked entrance while she whimpered at a finger skimming over her clit just to see how sensitive she really was, "p-please" she whined at him her fists pressed against the door.
he himself was so damn impatient, he was so needy to be inside her he could stand the teasing either, with swift up rise of his hips he thrusted into her while his full drive hearing as a scream was pulled out from the back of her throat.
-
"as i was saying Dixon, you suck at go fish and i'm going to kick your ass, i've already decided it" Michonne spoke pulling down two sevens in her deck next to the pile of her other matches.
Daryl scoffed as he licked his lips clean about to ask if she had a '6' but a loud sound coming from the bathroom stopped him, the door was rattling as a rhythmic pounding noise was coming through.
he could hear a loud cry as he furrowed his brows and looked over at the others, Glenn sat up and Rosita tossed down her knife and the piece of wood she had been whittling away at.
another cry emerged as Daryl stood up in a slight crouch position and pulled up his crossbow but Sasha grabbed his arm and forced him to put it down.
the pounding seemed to go on forever along with the set of screams that started to flood out of the bathroom, it was y/n crying and moaning aloud for Rick.
They could hear her muffled profanities faintly while the pounding didn't seem to stop, "fuck rick! god dammit right there!" she screamed so loud that they were all sure even all of the houses and buildings surrounding them had surely heard it.
"so fuckin tight this pussy" they heard a loud groan and a whine back in response, the door shaking so much from her body being pressed up against it, her tits smushed against the wood while her nipples were perky from the slight coldness it was pressing on her with.
his cock was buried so deep inside her she swore that he was re-arranging every single organ in her stomach maybe his cock had even skimmed past her own heart that's surely what it felt like to be this full of him, to be filled to the brim so much that she had tears flowing down her face and her hair a scrambled mess.
"you think Alec could fuck you like this?" rick asked bitterly as he held onto her waist to fuck into her even deeper, "n-no!" she cried almost sounding like another whimper from her.
"so fucking close" she whined so loud that she could practically feel the vibrations of her own cries, she was letting out a series of pleasureful moans while she felt his cock twitch inside her.
"i should fill you up for being so bad today" he huffed into her tugging a piece of her hair hearing a moan return back to him, he groaned feeling as his cock twitched inside her while her walls clenched around him hoping to spill its juices.
"gonna c-cum oh f-fuck!" she practically screamed feeling his hand slip around to her front to rub against her sensitive clit only making her even closer and once both of their knots untied they both let out a series of profanity while they panted.
rick could hear her whine when he pulled out of her with a soft 'pop' sound that seemed to make her legs wobble without the stability of his hands on her body, she flipped around to see him grab a rag and putting some water from the faucet on it.
he gently spread her legs while he wiped his cum clean from her, even though he loved the feeling when he thought about watching it pour from the walls of her cunt.
she hissed softly watching as rick grabbed a fresh rag to clean himself off, he helped to get her dressed by slipping back on her clothes letting them slip onto her body, she thanked him while watching him change into the fresh pair of clothes he had laid out for him after his shower.
he followed her down the stair case to see all of their friends staring at them, Rosita rolled her eyes in a slight disgust and got up to grab something from the kitchen.
Rick had been so lucky that he placed Judith and Carl in a different house with Jessie and their son Ron, maybe just to get Carl around more kids to keep him somewhat a normal person,
Daryl shook his head at y/n while he had put his crossbow against the white wall next to him, "thought a walker got in but it's just ya two fuckin" he scoffed watching as Michonne practically choked on the glass of water she was sipping on.
she coughed with a smile on her face trying to hold back the disgust and the laughter all at once, "oh god you two are horrible!" glenn piped in watching as his wife chuckled a little.
"you two fuck like dogs!" y/n remarked back taking a seat against one of the cushions rested on the floor for her, "one time in the guard tower doesn't count!" Glenn huffed back watching as Maggie raised her eyebrows while her eyes widened a little.
"that's disgusting you know i used to keep watch in that tower!"
y/n shuddered at the thought of her two best friends having sex with each other but it couldn't be as bad as hearing Rick and her going at it upstairs.
-
Alec flicked his eyes up to look at y/n who planted a kiss on Rick's cheek before she made her approach towards him, he took a bite from his oatmeal bitterly swallowing it while he looked at her.
"you were sweet trust me Alec i just have something else waiting for me i'm sorry" she spoke, she hadn't felt that bad about it, even though the situation did seem pretty shitty.
"i was only gonna pity fuck you anyways i haven't had action since this bullshit started so don't get to excited" he spoke the truth, she could tell he wasn't lying which is why she hadn't said another word instead she walked back over to her friends.
"god if he knew what an actual fuck was" she mumbled watching as rick furrowed his brows, "what?" he asked rubbing the sides of her waist watching as she smiled at him, "i think alec understands now" she spoke proudly while feeling Rick press a kiss against her neck.
"good"
#rickgrimesmut#rick smut#rick twd#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes#twd#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead fic#the walking dead#fem reader smut#rick grimes smut#grimessmut#daryl fanfiction#twd fanfiction#explorepage#carl grimes#carl grimes x reader
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Spotter!141 this time is the captain of my heart, Price. Look at him! He's a bloody unit.
It was back day, and you were squatting down to raise the bar between your legs. The lifting belt around your waist is tight and with an exhale you tighten your grip on the t-bar row handle— hissing at the callouses on your hands— and lift.
Your legs are bent as you lower the bar with control before raising it again, plates hitting your sternum. Your back is on fire, drops of sweat dripping off of your forehead, and with one last rep, you let go of the handle.
Breathing heavily, you bend over to pick up your aminos when as you turn around, you see him. A tall man, broad and muscular with ice-blue eyes, and a mutton chop beard— and he’s pointing at the bar by your feet.
You take one earphone out and look at him.
“You mind if I work in with you?”
Giving him a thumbs up, he sets his gym bag by yours and grabs one, two then 3 plates. Guess that explains the wings he could fly away with. He does his set and you try to not stare at his vascular thick forearms, the way his traps bunch up with every up motion— or the grunts he lets out from deep in his chest with every rep. Jesus Christ.
It’s your turn now, and after he removes the plates he used, you get into position when a gentle tap on your arm gets your attention. It’s your temporary gym buddy.
“Your form looks great but you could make some adjustments. If I may?” and well, you’d never turn down help from someone who clearly knows what he’s doing.
You nod and then he says, “Get into the starting position.” The authoritative tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine. Always weak to men with accents.
Squatting down, you pick up the bar and before you even get a rep in, he says, “Hold.”
His commanding voice is going to ruin you. He snaps you out of your inner musings when he approaches you to fix your posture. A large hand pressing into your lower back— almost upper glutes.
With a little more strength, he pushes your hips down further as he murmurs, “Lower,”
and now you’re definitely being a reprobate.
“Good. You want to be going into a partial romanian deadlift in order to get the full extension of the row.”
You wonder if you could partial RDL on that co—
“Y’okay, love? You’re not hurting or anything, eh?”
Blushing, you nod aggressively, as if to physically shake off your filthy thoughts.
“Yeah, yeah I’m finished with my workout anyway. Thank you for the help!” you grin at him and the soft smile he returns makes your heart flutter. Damn.
“Of course. If you ever want to workout together again, I usually arrive at 7. Look f’me.” then his soft blue eyes look at yours, “I’m John.”
Cheeks burning up, you tell him your name and he just says, “I know, love. I always notice when you’re here.”
And if that isn’t him giving you the green light to jump his bones, you don't know what is.
#call of duty#cod mw2#cod mwii#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#captain john price#captain price x reader#drabble
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Midnight kisses
Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: Jackson celebrates the New Year’s Eve, and you're thinking about finally confessing to your crush how much you like him. but Joel Miller, the object of your affections, might have other plans in mind. (based on this adorable request!!)
Tags: FLUFF my beloved 🥰, Joel is very flirty in this one, lots of crushinggg, just old sweet mutual pining (also they're both lovesick idiots)
Warnings: mentions of alcohol and being drunk, jealousy, age difference
Word count: 5.4K
A/N: i had a lot of fun with this one 🥰 thank you so much once again for the request, dear, i hope you'll like what i came up with. (btw this was supposed to be a short fic but it seems i'm unable to write one 😔) still i hope yall will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
The party was in a full swing.
You didn’t expect anything else from the Jackson community. Ever since you arrived here, you were astounded by the effort that the people living in this small town were making to create a life as normal and joyous as possible – for their children and themselves. And today, on New Year’s Eve, they outdid themselves. There was food, music and drinks – almost as if the apocalypse outside those walls never happened.
You were sitting by one of the tables, sipping on your beverage while you waited for your friend, Angie, to arrive. Dancing alone didn’t sound like an appealing idea, so while you waited for her, you opted for some people-watching – though if you were honest with yourself, it was more like ‘person-watching’.
Your eyes strayed to a figure on the opposite side of the room for like a twentieth time, but you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to. Because there stood a man who still, even after more than a year of knowing him, made the butterflies in your stomach take flight.
Joel Miller.
He looked really good in a clean flannel and fitting jeans, you conceded. His hair was slightly wet, like he washed it just before coming to the party, and combed a little to the back, making the silver strands in his hair and beard shine in the low lights. You found yourself unable to look away or get rid of that stupid grin on your face that lingered when Joel smiled lopsidedly at something his brother said. The muscles in his arm bulged when he lifted his glass to take a sip, and you watched the lines of his neck when his throat bobbed...
“You’re ogling,” murmured a voice next to your ear, and you jumped a little in surprise. Next to you stood Angie, smirking at you.
“Jesus, Angie.” You put your hand on your chest, your heart pounding rapidly. “A ’hello’ would be nice.”
Your friend knew, of course, about your massive crush on Joel Miller, and you thought more than a year of pining on your part would cause her to grow bored of all the jokes and teasing that she threw your way. Apparently, you were wrong.
“Hello,” she said, then sat down on the other chair and leaned closer to you with a wide smile. “You’re ogling. In a room full of people, may I add.”
“I’m not,” you murmured defensibly, but your face grew warm at the realization that she caught you. “How long have you been standing here, anyway?”
“Like half a minute. By the way, you’re also drooling.”
“I’m not!” you repeated, now in an irritated whisper. You knew you weren’t drooling, but still had to refrain yourself from wiping your mouth, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. “Stop making things up.”
“You should just go talk to him.” Angie casually nodded in Joel’s direction. “He didn’t come with a date, sooo…”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s waiting for someone.”
“Uh, duh!” Angie flicked you on the forehead, and you hissed. “For you to make a move. You can… oh, I know!” she bounced in her seat excitedly and clapped her hands. “Ask him to dance with you!”
You almost snorted. “Joel Miller dancing? Sure. He wouldn’t agree even if he did like me.”
“He does like you. Jesus, you flirt with each other all the time.” The smile disappeared from her lips and she rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you’d have to be blind and deaf not to notice. And maybe dead.”
“There’s no flirting, I told you.” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at the object of your affection. “He talks in this way to everyone.”
“He never called me ‘darling’,” Angie retorted. “Or gave me his jacket when we got caught up in the rain.”
You smiled softly at the memory, but that just made you feel even more hopeless, because since that day, you weren’t able to have a normal conversation with the man you liked so much.
“What do I do?” you whined, leaning on the table. “He’s so beautiful. And he for sure doesn’t see me that way.”
“Are you drunk already? You said you didn’t want a repeat from–”
“–from last year, yeah,” you finished for her and sighed. “I’m not drunk, just feeling down. There’s no way I’ll be able to tell him I like him, Angie.”
“Maybe you won’t have to.” Your friend nudged you gently. “You can just inconspicuously take him under one of the mistletoe and go ‘oh, what’s that?’, and then…”
“What mistletoe?” you asked, only now looking up at the ceiling where familiar-looking leaves were tied with a string to the support beams under the ceiling and above the doors. “Why is there mistletoe hanging?” you asked skeptically. “It’s a New Year’s Eve party.”
“I think they haven’t taken it down since last week.” Angie shrugged, but then grinned at you. “Don’t you think it’s a sign, though? So many places to kiss your crush under~...”
���Jesus, keep your voice down,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands again. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re impossible,” she mocked in a low voice. “I’m trying to help.”
“I know, babe,” you whined, and sighed heavily again. “You know what, maybe I should just forget it. Let’s go have fun, dance, and later throw up from all the food and…”
Suddenly, Angie interrupted you with a high noise in her throat. You gave her a questioning look and she looked at you with a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes.
“He’s coming here.”
“What?!” You automatically turned around before Angie hissed for you not to look, and sure enough, there was Joel Miller, making his way through the crowd with his eyes locked on you. “Oh my god,” you breathed, clutching at your friend’s hand. “He must’ve seen us talking. What do I do?”
“You sit there and look smoking hot, and let him flirt with you,” she answered with confidence you didn’t feel. “And maybe you won’t even need to ask for the kiss, maybe he’ll do it for–” Her eyes darted above your shoulder. “Oh, hey, Miller.”
You gulped and took a deep breath before turning around and– oh, God, he looked even better up close.
Angie kicked you lightly under the table when you didn’t say anything, and you cleared your throat, smiling up at the man you were so crazy about. “Uhm, hi, Jo– Mr Miller.”
“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name, sugar?” He had kind of a boyish smile on his face that made him look younger and even more handsome, which in turn made your stomach fill with warmth. He sat down next to you, and his eyes scanned you down and back up, slowly, lingering on your legs and curves just for a second longer. “You look lovely.” He then glanced at Angie, sending her a nod. “Both of you.”
“Really?” you beamed, and Angie kicked your ankle again, making you wince. “Uhm, thanks. You clean up nicely yourself.”
A trace of smirk ran across his face, but it was gone before you could make sure it was really there in the first place.
“Are you enjoyin’ the party?” he asked casually, hiding one hand in the front pocket of his jeans. Your eyes followed his movement before you caught yourself.
“Y-yeah, it’s nice. A little too loud for me, but really nice.”
“Maybe you wanna step outside for a bit, then?” Joel nodded in the direction of the deck in the back, and your heart started beating faster.
Did he want to be alone with you? Or was just being polite and preferred to talk somewhere quieter, and you were getting your hopes up unnecessarily? You hoped it was the first, that he genuinely enjoyed chatting with you as much as you did with him – but you never knew with a man like Joel Miller. He was an enigma, sometimes serious and so stoic that you couldn’t for the world figure out what was going on in his head, and other times charming and teasing, making you weak in the knees when he was looking at you with that fiery glint in his eyes…
“Sugar?” Joel asked, lifting his eyebrows with what seemed to be amusement, and you cursed yourself mentally for spacing out.
“Sorry, I… Yes, let’s– sure, let’s go.”
All of you stood up and you looked over your shoulder at Angie with a panicked face, but instead of reassuring you, she sent you a quick, sly grin.
“You two go ahead,” she chirped. “I’m gonna go look for my date.”
“Angie–” you whispered, giving her a look, but the woman just winked and turned around, disappearing into the crowd of dancing people. “Angie!”
Before you could go after her, you felt a big, warm hand on the small of your back, and your entire body tensed. Joel leaned over to your ear, whispering in a low voice.
“Shall we?”
“Yeah,” you squealed, so quietly he probably didn’t hear it over the loud music. “Sure.”
Your legs moved on their own, going where he guided you. The walk to the terrace in the back lasted no longer than fifteen seconds, but it felt like hours had passed. You were very aware of the light pressure of his fingertips on your back, with only one layer of material separating your skin from his, and the nerves of feeling him so close behind you were making you walk stiffly and oddly – though, miraculously, he didn’t seem to notice.
“I don’t like how loud the music is, either,” Joel said after you two exited the main room, and he closed the door. Then he glanced at you again, his eyes flicking to your bare legs just for a second longer. “Are you cold?”
“No,” you answered truthfully. Not only was it nice to feel the cool air after sitting in a stuffy room with a crowd of people for so long, but also you still felt warm from Joel’s closeness. “I’m alright.” Joel nodded absentmindedly, and you squinted. “Did you want to talk about something or…”
“Nah, just wanted to escape for a minute.” He rubbed his beard and shrugged, but there was tightness to his body language. “Not much to do in there except for drinkin’.”
“And dancing,” you cut in.
Joel glanced at you, and the lazy smirk returned onto his features.
“You like to dance, sweet girl?” he asked, and you felt your face growing hot when you heard his tone. Low, drawling and oh, so delicious.
“If the party is good, yes, I guess so.” Then you remembered what Angie suggested earlier, and you took a shaky breath, mustering all the courage you had in you. “We… if you want, we could dance a little later, if they play something nice…?”
But the hot nerves in your chest turned to cold disappointment when Joel started to shake his head with a chuckle. “Nah, darlin’. Sorry, I don’t… I’m no dancer.”
“Noone here is,” you retorted, a bit hurt by how quick his rejection was. “It’s just for fun.”
“I know better ways to have fun than t’make an idiot of myself in front of bunch of people.”
“Like what?”
Of course, you just had to ask.
Joel smirked, as if he was just waiting for it, and took a step forward, forcing you to take one backwards. His brown eyes bored into yours, making you weak in your knees, and you promptly turned your gaze away, not able to withstand the tension in the air. With a cough, you walked up to the wooden railing, pretending that you weren’t feeling sheepish at all.
“For one, talkin’ here with you is fun enough for me.”
You forced yourself to look at Joel when you heard it, just to see if he’s joking, but the man appeared genuine. He leaned against the rails, his hand right next to your shoulder, and you couldn’t get rid of the thought of how easy it’d be for him to cage you in this spot with his strong arms, how he’d make your entire body tremble…
But you weren’t quite sure yet if he was being sweet or just tried to mess with you, so you decided that a teasing response would be the best course of action.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged lightly. “I’d still like to find someone to dance with tonight.”
At that, Joel’s hand gripped the railing tighter and his body stiffened. You had to hide a triumphant smirk on your face, pleased that you managed to throw him off his game – whatever it was that he was playing.
“One of your friends?” In your peripheral vision you saw him lifting his eyebrows with the faintest of scowls. “Or one of those shady guys sittin’ at the bar, staring at pretty girls like you? ’Cause they’re no good for you, darlin’.”
“Oh, really?” you scoffed and lifted your chin, feeling touched that Joel was acting so protective – (and maybe even… jealous?) – about what you said. “You were the one that didn’t want to dance. What do you know about what’s good for me, anyway?”
“Those guys won’t treat you right. They just want a girl to spend the night with, and you deserve better than that.”
He was right, of course, but it didn’t mean you were going to openly give him his due. You made an acknowledging noise, not really sure what to say, but Joel didn’t seem to mind. He continued in a quiet, raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. “You deserve someone who’d take real good care of you, darlin’. Not some drunk out of their ass idiot.”
“Are you drunk, Mr Miller?” you asked, not looking at him in fear he’ll see how red his words made you, though you could still see his smirk in the corner of your eye.
“No.”
“You act like you are.”
“C’mon, sugar, look at me.” He took your chin between his fingers and your body went rigid. His warm gaze met yours for just a second, and he tilted his head forward a little. “Do I look drunk?”
“A little.” You turned your head away, but he tsked and guided your chin back.
“In the eyes, darlin’.” You gulped at his words, and his dark, brown irises twinkled in the fairy lights dangling from the roof and walls. “And call me Joel, please.”
His chest was almost touching yours, and you felt the wooden railing digging into your lower back, but at that moment you didn’t mind at all. Joel was so close, and your breath hitched in your throat when you got enveloped in his earthy smell, with a tinge of bonfire and… was that cologne? For some reason the discovery that he used cologne for tonight made your heart flutter.
But as much as you loved every second of being so close to him, you remembered that you weren’t alone on the terrace. There was a pair of people talking – well, now kissing, judging by the sound of it – and your eyes darted to the side to see if they were looking at you both. “Come on, there are people here. It’s not…”
The man clicked his tongue in disapproval and moved slightly closer, now practically pinning you against the railing with his body, and you squealed unwillingly when he, once again, made you look at him.
“Eyes on me.”
And God, if it wasn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen or heard. It was unfair how much power his gaze and tone wielded over you.
“Okay,” you managed to whimper, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards, creating that adorable dimple in his cheek.
“And my name, sugar.”
You didn't know why you were complying so easily, but something about the softness and tenderness in his voice made you feel safe. He wouldn’t hurt you, of that you were absolutely sure.
“Okay, Joel.”
His thumb brushed the edge of your bottom lip with the softest of touches, making your legs almost turn to jelly. It made you want to say his name again, though in a much more needy tone.
“That’s a good girl,” Joel murmured with a smirk, never looking away.
Lord, have mercy.
You were so grateful for the wooden rails behind your back, because you were sure you’d collapse any second now if he kept looking at you like that.
“I… Joel…”
“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he murmured without taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Your brain was mush at this point, but even if you could formulate any words, you doubt you’d ask him to step away. So you settled on shaking your head slightly, to which Joel nodded. “Lemme know immediately if it changes, darlin’.”
How could you be so blind? All you could think about was that Angie was right – there was no way Joel Miller wasn’t flirting with you. Maybe he even liked you. Maybe – just maybe – he wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him.
“Didn’t you wanna… get back to the party?”
You didn’t make any move to get away yourself, however, not wanting him to drop the arm with which he was holding your chin. The material of his shirt was bulging over the lines of his biceps, and it felt really nice to stand so close to him.
“I’m in no rush.” Joel’s voice dipped, and your insides tightened. “You?”
“No, but–”
“Here you are, you ol’ fucker!”
Joel took a step back, and you both turned to see his younger brother walking clumsily through the door with a big, drunken grin on his face. You cleared your throat, still breathless and blushed, but both Millers didn’t pay you any mind anymore.
“Tommy.” Joel’s face was like made out of stone, but his eyes were betraying how irritated he was with the interruption.
“You thought you’d manage to get away, ya old dog?” Tommy hooked an arm around his older brother’s shoulders and finally looked at you to send you a wink. “Sorry, sweetheart, gotta borrow ‘im for a second. He has a date to get to.”
It took you a couple of seconds to register that yes, you heard him right. A heavy veil of hurt and disbelief slowly fell down on you, and your eyes started to prickle as you looked from Tommy to Joel.
“A date?”
He had a date. Why then did he talk and act this way with you, making you feel like you ever had a chance with him?
“C’mon, don’t keep a lady waiting,” Tommy said to Joel instead of answering you, and tugged the other man back inside, but Joel didn’t move. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even get lucky tonight!”
That you couldn’t listen to.
Trying to hide how painful his words were to you, you ducked your head and tried to slip past the brothers, desperate to get out of here. A hand – which felt so achingly familiar now – shot out and grabbed your elbow before you could escape. You lifted your tearful eyes only to meet Joel’s sorrowful ones.
“Darlin’, wait. It’s not…”
“No, it’s okay,” you interrupted him, tearing your gaze away. “I wanted to go to the bathroom, anyway.”
Joel looked like he wanted to say something else, but you couldn’t bear being in his and Tommy’s presence any longer. You slipped out of his grasp, quickly coming back inside and navigating your way to the bathrooms.
He had a date for tonight. And still he flirted with you and touched you so lovingly, and… and almost…
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! To think you ever had a chance.
You dashed into the bathroom and quickly opened the first free stall you saw, then shut it behind you. There you just slumped against the wall and wrapped your arms around yourself, giving in to the flow of your tears, but trying not to make a sound.
You felt so foolish for letting yourself fall under Joel Miller’s spell, for ignoring that he obviously couldn’t be interested in someone like you.
He probably saw you as a dumb child. No wonder he’d prefer someone else, probably a woman closer to his own age.
But why did he have to be so cruel, to lead you on and hint that…
No, you realized. It was your own damn fault for letting your heart justify his every action towards you.
Almost ten minutes must’ve passed before you got a grip on yourself and decided to go find Angie. You needed to talk to someone, preferably distract yourself from the unpleasant situation you had to experience, and maybe try to salvage the evening somehow. With that in mind you took a couple of breaths, wiped your eyes and then hesitantly exited the bathroom.
You only managed to take a couple of steps, however, before your eyes were drawn to a familiar and beautiful side profile. You wished you didn’t know his face so well, because then you wouldn’t see Joel whispering something to a stunning woman you didn’t know at the far end of the room. She was hanging off his arm, bright eyes and a million-dollars smile directed solely at him. Joel appeared to be looking around, but a few seconds later he put his hand on the small of the woman’s back – just as he did earlier with you – and started walking. Neither of them looked your way before exiting through the front door and leaving the party.
As well as a gaping hole in your heart.
*****
A few minutes later you managed to find Angie. You were a mess at this point, barely able to stop yourself from sobbing. It was truly pathetic.
“I don’t know her name. But I saw them leaving, and she was hanging off his arm and–” you choked on your words and gave a humorless laugh. “God, I’m such an idiot.”
“I’m so sorry, hon.” Angie looked at you sadly. “We can ditch the party if you want. Go to my place and watch some movies,” she suggested gently, but you were already shaking your head.
“No, no. I’m fine, really, I… I think I'll just go home. But you should stay with your girlfriend.” Angie looked like she was about to protest, but you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m okay. I’m just gonna go straight back home and lock myself inside with a bowl of ice-cream. Or go to sleep.”
“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
“I… I think I need to.” You gave her a weak, sad smile, and stood up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? You have fun, I don’t want to ruin your night, too.”
“You’re not ruining anythi–”
“I mean… this. All of this stuff with,” you swallowed heavily, “him.”
Angie still seemed unconvinced, but finally nodded after a while. “Alright. But come and get me if you feel worse.”
“I promise. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Take care of yourself, okay?”
You nodded, then went towards the side exit and out into the snowy night without looking back. You didn’t want to stay here and watch as all those happy couples share sweet kisses at midnight, thus reminding you of your heartbreak.
This time you had your coat on, but it was far too thin for this kind of weather. You wrapped it tighter around yourself and hid your hands in the pockets, starting to make your way home. It was a bit far from the main square, but you needed to get away from the music and laughter of the partygoers as quickly as possible.
Alas, you only managed to walk one street away when out of nowhere, a big hand grabbed your elbow, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait.”
You turned around and took a step backwards at the same time, freeing your arm with a strong tug. The words full of anger were ready to spill out of your mouth, but that was until you saw who stood in front of you with a painful expression.
The last person you expected to see here.
“Joel?” You whispered surprisedly and looked around, but there was no one else nearby. Not that strange woman you saw him with, at least. “What are you doing here?”
“I was lookin’ for you,” he rasped between gasps, like he ran all the way here. “You weren’t at the party.”
“Why were you… What are you doing here?” you repeated more coldly, the sight of him only making your fresh heartache so much more noticeable. “I thought you left.”
“M’so sorry.” Joel’s beautiful dark eyes were full of sadness and weariness. “I would have never left you if I could help it, darlin’.”
He took half a step forward and lifted his hand slightly to graze yours with his icy-cold fingertips. You weren’t wearing any gloves either, so his touch sent a jolt up your arm. You looked down at it, but gently moved your hand away. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you have a… date?”
“No.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. You avoided his eyes and instead watched as snowflakes landed and melted in his hair. “No, it was Tommy… You saw how drunk he was, and he wanted to set me up, insisted on talking to that girl, but I…”
“You should get back to her, then,” you said dryly, really not having strength to even hide how hurtful his mere presence was. You went past him, hiding your neck in your coat. “I don’t want to keep you from–”
“Darlin’, wait.” Joel grabbed your arm again, though still gently and without any force. “Listen, she was nice, but I told her that I can’t get involved in anythin’, because I…” He faltered slightly when you looked him in the eyes, for the first time since your talk on the terrace. “There is… it’s– fuck.” He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “There is someone else,” he finally spoke, his voice almost trembling, and looked at you again, “that I’m madly in love with. And it’s you.”
Through the open door to the party someone shouted what sounded like the time, but it was all happening in the background of your mind. All you could focus on was Joel, standing so close to you and looking almost scared as he waited for your reaction.
Cold crept up your limbs and up to your cheeks while you tried to digest what the hell you just heard, but as if held by the invisible force of his gaze, you couldn’t move an inch.
“...what?”
“I… really, really like you,” Joel whispered, his dark and sad eyes drilling into your unbelieving ones. “I went to this party just to see you, darlin’. And I’d never chose to spend the evenin’ with anyone else but you. I’m so sorry I left you like that and…”
He then gulped and very slowly lifted his hand to your face, not fully cupping your cheek but hovering just above it. He searched your eyes, but when you didn’t back away, he touched your skin carefully, and an involuntary sigh escaped you as your eyes fluttered closed.
You never thought one could be touched with such care and fondness. No one has ever treated you like that before, like you were made of the most precious glass.
“You can tell me to fuck off,” Joel whispered, and you opened your eyes to find his face a little closer than before. “I just thought that maybe… if you would maybe, too…”
He was getting flustered again, and it was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. It must’ve been close to midnight now, because you noticed that the music stopped and the racket inside the building was at its peak, though it was hard to distinguish the words people were shouting when your heartbeat was almost deafening in your ears.
“But I saw you leaving with that woman.” You had to make sure you were on the same page with him before you did something idiotic. Again. “You aren’t…?”
“No,” Joel breathed a quiet chuckle and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, while his eyes danced across your face. “It’s only ever been you, darlin’.”
Then he must’ve heard something – his head turned to the side to look at where the party was still going on, before his eyes returned to you, and you felt his thumb swiping your cheek in an oh, so tender manner.
“May I?” he asked in a whisper, so close that his breath skimmed your parted lips. You hoped he was asking about what you thought, but this time wasn’t brave enough to ask and clarify.
So you just nodded.
And Joel leaned in, without any hurry, and kissed you.
It was fitting, you supposed, that only a couple of seconds later the clock chimed midnight, and shrieks of laughter and cheers filled the air while the people still present at the party celebrated loudly. You couldn’t care less, however, because in that moment, your entire world was Joel. His – still cold – hand caressed your scorching cheek, and the other found its place on your hip. The smell of him, the warmth with which his body radiated, and the feeling of his lips, rougher in touch than you’ve imagined, but still soft in movement – all of it together was almost overwhelming.
You parted after a while with blissful sighs, though didn’t move away – Joel still held you close, his forehead pressed to yours, and eyes shut tightly, as if he was in pain. He took a trembling breath when you touched his jaw with your icy fingers.
“Tell me to stop,” he pleaded in a murmur, taking you aback. “Sugar, if you don’t… Please, tell me to stop.”
You shook your head and held onto him tighter before he even finished.
“Please, don’t stop.”
Your lips clashed again, tongues meeting and dancing together, and it was the closest you’ve ever felt to any type of heaven in this cruel, forsaken world. Joel pulled you flush against him and kissed you again, more forcefully this time, tangling his fingers in your hair. You let out an involuntary moan, but his mouth swallowed the sound immediately, not giving you a split second of respite.
“I wanted to do it a year ago,” Joel muttered between the kisses, before he took your face in his hands to look you in the eyes properly. He smiled, that same adorable and boyish smile, when he saw how breathless and flushed you were. “Wanted to kiss you so much, sugar, but,” he obviously fought back a laugh at this point, his eyes crinkling, “you got wasted and puked your guts out just before midnight.”
“Oh my god.” You didn’t know he saw it, particularly the moment when all the alcohol you consumed a year ago refused to stay in your stomach. “I wasn’t– I don’t usually… I got drunk ‘cause I saw Sheryll kissing you on the cheek,” you admitted with embarrassment, feeling your skin growing even hotter. “I thought you and her were together at that point…”
“But why did you get drunk because of it, sweet girl?” Joel mused, brushing his nose against yours and obviously teasing you. You snorted and shook your head.
“You know why.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
You playfully pushed him away lightly, but he tightened his grip around you, not letting you step away.
“You’re an asshole sometimes,” you whispered, making Joel chuckle. “Fine. I really wanted to kiss you, too. Happy?”
He smiled and kissed you again, softly and passionately this time, cradling your cheek in his palm.
“Very,” he whispered against your lips and dragged his nose up to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Very much, baby.”
Your heart fluttered with joy at his affectionate tone. Joel pulled away, his hands leaving your body to cover your own, situated on his jaw and arm.
“Now, what do you say we head back inside?” he asked with a disarming smile, brushing your knuckles with his thumbs. “And maybe you’ll let me ask you for a dance?”
You didn’t give an answer, but the joyous kiss you pressed to his lips – which, with your enthusiasm, almost made both of you topple over into the snow – spoke for itself.
#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#the last of us fanfiction#joel tlou#joel miller fluff
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Short Days, Long Nights: 6
Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit
Series Masterlist
—
You’re surrounded in warmth.
The storm outside is gone, the blue wash of dawn filtering through the nearly transparent curtains and your eyes flutter open, focusing on nothing. A tickle of breath skims across the nape of your neck, the weighted drape of an arm curled over your side and you are limp and boneless.
Sated, relaxed.
Tucked away safely in the solidly soft embrace of his body, you fall back asleep.
–
When you wake again hours later, it’s much brighter outside and the warmth is gone.
Reaching your hand back, you find nothing but wrinkled sheets and an empty space, cool to the touch. You skim your hand over it anyway, as if the imprint of his body would still be found if you search long enough, but it isn’t and needing a confirmation of the night before, you reach down underneath the blankets and let your fingers run a path up the inside of your thigh. Smooth, velvety skin and then – the barest trace of tightness across the surface; dried and flaky, smeared there and left.
At least the two of you had the wherewithal to do that, even in your sleep soaked need.
The clean, masculine scent pressed into his pillow brings to life the ache between your thighs and shifting, you note how different it feels between them. Still slick, worked open and used. A pleasant reminder lingering there, your eyes close as you let yourself lie suspended awhile longer in the memory.
His panting breath filling your mouth, the stretch of every push inside. A phantom fullness felt in your core, his beard brushing against your lips. The husky rasp of his voice, the tightness of his grip. The gleam of his eyes in the dark.
Thinking about how he pulled himself back the last time he kissed you, you stay tucked away in the safety of his bed until it seems too late to stay asleep. Not wanting to leave it for fear of finding a different man than the one who held you last night, you eventually force yourself up and fishing your underwear and shorts out from the bedding, go to find him.
Out on the deck, the outline of his body is highlighted in the sun with his green and red flannel taut around his shoulders, his broad back facing you and when you walk out to join him, he turns at your hesitant, creeping steps.
A shyness you’ve never felt with him has you averting your eyes, and coming closer, you keep your arms tucked tight around your torso.
“Good morning.” His greeting is a quiet one, fitting for the peacefulness of a morning after a storm.
Lifting the corner of your mouth, your gaze flits over to him. “Hi.”
There is mutual silence; the restlessness of his body giving him away: the drum of his fingers on the wooden railing, the white knuckled grip he shifts into as he fiddles with it and thinks. He peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, and you look over at the garden.
The leaves of the plants are sodden and limp, dripping with moisture but still very much alive.
“How are you feelin’?” he asks, keeping his eyes downcast on his hands.
“Sore,” you admit, looking over at him. Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth for a moment, a frown forms deeply between his brows, his jaw shifting under his beard. “But I mean, it’s okay. It’s not bad or anything.”
He lets out a huff of laughter, laced with self disgust.
“I was too –” he starts and stops himself, his finger digging into a dry crevice in the wood as he searches for the right words. “It’s been a long time since –”
He stops again, and taking a breath, he steels himself and pulls himself upright, facing you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rough. I shouldn’t have even–”
Your hand rests on his automatically, your chest tightening at your fear playing out in real time. The action stops him as he looks at your hand on his and then at you, expressive earnestness spilling from his endless, brown depths. You know what he is trying to say, even if he can’t seem to get the words out.
“It’s okay,” you reassure him. Your thumb sweeps a path across the back of his hand, and his eyes drop down to watch the movement. “I wanted you to.”
He shakes his head, disappointment flashing across his face. “I know you did, but I shouldn’t have done it.”
“You didn’t want to?” The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and you hold your breath, waiting for an answer he gives you right away.
His face is stern when his head pulls up to meet your eyes. “You know I did.”
The lowness in his reply and the blunt confirmation of what he’s wanted swirls inside you, heady and rich. The open acknowledgement of it frees your hesitancy, even just a little, and something inside you preens at the speed of his reply.
“Then it’s okay,” you say quietly.
His eyes search yours for a moment, and you let him look.
Please, you think. Please don’t say it was a mistake. Please agree to more. Please. Please.
Weighted air fills the space between you, his eyes leaving your face to scan the yard as he buys himself time. You let him think, your fingertip tracing the line of a vein on the back of his hand, following the path of it to his wrist and his eyes drop down to watch your careful exploration. Afraid to push him too fast, you don’t want to break this tentative truce; this liminal space where he’s neither going back on his actions nor forward. Your touch stays on him as a silent offer, just like the one you gave him last night.
Nothing and then, he lifts his thumb to brush against yours, the corner of his mouth lifting only just.
He nods and you let a slow breath out, his hand lifting off the railing to take yours. You let him take it, threading your fingers together.
“You want some breakfast?” he asks, leading you into the cabin and you smile, following.
“Sure.”
–
His hands deftly pulling the soaking clothes from the line, he wonders how it’s possible to want you even more now that he’s had a taste.
Shouldn’t the pull lessen? Shouldn’t his thirst be quenched? Shouldn’t he be able to stop thinking about how good you feel now that it’s not a mystery anymore?
He grimaces at the memory of what you said. Sore. He was way too rough last night. Too eager, too hungry, too unable to stop himself from taking what you were offering. Stripped bare having just come out of that dream, he could say he didn’t know what he was doing, but he knows that’s not the truth - he knew.
The comfort of your body was too much to resist, his hands searching for your soft warmth and the taste of your mouth, and when you didn’t even try to stop him, he told himself it was okay to finally take.
When he woke before you this morning, he watched the slow rise and fall of your breathing under his arm, and studied the swirls of hair just behind your ear. Your back was bare against his chest, a sensation long lost to the days of before and that’s what finally pulled him from you: a tightness along his sternum; the velvet skin of your spine fitting just right over it.
Glancing over at you, he watches as you kneel over the barrier of the garden, checking on your plants. Yours, because even though they technically belong to both of you, you were the one who nurtured them to life. Through careful attention and delicate touches, through a gentle coaxing out of the confines of their small, stunted beginnings to give them space to stretch their roots and grow as they soak up the sun.
The sun, a joy he had forgotten about.
You use your knuckle to swipe a stray lock of hair out of your eyes, and his gaze trails down the length of your body: the delicate line of your neck, the swell of your breasts under your shirt, the plump curve of your bottom sitting on your ankles. If he tries hard enough, he can feel your smooth skin under his palms and pulling himself away from the memory of his dark bedroom, he goes back to what he was doing.
One by one, he takes each piece of clothing off the line and wrings it out, his forearms straining as he works the fabric into a tight spiral. Water pours from each one onto the grass below, splashing onto his boots and when you come over to join him, his doubts from earlier fade as he pushes down the sudden urge to drop the cloth in his hands and reach for you.
“Oops,” you laugh, looking at the heavy clothes. “I guess I forgot to bring these in yesterday.”
“Good thing they didn’t tear off the line,” he says. “Find my shirt up in a tree or somethin’, with that wind last night.”
He wants to tease you for how shameless you are when you watch him wring out another shirt, but wasn’t he just doing the same himself? A silent acknowledgement runs through his mind: this is how it could be, if he lets it.
“God, wasn’t it bad?” you say, bending down to pick up a large stick. “These things are everywhere.”
“Yea, I was gonna gather them up in a bit, stick 'em somewhere for later maybe.”
His old backyard in Texas flashes quickly through his mind; the square patch of grass, the domestic act of taking pride in his property as he cleaned up the morning after a storm. He hasn’t stayed anywhere long enough to care about doing something like that since then, and he’s surprised he even remembers.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad not to be sleeping outside,” you say and he looks sideways at you with a smirk, glad when you match it. “I mean, for a couple of reasons.”
He hums, his grin stretching and you bite your lip and tap the back of his thigh with the stick.
“Hey now,” he laughs. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Sure you didn’t.” You hit him lightly again, poking him with the edge of it and he gives you a look.
“You better watch it, honey. Don’t dish out what you can’t take.”
“You think I can’t take you?” you tease back, swatting him this time on the small of his back and he stops what he’s doing, turning towards you. Anticipation swirls in his gut when you grin, somehow light for how present it is when you take a small step back for every one of his forwards.
“Oh I know you can,” he says lowly, the words heavy with implication.
Caught unawares by his statement, he uses your pause to his advantage and reaches for the stick, swiping it from your hand to toss it carelessly behind him into the grass.
Your eyes brighten with excitement, your foot taking another step back and when you turn to run from him, he’s ready for it. One lunge forward and he’s snagged you around the waist with his arm, tugging you back against his body and he smiles at the laugh you let out that pierces the air. The sound breaks out into the sky, brighter than the sun above and then he’s tackling your squirming body to the damp ground, pinning you down.
“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” he says, breathless as you try to fight him off and his hands wrap around your flailing wrists, pressing them into the grass above your head.
You say nothing, stilling underneath him with a smile. These playful touches so far have been like arcs of tension filled energy, bursting and catching against each other as he tries to find the edges of this new boundary. He’s still within it, but the longer he looks at you, your face shifts into something else. Your chest heaves underneath him, and he twitches in his pants, the tight drum of fabric pressing against your stomach.
“I do want it,” you urge beneath him.
He knows you do: can see it in your hooded eyes, in the way they keep dropping to his belt buckle. They roam greedily over him, your mouth parted as you take him in and though he wants nothing more than to break these newfound, uncharted boundaries and take care of you like he always does, he can’t.
Slow. He needs to go slow. It’s only been hours, and the sound of your voice saying “sore” echoes in his mind. Reaching into the depths of his memory, he recalls long ago dates with lingering touches, knees pressed together beneath bar tops, teasing words murmured into ears full of promises that would be fulfilled later.
Later, when the need became too unbearable to hold back.
Later, when his fingers and mouth would find an eager, wet warmth.
Later, knowing that when he eventually got there, they would be ready to take what he needed to give.
Later.
There hasn’t been a later for a long time. Later is a thing of the past, now when every day is lived one day at a time and just like you’re teaching him the power of later with this garden, he needs to relearn it for himself. Reach deep inside for those long neglected reflexes, brush them off and polish them through practice - starting right now.
He bends forward, until his mouth is resting just above yours and he can feel the absence of your breath, as if you’re holding it.
“That so?” he hums, watching your eyes flutter shut.
Light plays across your face, sliding over the soft, familiar features and he drinks you in, finally allowed to look as much as he wants. He feels the tension held in your limbs as you try to stay still underneath him, his hands tightening subtly around your wrists while he watches your pulse thrum beneath the skin of your throat. His mouth waters in memory of the salt taste of that exact spot.
Your lips part slightly, and he knows if he shifts forward just a bit more, he would be able to touch them with his own…but he doesn’t.
Instead, he brushes them along the curve of your cheek, leaning forward to whisper directly into your ear.
“Later, honey,” he murmurs, savoring a sweet little inhale from you. “We’ve got chores to do.”
–
It’s criminal, how good he looks doing yard work.
Almost as good as he looks holding his rifle or his bow, but not as good as he looks when he makes a kill just for you.
You had thought there was something wrong with you the first time he did it – the way your breath quickened with arousal, your belly pulling tight with need. You had blamed it on adrenaline in the moment, but hours later when your body was still thrumming with it every time you called the image back, you knew it wasn’t just that.
You had quickly reasoned that it was due to many things: the implication of his protection, a confirmation of the lengths he was willing to go for you. A fierce protector in this terrifying, brutal world, with his competency never more present than when taking out a threat, you knew he didn’t do it out of love for you, but your body attributed his actions to something akin to it.
You want him the same way now, watching him gather sticks in the yard.
He’s stripped his flannel, draping it over the railing of the deck. His arms are tanned and thick, his body so blatantly masculine in its broad muscles and width, and he’s holding a bundle of broken, wet pieces of wood as he bends to pick up each one. He dumps them in the corner of the lot, the pile growing bigger with each round and then he’s adding larger branches, ones that got knocked from the trees during the storm.
A slick ache beats between your legs, remembering the weight and heat of him as he straddled your body, the solid thickness of him on top of you in the grass earlier and you keep watching.
He wipes his hands on the back of his jeans, his ever present knife hanging on his belt just to the side of his ass and when he turns, you quickly go back to what you were doing.
Enough. He said later.
–
Dinner is a quiet thing, the protector you were ruminating about earlier gone and replaced by a version of himself that seems looser, without the tight winding tension that’s usually present in his form. There is still some there though, and though he gave a promise of more to come later, there has been a piece of you all day that has waited for him to change his mind. To pull back, to give into the doubts he clearly had before.
You’ve been watching for signs: for him to fall silent, to get that far away look he has on his face sometimes when he ticks his jaw and thinks, to pull away when you come near him - but he hasn’t.
At least, not for today.
When you come in from outside just before bed and he’s settled in his own room without you, your self doubt creeps back – just as slowly as you creep across the hallway, to his room.
“Hey, can I come in?”
He’s sitting up in bed, warm light spilling from his lantern and he quickly sets his book face down on his lap, like he was waiting for you.
“Sure, yea. Of course.”
He shifts on the bed to make room, shadows pooling and sliding over his bare chest as he reaches over to turn the light off and you stretch out next to him, rolling onto your side to face him.
“You didn’t need to turn the light off. You can keep reading, if you want.”
“I don’t want,” he says lowly, scooting closer to you. His hand settles on your hip, tugging you closer.
“Oh yea?” you tease, smiling in the dark. “What do you want?”
His hold slides up the side of your body, a rumble of satisfaction rolling through his chest and then he’s even closer, his hand cupping your jaw to pull you close.
“This,” he breathes, kissing you.
His mouth finds a rhythm with yours immediately, and for all that was frantic the night before, it’s matched by tenderness tonight. Still just as hungry and demanding, his mouth insists you open for him; the sheets rustling as you slide and shift against them.
Delving his tongue deep, he explores the way yours brushes and slides against his. His mouth is just as competent as his hands are, just as sure in its intent.
When you sigh into his kiss, he breathes it in.
When you ask for more, he relents.
He helps you out of your pajamas and then peels his own bottoms off, tossing both sets onto the floor below and then he’s reaching for you again, his slow, careful movements giving way to hunger as he guides you onto your back. You make room for him between your thighs, letting the weight of him settle there.
“I wanted to do so much last night.” His voice is low and full of want, sending shivers across your skin in the dark. “Wanted to taste you, or fuck you with my fingers. Should've got you ready.”
“Do it,” you moan, your thighs involuntarily dropping open wider and he grinds himself between them, his hips a sure, steady roll.
“Yea, honey?” he asks, his breath humid as it blows across your parted lips. “You want my mouth?”
“Please. Please.”
It’s something you’ve been dreaming about for months, never confident that it would ever come true and your eagerness is reflected in the slight whine in your answer, in the way you arch into his hands when he lowers to pull the peak of your breast into his mouth. He sucks on it for a moment, giving another long, lingering kiss to the underside. Another one scrapes across your belly, one pressed into the hollow of your hip, and he works his way down, his shoulders forcing your thighs open wider.
His mouth finds you in the dark, the edges of his shadowed form between your knees making you wetter under his touch and when his tongue dips into you, your fingers curl into a fist, grasping his sheets.
You suck in air, your back automatically arching at the sensation of his wet, scorching mouth and he gives you a longer lick, a more intent one that slides up to your clit. He circles it, dragging the tip of his tongue over the peak several times and then he swirls it around to taste it, letting out a deep groan. He presses his face closer, his whiskered cheeks brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, and his mouth opens wider as he gives you an open mouthed, messy kiss. His tongue slips inside you with a thick push, your hips rolling against it.
When he finds the pearl of your clit with a light suck, you start to beg. “Joel, please. Please.”
The sound encourages him, his large hands wrapping around the top of your thighs to spread you wider for his mouth and your fingers curl into his hair, the silken locks slipping in your hold. Rolling your hips up, he flattens one hand wide across your belly to keep you in place and then he’s sucking on your clit again, just enough to make your whole body focus on that singular, bright sensation. A flash of heat ripples through you, your core clenching around nothing and then his tongue is there; his groan of relief a deep rumble into the heart of you.
You let yourself get lost in it – pleasure soaking you underneath his mouth and spreading with heat through your limbs. He’s good at it, just as competent and sure as he is with everything else and your thighs tense the longer he laves, your moans growing higher in their pitch.
The slick heat of his mouth pulls and draws and takes, ignoring the way you pull back in order to push his face deeper with a low, long groan and then you’re pushing lightly on the firm round of his shoulder, your body pitching forward into ascent. Starlight bursts across the inside of your eyelids when you breathlessly tell him that you’re coming, and he keeps going, his tongue working faster.
His finesse slips, his careful, practiced touches and licks given with intent slipping into something more base, something that pours from the inside out, just like the deep, satisfied groan he lets out when he tastes your release. He eats you like he can’t stop, his hips shifting to grind into the mattress and then it’s too much all at once, your hand reaching down to push him away.
“Stop,” you plead, breathless and desperate and the need that he pulled out of you with his mouth has you shifting and sitting up, guiding him onto his back. His chin glistens in the dark, his whiskers dark and damp and his mouth tastes like you when you lean down to kiss him. He sees your need and matches it, cinching up to kiss you harder and his own grasp on your hips turns demanding and rough as he helps you settle into place on his lap and then just like last night, he’s lining himself up and pushing himself inside, only this time you’re so unbearably wet that you take him effortlessly.
“Oh fuck, honey. Fuck.”
His head drops back onto his pillow, his lips parted as he lays back and his hold slides up your arms to skate down over the delicate line of your collarbones and then he’s palming the weight of your breasts in his hands. They grasp and touch, his thumbs dragging across the peaks and you think about how he’s handled so much with these hands.
These brutal, deadly, efficient hands. These capable hands, now skillful and careful and deliberate in their touch with a lightness you didn’t know they were capable of. He uses them just as deftly on your body, sliding them down to curl around the meat of your hips to encourage you to ride him faster and his thumb seeks out your clit, nestled just above where you’re stretched open for him.
‘Yes,” he groans, his drawl slipping deeper. His words are soaked in rough pleasure, husky and low. “Come on, pretty girl. Come on.”
His breath comes fast and heavy, his plush lips open and inviting as you lean forward to drape yourself over his chest, seeking out his embrace with a kiss. He wraps his arms around you, one hand splaying across your tailbone to keep you in place and the other around the nape of your neck, and then he’s fucking up into you, his feet planted on the mattress for purchase.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it,” you breathe into his ear, repeating his own words to him from earlier and his response a wordless growl as he clenches his jaw and his grip tightens ever harder, his hips moving faster.
This Joel you know. This Joel you’ve seen: the one who delivers brutal blows with singular focus, taking out any and all threats with a fierceness you’ve craved. The same look of intensity is on his face now only softened with lust — but it’s the same black pitch to his eyes, the same intent.
“Take what you want,” you tell him, your lips catching on his just for a moment. “Take it.”
He does — immediately rolling over and taking you with him with a grunt and then he lets himself go, his groans crawling out of his throat with a delicious strain. His filling strokes speed up, his hips fitting tightly into the cradle of your thighs, and you know you’re going to be sore again tomorrow, but you don’t care – you don’t care, every thought being fucked right out of your head.
“You feel so good, honey. So good. You’re gonna make me come.”
You tighten around him in wordless encouragement, the scent of his skin and the heaviness of his body and his warm, gusting breath and low groans enveloping you, forcing you higher beneath him. It’s all consuming like it was last night, and his hand comes up to wrap around the back of your knee, tugging it higher.
“Joel,” you cry out, the depth he’s reaching pushing you over the edge and then he’s pumping into you one, two, three times more before pulling out with an abrupt jerk of his hips, spilling in hot spurts across the sheets.
There is a beat of silence, each of you breathing heavily and his skin sticks to you, tacky in the places where it meets. He shifts, his muscles relaxing.
“Goddamn,” he breathes, a low chuckle rolling through his chest into yours and you smile, reaching up to push a lock of hair away from his brow.
“What?”
He drapes himself on top of you, letting his weight push you into the mattress and he drops his head to fit into the crook of your neck, his mouth seeking out the curve of your jaw. Your hands linger on his biceps, thick and strong under your palms and you drag your nails over the back of them, content under the heat of his body.
“We gotta sleep in a wet spot,” he mumbles into your neck, and you laugh underneath him, feeling him grin against your skin.
“Hang on.” He pushes up with a groan, the same he makes when he’s been kneeling for too long, and getting off you, leaves.
The room loses its heat without him, your bare skin exposed to the air, and you wait until he gets back with a towel, scooting over so he can lay it down. He crawls back into bed, the two of you settling into a comfortable position.
With you next to him, his eyes are already sliding shut, a low, contented hum leaving his throat as you drag the tips of your fingers along his skin in a soothing pattern, lulling him to sleep.
His chest rises slow and steady beneath your touch, and the edge of your lips curl up at his grumbling about the wet spot. This, from a man who has spent countless nights in some of the most uncomfortable sleeping spots imaginable.
Comfort something that hasn’t been a guarantee for years, he’s been quick to acclimate to it. Not all things have come as easy: he still scans the yard endlessly, still checks the traps every day, still makes note of the rations and only just allowed himself the comfort of another human being, but a soft, warm, dry bed – that was something he took to instantly.
Your nail traces a line up the sternum of his chest, your palm sliding over the firm round of his shoulder and tucking your face into the crook of his neck and fitting your leg between his, you start to fall asleep — but not before you feel the weight of his cheek, his head tilting to rest it against your hair.
—
a/n: I lost track of the amount of times I asked @mourningbirds1 for help on this one — I love you my dear; only you know how much. Thank you ❤️
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller/reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller/you#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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my summer of you ♡ part two
✄ - - - - part 1 , part 2 - - - - inspo track (till there was you)
synopsis: being sent to your grandparents for the summer was supposed to be a punishment, but when you came face-to-face with your neighbor, you knew it’d be quite the opposite.
| 𓆣 | pairing & wc: loser!ellie williams x neighbor!reader. wc: 4.5k
| ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, lots of fluff, marajuana use, profane language, mentions of tense family relations and childhood trauma (brief), joel cameo, ellie is so loser nerd it's actually adorable, ⭑ SMUT ⭑ … soft dom!reader, sub!ellie, mommy kink, fingering (e receiving), oral (e receiving), pet names (baby, special girl, etc.). MINORS DNI !!
a/n: hi lovelies, last part!!! ellie is just a sweet little angel baby who deserves to be taken care of!! sorry not sorry. i know dom!ellie is a fan favorite (trust me i love her too) but i feel obligated to write loser!ellie as an actual inexperienced, obsessed, space loving loser. kinda unplanned, but the end just turned into me living out my mommy fantasies tbh. ha i need her so bad, anyways... thanks 4 the love ��~ lola
A twinge of anxiety hit the pits of your stomach as you stood, fist at the ready, face-to-face with your neighbors white front door. A deep exhale finally sent your hand into motion producing a loud knock on the wood— one you repeated 4 times before finally being answered.
The door handle rattled a bit before completely twisting to the right and revealing an older gentleman. His hair was brown, short and messy. The man's face was shrouded in a thick beard full of grays and his brows seemed permanently furrowed. You would’ve been a little fearful if it wasn’t for his sweet southern greeting that immediately softened you.
“Well, hello there little lady. What can I do for you?”
“Uh, hi… I live next door. You’re Ellie’s dad right?” you questioned.
“Mmm… kinda, I’m Joel. But um, if you’re looking for Ellie she’s still at work.” he replied, quickly moving past your question. It felt odd but you could see that asking him to elaborate wouldn’t be in your best interest- or his for that matter.
“Oh okay… do you know when she gets off?”
“Six I think. I’m sure she’d love to see you though. Girl hasn’t stopped smiling since you moved in next door.” His answer made your cheeks hurt from the widest grin you’d ever made.
“I guess that makes two of us.” You looked at the ground feeling somewhat bashful as you admitted how smitten you were with his “kinda” daughter. “Well uh, thanks Joel, it was really nice to meet you.”
“No problem kiddo, you too.” The man waved you off down the concrete steps and you waved back before he shut the door behind him.
Without a 2nd thought you trekked 4 blocks over to the bookstore where Ellie works, practically skipping the whole way. That sweet little bell rang once more as you pranced inside. A comforting smell of old paper immediately wafted through your senses.
Running your fingers along the yellowed edges of tattered books, you waited for Ellie to detect your presence. The girl seemed to be completely consumed by the small paperback resting against the edge of the counter she was positioned behind. The intentional clearing of your throat is what finally broke her focus with a slight startle.
“Hi Els.”
“Hey, what are you doing here?” she attempted to question nonchalantly, but the excitement behind her voice was clear. The frantic taming of her auburn locks and crimson colored cheeks was also a dead giveaway, and just as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, it quickly fell back to its rightful place- in front of her lovely face.
“Wanted to see if you’d wanna go to the boardwalk after your shift?”
“With you?” Ellie could hardly believe it.
“Of course with me… But, I mean that’s only if you wanna go.”
“Yesyesyesyesyes.” she slurred out frantically at a volume that was definitely not suited for a bookstore.
“Knew I could count on my special girl. You’ll be done at six right?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?” You almost lied to Ellie, as the topic seemed like the kinda thing that was supposed to go unsaid. But you didn’t.
“Uh, Joel told me…”
“Oh? You talked to Joel?” Ellie seemed to withdraw at his mention, fidgeting with the pages of her book.
“Yeah… just for a second. I went over to see you and he answered the door.”
“Gotcha…” She lingered on her words like there was more to say but ultimately refrained from speaking out. You couldn’t help but pry just a little, it was in your nature.
“You seem kinda off when he’s brought up. Can I ask why?” Your bold question made you wanna squeeze your eye’s shut until the moment was over, and the growing silence made it even worse.
“Another time?” Ellie answered begrudgingly. You felt bad for even asking.
“Yeah yeah of course. I- I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” All the sudden your hands were clammy and the long thread hanging from your top was wrapped around your index finger, restricting circulation. Anything to distract from your social slip-up.
“No, no, don't feel bad! I promise you did nothing, I- it’s just me.” She gave you an apologetic smile and suddenly everything felt okay again.
“We’re still on for the boardwalk though, right?” you questioned, motivated by the need of reassurance.
“Yes. Please.” she affirmed. “If you want you can just hang here with me until then? I’ve still got like half an hour left.”
“Okay, yeah.” you gave a shy smile feeling less in control than in your usual interactions with Ellie. The fast growing feelings had suddenly clouded your incessant need to flirt and tease 24/7. What was this girl doing to you?
✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -
As the sun set south in the watercolor sky, the green tinted waves crashed just past the dock where you stood. Ellie was positioned beside you with both hands awkwardly in the pockets of her distressed jeans. Nerves were obviously eating her up.
“Chill out Els, this is gonna be fun!!” you smiled all teeth and nudged at her tattooed arm which she eventually released from the denims tight hold. You snatched her free hand, which was concerningly wet, and dragged her through the crowds of people. Ellie didn’t complain once and if you had asked her to jump off a cliff too she probably would have done it right then and there.
You looked up at the towering ride in front of you and then turned to give Ellie some puppy dog eyes, “Can we pleaseee ride the ferris wheel?”
“Yeah of course, whatever you want.” And she meant it. The only thing Ellie asked of this night was to see your gorgeous smile and hear the symphony that was your giggles. She wanted you to be happy– happy with her.
After waiting in a short line of babbling kids and adults, a small blue pod sheltered by white, plastic roofing swooped down to load in more passengers. You slid onto the bench attached to the left side and Ellie situated herself opposite, hand anxiously gripping the edge of the seat. The wheel began to move as you sat face-to-face, only a thin white pole separating the two of you. You gripped it between your hands before peaking around to question her.
“Are you scared of me or of heights?”
“Huh? Wha- what do you mean?”
“I meannnn… you’re huddled up in that corner like I’ve got Covid or something. Come sit with me Els. I miss you.” You batted your eyelashes and gave a pout like you were a sick puppy who only Ellie could cure. She could barely keep her composure when you flirted like this and was of course already embarrassed enough for sitting so far away. But how could you blame her? The poor girl was so anxious and had basically zero play to go off of.
In frantics, she scurried over to the other bench causing the apparatus to rock back and forth with a screech and you let out a little squeal in return. Ellie came to your protection leaving only centimeters between each other and you essentially lost all brain function.
With a sheepish laugh she apologized, “Sorry I’m so fucking stupid sometimes.”
“Hey don’t say that!” You scooted to the right, closing the gap between her jean-clad thigh and yours. “You are not stupid Ellie Williams.”
“I kinda am.”
“What makes you think that?” you asked, placing a comforting hand to her tense shoulders.
“I don’t think you wanna know…”
“I do Ellie. Seriously, you can tell me.”
“Well, uh- I guess I just feel stupid cause… I can’t tell if this is supposed to be a date.” She looked down in shame at her confession. “And I- I feel even more stupid for wondering that.”
Moving your hand to her thigh you gave a long sigh, “Oh els, don’t feel stupid for my shortcomings. I know it’s childish, but even now I can never seem to find the courage to say how I really feel.” Ellie’s face was teetering on the verge of surprise at your admission.
“Well, how do you really feel?” she appealed.
With slight hestance you spoke the truth, “I feel like… I also want this to be a date.” The girl smiled wide and patted your knee with care.
“I guess we’re on a date then, huh?”
“Yeah I guess we are.” you poked back. But before you could even take in the view from your spot on the ferris wheel, your pod had already reached bottom and the metal door swung open to exit. Maybe another time when you weren’t so captivated by the girl in front of you.
After a few games and an ice cream stop, the sun had set and crowds dissipated. Although it was obvious that neither you or Ellie were ready for the night to end.
“Sooo, what now?” you looked all around trying to think of an excuse to stay out longer.
“I have a joint in my bag… if you’re up to smoking. We can light up on the beach.”
“Ellie– I’m always up for smoking.” Problem solved.
✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -
Sitting cozy in the sand, Ellie reached into her navy blue backpack to grab the weed and you watched dotingly. As she zipped the front pouch back up you noticed a small pin– a rocket ship
“What’s that?”
“Just a pin. I’m into space shit.” she answered, pulling out a forest green lighter from her back pocket.
“Ooo tell me more!” Ellie released the joint that was about to be lit, genuinely stunned at your interest in her nerdy fixation.
“Well, I wanna be an astronaut. Kinda like Sally Ride. That’s why I’m a STEM major.”
“Hell yeah, women in STEM! But ummm, who’s Sally Ride though?”
Her eyes went wide, “You don't know who Sally Ride is??” This spun her into a long tangent about the famous astronaut, and the strides she made for women, and how it’s even cooler because as Ellie put it, “she was gay!!”. As she rambled on you felt your feelings multiply. You had never seen her talk so much, and with so much passion too. It was a sight to see– one that you’d save to memory.
“Sorry, am I talking too much?” she questioned.
“No, not at all Els! I love it. I love hearing you talk.” You gave a reassuring beam as Ellie finally lit the joint that had been rolling around in her lap after the conversational detour. The salty air picked up making it hard to ignite the paper so you offered a helping hand to shield the wind. Ellie accepted graciously, eventually taking the first inhale and passing it over to you. Sitting criss-cross in the sand, you held the burning substance between your pointer and thumb before taking a savory puff.
“God, it feels like ages since I last smoked.”
“Have you not been able to find a good plug here?” Ellie wondered.
“Not exactly…” you took a pregnant pause considering if you even wanted to mention it. “I haven’t been completely honest about the real reason I’m staying with my grandparents.” Ellie didn’t seem to phased at this. She had suspected something was up after the odd cigarette incident with your grandma.
“You know I’d never judge you ____. You can tell me, really.”
“It’s embarrassing but… my parents banished me here for acting out at school.” you admitted.
“Really? What’d you do?” she questioned, taking another drag from the lit joint.
“My smoking and drinking habits were a little ‘out of whack’. And apparently so were the little escapades that those habits got me into.”
“What do you mean by… ‘escapades’?”
“Umm, sex. With girls.” You plummeted your finger into the sand, feeling way over the situation already. “My parents swear they’re not homophobic but sometimes I wonder if they would’ve reacted the same if I was hooking up with some frat dude instead.”
“Damn I’m sorry. So they must be really mad then?”
“I guess, they rarely even call. But I’m not sad about it anymore so it’s okay.” Ellie noticed a gloss form on your eyes and refused to believe that there wasn’t at least a little part of you that was still hurt. Like instinct she roped you into a tender hug and you reciprocated with your hand around her neck. When she pulled back a small tear fell to your cheek and you quickly wiped it trying to stay tough.
“Now you owe me an explanation after that one.” you sniffled once more, eventually moving past the momentary sadness.
“Fine.” Ellie almost had to convince herself to keep talking. “Joel isn’t my dad, but he’s like my dad, and everyone thinks he’s my dad which just makes things weird.”
“Not to pry, but uh could you maybe elaborate?” Ellie stared off into the sea as she dumped her heart out.
“My real parents didn’t stick around for long. I was bouncing from home to home for a while until I turned 14. Joel found me, he was a family friend, and we’ve kinda been inseparable since. I hate when it’s brought up though. It’s a reminder that the people who were made to love me just didn’t. I had to find it elsewhere. And even now, years later with Joel, I still sometimes feel so void of worth.” Finally looking back to you she was met with streams of your tears.
“Ellie what the fuck. That’s heavy... I’m so fucking sorry.” You just wanted to hold her for eternity and tell her that everything was gonna be okay. Tell her that she was worth something– she was worth everything.
“Hey, hey no need to cry. I’m alright now, I promise. Joel is awesome.” she reassured, using a rough thumb to brush away the drops littering the apples of your cheeks. You placed your hand on top of hers feeling the comforting warmth.
“Els, I-” Before you could even finish her lips had met yours in a spur of the moment kiss. You reciprocated as both of her hands flew to the sides of your face to pull you in deeper.
It felt like you were the only 2 people in the world and this moment was all that mattered. Passion rose as you slid your tongue into Ellie's mouth, playing a game of tag with her own pink muscle. The girl—more confident than you had ever seen—found your wrists and sent you back into the sand with purchase, obviously hungry for something.
But just as things were getting good your phone began going off like crazy. After about 7 buzzes and Ellie’s lips traveling down your neck, you had to swiftly roll out from under her to see what was up. The poor girl looked like a kicked puppy at the loss of your touch. She watched as you read through messages and immediately jumped to your feet, grabbing your bag along the way. It was Grams. And she was mad.
“Fuck fuck fuck!! I’m sorry Ellie, I have to leave. Like now.” you blurted anxiously.
“Wait what?”
“I’m sorry! I promise to explain later but I have to go.” Ellie sat confused and unresolved as she watched you disappear into the darkness with only the moonlight to guide.
✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -
The night after coming home late, Grams had smelt the weed and in turn confiscated your phone, along with all freedoms you once possessed. “As much as it hurts to do this, I promised your parents I’d enforce some rules” she had told you as you pleaded for mercy. You were officially fucked and didn’t even have your phone to explain it to Ellie. What was she gonna think? How could you get around this? But as you lay on your bed a certain book catches your eye and that’s when it hits you.
With a pen and a brightly colored index card you scribbled out a simple note. It read...
Dear Ellie, if you’re receiving this then my plan has worked. I’m currently writing from the confines of my bedroom which I will be isolated in for the next week. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to communicate this but my grandparents weren’t too happy about breaking curfew to go “smoke pot” (which i reeked of). I don’t have my phone either, but god I miss you Els. So… if you can ever forgive me, come knock on my window late tonight and maybe I’ll let you in ;).
You slipped the small, highlighter-yellow note into the pages of The Bell Jar and handed it off to Grams to run next door, arguing that “Ellie needs it back immediately” and “it just can’t wait”. She eventually gave in after some well thought out begging and delivered the borrowed book to Joel. He then handed it back to the green-eyed girl who at first didn’t even wanna touch it.
Ellie was convinced you’d purposefully abandoned her– just like everyone else in her life. Her heart was broken and all she had done since that night was play Valorant, high out of her mind, while ignoring the rest of the world. Luckily, Joel noticed the bright yellow peaking from the paper and urged her to crack it open and take a second look. And after a quick thumb of the pages she fell upon your note which practically gave her a heart attack as she read. Ellie instantly dropped the controller at your whim and hopped in the shower to get ready for that night.
✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -
The girl sported some heather gray Champion sweats and an oversized band tee as she slipped through the back door of her house. She opened the back gate to a small strip of grass that was the space between your house and hers, but just as the clock hit 12:00, the automatic sprinklers shot up to do their duty. Ellie was pinned to the edge of the fence as water began spraying at all points of the yard. There was no way she was getting to your window– at least, not dry. Assessing the situation, the only thing left to do was run straight through the line of fire and hope you were keeping a close ear.
She bent her knees, digging the toe of her converse into the moist dirt and then bolted over to the glass. Ellie was being pelted left and right as she knocked on your window to be let in, but you were taking your sweet damn time, and those polite taps soon became desperate ones. After about 8 chaotic bangs you eventually opened up, scolding Ellie for the loud noise and then taking note of her current state.
“Sprinklers–” she gasped, out of breath. “You never told me about the sprinklers.”
“Ellie- oh my god.” you put a hand to your mouth trying not to laugh but miserably failing. She climbed inside, rolling her eyes.
“Hey! I did this for you, fuck off.”
“Sorry, sorry I know!” You traveled to your closet still laughing as you grabbed a spare towel and clothes. “Sit. Let’s get you changed” you commanded.
Ellie placed herself on the very edge of the bed, eyes locked on your figure. She raised her arms up and peeled off the drenched T-shirt leaving her in a simple sports bra which you couldn’t help but ogle at. Then followed her sweats which stuck to the flesh of her toned thighs before finally dropping at her ankles. She wore the sweetest plaid boxers, and now naked before you, she looked so shy.
Towel in hand, you straddled her knees which dangled off the mattress just slightly. Any thoughts of self doubt had left and all she could think about was you and how close you were to her heat. You ruffed up her dripping locks of hair with the soft linen and soaked up what you could. Ellie’s arms fell back into the bed, trying to fight the urge to grip both of your thighs in her strong hands, right then and there. The silky, sheer pajama shorts adorning those thighs were not helping her case either.
“There, all better.” you smiled, doing some final scrunches to the ends of her hair. “Wanna put on some dry clothes now?” Ellie gulped down some fear and slipped her hands to your waist.
“No, not really.” she muttered.
“Oh yeah?” you teased, slinging your hands over her shoulders and connecting them at the back of her neck.
“Yeah.” Ellie affirmed and then slid her hands down to the fat bunching at the crease of your thighs. She pulled forward till your crotch was on hers and breaths became irregular.
“I missed you Els.” you said, before planting a juicy kiss onto her slightly chapped lips.
“Missed you too ___” she murmured between lips locking. “I was starting to think you hated me.” You pulled back quickly, both hands on her face. How could you ever dislike someone as perfect as Ellie? And how could you ever let her think that?
“Never baby, never.” you said, smooching the damp hairs on her head. “Let me make it up to you, okay?”
“Okay.” She agreed and the kissing resumed but this time on her neck. Wet, purple marks of your doing sent butterflies to Ellie’s stomach, and as you started to roll your hips her head flew back with a gasp. She quickly caught on, gripping your sides to assist the fervent grinding. Your fingers traveled down her abs, tracing the v-line, before finding themselves in the vats of her boxers.
“Is this okay Els?”
“Yes, yes please” she gasped. You dipped down further and were greeted with strings of slick and Ellie already bumping against you for pressure.
You gave a sly smile, “All this for me?” She nodded, almost proud at her quick arousal. “Here lie back and let's take these off. I’m gonna take care of you tonight.” Ellie of course followed in suit, scooching against the headboard and revealing her bare cunt. On all fours, you climbed towards her with the intent to please and only that. She slammed her lips into yours as soon as you were in reach, it was impatient and primal– a side you rarely saw from Ellie. Through breaks of tongue, teeth, and spit you discarded any and all clothes covering your flesh.
The sight of your breasts quickly shifted Ellie’s attention. Goosebumps exploded up your body when she soon took them in her grabby hands. She twisted at your hard nipples as your hands found their way back down to her anticipating folds. Your fingers split between middle and ring then gliding through Ellie’s slick, capturing her bundle of nerves with each pass. The pleasure was indescribable except through the gasps and moans she was making into your mouth. Coated in Ellie, you couldn’t help wiping her mess across the expanse of your tongue and sucking it clean.
“You taste fucking perfect.” you elated and Ellie went red. She wasn’t used to dirty talk like this. In all honesty, she wasn’t used to any of it. But god was she willing to learn. With a short preview of her taste, you inched down to try the real thing. You couldn’t wait any longer and pushed up and open at the girls knees to get a better angle. Her hole clenched in prospect as you playfully ghosted your lips past her clit a couple of times.
Finally taking it between your lips Ellie’s eyes completely rolled back, jaw going slack. You gave a gentle suck before sticking out your tongue to make slow, tight circles. This one really drove her wild which you noted from the arch of her back and guttural moans echoing off the walls.
“Els baby, you gotta be quiet for me.” She whined at your request, however complied. There’s no way you were getting caught with your tongue inside the next door neighbor, but god were her little noises music to your ears.
Next came your fingers and she squirmed with the insertion of the middle one. You pumped in and out slowly and it was obvious that Ellie was trying her best to keep quiet. She was practically drawing blood from the strong bite she had on her bottom lip, whimpering ever so often.
Rubbing circles at her thigh and adding another finger, you praised, “You’re being such a good girl for mommy.” Ellie’s hips jolted, and olive-colored eyes went wide at the name– something she never thought would turn her on. It was something that had just slipped from your lips, too caught up in the moment, but now that it was out in the air it just made you all the more wet. Your pace picked up and it grew harder to penetrate through the desperate clenches of her walls. You took it as a challenge and added your mouth back into the mix, really trying to push her to the limits.
“Ahh f- fuck” she cursed out with ramblings of your name. Knowing how good you made her feel drove you crazy, and through swipes of tongue and fingers you found yourself grinding into the stiff mattress below. Ellie was obsessed with the way you rocked your hips and even sat up a little bit to get a better view. This, combined with the work you were doing on her core, forced her to the brink of satisfaction. Her stomach sucked in tight, feeling the build-up of pleasure inside.
“J- just like that, a- almost there-” she sobbed through the wet squelches of her folds.
“You gonna say please for me?” you questioned, slowing down your movements just enough to make her listen.
Stuttering through it she obeyed, “P-please mommy, please c- can I cum?”
“Go ahead baby.” Just hearing those words made you almost gush right along with her so you rewarded the girl with an unfaltering pace. Ellie was right where you wanted her, clenching every muscle at the bliss you so graciously gave her. With your thumb on her clit and fingers curling up to hit just the right spot, she buckled along with attempts to muffle the groans she couldn't hold in any longer.
“Shit, I- I’m cu-cumming.” Her thighs flew shut but you quickly parted them back as you coached her through the euphoric feeling.
“You’re doing so fucking amazing Els.” You planted kisses across her thighs as she rode out her orgasm to a limp state. Ellie had yet to open her eye’s after the second finger and was still coming back down to Earth. Climbing up the bed to lay next to her, you brushed all the hair stuck in the girl's freckles, occasionally giving a slight peck of comfort. She finally fluttered her lids open and her pupils exploded with love. No one had ever taken care of her so well, and she’d thank you for it until the end of time.
✄ - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡
taglist...
@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy
(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)
#wlw#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfic#ellie smut#ellie tlou#ellie williams fan fiction#ellie williams series#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie x fem reader#callmelola111#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie williams tlou#tlou#the last of us#tlou 2#tlou 2 smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou2#tlou ellie#the last of us 2#tlou series#the last of us ellie
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Call Her Daddy.
Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader
Words 829
Warnings Sexual references, fluff and strong language...obviously.
I hope I've done this one right! I've never heard of the podcast, nor have I listened to it but I did a some research and just went for it!
"Hello first of all I’m a huge fan of your work, I have an idea in mind hope you like it. Y/n and travis have been dating for a bit just there close friends know about the relationship and Alex copper a close friend of the reader invites them on her podcast call her daddy where they talk about there relationship/sex life"
"Okay, next question. What is your favourite sexual position?"
You hummed in thought, "I love being on top." You smiled at Alex who nodded in agreement, "There's something about being on top that gives me a sense of power, isn't there? It's a bit dominating."
"Would you say that you like being in the more dominant role in the bedroom?" Alex questioned.
"Sometimes." You giggled, "But on the flipside, I really like being thrown around, you know? Like...lifted up, thrown onto the bed, pushed up against the wall, carried around...that's what I want."
Alex fanned her face with her hand, "Phew, you're speaking the truth here Y/N. So, I promised an exclusive scoop earlier to everybody and I think it's about time that we get to that. Y/N is not my only guest on this episode, we have someone joining us, don't we?"
You laughed, "Yeah, I've been seeing some rumours flying around regarding my dating life and I gotta be honest, a lot of people are getting it all wrong!"
"Gotta love those rumours!"
"So, when Alex asked me to come on Call Her Daddy, I thought it was the perfect time to set the record straight. Plus, I'm going on tour soon and he'll be at quite a few shows so everyone will figure it out eventually anyway."
"So, our guest is someone that you're dating?"
You smiled and adjusted your headphones, "Yeah, we've been dating for a while now and so far, it's only family and close friends that have known about it but we agreed that it's probably time to let everyone else know."
Alex leaned into her microphone, "Just for full transparency, I knew!"
"Yeah you were one of the first people that I told, I couldn't keep that secret from you!"
"Id' have gotten it out of you eventually, I'm good at that!" Alex cleared her throat, "Right, let's not keep everyone waiting for much longer. Daddy Gang, our extra special guest on today's episode is none other than...Travis Kelce!"
You both gave Travis a round of applause as he placed headphones over his ears and smiled into the microphone, "Alright now!"
You grinned and placed your hand on his leg, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Alex took a sip from her water, "Okay, now Travis, you're not new to the podcast scene, we all know that."
Travis snickered, "Nah, I feel at home like this! But I gotta say, New Heights is completely different. You know, me and Jason don't talk about what I think we're going to be talking about here!"
"Yeah, that would be weird!" You laughed.
"Right, let's get straight to it. What's the sexiest thing about Y/N?"
"Oh wow, no messing around here, baby!" He rubbed his beard, "The sexiest thing about my girl?"
"You can only pick one!" Alex lifted an eyebrow.
"That's not easy. Honestly, I think she's the sexiest woman in the world. She could be folding laundry and I'm still mesmerised by her! But the sexist thing about her is definitely how ambitious she is. She has worked her fucking ass off to get what she has got and what makes it even better, is that she did it all herself. I love watching her perform, because I can see what it means to her and how much she has sacrificed to be able to do it. It's amazing, man."
Your lips curled into a huge smile, a wave of happiness washing over you.
"Aww guys, you're going to make me cry! And that's not the vibe I was going for! We want the juicy details!"
Travis mumbled, "Oh...umm...her ass?"
You and Alex both laughed loudly.
"Is that's what you wanted?" Travis looked to Alex who was clutching at her stomach.
"I liked your first answer, baby." You placed your arm gently around his shoulders and traced circles on the back of his neck with your finger.
"I'm sure a lot of people will want to know how you two manage to date with your busy schedules."
You clasped your hands together, "It's difficult, it really is. But we make sure that we keep some time aside for each other. Even if it is just sitting down to have breakfast together or an hour long phone call."
"Technology helps. We like Facetime, we use that one a lot." Travis agreed.
Alex grinned a mischievous smile, "Do the Facetime calls ever get a bit heated...a bit explicit?"
You glanced at Travis with a knowing look, "If I said no-"
"She's be lying." He said loudly.
Your mouth flew open in shock and Alex clapped her hands together, "I knew it!"
"Oh, come on" We're all adults here, we know how those calls can end up sometimes. If Travis calls me shirtless, chances are I'm gonna get a bit...distracted. I Facetimed him from the shower last week." Your cheeks were beginning to deepen in colour, "My God, how do you get this information out of people?!"
______________________________________________________________
I hope that was okay!
As always, your comments and messages are always appreciated! You're all too kind! I'll be working through some more requests this week (whenever I have some spare time) and if you want to be added to my Taglist, just let me know!
Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @killatravtramp @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles
#travis kelce x reader#travis kelce imagine#kelce x reader#nfl imagine#original story#travis kelce fic#travis kelce#nfl fluff#travis kelce fluff#kelcemenow requests
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"Oh my god you guys, you are soooo going to hate me, or maybe love me for this....? So.... this guy reached out to me on Instagram and he's a really famous photographer. Apparently he's doing a whole gallery about artistically showing really dramatic and inspiring detransition journeys.... So, trans men going from intelligent, handsome dudes with full beards to basically big-boobed trad wives pregnant with quintuplets, IQs lowered to the 50s. And of course he's cataloguing trans girls going from looking like me to big, macho, muscular men, with full beards, huge cocks..... He said it's OK if I don't want to detrans, a lot of the people he reaches out to have no interest in detransitioning personally, but decide to just to participate in his project. Soooo, don't kill me..... I agreed to join!
I actually have considered detransing off and on in the past, to see what male puberty would feel like, to see my cock get nice and big, and of course every trans girl's biggest fantasy: to cum like a man and shoot a dozen ropes of cum in a row. He showed me his t-girl models. Such gorgeous girls! Huge natural boobs, fat asses, the prettiest faces you can imagine. Most of them had no interest at all in detransitioning and were just flattered by his offer. We get paid, too, which is nice. What finally convinced me is he had a former trans guy message me, this sweet girl who still sounded kinda like a boy from all the T, who looked divine. Super curvy, breasts about as big as mine, full of milk, pregnant with sextuplets, long silky hair, a giggling mess with a huge smile. She teased me, telling me how much more fun I'd have fucking former fake-boys like her than being a girl. She asked me if I ever shoved my cock in a girl's pussy and got her pregnant. Of course I haven't. She teased me about being an impotent fake-girl. That I needed to work out, get muscular, lose my oversized moobs, grow my cock to over a foot long..... embrace being male.
Not going to lie, I jerked off during our exchange and came sooooo hard, for a fake-girl, anyway. I wanna take T and detrans so bad. I wanna get girls pregnant. I need to stop playing dress up and showing off the silly cow-tits I made my poor male body grow. It's time I lose them, bulk up, and become a hairy alpha guy who can lift girls like me right off our feet and fuck us senseless! I need to fuck gorgeous pregnant college girls and get lots of girls pregnant--especially poor misguided fake-boys. It's time I embrace being a man and give up on being such silly imitation of a girl, who gets morning wood and stares at girl's fat titties..... who jerks off ten times a day watching hardcore porn of girls getting put in their place, face-fucked, gang banged, used and abused as girls should be. I'm not some silly fake-girl who jiggles her ridiculous, estrogen-bloated boy-tits at people, hoping to get fucked in the ass by desperate guys. I should be an alpha, mocking fake-girls like me for our pathetic little hard cocks bulging out of our skirts and dresses because pretending to be a girl makes us soooo hard!
I hope you guys aren't too mad. This photographer really showed me who I'm meant to be. I can't wait to lose these stupid-looking boy-tits and finally become a man! My OnlyFans content will change from topless walking vids, topless public vids, public masturbation vids, and whipping out my phone when men decide to fuck me on public transportation, to me fucking gorgeous curvy girls, impregnating and reminding fake-boys to be good girls, and having my way with fake-girls in public, as I'm so used to, but I'll give them a nice shot of T as I fuck them to help them along to becoming men, too. ❤️"
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Shopping Trip With One Piece Characters
Part of a trade with the awesome @softcenteregg
Doffy
- The very definition of “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”
Has money but you will have to pay for him all day when it comes to lunch and drinks.
Will be sitting at a restaurant at 11 am with a cocktail as he tells you about his week, regardless of if you asked or not.
Checks out the mall hotties.
Laughs when people open push/pull doors wrong.
Always has a cocktail or a Starbucks clutched in one hand, waving his credit card around in the other hand.
Rude to salespeople.
You will be dragged through the mall for hours because he needs to go into every designer shop he can and try on at least seventeen pairs of $400 sunglasses or he’ll die.
Will be the most overdressed person in the area,
When your having lunch with him and he sees someone he doesn’t like, he will be like “Oh hey! Been so long since we hung out, should do it again soon!” then soon as they're gone he’s dishing the dirt.
Also, you will carry his bags, thx.
Roger
Makes you wish you could get those reigns for kids but in adult sizes.
In fact, the entire trip is like taking a child out for his birthday.
Ever seen a huge bearded man grinning in pure glee at the new limited edition Build a Bear products? Ever seen one make like 12?
Do yourself a favor and limit his booze and sugar intake.
Is confused he can’t do a pub crawl in a mall.
Buys alot of those ‘alcoholic chocolates’ by the box load in an attempt to get a nice buzz going.
Thrift shopping but he will try on everything he can.
Does not know how to dress but does it with style, oddly enough.
You won’t get a chance to sit down or rest unless it’s dinner time.
At least he’ll sleep well tonight.
Kid
Hit’s all the stores that sell music and band merch.
Will snort at people who buy things he doesn’t like.
Throws around words like ‘poser’ and judges everyone.
The kinda metal kid who hangs out at the mall with all the wallet chains looking like their parents grounded them, but in their late 20s.
Will spend hours looking for CDs and just say he’s too broke and he’ll download it online anyway.
Walks around the mall trying to find the right shade of lipstick with Killer, both their arms and hands are covered in testers before they both just get more black nail varnish and the same shade they always buy.
Has a reusable plastic cup that's full of jack and coke.
Taunts mall cops.
Killer
Imagine all of the above but he also spends alot of time looking at fancy new cook wear.
Will spend nothing on food all day but will drop $90 on a brand new crockpot or air fryer for the kitchen.
Very metal of him.
Thatch
Thatch is fun to go with.
Treats you, buys the coffee and lunch.
Is happy to do whatever you want as long as he gets to check out homeware sections while you look at your things.
You will never lose him behind shelves because you can always see his hair.
Like Jaws but with hair and ozone layer murdering levels of hairspray.
Will flirt with staff, will get talking to them for far too long, and hold up the line.
The type of person who has alot of change and makes it a personal challenge to count out change exactly.
Will carry your bags though, he’s a good boy.
Bit judgey on eatery places pastries.
Shanks
I hope you enjoy getting nowhere because when you're at a mall with Shanks or out and about in town you will be stopping every ten steps because someone recognises him and comes over and chats.
Has no concept of how long he’s been talking.
Is the type to have a pint with breakfast or brunch when you guys hang out.
Sale on ugly pants? He’d push you down to get there first.
Always texting the gang when he’s out.
Lol Benn guess what, I saw Buggy and he was with that guy, you know, the one with the hook, lol lol
Will drop Uta off at the mall kids' soft play area even though she’s 18 and still forget to pick her up before leaving.
Ace
Low key baits mall cops by loitering around and looking like an issue but has no intention of being an issue.
Might skateboard inside the mall.
Poses with ‘no skateboard’ signs.
Hopefully, there isn't an arcade in the mall because if you had any intention of getting things done today, that won’t happen now.
Hungry every 20 minutes and has to grab snacks.
100% the kinda friend/boyfriend who sits on the seats outside the changing rooms holding all the bags and groaning, acting like it’s the worst thing in the world.
Is one of those people who opens push/pull doors wrong.
Marco
After taking five minutes to park correctly he’s happy to go with the flow.
Likes to have a coffee and a people watch with you, chatty and social.
But he will drag you to shoe stores and you will be sat there for ages as he tries on every strappy sandal in the place, walking up and down and asking you what you think.
“I like this one but I don’t know if it makes me too tall yoi.” while you can’t for the life of you tell the difference between that pair and the last 40.
If you meet him at the mall he might be late, very much the shows up 20 minutes late with Starbucks.
Has a tendency to wander off in shops and you spend half your time looking for him.
Doesn’t give a warning when entering a shop if something shiny caught his bird brain.
Benn
He hates the mall.
Imagine a dad who has to take his teenage daughter clothes shopping and that’d basically be him with Shanks.
Benn is a very ‘I know what I am here for’ in and out kind of person but he doesn’t mind going to other places with you.
Ignores staff-only signs when he knows there is a smoking area on the other side of that door.
Is the person to remind you of the ‘insert thing here we have at home’ and is a shop sensible person, though he won't say anything if you do buy another T-shirt that looks exactly like the one you already have.
Pretends to be annoyed at carrying the shopping, but he offered and he likes to help you out.
If you complain about your feet hurting he’ll helpfully tell you he told you to wear your other shoes.
Sabo and Luffy
Banned
Both have their pictures up in the security office.
Sabo for giving the mall cops the finger, graffiti, and shoplifting.
Luffy peed in the fountain and kept stealing pick-n-mix.
#one piece x reader#one piece reader insert#marco the phoenix#one piece x you#sfw#one piece#portgas d ace#red haired pirates#red haired shanks#fire fist ace#fushichou marco#thatch#ace op#marco op#shanks op#benn op#benn beckman#gol d roger#sabo#sabo the revolutionary#monkey d luffy#monkey d luffy x reader#massacre soldier killer#eustass kid#eustasscaptainkid#doffy#doflamingo#doflamingo x reader
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Art Therapist!Reader x Task Force 141
Summary: Today we’ll get to look at the first client, John Price.
Notes: I should comment that I’m not sure if I want this to go in a platonic route or a romantic way so we’ll see from here. Might make the readers decide. <3
I hope i capture all of the boys good, because I’m still fairly new writing for the cod men.. sorry if they’re very ooc </3
Oh boy.. writing this took a minute and I’m so not impressed with this one but trust.. this will get better :)
Do reblog, like, and comment to lmk what you think about this!
Thank you, sweets! 🎀
Part One. Client One: John Price.
The clack of your heels were heard through the halls as you smiled brightly, excited to get to know one of your new clients.
You had two sheets on a clipboard in your arms, a notepad in the other and a tote bag in your left arm.
You had some things you’d like to discuss with him, comforts, favorite snacks and tea. These are important you know! You always got the jitters when you had a new client.
Walking into your small office you sat your bag down on the side of your chair, and placed the clipboard and notepad neatly on your desk.
A sigh left your mouth and you rolled your neck around, trying to crack it and find relief.
“Mm.. ok, where to start..?” You mumbled to yourself as you looked at your bag and nodded.
Starting to unload everything you put your thermal cup filled with peppermint tea on your desk, a sketchbook, coloring book, and coloring pencils neatly into a pile.
Next you pressed the button on your work phone to hear all of your new voice mails and put lights on, in the dimly lit room.
You had two lamps that brightened the room with a nice yellow hue and a flower lamp on your desk that shined a pink light.
“Ms. Kate left a voice message, it says, ‘Good morning, you said 9:30 but we’ll be there a bit earlier than that. He’s adamant about being early to things. John is a very— He’s a man that likes to stay on the move you know? Keep that in mind. He likes his hands full. Anyways, see you around 9:20– 25. Thank you, Again.’ —”
You laughed at her comment, knowing well you like to have your hands full too and can’t stay doing nothing for too long.
The time on your clock stated 9:15, so they’d be here soon. There wasn’t much else you needed to set up in your cozy office but you decided to fluff out the pillows on the couch across from your desk and prep your notes.
Finally, after you killed some time drawing in your sketchbook you heard a knock on your door. There was quiet chatter.
“Come in please!” You called out, closing your sketchbook and looking up towards the door.
In walked in who you assumed was Kate Laswell and behind her was a handsome gruff looking man. He was very well built, a nice beard and mustache and he looked around the same age as the woman. He also had a nice ass but you shook your head away from those thoughts.
Standing up your walked around your desk and grinned widely, you stated your name and then, “It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you. I’m very excited for todays session if you couldn’t tell..”
“Nothing wrong with that. I’m hoping this goes smoothly.” The man, who you’re sure is John, smiles at you and nods approvingly.
“Yes, you won’t give her a hard time right?” Kate jokes and he shakes his head and raises his eyebrows.
“She should be worried about Soap. That man is a twat sometimes.” You chuckled along with him and waved your hand dismissing that.
You pointed to the couch and asked them to have a seat so you could talk to them about basics first and grabbed your notepad and a pen, sitting in your chair.
“Before we start, I want to re-introduce myself. My name is y/n, and I’ve been doing art therapy for three years. I have a degree in arts and a degree in counseling/therapy.” You waved your hands around as you talked.
Kate and John nodded at your words as you spoke and they seemed pretty impressed with what you said.
“Kate Laswell, John Price. It’s nice to meet someone enthusiastic like you.”
You smiled at the comment and then let the two settle in on the couch. Tapping your fingers in your desk you spoke again.
“Ok so, I’m sure you may have questions that you wanted to ask personally! Some worries and concerns?” You tilted your head to the side and smiled, “Or would you like me to give you a brief explanation on what I strive to achieve with art therapy?”
“It’s be nice if you explained it better.. I feel like this is too childish for a man like me.” John commented.
“Mhm, I understand what you mean. A lot of people believe that but it’s all about what works for YOU. Art is a form of expression that anyone can use. Why not incorporate that into helping others and finding yourself too, Hm?” You aided.
It was a bit silent in the room after what you said. John nodded his head, his arms crossed over his chest and pursed his lips, turning to face Kate.
“I like you. Hopefully the boys will too. God knows we need this type of energy with the line of work we’re involved in.” Kate sighs, “I’ll take my leave, and be back around.. 10:30?”
“Yes! 10:30 or you can come around 10:25. Either works for me, If it works for you,” You got up and extended your hand, “Thank you, by the way. I live my life as optimistic as possible and like to bring that into the workplace.”
Kate nods and shakes your hand. Her hold is firm and strong, she’s a kind woman.
“John, play nice.” She said, facing the older man, before leaving and giving you a smile.
After she left you looked at Price and clapped your hands together.
“Well, now I have some personal questions for you. These are about boundaries but I hope you do know we might have to cross them once in a while ok?” You sat on top of your desk this time moving your notepad and pen onto your lap.
John folded his hands on his lap and looked at you in your eyes. It was silent for a moment yet again, though you didn’t mind. If he needed time to formulate his words you’d give him all the time in the world.
He opened his mouth then closed it, with a huff he said, “There’s not many boundaries I have, I’m sure you’re supposed to start slow when doing these sessions, yea?” you nodded, “So I believe you won’t be asking too much about me yet, so when the time comes.. I’ll be somewhat of an open book.”
He smiled at you slightly, tight lipped and tapped his fingers against his knuckles.
You took a breath in, then let it out. Humming at his words you write down on your note pad:
‘Price. Little to no boundaries at all. Open book maybe by the third sesh.’
His eyes watch your fingers as you’re writing, he’s a bit tense, not really knowing what to do. He can already imagine Simon being worse than he is right now.
“Ok so! I do have a question that Ms.Kate didn’t really specify, and I forgot to ask. Is there a problem that’s bugging any of you? Or is this just to maintain a good mind set— or close to an ok mind set?” You put your hands out, trying to elaborate in a more understanding way, “For example, keeping your anger in check, having an outlet to let out heavy emotional burdens.. those types of things?”
John ran his fingers through his beard and tapped his foot on the ground, thinking on what you said. He didn’t exactly have any thing bugging him, he’s been working in the military for well around 18+ years and that’ll get you used to the atrocities you see.
“I’m pretty sure Kate had the latter in mind when doing these sessions. I know I don’t have much bugging me, I’m about ready to retire sometimes,” he joked with a laugh, “It’d be nice to have an outlet from what we do every now and then.”
You laughed with him and nodded your head. His words resonated well with you. Anyone knew that working in the military/army would drain you. Could leave you mentally unwell after years.
So you strived to understand and learn each and every one of these men. To hopefully be able to aid them in different, helpful ways.
“Well, im glad you think so! Now, I actually have something I want you to do today. It’s very simple.”
Pulling out a coloring book and some color pencils, you held them out in front of you, “So, we won’t be doing anything too big— yet! I have a coloring book here that goes based off of mood. It’s also a journal. I want you to write in this everyday, starting today, ok?”
John raised his brows at you and you raised yours back. He scratched his beard and looked down at the coloring book with different mood faces on it. He took a copy of one book and a pack of coloring pencils you offered after.
You opened up the book to the first page and pointed to the happy face. Underneath the face were lines and a quote that asks you why you were feeling the emotion you were feeling.
“Currently I’m feeling happy, I’ll take a yellow pencil and color that face in.” You explained simply, “I’m feeling this way because I’ve had my favorite tea, my cat cuddled with me this morning, and I’m looking forward to my new clients.”
Once you finished you turned the book around and showed John. “That’s all you have to do. Nothing too long, but if you prefer to do that I don’t mind. Just don’t give me a word or two. I want one to three sentences.”
You watched as he began to do what you did. He colored in the neutral face with a brown colored pencil and underneath he wrote two sentences explaining why he felt that way.
For the rest of your session you introduced yourself more and had him give you tid bits about his life and line of work. In your mind you wanted to have this space be as personal but comfortable as possible.
You talked a bit about your life as well, giving him insight into your day to day life and how your other sessions go sometimes without disclosing private information about your other clients.
Soon enough the time came to when he had to leave and your session ended.
As Kate waited by the door, you put your hand out towards John, “I hope to see that book filled out. If anything is bothering you after today, write it down and we can go over it, yea?” He nodded his head shaking your hand, and let out a gruff ‘yes’.
He left with that and you were alone in your office thinking over this mornings events. It was slow paced and simple. You didn’t like unpacking a lot of information on the first day. Over time they’d get more comfortable and the art part of this would help them express how they felt without speaking. Actions are always far bigger than words.
You cracked your knuckles and went back to your chair, looking through your schedule planner, tomorrow you’d have a man by the name of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.
Huh, what a name.
Tag list: @speckledemerald @mxtokko
If you want to be notified when more parts of this series comes out please lmk and I will add you to the tag list <3
#reader insert#black reader#cod mw fanfiction#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw2 x reader#mw2 price#john price x black reader#captain john price x reader#captain john price#cod mw art therapy au ୨୧
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Everyone is Trans???? (REAL NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
Grian is the only trans person on Hermitcraft.
He knows this as a complete and utter fact. He’s not lying about this, no matter how much he wishes he was-- and goodness, does he wish he was every damn day of his life. It’s lonely to be the only trans person on a server full of your dearest companions.
It’s not even a horrible thing. He doesn’t trust them any less, doesn’t love them any less, but he sure is peeved about being surrounded by cis people all the time. When he wants to talk about his hips looking too wide today, or his top surgery scars not sitting right enough for him, or the way he’s so happy he can finally grow something of a beard, or how having long hair has gone from something dysphoric to something euphoric for him-- he just can’t!
Because they won’t understand! And, sure, of course he can just tell them because they’re his friends and they care about him, but sometimes he doesn’t want to just be cared about. Sometimes he wants to be understood. Sometimes he doesn’t want to have to explain everything, going through the same tiring motions he’s gone over time and time again in his life.
Can a guy not just want another trans person to complain to? Is it really so hard for that to be his reality? Is it really so much to ask?
He’s having a particularly annoying day today. His stupid jeans aren’t fitting correctly on his hips. Usually he’s not too angry about it. On days where he feels more feminine he likes that he has these hips, revels in the way clothes hug his curves, but right now he’s feeling just about as Man as one possibly could, and it’s making him want to rip apart his clothes because none of them fit right.
He ends up in a pair of sweatpants that hide enough of himself so that he’s able to leave his base. The day outside is warmer than expected, beautiful and sunny, and he immediately regrets the large sweater and comfy sweatpants he had chosen to wear. The light glints off of the ocean, teasing him with its deep secrets that he will never be able to decipher.
In the distance he can see the newest addition to Scar’s train-- the big snail that those pesky snails had built. It worries him that they can build things all of a sudden. Still, it’s not like he can do anything about it. You just have to accept that they’re going to do whatever they please and then they’ll tone it down. It seems they like to cause mayhem. He can’t really knock them for that.
He unhooks Pluto from the post. He runs his hands through his mane, reveling in the coarse feeling. It takes his mind away from his body for a few seconds, lets him be completely and utterly still in a way that he often isn’t. Being so detail oriented and such a perfectionist can be hard on the psyche sometimes, especially when that energy is directed towards your body.
You might as well roll his boulder and call him Sisyphus because he’s… uh…
He’s having a rough go at it.
Pluto whinnies as he stops petting him, nudges his hand with his snout. It’s time to go check the shopping district. Maybe do permit things. Ugh.
The ride is uneventful. He smashes the glass to the permit office with his pickaxe, picks it back up and replaces it so that nobody gets any funny ideas. Don’t want them bothering him or anything of the sorts when he’s here. Having to work is his worst nightmare.
The office is as quiet as it is dark. He sighs so loud it fills up the space. He freshens up the light, makes sure that the sign telling people the door is out of order is in place, and then moves behind the filing cabinets, taking a look at his uniform that sits there.
Usually he likes how it fits. It’s tight, accentuating his flat chest and his curves. He likes it that way. Not today though.
Today he’ll forgo the outfit. It’s not like anyone is going to come in, anyways.
--
Twenty minutes later and he was very wrong. Someone is digging underneath the building, muttering to themselves, and Grian guesses who it is before he even pops his head in.
Of course Scar of all people needs help with permits today. He’s always looking for any chance he gets to bother Grian into doing work. He puts down his book, eyes him with an anger that he knows feels inappropriate even for him. Sue him, he’s having a bad day.
“Grian!” Scar’s voice is louder than he remembered. He’s got specks of dirt on his face.
He shoves his shovel into the dirt, leans on it, falls over a little bit as it teeters, tries to right himself, ends up just knocking the shovel over instead, stands up straight, puts his hands behind his back. Stops. Coughs. Smiles. Continues yapping.
“It’s so lovely to see you here! It’s such a coinkidink that fate would put the both of us here! In the permit office! At the same time! Almost as if we’re destined to meet here and do paperwork together and-- and help me with my permit so that I can actually do something as a zoo keeper…” His voice is quieter at the end. Grian pretends not to hear it.
“Scar.” He greets flatly. “What do you want?”
Disregarding his ire, Scar saunters up to him. “Oh, well, nothing too bad, G, nothing at all! I wouldn’t dream of making you work or anything-- um…” He stops suddenly. He opens his mouth. He closes it, looking him up and down. If a visual question mark could appear over a person’s head, it absolutely would in this moment. “You’re not dressed up in your-- your little… office uniform! Your little suit! Where’s your clip-on tie, Grian?”
Ugh. “Office Grian is out of the building today.”
That does not do anything to quell Scar’s confusion. His big ol’ eyes look wet and pathetic as he stares at him. “B-B-B-B-But… how am I supposed to get help with my form if office Grian isn’t here?”
“You’re just gonna have to deal with good ol’ regular Grian today.”
He loves Scar beyond words-- really, it drains him how much he loves this man-- but today is not the day for him. He can feel his energy departing out of his body already. He was going to try and stick it out for a while today. It looks like plans are changing swiftly.
“Is regular Grian as know-- legible. Knoll… knowledge…” He hums, goes down a different path. “Do you know how to do the form? Because I need some serious help, G.”
He drags a hand down his face. It’s sweaty. “Office Grian doesn’t even know how to do the form, Scar.”
“What?!” This is genuine surprise from him. “So you’re tellin’ me that this form is all… all…”
“Bullshit?” He finishes the sentence for him. “Yeah. Pretty much.” His head is starting to hurt. “Ugh. Look, Scar, I’m not feeling good today, so maybe we can leave this for another day?”
The humour drops from Scar’s face. It leaves genuine concern. “Yeah-- I mean, no worries. Of course. Of course! Do you… uh, do you need-- need anything? Want to… talk about it?”
It’s tentative. An olive branch. Scar is a very kind guy. A genuinely nice person. He thinks he’s perhaps caught him off guard with how open he’s being right now. It leaves him quiet and thoughtful.
When the smile is off of Scar’s face one can really appreciate the way he looks. It’s not like his smile isn’t beautiful-- because it is, it’s moreso that this stillness is rare for him, moments of calm few and far between his cheesy one-liners and fake grins, and so when one is awarded this sight it feels disarming.
He often forgets how beautiful Scar is. He thinks about how handsome he is on the daily, a fact which he divulges to nobody but himself, achingly aware of it everytime he sees him. Yet he misses how pretty he is. It makes his heart hurt.
“Um.” He says as he snaps himself out of his… state. With nothing else to say, he just goes, “okay?” Y’know, like someone who wasn’t just staring deep into their friend’s eyes and remarking on how gorgeous they are. Like a smart and normal person. He grins to try and make it look extra convincing.
Scar’s face immediately screws up into worry. It was not convincing.
“Ohhhh, god. Who are you and what have you done with Grian? I-I-I-I’m scared! You actually want to talk about it? What kind of sorcery is this?”
The bit of humour grounds him. He snorts. “Scar, don’t make me regret my choice.”
That shocks him into movement. His friend’s head whips around, eyes looking for something. He runs around the office wildly, tripping over his untied shoelaces, ignoring his squawk of “tie your shoes Scar!”, and comes back with two chairs. He sets them down in front of the desk, patting the other one. When Grian doesn’t move he pats it again, more insistent. Finally he acquiesces, leaving the comfort of the desk and sitting across from Scar.
“So!” His voice is far too cheery. His smile is straining at the edges. He’s out of his element right now, Grian realizes. And it’s because he always has to fight to get these talks out of Grian. It’s like pulling tooth and nail sometimes. And here he is, just ready to… to bare it all.
Oh, god. He’s going to talk to him. About his problems. And his body.
He suddenly feels sick.
“I think I may throw up.”
Scar’s smile falls. “What?”
He splays his upper body across the desk. His stomach is doing flips. “This. This is going to kill me, Scar. Do you understand?”
“N-No?”
“I am going to die a painful death, Scar, and it’s all because you made me talk about my… my feelings!” He makes a throwing up sound.
“Now you-- you just wait a second, mister!” Scar leans forward so that he can poke him in the shoulder. “I didn’t make you do anything-- in fact you agreed to it! So let me hear it, Gri, or I-I swear I’m gonna… I’m gonna! I’m gonna send those stupid snails back over to you and make them eat your mending book right in front of your eyes!”
He gasps. “You wouldn’t.”
An mhm. A nod. “Ohhh, I would. Don’t you test me now!”
He’s seen enough fish in the short span they’ve been in this season to know that, in his shock, his mouth is opening and closing like one. It takes all his resolve to not run out of the building and leave this stupid place behind. Sure, Scar may try and follow him, but he’s fast-- surely he can outrun him! It… it wouldn’t be too hard! He can do it!
The energy leaves him in one fell swoop as the silence drags on and Scar only seems to get more worried about him. Finally, he looks away.
“I feel alone…” he bites out. It’s like chewing glass.
“Oh?” Scar is interested. That’s him telling him to continue.
The proverbial glass on his tongue and teeth cut up his mouth and bleed the truth out of him. “I have… a particular problem that nobody else on the server can relate to.”
“Is it an avian thing?” He scratches his head. “Y’know, I know that Pearl isn’t exactly an avian herself, but she may be able to help you out. Or-- hey! Jimmy is an avian! We can message him?”
He’s earnest. So earnest. He grits his teeth. “It’s not. An avian thing.”
That makes Scar stop. “Is it… is it a them thing?”
Them. Neither of them need to say their names to know.
“God-- no. No. Thank goodness.” In his stress, he begins to pull at his hair, his wings ruffling. “I just. God. Scar, I can’t believe you don’t know. We’ve spent…” lives together. Lived and died together. Stuck by each other’s sides when no one else would. Hurt each other but mostly just loved each other. “We’ve spent time together.”
“We sure have! I-- I, uh… I don’t know what you’re talking about, though.”
“Have you ever looked at me when I’m shirtless?” He just decides to bite the bullet.
Scar’s jaw drops. His face begins to turn a shade of red he didn’t think was possible. He looks away, fiddling with the brim of his hat. “No, no-- no! No way. Noooo way. Never, G-- never! I would. Never.”
“Why are you so--? Look, nevermind! Scar, I-I’m different from everyone else and it’s not because of them and it’s not because I’m an avian.”
“You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” He’s still not looking at him. Did that really embarrass him so much? That… that means many things that he just does not have the brain to dissect right now.
“I’m not cis.” Is all he can really say.
It’s so silent you can hear a pin drop.
“You’re…” Scar’s finger wobbles as he points at him. His jaw is back to being on the fucking floor.
For a second, Grian thinks he’s just fucked up the entire thing they have going on. Scar is going to leave him. He’s going to hate him and he’s going to tell everyone and it’s going to ruin his life. Poppies and lilacs will mean nothing to them anymore.
But then Scar starts to smile. He wiggles his fingers, bouncing in his seat. “Ooooh, Grian! Grian, I had no idea! What the heck?” His laugh is a little intense considering the information just given. Dread leaks out of his body and is replaced by confusion. Scar is still laughing. “What the heck?! You mean to tell me we could have been bondin’ even more? How-- how the heck did I not notice that?”
“What…?” His voice cracks.
Firmly, Scar points at him. “Hold on, how the heck did you not notice this?!” He points to his own chest.
“Scar, what on Earth are you talking about?”
With little care for much of… anything, really, Scar rips his own shirt open, the buttons flying off and skittering across the floor. He points aggressively at two thick scars underneath his pecs. They pucker at the end, pulling skin taut against his ribs. He’d recognize something like that anywhere.
It’s Grian’s turn for his jaw to drop. “W-What? You… wait-- what? You… I-- Scar, put your shirt back on!”
“The shirt is gone, Grian,” he says with faux seriousness. “You’re just gonna have to deal with this right now.”
He’s trying very hard not to stare at Scar’s chest. He is fighting a losing battle.
“Nevermind that, though-- how the heck did you not notice these scars? They’re gigantic, Grian! Biggest ones I’ve got on my-- my whole… whole area!” He gestures vaguely to his body.
“Your torso?” He sighs. “I don’t know, Scar, I guess I don’t make it a habit to look at your pecs?”
That answer seems to displease him greatly. “Well, I can’t see why not, my pecs are amayzin’.”
You know what… “Sure, Scar. Sure they are.”
He beams at him. “You’re welcome to stare at them anytime, Grian!”
His ears are getting warm. Stupid Scar. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone on here.”
To Scar this seems like a joke. He laughs. When Grian doesn’t laugh too, he stops. Stares at him. Squints at him. “You-- you weren’t ever alone, Grian.”
“I didn’t know that you were also trans!” He argues, feeling his back start to rise.
“No-- no, I mean… jeez, Grian, I don’t think I know a single cis person on this server. In fact, MIster, I thought you were the only one we had-- until now, of course!”
“What.”
“Actually I think Skizzy Wizzy is cis! Or-- or maybe he’s not…” He furrows his brows. “Ah, whatever, point is: you’re surrounded by trans people whether you like it or not, mister!”
“Why would I dislike it?” It still doesn’t feel real to him. If he weren’t sitting down he would have to sit down again. As it stands (or sits, he supposes) he just sinks lower into his chair. “I can’t believe this. I’ve been-- I’ve been stewing for years! Wait-- Mumbo?!”
“Yep!” He pops the ‘p’, grinning wildly. It makes Grian start to laugh. That makes Scar start to laugh. In a very sweet moment that turns very sobering very quickly, Scar takes his hand, squeezes it as if he’s squeezing one of those grip testing machines-- ow! “Now you don’t have to hide it, G. Isn’t that amayzin’?”
The contact makes his head start to spin. “You’re crushing my hand, Scar.”
“Whoops!” He lets go, blushing. “Sorry, sometimes I don’t even know my own strength!”
“Yeah, yeah… anyways, what was that about you definitely not staring at my chest earlier?”
Scar runs out of the building so fast you would swear he had somewhere to be.
Which is good enough for Grian, because that means he doesn’t have to put an ounce of work in today! He puts down his ‘Gone Fishin’ sign, repairs the hole left by Scar, and then leaves the building. He feels lighter than he’s ever felt before.
So it turns out he was wrong. He’s never been so glad to be so wrong.
(read it on ao3 here! <3)
#desert duo#scarian#peskytimes#thats so cute losing my mind#hermitfic#hermitshipping#hello welcome back to my everyone is transsexual propaganda#ask me about my headcanons i am shaking the bars of my enclosure#ALSO share with me ur headcanons#!!!!! looove talking ab shit like this#ok thats all ive got#rosie writing#FORGOT TO PUT A READ MORE ON IT THIS IS A LONG FIX#FIC NOT BFIX
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Yo wish master! Nice shop you got setup here.
Me and some of my friends are looking of animal onesies, y’ know bears, wolfs, those sorts.
Do you have anything like that?
Also, I’m wondering, isn’t there anyway to extend the transformation pass the 1st, let’s say…..permanently perhaps?
The New Pack in Town
Got just the thing for you and your boys. A bear, wolf and otter costumes.
One of your boys slips the wolf costume first,
Once he pulled the hood over his head, the changes begin. He screams out in pain as his body adjusts to his new Wolf look.
The shiny material that now adorned his new body seemed to be fused to him, the beard and nearly bald head was quite the change from his usual frat boy look, but as he stood there his dick twitched excited to see what he'd be playing with when you were all done getting dressed.
Next came the Otter,
He too began to cry out as his body began to morph as well.
Standing there was a damn gorgeous Otter stud amazed at how hot he was now even though it felt weird to have so much hair all over his body. He ran to the big bad wolf as you were the last one to change. A bear costume had you hard as you hoped it too would change you as it had your friends.
You zipped it up but nothing happened at first you were disappointed but soon you felt the magic kick in as in almost an instant the new you appeared before your boys.
Your face now sports a huge hairy beard the rest of you covered in full leather as you find yourself now the alpha of the group, a bear of a man who now wanted nothing but to have as much sexual fun as you could with your new pack. You look at me and smile
I lean over and whisper, put a small tear in the costumes, that makes the changes permanent. You take your leather gloved hand and pull me close. Thank you, Sir. You say as you nd the boys disappear into the night to enjoy your new lives. Another satisfied Customer.
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˚ ✦.·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚ MESSY CAKES | e. munson x fem!reader
w; this is part of my ‘truck driver!dad!eddie’ au - but can be read without reading the au, r IS a afab, pregnancy mentions, r’s pov mostly, this takes place before eddie officially becomes a truck driver
an; this will probably flop but thought it was a cute idea :) i hope you all enjoy.
The sound of drills fill your ears - the plastic between your hands grows wet with the sweat from your palm.
“Eddie, your little lady is here!” Bo, a kind man with tattoos and a full beard who liked to share jokes and advice, calls out over a Guns N’ Roses song you recognized from Eddie. “How are you?” He wipes his hands and face, only smearing the grease further before holding his arms out for a hug.
You smile softly, wrapping your arms around the man before pulling away. Bo never made you feel uncomfortable, always giving you a chance to back out of a hug and opting to just wave instead. “I’m okay. How’s things here?” You glance around at the full garage. You realize Eddie is working on Steve’s car.
“Luckily, we aren’t short handed today like usual. But you probably don’t want to hear about that - boring talk,” He rolls his eyes. You giggle softly watching as he makes his way over towards the desk. “Go ahead and talk to Eddie. It’s almost his break anyway. Just be careful, don’t want you tripping and hurting yourself.”
“You got it.” You salute him, watching as a smile tugs at his mouth and a roll of his eyes as he turns, grabbing a wooden pencil. True to your word, you’re careful while passing over the legs that stick out from under a nice car, or tools lying on the cement ground stained with grease and maybe little spots of blood from injuries.
Eddie has come home with a couple of cuts and bruises.
Your hand meets his back and he lifts quickly, hitting the top of his head against the edge of the propped hood. You hiss as if it hurt you, a hand immediately reaching out and landing on top of his. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You apologize immediately, eyes rounded as you stare at his scrunched up face.
“It’s okay,” He breathes. You frown, eyes looking at his fingers that scrunch up and push slightly at the sore spot. His right eye opens and peeks over at your worried expression. “Really. It’s okay. I was just in my head.”
Your lips stay turned down in a frown as your eyes never leave his fingers. “What about?”
“How junky Steve’s engine is and how I’m gonna balance college, work, and home life.”
Suddenly your hand drops and your heart clenches. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault,” He chuckles softly. His own arm drops by his side and he turns to look at you. “Why do you keep apologizing, sweetheart?” He reaches out and swipes under your eye, wiping the small smudge of mascara away.
“I just…” Feel guilty. “I don’t know.” You look down at his boots, watching as they step closer.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I wanted to go to college to get a better job. Not that I won’t miss this,” He motions around the garage, a small smile lifting at the corner of his lips. “I just don’t want us to struggle… maybe even save up for a house.” His hand grabs yours, messing with your fingers.
You smile at the thought, nodding. “I’d like that,” You whisper softly. “I brought you lunch. Thought I could stay with you.”
His brows lift and stare at the bag you lift up. “What did you bring?”
“I was craving some noodles, so I went to get some hibachi.”
“Steak?”
“And chicken if you’d like some of my chicken.”
“No. You need to eat something other than the noodles and fried rice,” You open your mouth and he’s quick to press his lips against yours. He pulls away. “Don’t deny it. Come on, we can go to my van.” His hand grips yours and he’s pulling you along with him towards the back door. He opens it for you, allowing you to walk out first.
You smile and step outside, feeling his hand meet your back as he leads you towards his van, pulling out his keys. He unlocks your door first, pulling the door open. You thank him and slip inside, separating the food quickly.
Your stomach rumbles and you wait for Eddie to slip into the car as well, opening your plastic fork. The door squeaks open and he slips inside, slamming the door shut - it was an old van, so that was the only way to make sure it shuts.
You finally open the styrofoam lid that kept the noodles warm, immediately digging in. His brows lift as he watches you, a small smile lifting at the corner of his mouth. “Have you eaten anything today?”
“Mmm…” You chew as you think to yourself, eyes lifting to stare at the roof of the car, some of the gray felt that covered it was starting to become unglued. “Yes. Those little french toast squares and eggs and a pop tart - you know. The best poptart.”
He narrows his eyes. “The hot fudge ones are the best.”
“To you. The best is the brown sugar one. Heated up with a glass of milk,” Your eyes gleam. “I think I’m gonna eat another one when I get home. By the way, what time are you coming home?”
“Probably around 8.”
“Okay.”
His brows lift when you don’t elaborate, chewing his steak slowly as he stares at you. “Why?”
You look over at him, mouth greasy from the noodles. “Just wondering,” You shrug. “Might have you a little something.” You smile.
He chuckles softly and reaches over, wiping the grease from the corner of your mouth. “Can’t wait.”
You smile at him and turn back to eating your food.
And true to his word, Eddie was home at 8 at night. He stopped on the rickety porch, finishing his cigarette before stepping into the trailer. Wayne had finally stopped smoking and he didn’t want to bother either one of you with the smell.
When he steps in, it’s dark, all except the kitchen, the glow of orange leading him in. His brows lift as he stares at you, eyes slipping down towards the cake you had decorated the best you could. Suddenly, he’s nervous.
“Uh… Did I miss something?”
You giggle softly and shake your head. “No, silly. Come here.” He lets out a small relieved breath, making his way over and dropping his keys on the table. It’s easy to navigate his way around the kitchen to you, arms winding around your waist as he pulls you closer. He gives you a quick peck, pulling his head away, lifting a brow.
“Is that… a hot fudge pop tart I taste.��
“…No,” You say. He smirks. “But, look at the cake. Do you like it?”
“I love it.” He hums softly, pressing another kiss to your cheek.
“You didn’t even look look at it, Eds. Look!” You turn his head. He lets out a groan, looking at it. He finally notices the writing in red icing.
‘Baby Munson On The Way!’
His eyes leave the cake and he quickly turns to look at you. “What?”
Your smile drops a bit, head tilting. “I… I’m pregnant?” Your heart pounds by the sound of his voice, hands starting to sweat. You’re a bit unsure now about the whole prospect of being pregnant now.
“You… You’re pregnant?” He tilts his head. You nod, teeth pulling at your bottom lip. His eyes drop to your stomach and you instantly wrap your arms around the area. “How far along?”
“A month.”
He smiles a bit, hands landing on your biceps, gripping softly. “You’re… you’re pregnant?” His voice wavers and he lifts his eyes to meet yours. Your smile finally comes back, although small, and you nod.
“Yeah… You want to see the ultrasound?”
“Yes. Yeah.” He nods quickly. You nod and walk past him, reaching into your purse, holding the black and white photo out towards him. He grabs the photo, staring at it. You step up close to him, arms wrapping around him. Your cheek rests against his bicep, the smell of grease and sweat from a long day and faded cologne invading your nose.
“Is that…?” He points to a small looking bean. You giggle softly and nod.
“Mhm… That’s our little bean.”
His finger runs over the photo before placing it down, turning towards you and immediately wraps his arms around your frame. Your lift onto your toes slightly, arms wrapping around his neck. Your hand finds its way into his curls.
His hands slide around towards your stomach as he pulls away, kneeling down. His knees crack and he winces. “Hi, bean,” He whispers. “I can’t wait to meet you.” His lips press to your stomach and you giggle softly.
He lifts back up, pushing the loose strands that cover your cheeks behind your ears, before cupping your cheeks. His thumbs trace under your eye, catching a tear that falls. “Are you happy?” He whispers.
“Unbelievably so,” Your nose nudges his. “What about you? Are you happy?”
He grins. “I think it’s metal.” You giggle softly when he swoops in, pressing kisses all over your face, hands gripping at your sides.
He pulls away and notices the look on your face. “You know… my back is hurting.”
It’s only a slight lie. You’d gotten nervous and switched around the room and living room, which Eddie hadn't noticed just yet, and went on rampant ‘cleaning and moving stuff around’.
“Would my lovely girl like to have a massage?”
“And a head rub.” You nod.
He huffs out a laugh, nodding. “Anything for you. But… can we eat some cake first?”
You laugh softly and press a peck to his lips. “Of course.”
— @stveharringtn 2024
thanks for reading! reblogs, comments, likes, feedback, & requests are encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated.
#cherry writes ✿#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#jospeh quinn x reader
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You get them a cat HC's
Featuring Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy and Kuro!
Warnings: None.
Notes: GN! Reader
A/N: I just needed to get this silly little idea out of my head!
"Oh? Well, I guess another one won't hurt."
Turns out his castle is a refuge for all kinds of animals. He's taking care of injured or abandoned beings of all sort.
Let's be honest, his personality has a lot of a feral cat as well. You find the similarities hilarious, while he still can't see it.
One time you walked in on him petting it - one of the rare occasions you ever saw him smile.
Loves when the cat sits on his lap while he's in his armchair by the fire, sipping on a glass of wine. An adorable image, and his favourite kind of self-care.
It will rub itself against his beard all the time. Who can blame it?
Needs at least one new outfit a week since the cat will always wreck the feather of his hat or scratch his leather clothes.
Talks to it with a way higher voice than usually, and yes, he does babytalk.
-><--><--><--><-
"Great idea! I actually thought about getting a mascot for the crew anyways."
This man is like a Disney Princess. Just gives off a vibe that makes an animal automatically love him.
Is pretty chill about standard annoying cat behavior. This pet will be misbehaving a lot since he just takes everything with a smile. Can't really be mad at all.
It will probably have a standard seat on his shoulder and loves hiding under his cape.
Always buys snacks when he's on land and even shares his meal with it.
Talks about the cat as if it's an actual person, and talks a lot. Literally his new bestie, you're almost jealous.
This animal has seen some shit. He'll definetly not go anywhere without it and do some weird party tricks when drunk.
Would protect it with his life, certainly.
Poor guy is actually a lil' bit allergic, but endures for your and it's sake.
-><--><--><--><-
"...fine. But if it goes anywhere near my stuff I'll throw it overboard!"
Will have a full blown rant about how cats are ungrateful and illoyal little shits.
Isn't actually an animal person in general. Especially cats and dogs are a little too fascinated with his nose for his liking - it looks like a toy, after all.
It follows him around despite his best efforts not to. He gets used to it quickly however and starts talking to it. It helps him get his thoughts in order, actually.
Lets you keep it in the end because this man just can't say no to any of your wishes. Won't admit it though, probably says it's because they're useful to catch mice on the ship or something.
Throws a tantrum at least once a day, especially when the cat got anywhere near his maps.
Unsuccessfully tries to teach it any tricks for them to participate in the circus.
Is often caught juggling for it and acts like the cat just happened to be there while he was practicing.
It's an open secret that he adores this animal. It's also the only one allowed to sit on his throne besides him.
-><--><--><--><-
"...what an astonishing creature, indeed."
It takes everything in this man to not drop the facade.
Wants to keep it so badly but hesistantly talks about hygiene and how the cat's presence may negatively affect Kaya's health.
He's actually the most skilled when it comes to properly train those stubborn creatures.
Anyways, he still will get scratched and hissed at. It breaks his heart.
Indulges it as good as he can. Only the best food, it's own room in the mansion and always new toys.
Always nerds out some biological or historical facts about those animals.
Loves to absentmindedly stroke it's fur whenever it sits on his lap. Looks like a Bond villain when doing so.
#one piece#buggy x reader#shanks x reader#mihawk x reader#kuro x reader#headcanons#writing#self insert#dracule mihawk#buggy d clown#shanks#captain kuro
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𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐌 ; 𝐉. 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑
pairing: hbo!joel miller x fem!reader
summary: You’re used to getting what you want, and this time would be no different. He’s playing your game; he just doesn’t know it yet. ( part 1/? )
warnings: age gap, unprotected sex, roughness. minors DNI
Today was going to be different.
You didn’t know if it was because of the clear night sky on what was meant to be a cloudy night or that your boss finally decided to take a day off from peering over your shoulder. But something had shifted in the bar that night.
But different or not, you had a job to do. And that was flash a smile at the men sitting at the bar so they’d fork over the cash in their overly stuffed wallets. You and Kaitlyn, the bartender, have got a deal. She doesn’t insult and scowl at customers if you steer them clear of her. You liked the fake laughing and batting your eyelashes at them. She liked making drinks. It was a perfect system for the only two girls working the bar.
“You seem extra jolly today,” Kaitlyn comments as you pass her.
And you were. Everything just seemed so easy today. All your regulars came in, making it easy serving for the drinks tonight and even easier sweet-talking for their tips. And most only stayed for one drink, the nice night beckoning them out of the bar and into the streets. Boss probably wouldn’t be happy about that, but not like he’s there to complain.
“It’s a nice night,” you respond to Kaitlyn, a grin on your face. “What’s not to be happy about?”
“Why don’t you ask that guy?”
Said guy was barely stepping inside the door when Kaitlyn pointed him out. He kept his head down, beelining for a spot at the end of the bar. He seemed to know Kaitlyn, sending a head nod her way before plopping himself down on a stool.
It wasn’t until he lifted his head to glance at the football game on the tv that your attention was captured.
“No.” Kaitlyn’s gruff voice interrupted your thoughts, your head whipping toward her. She was shaking her head, brows knitted together in disbelief. “You’ve got that look on your face.”
Now it was your turn to be confused. “What look?”
Kaitlyn huffs. “The look you give those poor fuckers before you eat them alive.” She waves her hand in the general direction of the new patron. “I won’t let you eat that sad man alive.”
You frown. “Who said I wanted to?”
You look back toward him. His arms were crossed now, eyes focused on whatever football team played on the screen. His biceps were on full display now, the t-shirt doing little to nothing to keep them hidden. He lifted a hand to scratch at his beard, that same hand then going up to push his dark hair away from his forehead.
“Okay, maybe I want him,” you confessed to Kaitlyn. “Who is he anyway? I’ve never seen him, but he seems to know you.”
Kaitlyn sighs, turning her focus to an unopened bottle of whiskey. “Isn’t he a little old for you?” You shoot a look at Kaitlyn. “Right. You don’t care about age.” She hands you the freshly poured glass of whiskey. “Good luck cracking that nut.”
“That isn’t the–“
“I know what I said,” Kaitlyn finishes sharply.
With the glass in hand, you approached the man at the end of the bar. You place the glass down in front of him, readying your best charming smile for when he looks to thank you, except he didn't. Without looking away from the tv, he grabs the glass on the bar and throws it down.
"Keep 'em' coming," he mutters, or at least that's what you think he said. His request was quickly followed by a huff of disappointment from whatever happened on screen.
For the first time in your 10 months working this job, you haven't captured the eye of the man you wanted. Typically you didn't have to be the one seeking them out; they sought after you. But on the off chance that you were the one who was seeking, it wasn't really a challenge. All it took was some soft words, eyelash batting, and an all-too-friendly stroke of the hand. Men were putty in your hands.
But in comes this brawny man, smelling of sawdust and cheap cologne, his hair graying at the sides, and somehow he was just...immune to you? You weren't cocky, just aware of yourself. And who you are is someone people are drawn to, someone who doesn't need to ask for the room's attention because you just always have it. You're someone people want--people desire.
Except him.
"What's his name?" You ask Kaitlyn when you return, your eyes not leaving the man at the end of the bar.
Kaitlyn barely glances at you, focused on creating the fruity cocktail a gaggle of already-drunk girls ordered moments ago. "He won't fall for it."
And you took that as a challenge.
You brought him his drinks. You lingered by his end of the bar. You barely acknowledged the numerous other men asking for your attention at the bar. Hell, you even made a noise of excitement when the team he was rooting for scored, even though you don't have a single fucking clue what football was about.
All for him to not even glance your way.
And when the game finally ended, and he stood up to leave, you thought he'd finally look your way. Except he didn't.
"Have a good night, Kait," he mutters, raising his hand for a goodbye as he stalks out of the bar.
And once he's out of the door, Kaitlyn is laughing. It's no little chuckle either; she's gripping the wood of the bar as she doubles over with laughter. Laughter directed at you. Because for the first time since she's known you, you've lost your own game.
"I'm going outside for a smoke," you huff, pushing past her laughing figure.
The cool night air welcomes you as you slump against the brick wall of the bar's back alley. Plucking the cigarette from the pack tucked into your pocket, you place it between your lips just as the sound of a raised voice reaches your ears. Ignoring the voice, you light the cigarette, letting out a sigh of relief as the familiar warmth encompasses you.
"No-No! I said no, damnnit, stop fuckin' asking." He steps into the alley you're in, one hand holding a phone to his ear with the other thrown in the air. "I told you I don't want those guys working with us; what part of that don't you understand?"
And for the first time that night, you were seen by the man who sat at the bar. His eyes locked with yours as you smoked your cigarette before quickly darting away.
"No--Look, Tommy, I gotta go." And his phone is promptly shoved into his pocket. His hand goes up to run through his hair, a gesture you watch with rampant interest despite your defeat.
Then his eyes are locked with yours again, reminding you that he hadn't forgotten your presence. Then he speaks. "Those kill, y'know."
You can't believe it. All the effort of tonight to get this man to speak to you just to get radio silence, but one little cigarette hanging from your lips has got him talking.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you scoff, pushing off the wall to stand straight. His eyebrows raise as you approach him, your unoccupied coming up to poke at his chest. "Now you wanna talk to me?"
His look of confusion only further angers you. You throw the cigarette down to the ground, stomping it out with the heel of your shoe.
"Don't give me that look." His eyebrows raise at your words. "You may be an older man, but you're not clueless. You can't tell me you haven't noticed my advances the whole night."
"Advances?" He questions.
You feel your cheeks heating with frustration. "You think I give all men the treatment I gave you?" When he doesn't respond, you continue. "I was at your beck and call. I pretended to give a shit about football. I even pulled my top down a little to give you an extra eyeful just for you to not even take a glance!"
You could feel the burn of his eyes darting down to your chest, but that didn't stop you. "You think I did all that because I wanted to be a good bartender for you? I made it so obvious I wanted to fuck you!"
And there it was.
As soon as the words left your lips, you knew there was no going back. There were only two ways this could go. Either he'd laugh in your face for daring to be bold enough when he's so clearly already rejected you, or he really is a clueless man who needed to have it spelled out for him.
Judging by the amusement in his eyes, you were beginning to lean toward the first one.
Then he chuckles, those amused eyes trailing down the length of your body and slowly trailing back up. "Relax. I noticed your efforts."
Still, you glared up at him. "Oh yeah?"
"It's like you said, I'm an older man, but I'm not clueless." His large hand comes up to tuck some of your hair behind your shoulder. "But I've gotta wonder why a girl like you wants to fuck someone like me?"
"Don't think you could handle me, old man?"
The sting of your back slamming against the brick wall was barely registered; the breath knocked out of you as his hard body pressed to yours. His hands cradled your head, angling it upward to look him in his eyes. Your lips curled up into a smile, the anticipation of what was coming next exciting you.
A shiver runs down your spine as his left-hand slides down, resting on your neck. His thumb presses against your pulse, feeling the rapid thumps of your heart. His gaze is heated, eyes darting between yours in search of any signs of hesitation.
“Joel,” he introduces himself, hand knotting itself in your hair. “Remember that name, princess.”
Your next words died on your tongue as they were smothered by Joel’s lips. Arms looped around his neck, and you pushed yourself up to your toes to keep your body pressed against his. His tongue delves into your mouth, swallowing your moans before they can reach the surface.
The hand knotted in your hair gives a harsh pull, your lips detaching with a gasp. Joel gives you no time to recover, his lips trailing down the length of your neck before settling on your shoulder. His hands tuck themselves beneath the straps of your top, shoving them down until your breasts spill out.
The breeze that passes through the alley makes you all too aware of your setting. Sure, the two of you are tucked into a dark corner, but anyone could pass and see you if they look hard enough.
Joel’s deep chuckle tore you out of your thoughts, and you gasped at the feel of his cold hands cupping your breasts. “Thought you wanted to show them off,” he teases. “Don’t go shy on me now.”
Every part of you is buzzing as Joel’s head drops to your chest, lathering your exposed breasts with open-mouthed kisses. Small whines escape you as his hands roam down the length of your body until he can grope at the flesh of your ass.
And you can’t help but thank whatever being is in the sky for your decision to wear a skirt today because it gives Joel easy access to where you need him most. A high-pitched whine leaves your lips as his knee slots between your legs, the rough feel of his denim pants against your most sensitive area feeling like heaven.
“Keep quiet, princess,” he breathes into your ear, his hands guiding your hips to grind against his leg. “Don’t want everyone knowin’ what a slut you are, right?”
You cry out when he steps away from you, but he isn’t gone long, those hands that grip your hips leading you to turn around. Your hands slam against the brick wall, cheek pressing to the cold surface as Joel kicks your legs apart.
“What a pretty sight this is,” Joel mumbles as he shoves your skirt up, revealing your racy panties, and the wet spot that had formed there. “All this just for me?”
“All for you, Joel,” you say breathily. You glance over your shoulder at him, giving your hips a little shake when you see his eyes are locked on your ass. Joel’s eyes snap up to yours, then a smirk on his lips as he releases you to work on his pants.
You lurch forward with a moan as he plunges forward, his cock filling you all at once. Joel’s fingers are digging into your hips, leaving marks that are sure to remind you of this night for days to come. Just the thought of remnants of him on your skin has you clenching around his shaft, causing Joel to let out a grown of his own.
A hybrid of a cry and a moan fall from your lips as Joel rears his hips back before quickly slamming forward, his balls nestled against your clit. The sounds that escape you with each thrust of his hips are obscene, the wet squelch of your connected bodies sure to draw the attention of any passerby.
“Now, who can’t handle who, princess?” His hand cracks down on your ass with a harsh smack, the sharp pain sending waves of pleasure through you. “Should have fucked you in the bar like you wanted. Let all your little lapdogs see you bent over like a whore for me.”
You moan out loudly, no longer caring if anybody hears the two of you.
“Now cum on my cock,” he grunts, hips stuttering. “Cum on my cock, princess.”
His hands are guiding your hips back into him, his balls slapping your ass with each thrust. You could feel the familiar swell of heat consuming you, your walls tightening around him as you grew closer to your orgasm. Joel’s hand leaves your hip to come up to your face, his hand slamming over your mouth to muffle the increasingly loud moans that leave your lips.
Then it hits you. You cry into Joel’s hand as euphoria washes over your body, all the while his cock continues to piston in and out of you. You’re weeping into his hand as he chases his high, his hips slamming into yours with renewed fervor.
Joel quickly pulls out of you just as something warm splatters on your lower back. “Fuck,” he groans loudly, the hand on your mouth falling limp at his side.
A silence settles between the two of you as you fight to catch your breath while Joel tucks himself back into his jeans.
But once you do, you find yourself smiling. “I think we kept up just fine,” you begin, and Joel glances your way. “Maybe we should try this again.”
#°•. ro writes#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut
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