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pedgito · 5 months

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𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Chivalry, Secrets & Hot Tubs (Week One)

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

quick note: i love all the reblogs/feedback and that you're all enjoying this as much as i am <3 and a huge thank you to @swiftispunk for being the best and looking over the first chapter for me, i am completely scatter-brained and forgot to mention this when i posted last monday, so tysm han and pls go check her out if you haven't! & follow my fic update blog (@pedgitos) and turn on post notifications so you don't miss any updates/posted fics!

Chapter Summary: Settling in is easier than you expect, but it does come with a fair share of challenges. A week filled with getting to know one another and some moments shared, your week doesn't end on the best note, leaving you with a choice.

Chapter Warnings: (8k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, domestic shenanigans, Joel being naturally assertive, cooking dinner together, reading is good at encouraging Joel, one hot tub & two stubborn individuals, also...one bed trope incoming

You wake up refreshed, like you’ve been born with a new reverence for life—alright, it might be a bit of an overstatement but it’s a wonder what a decent night of sleep could do and you’re feeling that this idea, playing house with a stranger—though it wasn’t much like that anymore—wasn’t the worst choice. And it reminds you of Joel, having left him in the chair last night, not wanting to burden him but you can only imagine the ache in his bones, his back, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair all night.

You lay for a moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The morning sunshine wasn’t strong here, blanketed out by a stark white snow that covered the ground, it muted out most colors and left a cool, but bright blue that shined through the window above your bed.

It was peaceful. No cars, no buzz of strong electricity outside your window, people and their idle conversation a few floors down from your apartment window. Not even a bird, really. But, there’s a distinct clearing of a throat from the living room that has you stirring in bed, rising lazily as you move with the same enthusiasm.

It was a fresh week. The first official week of your vacation and you were going to start it off on a good note, clambering out of the bed and slipping on a pair of fluffy slippers to keep your toes from freezing off, not bothering to glance in a mirror on the way out—not that you needed to, it didn’t matter. It was early, you were still trying to shed the sleep from your body and you could care less. Plus, it wasn’t like an old t-shirt and sleep shorts was some foreign concept.

When you peek around the corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, you can spot Joel’s head tilting to one side, hand kneading at the taut muscle in the center of his back where his neck starts to begin and then you’re stuck watching as he stretches his arms out wide, working out all of those muscles. Every single one. And you’ve been silent for far too long.

Yeah.

Clearing your throat softly, you approach from behind and keep your distance, announcing your presence like you hadn’t been lingering for a minute or two already.

“Morning,” You greet politely, resting your weight against the edge of the island, taking in full view of a freshly awoken Joel, eyes still puffy from sleep.

He looks very…gentle. Surprisingly, so. It softens his rigid demeanor significantly and you have to silently talk yourself out of glaring at him for too long, “I didn’t want to wake you—I’m so sorry.”

Jeez—you two are getting good at that. Apologizing, afraid to step on each other’s toes.

“Not your fault,” Joel massages his bicep with the heavy pressure of his thumb, looking slightly pained as he rolls his shoulders, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Yeah, but I forced you to stay up, so—”

“You didn’t,” Joel quickly shuts you down, “I’m a grown man,” there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there, but Joel continues, “don’t blame yourself for my own irresponsibility.”

It’s too early for this. You force on a fake smile, void of any real emotion at this hour, running on fumes and the smell of coffee. Speaking of—you sniff, eyes searching for the smell like a dog would track a scent, and Joel is already pointing in the direction you should be looking for when your eyes land on him.

“I already finished it off on my own,” Joel admits, pointedly taking another long sip before resting the mug back on the counter, “I can get another pot goin’ if you need it.”

There’s an inclination to let him, seeing him assert himself so easily and offer, but you shake your head, “I think I can handle a coffee maker,” You assure him, meandering around the kitchen in search of the coffee grounds, ignoring Joel’s tracking of your movements, waiting for a moment to interject and point you in the right direction. You spot them a moment before the urge comes with a soft aha!

“I needed to make a drive into town,” Joel tells you after you’ve gone through the steps of starting your own batch of coffee, “pick up some more food, figured you might wanna tag along.”

He’s not asking, only assuming. But to be fair, his assumption is right.

“Sure,” You reply cooly, pouring yourself a hefty cup of coffee to sip on, letting your body take hold of the caffeine, “...how far away is the closest town?”

“Hour and a half.” Joel answers and you almost have the nerve to go wide-eyed on him, but then you remember just how deep into the woods you both were and that it was necessary.

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?”

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

“I’m leavin’ in thirty,” Joel ignores you, “don’t think I won’t hesitate to leave you here.”

Okay, noted: Joel wasn’t much the morning person you assumed he was.

Joel immediately realizes how little disregard you have for touching things that aren’t yours when you reach for the makeshift box of cassettes tapes placed in the backseat of his truck—the thing was old, riding on it’s last leg, but it was something Joel would cherish until it was unsalvageable, torn seats, dents, and all.

“Ain’t gonna find anything you like in there,” Joel assures you, “None of that pop stuff they’re always playin’ on the radio these days.”

The tables turn on him suddenly, seeing your face contort into a similar emotion that he gave you earlier. Bewilderment, shock, annoyance. You scoff at the comment.

“Says you,” You retort back, sifting through the different cassettes until you find Joel trading glances between you and the road in front of him, almost worried you might chuck his collection out of the passenger side window, “Joel, eyes on the road.”

Joel enjoys a lot of country, which isn’t a total disbelief. But, it wasn’t something you shared the sentiment on, flicking away a handful of country artists you’ve never listened to and reaching some of the good stuff—older rock music, some classic 80s, and late 90s.

You pluck one out carefully, prying open the cassette case with gentle hands before sliding the tape in, allowing the low hum of the music to fill the car. There’s a brief moment of respite before Joel smirks to himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“What were you saying?” You look at him pointedly, shifting slightly in your seat.

Joel looks away briefly, biting back a chuckle, “Fine—I’ll give you some credit. Foo Fighters aren’t terrible, but you skipped right over Bruce Springsteen, so…”

You scoff in disbelief, “You don’t get to criticize me with that atrocious collection of country music,” You stare down at the box in thought, eyes brimming with a mischievous that Joel knows of immediately, he’s seen it before. Not with you, but he knows, “you know, maybe I should just do you a favor and—”

You can barely get a hand on the window roller before Joel’s hand is gripped tight over the box, trapping your other hand in his grip as he warns, “I’m not above leavin’ you stranded in the cold.”

Your grin is nothing but evil and Joel finds that there’s something about you that infuriates him in a way that is hard to describe, not in anger or rage, but a level that he thinks he could match. A game of back and forth that he could play into—but you’re quickly relenting regardless of the threat and placing the box on the floorboard.

“Already tried that,” You retort, “didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Fair is fair. Joel doesn’t poke the beast.

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

“So, what exactly was your plan?” Joel asks curiously. “You comin’ out here with no car and all?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Didn’t really have one, but I would have figured it out.”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, subtly resembling a face of disapproval.

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me, okay?” You don’t wait for a response, “You can have whatever assumptions you want about me, but don’t try and act like you know anything about me.”

It was another reminder. Joel didn’t know you, but you didn’t know him either. You reign your frustration in slightly, quick to defend yourself but aware that not everyone handles confrontation in the same way—if Joel was quick to anger, you didn’t want to stoke the fire.

“I’m not,” Joel argues, his voice calmer than you expect, thinking back to the saddled rage his voice held the night you arrived, the threat that lingered with every word, “I’m not, alright?”

“Then stop that.” You comment, waving your hand in a vague motion toward his face, “Stop looking at me like—”

“Like what?” Joel interjects, eyes more pensive as he looks over at you.

“Like—like I need a fucking lecture on life or my choices,” You tell him, a hint of pleading in your voice, “I’m not some kid who doesn’t understand how life works.”

“You’re not a kid—”

“Good, great that we established that,” You lean back in the seat more comfortably, arms crossed over your chest as you keep your eyes on the snow covered road, “now shut up so I can enjoy the music.”

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

Conversation falls flat until you arrive at the store in town a while later, Joel fetching a cart and pushing it your way before he stops you suddenly, hand over your own again—a touch that normally you would flinch away from, but he’s already done it once before and the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

“I’ll catch up,” Joel tells you, “I forgot somethin’ in the car.”

You glance back briefly, knowing that the walk isn’t that far.

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

Joel doesn’t say so much, but the look in his eyes goes a long way. A silent plea for you to go with it and don’t ask questions—again, you didn’t have any right to. You nod quickly and wander off toward the store as Joel trails away.

It’s then when your phone starts to vibrate away in your pocket, the sudden availability of service sending a barrage of notifications your way—you’re terrified to take a glimpse, but you do anyway. It should be no surprise to bear witness to the many, many texts from your mother wondering where you’d run off to, but there’s a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

You send her a quick, dismissive text to explain that you were fine and enjoying your time, but no elaboration on the things she wanted to know, because really, there was nothing to tell. And if you did decide to expel the details of your trip, mentioning that there was no boyfriend and it was just a stranger you met in the middle of the woods, well…that wouldn’t go over smoothly.

You also find a quick, heated moment of frustration to send an unpleasant text to the owners of the cabin, still polite enough that it wouldn’t warrant your ability to work things out—and you decide that calling would reach them faster, that somehow they’d magically find a way to appear and fix things, but there’s no answer. Only a voicemail that gave vague details about being away on their own vacation.

Just your luck.

Great. You sigh deeply, shoving the phone away into your pocket and returning to the land of obliviousness as you step inside the small market.

You fend for yourself for a while, throwing several random necessities in the cart as you go, enough sustenance to spread over four weeks and manage meals the entire trip, also a few more bottles of alcohol don’t hurt, looking for a few hard liquors that catch your eye and adding them to the growing supply of items.

You’re lost in concentration of the ingredients on the back of a box dinner when Joel’s voice startles you back to the real world, eyes jumping up to look at him and he spots the panic immediately.

He nods slightly when you recognize him, “Sorry, keep forgettin’ how jumpy you are.”

“You’re just ridiculously fucking quiet,” You tell him, breathing out a long sigh as you toss the box into the cart, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Joel assures, doesn’t elaborate. Okay, cool. You weren’t going to pry, no matter how much your instincts told you to. He scans the cart casually, “Mind tradin’ off?”

You lend him the lead and follow, watching as he pointedly finds things, like he’s reading off a list in his head and moves around the store with a purpose. It’s only slightly annoying that you have to keep pace with him, but he’s suddenly speaking out to you as he’s glancing over something on the bottom shelf, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” You responded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why?”

“Grab some of that fresh rosemary,” Joel says, pointing out somewhere behind you and you whip around, eyes searching furiously and coming up empty, “—find it?”

You’re a little dumbfounded as you search the shelf of fresh herbs, Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching behind you as he reaches over your shoulder and plucks the exact thing he’s looking for with ease, “Hey, I had the right idea.” You defend, noticing how amused he looked at your befuddlement, “And you didn’t answer my question, either.”

“Well,” He tosses the small, plastic package in the cart, still tucked up at your side and you can feel his body heat, the solid wall of his chest against your shoulder, “don’t like the idea of accidentally killin’ you if I cook something you’re allergic to.”

“Well, what if I’m lying?” You challenge and Joel shoves you aside gently to grab the cart, hands on your shoulder as he shifts you away—and when had things gotten so…touchy?

Truthfully, Joel finds it easier than telling you, noting how quickly you quiet down when he asserts himself and does rather than asks. He knows if it made you uncomfortable you wouldn’t have had a problem speaking up immediately.

“Look at me,” And there’s a deep timbre to his voice that has your chest sparking like a fire, eyes connecting with Joel’s for longer than you’ve ever allowed and it’s like he sees right through you, but he’s searching for something, “—you’re not lyin’.”

“But, if I was?”

Joel nearly leaves you in the dust, but turns to look at you with a subtle grin.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

The ride back is easier, much easier—and Joel doesn’t fault you when you fall asleep halfway through, the heat of the car and the low hum of the music like a perfect mix as you curl in on yourself. Joel wakes you with a gentle hand on your shoulder when you finally make it back, allowing you a moment to shake the grogginess away with a word over his shoulder as he opens his door.

“Careful over that patch of ice on your side,” Joel instructs, “gettin’ colder so it’s slicker than it was a couple days ago.”

Careful. You roll your eyes carelessly, nudging the door open with your shoulder and hopping out, boots hitting the hard ground—your first mistake was underestimating the slickness and Joel’s warning, because the moment you take your first step it’s all downhill. Literally.

Luckily though, like a moment of divine faith as you pray that you don’t hit the ground, Joel is right at your back, arms slipping under your own as he plants his feet firmly and catches you. One arm crossing somewhere over your midsection and the other wrapping around your shoulder, a large palm holding you steady as he helps you back to your feet. You can feel him on the brink of making a comment, eyes looking down tenderly into your own—

“Don’t ask.” You warn him bitterly, face scrunched up like a kicked puppy, shrugging him off lazily. Joel doesn’t argue, making sure you’re steady before he allows you himself to fully let go.

Joel shakes his head subtly, a nuisance of his, and rounds the back of the truck to reach for the bagged groceries, “Fine, I’ll just say I told you so then. How’s that?”

Worse.

Joel never asks for help, doesn’t even seem bothered when you stand there aimlessly, watching him stow away the groceries like he already had a game plan and you feel slightly useless, but it does give you a good opportunity to watch without any explicit reason or excuse.

There’s an obvious purpose to Joel’s movement, clear that he’s used to doing a lot of heavy lifting and keeping up, probably prefers organization over clutter, and has a certain inclination to do things himself, always. And you can’t help the way your gaze clings to his face, noticing something a little off—not good or bad, just slightly different. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but with the extended amount of time your eyes lingered on him, you realize he’s cleaned up a bit, shaved his beard down to near stubble, a subtle difference…but you notice.

You’re not sure how long you’re stuck in this state, arms resting against the counter as you stood there, practically useless, thinking about what Joel looks like on a regular basis, when he isn’t cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter. You want to see that side of him, crave it. It’s an insane thought that doesn’t make sense, eyes widening suddenly at the realization of the thought you’re having—

“You still with me?” Joel’s voice calls out in the haze, muffled slightly as you come back into focus, eyes landing on him. “Think I lost you there for a minute.”

“Oh—no. I mean, yeah. I’m still a little tired, I guess.” It’s a bold face lie, but Joel seems to believe you. “Why?”

“I was sayin’ I need to go chop up some wood for the fireplace,” He explains again, “then you went all wide eyed…”

“Oh, okay,” You nod jerkily, “...do you need help?”

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel suggests, “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen.

You try—you do, but the splitting of wood, the strong crack of the axe catching the wood outside of your bedroom window, it isn’t exactly soothing to the ears. So, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen, peeking between the curtains with a wild curiosity that reminds you of when you were younger and trying to catch a peek of the cute boy next door, a bashfulness replaced with a deep, insatiable hunger that you didn’t know existed until this moment.

Joel was attractive, you could easily admit that. But, seeing him now, it’s a done deal. There was a deep pit of despair in your mind and you were stuck at the bottom with no way out.

It’s almost abysmal how easy he makes it look, the axe he’d brandish as his weapon of choice against you swung over his shoulders, the unfortunate lack of skin stretching over taut muscles as he went through the motions, covered up by thick layers. But, you get the idea.

There’s a slight pout forming on your face before you catch yourself.

He slices full power through the wood like it was eager to give way to him. You also find that his face tugs up in a scowl after every swing of the axe, a soft sigh of exerted energy as he tosses the logs to the side and starts up again. You could watch for hours. But, you settle for the few more minutes he spends collecting the wood before you’re scrambling back into your bedroom like you had been there the entire time.

Unfortunately, Joel isn’t oblivious. Still, he spares you the embarrassment.

There was no reason for him to entertain whatever he thought might be going on. He couldn’t.

The next few days are uneventful, though that was to be expected. It allows you time to really settle in, usually curled up on the couch watching the fire crackle away until you thought your eyes might melt away, or reading a book that Joel always seemed to be trying to catch a peek at. There was an innocent curiosity there that you could appreciate.

You also learned that Joel only took his coffee one way, offering up your services to refill his cup while you refilled your own, sugar lingering over the rim and he’s quickly pushing away the small container of crystalized goodness.

“Joel, come on–” You grimace but relent, placing the cylinder of sugar on the counter.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Is all he offers, almost challenging you to take a sip.

You accept, obviously. But, it isn’t without consequence.

The moment the bitterness hits your tongue you’re scrambling away, forcing the mug into Joel’s waiting hands and spitting out whatever putrid liquid remained in your mouth in the sink.

It’s the first time Joel actually laughs, a full on chuckle that isn’t very receptive on your end.

Joel apologizes with dinner that night, a gesture that wasn’t expected or needed, still you’re thankful nonetheless. But, it offers you the realization of just how good a cook Joel can be.

Steaks grilled to a perfection that only came with repetitive practice and learned techniques, vegetables sautéed and seasoned to an enjoyable level, and a side of pasta that if Joel told you he made from scratch, you would’ve believed wholeheartedly if you hadn’t seen him dump the entire box of pre-made pasta into a pot of boiling water.

You’re halfway through dinner, chewing thoughtfully on a bite when you finally break the long, but comfortable silence that had blanketed over you both.

“So, Joel,” There’s a tone to his name that catches his attention, eyes flicking up to meet yours mid-bite, “what do you do for work?”

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

There’s a scrunch to Joel’s nose before he speaks, almost as if he considered feeding you a lie alongside the beautiful meal he’d made. He settles for a simple answer.

“Uh, carpentry.” Joel tells you after a long pause, “I—build stuff for people, businesses sometimes.”

That explains some of his sturdiness, his practiced strength that came from, probably, years of hard constructive work and building. It also explains why he’s also working away at his hands, rubbing out the stiff joints and knuckles.

“I know what carpentry is, Joel.” You deadpan, but there’s a playfulness lingering in your voice.

You assume he’s used to explaining himself often, which is why he forces it on you so easily.

“And you?” Joel asks suddenly, “College? You’re about that age, right?”

You snort softly at the tone he offers, slightly patronizing, but all in good fun.

“I’m taking a semester off,” You answer indifferently, remembering how disappointed your parents had been about the ordeal, but you were suffocating, “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel assures, “can’t fault you either. Never went to college so I don’t have an opinion on it.”

There’s no judgment on your end, but for the sake of conversation, you bite.

“Any reason?” You ask curiously, wondering if you'd receive the similar sentiment that it’s all just bullshit.

“Didn’t have the money,” Joel answers simply, “didn’t have the grades, either. I thought I could start my own business out of carpentry, but…”

But…you lean into the table slightly, hanging on his words.

“You need a lot of money for that,” Joel finishes, “and, I mean, I’m livin’ comfortable now, but that idea took a lot of money that I didn’t and still don’t have.”

“So, you waste it on month long vacations in the middle of the woods,” You surmise humorously, nodding in approval, “can’t say I blame you, either.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, chewing around a bite as he speaks, “Your turn.”

Right. An eye for eye. A question for a question. He's watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give a response to the same question you asked him.

“Oh—I work out of this bookstore in downtown Austin.” You admit, finishing up the last few bites of your food, scraping the plate nearly clean. “It pays the bills and then some. I like it.”

There’s no compliment needed for the food, all the evidence of it gone. But, you feel the need to appreciate it anyways.

“Thanks for this, Joel.” You speak again, softer this time.

“It’s no big deal, darlin’.” Joel assures you, holding up his hands in a feeble defense at the compliment, clearly something he doesn’t welcome easily. “Just food.”

“It’s been...months,” You tell him, “since I’ve had any type of home-cooked meal. Take the damn thank you, Joel.”

He smirks at that, seeing the threatening fork raise before you utter those final words.

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

You force Joel to stay seated while you clean, knowing it was the least you could do after he spent so much time preparing and cooking dinner. There’s a solid few minutes of arguing before you have to physically shove Joel back into his chair despite his protests, hands pressed into his shoulders as you threateningly speak down to him.

“If you move, I’m locking your ass out in the cold.”

Joel wouldn’t mind, but you’re silently hoping that he’ll just listen.

After all is done, tossing the damp washcloth to the side, you sigh with a newfound relaxation.

There’s only one thing that might top off this night, making it almost the first perfect day here.

“That’s it, I’m getting in the hot tub,” You decide, squeezing tenderly at the tense muscles of your neck, thankful that the owners had a small alcove connected to the cabin that allowed for you to enjoy the hot tub from the safety of the cold, “join me?”

You’re not sure what inclines you to ask so openly, but you don’t second guess it.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Joel starts, “I don’t think I brought the proper…attire.”

He’s still seated where you had him planted and it makes you laugh softly at the idea that he was taking it seriously, which—yeah, you did threaten the possibility of hypothermia on him.

“Fine,” You relent, rounding the corner of the island closest to him as you quickly call out over your shoulder, “but, there’s still a couple of chairs in there if you need the company.”

He didn’t need just anyone’s either and didn’t need, so much as wanted.

He wanted your company.

A while later, you’re already waist deep in the hot tub, figure hugging white bikini tied back securely, arms resting against the side furthest from the door as you press your chin against your forearms and staring out the wall of vast windows that line the room, allowing a view of the snow storm outside, coming down in a flurry that seemed to only be gaining in strength—and Joel, well, he’s still sitting in that stupid chair.

He’s allowed himself too much time in his own head, thinking over the events of the past few days. His call to Sarah was pleasant, a much needed moment of peace when he hears his daughter’s bright, hyper voice on the other end. When he doesn’t have her for the holidays, it’s hard. The calls are sparse, the communication is clipped, and it feels like he’s being forced away from her, knowing that she’s growing older every day. That he is growing older.

He’s allowed a lot of his life to slip away, when he wasn’t working to pay bills and put food on the table he was usually drinking, bar-hopping with Tommy at his old age to hide the pain he felt everyday, mentally and physically. There’s a problem brewing under his skin, using the company of his brother and alcohol to cope with loss he feels so viscerally everyday. The life he could’ve had.

He feels pitiful, miserable—only took this damn trip to get out of town by the suggestion of Tommy, away from all distractions, hoping for a refresh to clear his head. But instead, he met you.

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

Joel’s never processed emotions well, feelings or anything thereof.

But, here he was, lusting after you.

He knows it’s the excitement, the taboo idea around sharing something special with a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about you, someone who doesn’t have the leverage to judge. Someone who doesn’t have to know about all the wrongs he’s committed and bad choices he’s made.

You’re not privy to the fucked up version of Joel that belongs in his hometown, cooped up in his childhood home that he inherited from his parents, filled with too many now painful memories that he’d made with Sarah when she was younger—when he still had her.

He can’t help the way his mind races every single second of the day, constantly worrying, always trying to busy himself with something, anything to keep that lingering cloud of anxiety away. But, when he thinks about you, even something so mundane as the way you squint to get a closer look at a paragraph of the book you’ve probably read a thousand times, his mind goes quiet.

Because, frankly, he’s fascinated by the idea of you. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t actually real. He’s halfway leaning toward the idea that he’s had a full mental break and this is all an illusion he’s cooked up in his head, but then he reminds himself that you are just as full a human as himself. There is a reason for this, even if there had to be some other force at play.

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

And that’s why he decides to follow you, the moment he catches a glimpse of you as you turn the corner to take the steps down into the room that connected to the kitchen, a full glimpse of skin and body that he’s tried to keep his mind off of, despite how openly you stare at him.

There has to be something there. He can’t have imagined all of this.

You feel his presence when the creak of wood gives him away, one hand shoved into his front pocket and his other arm helping him stay upright as he leaned against the doorframe. The steam billows and settles like a cloud over the bubbling hot tub but does nothing to hide how see-through your bathing top is and the slick slope of your breasts, his eyes trailing down toward the small bow that was sewn to the midpoint of your top and know he’s staring at your chest, very openly—Joel’s immediately regretting his choice.

Your eyes follow his but you dare not speak, afraid to startle him.

Now who was the jumpy one?

“Change your mind?” You ask curiously, shimming the expanse of the hot tub as you grab onto the opposite ledge, resuming your previous position, closer to Joel now. If you reached out you could touch the edge of his flannel and soak the trim, maybe even pull him closer, but you resist the urge. “It feels amazing. I’m serious.”

It wasn’t a ploy to get him in, but it wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t respond, eyes staring at the soft wave of the water as it hits your side, his posture rigid.

Maybe you’d broken him.

“Joel,” You call out with a soft nudge to his thigh, as far as you could reach with your fingertips, cutting into his line of sight, offering a friendly smile, “just strip down to your underwear and get in.”

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake.

“You wouldn’t have come over here if you weren’t at least thinking about enjoying the benefits of the hot tub,” You argue, “so stop being grumpy and strip. I won’t even look.”

It shouldn’t sound as gritty as it does, a playful venom in your tone as you sink back slightly.

It makes Joel feel like he’s back in high school, flirting with who would eventually be his ex-wife and mother of his daughter, but there’s an assertiveness that intrigues Joel, your willingness to put yourself out there without fear. Take a leap, a jump, and hope that someone will catch you.

Joel caught you, he just needed someone to catch him.

You spot his fidgeting, the wheels and cogs in his mind turning and he just needs that shove.

Just enough.

You rise over the edge, palms pressed flat to bear your weight and squeeze your breasts together, belly button nearly level with the water as you’re close enough to see the fine details of his face, giving him a look that Joel couldn’t deny.

“Get. In.” You stress the words, making direct eye contact. “You can thank me later.”

Finally, he moves.

You sink back slightly into the pool and wade the water until you hit a corner, watching briefly as Joel works away at the buttons on his flannel, quiet air filling with an unspoken tension. You try to busy yourself with the view outside, something that didn’t require you to look in the vicinity of Joel for a second, knowing that the moment felt more intimate than it needed to. But, it doesn’t stop that sparse glances over your shoulder to check on him, now barefoot and pulling his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pulling and obscuring your view of his face and his view of you, staring so starkly at him in that moment.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. The freckles that speckle his shoulders, nearly invisible from this distance because of his tanned shoulders and the unevenness of the tan as it continues down his arm, varying in shades of intensity, undoubtedly from hours of working in the sun. There’s also a smaller patch of hair on his chest that with his short cropped beard, seems to be trimmed down too. His strong build doesn’t throw you off, though—solid muscle that flexed across his stomach as he yanked his shirt a little harder to get it over his head fully, not built in a way that rippled down his abdomen, but showed a sturdiness to his figure that had your body humming to a tune that reached down to your core, thighs squeezing together under the water.

Joel passes the shirt off into a waiting arm chair, clothes slowly piling on the cushion alongside your towel and he pops the button on his jeans, still unaware of your…innocent observation. But, the moment the jeans stretch over his thighs you swallow a little too hard and you’re immediately averting your eyes when he looks up briefly.

Like you’d been caught.

Joel clears his throat like a warning, as if he hadn’t felt your eyes on him the entire time, and swings a leg over carefully, a view of the black briefs that molded to his skin perfectly and hugged his backside in a way that feels criminally illegal…and you’re staring again.

He hisses at the sudden change in temperate, but inch by inch he lowers and adjusts, eventually huffing out a low groan, eyes closed, when he finally settles on the seat inside of the tub.

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

“See?” You break the revered silence for him, “Worth it?”

“Almost forgot how you just bullied me in here.” He jokes—full on fuckin’ jokes before cracking an eye open to catch your reaction, a subtle look of disbelief on your face. “I’m kidding, darlin'.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the seat under the water and you smile, a half-hearted roll of your eyes thrown his way before you relax too, for a moment.

“This is so weird,” You speak softly, after a while, and Joel looks slightly puzzled as he opens his eyes fully now, perking up slightly as he adjusts himself, chest rising over the water slightly, his arms hanging over the ledge with his fingers gripping the ceramic—and you’re gaze is drifting again, mostly to his hands, but you mask it as you look away briefly, down the hall or out the window. Literally anywhere but Joel, “it’s just—not how I expected things to go.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Joel replies with an underlying amusement.

As the quiet settles, slowly drifting closer to one side, where you originally were when Joel came searching for you—voluntarily, he lingered and waited, waited for the push you gave him—Joel joined alongside you, burrowing himself in the closet corner nook and enjoying the view in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel comments, “everything alright?”

Everything was fine and you couldn’t make complete sense out of it. The ability to be so inherently comfortable with someone you’ve only known for a little under a week, the attraction you felt despite your own rational thinking telling you otherwise, the urge to connect openly and without fear of judgment. It terrifies you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask quietly, “Like…a real question, not those superficial ones that we’ve thrown at each other.”

Joel doesn’t like the sound of it, but there’s also the inclination that he could feed you a total lie and you wouldn’t have any idea otherwise.

He nods, fist resting against his cheek as he turns to look at you and suddenly the pressure is on, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden, full attention.

“Earlier…you said you forgot somethin’ in the car,” Joel’s fist clenches unknowingly under the water, an instinct to bury his reaction, “I know it isn’t my business, but I was just curious what is was.”

Joel, against every fiber in his being that tells him to deflect, gives you a straight answer. It’s almost startling how easily it comes out, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest that he’s carried for years.

“I had to make a call,” Joel admits, “to uh—my daughter, she’s back home with her mom.”

Your brow pulls together in confusion, “Wait, are you married?”

Joel somehow amidst the heaviness of admitting his truth still laughs, quick to defend himself from your next question.

“Oh, not at all. Never, actually.” Joel responds, “We…I never married her mom, it was obvious pretty quickly we weren’t going to work well together.”

The answer is simpler than you expect, different too. Part of you wondered if he was pleading his own case to the owners and was just as unsuccessful as you, but this is much more vulnerable.

And despite your ability to lie, and his own, neither of you can force it.

You don’t pry further, feeling like it may push things too far. Too personal.

“Okay, your turn.”

“Do I scare you?” Joel asks suddenly, almost like he’s been anticipating the moment too.

You’re almost sure the expression you return makes you look insane, feeling the implication that he might, that he thinks—it’s so far left field that it throws you off.

“No—no,” You quickly reject any lingering doubt he has, “I mean…the first night, maybe. But, now…no.”

“Oh.” It’s all Joel can muster, unsure of why he was expecting a different answer. That you would say yes and whatever shroud of thought he had about this moment you were sharing was only out of fear, that you were just trying to be polite.

“Look, I get jumpy because you sneak up on me,” You answer, “and you have this…presence about you,” Okay, not the best wording, “not scary or anything, just…strong.” Big, like a wall. Like, if anyone were to ever approach you wrongly, Joel would attack without question. And maybe the fact that he would do that should scare you, but instead, it entices you.

Joel sits with the implication, burdened by his own mind.

You can see him lost in thought, speaking with a comforting surety, “Thank you…for telling me.”

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

The next stretch of time, what feels like an hour, is spent in a comforting silence. You think Joel is nearly falling asleep but then he moves, make a comment about how the snow won’t let up and eventually you’re forcing yourself out of the hot tub, reaching over the side to snatch your towel and sending all of Joel’s clothes descending to the floor in the process and as if you had a death wish on Joel, your ass pops up at an angle that is physically impossible to look away from.

Joel is a gentleman, he swears. He was raised to respect and care and always put women first, but there’s a split second where he can’t pull his eyes away, feels like he’s just caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have, but then you’re turning your head over your shoulder and you definitely catch him—you could ruin the moment and say something or you could ignore it.

Fortunately, you save Joel some embarrassment, covering it with a sly smile as you apologize for dropping his clothes and take the final step out and wrap the towel around your body.

“Shit,” You quickly realize that in the midst of your pushing Joel to join you that he didn’t have a towel, “stay here—I’ll go grab you a towel.”

Joel wasn’t eager to move anyways, admittedly. Sporting half a hard-on under the water, he wouldn’t subject himself to the scrutiny of your gaze or what implications it would make, thinking every horrible possible thought to will it away—luckily your timing is perfect.

You quickly gather his dropped clothes and pile them in the chair as you toss the towel his way, ignoring any and all chances to glimpse at his wet body, back turned as you quickly excuse yourself away in fear of the idea that you might say something unforgettably stupid.

The walk to your separate bedroom is quick, swift, like a desperately needed escape.

But, as fate would have it, the moment you open the door and wretch the towel away from your body there’s a loud pop! to your left and a spark on the outside that has you halfway on the floor and slamming into the wall out of both shock and an attempt to shield yourself from whatever unseen force was at play, yelping out loud in the process.

From an outside perspective, you can understand why Joel doesn’t hesitate to come running.

He runs straight into your back, bare chest pressed against your know bare shoulders and leaving you half-dressed in front of him, scared out of your wits and willing to grab onto whatever was nearby to keep you upright—fortunately, Joel’s arm is the perfect anchor as your hand wraps around his wrist and squeezes.

“What the hell?” Joel inquires, slightly out of breath as he searches your face for any signs of injury, “What happened?”

You both look at the culprit—the heated window unit that was no longer expelling heat, and while the cabin was still heated, it didn’t reach the bedrooms well enough that you weren’t shivering without some type of additional help. You sigh in frustration, eyes turning up towards the ceiling as you feel no shame, too frustrated to care as you lean into Joel’s chest.

“Shit.” It’s all Joel offers as a solution, not that you were expecting one. But, still, it would be nice.

“Yeah, shit.” You echo, pushing away from him suddenly to gather your damp towel and a change of clothes, padding your bare feet toward the living room, but Joel is grabbing your wrist before you get too far from him.

“Hey, woah,” He starts in a calmer tone, “you can take my room—I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see if I can get ahold of the owners, we’ll figure something out.”

“I already tried calling them,” You admit, “Earlier. Straight to voicemail and something tells me they won’t be answering their phones until after the holidays.”

Pulling away again, you continue your way toward the living room and gather a few pillows and blankets, tossing them on the larger couch beside the fireplace. Joel doesn’t seem to entertain the idea, following on your heels as he gathers each item you throw in that direction and you finally reach a point of full, unrestrained frustration.

“Joel, cut the shit.”

“Take the room,” He offers as a counter, “I can sleep on the couch.”

With his back? Not a chance. But, he offers anyway.

“Fuck off,” You chuckle bitterly, “I’m not forcing you out of the bedroom.”

“Then it looks like we’re sharin’ the living room.”

You close your eyes, toss the blanket aside and breathe, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to not completely lose it on the man standing opposite of you.

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

“I’ll take the bed.” You quickly agree, but there’s a lingering ultimatum.

Joel waits, sees the thought brewing behind your pensive eyes.

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

“No,” You interject, putting your figurative foot down, suddenly vividly reminded of your vulnerability as you stood there, still slightly damp and in a swimsuit that did nothing to cover your body—it was the reason Joel’s eyes were so pointedly stuck on your face, never lingering elsewhere, “either we both sleep in here on the couch or we share the bed.”

Joel’s hands shift to his hips, towel tight around his waist and you’re too annoyed to admire the way his muscles tense and flex with the movement, the underlying thickening desire settling beneath the surface.

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

“Anyone ever told you you’re damn stubborn?” Joel asks, trailing behind you as you enter his bedroom, a clone of your own but with a small bathroom attached.

“All the time.” You answer truthfully. “I’m going to shower and sleep—no funny business.”

Meaning if Joel did sneak away into the living room to offer up the full amenities of his own room, he would feel your wrath tenfold.

Joel resigns to the idea and gathers his own pair of fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall, leaving you both to a moment of levity.

There’s no anticipation to the arrangement—but the idea is there, burrowing into the back of your mind.

You’re sleeping with a stranger…someone you knew little to nothing about, but it was your choice. And you trusted your gut.

Joel was safe, he was good.

You relax under the spray of hot water, a different heat to the one you enjoyed just a while ago, the type that allowed your thoughts to roam, and you laugh softly at the sight of Joel’s shower supplies, knowing he was stuck with whatever you brought—it wasn’t something you thought about in the moment, but there’s a brief realization that he was sharing a moment similar to your own, scowling at the sight of your fruity scented body wash that you left on the shelf there. It wasn’t a huge deal, Joel wouldn’t fuss over it.

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

As if his bare chest wasn’t already at the forefront, and his eyes as they had stared at you so unabashed until the moment he was caught, all innocent looks with deeper intentions that invaded your mind like a plague.

You were so fucking frustrated—annoyed with him, the state of your life, this stupid vacation. With the suds gone and the water drowning out the silence you allow yourself one—just one moment of selfishness...

And as if the house was the biggest tattletale of them all, the floor creaks on the other side of the door.

“Joel?” You call out curiously, as if an intruder in the middle of nowhere was even likely.

There’s several seconds of silence before Joel finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Your body wash sucks.” You goad lightly, hoping to ease the earlier frustration that had grown between you both, and while you can’t see him, you can hear his laughter on the other side of the door.

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

You smile to yourself, the way he responds with fondness that he tries to hide.

When you finish up and dress, peeking your head out before you move to open the door fully, Joel is already on his side, turned away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be bothered. The small blanket of division rolled and wedged in the center of the bed like a barrier, a warning.

Keep your distance and you both may manage to survive the rest of this vacation.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedrostories #MMITW #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x fem!reader #my writing #let's just pretend ellie isn't in that gif lmao

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sonamytrash · 2 months

Text

Just friends, right?

❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃

Just a Levi × reader fluff, some of the gang catch a glimpse of Levis softer side.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, fem reader deacribed, semi public displays of affection, Christa is a fangirl, the aot characters ship levi x reader.

❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting an amber hue across the landscape as the scouts had the opportunity to have an evening of rest and relaxation following a day of training. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, Jean, Ymir, Reiner, and Christa were gathered on a hill overlooking the stables, watching as you tended to the horses. The gentle sway of your hips and rhythmic movement as you worked were almost hypnotic, drawing the group's gaze like moths to a flame. Their eyes followed your every movement, even as they engaged in idle conversation about their day's training. It was then that they noticed Levi approaching you from across the field, his stride purposeful and determined.

Ymir and Christa exchanged knowing glances as they all observed the exchange between you both.

"There they go again," Ymir snickers, nodding in the direction of the two figures. "I swear, it's like they can't keep their hands off each other."

"Hey, Ymir," Sasha began, trying to gauge her friends reaction. "You think Levi and y/n are...?"

"He's probably just going to ask her about her day," Armin ventured, trying not to encourage any gossip. But even as he spoke, a blush crept up onto his cheeks. "I mean, they're just friends, right?"

Jean raised his eyebrow at Armin. "When has the captain ever asked anyone about their day?."

Ymir smirked, her eyes fixed on you and Levi. "Oh, come on, Armin. You're supposed to be smart, you know better than that." She said, teasing the innocent blonde.

Christa cleared her throat, a fond smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "It's sweet, really," she mused. "But, they're definitely more than friends. She is the first person he goes to see after a mission."

"Probably to make up for lost time." Ymir replies with a sly smile. "If you know what I mean."

Armin's cheeks flushed redder as he glanced over at the two of you, Ymirs comment making his imagination run wild.

Eren, on the other hand, was still confused. "Wait, what do you mean, 'they're more than friends?" he asked, his brow furrowing. He turned to face Ymir as she continued to watch you both with interest.

"Oh, come on, Eren," Reiner teased. "You can't tell me you haven't noticed the way they look at each other. It's obvious they're more than just friends."

Jean couldn't help but sigh with a jealous frown, watching as you and Levi spoke. "Yeah, but what does she see in him?" he muttered under his breath. "She is such a beautiful, intelligent, and kind woman." He rests his head in his hand, "and he's such a grumpy, short, old man." He says with a pout playing on his lips.

As if on cue, you let out a girlish giggle in response to something Levi had said. The group collectively sucked in a breath, their eyes wide with surprise. "I guess she doesn't mind his grumpy old man act," Reiner remarked with a chuckle.

"You mean like, in love?" Connie cut in, his voice a mix of curiosity and disbelief. A little slow to the conversation.

"I think they are," Mikasa said quietly, a small blush painted accross her cheeks.

The group fell silent as they watched you both converse, your bodies comfortably close together. Suddenly, you lean in closer to Levi, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered something that made the usually stoic man blush.

The gesture was so intimate, so familiar, that it left the group speechless. Even from a distance, they could see Levi's cheeks flush red as his eyes meet yours. You seemed to revel in the effect you were having on him, teasing him with your eyes and the gentle brush of your fingers against his arm.

"Oh my god, Captain Levi is blushing." Christa squeeled her eyes wide with excitement, propping herself onto her knees. "Do you think they're going to kiss!? I mean, they're totally in love, and I just know they're going to kiss right now!" she gushed, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink.

"He's never like this," Reiner mused, studying Levi's face. "I mean, I've seen him angry, and I've seen him determined, but this... this is something else entirely." The others nodded in agreement, their attention fixed on you both as you conversed.

Ymir nudged Armin, her grin widening, "See? I told you."

As if to prove her point, Levi leaned in even closer, his hand moving up to rest on your hip, the gesture bold and possessive. The others couldn't help but hold their breath as they watched, transfixed by the scene unfolding before them. Sasha, her cheeks flushed a deep red, whispered, "I didn't know Levi had it in him." Reiner chuckled, "Neither did I."

Connie whistled lowly, impressed by the display of affection. "Who knew Levi was such a romantic?" He muttered under his breath. Eren snorted, his cheeks flushed pink. "Oh, come on. You don't think they're really...?" His voice trailed off, his gaze fixed on the couple before them. Ymir laughed, "Oh, they're definitely doing more than just talking," she assured him.

The group watched as Levi pulled back slightly, his hands moving up to cup your face. You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as he brushed a stray hair behind your ear.

Christa covers her face, blushing furiously. "They're so cute together," she squeels, watching you both with a dreamy expression. "It's like they're the only two people in the world right now.".

Sasha glanced over at Ymir, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of her lips. "So, Ymir," she said, her voice low and teasing, "what do you think they're like in the bedroom?."

"I bet they go at it like a couple of alley cats every night behind closed doors." Ymir smirks.

When your lips finally met, the group let out a collective gasp, their eyes wide with wonder. As they watched Levis hand travel lower, cupping your behind before pulling you against him, causing you to let out a soft moan.

Armin stands up, blushing furiously. "I think that's enough for one evening!." He exclaims, waving his arms frantically to obscure the groups view. "But it's just getting good!" Sasha protests, trying to move him aside.

"I agree with Armin. If the captain finds out we were watching..." His face turns deathly pale. "He'll kill us."

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x y/n #captain levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #eren yeager #armin arlert #sasha braus #reiner braun #connie springer #jean kirstein #levi fluff #fanfic fluff

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jobean12-blog · 10 months

Text

Lost and Found

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker AU)

Word Count: 854

Summary: Joel comes home from a night out with the guys and has a surprise.

Author’s Note: I’ve been thinking about writing a little something for this for a while! Still in love with the idea of our grumpy biker soft for the sweet things like his girl and...well you can tell what else from my pics hehe! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!

Warnings: soft and sweet fluffs

Joel Miller Masterlist

The growl of his engine reverberates through the night air, at first distant and piercing the stillness before the power gradually diminishes as he slows down and approaches the house. The rhythmic purring begins to fade, replaced by the sound of the rubber tires rolling across the pavement.

Finally, the motorcycle stops, the engine settling into a quiet idle as the hot metal begins to cool with ticks and cracks.

He shuts the engine and swings one long leg over the seat.

You open your front door and run into his arms. He catches you easily, wrapping you up in him.

“Joel,” you whisper into the aged leather of his jacket.

“Hiya darlin’” he drawls, dragging you closer to capture your lips.

You only break apart when you feel a small movement beneath his jacket, the shifting making you pull back in surprise.

He throws you a sheepish smile and tucks you into his side. “Let’s get inside.”

The door shuts from the force of his booted foot and he switches on the small light by the couch.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispers, sitting down and crooking his finger at you.

You bring yourself between his spread legs and let out a slight squeak when he tugs you down to sit along his thigh.

“Missed you,” he murmurs against your lips.

You return the sentiment and run your fingers through his mussed hair.

“I have somethin’ to show you,” he says as he grabs the zipper of his jacket.

“Should I be scared?” you ask with a giggle.

“Nah darlin.’ You’re gonna love it.”

The pull of his zipper is deliberate as he keeps his eyes trained on you, your eyes staring at his hand.

“Joel…hurry up!” you whine, bouncing on his leg.

“Quit bouncin’ around and distracting me,” he tuts, throwing you a wink.

You sit perfectly still and eye him suspiciously.

That’s when you hear it. The tiniest, squeakiest meow ever.

“Oh my go…. IT’S A BABY KITTEN!!!”

You can’t contain yourself as he pulls out the cutest black kitten you’ve ever seen and you try your hardest to stifle your squeals of happiness. It’s tiny paws are clinging to his calloused fingers, adorned with tattoos, creating a stark contrast against her delicate and soft black fur. In his large hand she looks even tinier and her round glowing eyes are framed by a wild mane of fur.

“I found her by the dumpster at the back of the bar,” he explains. “I was helping Tommy with the trash and heard her cryin’.”

He cradles her against his chest and gently scratches behind her ears, his typically gruff voice becoming soothing as he coos sweet nothings. The kitten, as if sensing the safety of his arms, nestles into the warmth of his embrace and closes her eyes.

“I can’t handle this,” you whisper, standing from his thigh and grabbing your phone.

He grumbles out something you don’t quite catch but continues doting on the small bundle of fur in his arms.

With his legs spread wide his dark jeans are stretched tight against the thick muscles of his thighs and his biceps pop in his worn leather jacket. The dark ink of his tattoos is visible even in the dim lighting and when he presses a soft kiss to the top of the kitten’s head you let out a dreamy sigh.

He grumbles again but you ignore him completely, lifting your phone.

You can barely see the tiny kitten, her black fur blending in to him, but it’s sexy and soft and you can barely stand it.

“Can I please…” you start, trailing off when his eyes, dark and promising you anything your heart desires, lift to yours and he gives you an easy nod.

You snap several photos, doing your best to focus on the utter cuteness of the kitten and not how incredible your man looks.

“Can we keep her?” you ask tentatively as you pocket your phone and reach out for her.

He carefully places her in your arms, all his movements delicate in an unexpected way.

“Anything you want, darlin.’ I just want to make sure she’s safe.”

You look up at him, your wide eyes matching the kittens.

“Really?” you say softly, cuddling your face into her fur.

“What are you gonna name her?” he asks as he slides his hand up your thigh then closes it on your waist to tug you down into his lap.

“You should name her,” you say, snuggling yourself against his chest as he holds you and the kitten close. “You found her.”

Your head rests along his shoulder and he’s quiet for several moments, watching you and the kitten interact. You alternate between kissing the top of her head and kissing Joel’s neck, his soft hums of satisfaction matching the kitten’s content purring.

“What about Ink?” he finally says.

“Ink?” you repeat, but then your eyes sparkle with the realization. “Like your tattoos!”

He dips his head slightly but you can see the softness in his expression before he presses his mouth to yours.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper against his lips.

@pedritosdarling @blackwidownat2814 @lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @justkinsey @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @littleseasiren @hallecarey1

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #biker!joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #biker!joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #biker au #joel miller au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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mariaofdoranelle · 18 days

Text

The Booty-Call Dare

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics, prompt “Impress”

I got the idea for this after an incredibly unproductive conversation at a bar lol

Warnings: language, sexual themes (but SFW)

Words: 963

You’re just proving my point, Rowan texted her in response to a selfie Aelin sent of herself eating pie.

“What’re you smiling at?” Lysandra teased from the other side of Aelin’s living room, which caught Elide’s and Fenrys’ attention.

She immediately wiped it off her face and gave an eye roll before giving her attention back to Rowan.

It has strawberries in it, Aelin texted back, defensive of her dessert choices. It counts as fruit.

Nice try. There was a brief pause before he sent, What’re you up to?

Not much. You?

She needed to cut this conversation short before Fenrys complained that she wasn’t focused on Girls’ Night—no one could pinpoint exactly how he started attending, but he was a constant in her monthly-ish reunions with Lysandra and Elide.

In response, Rowan sent her a picture. It was a mirror one, just the curves of his biceps and shoulders in front of rows of dumbbells.

A gym pic.

Are you trying to make me feel bad for all that pie I ate? What the hell was she supposed to say?

His response came lightning fast. I thought it counted as fruit.

“Holy shit,” Elide said from behind Aelin, right before snatching her phone and zooming in the picture. “He’s so trying to impress you with these.”

“Stop it,” Aelin hissed as she took her phone back.

It wasn’t a show-off picture like the ones Fenrys posts, it was casual. Rowan must be so oblivious he had sent her a not-so-friendly reminder of his very tanned biceps.

“What?” Lys asked.

“Rowan DMed her a gym pic!”

Fenrys choked on his pie.

Aelin crossed her arms, ready for it. Her friends had a problem of constantly reading too much into Rowan’s behavior when he was just being a good friend.

Fenrys held both hands up in surrender. “Look, I can’t see through a dude’s heart, but I know when he wants his dick wet.”

Sometimes, Aelin wondered if things wouldn’t be different if she hadn’t been in a relationship when they met, in college. Still, she was glad for what they had now. “Rowan wouldn’t risk our friendship for a hookup.”

Fenrys sighed, a faraway look that indicated that he was in Philosopher Mode. “Having female friends is like raising chickens. Even if you never eat them, at some point you’ll look at them while you’re hungry and wonder.”

“Very well, then.” Aelin raised one brow up. “We’re friends.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you don’t think of me romantically.”

“No, ma’am.”

“But if I invited you to my bedroom…”

“I’d be there in a heartbeat. So would Rowan.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?” Aelin was confused, Fenrys never gave up like this.

“Alright,” he confirmed. “Call him now. Prove me wrong.”

“What.”

Lys and Elide cackled, then started a chorus of Do it! Do it!

Never one to back away from a challenge, Aelin squared her shoulders and unlocked her phone. “If I win, you’ll be demoralized and drop this subject forever. And if I lose…?”

Lys rolled her eyes. “You’ll fuck Rowan. I think this is a win-win scenario for you, Ae.”

But would she? She didn’t have much time to think about it, given the speed in which Rowan took her call.

“Hey, Fireheart.”

Her friends would mock her endlessly is she described Rowan as anything close to cheerful, but after being best friends for so many years, Aelin learned how to pick apart his undertones of grumpiness and yes, this was a happy one.

“Buzzard, hi.” The messy background noise from the call indicated that he was still at the gym. Good. She’d win this bet more easily if he was busy when she made the proposition—an idle brain is Hella’s playground. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Depends. Why’d you ask?”

“Um…” Aelin got up and paced around her small living room, and her friends watching on the edge of their seats didn’t help at all. “This might seem out of the blue, but I was wondering if you were up for… some Netflix and chill. You and me.”

This pause that felt like a lifetime was probably Rowan rewiring his brain after his best friend threw herself at him. Then, “Sure. There’s this new horror movie I thought you’d like. Or you wanna watch Gilmore Girls again?”

He didn’t want this. Rowan didn’t want it so bad he failed to recognize her proposal for what it was. The desire to hang up on him and disappear forever was overwhelming.

“No, not Netflix and chill. Netflix. And chill.”

A pause. “I’m confused.”

“I—“ Aelin pinched the bridge of her nose. This was harder than she thought. “Do you wanna bang?”

Rowan’s deafening silence was all the confirmation she needed.

“Fuck, um—“ Aelin grimaced. “I’m sorry. This was so stupid of me—“

“NO!” he interrupted. “S’okay. I— Um— Can you meet me in an hour? My place? Yours? D’youwannagrabdinner?”

“Um…” From the way her friends were grinning, Aelin’s blush must be visible from outer space. “Your place. I already ate. See you in an hour.”

“Cool.”

Aelin mumbled an unintelligible goodbye and hung up.

“I’m not even surprised.” Fenrys had a triumphant smirk on. “He’s doing cartwheels as we speak.”

Lysandra, the traitor, was laughing. “He’s setting off fireworks!”

Ellie’s eyes went wide. “Did he ask for that hour to shave?”

Aelin was frozen in place.

She had just scheduled a hookup with her best friend.

“Should I call him again to cancel?”

“Do you want to?”

No, she didn’t.

She had just potentially murdered their friendship, and Rowan seemed to be okay with it.

Aelin peeked under her shirt, cursed and ran to her room.

“I’m wearing granny underwear!”

If Aelin was about to ruin their friendship, she’d do it right.

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#throne of glass microfics #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin fireheart #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #drabble

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stuckysbike · 11 months

Text

His Prize part 3/3

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Bucky x Reader

AU: Bucky takes you on honeymoon.

Warnings: author overindulged in their own travel fantasy, p in v sex, Bucky is a sexy menace, happy ending. This is just sex folks, if you’re under 18 please don’t read!

———

“-and we just decided that we’ve been engaged long enough and want to get married.” Bucky finished.

The office in the courthouse was small but the harassed guy behind the desk recognised Bucky and his grumpy demeanour brightened right up after he explained he’d won the office betting pool after Bucky’s last fight.

“How long have you been engaged?” The clerk behind the desk asked as he noted your names into his system.

“About fourteen hours.”

You bit your lip to keep a giggle inside. The clerks eyes flew over both of you then back to his documents.

“We’ve been friends for years,” you added, concerned he would think you were a gold digger or an obsessed fan. “Been idiots in love just as long.”

Bucky squeezed your fingers and you smiled up at him. He couldn’t resist pecking a kiss to the tip of your nose. His eyes were shining bright and he looked relaxed and carefree. And happy.

Four hours later you were on a plane to Paris. Being your best friend you had always shared your dreams and quirky obsessions with Bucky. He had listened to your crazy ramblings, what’s more he was taking you on the trip of a lifetime. You didn’t think it was possible to love him more but he proved you wrong with his travel plans for the next three weeks.

The cabin lights were dimmed, seats reclined and Bucky was already asleep. You held his hand as you followed him into the land of nod.

—————

“Buck- James,” you breathed.

You felt chocked up, and tears threatened to spill.

“You okay Sugarplum?” Bucky pulled you into his side.

“I can’t,” you squeezed your eyes closed, but when you opened them, the view hadn’t changed.

The train sat idle but boarding. The rich blue carriages were elegant and you could feel the history and magic as you gazed at them as they hummed, awaiting their passengers.

“Welcome to the Orient Express my love,” Bucky sounded smug. You couldn’t even be angry at his cocky attitude all you wanted to do was kiss him. “We’re priority boarding, we’re in the Grand Suite.”

“Bucky,” you chocked out and he hugged you close and kissed your head.

“Come on Sugarplum, let’s get onboard,” he said pulling you along behind him.

The Orient Express was everything you had imagined. Your suite was perfect, compact yet elegant and not cramped. Crisp white linens covered the bed, and a small table complete with comfortable seats was placed a few feet away. The bathroom was neat with everything you needed and just enough room to move.

“Welcome Mr and Mrs Barnes,” your private butler said bowing at the waist. “Anything you need at all, just call.”

“Bucky,” you sighed looking up at him. He pulled you into his chest and dropped his lips to yours. You kissed him back, melting into his strength and sliding your arms around his neck.

“You know,” Bucky said pulling away, “I’m the happiest guy alive right now.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked.

“Got my best girl here in my arms, got a wonderful trip planned, got the world at my fingertips,” Bucky rested his forehead on yours. “I’m so in love with you.”

“Oh Buck, I love you so much.”

Bucky had showered and changed for dinner and had headed off to the bar for a drink whilst you took your time pampering yourself. By the time he returned you were putting the finishing touches to your makeup.

You stood as he entered your suite and he gasped. “Wow,” he murmured. The dress hugged your curves and set off your eyes and the heels lifted you a little closer to his lips. “What a wife.”

You giggled and took his hand, letting him lead you to the dining car. It was as beautiful as the rest of the train with carefully laid tables and soft comfortable seats.

The food was divine, and Bucky spent the entire time flirting with you and being his usual charming self. His eyes barely left you, and his feet were tangled with yours the entire evening. By the time you finished your cheese board and wine you were buzzing comfortably.

As you stepped back into your suite your heart was thumping in your chest. Bucky’s wide hands cupped your waist and he pulled you close, swaying on the spot. You rested your cheek on his chest and sank into him, letting him lead.

Bucky’s chin was resting on your temple, and as he pulled back his breath was warm on your skin. You glanced up at him, suddenly nervous. You had never been nervous with him before, not even your first time, but you were tonight.

“I want to make love to you Sugarplum,” Bucky growled. You could only nod, your voice lost.

His kiss was soft, but he rolled his tongue into your mouth seeking yours. You sighed against him as his hands travelled all over your waist and hips. You undressed each other slowly, and as Bucky got to your lace lingerie and stockings he groaned aloud.

“Fuck baby you look absolutely stunning,” he said as he eyed the plump swell of your breasts and your soft thighs. “I want to taste you.”

As you fell onto the thick duvet you bounced slightly but Bucky was over you, his mouth on your chest. He kissed his way down your body and hooked his fingers into your panties, trailing them over your legs.

“So goddamn wet,” Bucky moaned as he latched his mouth over your mound. He dragged his tongue through your slick folds then fluttered it against your swollen clit. Two thick fingers slid into your cunt and he sucked on your clit. You moaned as his pinky brushed your asshole.

Bucky wrapped his thick arms around your thighs and before you knew it he was on his back and you were hovering over his face. He pulled you down, his tongue pushing through your pussy to circle your clit. You cried out and buried your fingers in his hair.

You couldn’t take your eyes off his, and he didn’t look away, his eyes flicking over your body. You brought one hand to tug at your lace covered nipple, crying out as Bucky sucked harder on you. “I’m going to cum,” you warned him. Bucky doubled his efforts, the tip of his finger pressing into your back hole.

Your orgasm was intense, licking up your spine as you shuddered through it, and Bucky only stopped when you pushed his face away. He moved to kissing your thighs and even that had you jerking and tingling under his mouth.

You slumped to the side and Bucky followed you his mouth covering yours. You could taste yourself as you sucked his tongue, nipping the tip playfully. Bucky moaned and rested his weight on your body as you wrapped your legs around strong hips. You pushed your hands into his black briefs and Bucky rocked against you, his mouth not leaving yours.

“Babydoll, darlin’ please,” Bucky said as he kissed your cheeks. You squeezed his ass and nipped his throat as Bucky lined himself up. He pushed into you, his thick cock splitting you open.

“Oh,” You turned to find his lips. “Oh Bucky,” you threaded your fingers through his hair.

“Mrs Barnes,” he murmured, his lips curving into a smile. “My beautiful wife.” He used his thick arms to cage you in, them resting on either side of your head and you preened under his possessiveness.

You rocked together, his hips snapping into yours, a wide hand squeezing at your soft tits. He slipped his other hand behind you to remove your bra and soon his mouth was covering your nipple, teeth grazing the hard bud as you arched into his mouth.

You were startled when he moved suddenly, rolling into his back. Warm hands helped steady you and his thumbs grazed the tops of your stockings. “Ride me Mrs Barnes.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you leaned in to kiss him, and then you sat up. Bucky tried to reach for your tits but you pushed his hands away.

“I’m going to give you a little show Mr Barnes,” you smirked. His lust filled eyes gave you confidence and you plucked at your nipples and squeezed your tits. The train rhythm helped you to rock on Bucky’s cock, and you matched the steady pace.

“Fuck Love, look at you, babydoll,” Bucky babbled. “Such a filthy wife I have.”

“You do have a filthy wife,” you promised him quirking an eyebrow and giving him your most salacious smirk. You slipped a hand behind you and let your fingertips graze his sensitive balls. Bucky cried out and bucked into you.

“You’re killing me darlin’,” Bucky huffed as you changed tactics, rolling your hips in figure eight shapes. You could feel your pleasure buzzing low in your tummy. You laced your fingers with Bucky’s and pushed his hands above his head. Your breasts were swaying in his face and his mouth was slack as he took you in. “I love you so much.”

You dropped close to kiss him and you felt that burn in your groin as your clit bumped his hard pubic bone. You came like that and Bucky wrapped his arms around you guiding you through it.

He flipped you, hooking a leg over his arm and a few pumps of his hips had him spilling inside you. The sensation triggered a further orgasm and you trembled underneath him.

“Sugarplum, baby I love you so much, I’m such an idiot,” he murmured.

“Shush,” you pushed at his shoulder. He rolled back taking you with him and then you eased yourself off him. “Wanna’ taste us Buck,” you said as you slithered down his body to clean his cock off.

Bucky watched you with wide eyes and you didn’t miss his cock twitching in your fingers. You giggled and pressed a kiss to his shaft.

“Come’ere darlin’, come kiss me,” Bucky said pulling you to him. You slid hands underneath his head and kissed his slow and deep, both of you moaning at the sensation.

Later, as you traced patterns on Bucky’s chest you felt more security in his arms than ever before. You fell asleep easily with the man you loved, with the man who loved you and dedicated his life to you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes smut #boxer!bucky

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buckychristwrites · 11 months

Text

Could This Be | Chap. Five | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

“Should we go in, then?”

“Probably.”

Despite this, the both of you continued to sit in Jamie’s idling car. A slow trickle of rain fell on the windshield. From what you could tell, Keeley and Roy had not arrived yet.

“Unless you want to wait for them?” You asked him. All he did was shrug. It was clear that he was anxious too. He kept pulling at the end of his jacket, you noticed, and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Raising your hand slowly, hesitantly, you reached over and placed it on his forearm lightly. He jumped at the contact before whirling his head to face you.

“It’s gonna be okay,” You said softly. He looked between you and your hand, taking a deep breath before nodding. Just as he was about to speak, you looked over his shoulder to find Roy and Keeley on the other side of the street, approaching the door to the restaurant. You nodded in their direction. “They’re here. You ready?” He nodded before turning the car off and climbing out. You did the same, walking to the other side of the car where he stood. He held his hand out for you, raising his eyebrows in question. Your heart rate picked up from the anxiety the gesture brought, but even still, you reached out and pressed your palm into his. He adjusted his hand to entwine your fingers into his own before leading you across the road.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It was so simple. Yet, you had forgotten what it was like to have your hand held so delicately. His hand was warm against yours, but in a comforting way. His fingers were wrapped tightly around your hand, but not too tight to where you felt like you were in trouble, yet not so loose that you felt like he was doing it out of obligation. Both of those feelings, you were all too familiar with. There was something about the way his fingertips felt against the top of your hand that was so… consoling.

It made you want to cry on the spot. But, this time, not from sadness, or fear.

You wanted to cry out of euphoria.

Keeley caught sight of the two of you first, her face instantly breaking out into a wide smile.

“I can’t fuckin’ stand how cute the two of you are,” She said, shaking her head as she opened her arms for a hug. You walked into them, Jamie hugging Roy at the same time. When Keeley pulled away so she could hug Jamie, you turned to Roy.

“How’s my favourite grumpy old troll?” You asked him as he kissed your cheek and hugged you.

“I feel like I see enough of you pricks without having to spend a whole dinner with you,” He grumbled, although you could just make out the playful tone in his voice. You rolled your eyes at him. Jamie opened the door to the restaurant and allowed Roy, Keeley and then yourself to enter before following behind. His hand brushed against yours as the group approached the hostess, and, instinctively, you slipped your hand in his, entwining your fingers for him this time.

The fact that the feeling of your hand being held left you with butterflies in your stomach made you feel so stupid. It shouldn’t be this groundbreaking to your stupid brain that you were holding someone’s hand without being afraid. But you continued with it anyway.

The hostess led the four of you to your table right away, allowing you to sit at the window table. Jamie pulled your chair out for you, a deep heat filling your cheeks as you sat down under the suspicious stare of Roy Kent, who had already sat down. When Jamie’s hand left yours, your skin was left with a cold void. The waitress was already swooping over with glasses of water before your chair was even scooted in.

“Jamie, when did you become such a gentleman?” Keeley asked, her hand over her chest. He looked between the three of you as he took his own seat. Clearly, he hadn’t done something he felt was worth commenting on.

“Oh erm…”

“Isn’t he such a gentleman though?” You interjected, saving him from answering. “He even brought me flowers when he picked me up. Beautiful bouquet of roses.” You put a hand on his upper arm and gave it a squeeze. “Part of the reason I like him so much, I think.” Roy, who had been taking a drink of his water, snorted, blowing bubbles into his glass and subsequently getting water all over himself. Everyone else at the table wordlessly decided to collectively ignore this.

“So,” Keeley said, resting her chin over the tops of her hands. “Tell me everything.”

You and Jamie exchanged a look. It was too much to expect the subject to not be brought up so early in the dinner. Though, you were hoping to at least have some bread before it was mentioned.

“Well, obviously, we met at work,” Jamie said, throwing his napkin on his lap. You had to resist the urge to run your hands down your face.

Sweet fucking Jesus.

“Well, I’ve been enlightened,” Roy said, having just finished cleaning the water off his black button up shirt.

“It wasn’t because of work that we started talking though,” You explained, smiling sweetly at Keeley, who was still eagerly listening to the two of you.

“Oh yeah, we ran into each other outside of work one day,” Jamie added. You looked at him before looking back at them. Now he was giving you something to work with.

“Oh? Where did you run into each other?” Keeley asked. You glanced at Jamie again right as he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“The Zoo.” It slipped out so fast that you weren’t sure who had said it until everyone turned to stare at you. You nodded, standing by your answer. “The London Zoo. We ran into each other there.” Roy turned to Jamie.

“Why the fuck were you at the Zoo?” He asked. Jamie looked positively offended by the question.

“I love animals.”

“Enough to go to the Zoo by yourself?”

“Who said I was by meself?”

“Who were you with then?”

Jamie stammered for a moment too long before finally saying, “...Meself.”

“I personally love going to the zoo by myself,” You chimed in casually just as the waitress came by with a basket of bread and to take drink orders.

“We all are aware of your passion about zoos and animals,” Roy said as he ignored the new presence looming over the table. “I’m talkin’ about ‘im.”

“I’d love some wine,” Keeley said happily to the waitress, entirely unfazed by whatever it was that was happening at this table.

“Just keep the whiskeys comin’, love,” Jamie added, giving the waitress a tense smile.

“Same for me,” Roy said, glaring at Jamie.

“I’ll just stick with water,” You whispered before taking a long sip. This was clearly going to be the longest night of your life, and while you would rather be drunk for it, someone needed to be sober. And you weren’t sure that someone was going to be Jamie, who had also been your ride.

“What were you doing at the zoo, Jamie?” Keeley asked. He raised his shoulders in a shrug.

“Just felt like walkin’ amongst the animals.” He took a long drink from his water glass, and you did the same.

“And you two just ran into each other?” She followed up. You looked over at him, imagining this fake meeting in your mind.

“Yeah,” You said quietly. “We got to talking, and then the next thing we knew, hours had passed and we had just been walking around in circles!” Keeley smiled as if she was watching a romantic comedy in real time. You felt like you were an actor in one. Playing out the scenes but none of them actually being your own.

“What’s your favourite animal at the zoo then, Tartt?” Roy asked as he took another drink from his water glass.

“Pandas. Easy,” Jamie said confidently, folding his arms in front of him. It took everything in you to not slide out from your chair and under the table. You reached over and put a hand over his.

“...Would be your favourite if they had pandas, like we talked about when we ran into each other!” You said through your teeth. Jamie smiled.

“Right. Fuckin’ love pandas. They should be at every zoo.”

“You had mentioned the African wild dogs were really good, if I’m remembering correctly,” You said as you scratched your forehead. Jamie snapped his fingers before pointing at you.

“That’s what I meant. African wild dogs.”

“Yeah, because African wild dogs are so similar to fuckin’ pandas,” Roy retorted. You grabbed a piece of bread and stressfully took a very large bite.

“It’s the fur pa’ern,” Jamie tried to defend himself, gesturing around his eyes. “They got the dark fur around their eyes, yeah? Similar to pandas.”

“Isn’t the bread here just amazin’!?” Keeley asked as she took a piece for herself. It was unclear if she was trying to alleviate the tension or if she just really thought the bread was good, but you were thankful for her input regardless. Both Roy and Jamie took that opportunity to take a piece of bread for themselves. The waitress came back with the drinks, setting them down and pulling out her pad for orders.

“We need a minute,” Roy told her before she could even get a word out. She nodded before wandering off again. You took the menu and opened it for the first time. Jamie, instead of reading his own, was looking over your shoulder.

“I recommend the fettuccine,” He said quietly, pointing to where it was on the menu. “Although their shrimp is pretty good too.” You glanced over the menu to see if Keeley and Roy were paying attention before turning your head slightly towards Jamie.

“I’m allergic to shellfish,” You whispered, desperate for the other two not to hear.

“You’re allergic to shellfish?” He whispered back in a shock filled voice. You nodded.

“My throat will close right up.” You closed your fist quickly to demonstrate, causing Jamie’s eyes to widen. Roy dropped his menu loudly onto the table, making the both of you jump.

“You didn’t know she’s allergic to shellfish?” He demanded, sounding displeased, almost disgusted. You set the menu down lightly.

“It just hasn’t come up, Roy,” You said, trying and failing to not sound tired. “We’ve only just started dating. We’re still getting to know each other.” Keeley turned to Roy, putting her hand on his thigh.

“Babe,” She said gently. “You need to calm down.” His eyes rolled upward, staring at the ceiling as she chastised him. “They’re our friends, yeah? There’s no need to quiz them, or interrogate them! They’re happy, and we’re happy.” His eyes fell on Jamie once again.

“Yeah,” He grumbled. “Happy.”

Keeley turned around to face forward again, giving you another bright smile. You were so thankful for her at this moment. Though you knew that Roy meant well, you weren’t sure he always realised how incredibly intimidating he is. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care. The waitress returned to take orders, and you did take Jamie’s suggestion to get the chicken fettuccine alfredo (no shrimp for you though). When she walked off again, you saw that Roy and Jamie both started and finished their whiskeys in the same gulp at the same time.

“What sort of things do you do together?” Keeley asked, sipping on her wine.

“Ride bikes!” Jamie was quick to answer on his own. This time, Roy turned to you.

“You fuckin’ hate cycling.”

You shrugged, trying to remain casual. “I’m getting into it.” You tilted your head, trying to look thoughtful. “Jamie’s helped me… see the fun in it. Like he did with you!” He looked so homicidal that you had to look away while drinking your water to avoid laughing.

“Sometimes we just run errands together, just so we don’t have to do them alone,” You added. “But also, obviously, to spend more time together.” Keeley looked lovestruck.

“Awww, you always talk about how much you hate doing errands alone!”

Which you did. It always felt so… sad to go to the grocery store or to the bank alone. Something about the fact that this was a lie made your chest hurt.

The waitress swept in again, this time to deliver the plates of food. The serving size was smaller than you had thought it would be, especially due to the amount it was going to cost. You weren’t used to fancy restaurants, mostly going to the local takeout spots near your house that gave you enough food to last a few days. Picking up your fork, you dug into your plate, as everyone else already had.

You looked over at Jamie, who you just now noticed had gotten the fettuccine as well. When he noticed your gaze on him, he raised his eyebrows in question.

“No shrimp?” You asked curiously. He shook his head, looking at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Didn’t want to risk it.”

“Risk what?” You asked. He pointed to you.

“You.” He looked confused. “Being near it makes your throat go-” He closed his fist tightly, just as you had done before. “-yeah?” You shook your head, biting back a smile.

“It’s only if I ingest it, or if it touches my food,” You explained.

He let out a quiet, “Oh,” looking down at his plate before his eyes were on you once more.

“Oh well.”

It was touching how he considered you when ordering his own food. There were specific memories in your head of parties (yes, multiple) thrown by your ex significant other where you couldn’t eat any of the food provided due to shellfish being involved. The sadness you had felt during those times was so vivid in your mind.

“Do you even know where the zoo is?” Roy asked, reeling the conversation back. You wanted to throw your fork at him.

“Camden,” Jamie answered without a second thought. You were surprised at the speed, but tried not to let that show in your expression. Roy didn’t say anything in response, just growling, as he always does, before turning back to his plate.

Soon enough, your plate was empty. The food wasn’t anything to phone home about, and certainly not worth the price tag, but it was decent enough. Jamie hummed, making you look at him in time to see him gesturing towards his mouth.

“You got somethin’…” He said. You went to grab your napkin, but he was already reaching over with his own. “May I?” You caught his eye before nodding. It was delicate, the way he wiped the alfredo sauce from your mouth. It was also incredibly intimate, and you could feel the embarrassment filling your chest. He didn’t appear to notice as he pulled away. “There ya go, love.”

The nickname caught you off guard. Of course, you had heard him refer to the waitress earlier in the same way, but you weren’t expecting the same treatment. Though, maybe that was on you for not. You tried to continue as normal, and not allow yourself to feel whatever it was that was boiling up in your chest. Was it anxiety? Was it delight? It was hard to say.

The waitress came back with the check, which Jamie snatched as Roy began to reach for it.

“I got it,” Roy said with his hand held out. Jamie shook his head, raising his hand so his palm was facing Roy.

“Please.”

“Give me the fuckin’ check, Tartt.”

Jamie didn’t say another word, instead just taking his credit card out of his wallet. When the waitress came by again, he all but threw them at her without breaking eye contact with Roy.

The way Jamie and Roy naturally butt heads on their own without your intervention had always been funny, but it being worse now that you were involved made it all the more hilarious.

Before long, the four of you were standing to leave. Just as you turn to walk away from the table, you find Jamie standing there waiting with his hand extended out towards you. It was hard to pretend you weren’t excited to have your hand back in his. When your fingers curled through his again, it felt like cuddling up under a blanket after a long day at work. Like your hand was just meant to be held by his. In a fake romantic sort of way, of course.

The rain was still softly falling. Your eyes drifted upwards towards the sky once you crossed the threshold into the cool night air. As you and Jamie walked, your intertwined hands naturally swung back and forth. Roy and Keeley turned before getting too far.

“Thank you for the lovely evening,” Keeley said, giving you a hug. Despite yourself, your hug back was only one armed, as you still had a grip on Jamie’s hand. He didn’t make any moves to break it either, as he said his goodbyes. When you turned to Roy, you gave him a small smile.

“Are you gonna start being nice now?” You asked him. He rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be the nicest fuckin’ angel on the planet.”

You gave him your most radiant smile.

“Thank you.”

When you hugged him, he didn’t say another word, but he gave you a tight squeeze. And that was enough. You knew exactly what he meant.

One more set of waves were exchanged as Jamie and you turned to head towards his car. He opened the door to the passengers side for you, and when you flopped in, your hand fell from his, leaving the void once again. He ended up only having one drink, the other one abandoned on the table once the food arrived. You were grateful, as you didn’t want to drive his car.

Jamie climbed into the driver’s side and shut the door. Staring at the steering wheel, a moment passed before he spoke. “I think that went alright.”

You wrinkled your nose in thought.

“I think it went as well as one could expect it to.”

As he pulled the car from the curb, you curled into your seat, the anxiety melting away now that it was just you and him.

“Glad I didn’t get the shrimp,” He mumbled. “Coulda killed ya.”

“It would’ve gotten us out of the dinner though,” You pointed out. “Wouldn’t have had to listen to you say there’s pandas at the London zoo.” He let out a loud laugh.

“I didn’t know!” He was laughing as he said this.

“That’s obvious,” You said, shaking your head. He shot you a pouty look, and you shook your head even more.

“We hadn’t even ordered at that point,” He pointed out. “So I woulda said it either way. Just couldn’t escape it.” You stared out the windshield, fighting the urge to laugh anymore.

“A shame.”

You watched the buildings go by as the car drove down the surprisingly sparse road. It was slightly dark, the only light being from the headlights and the post lamps.

“D’you know what though, I think we convinced Roy,” Jamie said happily. You rolled your head across the headrest to look at him.

“Maybe,” You said. “But he’ll probably still be mean to you.” He shrugged.

“I’m not worried.” He made a nonchalant face. “He’s already mean to me.” You fought a smile.

“That’s true,” You said. “Although, you deserve it sometimes.”

“Oi, when the fuck do I deserve it?” He demanded, staring at you as if you had betrayed him.

“When you’re being a fucking prick?” You shouted back at him in a questioning tone. He fell back in his seat.

“Yeah, alright.” A beat passed. “But most of the time, I don’t deserve it, right?”

You stared down at your hand, curling and straightening your fingers over and over to try and fight the tingling feeling creeping through them. It didn’t work, but you already knew why. If you imagined hard enough, you could pretend like a warm hand was still fit inside it. Maybe that was all you could do to fill the void. Just pretend.

“No, Jamie,” You said. “Most of the time, you don’t.”

TAGS

@daffieapple, @my-left-sock, @buckybarnex, @jelleeyfish, @ricciardhoe3, @picked-off-by-barzal, @lilweirdgal, @hotdoglamp, @loveslide, @rosea-h, @13-7-19-67-71. @wickedheartz, @xxenia14, @zazima, @alainabooks143. @geek-and-proud, @imagines-reblogged, @fuckifuckedup, @booklovingduck, @loveforaugust, @f1maverick, @jamieroyjamieroy, @meisterdani, @hanybunch, @batsy-bats1, @brianandthemays, @heletsmelovehim. @breepboopbap, @jellycolors

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #tedlassosource #ted lasso fanfiction

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neverevan · 4 months

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Fuck It Friday ☔️

Tagged and tagging @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @wikiangela @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon and my sweets whose continuous support means the world to me @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns MWUAH 💛💛

Hey peeps, I've been having some not-exactly-good dreams last night and then had a really not-exactly-good day, on the flipside I have officially finished the first draft of the mudslide fic. 🫡

It still has a lot of blindspots and some kinda vague bits, but the skeleton is there, all I gotta do is build on it! It ended up just over 62k and though now I'm trying to avoid guessing word counts in general, I think it'll come to round out around 70k or so. Anyway, here, have some more Buckley-Diaz domesticity:

“What is it, Chris? Where is the fire?” “Dad!” His smile was so bright that his eyes crinkled with it and it was enough for Eddie to soften and let his grumpiness melt away almost instantaneously. “The Aquarium opens at nine!” Eddie dragged his hands down his face in an attempt to make himself more alert. “You didn’t forget about that, huh?” The door to his bedroom opened behind them and Buck walked out, squinting and looking just as disheveled as Eddie left him in his bed a moment ago. “Buck!” Chris turned his head into his direction. The air stuck in Eddie’s lungs for a split second, expecting the row of questions or accusations from Chris — after all, the kid was intuitive as hell — but it never came. Instead he just pushed past Eddie and grabbed Buck’s wrist, tugging him towards the kitchen, Eddie wandering numbly in their heels. “Hey Chris, wha- what’s going on?” Buck asked, clearly still in awe of the situation he found himself in only minutes after waking up. “The Aquarium opens at nine.” He relayed the same information to Buck as well, but while Eddie just felt a little out of sorts that he actually forgot about their plans, Buck’s face lit up like commercial LED lights. “Well then, we better get started on breakfast, hm? What do you say?” “Waffles!” Christopher cheered and Buck laughed, jovial and full of love and not for the first time, Eddie found that his heart was beating to the rhythm of hope. It wasn’t his fault that waking up in the same bed with Buck, followed by a family breakfast sounded perfect. Well, maybe too perfect. “Sorry bud, I don’t think we have any left in the freezer.” Eddie informed him regretfully, but before Chris could’ve expressed his disappointment, Buck cut in. “Come on Eddie, who needs frozen waffles when I have my Sous Chef to help me with the batter?” Buck winked at Chris who just beamed up at him in response. Eddie didn’t even know what to say to that, so he just watched the two of them idle towards the kitchen before following suit.

#this bitch is 158 pages already?? and it'll still get longer?? who's even gonna read all that lmao but seriously #I'm so excited I might die?? like wow #this was the first fic I started writing for these two sillies and to actually finish it after all this time??#it's still gonna be a lot of work but I think I MIGHT be able to start posting next week #god I can't believe I actually managed to pull it together before the weekend #so now I might just edit the grave fic tomorrow and post it~#because the shannon feels got to me and I kinda made myself cry with that one lmao #anyway #🫡🫡🫡#buddie #911 #wip #the mudslide fic

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vibingpyro · 4 months

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It's the small things.

Being invited into a multidimensional spider society to protect the welfare of many universes isn't quite how I expected my past few months to go.

But, I'm not complaining. Until now that is.

I'm currently walking around HQ on one of the many platforms dodging busy spider people of all types, having finished my idle task work of patrolling my own dimension as well as a few others has left me rather bored.

I give a small almost inaudible groan as I keep walking, glaring down briefly at the boot on my left foot, the main reason and to my irritation, cause for my lack of blood rushing and interesting assignments being assigned by Miguel.

'You crush your foot one time and suddenly, you're at the bottom of the interesting assignments food chain' I think, grumbling to myself.

Thankfully, some of the other spiders have been able to cheer me up at times that they aren't on their own missions, Gwen often coming by to offer a listening ear, while Pavitr often distracts me from my feelings with snacks he thinks I may like and Hobie...well, Hobie has been asking some odd questions.

I'm too busy in my grumbling to notice Hobie pushing himself off of the nearby bench upon spotting me coming into his view, until he's walking right alongside me, slowing his usual quick paced steps to compensate for my boot-amplified limp.

"You still narky then?" Hobie hums beside me, watching me out of the corner of his eye as he keeps slow pace beside me.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, and give a small nod at his question.

"Yes, Hobie, I am still 'Narky'." I murmur, having grown accustomed to Hobies slang, but being asked if I'm grumpy does little to improve my mood.

Hobie gives a slight nod, before the air turns to silence.

That is until Hobie, as usual, breaks it.

"What's your favorite color again?" Hobie asks, looking forward as he keeps walking but there's an undeniable hint of interest in his tone, as if searching for confirmation.

My eyebrows furrow for a moment at the sudden question, at first, Hobie had asked me if I had any certain allergies a few days ago, which I suppose could be related to my boot but not necessarily but now...this was off topic entirely, yet purely conversational.

I give a small shrug of my shoulders, "I dunno, I like purples and blues." I say, eyeing Hobie out of the corner of my eye, a bit confused to where this conversation is going.

Hobie, surprisingly perks up at that answer, his normally lidded eyes sparkling and I can't help my heart flutter at the sight, especially when his lips quirk up into an slightly proud smile.

"knew it..." Hobie murmurs underneath his breath, digging into his vest pocket as he steps in front of me, walking backwards and facing me, evading walking spider people with ease.

It takes a brief moment of Hobie rummaging into his pocket of his vest, before dangling a shiny, beaded and clearly homemade, Hobie-flared bracelet.

My eyes widen as I reach my hand out to accept it gently taking it into my hand, examining the beads and shiny silver thread that holds it all together. Its...all of the things i'd told Hobie about, or things he had likely picked up along the way of knowing me.

Theres purple and blue shades of beads, interlocked with small silver beads in between each in a intertwined pattern, and the smile just widens on my lips at the thoughtful gesture.

"Took a bit to find all the rights gems n' such." Hobie says. "D'ya like it?" He asks, placing his hands back into his vest pockets as he watches my reaction with a curious face.

I instantly nod, placing the bracelet on my wrist and to my surprise it fits perfectly, but I only smile wider. "Hobie, this is so sweet of you." I praise, looking back up at him.

One of Hobies hand moves out of his vest pocket to wave, 'a get out of here' gesture but the pleased smile on his lips does little to hide how he truly feels about the praise.

Hobie moves back swiftly to my side instead of walking backwards in front of me, nudging my shoulder softly with his elbow.

"Still narky?" He teases, and I can't help but laugh a bit at that, shaking my head as I look down at the bracelet, the beads making a soft clack with each step I take.

"Nah, not anymore." I reply.

#hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #across the spiderverse #hobart brown

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moodymisty · 6 months

Text

Was trying to doodle something, but it didn't come out right. So here, have it in writing form instead. Forgib any spelling mistakes or whatnot, it's quick and dirty.

No warnings, just comforting fluff with War.

Strife paces around three or so meters from War, watching intently as the youngest horsemen sits firmly idle. He's been getting quite sick of Strife's incessant pacing, and looks at at him with a heavy set glare when he comes closer again. Strife is talking a bluestreak within moments.

"Come on man, I promise I won't even wake her up you just gotta m-"

After what has felt like hours to Strife, War finally speaks up in a hushed tone. His brow is even more furrowed than usual.

"Cease your incessant yaping," He hisses the rest of his sentence. "You will wake her."

Strife clenches his hands and resists the urge to groan dramatically. Meanwhile you adjust in War's lap, slotted comfortable against his chest as you sleep. They don't quite know if something had upset you, or hurt you in some way, but for now, you seemed to have calmed enough to fall asleep.

And much to Strife's dismay, you'd done so on his younger brother and not him; Despite War being the stuffy no nonsense, no emotion Horsemen. Why you'd want anything to do with Horsemen of no fun allowed is beyond him.

Though War has apparently taken his new duty as massive Nephilim heater and bed combination quite seriously, if his cape being wrapped firmly around your shoulders has any indicator. His right hand rests on your upper back, as your head lays against his chest. His chin just barely brushes against the top of your head. Your hands gently grip him, long strands of white hair weaving between your small fingers.

He has a small- at least compared to him- human on his lap snuggling him, and the Nephilim still has the same stern, grumpy face he always does.

"Find something else to entertain yourself." Strife glares at the red rider.

"Weren't you the one who was all 'why are you wasting your time with humans' not long ago?"

War slowly pulls one arm away from you, and begins reaching for Chaoseater, which is laid centimeters away against the wall. Strife backs up and raises his hands.

"Fine fine! I'll go."

Finally having managed to chase the gunslinger away, War looks down at you to confirm you are indeed still asleep.

Not a peep from you. Just the gentle whistling of your breaths.

His hand gently rests back on your shoulderblades, and you shift a little bit into him.

War's never been good at emotions. So when you wake up, he'll be hard pressed to say more than a few words about this. If someone hurt you? He can just threaten them, that's easy. Anything else, not so much. But if this helps you, he doesn't mind being weighed down for a bit.

#needed some fluff to deal with an absolute shitter of a day so this is it #war x reader #darksiders war x reader #Darksiders/Reader #darksiders x reader #darksiders x you #Darksiders War/Reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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shyvioletcat · 8 months

Text

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 27

~ Person A is touch starved but doesn't know how to reach out to Person B ~

Well. A few notes before we can continue. This includes a little bit of a time jump, I might go and fill in some gaps but I think it passes. Also, we took a hard right into Smutsville. Lastly, the last bit seems a little iffy but my tired brain can't look at it anymore but I think I got there in the end. Thanks so much for reading, I love how much you guys are loving this au.

CW: smut, swearing, secondhand embarrassment

The Sweetest Promise Masterlist

~~~~~

They had spent the day together. Forest Fae has held another event and although Aelin’s presence wasn’t mandatory for this one, Rowan had asked her to come anyway just because he wanted company. Yes, he’d received a massive figurative thumbs up from his boss for taking the initiative this time. But it was more than that. It was becoming clear to Rowan the more time he spent with Aelin through their arrangement, the more time he wanted to.

It had been nearly four months since that first panicked, desperate night and since then they’d seen each other every week. They had started with an official weekly date, and then once that initial awkwardness was over Rowan had very casually asked if Aelin wanted to go out here and there. She had said yes, and he added money to her account accordingly. So it was once a week minimum, more if he played his cards right, but Aelin always seemed up for whatever he was offering. Even though he was her Sugar Daddy, Rowan could comfortably say they were friends now as well, all thanks to Aelin’s undeterred determination. It had been a pleasure getting to know her and being forcibly dragged back into a state of sociability. He was stubborn and he wouldn’t openly admit to it, but it had been good for him. And so had Aelin.

She didn’t put up with his brooding or old man grumpiness, as she liked to call it. Aelin would find a way to draw him out in a way that Rowan would barely notice what she was doing. A playful argument would start up or she’d find some obscure topic of conversation that would have him laughing. Rowan was again starting to see that there was a world outside his office, and it was worth living in.

Today’s event was a small expo held for investors and promotional influencers. The powers to be had invited Rowan so that he could see every facet of the company and to get his advice later on some legal matters. If Aelin hadn't come he would have spent most of his day bored out of his mind as he watched adults and children inspect the toys on offer. Instead he had Aelin participating in demonstrations or playing with the toys, making conversation and jokes which made the day not just bearable, but enjoyable. All day she had walked through the expo with something Rowan could closely describe as childlike wonder. Despite everything on display, he hasn’t been able to look away from her.

Now they were back at his place, curled up on the couch. Rowan was watching TV and Aelin was reading some article for her thesis. It wasn’t the first time she’d been here, Rowan had asked her over a few times just to hang out when he had some work to do and couldn’t be bothered to go out. It was all under the guise of their arrangement, but it was just loneliness striking again. Aelin didn’t seem to mind though, she admitted that she’d been struggling to get out herself and the change of scenery was nice. The dinner he ordered in was also an added bonus, just slightly above the pleasure of his company according to her.

Aelin’s head was resting on his thigh and she had an arm stretched up, leaning on his, as her hand twisted idle patterns in the air. She would think nothing of the way she was touching him. She’d been doing it all day, just small casual touches that just seemed to be part of her nature. Aelin would hold his hand to lead him somewhere or grab his arm when she saw something that excited her. Rowan had come to realise that Aelin was very much a physical person. What she didn’t know, that given the right circumstances so was he. He hadn’t shied away from her today, or any other day, and had even started to reciprocate. Their first evening together they’d been nearly inseparable to sell the piece. Touching was becoming a casual and comfortable exchange. Sometimes it was only the brush of a hand or their shoulders bumping. Each time it gave Rowan just that little bit of a thrill, which was more than slightly embarrassing. He looked forward to the physical closeness Aelin’s company came with. Because the sad truth of it was that he was touch starved.

He hadn’t had a serious relationship in years, and flings were few and far between. It had been at least 11 months since he’d fucked someone. Rowan’s dedication to his work just didn’t allow him the time to invest the effort that it would take for him to pursue someone. Relationships were tedious, it was probably why he was holding on so tight to this no strings attached arrangement with Aelin. But it certainly left him… lacking in some regards.

There was a groan from Aelin, breaking Rowan out of his humiliating thoughts. She’d dropped the pages she was reading on her chest and used her now free hand to flick out her hair that evidently got caught somewhere. It made her golden hair fan out across Rowan’s lap and hands, and before he knew what was happening his fingers were playing in the ends of it. It was so soft and silky, he had no idea how Aelin got it to feel like this. When his brain finally caught up with him he dropped the strands, berating himself for presuming he could do such a thing.

“I don’t mind,” Aelin said, not looking away from the paper she had picked back up. “I like my hair being played with.”

“Yeah?” Rowan questioned lamely.

The corner of Aelin’s mouth twitched up in amusement over his awkwardness. “Yeah.”

Tentatively Rowan started up again, just flicking through the ends, but then he got braver. He twirled a lock around his finger, watching as the light caught the subtle tones in the gold. Next he carved out a section, split it into three and wove it into a simple braid. To his surprise the arm that Aelin rested against him twisted and he felt the tips of her fingers run through his hair. It nearly made him jump, and he definitely stiffened which he hoped Aelin didn’t notice. Of course, nothing got past her and she did.

Aelin looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. “You don’t like it?”

“I do,” Rowan said quickly. “Just… unexpected.”

“So, I can keep going?” Aelin asked and he just nodded.

For a while they played with each other’s hair, and Rowan turned his attention back to the TV. He just twirled the same lock round and round, finding the repetition calming. Then Aelin stopped playing with his hair and the article she had been reading was unceremoniously tossed on the floor. Before Rowan could even question what Ashe was doing Aelin had reached her arms above her head, back arching as she stretched.

She was halfway across his lap now and it was hard not to watch. Aelin was wearing a sundress with the neckline cut in a deep V. During the expo she was wearing a light sweater over the top but his apartment had been warm enough that she’d discarded it. With the thinness of the straps it was quickly apparent Aelin wasn’t wearing a bra. And now draped across his lap it was a fact impossible to ignore.

The cut of the dress showed the curves of the breasts, low and deep. As Aelin twisted a just a little, the dress shifted, revealing more, pulling across her chest and—

Rowan snapped his eyes shut. Aelin was in danger of a serious wardrobe malfunction and he’d already witnessed too much. It was making things difficult for him—there was a lot of blood rushing south and he was half hard. He tried to block all the images he’d just seen and then Aelin went and put the final nail in his despicable coffin. He felt her shudder, and then she moaned. The only way he could describe it was pornographic.

He was in serious trouble now.

Aelin settled back on the couch and Rowan deemed it safe to open his eyes. He had a situation going on and he wanted to make sure it was taken care of before Aelin noticed. Rowan was cursing himself for deciding to change into something more comfortable because his sweatpants were hiding absolutely nothing. He felt like a teenager, but this was even more embarrassing because he’d done nothing but play with her hair. The first real luck of his day struck because there was a pillow tucked right next to him. He yanked it out from between his thigh and the couch and nearly jammed it into his lap.

Then that luck flipped on him again as the pillow bounced on the top of Aelin’s head, drawing her attention. “You right?”

Rowan was sure his cheeks were flaming. “Ah, thought this would be more comfortable than my thigh.”

“Thanks,” Aelin said, shifting up a little so that she could lay her head on the pillow properly.

All that did was move her further into his lap and presented Rowan with a conflict of where to put his arm. He could drape it along the back of the couch but with the furniture flush against the wall there wasn’t really that much room. And there was even less room between their bodies and the cushions. The only valid and comfortable option was draping it over Aelin.

Rowan very stiffly rested his arm on Aelin’s waist, deeming that the safest spot. He also made a point of not looking at her once his arm was situated. From this angle Aelin’s cleavage looked fantastic and neither that sight or thought was helping the hard-on the pillow was covering. It seemed Aelin didn’t mind the position of his arm in the slightest, in fact she went as far as to rest her arm on top of his. Rowan tried to focus on the TV as a distraction and he might have succeeded if she didn’t start running her fingers over his skin, the tickling sensation making him break out in goosebumps. Her hand went back and forth, soothing but at the same time almost tantalising. It was doing nothing to calm the hardness of his cock, the only thing that would help him in that regard was if Aelin moved to the other end of the couch and didn’t touch, speak or look at him for 10 minutes straight.

Then out of nowhere Aelin dragged her nails down the length of her arm, the surprise of it so sudden Rowan couldn’t help his reaction. His whole body shuddered, his hips jerking up just enough to jostle the woman in his lap. There was no way in every hell that ever existed that Aelin hadn’t noticed his response this time.

Rowan stared at the screen in front of him so intently he’s eyes were stinging. Holy gods, this was embarrassing. He hadn’t had sex in months, and this combination of being touch starved and horny was fatal.

“Rowan.” He could hear the godsdamned smile in Aelin’s voice.

“Yes,” he managed to get out, still refusing to look at her.

“Are you okay?”

He had to look down, not doing so would be rude and highly suspicious. “Fine.”

Aelin sat up, her stunning eyes giving him a once over. “You just seem a little stiff.”

Rowan tensed, praying she hadn’t meant the pun.

“Do you mind if I take this pillow?” She asked a little too innocently.

As Aelin reached for the pillow that was his lifeline Rowan’s hand smacked right on top of it, hard enough it made him groan. Despite obvious and ongoing hardships she laughed at him.

“Do you have a boner right now?” Each word tilted with her laughter.

“Maybe,” was all Rowan could admit to.

Aelin giggled, and even that was turning him on now his blood was heated. All Rowan wanted to do right now was die.

When she could, Aelin cleared her throat to try a calm banish her amusement. “When you went out with your parents you mentioned that it had been a while. How long are we talking?”

In the name of friendship and to hopefully end his misery Rowan answered. “Nearly a year.”

Aelin at out a low whistle. “That’s impressive, but I’m looking at over a year.”

The answer surprised him enough that he was ready to make eye contact. “No way.”

“Haven’t quite had the time to pursue anything, and college boys are idiots,” Aelin said.

Having been a college boy himself, Rowan was inclined to agree.

“Like, I’m not talking going that long without an orgasm of course,” Aelin said, and Rowan nearly choked at the conversation shift. “But in the end it just becomes an itch to scratch, you know what I mean?”

The pause was long enough that Rowan realised that Aelin was waiting for an answer, and given her candidness he might as well answer honestly. “Yeah I do.”

“It’s just not the same,” Aelin said forlornly.

It wasn’t. Rowan had been stuck with his hand and fantasies long enough that he acutely understood everything Aelin was saying.

Aelin was smiling again and Rowan braced himself. “Just a few touches and you’re resorting to a pillow. You must be desperate.”

“You could say that,” Rowan said.

“You might even say you’re feeling a little touch starved.” As Aelin spoke she reached out and ran a finger from the corner of his jaw and down his neck. It took immense amounts of self control, but Rowan managed to suppress his shiver.

“Now you’re just teasing,” he deflected, not wanting to admit to the obvious.

“We’re friends, right?”

Aelin hadn’t taken her hand off from where it rested on his shoulder, and Rowan chose that path to follow as he looked up to her face. “We are.”

“I mean… it’s obvious you find me attractive.” There was a pointed look down at his crotch. “We could scratch that itch together.”

That was one offer Rowan was not expecting to get and he couldn’t find the words for a solid thirty seconds and even then it wasn’t much. “Um, what?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Aelin asked directly. “You’re in quite the predicament and I am very willing to help. Because I find you very attractive too.”

There it was, laid out plain and simple. And that little compliment at the end was just the icing on the cake. There was mutual attraction between them, and they were both consenting adults. What was stopping them if they were both willing?

“Just an itch to scratch?” Rowan reiterated.

This time when Aelin reached for the pillow Rowan didn’t stop her. “I’ve been wanting to scratch it for so long.”

The pillow was gone and then Aelin was throwing a leg over his thighs. Her hands were on his shoulder, bracing her above him. Rowan shifted a little to accommodate, the nearness of Aelin already so intoxicating.

“If you’re sure,” Rowan said, looking for any signs of hesitation.

There was none, and Aelin just gave him a coy grin. “I’m sure.”

She dropped into his lap, making Rowan groan at the friction. Aelin gasped as she rolled her hips up the length of him. Once they both recovered from that first contact they looked at each other, the air tight with tension. They could still back out, things hadn’t gone too far. By the gods, Rowan didn’t want to, but one word from Aelin and he’d stop.

Then Aelin banished every thought of that when she crashed her lips with his.

Rowan responded immediately, the kiss becoming hungry and impatient in a heartbeat. His hands went to Aelin’s waist, helping her grind on him. He could feel the heat of her and it was enough for him to throw caution to the wind. Rowan’s hands slid up Aelin’s back, urging her down harder and closer, letting him kiss down her neck. Aelin moaned into his ear, making his cock twitch and drawing another sinful sound from her lips. Then his hands were in her hair, angling her head to just the way he liked. She liked it too, the pace of her hips quickened. Rowan needed to feel her, his hands left her hair and gripped her waist, then travelled upwards. When he cupped one of her breasts in his hands Aelin whimpered, the sound getting lost in the kiss. Then he teased her through the layers of the dress, his thumb pressing down as it dragged over the tight peak he could only just feel. That was Aelin’s undoing.

“Pants, now,” Aelin outright commanded and Rowan was all too eager to obey.

She shuffled back so that Rowan could tug his pants and underwear down enough to free him. Aelin’s gaze dropped to his cock, boosting his ego as her eyes widened. But she didn’t say anything, only stroked him lightly with the tips of her fingers before her hand drifted under the skirt of her dress. Rowan had a fair idea of what she was doing, and that was confirmed when she moved right over him, lowering herself enough that the head of him nudged at her bare entrance.

Rowan moved his hands so that he could position her just right, but Aelin stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Mm-mmm, I’m calling the shots today.”

The words sunk in and Rowan's mind just about short circuited. Aelin’s dominance was unexpected, but he was into it. He was more than willing to hand over control to her, he’d give her anything if it meant he could feel her wrapped around him. Aelin shifted her hips and Rowan stayed completely still. She had the audacity to wink at him before she sunk onto him, all of him.

Rowan's head fell back at the feeling, thudding against the wall. But that small hurt was nothing compared to the feeling of Aelin’s tight heat enveloping him. She felt amazing—perfect. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last.

“Gods, Rowan,” Aelin groaned, making him open his eyes.

Her chest was heaving and her cheeks were flushed, and Rowan wanted to kiss her again. But something in her eyes told him to wait, and Rowan thanked the gods he did.

Aelin shrugged one thin strap off her shoulder, pulling it past her elbow, and did the same with the other. Rowan’s gaze dropped, his eyes taking in the expanse of skin that had been teasing him earlier. Her dusty pink nipples were taut, and the way Aelin arched towards him was the perfect invitation. Rowan ran a knuckle of the peak of her left breast and his mouth descended on the other.

He sucked and flicked his tongue over her nipple, and that had Aelin’s hands diving into his hair—keeping him right where he was. Not that Rowan wanted to go anywhere, not when his ministrations made her hips grind on him like that.

Rowan kissed his way up to the swell of Aelin’s cleavage, cupping both breasts and catching her peaks between his thumbs and forefingers. It had Aelin gasping and riding him with abandon. He could feel pressure building at the base of his spine, his release cresting. It was too soon, he didn’t want this to be over so soon.

“Wait, Aelin. Slow down,” Rowan panted, hands regretfully slipping away from her chest.

Aelin did as he’d requested, her breathing heavy. But then she was grinning at him. “That long, huh?”

Rowan blushed furiously.

“Don’t worry,” Aelin said, cupping one of his burning cheeks. “I won’t last long either. Not when you feel this good.”

Aelin rolled her hips slowly, setting a lazy pace. It was the best kind of torture, it was enough to have his blood simmering but left him begging for more.

“Hands on my thighs, Rowan,” Aelin said. “And don’t you dare move them.”

He did as she said, sliding his hands from her knees and up under the dress that was fanned out over his lap. Once his hands were where she commanded she began moving just a little faster. Rowan hated that he couldn’t see everything, couldn’t see where he and Aelin were joined. And yet somehow, in these circumstances not seeing might have been just as hot.

Aelin moaned, causing a sudden jerk of his hips. “Good boy.”

Rowan tried not to laugh but he couldn’t help it.

“I played into it too much, didn’t I?” Aelin said through her own giggle.

“Maybe just a little,” Rowan admitted, leaning in to kiss her.

That was enough to get the fires burning again after the awkward interlude. Aelin’s tongue pushed into his mouth, then she nipped at his lips. It made Rowan thrust his hips, making Aelin moan deep from her throat. Then she broke the kiss and Rowan fucked up into her again, and that had her throwing her head back, her long hair tickling his thighs.

“You’re certainly not a boy, are you?” Aelin said, recovering enough that she could look at him. “A boy couldn’t make me feel like this.”

Rowan’s cock twitched at the praise. He was usually the one using dirty talk to his advantage, having the woman in his bed writhing and begging for more. This shook things up and Rowan was quickly becoming a major fan.

“You feel so good, Rowan,” Aelin gasped. “Filling me so well.”

He wanted to move his hands, and Aelin knew it. To stop them from wandering he had to grip her thighs harder. Aelin moaned his name again and it had his balls tightening. He wouldn’t last much longer.

Then Aelin smiled and echoed his thoughts. “You’re doing so well, just a little longer.”

Rowan was gone, this woman was unravelling him faster than anyone he’d been with before. Or it could just be because he hadn’t had sex in so long. But he had a sneaking suspicion it was the former. It was hard to deny when a woman this beautiful was in his lap, lips swollen from kissing, hair a mess from his fingers, tits bouncing with every well timed thrust.

“Aelin, I’m gonna—“ Rowan went to lift her off his lap so he wouldn’t come inside her.

Her hand slammed onto the wall beside his head. It braced her enough that it kept her in his lap, had her grinding down on his swollen cock.

“I’ve got you right where I need you,” Aelin told him.

“Aelin,” he ground out, the world around him was getting a little hazy but her voice cut through it all.

“I want you to,” her voice was husky and dragged over his skin. “I want you to come, Rowan. I need it.”

It was the plea in Aelin's voice that broke him, release rushing through him. She was right there with him as her inner walls tightened around him, intensifying every sensation. It was bliss—Rowan never wanted it to end.

When it did and Rowan’s mind cleared he found Aelin slumped against his chest with his arms wrapped around her. For a while they just sat there together, catching their breath and just basking in that post sex glow.

Aelin spoke first, still sounding a little breathless. “Itch sufficiently scratched.”

That made Rowan laugh. “You could say that.”

Sighing Aelin sat up. “Um, yeah so don’t worry. I’m on the pill. We probably should have covered that earlier.”

The change in subject was somewhat sobering. “All good, I trusted you.”

Rowan reached over and grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the small side table. They didn’t talk as they cleaned up and Aelin ducked off to the bathroom. The solitude gave Rowan a moment to process what had happened. This was certainly a huge jump from a friend Rowan paid to someone who—gods he didn’t know what to call it.

Aelin was… his sugar baby when you boiled it right down. Yes, they’d become friends of a sort. But had he gone and ruined it by giving in to Aelin’s suggestion? Had she done it out of some warped obligation? He had clearly asked if she was sure and she’d consented, but their arrangement was skewing the way he looked at it. There was something else, something he had been trying very hard to ignore and discredit, but he supposed he could thank the post orgasm clarity for the oncoming admission.

The attraction Rowan had towards Aelin went beyond the physical. Over the past few weeks it had been sneaking up on him when he realised how much he looked forward to seeing her and how quickly he checked his phone when a message from her came in. It was becoming apparent to him that he liked Aelin. Liked her in the kind of way that he wanted to ask her on a real date.

But… she needed his money. And there was zero guarantee she felt the same. If Rowan messed this up, gods knew who Aelin might end up with if she went and got herself another sugar daddy. Would she find herself in a similar situation that they had just found themselves in?

Rowan hated the thought, just the hint of it had bitter jealousy turning his gut. More than once she said she’d been very lucky to end up with him, her friend had apparently shared some horror stories. With him Aelin had security and safety. Why should he ruin that for her?

Footsteps announced her re-entrance to the room, dressed and looking far more put together than she had moments ago. “I don’t mean to fuck and run, but my supervisor wants a draft of my next argument point and I left my textbook back at my apartment.”

“Sounds riveting,” Rowan said, withholding his cringe at his lame response.

“It’s not, it’s a boring part and I’ve been procrastinating,” Aelin said. “So… see you next week?”

“Of course,” Rowan said with a smile.

Aelin nodded and gathered up her things. “Don’t get up, I’ll see myself out.” She was about to disappear into his entryway when she stopped. “And Rowan, thanks for the ride.”

The salacious wink Aelin gave him had Rowan laughing, how like her to smooth out an awkward situation. It was a skill Rowan didn’t possess and had to admire. He had to be honest with himself. If he were to even contemplate taking this further it might just get so awkward and uncomfortable there would be no recovery. Rowan decided that things were best left as they were, there was no reason to ruin what they had for what could turn out to just be a fleeting crush because Aelin was the first person to pay him any attention in gods knew how long. She’d described it as an itch to be scratched and they could leave it at just that. Complicating their relationship wouldn’t be worth anyone’s time.

~~~~~

Aelin managed to keep her freak out under control until she got inside her apartment. Very literally, just inside. She closed her front door with her back and just stayed leaning there, a hand over her mouth. What in Mala’s name has they done?

What had started as teasing had ended with Rowan’s dick buried so deep inside her she’d been ready to scream. She might of actually, her memory got a bit hazy in the middle there. Seeing him so riled up had flicked a switch in her brain and she had wanted him. It was clear the man needed to be touched, and he’d been so responsive to all those casual innocent caresses. The poor guy, she’d made him reach his breaking point.

The attraction between them was undeniable and if they were two consenting adults, why shouldn’t they have a bit of fun on the side? They were a walking cliche for Sugar and Sugar Baby arrangement after what they’d just done. But gods had it felt good.

That led Aelin to yet another conundrum. The issue of payment. Aelin had it written into her contract that if the date included sex there was a higher charge, all she had to do was tap one button and Rowan would get the bill. But did that mean the sex had to be prearranged? Did a spur of the moment ride on his expensive couch count? This was complicated and Aelin just needed to think.

She wandered off to her bedroom, rifling through her drawers for clothes to put on after her shower. They were friends, but they were also in a business arrangement. How awkward would it be if she sent through the sex charge? Rowan was her friend, she liked spending time with him, but this all started because he had hired her. They’d signed contracts and come to arrangements that suited them both. The fact they had ended up as friends in the end was an added bonus. Aelin stood there for a moment, clothes bundled in her hands. It shouldn’t be awkward. As a lawyer, there was no doubt in her mind that Rowan had each and every clause of the contract. He would have seen the details about the extra charges. For all Aelin knew was expecting it.

The sex was great, Aelin had enjoyed it. She hadn’t done it for the money but… money was always good. The more she thought about it the fewer reasons she was finding not to honour the extra charge. Aelin threw her clothes on the bed and pulled her phone out from the pocket of her dress. She opened Sweet As Sugar and sent through the payment request before she could think better of it.

There, it was done. Nothing to do about it now.

Her phone was exchanged for her clothes and she headed to her bathroom. Aelin couldn’t stop thinking about it—the way Rowan had felt inside her, the sounds he made, the touch of his hands on her body. For the first time after coming out of her dry spell it had been amazing. Fantastic. Spectacular. She could list adjectives all day and it still would aptly describe how fucking Rowan had felt. The itch was scratched, and then some.

And Aelin thought this might be an itch she wouldn’t mind scratching again.

~~~~~ well, that's where we're at. I had so much fun embarrassing the absolute hell out of Rowan

@rowaelinscourt

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