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babyleostuff · 2 months

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call me back

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!hoshi x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k

. . . fighting with you is never easy for hoshi. especially not when an ocean is separating you

was fighting over the last piece of cake stupid and immature? yes. did it feel like hoshi’s whole world was about to collapse when he noticed you ate it? double yes. while your boyfriend wasn’t known for his great patience and non-existent anger issues, he never took his anger out on you, no matter how frustrated and annoyed he was.

well - until last week.

hoshi came home tired and very, very hungry, nothing out of the ordinary, though you could clearly see he was a lot more agitated than usual, so you did what you always did when he came back exhausted like that - gave him space. you were just about to start your nighttime routine when you heard your name being yelled from the kitchen, and not in a happy “baby, my love, my darling, please come hereeee” kind of way.

you didn’t even get a chance to take a breath as you entered the kitchen, coming face to face with soonyoung and his angry pout. “where the fuck is my cake?” he asked, and now, a week later, his words were still echoing through his head.

it was never his intention to lash out at you like that. obviously. he was tired, and hungry, his muscles were aching, he felt like a bad boyfriend for spending so little time with you, and he forgot to buy a gift for his mom's birthday - not that it mattered, nothing could excuse him for being so mean to you. to make matters worse, instead of acting like a man and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, he chickened out and just left.

“man, why don’t you just don’t call her and apologise?” woozi sighed, throwing his head back because it had to be the tenth time he had to listen to hoshi’s story of how he decided to act like the biggest dick over an overpriced piece of a strawberry cake.

“i did but she’s not answering.”

“no shit, i wouldn’t have answered either.”

and that exactly was the biggest problem - it was hard enough to go through a fight while he was home, but now that he was overseas, a thousand kilometres away from you it was impossible. yes, he could send you flowers and shit, but it would only piss you off even more. there was no way for him to show you how truly fucking sorry he was.

“i know you’re angry with me right now, but please,” hoshi took in a shaky inhale. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so… sad. “please, just call me back,” that had to be the tenth voicemail he left you ever since he left home.

you, on the other hand, weren’t doing much better. you felt like slapping the shit out of him that night in your apartment, and although you were able to control your sudden surge of violence, you didn’t hold back on cursing him out after he left. you even thought about burning his side of the closet but if you did that you’d lose all of your favourite hoodies and flannels, so you gave up on that too.

after your short rage situation, you sat down at kitchen island, and stared at the empty plate where soonyoung’s cake was supposed to be. how were you supposed to know he’d act like that over a cake? obviously you wouldn’t have eaten it then. you figured your boyfriend must’ve had a really bad day at the rehearsals. the past couple of days were really harsh on him, and if you could you’d wrap him in bubble wrap, a couple of blankets, and cuddle the shit out of him for being so strong through all of this.

all of those excuses for him and still - you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his calls and texts, no matter how much listening to his voicemails broke your heart.

“so, um, i know we’re not talking but i’m just calling to tell you good morning. remember to eat, and um, have a great day, baby.”

the boys were slowly losing their patience too (seungcheol asked mingaho if he could share some of his calming tea) because a grumpy hoshi was never a fun hoshi, plus - they hated seeing their best friend constantly beating himself over your fight. there was something lacking without their performance team leader’s spark.

“should we just call her?” mingyu looked over at soonyoung, who was sitting by himself in the corner of the room. “he looks pathetic, moping around like that,” he snorted.

seungcheol groaned, banging his head on jeonghan's shoulder. as they started to get older he started to feel less like a leader but more like a therapist (he really thought about resigning the day seungkwan came whining about a love triangle he got himself into). “they are adults, they should figure it out between themselves.”

“oh come on, do we have to remind you what we had to do for you when you forgot about your girlfriend's birthday so she would forgive you?” mingyu snickered, and pulled out his phone.

you didn’t know what to expect when you saw mingyu’s picture flash over your phone screen. it definitely had something to do with your boyfriend, that much you gathered, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what he had to say. your boyfriend’s words really hurt you, and no matter how much you wanted to forgive him, you weren’t sure you could do it yet.

eventually, you clicked on the green button with a shaky finger. “yes?” you took a deep inhale and prepared yourself for whatever you were about to hear.

“okay, so you know exactly why i’m calling. your boyfriend looks like a kicked puppy, he stopped saying horanghae, he’s dressed all in black and he looks like he drank an entire bottle of soju. i mean, don't worry, he didn't do it because he would be reeling now, but you get what i mean. whatever happened between the two of you, give us back our hoshi."

"well, that was very tactful," you heard coups' voice in the background.

“can you shut up for one second?”

“no, in fact i can’t.”

“okay, boys, i don’t want to interrupt whatever is going on, but i really need to know if he’s doing as bad as you're saying.”

“bad” didn’t even come close to what hoshi was feeling. at this point he was so angry and frustrated at himself for acting like he acted, that seriously had to be one of his lowest points of his life achievements. now you were going to dump him, and he’d have to drown himself in soju, and grow a beard, and write a sad love song that he’d hear at the radio for the rest of his life, and-

there was no way you were calling him right now. and yet, “h-hello? babe?”

“no, the fucking pope,” he’d have to add a cabin in the woods to his list of what he’d do after you’d break up with him. “kwoon soonyoung, you have to be one of the most insufferable, impatient and immature people i know. all this because of a piece of cake? do you hear how childish that sounds?"

loud and clear, honey.

“that’s why i didn’t apologise in the first place. i immediately realised how fucking stupid i acted, and felt so ashamed of saying all of those awful things to you, and so i just left.”

you sighed defeated. you kind of anticipated him saying that - your boyfriend had a habit of doing things before thinking them over, and as much as you understood him being exhausted and overworked, you still couldn’t forget how small he made you feel that night.

“look, i really don’t want to fight, being away from you is hard enough, but…,” you ran a hand over your face. what were you supposed to do? you spent the last three nights on the couch because you couldn’t fall asleep in your shared bed, and there were so many times when you wanted to text him about the most unserious things that only he’d get, but you just couldn’t. “your words really hurt me.”

“i know, shit, i know, and i’m so fucking sorry. whatever i’ll say it won’t be enough, i should’ve apologised right away. fuck, your boyfriend is such a loser,” you heard him laugh, but it was not the usual soonyoung laugh that made the flowers bloom, and sun shine. “i understand if you want to take a break.”

“that’s the thing, i don’t want to take any breaks. i miss you so much. i miss talking to you every night, i miss our silly conversations, i miss getting my daily hoshi boyfriend pics. i’m sick of seeing your face on twitter and not over face time,” you pulled the sleeve of his sweater over your hand, like it would make you feel any closer to him. “let’s take it slow, maybe?”

you could swear you heard soonyoung exhale, “yes, yes, let’s do that. whatever you need, babe,” he said immediately. “my poor baby must’ve been so nervous.”

“i love you, you know,” you whispered. there was no point in making things worse and pretending that you didn't miss him, and even though it would probably be a while before everything went back to normal, you didn't want him to doubt whether you still loved him as much as you did before.

“i love you too. very much,” he whispered back, finally sounding a bit happier. “and baby? thank you for calling me back.

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wannabeanotter · 4 days

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FUCK STICK (BOTTOM TO TOP; FUCKBOY/JOCK TF)

Fucking tops. It's Friday, nearly midnight and instead of dancing I'm stuck in the washroom at a gay club, hiding from some shithead.

"Tops, right?"

Next to me is a tall guy in a flannel shirt. He's pretty hot, but, urgh, he's the last thing I want to be thinking of right now.

"Yeah," I try to sound chatty, but it's clear I'm pretty annoyed "How did you know?"

He turns to me and crosses his arms, grinning, "Oh, you know. What happened? I bet you have loads of guys chasing after you"

It's true. I mean, look at this ass

"Urgh. This guy grabbed me from behind and started grinding against me. Can you believe it?? He didn't even ask, all I did was wink at him."

"Hmphh, you winked at him? Sounds like he was giving you what you wanted. You know, all you bottoms are the same. Needy. Demanding. Seeing real men as just dumb grunting animals. Maybe that guy was trying to do you a favour?"

I groan and turn around to leave "Oh, fuck you." Just what I need, another smug shithead.

He heckles me from behind. "God, twinks like you are so fucking lame. Maybe we're fed up of being nagged all the time?". He sounds kinda angry, but I ignore him, and roll my eyes.

"You know what, grab your dick."

I freeze, and my eyes go wide with shock. Why am I so shaken? That's not the worst thing I've heard at a club. I try to move but I can't, I just sputter, "Wh- what?? I'm not doing that"

He grins, "I'm not asking"

I feel something pull against my pants, but I look down and see it's my own arm

"WHAT THE FUCK! Are you... you're doing this?" My arm creeps down, playfully running my fingers over my tight stomach, and slips down through my waist band.

"Haha, yeah I am bro. So, bottom bottom bottom. What to do with you. What if I open your eyes a little?"

I, I start to shake. Something in me feels good. Beefy guys start to flash through my mind, and whatever's taken over my hand knows what it's doing down there. Athletes, wrestlers, big bulges in tight clothes...

"Here's the thing. There's enough brats like you around here bro. Someone's gotta do something. Think of it like, uh, giving back to the community."

The images in my mind start to change. The models get smaller, swapping out athletes for tight twinks in tighter shorts. Instead of biceps, I'm thinking of big, curvy asses, and my hand... I can't control myself. I wanna grab someone, anyone, and start grinding.

But then, one of my crushes slides by - Jason, a HUGE wrestler on my college team. Biggest pecs I have seen in my life. Thank fuck, finally, a real man. He looks at me with his big, brown eyes and oh my god, my heart flutters. I look up at him and in my mind I start to walk towards him

The guy in the flannels shirt is egging me on, "Go on, do it." How does he know what I'm thinking? Whatever.

I reach out, and Jason smiles. That big, goofy, handsome grin... and then he turns around. He gets down on the mats, on his hands and knees, raising his big, firm ass into the air. I'm looking right at it.

tumblr

I squirm. "Oh god. No. No no no no no"

"Uh, actually, yes." The guy in the washroom grins. "I want you to be a dumb, grunting animal, you will do that for me. Are you starting to understand?"

I lean down over the sink, but in my fantasy I fall against Jason. I hold him tight, pinning his big sweaty form down against the mats. At first, there's barely anything I can do to control him - he's WAY bigger than me, but soon I start to feel... bolder. Firmer. He tries to roll me over, but I slip my arm around his shoulder and a vein pops up over my bicep. My legs strain and my glutes start to stretch. Fuck, my whole body is throbbing.

I grunt, and slam him downwards, which gives moment to catch my breathe. Does he feel less sweaty? I wipe my forehead. Wait, am I more sweaty?

"Yeah bro. I know what you're thinking, I know how much you love guys after they've worked out. Damp clothes, that manly smell... it's exactly what every bottom wants these days. Now it's yours"

We twist around each other, and I reach my arms across his body. Wait, all the way around? His shoulders have gotten smaller, thinner... twinkier. And, well, mine are the opposite. He lunges, but I grapple him. All the mass has gone from his legs, meanwhile, my biceps are big enough to crack a skull.

"I want to make you a real fuckboy, you know? Someone who just thinks with his dick. Gym, sex, gym, sex, gym, sex... I want you to always be turned on, I want it to control you, I want you to never get a break."

I've got him, firm between my legs. Jason's tiny now, the same size I was 2 minutes ago, and I start to grind my bulge against his soft, bubbly ass. Fuck. Fuck! It's so good. This is the best fantasy I've ever had in my life. I want to fuck him so bad.

My whole body is throbbing, shaking. Blood is pulsing through my, through my everything. Fuuuuuck. I feel almost dizzy. Everything about this almost feels real. I go to lift up my shirt, but it's gone, and I run my other hand over my stomach. It's like I can really feel the abs

I cum. Oh my god, did I just cum in a... a washroom at a night club? And, I was thinking about topping a guy??

"Ahem". I turn to stare at the guy next to me. He looks pleased with himself. Very pleased.

"There bro! How do you look?"

I look in the mirror, and it hits me like a fucking brick. My body... my clothes. Oh my god, everything's gone. THAT WAS REAL? I look like some stupid fuckboy. Am I a stupid fuckboy? Is that a JOCKSTRAP? My jeans are gone, now just a pair of shorts. Very short shorts. Is that it? Is that all I'm wearing? Over the top of my huge pecs I see my converses are gone too, swapped out for some worn down gym shoes.

This can't be real. If it is, my boyfriend is 100% going to break up with me. How do I even explain this? That I'm like, ripped now? No, wait... that's not it. I try to imagine him topping me but, but, fuck, it feels so gross. A total turnoff

"Of course you don't want to let him top you. You're not a bottom anymore... that's kind of the whole point."

But he would never let me top him. But maybe we don't need to have sex for a while. That wouldn't be so bad, would it...

"AHAHAHA, sorry, with your new sex drive? What part of a fucking animal don't you understand"

There's no way he would want to stay with a horny fuckboy, but, but...

what if I am a stupid fuckboy? I'm already thinking of a nice, tight twink. I'm not that interested in him anyway - he's too tall, too beefy. All the guys I saw earlier are racing through my head. The skinny guy I danced with with the great ass, that cute short one by the bar... urgh, he had those perfect legs, that cute crop top, tight stomach... I bite my lower lip and reach down...

"NO!!"

I start hyperventilating. "This isn't me. I'm not a jock, I am ABSOLUTELY not a top. And," I lift up my arm, "there's no way I actually smell like this"

He laughs, like he's having the fucking time of his life. Maybe he is. "HAHA, sorry dude, yeah you do. And, yeah, you are. Think of that fuck stick like a gift, not just to you, but also to every cute boy you see on grindr. You'll get used to it, trust me"

His words flood my head... I imagine scrolling through the app in bed later, looking at the sea of boys all desperate for me... I reach down again...

"NO! Fuck! Make it stop. Why are you doing this to me?!!"

He pauses for a moment, then sighs and shakes his head. His expression... he's looking at me like he thinks I'm stupid. Does he think I'm stupid? No way - this motherfucker!

"Really? I know I fried a few wires up there dude, but you cannot seriously be asking that. Why do you think I'm doing it?"

"I - I..." I can't find any words. I really don't know. I just don't fucking get it. He's ruining my body, my LIFE, and for what? Fun? Revenge?

But he laughs, and looks at me. I'd think he was being pitiful if he wasn't grinning so fucking hard.

"Bro," he says, "I'm doing this because I think it's hot."

My heart sinks. "You're doing this because, because it fucking turns you on? Don't you give a shit about me at ALL?? I'm going to lose my boyfriend, I'm trapped in this horny, sweaty, disgusting body..."

"Just stop complaining. You know, so what if you don't get in a say in this! Sometimes you just gotta take what life gives you, and right now that's a huge fucking cock"

I feel like I'm about to burst out crying. He grabs my new, boyish face, and pulls it up towards his. "So, yah! Glad I could clear that up," he laughs, "Look, ok, this isn't gonna work if you're gonna be such a fucking loser about it. It's also not gonna work out if you don't work out - you gotta be going to the gym from now on. Those biceps, those pecs... you're chiseled like a statue and I'm not gonna let those new muscles go to waste. You need to be in there DAILY."

He gives my cheeks a squeeze, then lets me go. I clutch my face. It feels different, unfamiliar. Am I crying?

"URGH, bro, will you just quit looking at me like that. Puppy dog eyes, I shouldn't have made you so fucking handsome... Look, I'm gonna give you one last chance, ok: cheer up, right fucking now, or else I'm gonna have to do some rewiring. Right now, all your decisions are being made up there", he flicks my forehead, and then he smirks and grabs my crotch. "But, if I flick the switch, this guy gets to do all the thinking. You'll be so dumb, so horny, HAH, you'll be drooling over your own dick. A real fucking animal. Got it?"

If I don't get a grip, it's over for me. But what do I do? I gulp, and try to swallow my tears. I wash my face a little in the sink. He stares down at me, and the two of us stand in silence. It feels like forever, but it must have been just a minute.

I look up at him, and let out a squeak. "Yeah. You're right. I got it"

"No." he says "I don't think you do."

Damnnnnn, look at these pecs. Fuck, what was I doing? Whatever, I gotta get back out there. See if that blonde guy by the bar is taken. Just thinking of him and his ass makes me wanna... I grab my crotch, and let out a moan.

Wait, is that cum? Yoo how did I not realise. I clean myself up and slide my waistband back over my jockstrap, letting it snap into place against my cum gutters. I flex, and light shines off my glistening, sweaty muscles - if someone were to see me now, they'd think I was a greek statue. These strong, firm thighs, the perfect curve of my glutes... these shoulders look like they were made by fucking Michelangelo.

Nah, I'm way better than that. A statue doesn't have a dick. See you at the club, bro

#jock tf #bottom to top #twink to jock tf

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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Hello there! I was wondering if you would be down to do a Joel smut where he’s a bit insecure about his body (maybe he’s older than the reader? Scars?) but the reader wants to praise him anyway? (Praise kink? Idk how to write smut tbh)

hey! I love this idea, Joel deserves a little TLC for sure :)

All Yours - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

Joel has been distancing himself from her, and she's worried he's found someone else. When she discovers the real reason he's been so cold, she shows him just how much she cares for him.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, angst, age gap, insecure!Joel :(( but then fluff yay

..............................

Joel Miller is acting strange, and it’s starting to freak her out. It had started out subtle, since they had settled in Jackson. They had never before had the luxury of sex that wasn’t fully clothed, frantic, one eye always checking for danger. But now, with a whole bed to themselves, Joel still refused to undress, instead overwhelming her with affection, his loose belt buckle and the buttons of his flannel shirts digging into her bare skin as he fucked her. She didn’t make anything of it at first, but after two months of it continuing, she was starting to get frustrated.

Her frustration bloomed into worry when it began to escalate, Joel pulling away altogether. He started picking up odd hours for patrol shifts, coming home so late she’d barely feel him slipping into bed, long pulled under by sleep. And by the time she woke up in the morning, he’d already be gone. He was never around, she and Ellie had even started to grimly joke that the old man was always “away on business,” but really, her heart was starting to break the longer it went on.

She is starting to resign herself to the reality that maybe Joel has gotten tired of her. After all, the only thing that had brought them together was the forced closeness of hauling Ellie across the country, and now that they’re settled in a town with plenty of pretty women – women closer to his own age, her mind cruelly adds – she can’t blame him for not wanting to be tied down.

She feels listless in this limbo he keeps her in. He hasn’t really touched her in weeks, but he still hasn’t said anything. When he does come home and leaves a faint kiss on her forehead, she almost wishes he’d just put her out of her misery already, tell her that it’s over, that he’s letting her go, that there’s someone else. Almost. But the truth is, she loves him, probably too much for her own good. She’s not sure if she could ever let go, and it makes her angry as hell.

Letting go starts to feel like a possibility during her next patrol shift. She has been partnered up with a young man named Mason. He’s funny and friendly, a warm smile with dimples that could’ve landed him on the front page of a magazine back before. And he seems to like her, lobbing fluffy compliments and jokes her way, brushing touches to her arms.

When they get back to town that afternoon, he helps her dismount, firm hands on her hips that linger as she hops down. They share a small smile as Mason walks away, but hers quickly dissolves when she turns around and sees Joel fixing her with a look that she can’t quite place, his eyes squinting, lips pursed. Before she can move toward him, he’s already turning heel and sauntering off, another piece of her heart cracking at the sight.

…

She stays at the stables, helping out for the rest of the afternoon, her mind a haze as it replays Joel’s steely expression. She figures he won’t be home by the time she gets back to their place, and she tiredly trudges upstairs in need of a shower and another hard night of sleep. It’s such a shock to see him sitting on the edge of their bed that she actually lets out a yelp when she walks into their room, his head whipping up to look at her.

“Wha– what’re you doing home? Don’t you have a shift?” Joel huffs at her question, his chest puffing up a little as he furrows his brow at her.

“Why? You bringing Mason home?” It’s like a punch to her gut, and all she can do is let out a breathy laugh of disbelief.

“Oh no. You don’t get to do that, Joel.”

“Do what?”

“Be jealous – over nothing, I might add – not after you haven’t so much as looked at me in months.” He presses his lips into a thin line, his eyes darting away from hers, making her sigh.

“Joel– would you just talk to me, please? I feel like– like you don’t want me anymore.” His eyes flash to hers at that.

“You know that’s not true.” She huffs.

“Do I? It’s kinda hard to believe anything else. You barely talk to me anymore. And I can only hang around so long when it’s clear you’re no longer looking my way.” He gets up and takes one stride to stand in front of her. His hands flex by his sides and she wills him to just reach out, but when he doesn’t, she lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Christ, you’re making it pretty obvious, Joel. You won’t even touch me. I just– I can’t–” He finally reaches out, his hands cupping her jaw, effectively silencing her. She curls her own hands around his wrists as he stares at her.

“That’s not what this is about. I’m not– I always want you. Don’t want anyone else.” She huffs, her heart still kicking up at his words.

“Then what, Joel? Just tell me what it is, please.” He sighs, his eyes flickering down to her lips for just a beat before he’s pulling away from her to sit back down on the edge of the bed. She follows suit, the outside of their thighs pressing firmly against each other where they sit. When he speaks again, his voice is much quieter, hoarser.

“I don’t want you to be stuck with me.” Her head whips to the side to look at him, eyes widened in total confusion.

“What? Why would you even say something like that? It’s ridiculous.” Joel keeps his eyes fixed on his hands in his lap, his voice a low murmur as he speaks.

“It ain’t ridiculous. It’s true. You could have anyone you want in this town, and I’m– well, I’m old, and not what I once was. You don’t deserve to be stuck with me just because we were on the road together. I won’t do that to you.” She can’t believe the words leaving his mouth, and lets out an incredulous scoff. She’s a bit harsh in the way she grasps his jaw, forcing him to look at her.

“Is that seriously what you think? That I’m just stuck with you because we traveled together?” He doesn’t respond, but his silence speaks volumes, making her sigh at the wavering look on his face.

“Joel, I’m with you because I want to be with you. You should know better than most that I’m not one to stick around unless I have good reason to.” He huffs at that, shaking his head in her hold.

“You shouldn’t. Shouldn’t want to be with me. Should be with someone younger, someone better, someone–” She cuts him off with a quick kiss, leaving him with wide eyes and parted lips as she smirks at him.

“Has trying to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do ever worked out for you, Miller?” She sees his throat bob as he continues to stare at her and she can’t help but laugh. Relief floods through her system at the realization that Joel still wants her by his side, followed quickly by a weary adoration for this man who thinks so little of himself. She strokes her thumb along the scruff of his cheek and leans in for another kiss, letting this one deepen until it coaxes a low groan from his throat. She only pulls away when he’s good and breathless, resting her forehead against his.

“The next time you start having stupid ideas about this, about us, you come to me first, huh?” He nods lightly, chest heaving as her other hand splays over his heart.

“Alright– still think you’d be better off with someone else.” She quirks her brow at him, pulling him with her as she stands up. His hands come naturally to rest on her hips as she fixes him in place with a tilted grin.

“Can I show you what I think about that? About me being better off with someone else?” Joel is quiet, just a hint of a nod, but his hands are quick to grasp her wrists when she starts to work at the buttons of his shirt. She furrows her brow at him and he sighs.

“It’s just– I’m nothing to look at, darlin. A whole lot of scars and– you don’t have to– s’what I’m saying.” She feels her heart drop at his words, the truth finally settling in that this really is how low Joel thinks of himself. She presses kisses into his knuckles where they’re holding onto her wrists.

“I want to. Please let me see you, Joel.” He huffs, muscles still tensed, but he lets go of her wrists to let her continue her work. She could hear a pin drop, it’s so quiet as she undoes the last few buttons, dragging her palms back up to shrug his shirt down his arms, leaving his chest bare before her for the first time.

She stands still for a moment, her hands hovering over his skin, taking in the sight of him. There are scars littered over his skin, but there’s obvious strength woven with softness in the tan expanses of his torso, and it takes her breath away. He jolts slightly when she finally lays her palms over his chest. She grazes her fingers down his front before dipping back up as she starts to walk around him, hands dragging up over his shoulders to rest on the broad expanse of his back.

“You’re perfect, Joel Miller. Could look at you all day.” She seals her words with a smear of kisses pressed between his shoulder blades, smiling at the shudder she feels run through him. He grumbles, craning his neck back to catch a glimpse of her.

“Bet you say that to all the boys, huh?” She laughs as she circles back around, leaving her palms splayed over his chest.

“Mm, nope. Just the one.” That earns her a flushed grin from him that she chases after with a hard kiss, their mouths opening to each other as she twines her arms around his neck, pressing in close to his chest. The warmth radiating from him makes her dizzy, a sensation that increases tenfold when he pulls back to coax her out of her own shirt, twining back together in a bare embrace.

She starts to shuffle them backwards until he topples back onto the bed with a small “oof,” taking her along with him as she straddles his thighs. He goes to roll them over, sitting up slightly and squeezing her hips, but she’s quick to press him back down to the bed with her palm in the middle of his chest.

“Uh-uh, Miller. I’m not done looking at you.” He grumbles, but it’s quickly turned into a sigh as she dips down to start leaving open-mouthed kisses across his chest, trailing lower and lower until she’s nosing along the waist of his jeans. Joel reaches out for her, firm palm coaxing her to look up at him.

“You don’t– don’t have to do that.” She huffs, grabbing his wrist and leaning back over him to pin his hand by his head.

“I want to. If you’ll let me, that is.” He’s looking at her like she’s crazy, pupils blown to make the swimming brown of his eyes look even darker. He finally scrunches his eyes shut, pressing his head back and letting out a breathy curse before looking at her again.

“Jesus christ– you’re asking if I’ll let you? Gonna fucking kill me– can have whatever you want, darlin. S’all yours.” She grins at that, pressing a few light kisses to his lips as she murmurs to him.

“Just relax, baby. Gonna make you feel so good.” With that, she trails back down his torso, nails grazing along his sides until her fingers land on his belt buckle and get to work. He huffs a bit when she gets off the bed entirely to unlace his boots and tug them off his feet. She just shoots him a look as she works.

“Wanna see all of you, Joel. Don’t pout.” He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he watches her shrug his jeans and boxers all the way off his legs. She’s never gotten him like this before, completely bare in front of her, and clearly under her control. It makes her mind go hazy for a moment, and she steadies herself by running her palms up the muscle of his thighs, kneeling back between his legs.

His flushed cock has smeared precum across the soft muscle of his belly, and he lets out a harsh sigh when she noses up the vein running along the underside, lips barely brushing the tip. He instinctively reaches for her, trying to thread his fingers through her hair, but she’s quick to catch him and pin his arms back to the bed, something he grunts at so petulantly that she can’t help but laugh.

“You’re teasing me, darlin.” She just smirks, laying a kiss to his pouted lips.

“Patience, Miller. I’m getting there. Just lay back and enjoy it, huh?” Before he can get a reply in, she’s dipping back down to lick a hot stripe up his cock, coaxing a low groan from him.

He’s big enough to make her jaw ache a little as she starts to take him into her mouth, but the sweet sighs and curses he’s letting out are enough encouragement to keep going. She alternates between bobbing down his length and laving her tongue over the tip, and from the way Joel is tugging his hands through his hair as he watches her with a crumpled brow, it seems to be the right combination.

“Fuck, darlin– gotta mouth on you, huh? Taking me so well– fucking christ.” She leans back slightly to spit into her palm, wrapping her hand around the base of him that she can’t quite reach with her mouth. She can’t take her eyes off him, the blooming flush spreading across his chest, the way the quick pink of his tongue keeps darting out to wet his lips, the muscles in his forearms jumping with the way he’s raking his fingers through his hair.

“So pretty like this, Joel. Never wanna stop looking at you.” He grumbles at that, covering his face with his forearm but she lifts up to tug his arm away, holding his chin to get him to look at her even as he huffs.

“Don’t think I’ve ever been called pretty before. That’s a new one.”

“I mean it. So pretty for me. Just for me, right?” She can see the bob of his throat as he nods in her grip.

“Just for you, darlin. Only for you.” That’s all she wanted to hear, needed to hear, and she presses another chaste kiss to his lips before lowering back between his legs and taking him back into her mouth.

She can feel his thighs flexing under her palms, a clear sign that he’s getting close coupled with the dissolving string of praises and curses leaving his lips.

“Fuck– you gotta stop or I’m gonna come.” She barely pulls off him, her lips still brushing his swollen tip as she grins up at him.

“That’s kinda the point, Miller.” She takes him into her mouth as far as she can, gagging lightly when his tip hits the back of her throat. Joel lets out a warbly moan, his voice cracking on a curse as he presses his head back into the sheets.

It’s not long before he’s tensing up hard, a broken chant of her name leaving his mouth as his warmth starts to pool in her mouth. She doesn’t pull away until the muscles in his thighs have relaxed, holding his hazy stare as she swallows his spend. Joel lets out another curse at the sight, chest still heaving.

“Never gonna stop replaying that in my head, fuck.” She laughs at his breathy words, crawling over him to lay down in the crook of his arm, her cheek resting over his heart. She lays a kiss between his collar bones before craning her neck up to press her lips to his, pulling away with a sweet smack.

“Are you done acting like a fucking fool now?” He huffs at her smug words, but the crooked smile threatening to spread across his face tells her all she needs to know.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting. Was just trying to give you an out.” She settles back into his chest with his arm wrapped around her, calloused palm brushing along her back.

“Well don’t. If anything, you’re stuck with me, Miller.” A deep laugh rumbles through his chest as he squeezes her a little closer.

“Don’t mind the sound of that, darlin.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou

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cosmictheo · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

(gif credits to @jdmorganz)

— summary: during a stormy night at bill and frank's house, joel teaches you how to hold your gun, and this opens up the perfect opportunity for the two of you to finally release all the feelings of longing and lust you've been repressed for each other over the past few weeks. —pairing: joel miller x female!reader —word count: 3.8k —warnings: just the reader and joel being horny and a complete slut for each other, some implied sexual scenes, age gap (reader is in her 20s), horny teaching on how to wield a gun, bill being the grumpy dad, frank being the nice dad<3

joel's playlist i made for inspo

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

He came walking into your life as if he already owned it. With that dark flannel, tight jeans around his thick thighs and a face as grumpy as Bill's, and that was saying too much. He looked like a fucking Greek god with his tanned face fucking glowing in the sunlight. It was his fifth visit in your shared house with Bill and Frank, and you wanted him just as much as the first time.

Frank had noticed how you had watched him the first time you had welcomed him into your home, eyes lingering long seconds to analyze his strong jaw, brown eyes, he was sure you would be taking him to your room at any moment, if the man would let you, something that was obviously effective, as he looked at you with the same goofy expression on his face, eyes glowing curious with desire. He shared a knowing look with his partner sitting next to him as they both analyzed the way you were taking longer than expected to pour more wine into Joel's already empty glass, his eyes watching you intently.

“Thank you, darlin'.” The pet name rolling throguh his tongue, in that tone of voice so low and husky that made you crack a smile, caramel eyes tracing a discreet path across the wide cleavage of your summer dress, trailing up your collarbones and neck, until they met yours, already set upon him, of course.

That interaction had been in your wettest dreams. You rarely dreamed, but Joel of course had to be the one to change that habit of yours.

And you could have sworn the reaction hadn't been much different for Joel's side, for you doubted he was dumb enough not to fall for the little games you'd been playing the last few weeks. No. He was a smart man. And he knew exactly what he was doing when he looked at you with that dark, longing gaze and brushed his fingers against yours 'accidentally'.

You were helpless, spinning around him― and he was ruthless, giving you just the right reasons to feel that way.

You pushed any over-lustful and delusional thoughts from your mind, taking a long sip of your wine, savoring the delicious bittersweet taste on your tongue and with it, trying to refocus again on the conversation taking place at the table.

Dinner had been indoors this time, as dark, angry clouds carpeted the usually bluish sky, their presence threatening to unleash a great storm at any moment now. And because of this, Frank was beginning to notice himself getting more worried by the hour.

“You really should stay in tonight, at least until the storm passes.” He proposed, setting his fork down beside his empty plate, friendly and sweet look traveling to the two guests you had at home.

Bill, sitting next to him, grunted, totally objecting against his partner's proposition, of course. “Frank.”

Joel finished drinking his own wine and then shared a glance with Tess sitting next to him, conversing telepathically, you guessed. Sometimes you were genuinely curious about the kind of relationship the two of them had, though you weren't sure if it could even be considered as such, since they only treated each other as friends, very close friends. Maybe they fucked on occasionally. Only they knew that, but the mere thought made your stomach twist.

Tess shook her head, offering you all one of her swift smiles. “We wouldn't want to intrude—”

You were quick to interrupt her, eyes wandering from Joel to her, fingers fiddling with the wine glass between them. Your face lit up as you offered her a reassuring smile.

“Bullshit. We won't sleep today knowing you guys are out there with that storm raging overhead.” Frank nodded, agreeing with you, giving a discreet nudge to Bill's side, who had just grumbled when he heard you were on Frank's side, obviously. “'Mid the rain it's hard to hear much more than your own footsteps.”

“She's right.” Joel muttered, looking at you for a few long seconds before turning to his companion, long, dark lashes smoothing his cheekbones as he blinked.

You drank the last sip of wine contained in the wine glass in your hand as you watched him intently, trying to decipher what was going through his head, analyzing the expression on his handsome face.

“Plus, it's going to get dark soon and that doesn't make the situation any better.” Frank added, trying to persuade them, always proving to have that huge heart he had. His eyebrows raised slightly as he noticed the defeated expression on Bill, him knowing too that he was right, as much as they didn't like the guests, they were Frank's friends, or the closest thing to it.

“Alright.” Tess finally replied, smiling sheepishly. “Thanks, guys.”

“No problem, honey.” Frank shook his hand gently, giving no further interest to the subject. And then he stood up, smiling sweetly at both guests. “I'll show you the guest rooms. You can choose the one you like the most, we have plenty of space.”

Tess followed him down the hall, thanking him again for allowing them to stay, making Frank laugh.

Bill stood up as well, grabbing his plate and Joel was quick to copy his action, but he dismissed him. “Leave it to me. (Y/N) will show you the way to your room.”

He gave you a knowing, warning look before turning his back on you and heading for the kitchen, you rolled your eyes at that.

Joel nodded his head softly, standing awkwardly as he watched Bill make his way towards the kitchen with a couple of dirty dishes in his hands. No more seconds had to pass before his eyes returned to you, still sitting in your seat, and already looking up at him. His gaze softened against yours and you felt the honey color of his orbs draw you to them like a never-ending pool, a caramel sea.

“I suppose you'll want to take a bath first, right?” You questioned looking up at him, batting your eyelashes, you noticed how the curve of his lips curved into a small smile, noticing your pretty big eyes focusing only on him. “I don't even want to think about since when you haven't washed your old ass.”

Joel let out a chuckle now, chest expanding against the fabric of his flannel and eyes softening so beautifully that you had the sudden urge to kiss every single mark on his skin. “Honestly, I don't want to think about that either.”

You offered him a sweet smile. “I can lend you some clothes if you want.”

“That would be great.” He nodded his head, returning the smile this time, a real smile. “Thank you, darlin'.”

And there was the pet name again. Goddamn.

His hands were hiding in the pockets of his jeans, a hint that let you knew that he was either nervous or uncomfortable, you weren't quite sure what it was, but your presence definitely caused a reaction in him.

“Follow me, cowboy.” You motioned with your head as you passed him, heading towards the stairs.

He heeded you instantly, steps hurrying to keep up with you, eyes scanning your body from behind, pausing for a few moments at the way your tight pants molded to the curve of your hips and ass, moving up your waist. He had never been jealous of an article of clothing until that moment.

He even imagined his hands running over your body, molding your waist the way your pants did throughout the shower he took, once you handed him a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt you wore to bed from time to time. The thoughts and fantasies of all the positions he wanted you in his mind made his shower go fast, too fast. He couldn't get you out of his head, Joel felt like he would go crazy at any moment.

And when he finally turned off the hot water and dried off, and got dressed in the clothes you had lent him, he had to close his eyes for a few moments, letting himself fall into the exquisite sweet scent that they were impregnated with. Your scent.

And the fact that he would be sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall had his head spinning.

Before passing in front of your room, he took a sigh, shaking his head lightly, in an attempt to push all the filthy thoughts away. He felt like a fucking pervert.

A smile rose to his lips as he peeked through the open door of your room, leaning against the threshold.

“Ain't that a pretty sight.” He grumbled in an amused tone, his forearm rising against the wood, eyes analyzing you as you fiddled with your small pistol, baggy polo shirt brushing a little lower than your bare thighs, loose hair falling down your shoulders.

A feeling of shame rose in his chest, feeling that he had intruded too much, for this was your territory, your personal space and he had simply barged in against the boundaries, a girl who was at least 20 years younger than him, but, it was also true that really, at that point, he wasn't thinking straight, he didn't see clearly anymore, he only saw you, the prettiest girl he had seen in decades, maybe in his whole life.

Your eyes fell on him on your door, allowing you a couple of seconds to admire how good he looked in the gray sweatpants, of course you had passed them to him on purpose and dear God, what a good view. His dark hair was still damp and a couple of gray locks were falling down his forehead, and due to the width of the shirt, you could see a tantalizing glimpse of his chest.

“My pajamas look better on you than on me, damn. That Strokes shirt? It totally fits you.” You commented in a joking tone, now taking the gun in your right hand and lowering it.

Joel rolled his eyes at your playful voice, already used to your jokes, which were usually directed at him in the last few weeks, having left your former spotlight on Bill behind, fortunately for him.

“Have you ever shot that thing in your life, kid?” A single eyebrow rose on his brow, him taking on that playful tone now, full of pure shared complicity, just the two of you.

“Not really.” You replied simply, eyeing the gun in your hand still and maintaining an innocent voice.

Joel hesitated for a few moments, but asked the question anyway. “Then how come you were out there all those months by yourself?”

His gaze was filled with curiosity and confusion, crossing his arms now. You thought he had done it completely on purpose and also that he had caught you ogling his flexing biceps, but he remained silent, waiting for your answer.

You just smiled. “I have my ways.”

And he knew what that meant, for any fool would give his life protecting you and defending you from any goddamned thing that threatened your well being if you claimed to stay by their side. And fools, there were many, as many as there used to be. He considered himself a fool too, in that case.

“Hm…” he hummed, not wanting to push you any further with questions about the past, "let me see your shooting stance then, smartass."

Curiosity rose on your pretty face at his words, but you heeded his command, grabbing the gun with both of your hands now and positioning your feet and legs as you assumed was a shooting stance, of course purposely misplacing it.

“You plan to shoot somethin' standin' up like that?” Joel questioned, analyzing you disapprovingly, but, his brown eyes sparkled with amusement. “Bill would really dislike to see you right now.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Bill dislikes looking at me at any time.”

“What are you talkin' about? The man adores you.” And who wouldn't? He wanted to have added. Joel sighed. “Stay right there.” Uncrossing his arms and making his way over to you, he finally entered your room, once and for all.

Your breath hitched as he positioned himself behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the beating of his heart in his chest and his warm, minty breath against your neck.

His hands went around your body while with one leg he gently spread yours as far apart as necessary. His fingers brushed against the skin of your arms as they lengthened, hands covering yours completely around the weapon now.

“Left squeezes down on the right, like this.” He guided you as he gave your hands a gentle squeeze under his, positioning them correctly. His breath brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke in a low tone so thick you felt it's vibrations throughout your body, your heart beginning to pound. “Take your finger off the trigger or you may cause a problem. You only put it on the trigger when you go to shoot, okay?”

“Okay.” Your lips quivered as did your voice, speaking almost as faintly as a tiny mouse.

“You need to bend over a little for me now, sweetheart.” He whispered against your ear, his southern accent making your heart skip a beat. “Arms outstretched, hands straight— that's it.” You remained silent, completely speechless, for the only thing that could ever come out of your throat would be a fucking whimper. Your body would melt at any moment against his.

Seeing that you maintained the correct position of your hands and arms, his hands now moved down to your waist, positioning your hips as they were meant to be.

“Your hips have to hold your whole body, keep them steady— firm, your feet too.” His little finger lightly brushed against the bare skin of your thigh as he moved your hips, making you exhale air through your teeth. “That's it, good girl.”

Under his palms he could feel the straps of your panties through the thin fabric of your shirt and the and the thrill and heat of it all rushed through his body, right down towards his crotch.

“Mhm… you're not half bad.” He opined taking in your entire posture now, lifting his head slightly over your shoulder, his hands venturing slowly up your waist, uncovering and molding every curve they traversed. His breath collided against your neck, giving you goosebumps. “You're not bad at all, kid.”

You swallowed saliva and dared to finally turn your head, meeting his face inches from yours. His nose had always struck you as one of the most attractive things about him, and seeing it from that angle it really was something else. You wondered what it would feel like to sit on it. Fucking hell.

Your eyes moved from his down his face, until they stopped on his lips, the mere image made you lick yours, half-opening them, almost able to taste them on your own.

He half-opened his mouth and you didn't have to look at his eyes to know he was hesitant, unsure, but, despite all the thousand emotions he felt, he stayed right there, hands clasping your waist, pulling you as close to his body as possible. Waiting for your next move. Probably thinking you'd slap him right there for being an old fucking creep, maybe you'd shoot him too.

But, what you actually did was lean closer to him, twisting your head in a not so comfortable and natural way, but which was certainly worth it once you joined your lips with his.

And it didn't take Joel more than a second to fall into what was really going on and adapt to it with pleasure, following your lips and closing his eyes with delight. His hands tightened around your waist, turning you in his arms so he could kiss you better, twisting his head slightly, nose brushing against yours in the movement.

Without even opening your eyes, you dropped the gun ;―completely empty, by the way― and your hands went up his chest, wrapping around his neck as you made him walk backwards, his back meeting the door, which at the force, closed until his back was pressed against it, with you secured firmly between his arms.

A breathy little moan climbed up your throat as Joel nibbled on your lower lip gently, breaking the kiss and allowing you both to catch your breaths. And he can swear that that little sound he got out of your mouth is how they receive him in heaven.

His eyes remained closed for a few more moments, still savoring your exquisite taste in his mouth.

One of his hands rested on your face, cradling your cheek, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone. His eyes, though dilated, were as soft as ever once he opened them again.

Joel sighed against your mouth, trying to catch his breath, calming all the lust that threatened to take over his whole body. “We really shouldn't.”

But the truth was that he did want to, he did want you, with all his body and soul, every part of him was screaming out pleas to just let himself be carried away by you, to let himself fall into your hands.

You looked up at him with big eyes, confused by his words and totally astonished by what had just happened, but shook your head lightly, your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling it still wet.

“You…” your voice sounded hesitant, face falling with sadness, perhaps disappointment well, “you don't want me?”

Joel felt his chest tighten as he saw fear peek through the beautiful look in your eyes and quickly rushed to reassure you. He would have laughed at how truly silly your words were, given the situation and how you practically had him melted between your hands, by just one damn kiss and your closeness.

“No, baby— of course I want you.” His fingers soothingly caressed your face, so delicately over your soft skin as if you were a doll, made of porcelain. You twisted your head, still confused by his sudden rejection, prompting him to explain further. “Of course I want you, you're the prettiest thing my eyes have ever seen, for God's sake. But we shouldn't… I couldn't do this to you.”

“Joel,” his name came so deliciously out of your mouth that he closed his eyes to hear it echo inside his head, trying to hold himself back, “I've waited so fucking long for this moment and now that I have it, I won't waste it just because of your old man antics.”

“It's not about antics,” he explained after twisting his head, raising his eyebrows at your words and usual sassy behavior, brown eyes opening, threatening to bathe you in their glistening caramel color. “I'm trying to make things right here.”

“If you're worried about the age difference, you're wrong, Joel.” Your fingers sank into his hair as you spoke to him in a soft tone, noting how his gaze had fallen back to your lips for a few moments. “There is no right and wrong in this world anymore, so... why should we held back?”

“You want this too?” He had the nerve to ask, voice low and raspy, tilting his head slightly so he could look at you. “You want me?”

If there was one thing Joel disliked and well, hated, it was intimacy, sharing his vulnerable side, letting his weaknesses show. He'd barely been lucky to do that with Tess, because they'd known each other for years. But with you… everything was different. He couldn't just fuck you and never talk to you again, he couldn't do that, because you simply weren't that to him. You were so much more than that.

“I'd let you fuck me all goddamn night, Joel Miller.” You answered him instantly and a hint of a smile rose at the corner of his lips at your words and the assurance you put into them. “So yeah, I've never in my damn life wanted anything so badly as I want you.”

“All night, huh?” He questioned in an amused tone, eyes analyzing every detail of your face, both hands were now on your face, fingers tracing nonexistent lines and patterns on your skin. “I don't know if my body can take that much back pain. My young days are far behind me now.”

“Then just lie back and let me ride you.”

Those were the words he just needed to hear before fucking avalanching against you, joining his lips with yours in a now, more passionate and exciting kiss. His hands cradled your jaw, keeping you close to him, right where he wanted to have you.

Your hands moved down from his neck to the edges of your shirt and Joel helped you pull it off your body, lustful eyes, eager to see your body without fabrics getting in the way.

“What about Bill and Frank? Tomorrow I want to leave this house without a bullet fired between my eyes.”

You smiled teasingly against his lips. “Relax, they already know. Smart-asses, remember?”

He was aware of the relationship you had with Bill and Frank, especially the former, for he had been the one who had found you in the first place, merciful enough to let you live and let you into his home. And well, who could say no to those big eyes and innocent, pretty face? Even Bill hadn't been able to fight against it.

“Right.” He answered breathlessly, not really having the slightest idea of what you had just said, as he was so intently concentrated on contemplating the magnificence of your body, completely enthralled, blurred mind and all. Suddenly, the sweatpants were too tight in his crotch area.

He was just taking the time he deserved to observe you in front of him, leaning up to leave kisses on your jaw, down your neck, past your shoulders. His hands moved up your waist, stopping under your breasts, his gaze moving up from them to you again, eyes as sweet as honey, but so dilated, darkened by lust and desire, eager for more of you.

In an instant you deduced what he was trying to say from his gaze and before he could even formulate any words, you stroked his cheek, thumb tracing his lower lip affectionately. “Just touch me Joel, please. I'm all yours.”

“Goddamn it.”

― — ―

Morning had arrived and the sun was shining high in the sky as if one of the most chaotic storms of the last few months had not passed just the night before.

“Good morning.” You greeted Bill, Frank and Tess sitting at the table, your hand clutching your coffee cup.

Joel was already seated as well and under Bill's frowning gaze, he gave you a short look, barely smiling in your direction as he took a sip of his own coffee, black and bitter of course.

“Mornin'.” You were greeted back by him, perching the cup on the side of his toast and giving you an affectionate look. You smiled back at him.

Tess looked at her partner with a raised eyebrow, noting the shared complicity in your interaction, as did Bill and Frank, of course, who shared a single knowing glance, Frank smiling and Bill with his lips as pursed as his brow.

You cleared your throat, taking in your hand one of the cookies you had baked with Bill the day before, trying to ignore the awkward silence that had suddenly formed.

“So…” Frank began to speak, tone playful, but face with feigned concern, “it really was rowdy last night, a lot of noise out there.”

Your eyes widened at his words, second meaning all too obvious to everyone. Joel took a long sip of his coffee once more, lowering his eyes to the surface of the table after running into Bill's watchful, almost killing gaze.

“Really loud storm.” Tess agreed with him, nodding her head slowly and bringing her cup to her mouth. Of course she would never stop teasing Joel about this.

“I hate the storm.” Bill mumbled with a displeased face.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x you #joel my beloved #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader

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justmywriting1313 · 1 month

Text

Stupid British Man (John Price x f!Reader)

This is fairly unfinished and an unedited product of my fixation on these stupid military man and every hurt/comfort scenario you can think of but nonetheless enjoy!

PS:- I would really really REALLY love some COD requests since thats where the inspiration for writing is flourishing soooooo yeah please send stuff in thank you<3

Summary: John's a great captain but like all men in love he is also a stupid british man!

Warnings: Talk and direct mentions of smexy times, no aftercare (but not intentional and will come in part 2)

Jonathan Price is a military man...

More than that, he is a captain and a military man...

A captain in the military needs to embody many qualities, one of the most important being the ability to remain strong and stable in the face of adversity, anchored and calm in uncertainty, and always aware of their surroundings, especially when confronted with unprecedented situations that demand logic and rationality.

It's a trait John was not only confident he possessed but one he prided himself on (considering he was the captain of three complete muppets at times). Yet, as he stands there in his flannel pajamas, his member still damp and somewhat aroused from the recent pounding he gave you not five minutes ago, a warm washcloth in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, John has never been more flabbergasted in his life as he watches you cutely jump to pull your leggings up over your waist.

You had already fastened your bra and were now pulling your old university shirt over your head, a shirt John had previously loved. However, given that he had finally slept with you after a two-month deployment, he would prefer to see you in his clothing or nothing at all. Therefore, the sight of the worn-out piece of cloth offended him, to say the least. Even more so, because neither of you had received a lick of aftercare and the lack of it was making him antsy. Instead of waiting for him in bed like you should have, you were rummaging through your duffel bag for something John couldn't be bothered to inquire about. He was certain that nothing was important enough for you to leave the sheets before he had a chance to clean you up properly. So, with as much calm as he could muster, he said,

"What on fuckin' earth are you doing?

The heavy, accented voice of the captain makes you jump as you straighten up, not having heard him come in. You whirl around to face the man you have been infatuated with since your first meeting, the same man who fulfilled so many of your fantasies over the last few hours and is now standing in the doorway of his room with a flabbergasted look about his rugged face. The tears you had been doing a good job of suppressing so far immediately reappear, though you were adamant about not letting them fall… God forbid you be known on base as the girl who cries after sex. Instead, you give him a smile before turning away as you begin to wrangle your hair into a ponytail and reply,

"What do you mean, what am I doing, John?"

John can only splutter at your nonchalant response, his brain having completely short-circuited… Clearly, something is lost in translation.

You only shrug at his shock before continuing to gather your spread-out things into your small bag, trying your best to curb the small, pathetic whimper that is bound to leave your lips if you spend any more time in this man's room surrounded by so much of him. Instead, in the heavy silence of the room, you mull over the events of what got you in his bed in the first place…

You and John met 8 months ago when you were brought onto his military base as a licensed psychologist specialising in psychotherapy for young adults. Your main job was to work with the younger recruits, which included the ones trained by John's own men. John can still recall the first time he saw you as you came barreling in through his door, your angry voice bouncing off the walls of his office. You were a small thing, barely reaching the bottom of the man's chest, with long hair and high cheekbones. You were dressed in leggings that flared at the bottom and drove John insane, with a striped sweater on top, your soft curves visible through the knitted material.

You were the most tender thing he had seen on base, and despite all this softness, you squared off against the military captain, demanding to speak to his lieutenant and give the man a piece of your mind for traumatizing your recruits more than any battlefield could. John had never been rash a day in his life, and yet he had promised himself he would make everything and anything to do with you a personal matter.

You, on the other hand, had not perceived the butterflies the older Brit gave you until the next day when he had come knocking on your door. Dressed in a tight shirt and his camo pants, he was every girl's dream. It didn't help the butterflies in your stomach when he looked down at you with soft eyes while properly introducing himself. He then led you to the rec room of his task force where his lieutenant was sitting and brooding.

Thus began eight long months… Months of teasing glances exchanged across busy meeting rooms that made him grin and you blush. Soft touches shared either against the back of your hand when you stood side by side or across your cheek as he tucked your hair back. Eight long months of late-night talks where he would seek you out, wherever you were, with a drink of your choice in his hand and an endearing look about him as he let you jabber about how you miss baking and he told you about his parents. Eight months spent with your heart in your mouth as you watched him leave with his team, a desperate prayer for his safety on your lips as he held you against him the night before, limbs tangled together innocently yet intimately. Eight months of yearning that would only grow stronger every time he came back, his eyes finding you in a sea of military personnel and lighting you on fire each time.

And despite all this wanting, two months ago, the night before he was sent out for the longest mission yet, you overheard him with Ghost in the rec room. The box of cupcakes you smuggled into the base held tightly as the tall, rough captain unknowingly broke your heart.

"You say professional sir but everyon' sees the way you look at 'er... the little medic..." "Don't know what you're talkin' about Simon..." Price chuckles and you assume Ghost gives him a look as John continues, "Hell even if I wanted to and I am no' saying I do, I cant do anything about it can I?... she's a kid AND she's military personnel" "Then the late nights in your office are what... just meetings to go over paperwork yeah? Just a little overtime is that it?" "Come on gotta pass the time between deployments somehow" "Is that so then mind if I tell Soap–"

Thats all you had the stomach to hear, although had you stuck around you would have heard the captain confess his love. Instead you made your way to his office where you left the box of baked goods on his table and fled to your room. You spent the night muffling your tears as you came to terms with what you were to John versus what John is to you... The following morning, as you waved some of your recruits bye, your eyes met John's hurt ones, his gaze heavy with questions about where you were last night but you looked away.

Unbeknownst to John his worst worry was coming true when the two months of his deployment gave you enough time to misunderstand your importance to him. That while John was the sun to you, you were a small star in a distant galaxy that had no hope of being anything more than that... And yet you knew you would take anything he gave you, no matter how much it would hurt.

Which is why when he knocked on your room door in the middle of the night, his hair still wet from the shower he had barely managed to squeeze in, eyes tired, lost, and desperate you didn't hesitate. You didn't hesitate when his arms went around your waist drawing you into his chest, head pressed into the crook of your neck as you pressed him into you. You didn't resist or clue him on the turbulence in your head when he pulled away although barely. His hands moving from gripping the back of your shirt to your waist, grip tight as he hefted you into the air forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. Any shock on your part absorbed by his mouth as his lips found yours, your hands coming to hold his face. The kiss was desperate, it was messy. A clash of tongue and teeth as he quickly took control. You hadn't stopped to think or really breath, instead letting John fill the crevices of your mind as he carried you through the empty hallways of the barracks. Somewhere in the back of your head you wondered how no one spotted you but you were quickly distracted by his hand on your ass which kept you pressed up against him. The other on the back of your neck never letting you pulling away long enough and following your mouth as you did so. You never stopped to spill the pent up hurt that had festered unknown to the man as you whimpered into his mouth when his fingers found just the right spot, his muttered praises only getting you to your finish faster...

Your little trip down memory lane as you stuffed another shirt into your bag gave John time to get over his shock, taking a deep breath as he placed the washcloth and bottle on his nightstand. His surprise was now replaced by a desire to fix the situation.

Another aspect of being a captain was observing people, learning to read the little things about how people behaved, and now that the shock had worn off, that's what John set about doing. He watched the tension in your back gather as you stuffed your things into your bag… mementos left over from other nights that John treasured. Things that he would be pulling out of the bag as soon as he had things sorted. He watched with narrowed eyes as your face got redder, the desperation with which you were trying to hold yourself together scaring him…

Something was wrong, and he had been so consumed by his need to see you, to feel you, to know that you were alright, that he didn't stop to consider how things had been left off… To remember that you never came to his room the night before he left and that you didn't look at him at the drop zone. John realized then that whatever had upset you that night had two months to fester in your mind and that he couldn't let you leave in any capacity before everything was laid out.

He shuffled his way over to your figure as you rummaged for your ID card in your bag, needing it to get back to your room. His large hands slid into place on either side of your waist. You jolted at the sensation, registering that his hands were warm while straightening up. John didn't let your tensing stop him as he gently turned you around, his grip turning a little forceful when you tried to resist, but eventually you gave in. Your splotchy cheeks and bitten lips greeted him, and he couldn't help himself when he pressed his lips against your forehead, muttering into your skin as he did so,

"Sweetheart... whats going on?" "What do you mean John?" "I mean whats going on... whats got you packin' up your bag hmmm? Can't imagine you've got an important meetin' this time of the night have you? We also hadn't really finished had we?"

Johns doing his best to catch your eye as he talks but its futile when you keep your gaze steady on anything but his face.

"You wanted to go again?"

John balks at that response. Is that really why you think he wants you to stay? Is that really what you think of him?

"What? No no darlin' I mean you were up before I gotta chance to clean you up... I don't know about the men you've been with before sweet girl but a gentleman cleans up his lady... and of course a cuddle after..."

He pouts through the last part though you don't look up to see it. Your eyes remain trained on his muscular neck and John does his best to remain patient. He knows you, no matter how foreign your apprehension of him may feel right now. He knows you and he knows you're hurting which is why you're avoiding his eyes because the minute he gets you to see him you break,

"Oh... oh you don't have to John... I'm alright I can just go, I'm sure you're tired and want to rest and i don't want to keep you..."

John groans lowly in frustration at you not getting his point, his grip subconsciously tightening as if you would run off the minute he lets go and to his credit thats not a difficult situation to imagine,

"Fuckin' hell, okay sweetheart lets try this another way. Why do you think you have to go anywhere huh? I though' we could lay down and have a cuddle... even took the day off tomorrow to spen' it with you yeah? Want to know what you've been up to? Maybe step off the base and take you out for a proper meal?"

With each word out his mouth your confusion and hurt climb reaching a crescendo until your ears are ringing and you need to get away from this sweet talking brit before you crumble. However, Johns a stubborn man particularly when he sets his mind to something so no amount of squirming on your end makes him let you go as you begin to blabber each source of pain out in the open,

"Let me go, let me go, let me go John... You're so mean you know that? So so so mean... You come into my life all soft and sweet and gentle with me calling me pretty things that I've only imagined being called and you came in and made me care about you when I was so happy in my own bubble but still I started to care and then I find out its only for me to be something you pass time with nothing more and then you come back and I love you so much that ill take anything I can get from you even if its one night and then you have the audacity to stand there and be all sweet and caring when you and I both know that this will never be anything more and you know what maybe I am a child because this is too much–"

Your ranting is cut off by John whose own pulse has become frantic at all that you've laid out before him. You love him! Wait why do you think this is a one night thing? what do you means passing the time? One hands grips your upper arm, the other forcing your face up to look at him as your fists continue to push but to no avail,

"Whoa whoa okay look at me... look at me sweet girl... not letting you go until I ge' your eyes on me yeah? You can fight all you wan' but 'm not letting go until you get you damn eyes on me yeah? Come on... there you go good girl now what do you mean something to pass time with huh? What got that daft idea into that pretty head or that this would be a one night thing? Talk to me yeah "

John's barely finished before the words escape you in a breathless sob

“You, you stupid British man!”

Okay I was too excited to post it so here but if the reception to it is you know good ill post the second bit which is already written 👀

As always please reblog yes? yes okaieee byee

#cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #john price x reader #john price x reader fluff #john price x reader angst #captain john price x reader #price x reader #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #john price x you #captain john price #john price smut #john price angst #task force 141 #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader

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holylulusworld · 8 months

Text

A thief at the bunker

Summary: There is a thief at the bunker.

Pairing: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: fluff, scenting, a/b/o, idiots in love, sneaky Castiel, possessive Sam, implied smut/mating

Square filled for @spnfluffbingo (expired): Idiots in love

Square filled for @warmandfluffybingocards: Bed-sharing

“Where are they?” you grumble. “I bought five new blankets, sheets, and new pillows. Now they are all gone.”

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” Dean pokes his head inside the room. “Do you need help? I was about to have a shower, but I’ll lend you a hand if you need me.” He grins when you throw him an angry look. “Whoa, what crawled up your ass.”

“Watch your tongue, Winchester,” you warn, and point your index finger at Dean. “I bet it was you.”

“Huh?” He cocks his head. “What are you talking about, Y/N? I don’t know what you want.”

“Have you seen the blankets I bought? I wanted to give one to Charlie when she comes to visit us this weekend. Now the blankets are all gone. We’ve got a thief at the bunker.”

“If it was pie or beer, I’ll be your man. But blankets and pillows are not my kind of poison,” he grins. “Maybe you simply misplaced them, Y/N. I can have a look at the guestroom if you want me to.”

“I came from the guestroom, Dean. I prepared it for Charlie, and only needed fresh sheets and one of the blankets for her. And now, they are all gone.”

Dean furrows his brows. “Maybe Cas needed them…no. He wouldn’t steal the blankets. I’m still not sure if he ever sleeps.”

“He’s a Netflix junkie,” you chuckle, but then you remember, you still need to find the blankets. “Crap. I don’t have the time or the money to buy new blankets. I need to find them.”

“Blankets?” Castiel joins you and Dean in the room. “I saw Sam carry a few blankets inside his room not so long ago. He snarled at me when I asked him if he needed my help.”

“Sam?” You gape at Castiel. “Why? He’s got a blanket, and I never took him for a blanket hoarder.”

“I’m not sure about it, sweetheart,” Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “If we had to share a bed, he always stole the blanket. I woke up freezing more than once.”

“That fucker!” you growl. “How dare that man to steal my blankets.” Off you go to get your blankets and pillows back.

“There she goes,” Dean sighs. He glances at Castiel, who, to Dean’s surprise smirks darkly. “Cas, what’s the matter? Why the scary smirk?”

“Scary?” Castiel frowns. “I didn’t scare Y/N. I made sure she’ll find the blankets on Sam’s bed.”

“You want her to hurt my brother?” Dean swallows thickly. He wonders what Sam has done to deserve Castiel’s wrath. “What did Sammy do?”

Castiel sighs deeply. “They are pining for each other for years. I’ve had enough of watching them. So, I took matters into my own hands.”

The angel grins proudly.

Dean snorts. “You played matchmaker.”

“It’s called heavenly intervention.”

“It’s called getting Sammy laid…”

“You! Samuel blanket thief Winchester! I will kill you for stealing my blankets,” you growl, ready to attack Sam.

He looks at you like a deer in the headlights. The hunter tried to find out who brought all the blankets to his room when you stormed inside.

Now he believes you tried to nest on his bed, and his heart swells in his chest.

“I knew you feel the same,” you end up in his arms, his face buried in your neck. You are too stunned to even react. Moments ago you wanted to scold him for stealing your blankets, and now he’s walking you toward his bed.

“Sam…” you try to fathom what’s going on as Sam tries to get you on his bed. “What? Sam!”

“You brought the blankets and pillows here so we can make a nest.” You end up on Sam’s bed, buried underneath the hunter. “We will take things slow. I’ll properly court you. I've got nice gifts for my omega. I bought a new flannel, and the pumpkin pillow you like so much.”

“Sam…” You pat his back, but he won’t move. Sam sniffs along your neck to catch your scent. “We will rub our scents into the blankets, and you can move into my room after we finish the nest.”

“Sam…SAMMY!”

“What? Oh,” he lifts his head to grin at you. “Do you want to mate first? I knew you were a dirty girl. Let me just lock the door. We don’t want Dean to walk in on us…”

“What? I—” You watch Sam get off the bed to lock the door. He throws his shirt across the room seconds later, smirking as you drink his naked chest in.

“Yeah?” He furrows his brows.

“Forget it,” you unbutton your shirt. “I like your plan…is all…”

“You owe me fifty bucks, Dean,” Castiel smirks as the noises coming from Sam’s room leave little to nothing to his brother’s imagination. “I told you that all they needed was a heavenly intervention.”

“Tell you what Cas,” the hunter shudders hearing you mewl loudly. “We should leave the bunker, and I’ll drink the memory of the noises they made away…”

“I’ll accompany you, Dean. Maybe someone else needs my help too.”

Tags in reblog.

#sam winchester #A thief at the bunker #warmandfluffybingocards #sam winchester x reader #alpha!sam winchester #alpha!sam x omega!reader #a/b/o

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creedslove · 9 months

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Joel gives me the vibes that he’s big and hard has a hard up to other people but when it comes to you none of that exists he just turns into a cuddly teddy bear would do absolutely anything for you and would let u do things to him he may not like it but it’s you so he allows it

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: omfg anon 🫠

• Joel Miller might come off as rude, asshole, mean to some people, all because he is a tough man™

• Joel Miller is the kind of man who's not afraid of getting into a fight if he has to, he's not gonna look for it but if someone picks a fight with him, you can be sure Joel will teach them a lesson

• He seems very angry at people overall, and he might not be the most talkative or warmest ray of sunshine out there but when it comes to you, his darlin', Joel Miller is something else

• He even tried acting tough for you but of course that didn't work at all, he just let you wrap him around your pretty finger and if there's anyone he's soft for, that's you

• Joel Miller does anything he can to please you and no matter if he doesn't like it at all, if you like, he'll do it

• Joel doesn't like taking pictures, but if you ask batting your eyes at him and giving you your sweet smile, that man is immediately

😀🤳

• it doesn't matter if he tells you you need to take your own jacket because if you get cold he isn't giving you his jacket, the moment you shiver lightly he's already placing his heavy leather jacket on your shoulders

• he groans and complains but he knew that would happen, that's why he's got an extra flannel underneath it anyway

• he told you you should have worn sneakers or boots instead of heels but you didn't listen to him because you knew no matter if he tells you to wear something else, his cock gets hard to see you on those heels high enough to make you almost reach his height

• and because when you get home with your feet sore, Joel will place your legs on his lap and he will massage your feet very gently so you can relax

• a footjob afterwards is not mandatory, but it's more than welcome

• he says he's not the cuddling type, but he is the cuddling type when he's around you because Joel doesn't mind at all, having your fingers running through his soft hair, or resting his head on your lap or your chest

• Joel would 100% give you piggyback rides even if his back KILLS him

• he would order extra portions of sides you like, no matter if you want fries, or more shrimp or egg rolls, he will just get it done for you

• and if he doesn't order any extras, he'll pretend he's already full so he will give you his

• if he eats something different during his work day, for example runs to a coffee shop and tries a donut he will feel guilty about not taking you so you can have it as well

• he pretends he doesn't care about your anniversary, but he cares a lot and he marks the date on his calendar so there are no chances of him forgetting about it and he always comes up with something to do, whether it's a dinner date or some short trip

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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cyberghouleo · 9 months

Text

“She won't ever get enough once she gets a little touch”

Tim Wright x Bimbo! Reader

Tim starts becoming infatuated with someone he was supposed to be stalking. After weeks of being around you, he decides he can't take it anymore.

cw : bimbo! fem reader, fingering, cunnilingus, dom Tim, dumbification

wc : 2.8k

ao3 link:

a / n : requests are open !!

Tim couldn’t take it, he couldn’t hold back anymore. What started off as a mission to get information out of you was starting to turn into an infatuation with you. And it wasn’t his fault, it was yours. You were the one who just had to wear the tiniest skirts he had ever seen out in public or wearing the tight crop tops that you often forgot to wear a bra with. Or the heels you could hardly walk in, causing you to stumble out in public and show your ass off to him.

He never planned on getting caught stalking you, he just wanted to be a silent watcher from your window as you played with yourself late at night or when you changed right in front of the window with the curtains wide open. But one night, he followed you too closely from work and he was sure his cover was blown. He figured as soon as you saw him, you would scream and tell him to fuck off. But it never came. Instead, you talked to him like he was a normal person and not someone who has been jerking off to the sight of you outside your window for the past few weeks. You were so dumb and naive when it came to your surroundings, you made everything so easy for him. All it took to get your number was lying about being a neighbor, and you were instantly giving him it. When you bent over to type your number in his phone, your tits almost spilled out your shirt. That’s when Tim knew he had to befriend you so he could get closer to making you his.

Playing your fake friend wasn’t a hard task, you mostly just called him or asked him to come over to your house, a house he already knew the entire floor plan from stalking you at night. You always wore the skimpiest clothes around him, short dresses that you never seemed to close your legs in, giving him a clear view of the tiny thong you were wearing. You often got your white shirts wet, showing off the lace bra underneath clearly. After you “befriended” him, it only gave him more chances to see you in sexual ways without you realizing it. You often would bend over in front of him, showing off your pink panties with no shame or realization.

However, as Tim played along as your neighbor/friend, he also saw just how naive and oblivious you were. You would tell him stories about your day and tell him the inappropriate things said to you, asking him to explain what it meant since you didn’t understand it. The idea of another man taking advantage of your intelligence and naivety to get a quick flash made him angry enough to want to track down the person and kill them for that alone. He hardly killed outside of required missions but anybody who disrespected you or got to get the same peeks that he got were the only exceptions.

The moment that made Tim finally lose it was when he was watching you walk home from the store. This was a normal occurrence that happened as he promised to himself that he would make sure you got home safely every day. You were walking through a crowded area when someone smacked your ass, running away laughing as you stood there confused and looking around for the assaulter. You gave up after a few seconds and continued walking home. He had already tracked the person down and gave them the deserved slow death, but he also needed to come over to put an end to this chase. He needed to make you his so you could have someone protect you in the public so nothing like this would happen again.

It was late in the afternoon when three loud knocks came from your door. You were wearing your usual short skirt and crop top as you opened the door, revealing a pissed off Tim wearing his usual flannel and jeans. Before you could open your mouth to greet him, he burst through your door as soon as you answered, pushing past you and storming into your living room.

“What’s wrong Tim?” You asked, head tilted and lips open slightly. Tim almost didn’t hear your question as he was focused on your lips, thinking how hot they would look wrapped around his cock as your mascara ran down your face.

He hissed, “You.” You bite the inside of your cheek, your head tilting to the side even more. “You’re the fucking problem, you’re such a tease to me.”

You stared at him blanking, not quite understanding what he meant. “Are you upset with me?” You asked, your arms coming together which caused your tits to be pushed together. You were going to be the death of him if you kept acting this way. He brought his fist up to his mouth, giving you a quick nod. Your lips formed into a cute pout. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

The question was almost too easy, it felt like a set up. He stared at you for a second to see if you were being serious or not before he responded. “I think the only way to make this up to me is to let me do something.”

You quickly nodded your head up and down, eyes wide open and full of hope. “Okay! I just don’t want to lose you as a friend, Tim.” God you were so fucking cute and so eager to please, it was a sight that could make him cum on the spot.

“Good girl, if you do what I say I’ll forgive you.” You really didn’t want to lose him as a friend, so you believed him. He had never given you a reason to doubt him before. You nodded in response as he approached you, his hand coming up to cup and caress your cheek. You leaned into the touch, eyes closed as you let out a sigh of content. It was endearing to see how much you trusted him, even after all the disgusting fantasies he thought of while he spied on you in your own house.

He started to lean towards you, his eyes locked on your lips that shone with lip gloss. As soon as your lips met he started kissing you desperately, your soft moans filling his mouth as his hand found its way to the back of your head, tangling itself into your hair. He tilted your head back to get a deeper kiss, you moaned as he tugged on your hair. You pushed your body into his, your chest pressed against his as your lips moved in sync with each other. His other hand rested on the small of your back, pressing you closer into him. This was the closest he had gotten to you before, and your smell was intoxicating to him. He pulled away from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips together for a split second. Your face was starting to heat up and your lip gloss was already smeared off your lips.

His hand traveled from your lower back to the front of your stomach, fingers slowly creeping under your crop top as he kissed along your neck. You moaned out softly as his hand groped your tit, he was never more thankful that you weren’t wearing a bra today. His fingers traced around your nipple before placing his thumb and pointer finger around it, slightly pinching as he felt it harden underneath his touch. You let out soft moans as you continued to push your body against his, desperate to get as close as possible to his touch. Your body was responding to his touches before your mind could, instinctively addicted to his touch as you felt heat start to pool within your stomach. While continuing to pinch your nipple, his mouth stopped near the bottom of your neck as he switched from kissing to softly sucking with enough pressure to leave a mark. He wanted everyone to see the mark and know you belonged to someone, specifically him. You let out soft whimpers as he nipped at the skin, moaning out his name quietly under your breath as you rubbed your legs together, desperate to get any type of friction between your legs.

Tim waited forever to hear you moan out his name, and he was starting to grow impatient as his jeans started to tighten up. He pulled away from your neck, his mouth detaching with a ‘pop’ sound before he turned you around, your back facing him. He guided you to bend over onto the kitchen counter, a hand placed firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you planted against the cold countertop. His other hand quickly found the end of your skirt, flipping it up onto your lower back. Your pink thong and ass were fully exposed to him, the same ass Tim had replayed over and over in his head as he jerked off late at night. He had only ever seen accidental upskirts so far, but now it was fully open to him and only him. His dick strained against his pants as he traced the outline of your slit, your body arching into his touch as you mewled out. His fingers ghosted over your lips, just enough pressure for you to moan out and try to push further back to feel his fingers more. You were such a fucking slut and he has yet to even do anything, he loved it. He slid your panties to the side, exposing your cute pussy to him. He waited for years it felt like to get this close to you, you were so vulnerable to him right now and you were all his.

His middle and pointer finger spread your lips open, you were already soaking wet and it only fueled his ego more. This was the wettest he has ever seen you, even when you were using your vibrator alone at night. After coating his middle finger with your wetness, he circled your clit in slow circles, your hips stuttering and grinding against him.

“Puh-Please Tim,” You moaned out.

“Please what?” He kept his slow pace as he pressed himself into you, his dick against your ass and his chest laying against your back. He could smell your shampoo and perfume, and he had to restrain himself from bucking his hips into your ass.

“Please touch me more.”

Hearing you beg underneath him made him instantly stand up straight, ready to show you how eager he has been for this moment and just how good he will make you feel. He removed his hand from your back, telling you to keep still as he kneeled below you. Sitting on his knees underneath you as he stared up at your pussy, he placed his hands on your hips before flattening his tongue, starting with small kitten licks around your clit. The feeling of his tongue against you caused you to gasp out, moaning as he started licking in long deep strokes that started from your entrance and up to your clit. After a few licks, he stopped at your clit and started sucking, an action that causes your knees to buckle as you moan out loudly. Your hands try to grasp anything on the table to stabilize yourself as you feel your body start grinding against his tongue, begging to feel more of him. Tim couldn’t get enough of you, the taste of you made his dick pulse as he palmed himself through his pants. You were unapologetically moaning out loudly as you felt your core start to tighten up, heat from between your legs had started to spread throughout your whole body.

As soon as you started to grind weakly against his tongue, Tim pulled away with a sloppy wet sound as you groaned out from the lost contact. You were so close to cumming and needed him to push you over the edge of an orgasm. Tim stood up from underneath you, now standing behind you as you stayed bent over the countertop, your back falling up and down rapidly with your increased breathing.

“Timmm…” You whine out, your voice slightly muffled. Tim’s nails pressed crescent shaped indents into his palm as he clenched his fist, trying to distract himself from how hot his name sounded rolling off your tongue.

“Hmm?” He responded as his hand traced your ass slightly, the contact making you push your body against his hands even more.

“I want…I want you to make me cum.”

Hearing you moan this out made his hands instantly leave your body, reaching down to unzip his pants to pull his dick out. Precum was already leaking from his tip and down his length as he gave a few lazy strokes. His hand found your hip, resting there as he started to line himself up with your hole. You grinded up and down as soon as you felt his dick in between your thighs, mewling out as you desperately needed him inside of you now.

“God, you're such a pathetic slut for letting me do all this naughty stuff to your body. You're such a whore for letting me touch you this way, you know that?”

You moaned out a yes as you felt him start to stretch you out, his cock slowly entering you with ease. It took all of his restraint to not thrust deep into you, as badly as he wanted this, he also knew he was going to have to start off gently.

“You're so eager to make me happy, aren't you baby?” He didn’t mean to call you by the pet name but it came out so naturally he didn’t mind.

“Mhmmm… I just… want you happy, Tim.” Hearing you moan out his name made him let out a long groan.

Slowly, he pulled out and pushed back in until he bottomed out, both of you letting out moans at the sensation. The way you squeezed and tightened around him made him second guess how long he was going to be able to last inside you. You started wiggling your hips against him, thrusting back and forth against him as you started to grow impatient. The sight of you underneath him had Tim feeling as if he was dreaming, how badly you wanted him to start fucking you and how tight you were clenched around him.

His hands travel down to grip your waist before he started thrusting in and out at a slow speed. You let out a small gasp as you feel him start fucking you, trying to push your body against him to match his thrusts to pick up the speed. Tim takes the hint, quickening his thrusts as you moan out below him. The girth and size of him was hitting spots that you weren’t used to, a hot knot already starting to form as your nails scraped along the countertop as you struggled to find anything to hold onto while he pumped in and out of you.

The orgasm sweeps through your body as you clamp down around him, moans pouring out as drool spills from your lips and onto the counter below you. Tim continues to fuck you through your orgasm as you come down, your clit sending pulses through your body as you feel yourself start to twitch around him. Feeling how tight you were around his dick causes his grip on your hips to tighten, his fingers pressing deep into your skin as he tries to focus on anything but cumming now.

After trying to wait as long as possible, Tim gives a few weak thrusts in and out before he pulls out, instantly missing the grip your pussy had around him as his hand wraps around his dick and he starts pumping up and down. Cum spurts from his dick in long thick hot ropes as you feel it hit your lower back and spread around your ass, deep guttural grunts escaping him as he gritted his teeth. You stay still as you both try to catch your breath, Tim’s chest heaving up and down as he wipes the sweat from his forehead. He couldn’t remember the last time he was as worn out as he was now, but he also couldn’t remember a time he was this horny. Before he could grab something to clean off his cum from your ass, you looked back at him over your shoulder, your makeup now smeared and a fucked-out expression painted on your face.

“How else can I make you happy Tim?” You asked with a small smile that Tim returned with a grin as he felt himself start to get hard again.

#masky x reader #tim wright x reader #tim marble hornets #marble hornets #bimbo reader #smut #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #x reader #masky marble hornets #mh masky #tim masky #if writing for bimbos was illegal yall would have to arrest me I CANT HELP IT!!#also feel like i kinda wrote him as a weirdo but hes normal i swear yall #EVERYONE gets to fuck the bimbo they are welcome #also the pink and black is so cute omg my fav colors ahh #title is from 3oh!3 song btw

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deerlottie · 17 days

Text

🐰 — you're the one (that im dreamin' of)

summary: ever since that stupid kiss with jackie, things have gotten worse. you just wish she liked you back. warnings: fluff with angst, childhood best friends to lovers, pining, dysphoria mentions/internalized transphobia, timeskips. not proofread a/n: 3k WORDS HOLY FUCK????? this is my first fic that ive done that has gotten to be this long im amazed wtf! this is definitively a favorite of mine now, and i hope you all enjoy it <3

you're just sitting next to each other on the couch watching a movie, you don't know why your heart is beating so fast.

maybe it's because her shoulder is touching yours, and every time she finds a joke funny, she leans into you while laughing, causing you to sweat and nervously laugh along with her.

god, you need to get over your little crush on jackie. well, it's not little at all, actually - you know you're in love with her, which is 10x worse. but the worst part is the voice in the back of your head telling you that she'd never be with someone like you. someone trans.

you know it's not true - jackie was very supportive when you came out to her in middle school. she was the only one defending you from shitty kids and let you stay at her house for a while when your parents found all your binding stuff and threw you out. of course, you had to go back eventually but they made you throw out anything related to that 'sinful' shit.

jackie would sneak you some of shauna's flannels when you'd reach the bus stop so you could be yourself outside of home, and you always chalked that fluttery feeling in your stomach when she called you handsome down to gender euphoria. which is partly true, but you secretly wished she would've called you her boyfriend instead.

but even so, you'd have to swallow the bile that rose to your throat when senior year of high school started, and you'd see her talking to jeff - to a real man. you know that there wasn't anything going on between them, but your stomach would churn when she would mention how cute he looked that day. it made you angry - at her, at jeff, at your parents, at yourself.

so angry, that you would start ignoring her. being too close to her got to your head and it was getting hard to ignore your growing feelings for her. but this is jackie we're talking about, and she cornered you until you spat out some pathetic excuse that you were just busy with homework to ever go see her. she didn't buy it for a second, but she saw how uncomfortable you were and didn't want to press you about it. you somehow made it through the rest of the school year with only seeing her a couple times while hanging out with mutual friends.

now, it's your freshman year at rutgers which jackie begged you to apply at so you could be college buddies, and to be honest, it wasn't your first choice, but you applied anyways. and it was the only one you got accepted to, so you had no choice in the matter. coincidentally, you and jackie had the same history class, so it was only natural that she had asked you to come over to her house to reconnect.

which was a bad idea.

"have you ever kissed someone?" jackie speaks suddenly, turning to you while twirling her hair around a finger.

you splutter for a second, gulping hard. "u-uh, no, i haven't. have you?"

please say no, please say no.

"me neither." she smiles, and if you hadn't been too embarrassed to make eye contact, you would have seen the way she glanced at your lips. you hum at her response and nod before turning your attention back to the movie.

a beat passes.

"wait, we should totally practice on each other!" she says it as if it were a huge revelation. she's looking at you with sparkles in her eyes and an innocent grin, reaching for the remote to pause the movie.

"what?" you squeak out, scooting up and sitting straighter on the couch, swallowing hard as you look at her. your hand shakes as you bring it up to scratch at the back of your head. "are you serious?"

"of course," she rolls her eyes. jackie leans in closer to you and grabs your hands, and if she heard the nervous breath of air you let out, she chose to ignore it. "i mean, it wouldn't even be awkward, right? we've known each other since we were kids. and besides, it's just a little practice, no harm done."

oh, if you only knew.

you think about it - really, think about it. you don't wanna kiss her just because you like her. you know that would just cause more problems with your feelings for her. but at the same time, you've barely gotten to know anyone while at this college and the only girl you talk to here is your classmate who sits beside you in art, and she only asked for a pencil one time. so, who knows when the next time you'd be given this opportunity to kiss another girl, let alone jackie taylor.

of course, there would be no other option you'd pick besides kissing her, even if that means destroying your friendship with her forever. for you, at least. she'd go on with her life and you'd be stuck dealing with all the emotions and be lucky if you don't suddenly explode with them.

you nod slowly, choosing to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut. your lips tremble as you speak, and a cold sweat consumes your body. "s-sure. it's just practice." you try to convince yourself of it, but it doesn't seem to work that well.

jackie giggles and claps her hands together, wiggling her toes as she gets in position next to you, and you nearly back out of it as you feel her breath hit your lips. she places her hand on your shoulder for a second, picking at the fabric of your shirt before trailing her hand to your neck and pulling you in for a soft kiss.

your brain immediately shuts off and you can hear the wires crack with electricity as her plump lips move against yours. you have no choice but to let her take control of the kiss, jackie giving you experimental pecks before getting brave enough to stick her tongue in your mouth.

you moan at the feeling, eyes widening with embarrassment as you pull away, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. you can't look her in the eye as you stutter out apologies, but you wish you could because the only thing you can focus on is how swollen her lips are.

"how was it? was i good?" she asks hopefully, leaning in and anticipating your response.

"mhm." is all you can say.

she raises her fists in a celebratory manner, proud of her newly found skill. she buzzes with excitement, looking lost in thought as she replays the moment in her head. she grabs the remote and turns to you again, seemingly mistaking your frozen state for some sort of expectation on her part.

"you were good too." she reaches out and touches your arm, eyebrows furrowing at how suddenly you get up.

"sorry-i just," you wipe at your nose and clear your throat, looking anywhere but her. "i forgot i have an early class tomorrow, and i don't wanna stay up late."

"oh, okay." she nods, trying not to sound disappointed. she watches you walk away and calls out your name, remembering something. "wait! you should come to my party that i'm hosting in a few weeks."

"what party?"

"it's just a small party with friends and their friends, probably. it's to kick off our first semester of college." she smiles and shrugs, bouncing on her tippy toes. "i really want you to be there with me."

"and shauna!" she adds quickly. "her semester at brown doesn't start for a couple more weeks so she's coming over to visit. she's been asking about you too, i don't know why she's suddenly so interested in you." she crosses her arms, looking annoyed.

"i'll try to show up, but don't expect anything." you tell her, giving her a small smile. you feel your heart skip a beat at her excited squeal and hug, awkwardly melting into it.

you walk out the door and can feel your emotions building up, kicking a stray rock on jackie's sidewalk before you let out a heavy sigh and wipe your face.

"fuck!"

the second you get to the party, you make a beeline straight for the drinks.

jackie's front door was unlocked when you arrived and for now, she was nowhere to be found. you're not entirely sure why you decided to show up in the first place - you've been a mess since that kiss you had with her all those weeks ago. it's all you can think about and replay in your mind, and some of your grades have started to slip. the thought of seeing her here after successfully avoiding her, which was surprisingly easy with a clever lie about being busy with classes, made you want to vomit.

you gulp down your 4th shot, grimacing at the burn in your throat. you pull out your phone and check the time - 9:49 p.m. you could stay another hour or so, take advantage of all the free drinks, maybe say a quick "hi" to jackie and shauna and then leave.

"should you really be drinking that much?" you hear a raspy voice tease from behind you.

speak of the devil.

you turn around and are face to face with shauna shipman, one of your best friends from elementary school. the last time you had spoken to her was a couple of days before high school graduation, and it was about jackie, because of course it would be. she had urged you to grow some balls and ask her out before any other person with brains would. you chickened out, that same voice in the back of your head saying she would've rejected you. of course, you've kept up with her through texts, but you haven't really had the time or heart to respond to all her questions about how it's going with jackie.

you roll your eyes and bashfully smile at the sight of her, clad in her iconic plaid shirt, which you're pretty sure is the exact one jackie gave you that one time. you shake your head to rid the thought of her, bringing shauna in for a hug. you inhale the scent of her cologne, sighing against her shoulder as your mind spins.

"i've missed you, shipman." you pull away from her and grab another shot, ignoring how she scoffs and rolls her eyes. despite this, she reaches out and grabs herself one, clinking it against your glass before you both swallow it down.

"you look good." she compliments, punching your arm and scanning your body over. "i heard that you've been on T for a while now, congrats. i like the little baby beard thing you've got going on." you swat her hand away from your face as she tries to touch it, chuckling at her antics.

"oh, thanks." you say with fake earnest, scratching at your stubble. "i've only been letting it grow out for 6 months now, no big deal."

"i'm sure jackie loves it, she's always had a thing for beards." shauna replies, smirking at you.

your smile drops a bit at the mention of jackie and you clear your throat awkwardly, looking away. shauna looks at you quizzically, wondering what she said wrong. you shake your head, pouring yourself another shot before sighing.

"it's a long story." you slur, the alcohol finally catching up to you. she grabs you by the hands and leads you through the crowd of people and into jackie's backyard, pulling a chair out and sitting you down.

"well, spit it out."

you end up spilling your guts to shauna about your feelings and what happened with jackie, surprising yourself for being able hold tears back as you pour your heart out. she rubs your back comfortingly as she listens to you talk about everything, her heart hurting as you mention your internalized transphobia.

she opens her mouth to speak but another voice calls out for you.

"there you are!" jackie yells, stopping in her tracks when she sees how close shauna is to you. her annoyance turns into concern when she notices how drunk you are. "i've been looking for you everywhere."

you giggle at her, looking up with a dopey smile and rush to your feet. "jackieeeee, hi."

"how much has he had to drink?" jackie looks at shauna, growing more concerned. you stumble into her arms, and she catches you, trying to keep you still as you mumble incoherently into her neck.

shauna shrugs, wondering if she should intervene. you're nearly black out, but she knows this would be the only way on earth that you'd confess to jackie. "maybe 4, 5 shots?"

jackie scoffs, rolling her eyes. she grabs your face and looks at you with a soft expression. "i'm gonna take you back to my room, okay? you can rest in there until you get sober enough."

"noooo," you pout, letting yourself get tugged by her back into the house and up the stairs, which you nearly trip on. you huff and puff as she pushes you into her room, feeling old memories come back at being in here. "you're no fun."

she ignores you and guides you over to her bed, pulling the covers back and helping you get in. you have no energy to fight back as she tucks you in, moving stray hairs out of your face and kissing your forehead. she leaves for a second to fetch you water, forcing you to drink some.

"why did you have to ask me to do it?" you ask suddenly, hiccupping and closing your eyes as you feel yourself get tired.

"do what?" she says quietly, running her nails over your scalp as she watches over you.

"ask me to practice kissing." you mumble. "i hated it. i hate you."

"i'm sorry." she apologizes, feeling a pang of sadness at your words. "i never wanted to make you fe-."

"i think i'm in love with you, jackie."

she freezes, her movements stilling as she processes what you just said. she swallows down what she really wants to say and shakes her head, blinking away tears. "you're drunk, you don't mean that."

"i do. i've known since middle school, i just could never tell bring myself to tell you because you'd never date someone like me."

"shut up." she gets out of bed, releasing a shaky sigh and fixing her hair. she feels her stomach drop as you give her a dejected look and turns around to face the door. "you can sleep here tonight. i'll come and check on you in the morning."

she walks towards the door and opens it, not looking back to you as she whispers a "goodnight." you're too drunk right now to care about what you just did, so you close your eyes and sleep.

you wake up with arguably the biggest hangover ever and groan, covering up the creeping sunlight with your blanket. wait- not your blanket, jackie's blanket. you sit up, feeling your heart sink as you realize what happened last night.

shit.

just as you're about to get out of bed, the door opens and in walks jackie, looking surprised at you being awake.

"i've checked on you like 5 different times, and you were always asleep." she chuckles awkwardly, sitting at the foot of the bed and fingering the loose thread on her pajamas. "i didn't know if you had classes today but i figured i'd let you sleep in anyway."

"thanks." you mutter, licking your dry lips and reaching for the water she brought you last night and taking a generous swig. you glance at the clock that reads 2:33 p.m. and sigh. you do have a 3 o'clock class but you really don't think you can handle going anywhere today.

the room is filled with uncomfortable silence as you both sit and pretend like you're not glancing at each other. you fumble with the water bottle before you gather the courage and speak with a small voice.

"i'm, uh, i'm sorry about last night. i wasn't thinking." that's as best as you can do without feeling like throwing up.

"did you mean it? what you said about me?" jackie scoots closer, removing the water bottle from your grip and placing it back on the nightstand. you internally scream as you make eye contact with her before looking away, feeling too nervous. her hand covers yours and you feel a shock of electricity, nodding your head slowly as you glance back to her.

"y-yes." you finally say, voice breaking. "i meant it."

you watch as her shoulders relax, closing her eyes and sighing out. she looks to you with a half grin and playfully shoves you, bouncing to her knees on the bed and holding you by the shoulders. "you're an idiot."

"excuse me?" you furrow your eyebrows, looking at her like she's crazy.

jackie shakes her head and pushes you back so you're lying down the bed and gets onto your lap, her lips meeting yours in a sweet kiss. you feel like you're having a fever dream between the hangover and jackie kissing you, but you welcome it, placing your hands on her hips and kissing her back.

you spend at least 5 minutes catching up with a long awaited makeout session, jackie pulling back with a satisfied grin. she rests her forehead against yours and caresses your cheek with her hand, looking into your eyes with a loving expression that makes your heart flutter.

"i was waiting for you to confess to me all these years, you know." she mumbles, kissing your nose. "i was starting to think you were gay or something."

you chuckle, tracing random patterns on her back. you lean up and flip her over on her back, smiling at her sound of surprise that flies from her mouth. you place your arms over both sides of her head and kiss her gently, pulling back only slightly.

"well, here's my confession. jackie taylor, i've been in love with you since we were in middle school. you would make me the happiest man in the world if you went out with me. what do you say?"

"hmm," she ponders, giggling as you pinch her side. she brings you in for another long, sweet kiss, getting sidetracked as she stares at you.

"i say yes."

#.myworks #jackie taylor thoughts 💭#yellowjackets x reader #jackie taylor x reader

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trashmouth-richie · 5 months

Text

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰

its absolutely miserable here rn but i enjoy writing these little winter stories so have another,

“why? why do we live here?”eddie grumbles, rubbing his red chapped hands together and blowing on them.

the indiana wind blew hard against the windows, rattling the screen door and creating a draft that seemed to keep the trailer at a crisp 65°.

wool socks and long johns weren’t enough to keep him warm, the thick flannel he’d had since forever was threaded to the very top, his throat tight against the suffocating button.

“ ‘t’s where the horses died, i guess.” wayne chuckled, cricketing his feet together as he lounged back in his squeaky worn recliner.

the small space heater glowed angry red, drawing more electricity from the trailer.

“get that van started up?” wayne asks around the mouth of a pabst.

eddie flicks his lighter open and shut in a habitual manner, “didn’t want to, but finally gave in,” plopping down next to the heater to warm the apples of his cheeks, he lets out a small sigh of relief from his chattering teeth.

wayne grunts in approval and they sit in comfortable silence. the howling wind keeping melody with the lonesome whistling of the ceiling vents, the garfield wall clock adding a chimed staccato.

every business in town was closed. the gas stations, the diner— the weather man called for people to stay home: no travel advised. but healthcare didn’t operate around the weather.

his watch beeped at 9:45PM and he figured the van would be good and warm by now.

“alright, i’m headin’ out,” he called to wayne as he shoved his arms through the cool leather and begrudgingly shoved a stocking cap on his head.

wayne gave him a solemn look, “you be damn careful.”

eddie grinned his cheshire pearls, “always.”

the steel door by the back entrance had a small window facing the parking lot. your co workers all had gone once the other shift had shown up to start their nightly duties of rounding on patients and stocking supplies.

trisha asked if you needed a ride but you waved her off, “he’ll be comin’”

you worried the snow might have been too deep for his van to handle, maybe it didn’t start at all? maybe the electricity went out in the trailer park?

the nails on your hand suffered between your teeth as your brain concocted more and more things to worry about. things that could go wrong.

but not long after a single headlight broke through the tree line and there he was, lining up with the sidewalk as close as he could without actually driving onto it.

with one deep and ragged warm breath, you braved the weather. the snow scraping against your face in icy claws of unforgiving cold. wind whipping the starchy fabric of your nursing assistant scrubs this way and that.

the dome light brightens as he climbs out from the van opening your door before you could reach for it yourself. a winced smile on his lips when he sees your chilled face.

“get in baby,”

he shuts your door and your fingers begin to thaw against the vents in eddie’s van, the warm comforting smell of rich tobacco and hints of weed engulf your senses. the smell of him singing a song to your soul.

his door opens and shuts tight and he’s chattering his teeth loudly before grabbing your hands and kissing heat into them.

“missed you,” he murmurs, “how was work?”

“long…busy,” a barking cough creeps from your lungs and tightens your chest, “glad it’s over,” you say weakly, reaching for his hand and threading it between yours, “i switched shifts with diane so i have to be back at six.”

eddie’s eyebrows furrow into worry but he hides his concern. that place worked you like a mule, they didn’t care how bad the weather was or if you were sick… and he hated them for it. you looked exhausted, the normal glow to your skin was dusted over with whatever virus you were currently fighting.. but eddie knew there was no use trying to tell you to take it easy for once.

“alright sweetheart, i can take you, wanna stay at mine tonight or go back to your place?”

the small home you rented with your childhood best friend jonathan and his girlfriend, leah was on the outskirts of hawkins. and since your landlord was jonathan’s mom the rent was dirt ass cheap. the hopper’s residing in a desolate cabin owned by the chief.

winter was rough this year and between eddie’s long hours at the factory that didn’t seem to slow down, and your irregular shifts at the nursing home, you didn’t get to see much of your boyfriend, “stay with me?”

the tv was blue when your key finally busted through the locks and you wedged your way inside. leah and jonathan both asleep, curled into one another on the oversized couch.

tracking snow in, you and eddie toe off your shoes gingerly trying to avoid the unwelcome surprise of wet snow on your socks.

“i fucking hate snow,” eddie mutters hanging up both of your coats.

“oh cmon, mr grinch, “ you tease with a small smile after hacking up another cough, “you don’t like how pretty it makes everything look?”

“hard to look cool in this damn thing,” he says tossing the black stocking cap onto your counter, his hair a mess of kinky curls, frizzing into oblivion.

“well,” you say, running your hands up his chest and around his neck, “i think you look cute.”

eddie rolls his eyes and you scoff before he dives into your lips and kisses you loud and obnoxious. erupting giggles from you as his icy hands work themselves beneath the hem of your shirt.

the laughing as your cough acting up again and eddie places a palm to your forehead worry etched into his eyes, you look back at him, “would the heat miser like a hot toddy?”

eddie rubs his thumb into a circle pattern on your back. fuck he adores you.

“i’ll make ‘em, you go take a hot shower, alright? you feel sick.”

you roll your eyes, “i’m not sick,” you garble through a coughing fit, “’m just sleepy.”

“sure, sure, whatever you think.”

—

when you’re dressed into pajamas and a long robe, eddie is stripped down to his long johns and the band shirt you liked to hold hostage at your house. your room is set up like a picnic, pb&’s and a twinkie to wash down the hot liquor.

“pretty much a gourmet chef,” eddie says, licking peanut butter from his thumb, “i even ate your crusts for you.”

“my knight in shining armor,” you muse and eddie takes an exaggerated bow.

he sits crossed legged on your bed, “let’s eat i know your hungry,”

eddie’s idea of a hot toddy is warm tea with double the amount of whiskey. yours he made sweet with some honey but his is kept straight and burning with whiskey.

a light buzz clouds your head by the time you finish your drink and the exhaustion settles into your bones, the cough loosened a bit with your hot shower but now your sinuses were filled and you were only breathing from your mouth.

“lay down baby, i’ll be right back.”

eddie flicks off the light and sets the plate into the sink, jonathan is standing in the kitchen warming a a pot of milk on the stove.

“that you coughing munson or her?”

eddie finds the crinkly pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his jacket and pulls one out for himself and jonathan.

“me? nah, she’s sicker than a dog.”

jonathan stirs the milk and takes the cigarette from eddie’s offering hand, “leah and i had something like that last week, probably just something going around”

the two smoke openly in the kitchen, both deciding it’s too cold to go outside. jonathan stirs the hot milk into the waiting mugs with chocolate powder, cigarette and spoon swirling in a dance of smoke and clanking ceramic.

“there’s some vicks in the bathroom if you need it,” jonathan says, stubbing out his cigarette into the nearest ashtray, balancing the mugs in each fist, “ tell her to take a day off for christ sakes.”

“yeah that’ll go over well.”

they both chuckle knowing just how stubborn you are and jonathan disappears into his bedroom. flicking out the lights, eddie follows the hall to your room and sneaks inside, laying down next to your burning up body and sweat slicked forehead.

he pulls you into him and you groan with the uncomfortable delirium from your fever.

“eddie?” you whisper into his chest, fisting his shirt into your palms, “it doesn’t snow in arizona.”

“you’re right princess,” eddie says pressing his lips to your fevered head, “it doesn’t.”

you snuggle deeper into him, and speak a barely audible “let’s move there.” before you fall into a deep sleep.

when morning comes and the wind hasn’t died down, you sigh a little relief when his van doesn’t start, and don’t object when eddie hands you the phone so you can call your job and tell them you won’t be making it.

here is the actual temp from my weather app— 🥲 also tagging @eiightysixbaby bc jonathan’s girlfriend is her, duh.

#eddie blurb #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things

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iheardarumorthings · 2 years

Note

holyfuck okay i don’t know if you would be okay with writing this but like the last requester, the wedding scene just did something to my feelings and what if,, five and reader broke up in 1963 texas and during the wedding scene they ended up sitting in the same table and the reader says “don’t look at me like that” and five asks what look and she says “like you still love me” and it’s just mutual pining since they still love each other and angst and deargod my heart

I HAVE MORE ANGST TODAYYYYYYY

warnings: long for me; five says fuck a lot; swearing; five breaking the reader's heart; angry confession; reader being set; reader denying anything and everything; reader being hurt (emotionally); female reader; reader is a fan of chocolate

tags: @mad-elia

SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE

He had wrecked you.

“I don’t think… I-” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes scrunched up. “We can’t do this anymore. You’re my wife, and I love you. But I’m not… in love with you. Do you know what I mean?”

He had wrecked you, but you stood taller, agreeing with the man child. So he didn’t love you after every piece of you was offered to him on a silver platter. He didn’t love you after you nursed him back to health in the apocalypse. He didn’t love you after you assured him that it wasn’t his fault all of you were separated, stuck in time.

He didn’t love you.

“No,” you laughed breathily, strained. “I get it. I totally get it. It’s no problem-”

“I’m glad,” he said, giving you a tired smile. “Now, I suggest we both go get some sleep. It’s been a hellish twenty days, hasn’t it?”

~*~

You had grabbed a tight-fitting sweater and overall shorts. It was much better than the uniform, you had to admit.

You hopped down the stairs of the hotel, greeting your brothers and sister in law.

Correction: Ex-in-laws.

“Good morning, peeps! How are we all doing?”

“Excellently, dear sister of mine,” Klaus responded. You stiffened; he didn’t notice. “And how are you this morning?”

You were crying all night.

“I’m amazing. Best sleep of my life.”

Allison’s shirt was soaked.

“Mimosa, (Y/N)?” Five called out from behind the bar. He was dressed in a t-shirt, a flannel and a vest…and a fedora. A plaid one.

“You look like you’re retiring and about to go on a fishing trip with the grandkids.”

“Oh ha ha,” he mocked, starting to pour you a drink. “You sleep well?”

“Best one yet. I don’t care if the mattress smells like sweat.”

His nose wrinkled. “Do you need me to run and grab you some new sheets?”

“I think I’ll take a trip today; I have nothing better to do anyway.”

He nodded. “Just be careful- there are a lot of alleyways that weird shit happens in.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel better.”

Before he could respond Klaus ran up to the both of you. “Okay, so I know that you’re retired Five, and I’m assuming your lovely wife-” You both winced; again, he didn’t notice…or he didn’t care. “-is also in retirement. What do you two say to a road trip? It’s what retired people do! You two, me, the countryside! What do you say?”

Five looked at you; you looked at Five and shrugged.

He won’t go. He would never.

“I got nothing better to do,” you said, smiling up at Klaus. He clapped his hands together in child-like joy, bouncing up and down slightly.

“Wonderful! And you, you old geezer?”

“I guess I’m in.”

Well, fuck me.

~*~

Five had pulled out a map of tourist locations in Pennsylvania, pointing things out to Klaus as he was driving. He ranted on and on about these things, just like an old man in retirement. He turned around and pointed them out to you, too, explaining things that may cater to your tastes.

“Okay, okay, listen to me, Five. Hold on.”

“Alright,” he said, smiling sarcastically. You felt bad; this was the first thing he was really enthusiastic about- the happy kind of enthusiastic. Not the obsessive, overbearing cloud of stopping the apocalypse. “I’m all ears.”

“So, I lied. We are going to Pennsylvania to find my birth mother!” he shouted, as if he were making an announcement. Your mouth dropped open. Well, now Five would be really pissed.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“No! But if I told you, you wouldnt’ve come. (Y/N) would’ve because she’s just a sweetheart like that-”

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome, (Y/N/N), you beautiful soul.” You made a face- something between confused and unsurprised. “You would not have come! I chose you two for emotional support?”

“Emotional support?” Five hissed. “You-”

“I did.”

You buried your head in your hands.

“BIGGEST BALL OF TWINE!” you heard Five shout. You shot up, only to see the sign presenting the words “WORLD’S BIGGEST BALL OF TWINE.”

“No, Five!”

“Come on-”

Five leaned over the seat quickly, gaining control of the wheel. You squeaked as the car made a sharp turn, almost running into two others. One nearly grazed your door.

“We’re going to die!” Klaus shouted.

You agreed.

~*~

Five was impressed with the ball of twine. It wasn’t a bad trip, you realized. You’d witnessed wonderful things there, including the validation Five had been craving from his siblings.

It was so nice, in fact, that Five had held your hand lightly as he was looking at it. Your eyes were wide and staring at your hands, but he was just looking at the twine.

He’d broken up with you in Dallas about fifty years before, technically. But to you, it was a few days.

You’d been crying every single night. You haven’t been eating as much.

So you pulled it back, crossing your arms, playing it off as if you were cold. He noticed. He noticed nearly everything, really. He quickly looked down at his empty hand, and then back at the ball of twine, something unreadable in his eyes.

So, here you were. One of Five’s favorites was playing, and he was singing along. You were sitting on top of the car, looking out upon the cows in the field.

He kicked the top of the car.

“Yes, Five?”

“What do you think about Hershey Park?”

“Won’t we need money for that?”

“Not if I can jump us in-”

“That’s illegal. And, along with that, I was making plans to move to New York. There’s a few jobs in my department; I can go to high school there, apply to a couple colleges. I can start over.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, the silence fragile.

“I see.”

“What are you going to be doing with your retirement, Five?”

“Go to Hershey Park.”

You cackled, throwing your head back. “Yes, because you love chocolate so much.”

“No, but you do. I thought you might want to go.”

Your heart stilled. “Thanks for the thought, Five. I appreciate it.”

The wave came through then; you could feel it rush through your system. And gone were the cows. Five clearly realized that too, stumbling out of the car, immediately looking at you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, but I don’t think the cows are,” you said, looking at the empty field.

“Can’t I get one fucking day off?” he whispered to himself.

~*~

It had been days since then. Five had gotten you new sheets; you had thanked him; he’d been looking at you; you’ve been looking away.

And on and on and on goes the cycle.

So here you were, watching the happy couple dance, nursing your drink. Maybe your last one.

But suddenly he was in front of you, his hand outstretched, beckoning you forward.

Wordlessly, you took that oh-so-familiar hand, and let him lead you to the dance floor.

He held you closely, a little too closely, your chests pressed together, his chin on top of your head.

“What are you doing, Five?”

“I’m dancing with my wife, what else do you think I’m doing?”

“Uh- Five…I thought we broke up. You aren’t in love with me, remember? You just…I don’t know. Love me? I’m not your wife anymore, Cinco.”

“We’re not divorced yet, Sweetheart.” He dipped you, you looked into his eyes. You looked into them and saw everything. You didn’t understand any of it.

He hadn’t called you “Sweetheart” in a long time, either.

“Don’t call me that, Five. And don’t look at me like that, either.”

“Like what?”

“Like you love me.”

“Darling,” he whispered, moving one of his hands to your head, threading his fingers through your hair. He moved his head lower, too, burying his face in your hair. He pressed his lips to your head. “I do. I was wrong. I don’t know what came over me- maybe it was…I don’t know. What I do know is that I am desperately and wholly in love with a woman that deserves so much more than me. But, by some miracle, that woman fell in love with the scum on the bottom of her shoe, and that little shit took it all for granted.”

You stiffened.

“I’m in love with you, (Y/N) Hargreeves.”

“Not a Hargreeves.”

He pulled you in a little closer.

“We’re not divorced yet.”

“Yet.”

“And it won’t happen.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I don’t think there are any lawyers around here to make it official. Just because the ring is off doesn’t make it legally undone. And-” He stopped himself, pulling away to look you dead in the eyes. You turned your head away; he gently turned it back, keeping it in place. “-I will not be stopping until I earn that love back, even if I’m still about as much as the dirt on the bottom of those heels.”

You pulled away for the final time, abandoning the dance floor, leaving him alone.

~*~

You two were stuck together again for the first time since the wedding. None of you spoke, you just stood there, wandering the hotel.

You decided to break the silence. “So is this the other shoe, or did it drop a while ago? Oh my god, do you think these monster guardian things have multiple pairs of legs?”

He wrinkled his eyebrows, but answered. “I hope they don’t. More work for us.”

A noise erupted from the silence, he pulled you to him by your waist.

“Five, really?”

“I told you. I’m earning love back.”

“Protecting me isn’t gonna-”

“Then what will? I don’t care that we may have minutes to live and that everything outside of this God-forsaken hotel is destroyed. I’ll find a way to make it happen. Here-” With sure, and oddly steady, hands he reached into his pocket, producing something you thought you left behind. “I have this. Do you remember the day I gave you this?”

Your ring. The silver band you’ve worn since what felt like forever.

“I remember.”

He slid it onto your finger; you let him.

“Then you remember what I said to you-”

“You don’t- Five, you meant it then. That doesn’t mean-”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he snarled, angry now. Your eyes widened at the change of tone. “You can’t honestly think my feelings have changed. I was a fool. I was being stupid. I don’t know what the hell was going through my head, but I broke you the fuck apart. I knew I was wrong the second I said it. I’ve been trying, (Y/N). I’ve been trying to work up again, but clearly you need for me to tell you because you are in such fucking denial that you can’t see what’s right in front of you. I am in love with you, Mrs. Hargreeves. And that’s not changing for shit, so you better get used to it, whether you want to stay together or not.”

You wanted to stay. You did.

But his mind could change just as easily as it did before.

“Five, your mind-”

“Is set. You’re it. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

And then you laughed. It was breathy, and marred by your tears, but he began to laugh too. He pulled you into his chest, breathing you in.

“Please. Just… stay. Please. If we do this, if we save the universe in the million to one chance we have, I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Starting with Hershey Park?”

“Most definitely.”

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five x reader #five x you #tua #tua x reader #tua x you #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader

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eruden-writes · 13 days

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Choosing the Bear - Part 1 (Shifter x Human)

Inspired by the Man or Bear in the Woods question/meme.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

If you found yourself at night in a forest – somewhere that made bumfuck nowhere look like New York City – would you choose to be alone with a man or a bear?

Bambi Rose Barker was stuck in the middle of both answers. Literally.

She stood stock still, eyes wide, chest heaving and aching for air while her stomach lurched. Moments earlier – or maybe half an hour ago, she couldn’t tell – she had managed to escape her kidnapper’s cabin with the man hot at her heels. It had been a mad dash through the night, dressed in only a tank top and a pair of daisy duke shorts and choking down pain as her bare feet slammed over rocks, branches, and uneven terrain.

Luckily, a full moon cast light over the world, so Bambi wasn’t exactly stumbling without sight. Fumbling through the forest without shoes was still a bitch on the soles, but she simply gritted her teeth and continued forth.

When she caught sight of the bear a few yards ahead, her racing feet and thoughts froze. She couldn’t really be seeing a bear, right? Under the moonlight and swirling starlight, she squinted. But it was hard to deny that the bright white creature was anything but a bear.

Her adrenaline shifted from fleeing her pursuer as she slowed to calculating whether ursine or man was a larger threat.

Behind her, the man howled as he tromped through the mountainside forest, “Bambi, get back here! I just wanna talk things out!”

It wasn’t the first time she’d had a man chasing her with a shotgun. Growing up in the country, with little to do except get in trouble, Bambi and a group of friends often found themselves running off into the dark, being threatened by an angry elder with a shot gun.

The man tailing at her heels wasn’t crochety Mrs. Jenkins, who was more bark than actual bullet.

No, she was well-acquainted with Duke Walker. They’d grown up in the same town and known each other forever.

There was one key difference between Duke and the other men of Hartwell: his family owned the little town. By and large, he was better off than most people in Barfield and he got away with a whole helluva lot more than the average folk.

Which included stalking, as Bambi had learned over the last two years of their separation. He was about to add kidnapping and possibly murder to the list, as well.

But Duke was a human. A five-foot-eleven-inch human that might have a chance to be reasoned with.

Whereas the bear…

Well to start with, it looked about as tall as the Wicked Warrior from the Monster Truck Derby her pa used to take her to when she was a kid. Which had to be at least ten feet tall, though maybe kid Bambi was coloring her memories. It didn’t help that the bear looked to weigh just about as much as the Wicked Warrior to boot.

To end with, judging from the size and coloration, it looked like a polar bear. As in one of the few creatures that actually saw humans as a viable snack.

While Bambi hadn’t been an ace at high school geography, she was pretty damn sure the Appalachian Mountains were too far south for a polar bear.

Confusion warred with uncertainty, keeping her frozen in place as the bear lowered onto all four paws. A faint part of Bambi’s mind realized it had been rooting around in a tree and, a little hysterically, she wondered if polar bears ate honey.

Just as the bear lumbered closer to Bambi, Duke crashed through the brush behind her. The flaps of his flannel button-up, unbuttoned, flared behind him as his white tank top nearly glowed in the moonlight. “Christ, woman! I told you I just wanted ta’ talk and you gotta go and make a scene—“

Jolting, Bambi spun toward Duke. It would’ve been a lie if she didn’t take some satisfaction in watching awareness dawn on his as he finally saw the bear. He paled to a shade almost as white as the creature, gripping his gun tighter. She watched the knot in his throat bob, fear freezing him momentarily in place.

For some reason, seeing Duke like that sparked something inside Bambi. Balling her fists, she nodded toward the gun in his hands. “If you just wanna talk, Duke, why do you got a gun with you?”

Her words made Duke snap his attention back to her, eyes wide with horror and anger. “Now’s not the time for all that! Do you not see the hulking white beast behind you!?”

“I do, but it ain’t threatening me with a damn gun and it hasn’t been the one stalkin’ me for years and kidnapping me,” she spat back, though she very pointedly shifted so her back wasn’t to the bear or the man.

A chuff from the bear startled her attention back to it, her heart tripping in her chest. She glanced toward it, risking eye contact that could very well end her life. The bear’s head slightly tilted toward her, ears giving a twitch, but it didn’t growl or lift a lip in a snarl. Even without the signs of imminent danger, Bambi’s heart thrummed in her chest.

Albino, she thought. The white bear couldn’t be a polar bear, it had to be albino! But didn’t albino animals have red eyes? And no pigmentation in the rest of their body? She swallowed as her eyes dropped from the creature’s dark eyes to its black nose.

The cock of Duke’s rifle snagged Bambi’s attention back toward him. Finally, a growl burbled up from the bear and she heard it shift, could feel it rising up on its hind feet. Apprehension prickled over her body, finding Duke lining up a shot through the scope, lip curling as he snarled, “You need to back away from that damn thing! Don’t you got any sense?!”

A sudden surge of protectiveness overcame Bambi as she took a step closer to the armed man. “Duke Walker, put down the damned rifle! It wasn’t doing a thing before you started threatening it.”

“Don’t you Duke Walker me! It’s a—“

Before Duke could finish his retort, the huge bear crested the distance faster than Bambi would have guessed. Stunned, she couldn’t even shriek as the bear descended on Duke, huge paw arcing down to swipe at the rifle. She only heard the man give a startled cry before a loud, piercing gunshot rang out. With a clatter, the rifle went flying and Duke stumbled back, bloody gouge marks trickling down his arm and chest. Another growl warbled from the bear as it stood up straighter.

As Duke turned tail and sprinted back the way he came, the bear didn’t pursue. It merely stood, as if watching the man disappear into the woods.

And suddenly, Bambi realized she was alone with the hulking beast. As quick and quiet as she could, she began sidling away from the creature, mentally trying to determine which direction she should run to avoid Duke. However, the bear shifted toward her and she realized, with a start, that red blossomed along its fur.

Duke had shot it.

With a groan, the bear lowered down to all four, its torso seemingly heaving.

Sense and compassion held Bambi locked in place, part of her wanting to check on the creature while the logical side of her told her to bolt. Besides the fact it could be a polar bear – there’s no fucking way it’s actually a polar bear, Bambi’s logical side snarked – it was injured, meaning it had both a hankering for human and was likely scared while in pain.

Before Bambi could decide what to do, a smaller figure crashed through the tangle of forest. “Dad! Dad! What’s goin’ on? Did you hear that gunshot?”

The little figure paused, eyes widening and voice softening with worry, “What happened to you?”

With a jolt, Bambi realized she recognized the voice. Squinting, she took a step closer. “Mercy? Mercy Clements?”

Startled, the girl turned toward Bambi as she hovered near the bear. The light of the moon caught her wide hazel eyes, casting them with a silver sheen. Like a fish, her mouth opened and closed, obviously trying to come up with something to say.

Wait, she’d said ‘dad’ thought Bambi. And then she had ran toward the bear, asking the creature what happened. Bambi’s gaze flicked from the bear to the girl and back to the bear, a perplexing suspicion taking root. There was no way to confuse a behemoth like that for a human, even in the dark.

“Zeke?” Bambi narrowed her eyes, focusing on the bear. There was no way the bear was Zeke Clements. There was no way the bear was anything other than a bear!

Something in the bear’s demeanor flinched – or so Bambi thought – and her denial wavered.

#exophilia #exo writing #bear shifter #shifter #monster #monster x human #shifter x human #monster romance #monster lover #monster fucker #monster dad #I haven't decided if Zeke only turns into a bear or if he can shift into other animals #thoughts and feelings?#should I continue this?#I have a vague idea of where this can go but idk

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frankieburieshisdead · 1 year

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✮ Hobie Brown x male!ballerina reader ✮

You and Hobie started going out about 6 months ago. You met at a black-empowerment student group on your campus years before you had started seeing each other, and you remembered him starkly because he was the only person in the room who had brought up any kind of black queer issue, to which he was quickly shut down. He never returned to the group, and you always thought he was so much cooler than you for that. Being the only dark face in a line of pinky white dancers every day meant that you couldn't give up the small community of black people you had amongst the students. Even if it meant nodding along with arguments like 'gay black folks give us a bad name.' Hobie would never do that. Hobie would have said something. Its part of the reason he swore to never return to organized liberation movements. "If the movement cant be translated to a mentality, its not worth your time my love," he had told you, and you had just smiled, because you knew you would never be as brave and he was. It was one of the reasons you fell in love with him.

He brought you flowers on your first date. They were haphazardly picked and thrown about, clearly hand picked from someones garden he had pilchered, wrapped in an old newspaper. You loved them more than anything anyone had ever given you. You still kept them pressed in between a stack of books you kept at your hostel.

He came to every single one of your shows. Even the ones he couldn't afford, at fancy recital halls that made you feel out of place, he would find a way to sneak into the audience. One time, he even managed to get a job as a lighting guy a month before your biggest performance of the year so that he would be there. You still tease him about it.

The first time you went to one of his shows, you stuck out like a sore thumb. It was right after rehearsals, so you were still in your pink leotard and sheer brown leggings. Angry boys with spiked clothing kept on bumping up around you as the crowd bobbed up and down with the loud music. You couldn't find Hobie anywhere, and you didn't know why you did what you did, but when a particularly hard shove landed you on your hands and knees, scraped up from the grain of the cement floor, you called out for your boyfriend. "Hobie!" You shouted, almost certain he wouldn't hear as the crowd around you swallowed up the noise. Only he did hear, and not a moment later he was behind you, wrapping his long lanky arms around your waist as he pulled you back onto your feet. "You alright sweetheart?" He whispered just loud enough for you to hear. "Just got a bit overwhelmed. Sorry Hobes." You replied. He shook his head fondly at you, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "Come with me?"

You spent the rest of the concert in the sound box above the stage, wrapped up in Hobie's big flannel jacket as you cheered on the lovely man you were beginning to fall in love with.

When he told you about the mask, about his other life as a webslining vigilante, you found that you weren't even surprised. Of course, your anti-cop, pro-punk politics boyfriend was Spiderman. It was the first time you had seen him look nervous, so you took his face in your hands and pressed his forehead agaisnt your own. "You're the bravest person I know. I am so proud of you," you whisper against his lips. And then, because it had to be said "don't you ever let yourself get hurt." He kissed you gently and promised.

He broke that promise less than a week later. You were warming up in your room before your first class, far earlier than anyone else was awake, which was why the loud banging on your door startled you so much. Never in a million years did you expect a bloody and battered Hobie Brown to fall into your room. He wouldn't let you call the police. Wouldn't even let you call an ambulance. You would never forget the rasping noise he made as he lay on your floor, blood soaking through your carpet.

You didn't speak to him for weeks after it happened. You were able to bribe some of the medical students from the STEM section of the campus to stitch up your clumsy boyfriend who had fell down the stairs. Apparently, it wasn't even that deep of a wound, just happened to nick a part of the body that blead a lot or something like that. You still woke up shaking when you thought about it.

Hobie does everything to get you to forgive him. He leaves flowers inside your ballet locker everyday, steals new lace for your shoes from the silk shop he knows you lone but can never afford. He apologizes again and again, but you can't look at him without seeing the gasping expression on his face as you thought you were watching him die. It's not until he does the one thing you thought he would never do, the one place where Hobie Brown swore he would never show his face again.

He was at the next black empowerment meeting you attended. You couldn't help the visible shock fall onto your face. "Just for the record, I don't like it here." He stated plain and clear before the meeting had even started. "I think you lot are a bunch of bootlicking, regressive posers who wouldn't know what respectability politics looked if they smacked you in the face." Hobie brought his gaze to his shoes, black locs falling over his eyes. "But I fucked up. I really scared someone I care about, and I dont know how to make it right. He's one of the bravest people I know, and I am so lucky that in some capacity, he chose me." Hobie looked up, directly at you now, "I love you sweetheart. I'm sorry, I should have never put you in that position. Let me make it up to you. However I can baby, let me make it up to you."

You stopped going to meetings. Hobie introduced you to a group of black ballet dancers who he had met when a theater had accidentally double booked his band, and suddenly your community was started to look a lot bigger than the arts campus. He promised you that he would always go to the hospital when he was hurt like that, even if it meant supporting a system of bourgeois control over public health that contributed to the futile distribution of wealth under capitalism. You didn't quite catch that last part. He kept his promise. He made it up to you.

END

#hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown x oc #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown x y/n #fanfic #hobie brown x male reader #sfw little post #drabble

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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months

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✨Tear You Apart Prequel✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: The prequel is finally here! It came to me out of nowhere today while I was listening to “Wait” by Knuckle Puck on a loop. Now that, my friends, is the power of music. I love this little series so much, and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written! I love getting into the pit of Joel’s grief and showing that underneath all the hardness is just a soft man that wants someone to understand him 🥹 He deserves all the love.

Pairing: Outbreak! Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Word Count: 2.3k

Chapter Summary: This is where it all began, the first time you ever met Joel. He’s mean, rough around the edges, but you see through him. You feel his grief as much as you feel your own.

Chapter Tags: Outbreak au, Joel captures reader, dark! Joel, tender moments, grief, angst, tension, Joel needs a big hug

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The sharp rope scratches at your skin as you try to free your bondaged wrists from behind your back. You rock against the wooden chair and grit your teeth together as you bite back the urge to scream. It’d be no use. You’re under his watch, under his control, under his eyes. Those dark black pits that are filled with nothing but regret that devours his eyes, feeds on his soul like a pit of ash and nightmares. A monster that devours anything he can control, anything he can get his calloused fingers on.

He wants control, he thinks he has it, but that’s not the case. Not exactly. Because control is a weakness. He’s just a man that’s ruined from a dark world who has nothing left but his own misery to spread to anyone he can claw his jagged nails into. He wants others to feel exactly how he feels. Grief can do that, can change a man into a blood sucking monster. And that’s exactly what he is, the worst kind of them. Vengeful, disconnected, full of regret, used. Just like you are.

You watch him stalk around you, circling you like a vulture as he glides his calloused fingers over your skin. You see the way he moves. Slow, concentrated, shoulders hunched as the green flannel clings to his broad chest. Dangerous, dark, unkind. That’s all he shows, all he knows.

“Let me go,” you demand as you scrape your skin against the rough bindings and hiss when you feel blood against your wrists.

He clicks his tongue and ends right in front of you as he picks up a piece of your hair. “I don’t think so,” he chuckles darkly as he continues circling slowly. “You gonna tell me what you were doin’ outside my house in the middle of the night? Tryin’ to steal somethin’ from me, hmm?”

“No, I wasn’t stealing anything…”

“Liar!” His voice is blaring, echoing through the tiny basement that’s dark and filled with cold cement walls. Only a little light shines in the center of the room. Just enough to see the scowl that’s stretched across his angry face.

“I’m not lying, if you’d only just listen to me!” You fight back, your face burning fiery red as you try to pull free of your bindings again, but it’s no use. You’re stuck.

“I don’t listen to filthy little liars, sweetheart. Should’ve never come around these parts of the woods. It’ll only get you hurt,” he grins as dark eyes fill the dim room.

He slowly slides his fingers down your arm like a sly snake as you feel the bristles of callouses catch against your glistening skin. His skin is warm, burning into yours as you feel the fingerprints imprint into your forearm. He kneels down in between your legs as he rests one hand on your thigh, slowly opening the other as he settles between your legs. And then he looks up at you. That same unattached stare that belongs to the skin of a lone wolf.

“So, jus’ what am I gonna do with you, hmm?” he asks as he glides his fingers over your dark denim jeans. “Maybe paint the inside of your thighs white? Maybe sit you on my lap and have a little fun with you? Maybe…”

You shut him up as you inhale and spit into his face as a glob of your saliva lands in one of his eyes. You see him flare his nostrils as he wipes the spit off with his flannel sleeve and starts chuckling under his breath. “Oh, I like a little fight in a girl. Kinda turns me on more.”

Before you can react, he shoots up and grabs the back of your hair as he pulls hard and forces your eyes up. You grimace in pain as he pulls tighter. You look anywhere but at his eyes, so you just stare at his worn leather boots.

“Look at me,” he demands with gritted teeth as you feel his hot breath blow against the side of your neck. You turn your face and shake your head as you refuse to follow his strict orders.

He pulls tighter against your hair as you cringe and feel a cold teardrop lick at the corner of your eye. You can’t give in, can’t give in to him. You hear him growl loudly as he pulls and snarls a harsh order at you, “LOOK AT ME.”

You feel the tear run down your cheek as you carefully move your eyes to look at him, your eyebrows knit together in frustration as you stare coldly at the man that holds you captive. His nostrils flare, dark eyes burning into yours as you take a real good look at him for the very first time.

He’s so run down looking, tired, just like the broken watch that sits clasped around his left wrist. The hard lines paint maps across his wrinkled forehead, an old scar sits burning across the top of his right eye, his salt-and-pepper scruff is rugged looking as some of his thick, tousled strands of hair fall down into his dark eyes. His green flannel is worn, just like his dust covered boots weighing him down to the ground. And his eyes. There’s sadness, remorse, regret lying in those chocolate eyes. Eyes that beg for someone to take him out of his misery. Eyes that plead for goodness but are weighed down by the hardness of the sick world. Eyes that beg someone to feel everything he does. Eyes that scream for help.

He keeps a tight hold of you, fingers still locked around your hair as he pins you in place, the weight of his body sinking against yours as you feel the roughness of his beard slide against the side of your cheek. Before you know what you’re doing, you speak. “It’s all about control with you, isn’t it? You want someone to control because you can’t control what’s going on around you in this apocalyptic world. You want someone to blame, someone to use to take your own misery out on. Is that right?”

His dark pupils expand as he snarls against your face, his fingers gripping harder as your head snaps up and pain radiates through your skull. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ ‘bout, sweetheart. Better watch your mouth,” he growls as pain shoots down your neck.

You see the glisten of the broken glass on his watch, wonder why he wears a broken watch in the first place. It hits you like a hurricane crashing against a weak structure, spiraling your insides as if you feel his pain radiate down your body. He lost something dear to him, went through waves of pain you can only imagine. Just like you lost everything in your life.

He grabs another handful of hair until you shout into his weathered face. “I know what it’s like to lose something! You’ve lost someone, haven’t you?”

His snarl lessens as his narrowed eyes relax, his grip on you growing lighter as he breathes in steady breathes. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he bites back as you see pain as clear as day in his distant eyes. The dark flecks floating around like pieces of the past as loss is etched in shades of dark brown throughout his irises.

“That’s why you do this, isn’t it? You need the control, need to feel something other than the loss you carry. Need someone to fasten yourself to as you let the pain slip from your fingers so you can pour it out to strangers so they can feel that bit of pain you carry every single day.”

His eyes widen, his breath hitching as the weight of your words crashes over him. A realization taking form as his jaw ticks and his thick fingers run down to the edge of your hair. There’s no more pulling, just the mere brush of his fingertips against your thick hair.

“You want to do something to me? Fine, do your worst. But at the end of the day, it’s you that chooses to be a monster. You are the one in control.”

His eyes grow large as his breathing goes shallow. He drops the grip on your hair and stands abruptly as he paces the floor while raking a large hand through his scruff. He looks conflicted, torn up, ruined as he paces and paces the cement floor.

His body stills as he turns and looks at you, his eyes full of regret and sadness as the glint of tears wash over his deep brown eyes. He flexes his hand into a tight fist and clenches his jaw as he huffs out frustrated and grabs a sharp knife from the corner of the room. You freeze up until you realize he’s cutting your bindings free as the tattered rope falls to the floor.

“Go on. Get out of here. Leave,” he growls as he nods his head toward the rusty stairs and gives your shoulder a slight push.

“But I…”

“LEAVE!”

You stumble over to the staircase and start to move, but after the first rusty creak of the stair you can’t help but to look back at the man that burns with pain. You see him pacing back and forth slowly, his face is so tormented. You almost feel bad for him. Almost.

You cautiously step back off the stairs and slowly walk over to him as you shakily reach out a hand. You see his tense shoulders, his lowered head as he holds his hands over his face. That’s when you feel it. The sheer grief that plagues him night after night. You feel it burning deep in your soul as you stare at his weathered features. He’s so lost, scared.

You ever so slowly lift a hand and place it softly over the back of his shoulder, holding your breath as you’re sure he’ll knock you down to the floor. He turns sharply your way, and that’s when you see the glisten of tears in his eyes, a shade of dark blue that covers his entire being. Wrecked. He’s so wrecked.

“I see you. You’re not as alone as you think you are,” you whisper as you let your hand linger timidly on his broad shoulder for just a few more seconds. He stares at it, conflicted features running over his worn face and then slowly turns toward you, eyes the color of chestnut brown. He flinches when you finally drop your hand to your side and step back out of his reach.

His lip quivers, jaw clenching as tight as a fist as he stares at you with big chocolate eyes that glisten with held back tears. You know this pain, the unbearable agony of losing someone so close as they slip through your fingers and never return to the light of day. You know he’s hurting. You know.

You think of running your fingers over his patchy scruff but quickly talk yourself out of it, afraid he might snap at you again. One more look at dark eyes and you’re backing up, turning back to the staircase as you start to tread up heavy steps.

You hear him take a step toward you, hear his leather boots scuff against the hard ground as you look down and see the man with burning eyes. He looks like he wants to say something, looks like he might ask you to stay, but he stays silent. So you go, flee up the stairs, back to a semblance of peace.

Before you turn the old brass doorknob, you look back and find him looking in awe at you, his breathing ragged and his mouth parted open with bloodshot eyes. Eyes that beg you to stay.

“You know, you’re not really the monster you think you are.” His jaw goes slack, his arms heavy at his sides as he stares wide-eyed at you. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch, he just stares. Weepy eyes that cry out for just one soul to listen. You hear him though. You hear him.

You grip your raw, torn up wrists and feel the pain simmer down to your bones. This is the pain he must feel, too. The pain you might just understand. Maybe that’s why you almost stay, almost turn and reach for him again like you could take his pain away. But you don’t. At least not this time.

Before you overstay your welcome, you turn the cold doorknob and push past the opening as you flee the house that holds pain and regret. You slip your way outside and disappear into the thick trees, leaving just enough traces of footsteps for him to find you again.

This wasn’t the end. No. This was the very beginning, a beautiful cycle that’d keep spinning, a whirlwind of you and Joel. The moment everything changed. He claimed you from the beginning, the very minute he let you out of those ropes. It wasn’t over.

He’d find you again, hunt you down till he got his hands on you again. A little lamb that would feed the hungry wolf. A lone wolf that needed to feel again. And you were it. The undoing to his starving form. For he was just a man who longed to rid himself of all the suffering and pain he experienced day after day. You were exactly what he needed. It was you. So he’d follow you through the trees, track you down till he could taste nothing but you. You were the little lamb he desired, craved. And god, did he need you. He needed you…

Tagging some of you that read part 1 🩷 @janaispunk @amyispxnk @mountainsandmayhem @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @keylimebeag @untamedheart81 @bbyanarchist @bishtrouille @vividispunk @vivian-pascal @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @pedrostories @docharleythegeekqueen @rav3n-pascal22 @my-favorite-reading @silk-spun @fanfictilltheend @tuquoquebrute @beardedjoel @msjarvis @syd-djarin

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#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #dark!joel x reader #jackson!joel #outbreak!joel #post outbreak joel #tear you apart #joel miller au #joel miller the last of us #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #joel angst #joel miller smut

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ohraicodoll · 1 year

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I want more smut of joel and red🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

For all the people requesting a jealous!Joel fic companion to Territorial 💥

Dominant Joel Miller x Feral Reader The Last of Us 3.6k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: Jealous and rational don't mix. Warning: Explicit sexual content. 18+ Minors DNI

Joel knew Red was trying hard to be a part of the community. And he was proud of her, proud of all the progress she had made, excluding a few setbacks but some of them weren’t her fault.

She was a different person when other people were around or when she was outside the walls of their house. She’d always been quick to argue with him, could easily chat with Ellie, and late at night they’d talk about whatever came to mind in hushed whispers between cooling sheets. Outside though, it was hard for her to speak a full sentence easily, much less a whole conversation. She growled more often than not, glared constantly, most of the time wouldn’t even respond at all. She talked clearest when she was angry. He never thought he’d be the more talkative person in a relationship, but here they were. So he was surprised to see her talking to someone else. Was even more surprised when he saw her talking to them multiple times. Noah worked at the wood mill some times and on the construction crew when they needed him. Joel had worked with him a few times, the most recent being the second water tower they were building, but he was more focused on the job than making friends. The guy was younger than him, brighter, sometimes a little cocky. Eager to please and overconfident. Which is why he was confused Red of all people was talking to him. She was quick to push people away that tried to approach her. It was something they were working on, but she had only a small, small circle of people that she was mildly comfortable with and only them. Noah was not in that circle. Noah didn’t work in the kennels or do patrol consistently, the two places Red would be around other people most. She didn’t go to the food halls, she didn’t go to the monthly Jackson get-togethers, and she wasn’t a part of the welcoming committee. But there she was, arms crossed, nodding to whatever Noah was saying outside one of the community scrap heaps. Joel chewed on his lip, brow furrowed, watching intently and trying to decipher what their lips were saying from a distance. The younger guy was talking a bit rapidly, head bobbing, with his eyes focused on her with a small smile. And she nodded back, twisting the rubber band around her wrist, before replying.

There was no stutter. He watched her mouth and the way they formed words. Joel had watched that mouth more times than he would care to admit and knew her patterns. No stutter.

Something in his gut tightened and his frown deepened.

When their conversation ended, Noah laughed at something and waved goodbye. Red turned and started to walk away, her eyes on the ground and lip between her teeth when she caught sight of him across the way. They always could feel when the other was around, a sense developed over the months traveling. Like two magnets.

Joel was leaning against one of the walls and didn’t look away as she headed over, his arms crossed tight across his chest. The weather was in that state where it didn’t know if it wanted to be cold or warm and the flannel shirt he had on was rolled up to the elbows, her own unbuttoned and hanging loose over an undershirt. He was sure that was his shirt as well.

“Hey,” she greeted him and he wanted to drink in the softness in her voice that was only for him and Ellie.

He nodded back and instantly the words were out of his mouth before he could process them, “What were you up to?” It didn’t sound accusatory, thankfully, it was luckily more curious in tone but for some reason it filled him with anxiety seeing her talking to another man easily. One that was younger and attractive.

Red’s eyes met his briefly then averted as she shrugged, “Just kennel stuff.” No further explanation. He knew when she was lying and the anxiety tightened.

But pushing Red was like moving an immovable wall sometimes and he wasn’t going to keep at it when there was no reason to push. It would piss her off and the last thing he needed was a faceoff after the long morning he had dealing with Tommy and the construction crew.

So he let it go, walking with her back home, his hand in her back pocket.

That night the thoughts surged back to life.

The anxiety and tiny hints of fear were on his tongue and he tried to bury them in her skin. Hands fisting in her hair as he pulled her head to the side and left a trail of bruises along her neck, sucking and licking his way to the stars tattooed on her collarbone. He remembered the first time he got to kiss that very spot, how he had been picturing it even when they snapped at each other. The memory twisted and turned into a need to show her exactly what he could do to her, how he could make her feel.

It wasn’t quite worshiping. He wasn’t a beggar at her altar. No, that wasn’t them.

She was his and it was a reminder, a hand on her neck to show her where she belonged. That they were blood and death and teeth and needed each other and the other men were too soft skinned for her. They’d try to tame her and he wanted her as she was.

His hands were large on her and he gripped her tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs and pulling her wet core to his mouth. Joel devoted all his focus to making the rise of her breath hitch, to pulling a symphony of moans from her mouth as she squirmed against his tongue. He licked and sucked every ounce of fight from her, having her panting and thrusting into his mouth. She came hard and even then, he didn’t let up, growling at her when her hands tried to bat him away and only shoving his palm against her stomach to hold her down and in place.

The second orgasm exploded out of her and he watched as her back arched off the bed, memorizing the way the moon glistened on her sweat soaked body. He fucked her hard, his name spilling from her mouth in a chorus, urging him on. He relished in the sound of it. And when he came and spilled into her, both of them heaving and warm bodies clinging together, he hoped he was branded into her skin the way she was burned into him. It was a hiccup, a small moment of jealousy over nothing, and he drowned it out. She was his. It flared back to life after seeing Noah talking to her at the kennels. Maggie the mama dog was loose and trotting around at their feet happily, free from her needy pups, while Red talked to him. His hand would come down and pat the dog as he nodded along to whatever she was telling him. She seemed confident, focused, and it twisted something to see her interacting with someone else like that. Part of him argued that he should be proud of her, that this was what they wanted. The other part wanted to rip the guy’s eyes out for even looking at her. Something hot and tight flared in his chest, pressing against his lungs, and he couldn’t keep himself from heading over, footsteps heavy and brow pinched together. Her words faltered as she caught sight of him and that coil in his chest tightened a bit more. Maggie wagged her tail and hopped around him, excited to see someone she interacted with often. Joel wanted to seem casual, wanted to not seem like the jealous asshole boyfriend-partner-whatever he was. But seeing her next to Noah again with her hair up, neck a long naked slope, worn jeans clinging to her thighs, made him all too aware how good she looked. And he was sure others had noticed that as well. The soft, “Hey” she greeted him with was muffled in his head as he walked up to her and instead of greeting her normally, he pulled her into a hard kiss. His hand was on her cheek, tilting her head up, while his other found its spot in her back pocket, squeezing her backside through the jeans. He was never into PDA, had never kissed her in public, but this was less about them and more about the clear message he was sending to Noah. She was his. She bit down on his lower lip, not too hard, but clear in its own message. A warning. Joel pulled away and didn’t meet her eyes, could feel the suspicion burning into his face from her gaze as he turned and looked at Noah. “What’s going on here?” He tried to keep his voice calm and level, more interested than prying, but he knew he was scowling. Noah was hardly ever intimidated by him when they worked but knew what to avoid to keep from getting glared at. Now he looked nervous and Red’s gaze had swiveled back to look at him, trying to communicate something Joel wasn’t sure about. Lips pressed together tightly, the younger guy shook his head, hands slightly raised, “Nothin’ much! Just going over some uh…stuff here. Uh, I’ll catch you later, Red.” When he went to scurry off, Maggie tried to follow a bit as if curious as to where one of her friends was going. Red only let out a sharp whistle and the dog came back immediately to her feet. She had the dogs trained to a tee. Her brow was lowered and she pulled away from him, heading back inside the kennels without a word. Joel sighed, knowing he was heading into a fight and that tightness in his chest growing, and followed after while closing the large doors behind him. “You wanna tell me what that was about?” he asked roughly and watched as she let Maggie back into her pen, picking up the puppies that were trying to escape and gently pushing them back in.

“You first,” she grunted and headed to the back area where the supplies were kept, “That was new.” The statement was accusatory, questioning, almost mocking. The dogs hopped and whined as she passed, vying for her or Joel’s attention, and potentially sensing the growing tension in the room. Joel grit his teeth and shook his head, “I didn’t like how he was looking at you-” “So you shoved your tongue down my throat?” she scoffed and turned around to face him, lips twisted down in a frown. “You haven’t complained before,” he dryly commented as if to brush it off, closing in on her until they stood close together. She quirked a brow and let out an unamused laugh, “Miller, people are intimidated by you enough without you throwing your dick around. He’s just doing a job for me.” He wanted to believe her, but the tiny signs were still there that she wasn’t being completely truthful. And it burned deep into him because she hardly ever lied to him before. She was direct in what she would and wouldn’t talk about, would dodge around what she couldn’t answer truthfully. But lying wasn’t done often and it didn’t quell the tightening in his chest. He continued to walk forward, her own position unyielding and refusing to step back, until he was chest to chest with her, “Just a job, huh? One you haven’t mentioned before and won’t talk about? You hidin’ something, Starshine?” Her smile had an edge, teeth bared, and she raised her head chin to face him head on, “What do you want me to say? That I’m sucking his dick behind the back of the building in my spare time? That I let him fuck me when you aren’t looking? What, Tex?” Joel’s hand came up and gripped her chin tightly, the other finding its spot on her hip and squeezing the flesh bruisingly. It was so easy to slip back into being rough with each other, for their touches to turn hard and painful, but they never shied away from it. Her eyes had darkened, lust and fury in them, and he could feel it echoed back, “I know you’re not. But it doesn’t mean he’s not imagining it. He needed to know to keep his eyes to himself. Understand?” “Yes, sir,” she hissed out sarcastically. Memories of a darkened store out there in the wild, of those very words, hit him from months before and then his mouth was on hers again. She didn’t fight him, only kissed him back hard enough their teeth clacked and her tongue was instantly in his mouth. In a way, this was a different form of fight. Both of them trying to get the upper hand, dominating one another. He backed her up until she met the edge of the work table, items clattering all over the tabletop as her ass hit the wood. Breaking from her mouth, he spun her around and bent her over roughly, his hand spread out over the base of her spine and taking in the curve her body splayed out before him. Fingers moved her hair out of the way so he could press open mouth kisses along the back of her neck, pulling her shirt collar down to continue their exploration. His hips were firmly against her ass and she shifted, pressed back into him and his clothed erection. Joel groaned into her skin and bit off a curse, hands quickly moving around to find the buttons of her jeans.

It was all a rush, her jeans yanked down her thighs while he went to unbuckle his own. Sometimes he missed the dangerous hectic pace of being out beyond Jackson’s walls. The quick moments they’d find together in the dark, harsh and fast and so aware of the peril that could find them. It had been exciting and even if he liked the safety of Jackson, a part of him would always crave that danger. It was partially what drew him to her.

Her nails gripped the table and he grunted, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants and hand finding the soft folds between her legs. Fuck, she was already wet and he enjoyed the moans in her chest as his fingers slid around her clit, covering her in her own arousal. He was already so hard, rubbing his dick along her core and letting her coat him.

“Fuck,” she whispered into the tabletop, forehead pressing into it.

“Come on, darlin’, haven’t even gotten to that part yet,” he chuckled. His hands dug into the bare skin of her hips, feeling the small marks and scars there, savoring the texture. Sometimes in the mornings he’d skim his fingers over the bruises he would leave there, evidence of him left behind on her skin. He slid into her so easily, like she was welcoming him home. Warm and tight and Joel almost groaned at the feeling. She pushed her hips into him until he was fully seated in her, demanding, and he shook his head at her need to still be in control even when he had her bent over a table at his mercy. She felt like heaven every single time. Soft and hot on the inside, all teeth and armor on the outside. Fuck, if she wasn’t gorgeous. A well crafted blade, sharp but enticing. Something everyone wanted and couldn’t have for fear they’d be cut. But everyday he slid his finger along her edge and welcomed the blood she brought to the surface with a bare touch. He’d let her cut him a thousand times over just to have her. Joel gave her what she wanted- demanded in that silent way of hers. Fingers gripping, he slid in and out of her slowly before driving into her hard and rough. He branded her skin with his scent, his touch. She wouldn’t choose someone else, he knew that, but it was hard to see that clearly when so many things had been taken away. He’d let so many things slip away out of his fingers because he didn’t hold on tight enough. He wouldn’t do that with her. He would shackle himself to her and hold on with all his might because he wouldn’t lose her. All of his fears and desperations drove into her with each thrust and he was lost in the feeling. Bending down over her, he clasped one hand around hers as it gripped the table's edge, able to tell from the hitch in her breathing and the way she was tightening around him that she was close to her breaking point. “Come on, baby, let yourself go,” he hummed into her ear and felt her fall apart in answer, defiance gone. He pumped into her through her orgasm, coaxing her through its end and feeling the pressure build inside himself as she tightened around his cock. Release came soon after and he groaned into the space between her shoulders, their hair mingling together as his body draped over her. They were both panting, boneless and sweaty on top of the table as the world came back into focus. The smell of the hay and stables, the dirt on the floor, the whines of the dogs. The fact this was still a public spot. She cursed softly and with a more pained groan this time, he pulled out of her. It was hard to walk, but he managed to find a clean cloth and water not far away and cleaned her up carefully, listening to her hitch in breath when he slid the fabric along her sensitive center. He was the one to pull up her pants for her after tucking himself away and buckling his own. She stood up and leaned against the table, watching him as he set about silently fixing her jeans and righting her clothes. There was a nervousness in him that he wasn’t sure about. As if exposing that he’d been jealous was exposing a raw nerve. She wasn’t extremely younger than him, but he was aware of all his faults. His hearing, the way he was slowing down, his age. She’d never blinked an eye at any of it but there were other options now in Jackson. And as much as he tried to tell himself that she wasn’t the type to go looking, he still knew there was a 1% chance that she would.

“Feel better?” she asked huskily, hands resting on the edge of the table. “Not really,” Joel sighed, hip cocked out with his fingers in his belt loops, staring down at the dirt floor. They didn’t say anything for a second before she sighed and crossed her arms, “He’s building a craft table for you.” Well that certainly shocked him back into awareness, “What?” She scowled, obviously miffed about having to reveal it to him, and raised a brow, “Surprise.” “What do you mean he’s building a craft table for me?” Joel repeated with a heavy set brow. That feeling in his chest tightened, released as if letting out a deep sigh, before tightening back up. But she only shrugged, “Exactly what I said. That’s the job I asked him to do. He’s trading for one of the puppies when they’re big enough, but he’s collecting any spare tools he can find along with some books on woodworking and guitar building for you. I figured we could try and fix that broken guitar that we had come across a few miles south. Ta-da.” Joel could only stare as the words sank in, face frozen in a hard frown as he struggled to process her words. It was all said so monotone and he could tell she had wanted to wait to tell him about it. She was annoyed. All he could get out was, “You know those puppies technically aren’t yours?” She shrugged again with a roll of her eyes, “Community puppies. I’m trading with the community. Same thing. And please don’t scowl and run him off when he delivers the damn table to the house. I really don’t want to have to try and approach another new person anytime soon and start this whole process over again. Tommy had to help introduce me the first time and I’ve had to listen to Noah talk constantly. It’s honestly awful.” He almost laughed at the uncomfortable look that crossed her face and mentally noted that Tommy had known about this project and never told him. He’d have to have a word with his little brother about next time maybe finding her help that was a lot older and not good looking. Joel chewed on his lip, sighing, feeling the guilt start to take hold. She was watching him expectantly and he shook his head, avoiding her eye contact, “I guess I should say sorry.” “You guess?” “I am sorry,” he grunted, hands on his hips and kicking the dirt underneath his foot, “I might have overreacted.” She raised a brow at that again but said nothing, only looking skyward in silent prayer, “And just for your information, not that it matters, but Noah has a partner he won’t shut up about. He definitely likes to bark up a different kind of tree.” When the information sunk in, she finally did laugh at the look on his face and pushed herself off the table, looping her arm through his. He didn’t reply and only let himself sink deeper in the hole he had made. She seemed okay with letting that be his punishment. The table was delivered a week later and Joel forced a smile on his face and tried not to appear too guilty as Noah left, hearing Red laughing from behind the screen door as he did so.

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