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yeollie-plz · 3 months

Text

Light The Flame

mbf! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Part 2

Synopsis: Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?

Genre: fluff, angst, and smut! the trifecta!

Warnings: divorced parents, mentions of cheating, no Sarah, no outbreak, drinking, age gap (reader is said to be in college but Joel's exact age isn't stated), Tommy is a bit of a sleaze, kissing, 18+ content, p in v sex, protected sex!, lots of different sexual acts, cursing

Gif credits to owners!

Inspired by this post from @deathsholywaterr ! I hope I did your idea justice!!

Also this shit is long so buckle up!

It had been about three months since your parents' divorce was officially finalized. Your dad had moved out long ago and with no other ties keeping her in California, she decided to move back to her hometown in Texas. And although you would miss your friends and the life you had in LA, you couldn't shake the feeling that you needed (and deserved) a change. Plus, you had just found out your boyfriend was sleeping with your so called best friend. So, yeah, you wanted to get out as soon as possible.

All of your stuff was packed into a moving van and moved across the United States. You knew Texas would be super different, but a welcome change. Not to mention a chance to reinvent yourself. Taking college classes and finding your path in life, that was the goal. But, of course, a girl still needs to have a bit of fun and you and you had heard Texas nightlife was very fun!

That's how you found yourself, perched on a barstool, at a downtown Austin bar, listening to drunk people sing karaoke only hours after unpacking your clothes. You giggled lightly to yourself as a very drunk man hit a way too high note. Rotating the barstool around to place your now empty glass on the counter and just as you were about to motion the bar tender over to order another a man settled in next to you. He leaned against the counter, a bit closer to you than you would've liked.

"Hello gorgeous, how 'bout you let me get you a drink?" His words slurred together as the smell of the beer on his breath wafted towards you. Your nose scrunched in disgust.

"How about no?" Your tone was sweet, but your words were not as you batted your eyelashes at the man. He was cute, but you weren't exactly in the mood for flirting especially with someone as intoxicated as him.

"Come on, one drink. We don't even gotta have a conversation, just wanna know your name. I'm Tommy by the way." He held out his hand, with how close he was it almost hit you in the face. You recoiled.

That's when a different man appeared next to the two of you, he grabbed Tommy by the bicep and yanked his hand back. Then pulled his body a few feet away from you, finally giving you the space you had been wanting the whole time.

"I'm sorry about him, sugar. My brother is an idiot and I'm an idiot for thinking he'd be okay alone for five minutes." He turns to Tommy. "Can't even let me pee, without causing me problems, can you?"

Trying to hold back your smile, you flattened out your skirt, getting rid of the imaginary wrinkles in it. The brother's eyes lock onto your hands, seemingly just now taking you in. He gulps as his eyes glaze over, then clears his throat.

"I really am sorry about him. Here, let me buy you a drink." He says and you almost giggle at how badly the two brothers want to buy you alcohol.

"Don't worry about it! Sadly, I am used to drunk men coming up to me. I appreciate it though, but honestly I should get home." He looks lost in thought, like he's debating offering to drive you home. But just as he opens his mouth Tommy slips and falls, almost taking his brother down with him. Then, who you're assuming is the older one tries to get him back to his feet.

He continues to struggle to get Tommy up, as you stand from your seat after placing a few dollars onto the bar for tip. Tommy drops to the floor again and he sighs. Ruffling through his pocket he pulls out his card and hands it to you.

With a quick, "If you ever want that drink." Before getting Tommy to his feet and pushing him back to where they must have been sitting. You glance at the card wanting to know his name.

Joel

A few days later, you found yourself at the grocery store. You wandered aimlessly through the aisles. Half in an attempt to orientate yourself with the new areas and half just looking for what sounded good. You wanted snacks, just weren't sure what exactly. As you pushed your now pretty full cart down the wine aisle, you saw a familiar face at the other end.

You tracked him with your eyes for a second before his met yours. A smile graced his lips, eyebrows raising in surprise. Honestly you were surprised yourself. Not only did he recognize you, but he was happy to see you.

Making his way towards you, he offered you a small wave, which you returned. Your cheeks heated up slightly, you remembered he was attractive, but now in the bright florescence it showed even more. Glancing down at your outfit, you cursed yourself for not putting in just a bit more effort this morning.

"Hello again." Joel said when he finally made it over to you.

"Hello again," You mirrored his words, "Wasn't sure you would recognize me just now." You cursed yourself at the words you let slip out. Insecurities on full display.

"Of course I would recognize that beautiful face again." He says nonchalantly, like he didn't just openly call you beautiful. Like he didn't just openly flirt with you!

Cheeks flushed, you cleared your throat, "Did...uh...did you and Tommy get home alright?" He smiles like you've said something funny.

"We did, you?" Awkwardly, you shift your weight.

"I did."

He looks at you with the same smile from before, something mischievous now playing in his eyes. Cocking his head at you, he looks like he is trying to get you to say more.

"You never called, don't want that drink, sugar?" Now you are adorning a playful look back. He was scared you weren't going to call him?

"I was getting to it." You say, simply. Not wanting to come off too desperate, but also not letting his hopes get dashed.

"I was really looking forward to seeing you again." Joel takes a step closer to you.

"I might be at the bar sometime this weekend, maybe you will." At your words his eyes darken slightly. He knows you are toying with him.

Taking one more step towards you he leans down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, "Maybe I will." And he's trying to play back. He smirks at you before offering you another wave and walking off into the depths of the store.

You are left there, blinking and blushing at his retreating figure.

That weekend, you were doing your makeup oh so precisely. The dress you had picked out hugged your figure perfectly. You wore your best heels. Your hair was meticulous. Now to just hope Joel showed.

It's not like the two of you picked a specific day or time so what if he wasn't there? You couldn't think like that, you could only hope for the best and look your best too.

As you pushed open the door of the same bar you had first met Joel at the cool air washed over you, causing you to shiver. That's when your eyes met with his. It was almost like he had his eyes trained onto the door, just waiting for you to arrive. It looked like he chuckled at your shiver as he stood and made his way over to you.

"Cold princess?" His head cocked at you in amusement.

You crossed your arms, "Actually I'm just fine." And with a nod you saunter past him and towards the bar to order a drink.

He follows closely behind him and you just know he's smirking at your response. Joel lets you attempt, and fail, to gain the bartenders attention. Before he places a hand lightly on your shoulder and nods as if to say "watch this".

Bringing his fingers to his lips he blows out a loud whistle, your eyes widen in shock. He smirks down at you before making eye contact with the bar tender who is now staring incredulously at Joel.

"Joe, think you can get my girl here a drink?" My girl? He didn't mean it like that, he couldn't have.

"Only since she's so pretty. But you? I've told you about doing that, Miller. So annoying." The bartender, Joe, mumbles the last part more to himself but both you and Joel hear it. Joel laughs behind you, you feel the rumble of his chest against your back. A shiver runs down your spine.

He leans down, talking into your ear, "Sure you aren't cold?"

You roll your eyes, he knows what he's doing. Actually, he's doing it on purpose. Letting out a scoff, you readjust your position on the stool allowing your body to graze against Joel's a bit more. His hand reaches out to grip the edge of the bar. You can feel his eyes boring into you, his knuckles are turning white. Yep, you know what you're doing as well.

And just as Joel was about to say something else to you, Joe comes back with two drinks in hand. He passes a smaller glass to Joel, with what you assume is scotch in it. Then he passes a taller glass with a mixed drink in it to you. Its the same drink you got the other night you came in and you wonder how Joe remembered. But you brush it off as good customer service and take a sip of your fruity drink.

Joel smirks down at you as you are obviously enjoying your drink ad sips his as well. The ice clinks in his glass when he sits down the half empty vessel next to you.

Once again, he speaks into your ear, "Why don't we find a booth?" Nodding in response, he holds his hand out to you to help you off of the stool. You can't help the blush that rises to your cheeks at how much of a gentleman he is.

The two of you sat and talked for hours. Subtle flirts, learning about each other, anything and everything. Although you weren't sure you were ready for a relationship after the train wreck that was your last one, you enjoyed Joel's company and it seemed like he enjoyed yours. Plus, it didn't hurt to just have a strictly physical relationship, did it?

Thats how you found yourself agreeing to another date with Joel. Thats how you found yourself moving your hips into his on the dance floor. And thats how you found yourself in his bed later that night.

Currently he was sitting on the edge of the bed, your legs straddling his as you kissed fervently. Your hips moved seemingly on their own, grinding your clothed core down onto his jean clad member. He groans into your mouth when you grind down even rougher. Big hands grip onto your hips, stilling your movements.

"Careful princess." His voice is deep as he mutters into your lips before catching them in a deep kiss again. This causes you to now let out a moan. Damnit if you weren't the most turned on you've ever been.

Joel seems to catch onto the faster movements of your hips, knowing you need more. His lips trial down your neck to the juncture of your shoulder, he bits you lightly before licking over the marks. You gasp, bucking your hips forward at the feeling. He smirks against your skin and moves his lips down your exposed chest. Silently thanking yourself for wearing such a low cut top.

Lips ghost against the skin of your breast before he pulls your shirt aside to let one boob out of its constraints. He sucks your nipple into his mouth and that's when you fully loose yourself into the pleasure. If you weren't fucked before, you sure were now. Well...you were going to be soon hopefully.

Pulling off of your bud, his breath fans over the sensitive skin causing a shiver to run down your spine. Something flashes in his eyes as a smirk graces his lips.

"Either you're always cold or I really have an effect on you." He says, craning his neck back towards your lips. You roll your eyes before he's meeting lips with your own and flipping you over to lay on the bed.

Your head lands all but gracefully on the plush surface, his lips never leaving yours. The hands that were on your hips, now explored your body leaving goosebumps in their wake. One massaged your still covered breast, the other slowly made its way up the inside of your thigh. His fingers tentatively crossed over your core and up to the buttons of your pants. Your need to have him inside of you grew stronger as you lifted your hips involuntarily, trying to urge him to take of your pants.

"So desperate." Is all Joel says before he is popping open the first button. Then the next. Then the next. Slowly he unbuttons them all and pulls your pants just as slowly down your legs. The pace makes you whimper out.

He was right, you were desperate. But with how slow he was going, who wouldn't be?

"I want to taste that pretty pussy." Joel says as he finally makes eye contact with your lacy underwear.

"Please, I just want you inside me." He gives you a look at your words, like he wasn't sure you meant it. Or he wasn't sure you were that ready?

"Next time, please Joel just fuck me already."

He seems to contemplate this for a second, but ultimately agrees, "Your wish is my command."

He slips out of his own shirt and quickly slides his jeans off too. Standing there in just his underwear, you swear you could pass out from the view alone. But your head was too cloudy to say anything. Joel seemed to see the lust in your eyes and just shook his head before grabbing a condom from the nightstand.

"Take your shirt off for me, sugar." Its a bit more of a request than a command but you follow it like it was an order. You had to admit it was a bit sexy to be told what to do.

"Good girl, let me see how wet you are." He stands over you while stroking his hardening dick through his underwear. You watch in awe before following his instructions and pull your own panties off of you.

Spreading your legs, you display your pussy to him and he groans at the sight. He strokes himself a bit faster as you slide your fingers through your soaked folds. Fingers dip into your opening and you hold back your reaction, keeping your eyes locked onto his. When your fingers are thoroughly coated in your juice, you trail them up your torso to your mouth. Sucking your fingers in and licking them clean.

Darkness fills Joel's eyes as he decides this is the last straw and he is on top of you in a instant. Pulling your fingers out of your mouth he shoves them into his own, swirling his tongue around your digits.

Quickly he pushes off of you just to take off his underwear and slip the condom onto his painfully hard penis. You gulp at the sight, mouth watering like you've been in a desert for days. You make a note that next time you must also taste him.

But, these thoughts leave your head as quickly as they came because Joel is pushing his member into you. As the tip breaches your entrance, you are gasping and gripping onto his arms for support. You feel his muscles tensing under your fingertips as he begrudgingly paces himself, trying to let you adjust

You almost giggle at the pained look on his face. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you hook your ankles together and pull him the rest of the way inside of you. He has to catch himself from falling on top of you from both a mixture of shock and the forceful nature of your movement.

Eyes meet yours with a shocked look. You just give him a smirk and a shrug in return. Regaining his composure, he pulls out of almost completely. So painfully slowly that you almost keel over. You know its your punishment for what you had done and you were feeling the full force of your actions.

But, the punishing doesn't last long as he enters you again. He thrusts out to his tip again only quicker and rougher. Continuing this action of thrusting in and out of you picking up a tempo.

After letting out another moan when he slams into you particularly hard, you crane you neck slightly to see the look on his face. He seems to have fully lost himself in the pleasure. The teasing is all lost and he is now fully focused on getting you both to your orgasms.

Joel is now fucking into you with no more reservations. He reaches a hand between the two of you, using his thumb to rub your clit. He rubs the bud in circles, trying to work you towards your peak.

"Cum for me, princess." He says with a grunt, gripping your hips roughly. His hips snap into yours roughly.

You feel the beginnings of your orgasm. The coil in your stomach begins to tighten. Your hips buck up at the feeling, needing to orgasm.

"Joel!" You gasp out as you are pushed over the edge. You clench around his cock, pussy urging him to cum as well.

Working you through your orgasm, he continues his motions on your clit. He thrusts are getting a bit out of rhythm as he is also reaching his own peak. Leaning over you he reattaches his lips to yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

As his hips stutter into yours he is thrusting into you one last time before spilling his load into the condom. Joel moans into your mouth as he works himself through his orgasm. Hips slow down as his orgasm ends and Joel is plopping down next to you. Wrapping you in his arms as his member is still inside of you.

All that is heard in the room is heavy breathing for a minute as Joel's sweaty body surrounds yours. You look up at him and his eyes meet yours. A smile graces his lips before he is pecking your nose and bringing you even closer to him.

Eventually, he pulls out of you and ties of the condom. Moving to toss it in the en suite before returning just to wrap you back into his warm embrace.

After the first time you and Joel hooked up, the two of you hung out at least three times a week. You would go to the bar, get a few drinks, talk a bit, laugh a bit. But you would always end up back at Joel's place. In his bed. In his arms.

Your mom was also starting to catch onto something going on with you. With you coming home late, giggling on your phone, smiling randomly at the thought of Joel. Not to mention, you were acting a bit shady. Even your friend noticed a change when she called you the other day.

But it was nothing but physical, right? Right...

Pushing open the door as silently as you could, you slightly stumbled into the dark house. Still a little tipsy as well as a bit of jelly legs from your earlier activities. Slipping off your shoes and picking them up so your heels wouldn't echo, you tried to reach the stairs to your room.

The minute your hand grabbed the banister, the lights in the living room flipped on like some movie scene. Your mom sat on the couch, arms crossed staring at you.

Jumping you tried to calmly greet her, "Hey mom."

"Don't 'hey mom' me, where have you been?" She was never this serious, so it scared you slightly.

"Out, I found a bar in town and I've been hanging out there." You didn't want to mention Joel just yet. One because how did you explain to your mom that you had a fuck buddy. And two that that fuck buddy was almost twice your age.

"By yourself?" Shit, she saw right through you.

"I mean, I talk to a few people there. Made friends with the bar tender. Well sort of, he's a bit serious and-"

She held up her hand to stop your rambling. You snapped your mouth shut.

"Who drove you home?" Joel had been driving you home from his house almost every time you guys hung out. He didn't like you taking a taxi that late.

You gulped, "I got a taxi."

"I know that's not true, Y/N. You're seeing someone. I can tell. You're different since we moved here and I think it has to do with someone." Your eyebrows furrow at her confession. Was she mad at you for staying out or mad at you for keeping secrets from her?

"Okay, maybe I am. I'm an adult!" You really weren't sure what she wanted to hear at this moment.

"You are, but I just want to make sure you are responsible."

Now you were rolling your eyes and crossing your arms back at her.

"Responsible? I can assure you I am." What did she think? That you were going around sleeping with randos and not using protection?

"Good," She stood up now and made her way over to you, "I just want to make sure you're okay, sweetie. After all that happened before..." She trailed off when she saw the hurt on your face at the mention of your ex.

She continued, "Anyways, I can see you're happy, so I won't pester you much about it anymore. But, can you at least try to come home earlier. You know I worry." She places a kiss on your forehead and moves past you up the stairs a bit, only turning back to hear your reply.

"I will, I'm sorry you were worried." You smile at her, she returns that smile.

Making her way to her room she shouts back one more thing before closing herself in her room, "And I wanna meet him sometime!"

This has you gulping, breathing cut short, body rigid. How were you going to get out of this one?

The next morning as you sluggishly made your way to the kitchen, you were greeted by your overly excited mother.

"Morning sweetie!" You almost cringe at her loud voice, feeling the effects of your late night.

"Morning." You grumble out, before making your way to the pantry to find something to eat.

She's humming to herself as she cooks some eggs on the stove. At first you don't think much of it, until you notice her almost bouncing on the balls of her feet. It makes you take a pause, she was excited about something and she definitely wanted to tell you about it.

"Why are you so happy?" You ask with a smile in your voice. Leaning against the pantry door, you make eye contact with her. She blushes, smiles, and then looks back down at her eggs.

"Remember how I told you I went out with a group of friends from high school the other night?" You nod recalling how she animatedly told you about that night and all the nostalgia.

"Well, we are all hanging out again tonight. I'm just excited." Now you nod in acknowledgement. But she did seem a bit more excited than just a hang out, eh whatever.

You went back to looking for your cereal, grabbing it and a bowl. While pouring your cereal into your bowl, your mom speaks again.

"Plus, I might have a man too." Jumping slightly at her confession, you almost spill your cereal. You weren't sure you were ready for her to date again. It seemed weird after your parents had just divorced. You'd never seen either of them with anyone else, just strange.

She continues without you saying anything, "We went to school together. Used to have a bit of crush on him back then, but never worked out. Anyway, he was with us that other night and when I tell you he aged well!"

Almost laughing at how your mom was acting like one of your friends. Cute little crush and everything! You still felt a bit weird about hearing something like this from her. First of all, ew! Second of all, was she ready?

"Oh, that's nice." Is all you can manage to say, before taking a bite of your cereal, that you had just finished pouring milk into.

"'That's nice.'" She repeats, setting her spatula down and not making eye contact with you.

"Yeah, mom, that's nice. It will be nice for you, after dad..." You trail off, not sure if this is a sore subject or not. The two of you didn't talk much about the divorce anymore. So you thought it better to tread lightly.

"I think so too." She says, a bit more happier now as she resumes her eggs.

Yep, it will be nice.

After your awkward breakfast with your mom, you returned to your room to text Joel. If your mom was going out, you might as well too, right?

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a message. Quickly dropping whatever you were previously doing you crashed down onto your stomach on your bed. Kicking your feet as you unlocked your phone to read the message.

Joel: Sorry, sugar but I have plans tonight. Tomorrow?

You sigh, guess everyone was busy tonight.

You: No worries! See you tomorrow!

Sighing, you flipped onto your back, staring at your ceiling trying to think of what was going to keep you occupied tonight.

You decided to take the time for a self care night. Painted your nails, did a face mask, read a bit, before ultimately ending up in the bath.

The soak felt nice and after weeks of not focusing on yourself enough, it also felt nice to just relax. Plus, if you were glowing the next time you saw Joel, he probably wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of you.

That's how you found yourself, wrapped up in your soft robe propped up at your vanity. Hair wrapped in a towel while you rubbed lotion into your legs.

Just as you were finishing up, the doorbell rang downstairs. Sighing, not really wanting an interruption, but needing to answer it nonetheless. You pushed up from your seat and made your way downstairs. Not even bothering to change out of your robe.

And you would have never expected what you were about to see on the other side of the door as you swung it open.

There stood Joel and another lady, trying to hold up your very drunk mother. Eye immediately lock onto Joel's, an apologetic look on his face as he wasn't sure what to say.

Your mother however saw you and tried to rush at you to hug you. Slurring about this and that. How much fun she had, how pretty you were, anything and everything that came to her inebriated mind.

Joel and the lady held her back, trying to keep her on her feet and off of you. After the initial shock of the moment, you finally realized they were probably trying to get you to let them inside.

"Oh! Um, come in. I'm sorry about her, uh maybe just put her on the couch?" You gesture towards the living room and move aside to let all three of them through. Joel glances back at you as you close the door, eyes also trained onto him.

They try to place your mother onto the couch as carefully as they can, but she falls to the side anyways. You are almost horrified at the situation. Joel, here. Your mom, drunk. Joel with your drunk mom.

Joel clears his throat while the lady is busying herself with your mom, "As you can see, she's a bit tipsy." He states the obvious, you bite your lip as he shuffles from foot to foot nervously.

"A bit." You conclude.

"Yeah, uh, it might have been my idea to play a drinking game. Sorry!" The lady on the couch calls over her shoulder, returning to your mom.

Your eyes never leave Joel's. As the shock subsides, you finally put some pieces together. Your mom was going to see some high school friends. Joel was one of your mom's high school friends. You were hooking up with your mom's friend. Fuck!

Joel tries to read your face, you can see how he wants to go over to you. Wants to apologize properly or explain himself. Anything to make you feel better.

"Sug-Uh, Y/N right?" He almost lets his pet name for you out. You nod, like he doesn't moan out your name nightly.

"'m Joel and that's Linda." You nod again. What then fuck is happening right now?

"Do you think we should take her upstairs?" The lady, Linda, finally turns to look at you. She scans you and you only just now realize what you are wearing. Or lack of what you are wearing. Eyes shift to Joel, who is seemingly now taking in your appearance as well. You notice his Adam's apple bob a bit as he tries to wet his now very dry mouth.

"I mean, she will probably be fine there. One night on the couch isn't so bad." You try to joke but Linda's face stays stern.

"I'll take her up, can you bring her some water?" She looks to you and you nod again, now gulping at how serious she is.

Linda grabs your mom off the couch and surprisingly easily takes your mom up the stairs.

"The door on the left." You call out, realizing you never told her. Linda grunts in acknowledgement before taking your mom into your room. The second the door closes, Joel speaks.

"Linda's a bit serious."

"A bit serious? I was gonna say scary." He laughs at your statement.

"She is, isn't she?" He laughs again, before stopping as his eyes latch onto yours.

"Baby..." He trails off, not sure what to say.

"So, you're friends with my mom?" He nods. You open your mouth once, twice, before closing it again. Also not sure what to say.

"Obviously, I didn't know until she gave me the address tonight. Then I didn't know what I was going to say to you. I couldn't act like I knew you and-" He stops his rambling as you step towards him, placing a hand on his chest.

"It's okay, I know you didn't know. I know you wouldn't keep something like that from me." His hand engulfs yours, pulling it up to his mouth to peck your palm.

"You're so good to me." Taking a step closer, his forehead rests on yours.

You giggle, "You're so good to me."

The two of you sit there in silence for a second before he speaks again.

"You look so pretty right now, angel. I wish I could kiss you."

"You could." You confirm, bringing your face closer to his.

And right as he is about to attach his lips to yours, something crashes up stairs. you jump back from Joel at the sound before the two of you rush upstairs. Just to find Linda and your mom on the floor, laughing. You sigh in relief before noticing the pile of book knocked off the bookshelf.

"What happened?" You ask.

"She fell while trying to put her pants on. Knocked over all these books and me." Linda replies in between laughs. Only a bit shocked by her switch in emotions, you sign again.

"It's okay, you guys have done enough. I'll put her to bed now and clean that up in the morning. Thank you for everything." Linda nods, stands, and dusts herself off. Before looking to Joel who just gestures for her to go first.

Joel glances back at you once last time. Almost taking a step towards you, before shaking his head and following behind Linda.

The front door closes down stairs and your attention returns to your mom who is still sitting on the floor. Her head is slumped over and her breathing is even, like she has fallen asleep just like that.

"Come on, mom, let's get you to bed." You reach under her arms to lift her up. She doesn't help but falls into another giggling fit. Trying so hard not to laugh to you push her down under her seats, tucking her in just like she used to when you were little.

"That was him." She says all of a sudden.

"That was who?" You reply, not fully listening as you pick up one of the books.

"The guy I was telling you about. The one that grew up well. He's hot right?" You stop mid movement of picking up another book. What?

But before you can even say anything else soft snores come from the bed. You stand up and place the book back onto their shelf. Leaving the room silently.

You lean against the door once you shut it, stomach tying into knots.

The guy your mom is interested in is the guy that you are currently seeing. What the fuck?

The next morning it was your mom's turn to come into the kitchen groaning. Holding her head she sits at one of the barstools at the island.

"Morning sunshine." You greet her with a laugh while sipping your coffee.

She just grunts in response, you laugh again. Turning to make her her own mug of coffee, knowing that's exactly what she wants right now.

You slide it over to her, her eyes widen for only a second before lifting the mug to her lips. As soon as the liquid touches her tongue she is smiling into the brim of it.

"Thank you." She says as she places it back onto the counter. You raise your own mug to her in a "you're welcome" gesture. She sighs.

"Did I embarrass myself last night?" Groaning again while rubbing her temples.

You laugh, "Only a little." Holding up a pinching gesture with the hand not holding your coffee.

You take a sip while your mom speaks again, "Oh! But you met Joel right? What do you think?" And that's when you choke. You were kind of hoping she didn't bring up Joel.

"That bad?" Your mom chuckles while you try to recover from your coughing fit.

"Uh...um he didn't seem too bad." You finally say as you recover just enough to let the words out.

Your mom only nods, taking your short answer as enough.

What were you going to do?

You had sent a text earlier in the day to confirm with Joel that the two of you were still on for tonight. Although, you were a bit confused by the whole situation currently. You knew how you felt about Joel and honestly you were tired of hiding it from not only yourself but also him.

Now you could only hope he felt the same. That hope, however, came fully to fruition when the you showed up to Joe's bar and Joel was standing there waiting for you, bouquet in hand. You almost teared up at the gesture.

When you crossed the bar to him, he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling your body into his. He placed a kiss on the top of your head before handing the flowers to you.

"Sorry again about last night." You hit his chest at his statement. He backs up in shock, mouth wide open. His dramatics make you laugh.

"Stop saying sorry, it isn't your fault. My mom should be apologizing to you!"

"Still I should've at least warned you we were coming." Dramatics dropped as he looks down at his feet.

"While you were driving? Joel Miller!" Now you are the one being overdramatic and it makes him laugh like it had made you laugh.

"Fine, but I still feel bad."

You sigh, "Fine, but you're not sitting in this corner all night! Dance with me!" You grab his hand and pull him onto the dance floor.

When you start dancing he is only swaying his hips a bit, not fully into it. But you aren't having any of that, you grab his arms and slide his hands down your sides. Flipping around so your ass makes contact with his crotch. This seems to make him react as he grabs your hips in almost a warning.

Although, of course, this only eggs you on to continue your teasing. Grinding your hips back into his like that very first night the two of you hooked up. You spin back around, hands moving up his stomach and chest finally resting latched behind his neck. Your head is tossed back as you continue to move your hips dangerously close to his own. Neck is on full display for Joel and he takes this as an opportunity to crane down and place a soft kiss there.

His head now rests on your shoulder using his hands to help move your hips in time with his. You smile, he must be feeling a bit better now. So when he raises his head out of the crook of your neck you raise your own to meet eyes.

But you don't see lust there, you see something else. Love? It makes you gulp, goosebumps raising on your skin as he leans down to bring his lips to yours.

And when he pulls away, "I want you." He says, but it isn't in the lustful way he usually says it. Not sure how to reply, you smirk teasingly.

"Then take me."

"Not like that, baby. I-I want you. I-" Words seem to stop at the top of his throat, fearing that they will topple over.

Still unsure, you say the first thing that comes to mind, "You have me. I've been yours for a while, Joel." The look in his eyes sparks almost unnoticeably.

"You're mine?" You nod. "Promise?" Another nod.

"Come home with me?" Instead of answering, you attach your lips to him.

Waking up in Joel's arms felt so much different than all the times you had been in his bed and in his arms before. Something about the intimacy of your conversation from the night before and the intimacy of being in his bed now. You were just so serene. It felt right. There was no other way to describe it.

Obviously, after leaving Joe's you ended up at Joel's place once again. Although this time you had told your mom so she wouldn't worry and you had also, at Joel's request, told her that you weren't going to come home at all tonight.

Of course, like all the nights before Joel and you had ended up fucking, but last night felt different. It was slower, it was intimate, it was like he was making love to you. If you had asked Joel he would tell you that's exactly what he was doing.

Glancing over at Joel, you see that he is still asleep. You try to carefully let yourself out of grip to get out of bed but his strong arms keep you there.

As you try again, he just grips you tighter letting out a groan. He opens his eyes slowly.

"Don't leave me." He says while still waking up.

"I'm not leaving, Joel, I-" He cuts you off by pulling you roughly into his side.

"Joel-" you warn with a squeak as he pushes on your stomach with the heel of hi hand. "-I need to pee."

He still doesn't let you up. Just nuzzles his face into your hair. His breath tickles your neck.

"If you don't let me go, I'll end up peeing in your bed." You try to warn him again and finally he lets you go with a sigh.

But before you can make it fully into the bathroom he is calling out behind you.

"You're mine?" Your eyes roll.

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"Joel." Another warning tone.

"Promise." This time it wasn't a question.

"I promise. Now let me go pee!"

After peeing, you returned to Joel who was still sprawled out in bed. He brought you back into his arms as quickly as he could. The two of you stayed like that for a while, just bathing it each other's warmth.

Until Joel's hands started wandering. First it started with rubbing soothing circles onto your back. Then the circles moved to your thighs. The circles becoming less soothing and more whimper inducing. Then they moved to just above the waistband of your pants (boxers you had borrowed from Joel). Only for them to dip past that waistband just a second later. Now teasing your already dripping slit.

Whimpering out, Joel caught your sound with his lips. Letting his tongue taste yours. The kiss was slow, passionate. No matter how much he wanted you, he was taking it slow.

His fingers continued teasing your pussy lips, collecting your juices before slipping just the tip of fingers past your folds. Gasping, you bit down on his lip, causing him to groan into your mouth. The shock made him loose himself for a second but he recovered quickly and continued teasing you.

He did this for a minute or two never letting his lips leave yours. Bringing his fingers to your clit he rubbed the bud a few times before slipping his hand out of pants. You whined at the loss.

"I need to be inside of you. Can't wait any longer." He says before pushing you to turn around so he was now behind you.

You heard Joel rustling through his nightstand for a second before tearing open a package. Shifting away from your warmth for only a second to slide his underwear down and slip the condom on.

As quickly as he can he is returning to touching you, hand moving up under your shirt. Lips are on your neck nipping and sucking lightly at the sensitive skin.

The hand in your shirt moves up to tease your boob, massaging both of them. The other hand is moving back to the waistband of your pants, slipping them down your legs as much as he can in the position that you are in. You help him by lifting your hips a bit.

Joel slides his dick into you from behind, it being easy from till being a bit stretched out from last night. Not to mention all the teasing and the amount of wetness that is almost dripping down your thighs at this point.

You don't even need to adjust to the stretch, "Please Joel." You breath out. He continues fucking into behind and kissing at your neck.

Hand is still in your shirt, just holding onto your tit. The other is holding your hip in place, like he thinks you'll slip away from him. He is fully seated inside of you when he slowly pulls out of you to hi tip, before fucking back into all the way to the hilt.

He continues his slow and steady pace, just taking his time with your body. Needing to feel all of you. Needing you.

Thrusting his dick in and out of you. Working both of you towards your release. Morning sex with Joel was definitely different than any of the sex you've ever had with him before but you were loving it. You loved how he was taking his time. He didn't want either of you to get overstimulated.

The hand that was on your hip wrapped around to tease your clit. The strokes were as slow as his thrusts. But he strokes once particularly roughly and you are moaning, turning your head to try and meet lips with Joel. He obliges and connects your lips.

This is what sends you hurtling towards your end. The softness of the kiss, the circles on your clit, and the slow yet perfect thrusts. It crashes over you unexpectedly and has you moaning out loudly disconnecting your lips just so you can catch your breath.

And the feeling of your walls clenching onto his member has him closer to his peak quickly as well. He's usually very sensitive in the morning so he isn't very surprised. So when you seemed to have caught your breath and you no longer are jerking with your orgasm, Joel is placing his lips back on yours. Kissing you deeply as he swallows your breathy moans from the overstimulation.

This causes him to reach his peak, cumming into the condom with a throaty moan. Thrusting roughly into you a few times to work himself through his orgasm. When he is finished he is pulling out of you and using your shoulder to turn you back to face him.

He pulls your head into his chest. Breathing is still a bit labored as the two of you just feel the other person. Appreciating the comfort. Breathing in each other's scents, content.

Later that day after a shower, with Joel, he drove you back to your house to drop you off. You didn't have any clothes with you after all, so you at least had to change and because you didn't exactly want to leave Joel yet, when you didn't see your mom's car in the driveway you convinced Joel to come up with you.

He didn't protest much after you promised him your mom would not be returning any time soon. So he followed you through the house and into your room. You ushered him in and watched as he took it all in. Shutting the door behind you two, you made your way across the room to Joel.

Wrapping your arms around him from behind as he looked at some pictures on your desk. You hadn't realized until now but Joel had never seen the way you lived and it was comforting to finally have him in your space.

"That's when I was seven." You said as he picked up a picture of you with a soccer ball in hand, blue jersey hanging on your little torso. "I begged my dad to sign me up for soccer and only did it for about three weeks before I decided I hated it." You laugh at the memory.

He laughs too and places it down, now picking up a picture of you and your friend from prom.

"That feels like ages ago." You muse, "There used to be another girl in this picture but she uh she fucked my boyfriend so I cut her out." You nod into his back before disconnecting your arms and moving across the room to sit on your bed. Playing with your hands, he places the photo down and moves to sit with you.

"I'd never do that to you." He says after a beat of silence.

"Fuck my boyfriend? I hope not." You try to joke but it doesn't fully reach your voice.

Joel grabs your hands, "Cheat on you." He says the thing you weren't sure you wanted to hear. You open your mouth but aren't sure what to say.

So he speaks instead, "You deserve the world and I want you to know that I'm prepared to give it to you." You smile, finally bringing your eyes to his.

"You sound so old!" You jest as you hit his chest. He grabs your wrist using it pull you forward into him. You fall into his chest, Joel uses that as an opportunity to stable you by a hand on your hip.

"If I really was that old, I don't think I could fuck you the way I do." He tone is laced with seduction as he brings his lips to ghost yours. Breath fans over your face, causing you to shiver. He smirks almost bringing up the inside joke of you being cold all the time. But throws this away to instead attach his lips to yours.

The kiss is fiery, not like the ones from this morning that were filled with passion, this one was like he needed to prove something. Prove he would always be yours and you would always be his.

His lips and his hands have you so much in a trance that neither of you hear a car pulling into the driveway. Or the front door opening. Or your mom calling out your name. Or climbing up the stairs. Or opening your door.

But you do hear the gasp and the sound of bags dropping to the floor as your mom sees the two of you. Pulling away quickly both you and Joel jump away from each other like a fire was just lit between you. Your head snaps to look at your mom and then back to Joel and notice she is doing the same thing with the both of you.

"Mom, I-" You try to explain but loose your words and good thing too because they would be falling on deaf ears anyways. With her blinking twice and rushing out of the room, back down the stairs, out of the house, and driving away.

You look back to Joel who has a mortified look on his face, then back to the doorway your mom was just in.

"Shit."

Part 2 !!!!!!!

1K notes · View notes

bi-writes · 4 months

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bestfriend!roommate!simon helps you get dressed for a night out because i love when men kneel

cw: nsfw content (18+), suggestive language and content, mature language and content, kisses through the mask, size kink, praise kink, a little oral (fem!receiving), a little suggestive touching (fem!receiving), simon likes thicc thighs, simon "my girl doesnt lift a finger because i worship her" riley

more bestfriend!roommate!simon

you haven't gone out in a long time. you were stuck working overnight shifts at the diner for extra money, busy every time you got a friendly text or a sweet call asking if you'd like to join your friends.

you hadn't told simon yet. you hadn't told him you were leaving tonight, but more worriedly, you hadn't told him you were struggling paying the bills. you scraped by the edges of your teeth last month to give him your half, and you remember looking at the cash in your wallet afterwards and wanting to vomit.

it was embarrassing. the landlord just kept urging you both for more, and while simon was always able to negotiate the raise every few months (one look at simon, and he always lowered his number), you were finding it difficult to keep up.

simon was successful. he was a decorated lieutenant, and he had many powerful friends. he never indulged in showing off his wealth; he wasn't raised with money, neither were you, and it was more than he knew what to do with. you remembered walking past him one night as he paid off a credit card on his laptop. you gagged when you saw the number in his account, the commas in the number.

why the fuck was in this piece of shit place with you when he could buy a house on a pebbled beach somewhere?

the dress was not cooperating. it had many straps that came in at the back, and they were twisted and crooked, looped around the corset back and making you a little frustrated. you sighed deeply before making your way across the hall, knocking gently on the bedroom across from you.

"simon?" there was no answer. "simon, i...could you help me for a second?"

the door opened a few moments later. a surgical mask was fit over his nose and mouth, a beanie over his head to cover the rest of him. you turned around in front of him, looking over your shoulder.

"i need help. it's all a mess, i can feel it."

his dark eyes flickered down to the back of your dress. the skin of your back was bare. you weren't wearing a bra underneath. you help up the front of the dress with both of your hands, cupping your breasts to keep it situated as simon finally reached over and began to unravel the laces of the corset.

"you goin' out?"

you nodded, rocking to the side a bit as he tugged the edges of the laces loose and began to tighten up the back of the corset. you held onto your stomach as the fabric of it began to shape the curve of your waist.

"yeah, just with some of the girls. they've been dying to go out, but i've just been working so much..."

"hmmm," he grunted in agreement. "'v hardly seen your face around here."

you sighed as he straightened out the straps, tying off the end of the corset with a tight bow at the bottom. you turned around to face him, and simon had to bite back the curse threatening to leave at the sight of you. the skin along your chest looked so soft, plump to the touch. he wanted to lean down and lick over the curve of your breasts right there, feel it bounce back with a hard kiss, watch your nipples harden if he blew on the sensitive contours of your neck.

"sorry...work has been...really busy."

"dunno 'bout that, luv. i know you're pickin' up shifts. i can hear you on the phone, asking to come in."

there was something more in that comment, something more he wanted to say lingering in the air. you frowned a little, meeting his eyes.

"im just trying to make extra money, simon, thats all."

he leaned in a little closer.

"if you need help--"

"no," you said immediately, shaking your head. "i know what you're going to say. i don't need your...i'm fine."

simon lowered his head slightly. for a moment, just one fleeting moment, you suddenly understand perhaps why men cowered on the battlefield. there was something dull and lifeless swirling there in his eyes. he was so much larger than you, big enough that he could probably wrap his whole hand around your neck and squeeze, and the life would leave you easy--and somehow you knew, those eyes wouldn't change, even knowing they would have taken the light from your own.

you knew, suddenly, that you were face to face with somebody else. a beast with a quiet name, a killer that rarely made a sound, the last whisper that one might ever hear.

you had angered simon, and his protector had come.

"you're lyin'."

"simon--"

"you're lyin' to me, sweetheart. where are your fuckin' manners?"

"i'm not one of your fucking soliders, simon. you can't give me orders," you snapped. you moved past him, hitting his shoulder with your own and going back into your room. you picked up your heels, taking a seat on your bed as you furiously slipped them on. your shadow followed, coming into your room and standing before you.

"how many times? how many times have i asked if everything is straight?"

you ignored him, continuing to slip your shoes on. of course, the ones you had picked out for tonight had straps that needed to be tied up your ankle.

"so i'm going to ask you again, luv, and you're gonna answer me well. do you need my bloody help?"

you let go of the ribbons of your shoes, letting them fall. you put your hands into your lap, your eyes on your crudely painted nails and skin of your knees and the way the shadow at your front began to come closer.

you swallowed hard when he knelt down at your feet. you watched with soft eyes as he picked up your foot gently by the ankle, resting it on his thigh. his gloved hands picked up the silk ribbons, beginning to cross them over your ankle. he straightened out the creases and made sure not to tie them twisted, being careful to make the ribbons look presentable.

when he finished tying the bow on one foot, he brought your ankle up, pressing the mouth of his mask to the silk of it and letting it fall. he picked up your other foot just as tenderly and with the precision of a sniper, he tied your ribbons and pressed a kiss to the silk.

with both your feet on the ground, and simon on his knees seemingly not going anywhere, you reached forward and slipped a hand under the hood, caressing one side of his face.

your palm was warm, fitting into the curve of his cheek. the fabric of his mask was soft as always, black cotton that shielded his pretty face from your eyes always. you never cared to look under it, never felt the need to make him take it off. even now, with his face in your hands, you felt no urge to see what was underneath. as far as you were concerned, the mask was his face--even if you had once seen that face and how stupidly handsome he was.

simon was an enigma. he had a poker face that many envied; the mask hid so much of his emotions, so much of what he might feel, and often he was even able to control the scrunch of his brows or the twitch of his eyes so you could read nothing. but he needed his eyes; he needed them to see, to engage, and if he could cover them, he would, but he needed them, so they were dark and wide, the one piece of him that he allowed.

so you tilted his head back with your hand on his face, letting the soft light of the room break him his hiding place. he wasn't wearing any eye-black today, and you smoothed a thumb just under his eye, watching his lashes flutter for a second. fuck, he was so pretty.

"you worry too much, simon," you whispered. "i'm fine. i promise."

you leaned forward, sighing deeply.

"i promise, simon," you said under your breath. "if something was wrong, i would tell you."

you tried looking into his eyes to convince him, but you knew as soon as you did, that you crucified the lie. something was wrong. you were scraping along, getting dragged by life, but you had learned a long time ago how to bury things into a box and swallow it all down.

you knew, also, that he didn't believe you. simon was too intelligent a man to think you were being honest there, but he didn't say anything. he just followed the warmth of your hand, and if he was a cat, he'd be purring.

you moved to stand, but simon reached for you, his gloved hands on your knees as he held you there. you opened your mouth to speak, but then he leaned forward, his head against your chest as he held you close. it forced your knees to spread to make room for him, and you sucked in a breath as both of his palms slipped up your thighs and caressed the soft skin there.

"simon--"

"don't want to bloody talk--"

"but--simon--"

it happened fast. one moment, you were sitting upright, cradling his head to your chest and feeling his hands along thighs, and the next, you were on your back, splayed across your bed, your dress riding up your hips and the stilettos of your heels digging into the meat of simon's back.

simon was not all muscle; sometimes, when he relaxed, you could feel the softness of him under your palm, a warmth that was solid, like a bear--something protective and built to last, like the foundations of a good home. and then sometimes he was like this--tense all over, muscles constricted, abdomen as taut as a rock, arms bulging as they worked and lifted and manhandled you like the lieutenant he was.

his head was buried between your thighs. you panted, breath heavy as you felt his heavy breath suddenly, his mask pushed up just enough so that he could lick a warm stripe up the inside of your thigh.

"you won't talk," simon murmured against the skin there. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, yanking you forward until he could kiss where your pelvis met your thigh. you shuddered at the feeling of his lips grazing the lace of your panties. "you won't fuckin' talk, but you will sing for me, luv."

"simon, i need to go..."

your voice was protesting, but your hands found the back of his head, smoothing over the locks of his hair. you whimpered when you felt the wetness of his tongue along the fabric of your panties. his entire mouth enveloped your mound, jaw hinging wide as he tasted you through the lace. you bucked up into his mouth, your hips chasing the wet feeling. he growled out angrily, keeping your hips pinned down as he sucked messily, his teeth nipping at the delicate lingerie.

you sucked in a shaky breath as he used a gloved finger to push it to the side, your cunt on display. he cursed when he spread your folds, watching the drip of you as it drenched your panties more, your sweet hole puckering around nothing.

"fuckin' hell--" he sucked on his teeth. "you're fuckin' drippin', luv."

"s-simon, i-i...i can explain, i..."

"don't have to explain anythin'."

you whined as he finally put his mouth on you. his tongue started low, teasing your cunt with a slow circle before curling, trying to flood his mouth with the taste of you. you tasted good, tasted familiar somehow, and his chest swelled at the thought that you were this wet because you were thinking about him.

he could listen to you for hours. the moans that passed through your glossy lips, the languid roll of your hips as you chased his tongue, the sweat that gathered at the base of your spine and along your forehead and the sound of his name sputtering in choked breaths out of your gorgeous mouth.

a vision. simon didnt believe paradise existed, but he believed there was something close to it. it used to be the side of a bullet hitting exactly where he aimed, the feel of foreign soil hitting his enemy's eyes before he took them down, getting his squad out of the gutter when they were pinned down on all sides. he was good at his job. he was good on the field, he was good with chaos, but this was new.

this feeling had always been somewhere under the surface whenever he was with you. he didn't recognize it at first because he had never felt anything quite like it. the feeling one gets when they get home after a long day. the light in someone's eyes when they see a face they recognize when they're in a place they don't belong. the light of a flame in room so dark, you can't see your hands held up in front of your face.

he wondered sometimes if he had ever felt this way with his family. if looking into his nephew's eyes, he had ever felt something like this--and he did, somewhat, but this was more. this wasn't the gentle nip of a soft animal, this kind of love had fangs, and it had sunk itself so deep into him, he knew it was latched onto him. sucking on his blood, draining the shit from his veins, and putting something else there, something addicting.

and he didn't care. he gripped your hips with his gloved hands, sucking on your clit and licking up the slick of you and trying so hard to please the woman that plagued every fucking thought in his head.

"simon--"

your voice was a sob, practically. whining his name, tears coming down your face as he ate you out furiously. he was gentle at first, and then he was nearly aggressive, slurping at your folds and fucking into your cunt and barely coming up for air. when he did come up, his tone was low and drunk-sounding, slurring out soft phrases of "like a fuckin' sweet" and "so fuckin' pretty."

your back arched off the bed. your makeup was ruined by now, surely. your corset askew, your stilettos digging dark holes into his back, your throat hoarse from the crying--simon had you like no one else. simon had you wrapped so tightly around his gloved finger, you might as well have been a brand there--an extension of that glove, one of the crude white bones painted along the back of his hand. he had carved a hole so deep inside of you, shaped perfectly to the beastly size of him; you would never be rid of him. your whole life after this, you just knew--nobody would ever eat your cunt the way lieutenant simon riley ate it, that was a fucking fact.

he moaned when you came. a deep, guttural moan that came from deep in his chest. his eyes rolled to the back of his head when you gushed right onto his tongue. he drank it like he was running desert dry, a kind of eagerness that was making your vision go a little fuzzy, sparkling dots hazing over you. your head was a mess of emotions, all clouded over by pleasure and your body limp in his arms. your body was jelly, so worn as if you had been fucked brainless, but, oh--simon hadn't even gotten that far with you, and his mouth had you spineless.

you sat up, hair tousled, legs shaking, breaths warm and heavy and easy. everything was easy with simon. living, breathing, loving, touching--everything was easy.

he stood up finally, rising from his knees and rolling out his shoulders, and even though you could see him subtly adjusting his pants, he didn't make a move on you. he didn't reach for you, didn't try and touch you again, didn't reach for the bow he had tied on your corset to try and undo it. no, simon had just given you a mind-numbing orgasm and if not for the strain on his zipper, you'd think he had just filed his fucking taxes.

"simon...s-simon--"

"have fun tonight," he murmured, brushing a stray hair out of your face. he tucked it behind your ear, the glove making you shiver. "you call me when y'ready to come home."

your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, a soft smile on your face.

"m-maybe i dont...maybe i don't wanna go out, m-maybe i wanna stay here...with you...w-watch movies like we usually do."

he shook his head, his thumb swiping just under your chin.

"no. go have fun. i'll be waitin' here for you, luv."

his fingers traced along your neck, something in his eyes that said he wanted more. but a ghost doesn't beg, right?

but maybe simon does.

"okay. i'll call you."

"right then."

and when the click of your bedroom door shut, you looked down at your shoes, so prettily tied with a bow on the end. you reached down, gripping the end of the bow and pulling, watching the silk unravel and come undone.

and then he heard the call of his name again.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut

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ooffmlsorry · 6 months

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OP Men Dating a "Girly Girl"

A/N: sorry this took so long and I haven't posted anything original in a minute my life is mess and I'm so very tired jfc...I know this isn't more than my usual group but I was just gonna stop at Luffy and then decided to add Ace and Sabo as a thank you because writing these and putting them on Tumblr has been really good for me, so thank you for always being here to indulge me 🥲 ❤️

Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy, Ace, Sabo

Sanji

Let's be honest, girly-girls drive Sanji craaaazzzzyy (not that all women don't, but he's definitely more partial to the feminine ones) Your make-up, pretty skirts and dresses, jewelry, and manicure, he can't help fawn over you constantly 😍Although you do it because you enjoy it, it's nice that your efforts are so appreciated!!

He spoils you soooo baaaddd!! He literally can't help himself when he sees something pretty or cute that reminds him of you, he has to get it for you. You're drowning in squishmallows at this point.

A river of blood shoots from him every time you show off a new outfit. You're going to kill him and he'll thank you for it.

Dressing up in nice outfits together, especially on date night, is a shared activity that you love to do together. Y'all are living your best happily ever after lives.

Ya'll definitely have scheduled self-care nights. You put on some slow music, open a bottle of wine, draw a bubble bath, all that.

He's utterly useless when it comes to helping you pick your outfits or makeup if you're stuck because he loves you in everything, it's too hard for him to pick. You're his perfect, beautiful Y/N-swaaaaan 😍💖💖✨

He does love to see you in pink or red though so he might default to those colors

Don't try to test your makeup on him lol, you're going to re-awaken the gender identity crisis...I mean Kamabakka trauma

Listen...I'm not saying Sanji has a mommy kink...I'm not even at Whole Cake Island so idk wtf is going on there. All I'm saying is if you give this man a bath, wrap him in a towel to dry him off, and rub him down with luxurious lotions and oils, you might awaken something...that's all...👀

ZORO

He has no clue wtf you're doing. If it weren't for the fact that there's no proof that witches exist in this world, he'd think you are one

He looks at your vanity full of serums, creams, scrubs, lotions, etc, not to mention the makeup and he's like "??????" Just completely baffled

But what do you expect? This man would use that five-in-one Irish Spring soap if he could.

Just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate and admire the fact that you have extensive knowledge in something he can't even comprehend

He knows you like nice shiny things, and again, while he doesn't get it, he does think it's really, really cute when you go starry-eyed over a necklace or an outfit in a store.

In the same vein, he knows how much you love cute things and animals. He has absolutely found a cute animal in the jungle, picked it up, and brought it to you just to show you because he knew you'd love it.

Sometimes in his own gruff way he'll agree with you that it's pretty cute. Thank you for helping this manly man admit things are cute and that's okay.

Other times, he's the one making sure you don't get distracted because it's so cute

Unfortunately and fortunately, you're pretty to him no matter what you do to yourself so it's all kind of a moot point to him.

You can try to ask him about which 'x' to wear, sometimes it's helpful because he'll throw out a really practical answer and then other times he's like "How 'bout you just go naked" 😏.

He'll wear a face mask with you like...twice a year. And he's going to bitch and moan about it but he does it because he loves you. The entire process is like trying to give a cat a bath "WHY IS IT SO COLD? THIS STAYS ON MY FACE FOR HOW LONG???"

Exfoliate this man at your own risk...I'm dead serious that water is going to be brown

LAW

I need you to know right now this man will let you paint his nails!!! I mean, not like gel or acrylics or anything, but he'll let you paint them any color as long as it's a dark shade of that color. You once designed Bepo on his middle fingers. He did in fact flip people off a lot more often when he had them.

Let's you wear a pastel boiler suit because you he loves you and wants to see you happy

Much like Zoro, he's got no clue what you're doing. He'll stand back and watch you while making the exact same face as the gif above.

He thinks he's being stealthy peaking around a corner to watch your morning or night routine, but you quickly catch on. Please please pleeaaassee ask him if he has any questions because he does. He's just really curious why you're doing what you're doing and what it does. It's basically skin medicine and he's really fascinated.

Knowing that you like shiny things makes his life admittedly a little easier, it's not that he doesn't think of what to gift you, he puts A LOT of thought into what he gives you, but knowing that earrings, necklaces, and bracelets always make you happy is great just in case of analysis paralysis or he forgets. Sorry.

Also you wearing the jewelry he gets you does something to him, especially a necklace he can pull on a little, mmhhm you're making this man struggle with impure thoughts.

You both love cute things, it's something y'all connect on. It's really good that you help him access that very neglected inner child of his and encourage him to coo and fawn over adorable animals with zero reservation.

He'll do skincare with you too when he's not super busy. He can admit it's kind of nice to sit in bed with a book, glass of wine, and a face mask and just bask for a minute

He acts like he hates when you rub serums across his face and use a derma roller on him but he loves it

Law doesn't really pay attention to your clothes, but when you really go all out he breaks out in a sweat and he can't keep his eyes off you.

LUFFY

I'm not saying he thinks it's stupid, it just...why have an hours long care routine when you could be going on adventure with him??? 😭😭😭

He will help you pick out your makeup but don't expect it to look good. You're gonna end up with neon orange eyeshadow and green lipstick. Like literally every "My Boyfriend Does My Makeup" youtube video.

Plays around with your stuff but that's because he has no idea what all these strange contraptions are. The moment you try to explain his eyes glaze over and next thing you know he's whisking you away to go do something more fun.

He likes the shiny bright stuff (highlighter), makeup probably is the only part he even remotely engages in because it's

Explain how contour works to this man and watch him lose his fucking mind, he thinks you're a shape shifter now (honestly this applies to all of them except Law and maybe Sanji)

He never notices what you wear, Nami is gonna have smack him on the back of the head to get him to realize you put on something fancy

Luffy points out everything, it just so happens that things he points out sometime happen to be cute animals

Hides in all the stuffed animals and squishmallows in your room to surprise attack hug you

*throws mud at you* "Is this the kind of mud you like, Y/N??" He really means well though.

You know those hair masks with all natural ingredients like honey and banana? Yeah, he's gonna start sucking on your hair like spaghetti...I'm so sorry.

He'll bathe with you but that's because he wants to be close to you, it's definitely not about being pampered or relaxing.

Try to put a face mask on him or something else and it'll just become a game of tag around the Sunny. You can't catch him and he's having a great time outrunning and outwitting you.

He knows this is all important to you so even though he doesn't get it he'd never make fun of you for it and the moment someone calls you "extra," he's kicking their ass.

ACE

Maybe all the glam is a little silly to him but that just makes you extra cute!

He will also absolutely let you paint his nails. Hell, he'll let you do a full beat on him just for fun and he'll wear it for the whole day because he's so unserious lol

...As long as he gets to do your makeup after...Much like Luffy you're gonna be covered in neon colors that don't even remotely match, but you guys have a great time lol

Admittedly likes to be pampered by you when he gets back from a long mission.

Please take a bubble bath with this man, it's not like the water is ever going to get cold!

I'm pretty sure you'd legitimately lead to Ace taking better care of himself. Got this man out here talking about his cuticles and shit lol

Honestly, it's really good for him because self care leads to self love and Ace needs a lot of help with that.

He tells Pops about all the stuff you do 1.) because he loves you and 2.) he hopes some of it will help Whitebeard heal a little, god bless him 😢

All of your hardwork doesn't go unnoticed, he legitimately gets kind of misty eyed when you really dress up because he's so so so lucky. He swears he doesn't deserve you.

He always brings back some kind of gift even whether it's a cute plushie or something exotic to wear from all of his long travels

I need to stress how much this means to him, everyone of these things is like a little proposal because he already knows you're it. Every little gift is leading up to a ring from this man.

He's also just genuinely impressed by the skill it takes to do your makeup so well, especially after he tries doing it on you

Much like his little brother unfortunately, he does play with all the little contraptions in your vanity, especially in the beginning because have you seen an eyelash curler? He's so confused lol

SABO

Sabo and Ace truly are his brothers because he really don't get all the effort lol

Admittedly, a lot of that is because he thinks you're so hot already what's the point???

Once he gets this is just how you are he's less confused, he's probably the most normal out everyone. He lets you do your thing, although he's really curious how you managed to always look amazing while being in the fucking revolutionary army!!?? Where are you getting the time???

If someone were to intrude on y'all on a free afternoon you're both in fluffy robes with face masks on and Sabo loves to pretend to act like a bitch when he's in selfcare mode with you lol

"Are you seriously bothering us right now, ugh! I can't even right now!!" And then you both break out in laughter

He really thinks you should teach others how to contour and do makeup because it has great applications for disguises and infiltration.

And brags about your skills to everyone

Wonders how many of your makeup supplies could actively be used as a weapon *eye roll* jfc Sabo

There's a part of you that secretly worries all your boujieness will remind him of his blood relatives, but he assures you that it doesn't because you have a good heart and he never doubts that

Besides, being a little extra with him helps him associate those things he used to associate with his blood relatives with you instead so it's even better

He spoils you so bad, but with a Sabo-flair, ie. stealing from shitty people and bringing it back to you because you're oh so more deserving of nice things let's be honest

He gets jealous of the cute animals that you squeal over hehehe, please hug him when he starts pouting

He'll always wear a little pink just for you ❤️

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x reader headcanon #luffy x reader #law x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #ace x reader #sabo x reader

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luveline · 3 months

Note

You said you might need ideas for stripper reader! And Spencer and well….

Post Prison Spencer coming home and just being so afraid to touch reader (what if he hurts her?), to take his shirt off in front of reader (the scars - the bruises that didn’t fade, the lost weight) and afraid to tell you about the drugs/what happened because what if you leave and stripper!reader just being like “I love you”, ya know?

No worries if you aren’t interested in this though!!! Love all your works 💕

thank you for your request angel!

—Spencer’s reluctant to touch you in the week he’s released from prison, and you just wanna know why. stripper!reader, 1k

“I don’t like when you stretch like that.”

“Too provocative?” you ask in a murmur.

“Too painful looking. Does it hurt?”

You lay on your back with your legs underneath you, having initially been kneeling, but now lowered with your shoulders touching hardwood. It used to hurt more, but dancing requires limberness. Though you aren’t sure you’ll be dancing much longer.

You hold your hands out for him to help you up. Cruel, he ignores you, sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee curled in his nice hands. “That’s not nice,” you say.

“Sorry.” He crosses his legs. “I just don’t want you to pull something.”

“This is so I don’t pull something.”

“You’re not dancing tonight,” he says. Not demanding, just stating a fact. You haven’t been to the club once in the week since Spencer came home, and you’ve no plans yet to return.

“I’m going to give you a lap dance.”

Spencer laughs. You’ve known one another a long time now and you’ve never given him one. He’s never asked, and you’ve never wanted to. There’s not much fun in it, maybe, because it’s work, and you associate it with needing things, and selfish hands.

You get up, holding his gaze as you stand in front of him. He thinks you don’t notice, but Spencer Reid is reluctant to touch you lately and it’s breaking your heart, so you aren’t going to give him a lap dance, but you do need to get close to him.

“Can I sit in your lap?” you ask quietly.

Spencer might not want to touch you of his own volition, but he’s yet to deny you something you want. He holds out an arm, his hand a beckoning as you climb into his lap, or over if. You put one knee on one side of him and one knee the other, thighs spread, careful not to press on anything too soft. His lips turn up into a frantic smile. It’s sort of funny, the panic you’d see on men who clearly aren’t used to being touched, but it has a strange thread to it that unnerves you. He’s your boyfriend. He’s very in love with you, he talks of marriage often, he’s begged you to move in. Why is he reluctant to be near you now?

“Have you changed your mind?” you ask.

Even as you do his hand is settling on your hip like he can’t help himself. He sounds guilty as he asks, “About what?”

“‘Bout me.”

“I could never change my mind about you, I wouldn’t want to,” he says.

His eyes feel huge when he’s looking at you like this, brown and dark pupil mixed together, expression finally cleared of shame and replaced with a tenderness you’d never seen aimed at you until you met him. You pull one of his curls between your fingers. It isn’t enough. You bury your hand in his hair and hold it out of his face, in love and allowed to be. You can’t believe you had to go almost three whole months without him.

“Why do you think I did?” he asks.

“Come on, you know why. You’re acting like you’ve developed a sudden allergy to me.”

“No,” he says, leaning into your touch. “Is that what’s happening?”

“Is it… me? Like, I don’t know. Did you have a prison girlfriend?”

“It’s not like that,” he says with a little laugh, pulling you closer in his lap. Your back arches under his hand, your faces inching closer.

“It feels like it is, though, Spence. You were gone for so long and you’re acting like you didn’t miss me, and maybe I’m full of myself but I know you did so it has to be something else.” You give his cheek a squeeze, his lips pouting.

You’d kiss him, usually.

“I just don’t wanna hurt you,” he says, eyes on your nose. “Again. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“No, you don’t, and you’ve never hurt me before.”

He smiles and closes his eyes. “Just left you all by yourself for months while I was on vacation…”

You’re not quite laughing as you lean down for a small, careful kiss. “That wasn’t your fault,” you say against his lips.

“I made stupid decisions.”

“I make them all the time.”

You kiss him again. He’s relaxing now, you wouldn’t kiss him otherwise, though you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with you like this. “You’re not that out of practice, are you?” you ask, letting your lips follow a trail of their own volition up his cheek. He’s fun to kiss, soft, though not as soft as he was, and your chapstick leaves little kiss prints all over his pale cheek.

“Spencer, you know I love you? Like, I really love you.”

“I know.”

“And nothing you do, nothing that happens to you, could make me stop.” You lift his face by the cheek. “Right?”

He bats your hand away from his cheek and takes your face into his palms, as if to say, Stop it, I get it. He looks good like this with his scrub of stubble and a bit of confidence about him. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky with you,” he says, pulling you in, squishing his nose to yours.

You cover his wrists with your hands and close your eyes.

He saved you a bunch of times. “You have a very selective memory when you want it to be,” you say gently. “But you can tell me anything. Everything that happened, I want to know. Please, Spence.” Stop carrying it around by yourself.

He nods his head, you can feel it against your nose, his breath on your lips as he says, “Don’t say please.”

“Okay.” You grin. “Is that the only rule?”

His hand sneaks around to the back of your neck. “Stay where you are,” he murmurs, his lips dragging down to yours.

You melt in his arms.

—

my requests are wide open! please like or reblog / reply if you enjoyed, i hope u did!!❤️

#spencer and stripper!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 7 months

Note

I have request for Spencer Reid x Plus size fem!reader. Maybe her and Spencer are good friends and she gets stood up on a date or her date leaves after seeing her and Spencer swoops in and love confession.

p.s I love you work. <3

༉‧₊˚. 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

― pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

― summary: admitting that you got stood up on a date would be like admitting defeat, too bad spencer's too good of a best friend to let you go through this alone, even if he was the last person you wanted to see.

― warnings: best friends to lovers, getting stood up on dates, a red flag named chris (sorry to all the chris' out there), mutual pining, requited love, love confessions, and implied dates!

― wc: 1457

⋆ a/n: OH, MY GOODNESS IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN AN ACTUAL ONESHOT. i got hit with a random bout of inspiration out of nowhere and i have a bunch of fanfics that already have banners made but they're unwritten and rotting in my drafts so i'm trying to clean them out first. thank you for this and i hope you enjoy some best friend!spencer reid!!

masterlist | AO3

Leave it up to you to be stood up on a date you didn’t even want to go on.

You were even looking for anything with anything else, you just needed a distraction, you needed anything that would help you move on from him. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault that you were in love with him – well, it actually kind of is – but that’s beside the point.

There was no way you could continue to sit there and allow yourself to wallow in self-pity over the fact that your feelings for your longtime best friend weren’t reciprocated. You were a grown woman for God’s sakes! And as a grown woman, it was up to you to make grown up decisions. One phone call to Derek was all it took for you to get hooked up with some dude that he knew.

“He’s a good guy,” He said.

Yeah, right. Good guy your ass.

Not only did you look stupid, but you were left stranded in a sports bar surrounded by a bunch of strangers – no, scratch that! Almost all of the patrons in this bar tonight were men, it was football season. You were practically asking to get murdered! What kind of FBI agent would you be if you allowed yourself to be murdered over the fact that some guy’s team lost.

With a sigh, you gazed at your chat between Chris and you. You had sent him a text thirty minutes ago asking where he was when he was ten minutes late, but even that message had been left unread.

The only reason why you were still here was because you were oh so painfully embarrassed, and you hoped that others around you couldn’t tell that there was supposed to be a second person joining you at your very barren booth that you had somehow managed to score.

Now that you think about it, how in the hell had you allowed this man to talk you into going to a sports bar instead of oh, I don’t know, a restraunt with a calm, and comfortable atmosphere?

Maybe it was the fact that the only person’s face you could see in your mind as you discussed where you were going to go together was Spencer’s. As ashamed as you were to admit, you mostly imagined a disappointed look on his face when he realized you were going out with someone else, but even you knew that was damn near impossible.

It wasn’t your failed date that was the shit show – even though it is a close second – it was you that was the main attraction. How could you have allowed yourself to be this childish? You weren’t in high school anymore, and you hadn’t been in some years, but old habits die hard, you guess?

It didn’t have to be common knowledge to tell that your romantic life when you were in school was very, very sad. You often found yourself alone on most weekends, ample amount of time to study right under your fingertips. You figured that when you had gotten older things would have gotten better but… nope.

You didn’t know who to call.

Would you call Derek and blame him? No, he couldn’t have known, but you could totally get him to beat Chris’ ass. The thought of your favorite and very muscular chocolate thunder roughing the piece of shit up helped to easy your nerves, badly enough. There was just one person you couldn’t bring yourself to call, and that was Spencer.

Calling Spencer meant that you were giving up, that you were waving the white flag, that you were still in love with him and no number of blind dates, good or bad, could change that.

You bit the inside of your cheek in thought, at least you had dressed up in something comfortable.

“Can I sit here?” You heard someone ask over the bustling noise of the bar.

“Honestly, you can just have the thi–” You spoke without looking up, but when you did, your words died in your throat.

There Spencer stood in his full glory; tall, lanky, nerdy, and extremely uncomfortable, but nonetheless, he slid into the sticky seat across from you with an awkward smile.

“Spence? What are you doing here?” You asked in shock, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I uh- Morgan called me. He said that Chris told him to tell you something came up, but I uh- I figured that wasn’t true.” He explained sympathetically. You scoffed, your body slouching along with the noise. “Yeah, no shit.” Your words were bitter and harsh, which caused you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Fuck, Spence. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to talk to you like that, I’m just… frustrated.”

He reached out his hand, albeit reluctantly seeing as though the table was in the same state as the seat, maybe even a bit worse. You looked down at it then at him before relenting, your full hand slipping into his lithe one perfectly, as if it belonged there.

The fact that this felt so right made your stomach twist sickeningly, fingerings twitching in desperation to pull away. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to stay. You did not have the mental compacity to dig yourself out of another hole.

“No, it’s okay. I understand.” He reassured, his thumb caressing the back of your knuckles gently. “I came as soon as he called,” He then looked around, “Especially after he told me where you were.” You laughed a bit at his concern, your body feeling lighter as it finally straightened.

A soft grin graced your features.

“Thank you, Spence. Really. I know how uncomfortable these kinds of places make you. I just- I really thought tonight was going to go differently.” I thought that things between us were going to go differently, is what you really meant.

“I’m sorry, I know you liked him.”

You grimaced at the word ‘liked.’

“I think ‘liked’ would be the last word I would use to describe how I feel for Chris.”

It was his turn for his eyebrows to furrow. “What do you mean.”

You huffed. “What I meant was that I didn’t even want to go on this stupid fucking date anyways, but I had too… I had too…” You allowed your words to trail off when you had caught yourself about to admit something you had fought years to keep under wraps.

“You had to what?”

Goddamn him and his never-ending curiosity.

“Just leave it alone, please?” You pleaded. You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, your gaze soft and vulnerable. “Okay.”

A silence – what was an equivalent to silence – settled over the both of you. The air was thick with unspoken words and feelings, an invisible line was drawn that the two of you were too scared to cross.

“I would’ve never stood you up, you know.” Spencer piped up quietly, his grip that had gone limp in yours tightening. “What?” Your breath hitched. “And I would’ve taken you to someplace nicer than this.” His voice was shaky and forceful, as if he was forcing himself speak in fear that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t say anything at all.

“What are you saying?” You were breathless, the butterflies that fluttered around in your gut making you nauseous. Hope bloomed at a dangerous rate in your chest.

“What I’m saying is that if I were to take you out on a date, it would be a lot better than this.” He had finally gotten the courage to raise his gaze instead of focusing on where your hands were interlaced. “I would take you anywhere you wanted to go, then I would try my best to make it memorable for you because I…” He gulped. “Because I love you.”

Your ears were ringing. There was sweat beginning to form on your hairline.

“You’re being serious?” The question sounded more like a plea. “Because if you’re saying this because you feel bad, I-” He cut you off. “I don’t feel bad.” He lowered his head to where yours was in an attempt to connect your gazes deeper.

“I really do love you. I- I have for a long time.” Spencer confessed.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” You said through a wobbly smile. His smile matched yours. You could feel the fact that both of your hands were extremely clammy with nerves, but none of you could find it within yourself to care.

“Can I cash in that date now?”

“Now?” He asked incredulously, lifting his free arm to check the time on his wrist. “It’s pretty late.”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m pretty sure we can figure that out.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter

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imyourbratzdoll · 22 days

Note

I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.

hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.

summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.

warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man.

You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.

“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)

“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.

“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.

“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”

Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him.

It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you.

“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.”

He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup.

You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces.

“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”

“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes.

Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?

A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips.

He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.

“Do you mean…?!”

Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.

“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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loveshotzz · 10 months

Text

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap six/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

I Don’t Know You, But I Want To

summary: Sometimes curiosity has consequences.

wc: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters, mentions of death, hints on how Steve’s wife died, bouts of self consciousnesses.

authors note: sorry guys, you knew this chapter had to happen. i promise i’ll make up for it! enjoy a few more easter eggs from @carolmunson ‘s orange colored sky in here. I’ve had so much fun talking about these two old men’s friendship with you!

🌇 <- chapter five -> chapter seven

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

End of June

You didn’t realize when Steve asked you to water his plants, that he meant in just three short days after the almost kiss in his kitchen. The opposite schedules the two of you seem to always work made it so you hardly got a glimpse of him before he and Bandit disappeared to Starved Rock for what you learned was their annual camping trip.

The Good Morning Tough Girl texts started the next day after your number exchange, waking you up with a kaleidoscope of butterflies twisting and turning in your stomach and a smile so big it made your cheeks hurt. It helped you get over only getting to physically see him one time through your living room window before he left. Your phone had vibrated at your feet while you watered your now flourishing Ivy thanks to the new curtains you were proud to say were installed by yourself. You chanced a glance down at your lit up screen, his name flashing with a text that said: How’d I never realize how pretty my view is from the front yard?

The corners of your mouth twitched, flames licking underneath your cheeks when your eyes caught his out your window. The big dopey smile that took over his face made you giggle as he waved eagerly, dressed nice like he had been the morning you ran into him last week. You wiggled your fingers, biting your bottom lip at the way his dark navy button up looked tucked into the waist of his black slacks. The leather belt looked nicer than the last one, the silver of the buckle blinding in the setting sun. His hair was freshly done, free of any signs of those big hands of his. The stubble on his jaw was gone again, but you learned that was never for very long.

Another buzz: Going to dinner with a client, wish it was fish tacos with you instead.

Steve feels like he won the lottery when he can see the way your face lights up from his spot in his front yard. Eddie’s voice rings loudly inside his head, sticking to every single one of his negative thoughts like glue telling him it’s okay and he finally starts to believe it, especially when he gets a text back from you.

Maybe next time 😉

It’s thunderstorming the day you go over, the key tucked away in a lockbox by his door. He gave you access by texting the code the night before with a promise to take you to dinner as a thank you when he got back. The nerves that dance inside you feel like they did the first time you came here when you stand in front of the stained glass of his front door even though he’s five hours away.

It’s quiet, the lively energy from a few nights ago gone with the man. The cedar of his candle still lingers thick in the air and you can’t help but inhale deeply. It smells like him. You leave your shoes and umbrella on his front porch, closing the door gently like you were scared to wake someone up. The pattering of the rain on his windows fills the silence, your shoulders dropping in the serenity. Pulling your phone from your back pocket you look through your texts with the list of the rooms the plants were in.

Only three — his office and living room on the first floor and his bedroom on the second.

The coffee white oak floors creak under your socked feet as you take your first apprehensive steps past the entryway. He left the watering can on the kitchen island just like he said he would, your skin pebbles when you’re brought back to the last time you were in here. The sun fights to shine through the thick storm clouds outside, making the lighting that bleeds through his windows soften everything up. The water from the sink hits the metal of the can, mixing perfectly with the rain.

You wish he was here.

The can is heavy in your hands when you stop at the doorway of the living room, the contents inside sloshing around and daring to spill onto his floor. You curse under your breath with a pause to take in the room you only got a glimpse of before. There’s an electric fireplace, tall black steel that takes up most of the wall next to the sliding glass door that leads to his small backyard.

Two large beige area rugs cover most of the wood floors in here, a cream frayed trim lining them. Bandit’s bed sits big, fluffy and dark brown nestled by the fireplace, giving him a perfect view out the window. Strands of his lighter hairs leave behind evidence that this might be his favorite spot in the house. A woven basket filled with various chew toys that look freshly tossed in isn’t very far from it. The rain comes down harder but you can still see the spots of lime green littering the grass where the rambunctious German shepherd left his tennis balls. Spoiled.

The cognac color of his leather couch set is rich, and it shines even in the dim lighting like it was freshly lotioned. It looks like the kind of comfortable where the cushions mold against the weight of your body - soft, inviting, the one in the middle looking a little more worn in than the rest. This must be Steve’s favorite spot.

Your eyes meet the 65” TV mounted to the wall in front of it and realize why. The coffee table matches the dark color of the floors. The candle that was the culprit for the smell of his house sitting in the middle next to three remotes lined perfectly next to each other.

There’s a long, taller companion table that sits at the other doorway that leads back out to the landing of his staircase. Framed pictures, bottles of various liquors of all shades and crystal cocktail glasses cover the top of it.

What does he think of your place?

You try to push the intrusive thought down as you make your way to the lush Monstera plant that sits in a white pot on top of wooden legs next to the sliding glass door. Its leaves hang heavy, clearly taken care of. The deep emerald of it reminds you of what Steve’s eyes look like sometimes. The soil takes what you give it greedily, barely leaving enough for the few smaller plants that rest on shadow shelves along his gray walls. A few of them make you stand on your tiptoes to reach.

Curiosity wins on your way to refill the can, crossing the room to look at the framed pictures. You aren’t surprised when you see one of Eddie and Bandit as a puppy, it looks like the first day they brought him home. Eddie’s dimples show in a bright smile as he looks at the camera with Bandit’s big bubble gum pink tongue pressed sloppily against a clean shaven cheek.

The other is of Steve and a curly haired boy at a college graduation, they both look like they were caught in the middle of laughing at something. You can’t help your own smile when you look at it. Steve looks a little younger, a little less gray in his hair like it had only just started. He’s wearing wire rim glasses, and that crisp white dress shirt you like him in so much. He looks happy.

The last one is of Steve and Bandit. A selfie taken at sunrise, Bandits tongue sticks out and you swear he’s smiling just like his handsome owner that has him pulled against his side. A part of a tent peaks over his shoulder and you wonder if this is where they’re at right now.

You’re hit with the smell of his cologne when you open his office door, your thighs pressing together when you imagine him sitting in the big black leather chair behind an even bigger, matching colored desk. Glass cased baseball memorabilia takes space on one of his walls, along with plaques of achievements from his job. There’s framed pictures of him shaking hands of baseball players you couldn’t name, but you’re sure a normal person who liked sports could. There’s a tall bookshelf on the other side of the room. The spines all glossed, bright bold wording of sports memoir’s, marketing guides, and what looks like college course advertising books.

The floor of this room is carpeted with the same color as the area rugs in his living room. Your footsteps are a little more careful as you try not to spill any water on it as you make your way to the three hanging spider plants in the window that overlooks his front yard.

Your nose catches a hint of the cigars you know he smokes as you get closer to his desk. He must keep them in here. A silver closed MacBook sits on top of it, another baseball — only this one is signed and kept safe in a glass case. There's a Polaroid of Bandit with a cubs hat on his head with a laughing Peach barely visible behind him. The obvious closeness of the three of them makes you realize how much he let you into his world the other night.

A world where he wanted to kiss you.

You curse under your breath when you almost spill water on the carpet, too lost in realization of what this could be.

When you reach your final destination on the second floor, you stop at his closed door. Your hand hovers over the knob, heart hammering so hard in your chest like he was waiting for you on the other side. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you exhale through your lips - willing your nerves to give you mercy. There’s a soft click when you turn the knob and the quietest noise from the hinges when you push it open.

The crisp white of his fluffy duvet that covers his king size bed, mutes the gray of his walls. The olive green throw at the end of it that matches the area rug under the bed, the warmth of the color relaxes your senses. Your breathing evens out, your heart rate slows down.

There’s another dog bed at the foot of his that matches the one downstairs and you wonder how often Bandit really sleeps in this one at night. The lack of hair on it compared to the other one tells you not very often. Your cheeks tingle fiercely when you see the mirror you got a glimpse of his bare chest through, your eyes quickly finding the bathroom he had come out of.

“Jesus Christ,” you grumble to yourself, trying to push back the memory while standing alone in his bedroom.

There’s another Monstera by his window that you can see your bedroom out of. The last one on the list. You have to pass by another large dresser on your way, even more pictures sit on top of it, taking up the space that was left next to a cherry wood watch box. Another cedar candle sits behind the framed pictures, the scent lingering in the air despite not being lit.

The plants take what’s left in the watering can, and you peek out the window just to see what he sees. The navy curtains you’d hung up are half open giving you a perfect glimpse into your room, the pile of dirty laundry you plan to do after this perfectly visible. You gulp audibly.

The can swings loosely in your hand when you walk to the dresser, a smirk already forming on your lips at the thought of what these ones will tell you about him. Your eyes land on one of him in between Eddie and Peach on what seems to be their wedding day, both of them placing sloppy kisses on either cheek. The big dopey grin face doesn’t hide the tear stains. The White Chapel sign behind them tells you it’s Vegas, and the way Steve is dressed as a much sexier Elvis only confirms your suspicions.

Next to that one is a picture of Steve, only he looks really young- fresh out of high school young. Biting your lip into a smile at the volume of his hair, he’s leaning against a maroon BMW with pants so tight you're sure they made all the girls flustered. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes before taking in the brown curly haired girl sticking her head out of the back seat window. Another girl with honey waves pushing her head out in the small space next to her, you swear you can hear the giggles that are so evident on their faces.

Thunder cracks loudly outside, bringing you back with a jump. You’re dreading the short walk home. You glance out the window wearily before bringing your attention back to the little bit of Steve scattered over the top of his dresser. Then you see it. You see her.

The frame that holds the picture is silver, the words ‘always and forever’ etched across the bottom. It’s taken somewhere tropical and Steve looks like he’s your age in it, his jaw somehow sharper, his hair blonder. His smile is so big it shows all of his teeth, a bright yellow short sleeve button up that makes his skin look golden. The top two buttons undone revealing the chest hair you’d gotten a few glimpses of. He’s glowing.

She’s just as beautiful, big bright green eyes and dark chestnut hair that falls in effortless curls down to her chest. They look natural, like she didn’t have to do it herself. She’s tucked into his side in what looks like seats in the back of a boat, the coral dress that flows over the curves of her body makes your stomach turn. The big rock on her hand rested purposefully on his chest tells you exactly what this picture is.

Jealousy twists green in a tight knot inside of you, guilt you weren’t expecting makes you feel nauseous when you see what’s hanging off the corner of the frame. A dark teal rubber bracelet with the words Team ALS Chicago 2022 in white font.

Lightning flashes white hot, making something gleam and catch in the corner of your eye from his watch box. Taking a closer look, the tightening of your chest at what you find makes the air leave your lungs all at once when you see their wedding rings tucked in between the soft white cushions inside the box.

The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. Steve had a whole life before he met you. A life with someone beautiful, someone he didn’t fall out of love with, someone who didn’t break his heart, someone who, if things were different he’d still be with.

If you moved next door in that reality, you’d just be someone he’d maybe wave to from time to time, not paying any mind to the thirty year old girl already suffering through a midlife crisis next door. The girl who moved to the city with no friends and no plan. The college drop out. The opposite of the well put together woman that belonged hanging off his chest like that, with a ring on her finger that could pay off your credit card debt and then some.

How can you compete with a ghost? The nagging feeling that you’ll always be second best already stings and he hasn’t even picked you yet.

You try to blink away the tears that threaten to spill out, feeling stupid for being this upset over what started off as a silly crush, it really shouldn’t hurt this much. The cedar that comforted you feels like it's suffocating now. Like he’s here. The thought of bringing the watering can down doesn’t even cross your mind when you leave it on the dresser to make your escape.

The breath that comes out through trembling lips is shaky, still, you're proud of the fact that you haven’t cried yet.

Tough girl.

When you open the front door, it's windier than when you first got here, the sun starting its disappearing act for the moon. It makes the summer storm match the one brewing inside of you. You shove your feet into your shoes before pulling the door shut behind you. You lock the key back into the box, before grabbing your umbrella. Your vision goes blurry but you don’t give into it, telling yourself it’s stupid to be so upset. The buzz of your phone in your back pocket is what stops you from taking the first step off his porch.

Steve

Found a spot with some service on our hike, just wanted to check in. Hope you got into the house okay. Bandit says he misses you.

The dam that you’d worked so hard to build breaks, tears falling down your face like the rain falling from the sky. You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand before you reply to him for what you tell yourself is the last time. It’ll hurt less like this, it’s better for both of you this way. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself before you hit send.

Plants are watered 👍

beta’d by: @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

chapter seven

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #older!steve harrington #older!steve #all i really want is you series #Spotify

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toxicanonymity · 9 months

Text

birds of prey (one shot)

2600 words, dark RAIDER!tommy x f!reader

Summary: Tommy recently joined the raiding group that killed everyone in your family. When the group comes back to claim the house for their own use, he finds you in the basement. A/N: This is a DIFFERENT READER, not joel's reader. I wanna introduce raider!Tommy before raider joel crosses paths with him (we're not there yet). THANK YOU @dark-scape for the group name, symbol, and soundboard. Also to @romanarose for requesting Tommy in raider!Joel. WARNINGS!!: I8+ mdni, extremely dubious consent unsafe P in V and oral M receiving, dirty talk, pet names, dark/toxic affection- do not be fooled, degradation. NO USE OF Y/N.

The raiders first came a week ago and killed everyone but you–they never found you in the basement. They took everything they could use, so you aren't sure why they're back, but in your gut you know it's them when you hear the tires on gravel. You make your way down to the basement again. The entry is through a closet floor and it looks like more of a crawl space until you climb down into it. You told everyone it’d be safest there, but they thought if they begged for their lives and let them take everything, the men might be reasonable.

The short, dirty window at the top of the wall is open and their voices make your stomach turn.

"Den's big enough, got a kitchen 'n all. Hell, wood's already chopped." They laugh and the door handle jiggles. "Locked?"

"What? Y'all lock it when ya left?"

"Didn't think so."

They bust down the door.

"So this is it," a new voice announces calmly. "The new nest."

Someone corrects him, "That's lame, man. You don't gotta call it that when he's not around."

"Takes this Birds of Prey shit too literally," another man agrees.

They start showing the new guy around.

One of the men asks, "think the big guy'll like it?"

After a moment of silence, someone says "let's talk about the big guy. " It sounds like they're planning a coup. They agree to find somewhere in the house to hide the loot and leave one man behind to guard it overnight. They break up to look for a hiding place.

—-

Inevitably, the door to your space opens. "Crawlspace," the new voice says. Then he steps down. It’s just him. He hunches over and walks until the ceiling is higher. You're huddled in the corner under a desk. He scuffs his boot on the ground and a huge layer of dust gets kicked up. He looks around for a minute and says "alright, alright," to himself. You can only see his boots. Your nose tickles from the dust and you're trying to stave off a sneeze. When his boots turn back toward the door, You're relieved. But you can't keep the tickle at bay. You squeak ever so quietly into your shoulder, then the boots turn in your direction.

Your heart goes to your throat as the man slowly crouches down. Mustache, long, dark hair, denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up. Heavily tattooed, though you can’t make anything out. He raises his eyebrows and his lips purse in bemusement. He clasps his large hands and says “Well hey there,” like he’s speaking to a child.

You’re silent.

“What are ya doin’ down here?”

“It’s my house,” you say.

He nods thoughtfully and his brows knit apologetically, but his voice doesn’t match. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he says ominously. “My friends said it’s our house, now.” He frowns exaggeratedly.

Your eyes sting with the dusty air and you realize you’ve had your eyes wide and not blinked this entire time.

"MILLER WHERE THE HELL ARE YA," someone yells.

He sighs and stands up.

“Don’t tell them,” you beg.

“Why wouldn’t I,” he asks, still standing up, out of view.

“I’ll do anything,” you say.

“Anything,” he repeats, then sighs. “Wouldn’t’ve taken ya for that kinda girl. Looked like an angel to me.”

“MILLER!!!!”

“Please,” you beg.

“We’ll see,” he says curtly then turns around and leaves. When he gets up the stairs and opens the door, he announces he found a crawlspace that’ll work.

—----

They unload the stuff, then someone asks, “Who’s stayin’?”

“New guy,” someone says.

“Can ya handle it, Miller?” another voice asks. “Place like this might get spooky at night.”

The men chuckle.

“I’m good,” Miller says.

“That’s the spirit, Tommy boy.”

“See ya tomorrow.”

—

Tommy starts bringing crates down, and the men get ready to leave. They continue to talk amongst themselves upstairs on their way out. Tommy crouches down to look at you, a little closer this time, about two meters away. He smiles at you then sits on the floor with his hands behind him, not saying anything. As the men leave, you both overhear their crude banter. Tommy looks at the window as he listens.

"Think she's ready for more?"

"I call back door first." Your heart drops thinking about whoever’s waiting for them back where they came from.

"Shit, you can have it. D'ya see the lips on her?" There’s no way she’s willingly waiting for this disgusting group of men.

"I wanna see what Tommy boy can do to that pussy."

“Not tonight!” one says and they laugh.

"He doesn't have it in'm," another one says.

Tommy seems to bristle at this. Then he dons a subtle smirk, looks at you, and slowly sucks in air though his teeth like he's breaking some bad news. "'m afraid I do," he nods. "Just don’t like sharin’." He sighs. His nose twitches and you don’t like it. He’s pensive, like he has something to prove. He says, “Hope they don’t do ya like that once they find ya.”

You hug your knees and bury your head to cry. “What do you want,” you ask.

“Why don’t ya come on out for a start.”

You look at him. He’s not moving from his position. He nods toward the wall as though to give you permission to sit away from him. He watches you like a hawk as you slowly crawl, still sniffling, and you sit against the wall with your legs out.

“Good girl,” he says gently, then begins to get up. You flinch when he stands, but he takes the chair from the desk and turns it to face you. He sits in it, only about a meter away now. At this distance, you can see his freckles and the sparkle in his eyes and you hate to admit it, but he’s pretty good looking. You look at each other for a few seconds. Apparently he’s thinking the same thing. “Pretty, too. Aren’t ya, angel?”

He leans back and his chest puffs out as he takes off his denim jacket. “Too hot for this,” he mutters and throws it onto the desk. His t-shirt lets you see how strong his chest and arms are as he settles back into the chair and manspreads with his hands on his thighs. One of his hands has a fresh tattoo of a talon on it. His jeans are ripped below the one knee. “So you’ll do anything, huh,” he says contemplatively. He smooths his hair and looks at the window, then around the room. “Guess I’ve got all night to find out what that means.”

You consider your options. If he really doesn’t like sharing, giving yourself to him is your best shot at staying secret from the other men.

“Can I have some water,” you ask.

He laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, what else ya want? A cheeseburger?” He sighs, braces his hands on his knees, and leaves. He doesn’t come back for hours.

You’re tired. So tired. It’s been the worst week of your life, and that’s saying a hell of a lot. You’re too tired to fight, too tired to even care what he might do to you. You fall asleep.

—--------

You wake up to the sound of boots thudding down the stairs. It’s dark out now. “Got lost, sorry,” he booms. He’s carrying a short crate that has a lantern, a jug of water, a bottle of whiskey, and some jerky. He sets the crate down on the desk. He puts the water jug next to your feet, and he lingers. He squats down and caresses your cheek with his knuckle. You smell his sweat and you smell he’s been drinking. His lips part as he looks at you, and you try to ignore the sparkle in his eyes in the lamp light. He’s sweaty, and his masculine smell makes you tingle. He offers you some jerky with a little smile but you say, “no thank you.”

“Those manners,” he whispers with a smile. His mustache twitches charmingly. He takes off his boots and sits next to you on the wall and his large hand engulfs your thigh. He wets his lips and looks at you. “What are we gonna do?” he asks softly.

“Just tell me what you want,” you whine.

He shakes his head no. “I wanna know what you want.”

“I wanna live, I wanna not be gang banged, I want my family back, I want-” you start to cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says. He reaches for you and you flinch, but he gets up on his knees and forces you into a consoling embrace. You cry into his shirt and he says “Shhhhh, shhhhhh.” He pats your head. “You’re not gonna get gang banged if you’re mine, I promise.”

The most unsettling mix of relief and dread floods your upper body. Your lower body, meanwhile, is all warmth and tingling. Oh, god. He hugs you into his hair which smells like cigarettes, campfire, and something sour. “C’mere,” he says, and uses your hair to pull your head back slightly, gently. Enough to look at your face.

----

He dips his head, and at first all you can do is watch his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows. But then his face drifts toward yours, and you tense in anticipation. He closes his eyes and kisses you. His lips are plush and gentle. Your lips remain firm and still until they don’t. When his tongue brushes the seam of your lips, they let him in. Your mouths are connected for a good thirty seconds before he breaks the kiss and looks at you. Then he wraps his hands around your back and lifts you up onto your knees so you’re both kneeling on the cold concrete as he licks into your mouth. He wraps his arms around you tight and attacks your mouth with his again, with more fervor this time, his suction making your lips tingle.

His cock hardens against you. He breaks the kiss and takes a deep breath against the side of your mouth. He grabs your ass and pulls you into him, pressing his hardness into you. He sighs.

Then he lets go of your ass and his hands come between you. He urgently unbuttons and unzips your jeans, then pulls them down. You feel like there’s no stopping what’s about to happen, so you obediently take them off as he removes his own without taking his eyes off you. “Those too,” he nods at your panties. As you remove them, the damp cotton is cool against your inner thigh and you realize how wet you are. Warmth rushes to your face.

----

“C’mere, angel,” he whispers, and he sits down in his boxers. He pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling him, hovering, at first. He reaches between your legs and groans as his fingers meet your wetness. He gazes at you with wonder in his eyes. “Beautiful girl.” He looks down and watches his hand as he slides his fingers through your folds, front and back. His strong chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. He pulls you by the ass, grinding your crotch into the massive tent in his boxers and the contact makes you twitch. “Fuck,” he sighs when your loins are pressed up against each other. He makes space to get his cock out and you try not to stare. It’s thick. Suddenly, you’re salivating. You wet your lips and he notices.

“Lemme put it here, first,” he says softly and rubs your cunt. “Okay?” He nods for you as he positions you over his cock and notches himself for entry. He’s waiting for your go-ahead like it means something. You offer an almost imperceptible nod, then he pulls you down hard on his cock with a groan. You gasp as his girth parts your walls.

“Then—ohhh—then ya can suck it,” he says. He lifts his hips. “Maybe.” He moves you on his cock. “Shit this feels good.” He holds you close and wraps an arm around you. He moves his hips forward from the wall with a sharp thrust up into you. He gets enough space to lean back a little and pull you against his chest for leverage, with enough clearance to fuck up into you. “Yeah, ohh shit.” As your body adjusts to his girth, your eyes close in pleasure. His thrusts are sharp and deep. He’s strong, so strong the way he holds you. Tension knots in your gut as his girth fills you up over and over.

“Ride it, baby. C’mere.” He sits back down flatter against the wall again and manhandles you on his cock. “C’mon, baby.” You might as well get something out of it, so you move your hips and get close enough to him to grind your clit into his pelvis. “Aww, yeah,” he breathes, “Yeahh, like that.” He reaches for your head. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he whispers, then pulls your face into his again. His hips rock in rhythm with yours as he fills your mouth with his tongue.

You accidentally hum “Mmm” into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss to say “oh you like it, huh,” pounding into you a little harder. “You like this big cock.” Each time he fills you, you’re less and less ready for this to end. “That’s good,” he rubs his nose against your temple. “gonna get a lot of it.” He holds the back of your head and reads your eyes in the dim lamp light then kisses you again. You break the kiss with a moan, feeling yourself on the edge.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. “Shit yeah,” He puts both his hands on your ass and moves you on his cock, determined to fill you with every smidgen of him.

You whimper at the stretch, the sheer fullness.

“You’re there,” he says. “C’mon, baby,” his thick cock sliding in and out of you, stretching you, filling you like you thought you might never be filled, “C’mon, angel. C’mon.” The tension snaps and you groan as your cunt spasms around his cock. “Ohhh, yeahhh, yeahhh,” Tommy says, “shit, yeah.” Your body jerks into his. “Fuckin’ beautiful."

He slows you down and sucks in a deep breath as you keep spasming. “Shit,” he sighs. He stops moving and tries to compose himself. He’s trying not to come. He pulls you off before you’re finished coming. You look at him and he’s biting his lip, his eyes are smiling, his hand is wrapped around his cock. “Now suck it for me.” He reaches up and his huge hand engulfs the back of your head. “Now,” he says more urgently. He pulls down and you oblige, reeling in aftershocks and shame.

You take his tip in your mouth and his hips lift as you suck it. He forces your head down on his cock and you gag on it. “Ohh, shit.” He pulls your head down harder then explodes against the back of your throat with a long, drawn out sigh of relief. His hot spend paints the back of your throat. You swallow it then let him slide out of your mouth.

—--

Tommy catches his breath for a moment, then puts his dick away and gets up to put on his pants. It feels abrupt, but you’re not sure what you expected. Surely not pillow talk. He towers over you as he zips up. You look up at him and he tilts his head, looking at you affectionately. Then his face changes.

“Dumb slut.”

Your stomach drops as he walks away.

-------

--------

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! You can follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications for updates.

Joel and Tommy are not in touch. When they cross paths it will have been a long time since they saw each other.

This reader will be Tommy's and he'll gain some power in the group.

#dark!tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #raider!tommy miller #tommy miller #tommy miller smut #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tommy miller fic #tw dubcon #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!tommy

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siredtoyourlips · 8 months

Text

Chosen ones

Sirius x Remus x Fem!Reader

Summary~ The aftermath of the war and Y/n Potter daughter of James and Lily Potter and Sister of Harry Potter stayed behind and helped rebuild and heal those who needed help after it, in those two years of staying behind she got closer to Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. What happens when she overhears them talking about something she probably shouldn't have heard?

1.5k words

Warnings~ Small talk about the war, Reader is a nurse, kinda girly ( she wears a skirt), Dirty talk, Threesome, Anal, unprotected sex ( that's a nono), Breading kink ( at the end), James is dead but its still James best friends, kissing, Remus and Sirius kinda fighting over reader, soft sex basically, pet names, my writing, reader got hurt from a belt, Sub!Reader Dom! Remus and Sirius, Kinda begging but not really Reader is about 19-20 and Remus and Sirius are 40.

PSA~ this is never permanently stated but Remus and Sirius are like Lowkey together

Where ever I go there's always eyes glued to me, it's not anything I did per say but its because who I am and the family I was born into.

Two years ago me and my brother defeated the dark lord and the death eaters, they killed friends and family, they ruined our school and traumatized many of us but they didn't take away what was left of our family. We had to make it look like Sirius died so the death eaters would think they had an edge on us, oh were they wrong.

We won and saved people who probably weren't going to be saved like Sirius, Remus, Fred, and Lavender. Every since the war everyone gets along better there's no hateful things said about people with different blood statuses or abilities like there was before.

While Harry went to be an Auror and start his life with Ginny, I stayed behind to help rebuild the castle and help those who were in need, I'm a part-time nurse. I still live with Sirius and Remus or should I say they live with me, I pay the bills but after the war they just wanted to be alone from all the prying eyes and who could blame them. From my parents dying to this day all attention has been on us. It's finally dying down.

Today has been a long day, while so many people are working on building the school there's also so many people getting hurt, I have at least 10 patients a day and today that was tripped. This day is finally ending.

As I walk through the front door I see all the lights off except for one, the living room light. I take my shoes off and walk into the lighted up room and I assume the two men who I've lived with the past two years are on the couch, Remus is wide awake with just a pair of pants on watching some muggle documentary but Sirius is no where to be found .

Remus sees me and waves me over to sit with him, and I do. See the thing is I live with the hottest men ever and it drives me insane especially when they dress like this.

' long day sweetheart?' he asks when I lay my head on his shoulder and I just mumble a 'mhm' and feel him putting a blanket around me. I feel so cozy that I don't realize that I was falling asleep until what I assume is not that later because Remus is watching the same thing but Sirius is on the other side of me rubbing my back, and I feel safe, and I start dozing off again

'how long has she been sleeping?' that's Sirus's voice. ' bout an hour, she fell asleep right after she came home, long day at work'.

'I bet' Sirius mumbles. 'Her short outfits always drives me insane, I swear she does it on purpose' Sirius says and I hear Remus clear his throat before he sits up straight and my head falls and hits his belt. And that's when I really wake up 'ow' I mumble as Remus picks up my head and looks like a deer in headlights, I can tell he feels so bad for moving ' I'm so sorry hunny' he says, clearly tense ' its ok' I say.

Sirius stands up and looks at my head, 'nothing bad love just a little red' he says and takes my hand and says ' lets go to bed, ok?' and I just nod.

They both walk me up stairs and after what I think I heard Sirius say I'm curious as to how Remus feels too so I say, 'can i sleep in your room tonight please?'. and they don't say anything and just open their door and let me come in.

This wasn't a first time thing, I have nightmares frequently and if I don't end up in their bed one or both of them come in mine so I feel more safe after the dream I had. ' How does your head feel' Sirius asks and they both look at my head than at me ' fine, doesn't really hurt at all.

'Im so sorry that you had to wake up to that Y/n'. Remus says and I blurt out ' was kinda awake anyways' rookie mistake Y/n, and they both just look at each other and Sirius asks 'so you heard what we were talking about then?'

I look at him and say 'yeah, didn't mean to but I did' and sirius looked freaked while Remus was the calm one this time. 'Why didn't you say anything' Sirius asks you. 'I dunno, was scared' and they look at each other than back at you 'of what love?' Remus says. You just shrug, you're too tired to do this, so you get up and walk to the door but they both jump right up and stop you sirius closes the door and Remus tilts your head towars him, and with a wave of confidence Remus says 'baby, you gotta tell us what you're thinking' and you do, but have to, theres no way around it. 'I feel that way too' I mumble under my breath and of course they heard it.

'Is that so?' Sirius asks as he walks up to me and picks me up, not giving a single inch of attention to Remus and puts me back on the bed and kisses me without warning. And I let him and if wasn't for Remus yanking Sirius back I don't think the kiss would have ended. It took ten seconds from Sirius kissing me to Remus kissing me.

Remus backs up and just looks at me, his and Sirius's eyes and blown. 'We have to stop, if we don't then I'm going to go all the way' Remus says ' yeah' sirius mumbles.

'I want to go all the way' I say and it doesn't take ten seconds before Sirius's shirt is thrown and I'm laying down with Remus hands going to my shirt taking it off. Then my skirt, and I look over to Sirius and the only thing he has on is his boxers, and you can see how hard he is. Remus now backs up and takes his belt and pants off while Sirius kisses down my neck and reaches his hand down my back and unclips my bra and Remus comes back over and lifts up my ass and takes off my panties.

They both sit back for a minute to look at me, but that miniute ends when Sirius starts rubbing my clit ' that feel good baby, yeah. I bet it does' Sirius whispers into my hear. Remus brings his hand down and starts fingering me. ' shit baby, so tight. How are you ever going to fit me?' he mumbles to himself 'want your cock please' and the second I say that I can tell that they both are about to tackle each other.

Remus stand up and takes his boxers off and out springs the biggest dick I've ever seen. I can't stop staring at it ' you ready baby' Remus says and he lines himself 'mhm' you mumble and he slowly starts stretching you out. And your breath shakes and he notices it ' breath hunny, you got this' and you nod your head and say 'please move' and he does. he goes slow at first but then slowly starts to go faster, and you look over to Sirius who's looking at your tits bouncing, ' want your cock Siri' and he pulls his boxers down and says 'where do you want me baby'

And you think for a second and look at Remus 'please' you say and he looks at you all confused and slows down ' what baby' and you whisper something in his ear and he's grinning ear to ear. He picks you up and walks you around the bed to Sirius and says ' she wants you to take her in her ass' and Sirius doesn't waste a moment before he's going to his drawer and grabbing his lube and making sure it wont hurt as bad

'you ready doll?' he asks and waits for a response ' yeah' and then he very slowly sinks you down on his dick. and slowly starts to move. The faster Remus goes the faster Sirius does and it feels so good. ' OH MY GOD' you moan out. 'Shit' Sirius mumbles as he goes faster and Remus runs your clit ' Shit, fuck DADDY' you scream out and it surprises them both but they don't care who it was directed at, you don't even know who it was at, it doesnt matter.

'Shit, baby you about to cum?' Remus asks and you just nod your head. 'Cum with us sweetheart' Sirius says and you do right before they both cum in you. It felt so good that you blacked out and when you gain control again they're both pulled out and Remus had a warm wet rag against your pussy and ass wiping the mess they made.

'Next time my cum is staying in you baby' Remus says right before you pass out.

#smut #fanfiction #sirius black smut #remus lupin smut #remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #sirius black fluff #harry potter universe #threes0me

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astromaxi · 15 days

Note

Hi!! I saw your post about being open to req's and was wondering if you could do a yandere jjk x reader one!

Snow leopard hybrid gojo would not leave my mind and i've been rotating a scenario in my head about reader smelling a bit too much of other men. But they aren't dating and gojo's is starting to go insane about it and so confronts reader bout it.

i mean you could do it without satoru being a hybrid, i don't really mind. i'm just craving for a yan gojo rn

I AM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE

HOLY SHIT- SCHOOL SUCKS

BUT I'M ALMOST DONE YAY

Warnings: slightly possessive Gojo, crappy writing, maybe full on possessive Gojo, Gojo having a scent kink thing, so mdi (?) 18+ (?), Gojo really loving your smell and but also calling you smelly (I’m scening a slight theme with my writing…)

As always lmk if I miss anything and this isn’t proof read so grammar mistakes 🫶

———-

Fem reader!

‘Jesus Christ I want to quit my job’ was all that was running through my head as I walked up the sets to my home, my feet crying out for relaxation after the horrible treatment of a 9-hour shift. All I want to do right now is to curl up in my bed and cry.

I open my front door, and at the same time, my phone starts to ring off. Huffing I close the door and set down my bag, I awkwardly shuffle through my pockets to see ‘Gojo’ lighting up my screen. An exaggerated sign escapes my lips as I answer the call. “Hello?” My horse voice spoke out, “I’m coming over! I see you off of work” a very happy Gojo responded to me, I looked down at my disgusting work clothes and the overall quality of how I felt, “Gojo- look, I don’t feel like hanging-“ “Great! I’ll be over in 5 minutes.” Was all I heard before the abrupt sound of the call being hanged up. I roughly made my way to my bathroom, if Gojo is coming over might as well look decent.

The thing with Gojo is, that he has been becoming increasingly clingy to me. Especially knowing days when I have work it’s almost as if there’s some sort of thing growing inside himself. I tend to brush him off whenever he buries his head into the crook of my neck, his long lengthy arms curled tightly around my stomach, or when he invites himself to stay the night but insists that I wear his clothes. I brush it off as Gojo being himself as he is usually very overly touching with everyone in his life- but sometimes- sometimes, it feels a little off.

I sighed as I heard my front door opening and closing I wrapped a large towel around my body. I run my fingers through my wet hair as I cringe at it being tangled up. I slip on an old hoodie and a pair of shorts, using the towel to dry my hair I set out of the bathroom and I’m immediately pushed against the wall nearby. My vision gets clouded by a mop of white hair and twitching light grey ears, as Gojo buries his head into the crook of my neck.

“Mm-Gojo!” I yelp in surprise as I place my hands on his solid chest trying to move him off of me

Keyword: trying

Gojo slips his hands down my arms, creating goosebumps in his wake as he grabs my hands with his own and places them around his midsection. His own hands find home on my hips as I feel an aggressive sign flow out of him. “M’ not Gojo, it’s ’Toru to you” his voice is horsed, and Gojo buries his head more into my neck- if that’s even physically possible. “You smell like other guys.” Gojo bluntly says,

I raise my eyebrows at him, my hands are mindlessly playing with his Snow White hair. “What do you mean ‘Toru?” I ask, the man-child before me lets out a groan. He raises his head from my neck and stares at me with his ocean-blue eyes. My heartbeat picks up as I feel my face heat up. Wordless Gojo tilts his head to the side, his eyes turn to something more obsessive. His pale hands travel up my body to cup my face, the air in my lungs gets stuck in there.

“You smell. Every day, every single day you always smell and it’s driving me insane.” He leans into me, our lips inches apart as his eyes dart down to my lips. “You should only smell like me, only be with me. I can give you so much baby.” His right-hand caresses the side of my face. I shake my head

“ ‘Toru you..” I let out a shaky sigh “You don’t want-“ “I know exactly what I want baby.” Gojo cuts me off, his breath growing more aggressive.

His lips move to the shell of my ear. “I want, no- need you baby. I need it so badly you don’t even know the depth of it” he whispers in my ear as he goes back to face me. “You need me to, I’ll prove it to you.” I nodded my head, allured to the words Gojo was feeding me, our lips connected as he immediately pressed the kiss. His arms cage me against this wall. My knees feel like they are going to give out.

“I’m going to show you just how much I need you baby.”

—————

A/n: this isn’t really that yandere, kinda forgot about that while writing this LMAO

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wonwoosthetic · 6 months

Note

AHHH I love the Joel x reader series, the way their relationship unfolds is chef kiss! Can we have a fic on how they met, the process they went getting to know each other specially after Sarah’s mom left him must not be easy for Joel to fall in love again so it will be nice to read how reader broke his walls down

Have a nice day 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

series masterlist

warnings - men (only stupid words, no name-calling, etc.), alcohol, cursing

word count - 11k

a/n: I didn't plan for this to become a two-parter, but I guess that's just how it goes sometimes haha. Also: this is SO long overdue, I'm so sorry, I took a break from this series, but I'm back! And there are more requests to come ˙ᵕ˙ thank you so so much for the request and your sweet and kind words🥺, I really hope you like this, and then the 2nd part that will include much more Joel x Reader content🤭 and I hope you have a wonderful day/night🤍🤍

You're Lonely. I Can Fix That. Pt. 1

1999

"Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!" A familiar deep voice from behind you called out, catching you off guard. "If it isn't sweet lil' Y/N." With a forced smile, you turned to the left. Right away, your eyes found the one and only Tommy Miller. The infamous dark locks were still unruled on top of his head. He wore his hair slightly longer than you remembered. The cheeky grin, the entire town had come to know, was still as evident as ever plastered on his face.

He had just made his way to the bar, where you had been occupying a barstool for the past hour.

You welcomed him with a tight smile, "Hey, Tommy." Surprising you, the older man threw an arm around your shoulder to pull you into a side hug that you reciprocated slightly awkwardly. He had caught you off-guard.

"How the hell they're lettin' you in here?" With a smirk, he took a seat right next to you, his palms brushing over the dark oak of the bartop. He definitely felt comfortable.

You held onto the drink you had been nursing ever since you got there. "I just know the right people," you teased him with a smile, making him chuckle.

"Wow, breakin' the law now too? What happened to you?" His fake gasp almost sounded too real. You joined him, giggling at his comment. "How have ya been?" He added before you could add a snarky remark to his rhetorical question.

You nodded, "Good. Busy."

"You in college now?" Tommy asked. You wondered if his Southern Accent had gotten even stronger. After not seeing you for a good two years, the younger Miller brother wasn't yet caught on to your current life.

Another nod from you, to which he smiled. "Smart girl. What 'bout your sister? How's she?" The corners of your lips curled into a smile. You just waited for that question to finally drop. Her name had to enter the conversation at some point.

"Still not interested in you." You sent him a wide grin.

He shook his head with a chuckle. "Why you gotta hurt me like that, sweetheart?" You rolled your eyes at his love for nicknames - just like you always did - minus the fake gag you used to do behind his back.

Ever since you could remember, Tommy Miller, one of town's biggest troubles and flirts, had been ogling after your older sister. She was probably the only girl who had never given in to his charming personality. At one point, you had stopped counting the calm afternoons you were sitting in your parents' restaurant, either helping out or doing your homework, getting interrupted by the distracting loud voices of Tommy and his friend group. They always chose to sit at the same booth - the one with the perfect view through the slit window into the kitchen.

After a few months, you were convinced that they weren't visiting for the food or drinks. You had caught onto their actions. Tommy was after your sister. And knowing where to find her after school was for his benefit. Only problem: she was interested in anything, and everything, but the youngest Miller brother. It still never failed to amuse you how dedicated the boy was to get her attention in any way possible - even if it was for all the wrong reasons and probably just wanted to tick her off his list of 'girls in town I've slept with'.

And even now, years after she had left your Southern hometown, he was still thinking about her. It almost made you 'awe'.

"Where's she? I haven't seen her in forever." He interrupted your train of thought.

"Do you really wanna know?" You asked him teasingly. "I'm about to break your heart." He had to know at some point.

Over exaggerating, he placed his hand on top of his chest, holding onto the wrong side, idiot, and lowered his head. "Please do it quick."

No matter how annoying he was in the past, he was entertaining. You had to give him that. Your slight amusement was hard to conceal. "She's in New York."

Tommy looked back up at you right after those words left your lips, scrunching his eyebrows. "New York? Damn... going big, huh? What's she doin' over there?"

"Marrying a lawyer," you simply answered, leaving him with his mouth hung open as you took a sip from your drink. You almost choked on the liquid once you saw his face.

"Wow," he breathed out dramatically. "She really thinks a lawyer's gonna be better than me?" Both of you knew the answer to his question should stay muted.

You chuckled. "I convinced her that a lawyer would be better than you."

Getting a laugh from him in return. "You little-" He reached out, ready to destroy your hairstyle with his fingers, when the two of you got interrupted.

"This man's troubling you, Y/N?" The sudden voice of your friend behind the bar caught your attention. After serving the people on the other end, she had gotten back to you, expecting to continue your conversation from before, when the man next to you caught her eye.

"Oh, this is trouble in person," you told her with a smile.

Tommy sat up straight right away, a proud grin plastered on his face. He seemed to be very proud of the title you had given him.

"That would be me." He reached out his right hand over the countertop. "Tommy," introducing himself to your friend and bartender for the night.

"Maria," she accepted his hand, shaking it briefly, locking eyes with him for a second too long. You immediately noticed the change in her gaze, making your smile drop within a split second.

She was quick to turn on her work persona, asking him for his order and turning around to snatch the two beers he had asked for out of the fridge. Of course, not without sending you an amused grin. You had to hold back the shake of your head tickling you.

While Tommy still had his ass planted onto the seat next to you, you caught a glimpse of a group of men in a booth right behind the younger Miller brother. Their stares were too hard to miss. The faces seemed familiar.

You cleared your throat. "Your friends seem nervous."

Your comment caught Tommy's attention. With a swift look behind him, he sent them a nod before turning back to you. "Eh," he brushed it off, "They'll be alright. Probably just jealous it's me sitting here with a pretty girl instead of one of them." No. Just no.

"Tommy," you warned him, turning your head to look right into his eyes, a teasing smile threatening to expose you. "No." Just as quick as he had looked up, the little glimpse of almost hope evaporated, replaced by humour as he threw his head back in laughter.

"Oh well," he slapped the countertop, "I tried." You shook your head with a soft chuckle.

Maria was back, in her hand the two cold dark bottles filled with the liquid you couldn't even smell without gagging. She put them down right in front of the Miller brother. A grin that showed her dimple, splashed on her face. You leaned back to watch.

Tommy gave her a nod with a grin, reaching back into his jeans pocket, only to be stopped by your friend.

"It's on the house."

He held still mid-move. "Oh no. No, no, I can't accept that."

Maria held out her hand. "Don't worry 'bout it."

"Nah, I can't just let a drink go on the house. I've been here way too much," Tommy argued, that shit-eating cocky grin still on his lips.

"Never when I was here." The woman behind the bar smirked. You could've sworn she was damn close to winking at him. "So, trust me, it's fine."

With a defeated sigh, the man dropped his head, shaking it with a soft chuckle as he reached for the glass bottles. "I appreciate it, thank you, sweetheart." He stood up, only to turn towards you before officially leaving you alone at the bar again. "Y/N," he called out, getting your attention, "How about joining us for the night?" He nodded towards the table, where the rest of his group was still eyeing you with clear interest. "And Maria, I don't know how long you're working today, but we won't be leavin' anytime soon, so feel free to come too."

Before she could answer, you cut into it. "Thanks, Tommy. We're good, though."

With extended arms to each side, he sent you one last grin. "The offer's open. I ain't takin' it back."

When he finally turned around to join the other three men, you sighed, pushing your barstool straight to lean forward against the countertop. You were met with the crossed arms of your friend and neighbour. A conversation was about to start.

"What?" You wondered, going back to nursing on your drink, that she had made extra sweet just for you.

"'What?'" Maria mocked you, snatching a wet towel to wipe over the wood. "A hot dude just asked you to spend some time with his extremely good-looking group of friends, and you turned him down? What the hell is wrong with you?"

You dropped the straw back into the glass to gasp at her. "I came here to spend some time with you, not to sit around with some weird ass dudes. I know about them. I'm not a fan of them."

Maria didn't grow up around the area. She didn't know about Tommy's reputation just yet. She came to Texas for college after most of them in Boston had rejected her.

After transferring from one college in Kansas to one in your hometown, you had looked for people searching for roommates in the area, when you found Maria's flyer on the campus blackboard. One coffee date later, the two of you knew it was a match made in heaven. You had become almost inseparable ever since.

Back to her trying to set you up for no good.

She chuckled at your comment, switching to drying off some glasses her co-worker had left freshly washed on the counter. "Oh yeah, you're right. They're neither forty-plus nor one of our professors. How dare I even think you could possibly find any of them attractive?"

With an open mouth, you glared at her. "Are you judging me?" Getting only a grin and a shrug in return.

You leaned forward. "I have to pay for every single one of my drinks every time I'm here."

"Well," she put down the glass she had been cleaning, leaning in closer to your face. "You're not a hot country guy with a Southern accent." She really was that easy, huh?

You let yourself fall back slightly, arms crossed in front of your chest as you dared to take a quick glance over to the table, coincidently catching the eyes of one of Tommy's friends as he winked at you, making you almost shiver. And not in a good way.

With a shake of your head, you turned back to Maria, who had caught the quick interaction that made her chuckle.

"You know them?"

"Their faces. I know Tommy, kinda... but I have no idea who his friends are. I only know they're loud and... disgusting." After finishing your drink, you slid it over to her, with a wide smile asking her for another refill, which she accepted with a slight sigh.

"And how do you know him?" She continued interrogating you as she moved around the space to mix the alcohol and fruit juices to make your cocktail.

You raked your fingers through your hair, hoping to style it just the way you had managed to do, only hours ago when you had gotten ready in your bathroom. "He used to have the biggest crush on my sister. I mean," you stopped for a second. "Either that or she was one of the girls on his list."

"His list?" She took a quick look up at you before directing her attention back to the glass in front of her.

"His 'every girl in my year I still need to fuck' list."

Just as she passed you back your now freshly filled glass, Maria gave you an unamused glace along with it, making you chuckle.

"What? I'm serious."

"That was the name of his list?"

"Listen, maybe... maybe not. But I'm sure there was a list. I just couldn't care less what the actual title of it was." You took a quick sip. "So, don't you even dare." You pointed a strict finger at her.

"Don't I even dare what?" She wondered, teasing you because both of you knew where you were going with your thread.

"Give into his disgusting fake charisma!"

"Maybe it's real!" She fought back with a smile, earning herself a straight and monotone facial expression from you. Maria scoffed, "Oh, I'm sorry for being attracted to guys my age." You knew telling her about your crush on the humanity studies professor the two of you shared, would bite you in the ass someday. And now, she won't let it go. Ever.

"Look, at least we won't ever have to fight over a guy." You stated with a grin.

Your friend joined you with a bright smile as she pointed her finger at you, "Amen."

You raised your glass.

With a swift move, Maria threw a fresh washcloth over her shoulder. Her gaze was fixed on the table by the wall a few feet behind you. The one Tommy and his buddies had claimed. Their loud voices were echoing through the entire bar - hollers and shouts that could not be ignored. Maria chuckled.

"You should accept his invitation."

You had to roll your eyes. "I don't want to, thank you very much."

"What about that New Year's resolution of yours? 'Meeting new people', was it?" She teased you. Fuck, you cursed to yourself. She wasn't wrong. The new year was only about a month in, but Maria had already achieved 50% of her resolution, while you were still stuck on yours with 0%. After coming back to your hometown, you remembered most of your old friends from school (not that there had been many) had moved away just about the time you did. And no one had the nerve to come back. So, you were stuck. Stuck with having to meet new people to connect with. But that was a shadow you would have to learn to jump over. And that brings us to your New Year's resolution.

"But-" you groaned, but Maria was ready to interrupt you.

"No buts-" she pointed a strict finger at you. "And they're not even completely 'new' to you. You already know Tommy, that's a start. And that will make getting to know the other ones even easier." Her hands went back to cleaning the bar area.

"I don't even wanna get to know 'the other ones'," you mumbled under your breath, hiding your lips behind the rim of your glass.

Maria looked up. "What was that?"

"Nothing," you quickly added before ending the conversation with a sip.

You took a deep breath. You had two options to choose from. Either you continue your evening alone by the bar, sipping one cocktail after the other, with your best friend by your side whenever she wasn't focused on drunks stumbling over to the counter, lulling about which drink they'd want next. OR you could go after your resolution and try to have a good night with the random idiots you used to curse at back in your school days. You could've hit yourself over the head for even just taking the second option into consideration, but something lured you in.

With a shake of your head, unbelieving of what your body was telling you to do, you pushed yourself away from the counter. The barstool you had been occupying scraped over the wooden floor. Before you turned around, you got a hold of your cocktail - if you were going to do this, you would not be doing it without more alcohol.

By rolling your eyes, and your attention still on the grin Maria sent you along the way, you didn't see the man you were about to run into. Strong hands on your shoulders stopped you. You definitely felt like you had just stepped on someone's toes too.

"Oh, sh-" you whipped your head around. "Sorry." Glancing up, you already found the possible softest brown eyes looking down at you.

"Sorry," the man immediately spoke up too, taking his hands off you as if your skin had burnt him.

"S-Sorry about that," you couldn't help the stutter. God, those eyes were almost bronze, you thought, Jesus, and his curls too...

"All good," he cleared his throat, "just gotta make sure you ain't runnin' someone over with a force like that." His voice was just as warm as his looks.

You almost let an awkward chuckle escape if it hadn't been for Tommy's loud voice echoing through the rumbling background noises of the bar.

"Yo, Joel! Don't forget our beers! You can flirt later!"

Joel. The man didn't even hesitate to turn around. "How about you go get your beers yourselves?" He got a round of groans in return, only for the Miller brother to stand up and jog over to the two of you. You had to catch yourself back into the present again, daydreaming about the man standing in front of you can wait.

With a sheepish grin, Tommy stopped by your side and threw an arm around your shoulder. "Y/N, is this man bothering you?"

"I should ask her that about you, don't you think?" Joel's eyes fell to his brother's hand that had pulled you in close to the side of his chest. Tommy dropped it quickly.

"You're no fun," he hissed at the man in front of you before turning around to lean against the dark wood that was separating him from the bar area.

A weird silence spread between the two of you as your eyes lost focus on the Southern man now behind you.

"I'm sorry 'bout him," the soft voice apologised. Joel's voice.

You eyed him a little closer.

His shirt was somewhat tight, yet loose enough. It seemed to have a relaxed fit, but his arms and chest were definitely worked out enough to test the stretchiness of the material. It looked comfortable. With his lazy set of dark curls, this man radiated comfort. Even his beard, which he had decided to keep at a length that made it look well-kept, but not too neat, but not completely rugged, added to the softness of his entire appearance.

With a chuckle, you ran a hand through your hair. "It's alright, I- that's how I know him. So it's- you know..."

"You know my brother?"

Brother? Joel? Joel Miller. Tommy Miller's brother. How Tommy having a brother never crossed you, was beyond you. But then again, you literally only knew about the younger Miller brother because of your sister, so no surprise that you had never heard of an older Miller brother before.

"I- well, I wouldn't say 'know'-" you started, but the familiar voice interrupted you once again.

"Oh, come on, Y/N! Don't hurt me like that!"

You swiftly turned your head around to glance at him. "Tommy- we don't know each other that well." Unless you could count the multiple times he had asked you about your sister's well-being in the past, and now present. Or the times he had caught up with you on the street and bombarded you with questions about her.

With a kiss of his tongue, he brushed off your comment. "Don't be like that." He turned his attention to Joel. "You remember Izzy? Back in my High School days. The chick from the restaurant two streets down from our school?"

"Oh, God," the older Miller shook his head as he mumbled. His fingers pressed the bridge of his nose.

"Y/N's her sister," Tommy laughed, mostly to himself. "What are the odds of us meeting here tonight, huh?" He asked into the room, turning back around to the bar, happy about the next round of alcohol. "Joel," the younger Miller nodded towards him. "These are on you." He held up the four beer bottles he carried between his fingers. Not even waiting for an answer, he walked away, getting an annoyed sigh from his brother in return, who switched places with his brother.

Tommy bumped your shoulder. "And you're coming with us. Come on."

After daring to take a quick look behind you, finding Joel handing over the money to Maria and accepting a beer for himself, you followed his brother. The table with his friends seemed to already have been waiting for you as they welcomed you, and the beers, with loud cheers. You joined Tommy on his side of the booth, as the current situation was too uncomfortable for you to sit next to one of his friends. Especially if it was the one that had winked at you before.

"Alright, guys," Tommy's voice brought you back. "This is Y/N," he introduced you before moving on to tell you the name of each man on the table. "And the man of the evening!" He called out, his arm reaching out to the figure that was coming closer to your table. "My brother, the one and only Joel Miller." Looking up, you found him already looking at you again. You quickly diverted your eyes to the dark wood underneath your hands.

"The man of the evening when he didn't even want to be here in the first place?" One of Tommy's friends commented with a scoff. Mike? Yeah, it was Mike.

Joel slit into the other side of the booth, directly opposite of you. You noticed yourself sitting up a little straighter.

"Well, not all of us are thirty and have nothing better to do than to get drunk in the middle of the week," the older Miller replied. He casually sat back, taking a sip from his beer.

Mike chuckled. "Not all of us can't ever leave the house because they had a kid when they were a teenager."

Joel put the beer, taking a deep breath. The sudden change in atmosphere was evident to everyone at the table. Even to you. Well, this was already going great.

Tommy was quick to react. "Hey," he stopped the conversation, "I thought we agreed on no fighting today? Please, guys, come on. Get yourself together."

With your eyes on the oldest Miller brother, you could see his lips moving, mumbling something under his breath that you didn't catch, due to the loud background noises.

"Yeah, no fighting!" Trevor, you thought his name was, called out, raising the already half-empty bottle of beer in his grip. "To Tommy! Welcome home, brother."

Welcome home? Confused, you joined the table, everyone raising their glasses, clinking them all together in the middle.

Once you noticed the other side of the table had fallen into a conversation, you leaned into Tommy on your left.

"Where were you?" Your voice was too low for any of his friends to catch it, but loud enough to get the attention of the older Miller across from you too.

"Because of the 'welcome home'?" The man next to you wondered. You nodded, letting him continue. With a smirk, he put his bottle down. "Your sister didn't tell you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Tommy, she doesn't even know where you are right now, nor does she care. I can guarantee that." A chuckle from ahead of you made your head turn. You could see the smallest glimpse of a grin playing on Joel's lips as he tried to hide it by taking a sip of his beer.

"Wow," Tommy huffed out. "You're really just gonna put more and more salt into that wound, huh?" You ignored his overly dramatic comment, choosing to just continue glancing at him with a somewhat smile on your face, waiting for him to continue. He brushed a hand through his hair before giving you an answer to your question. "I was stationed in Iraq. As of last week, I'm a free man again."

You found your mouth agape. "Oh... oh shit, I had no idea." Your reaction made him chuckle. "Congrats?" Your reaction turned more into a question as you were unsure about what exactly to say to him.

"Thanks, girly," he smiled at you. "Although I am a bit offended that you didn't even notice I've been since graduation."

"Oh, please," you chuckled with a shake of your head. "But," you started again, getting a raise of his brows in return. "Now that I think about it, my mom did ask about you once."

"Really?" His eyes lit up. His reaction reminded you of a little boy being granted three wishes. You almost giggled. "What did she say?"

"Where's Danny Zuko and his entourage?" You smirked up at him. "It was around the time Izzy moved away. That's when she noticed how quiet it was without you guys."

"She called me Danny Zuko?" Tommy smiled to himself, raising one eyebrow as he glanced at you. You could already feel the greasy hand coming up to glide over his hair even before he actually did it.

From across the table, the warm yet rough voice spoke up, "Don't let it get to your head, Tommy." Joel was looking at his brother in slight amusement. You could tell he wanted to shake his head at his actions.

The younger Miller scoffed. "Don't be jealous just 'cause no one's callin' you the hottest man of the seventies." That's because Joel Miller might just be the hottest man of the century.

"Fictional man, though," you corrected him.

He gave you a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. "You bein' a smartass now?" Getting a sarcastic grin from you as an answer.

The conversation with Tommy moved more naturally than you had expected. You had been scared of awkward silences and pauses, but they had yet to happen, and you prayed they wouldn't even get an appearance this evening.

"So," a voice from the other end of the table caught your attention. "what do you do, Y/N? You lookin' a lil' young." Some of the other guys chuckled at his comment. Unessecary, but okay.

Before you could even open your mouth, Tommy spoke. "She ain't that much younger than us, Mike." Just clearing the air - you were thankful for that.

You cleared your throat, your fingers nervously intertwining underneath the table. "I'm in college."

"What are you studyin'?"

"Mathematic."

A scoff erupted from your side of the table, but on the other end, making it impossible for you to see exactly who it was from. "Mathematic? How the hell you gonna pay them bills? Doing fractions?" His rhetorical question got a round of laughter from almost the entire table. The guys continued joking about what you had just told them.

"Subtracting and adding, why the fuck would there even be a course for that?" Well, I bet you can't even calculate the tip you should give waiters.

"Everyone with a degree in math can't be anywhere else but in an office. What a life." A life where they earn more money than you, most likely.

"You also had those smartass kids at school that were good at math for no reason? Always hated them. So annoying, I swear to God." At least I was never crying at the dinner table with my dad trying to explain my homework to me.

You decided to stay quiet and let yourself fall back into the leather cushions behind your back. With a soft sigh, you brought your glass up to your lips, taking two sips of your cocktail. You didn't have the energy nor the need to speak up against them. You didn't know what their occupation was. And neither did you care. You're focused on yourself. You had to listen to far too many joking comments about your choice of degree to give a flying fuck about them anymore.

Your eyes wandered around the room before Joel's voice suddenly brought you back.

"What do you wanna do with that degree?" His question surprised you. Your eyes stopped at his face. Even in the dimlit bar, you could still make out his soft features. His coarse voice sent a chill through your entire body - a good chill though. The kind of chill you get after putting the first foot into a hot bath. That was Joel Miller's voice. Warmth. Pure warmth.

You put your glass down, pressing your lips together for a quick second. Looking up at him, his gaze was already on you, patiently waiting for your answer.

"I- ehm," you wiped your hands down your jeans. They weren't wet, you were just nervous, apparently. "I'm not sure yet. If possible, I would really like to get a Master's in STEM too, but..." you trailed off, not about to spill your entire life story to a, technically, stranger. "We'll see."

Joel nodded. His gaze never left you, following each word that fell from your lips. "And," he continued, "what could you do with a Mathematic degree?"

"Oh, a lot," you spoke up. You could feel yourself sitting up straighter, your hands back on top of the table. "A lot of people become financial advisors for companies. Or statisticians... ehm... I could also obviously become just a Math professor," you shrugged. "Most things are office jobs, though."

Joel had a soft smile on his lips, that only made you feel the heat in your cheeks spreading with each second. You hoped the lack of light in the room hid it well.

While you had added that last comment as a validation of most people's thoughts of the jobs you had mentioned being 'boring', you were surprised by his reply.

"So you'll have an easy life, at least. While also making quite a good amount of money. That's the smartest way to live if you ask me." Exactly.

The older Miller surprised you. He seemed to have taken in everything you had told him, giving you fitting answers. All while the men next to you had moved on to the degree they had claimed as 'useless' - Engish Literature.

"Very smart of you," he added at last. You almost caught yourself giggling as the corners of your lips curled up, your hands still stuck together.

"Thanks," you could only mumble. Get yourself together. Not wanting the conversation to end, you brushed some hair that had fallen into your sight away from your face. "And what do you do? Work wise."

Joel had started picking at the label of his beer bottle, snatching his fingers off it as soon as your question hit his ear.

"I'm a contractor," he told you. Impressive.

You nodded along. "Wow... that's- you know, not an easy job."

He smiled at your comment, ducking his head slightly. You found it almost endearing in a way. "Well," his hand came up to hold onto his neck. "Much easier than studying math, I can tell ya that much."

"No," an awkward chuckle escaped your lips as you crossed your arms on top of the table. "I meant like physically."

To that he tilted his head, nodding slightly in agreement, his hand wrapped perfectly around the beer bottle again. "Guess you're right about that, yeah. I already started praying for my back and knees." He took a sip to end his statement.

You wanted to ask about the kid they had mentioned. God, you were so curious. Something about him seemed so intriguing and you had already figured out that you were most definitely captivated by his warmth. The attention he had praised you with, whether it was out of politeness or not, had only added to your fascination with the man in front of you.

Tommy's loud holler right next to you made your head snap as you found the guys cheering on one of their friends as he held two beer bottles to his lips and tilted his head back to down it all in one go. What an achievement.

In your mind, you shook your head. That New Year's resolution can wait, you decided.

Just as you were about to take another sip of your glass, you noticed the lightness of it, looking down to find it empty already. You couldn't recall ever finishing it, which was already probably not a good sign. Without a word, you got up from your seat, your glass in your grip. You made your way back to the bar, the seat you had occupied earlier was already waiting for you.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maria caught your form coming closer, making her turn towards you, a glass of beer in her hands that she was about to give a waiting guest.

"You want a refill?" She wondered as soon as you had leaned against the counter, sitting yourself down on the wooden barstool.

You shook your head. "No, I'm good for tonight."

"What?" She called out in shock, stopping right in front of you as she took your glass. "Already? Are you okay?" You only nodded. For a second, she let her eyes wander across your face, choosing to refill the cup with water and slide it over back to you. "Drink that, you'll need it."

"Thanks," you mumbled. "But I'm fine, really. Just... tired."

Maria obviously didn't believe you. The time you had spent together let her get to know you better than you had wanted.

"Really just tired?"

You wanted to respond to her and had already opened your mouth, but a deep voice from the backroom that was only accessible from behind the bar called out.

"Maria, get you-!"

"Not now, Steven!" She shouted back, her eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance. You chuckled. Steven... one of the newbies of the bar's staff, but because of his apparently previous work experience as a barista he thought of himself much higher than most of the employees - at least that's what Maria had ranted about after each shift she had with him. With angry steps, he busted through the door, his eyes immediately on your best friend.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His voice was filled with rage, making you sit up just a bit straighter.

But Maria wasn't that easily intimidated, especially not by a man the same height as her and two years younger.

"Helping a customer, you idiot. We're here together, so do your goddamn job and stop hiding in the backroom," she snarled back at him. With a huff and a shake of his head, he turned around towards the two girls who had been waiting by the bar.

"I'm telling you, I'm gonna get fired soon," she mumbled under her breath, but clear enough for you to hear her.

You shook your head in amusement. "You're not gonna quit?"

"I won't have the patience to do that. They'll fire me because I swear to God, I'm so close to fucking beat him up." With a deep breath, she collected herself again and leaned forward, her hands on the bar top. "Now," she looked up at you. "You're tired? Of?" Of course, she knew you weren't actually physically tired.

"Drunk unfunny men," you told her as your eyes followed your fingertips that were tracing each line of the wood underneath your palms.

A whistle sound from somewhere next to you caught both of your attention.

Maria rolled her eyes. "Yeah, tell me about it," before having to leave you to serve the man who had called after her. He was already waiting for her with a smirk on his lips.

You accepted the glass of water she had left with you and downed the entire content of it quickly. Before you could even stand up to finally leave, a figure suddenly appeared to your left and blocked your way. Just as you were about to complain, not in the mood for yet another stupid comment dropping from a man's mouth, you looked up.

Joel again. He noticed your movement.

"Oh- sorry, did you wanna go back?" He motioned with his hand past him and took a step back, but only a small one because of the barstool behind him.

You shook your head with a smile. "Eh- no, no... I-"

"Another one for you?" Maria suddenly appeared again. She pointed at the empty beer bottle Joel had put down. Her eyes quickly raked over both of your faces.

He motioned a polite no to her. "Thank you, but... that's gonna be it for tonight."

"You too?" She wondered, her head nodding towards you. "What's going on with you two? Why so boring today?" A soft smirk had made its way onto her face.

With a confused facial expression, you stared at her.

The older Miller chuckled, "'m sorry. But ehm... I got a lil' girl at home. Promised her not to stay out for too long, so I gotta get back."

Maria took the empty bottle off the counter. "A good dad, I see. I respect that," she nodded.

While she was occupied with some new dirty glasses Steven had placed in front of her, Jeol turned his attention back to you.

"Sorry, what were about to say?" He asked you. "You're gonna go back?" You shook your head again, nervously you had also subconsciously started playing with your fingers again.

"No, I... I think that was enough of Tommy Miller and his friends for me."

"Yeah," he sighed, letting himself sit down on the barstool next to you. "I-" he started again but stopped himself, the tips of his fingers tapping on the wood. His hands were beautiful, you noticed. Strong. Thick-

Maybe it was the three glasses of alcohol you had in your system but you could've sworn Joel Miller was glowing in the dim light of the bar. His skin was radiating gold specs and even his hair seemed to be more than just plain brown. It was deep, auburn and soft. And his curls, good God...

Your heart rate had slightly picked up now that it was only the two of you.

Joel nodded. "I get that. They can be a bit much sometimes. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," you chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, thinking about what to say next.

The silence took over the both of you for a good few seconds. Both pairs of eyes fixed on anything but each other. You took a deep breath, followed by Joel doing the same. Silence can be so unbearable sometimes...

"So," he started again. "You're gonna stay here?"

You gulped. "Y-Yeah, yeah... I... I'm just gonna wait for Maria, we live to-"

"Oh no, girl," your best friend suddenly jumped in. "Tonight's gonna be late. With Steven here, I don't know when I'll be done." She turned to Joel. "My co-worker's an asshole that doesn't know how to do his job, so...," she shrugged.

The oldest Miller chuckled and nodded, amused at her choice of words.

"It's fine, I'll just... wait," you argued, but she was having none of it, waving her hand in front of your face.

"No, no, you should get home. You said you're leaving?" She asked the man next to you, catching him off-guard with her question.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna go now."

"Well, that's convenient. Would you mind... maybe, taking her with you?" Your best friend nudged her head towards you.

"Maria!" You shout-whispered.

But Joel just casually nodded. "Sure." And stood up immediately.

"No," you stopped him. "It's fine, really-"

"Y/N," she interrupted you again, "you really should get home." Maria raised her eyebrows at you. "You got that thing tomorrow."

"What thing?" You asked her with a tight smile on her lips.

"You know... the thing. That you need to be well-rested for."

"Maria-"

"Can I trust that you get her home safe?" She ignored you, turning to Joel. A big grin and awaiting eyes on her face.

He nodded politely. "Yes, ma'am, I promise."

"Ma'am?" She gasped with a smile, "Oh, I trust you a lot." After exchanging looks with the Miller brother, she turned back to you, slapping your hands off the counter with the washcloth she had been holding. "Now get your ass out of the bar."

Your eyes kept following her as she continued to take a step back. Followed by another step. Her hands motioned for you to leave once again, making you shake your head and Joel next to you chuckle.

With a soft sigh, you stood up.

"You good to go?" He asked you, making you look up at him with a somewhat forced smile.

"Yeah."

He opened his palm, letting you walk ahead first. After thanking your best friend for the drinks, he joined your steps but kept walking behind you. You only came to a halt as you passed Tommy's table and only because Joel spoke up. If it had been just you, you would've continued to just pass them, they wouldn't have noticed it anyway.

"We're gonna head out," he told the table, his hand tightly on his brother's shoulder.

"We?" Tommy asked, turning his body just a bit to find you a few steps next to Joel. "You're goin' together?"

"I'm gonna get her home," he nodded.

A round of hollers erupted from the rest of the guys, taking you by surprise. "GET IT, MILLER!"

"Shut the fuck up, Mike," the older Miller was quick to argue back, clearly annoyed by their reaction.

Tommy laughed, "Don't mind him, brother, he's just jealous. Right, Mike?" The rest of the group joined in, starting by teasing and poking their friend, who was the same guy that had raked his eyes up and down your body back when you were still sitting by the bar. Wonderful...

Joel only rolled his eyes. "Anyways, we're goin' now." That made his younger brother suddenly stand up and walk over to you, his arms opened wide. Before you could react, you were engulfed in a tight hug. You were only able to awkwardly pat his back with one hand.

"It was great seeing you again, sweetheart," he let you know, freeing you again, and taking a step back. "Maybe we'll see each other again."

"Yeah," you could only let out an awkward smile, "maybe." With one last pat on your upper arm, he turned to his brother, doing the same thing to his arm before joining the rest of his friend group at the table again.

With no last words, Joel continued his walk straight ahead, coming to another stop right by the door, where the hooks that had been drilled into the walls were holding the outerwear of each visitor.

"You left a coat here or somethin'?" He asked you.

You nodded and pointed. "The beige one on the right."

He got it off the hook for you and opened it for you. Slightly taken aback by his kind gesture, you thanked him with a surprised tone and turned around to get your right arm into the coat first. He helped you with your left arm as well and only turned back to the hangers to get his own jacket. You waited patiently for him before walking over towards the door, pushing it open and holding it, making sure he got through it as well. As soon as the wind of the cold January air outside hit you, you pulled your coat tighter around you, cursing at yourself for not taking a scarf with you as well.

Joel walked past you, putting on his jacket just then. You noticed he was walking towards a specific direction, clearly to where he had parked his car, but you wanted to stop him. So you did.

"You know, you really don't have to." Your voice made him turn around. "I don't know what the hell Maria was talking about. A-And you don't me that well- and I obviously don't know you either. And I totally understand if you just want to get home quickly. You really don't have to bring me home too. I'm fine with just taking the bus-"

Joel couldn't help but be amused at your sudden rambling. He chuckled at you. "The last bus probably already left. And I really don't mind." With a few steps, he came closer, stopping to keep a comfortable distance between the two of you. "Plus," he looked around for a second before locking gazes with you again, "I promised Maria that I'd get you home, so... can't break that, you know?"

For a second you just looked at him. You noticed you were wrong. It wasn't just the dim lighting in the bar. Even with the almost freezing, for Texas, temperatures outside, he still managed to look incredible. His hair still looked as soft as before and his skin was still glistening golden. You knew exactly what Maria had tried to do. She knew it. Joel was the embodiment of your type.

He drove a truck. Of course he did. It fit him perfectly.

The car ride turned out to be less awkward than you had imagined it would be. Thank God. Joel had turned on the radio, giving the entire situation a calming background sound while the two of you talked about your days. He had started it.

Joel asked you about what you were doing in the bar in the first place and how you had known Maria, commenting on your relationship with, 'You two seem very close'. So your story about how you had moved away for college and came back only a few months ago started. He continued to listen to you attentively, nodding along to each word you spoke, giving you a comment here and there, but choosing to stay quiet for most of the time and let you tell your story. After you were finished, another moment of silence washed over you. So you decided to change the subject.

"You said you got a little girl at home?" You remembered the stupid comment one of Tommy's friends had dropped - you had already forgotten his name. And his answer to Maria's question hadn't left your mind ever since it came from his lips.

With your eyes on his side profile, you could see the slight curl of his lips.

"Yeah... I- I got a daughter," he took a deep breath. "Sarah."

You nodded. It warmed your heart the way he started speaking oh so softly.

"How old is she?" You wanted to continue the conversation, noticing the fond look on his face while he was concentrating on the street after you had given him your address, and he told you he knew the way since he had been in that area for work before.

"9. Her birthday‘s in August." You almost chuckled at his added comment, to let you know that her birthday was in the Summer. It was small but sweet.

There was another question burning the tip of your tongue, begging to be let out, but you knew that it was in no way your business to be asking that question. Yet, you were still intrigued about... her mother? As if he could read your mind, Joel continued.

"And I told her I wouldn't stay out too long. It's a school night, so I gotta get her out of bed early in the morning." So...? Single father? No, maybe his partner is on a business trip, who knows...

"Understandable," you nodded, swallowing down the other question and ignoring the voice repeating it inside your head. You couldn't help it. As much as you would've wanted to keep your thoughts sane, it was close to impossible when the man next to you was as attractive as Joel Miller. You had only met him a mere hours ago, yet he was able to captivate you in such a short period. Damn his looks and kind attention when you're speaking.

The rest of the relatively short car ride the two of you spent in mostly silence. Neither one of you wanted to come off as too strong and ask too many questions that might suddenly feel too personal. So you decided to stay quiet. Even though several questions were bubbling up deep inside you - it wasn't much different for Joel.

He brought the car to a halt right in front of your block. You glanced at him.

"Thank you." He was already smiling at you. "You- you really didn't have to, but... thanks."

He nodded, "My pleasure. Better stepping into the car of a stranger than taking a taxi, right?"

"Right," you chuckled, reaching out for the handle to push the door open. With one foot out in the cold again, you turned towards him for one last time. "Good night, Joel."

"Night, Y/N." He copied your sweet goodbye wave after you had closed the door and headed over to the entrance door. Only when you had gotten safe inside the building, Joel started to drive away.

"Stepping into the car of a stranger and a taxi is the same fucking thing, you idiot," he mumbled to himself, shaking his head in disappointment at his own misery. But at least it made you laugh.

You were finished with taking off your make-up and your skincare routine and had switched out your outside clothing for some comfortable pyjama pants and an old shirt you had kept from the musical production your High School had put up. The entire time you had spent in the bathroom, your mind had been anywhere but in the same room as you. You couldn't stop thinking about him. His voice. His side-profile. His lips. His hair- God... his curls. You shouldn't. You knew you shouldn't think of him that much. For fuck's sake, you had only met the man a few hours ago and suddenly he was occupying your mind more than what was then playing on the TV in front of you.

Your eyes switched to the clock Maria had put up on the wall to your left. It didn't fit the rest of the furniture even a bit. But she had found it at a garden sale and got it 'for a good deal', you remember her saying. The place needed a clock though and in that moment, you were thankful that you had one.

11:30 pm here, so 00:30 in the morning in New York.

Knowing your sister, she was probably still up and wouldn't go to sleep until closer to 2, or even past that - that girl needed to figure out her sleep schedule, but that was her worry and not yours. You only benefited from it.

With a big deep breath in, you pushed yourself off the couch and stumped over into the hallway to fish your phone out of your coat's pocket. Maybe she was actually still awake.

You clicked through your address list until your eyes fell on Izzy's number and you pressed to call her. Your feet took your back into the living room, letting you fall onto the cushion again.

It only took a few rings before you heard her voice.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

You chuckled. "Yeah, I am. Hi"

"Hey, how are you?"

After you had gotten through the casual formalities and explained to her what you were doing right now and why you had to call her, you were finally able to drop your first question.

"You remember Tommy Miller?"

A groan from the other line made you giggle. "Oh God... yes, why?"

"Did you know he has a brother?" You wondered.

"Ye-" she gasped, "YES, I do know! Omg yes, of course. Joel, I think his name was."

"Yeah, it is."

"Mm," Izzy hummed. You could hear the smile on her lips through her voice. "He was... Jesus Christ, he was handsome."

You laughed at her reaction. "He still is, to be honest."

"IS HE?!" She almost shouted into the speaker before remembering to keep her voice down as her husband was sleeping only a few rooms away from her.

"Yup, I met him today," you told her.

Another giggle came from her. "Ooooh, how?"

"Tommy was in the bar Maria works at, and he asked me to join him and his friends at a table, and his brother joined in too."

"Aah, okay okay," she nodded her head even though you couldn't see her. "And?"

You sighed, standing up to walk over into the kitchen. "And now I wanted to call you and ask you what you know about him." Your fingers brushed over the counter that desperately needed to be cleaned - you made a mental note.

"To be honest, not that much. He was neither a jock or a nerd or something like that, you know? Just... a guy... a really attractive one though. And he was... I don't know, like... two... three years above me, I think?" You listened to her talk while your eyes raked over the pantry, hoping to find something to snack on before you'd go to bed.

"OH-" She suddenly raised her voice, making you have to pull your phone away from your ear. "He was also a singer." Well, that caught your attention.

"A singer?"

"Yeah," she giggled. "Like a really good one, actually. That's why a lot of girls liked him. He played something on his guitar during one of our musicals. I don't remember which one, though." A singer...

"Interesting," you smirked to yourself at the new information. Plus the fact that you had found the last bits of your favourite chips package in the very back of the pantry.

She hummed in agreement. You could hear shuffling in the background but ignored it. "And," Izzy started again. "There was a rumour about him, but... I don't know if that's true."

"What rumour?"

"Apparently," she made sure to use a different tone with the first word, letting you know that it truly was only a rumour she had been confronted with. "Later in college, he got his high school sweetheart pregnant. When they were like 19 or 20. And that's why she dropped out. But I don't know how true that is."

'Not all of us can't ever leave the house because they had a kid when they were a teenager', you remembered the comment that came from one of Tommy's friends.

If he was two or three years older than your sister... and his daughter is 9...

A rumour... possibly not so much.

"Yeah, I don't think that's a rumour."

"What?!" She gasped. "Seriously?!"

Back on the sofa, you put your hand into the pack of chips and took one out to put into your mouth. "He told me about his daughter. She's nine, so that would work if he had her around 20."

"I don't know, that's too much math for me, but if you say so, I believe you," she rambled before taking a deep breath again. "Wow... I never believed that. He didn't seem like the guy something like that would happen to... especially not in Texas, Jesus... But wait..."

"What?" You wondered with a full mouth after deciding that instead of one, five chips at once sounded much better.

"So, did he really leave his girlfriend, though?"

"Huh?" You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion.

"Some people back then said that they broke up after finding out she was pregnant. Is that true?"

You waited for a second. "Ehm... I don't know, maybe. But the daughter's with him."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah," you swallowed down the content in your mouth before taking two chips again. "He said he'll have to wake her up in the morning because of school."

"Aww," Izzy giggled, "That's cute. Didn't think he'd keep her. Where's the mom then?"

"You know, I originally wanted to ask you all of those questions," you chuckled at the situation, your sister joining in.

"Sorry, I don't remember much else. Like I said, he was older than us, so... yeah." A moment of silence divided you two, only shuffling on her side and crunches from your side filled the phone line. Izzy was the first to break it. "But... do you remember Abigail? I think she had like History with him... I could ask her if you want."

"No," you brushed off her question, "it's not THAT important. I just... wanted to see what you'd know about him."

"Mm," a somewhat sad hum came from her. "A bit nosey, are you?"

You chuckled, "I mean," feeling your cheeks getting slightly warmer than before, "he IS really handsome. And he was really... attentive at the bar."

"You don't care about the age?" She wondered.

You scrunched your eyebrows, deciding you had enough of the chips you remembered to be much better than they actually were. "He's only like 31. That's not that much older."

"Maybe not in your eyes."

"And why would I care about anyone else's?" You asked her, throwing the colourful package onto the coffee table in front of you. "And even- I just- I only wanted to know a few things about him. I don't even know if I, you know... want something from him. Maybe he's got a new girlfriend right now, who knows."

"Okay, but I'm not saying you should throw yourself at him, you idiot," your sister chuckled. "Just... kinda like tiptoe towards him and see where things go. You're pretty, he's handsome, from what I can remember, so it can't hurt."

"Yeah... we'll see... It's very unlikely that I'll ever see him again even-" you stopped yourself for a second before mumbling, "Maybe in the bar again, actually... I don't know."

The next words of your sister went past your attention span as the front door opened. You shot up from your spot in the living room and walked over into the hallway, an already smirking Maria glancing right at you.

"Y/N?" Izzy's voice repeated your name a second time before you caught it.

"Yeah? Sorry, what did you say?" you apologised, motioning frantically for your best friend to take off her shoes and sit down on the couch.

Your sister chortled softly on the other end of the line. "It's alright. I just said I gotta go. I gotta get up earlier than usual tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," you pulled your friend by her arm just as she tried to escape into her room. "Thank you for the info, and I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"Alright, bye," she sang into the phone.

"Bye," you quickly ended the call, flipping your phone closed and throwing it onto one of the cushions.

Maria fell onto the couch with a giggle.

"What the fuck was that?" You snapped at her. "Yeah, it's really late, Maria, you were right."You looked down at your imaginary watch on your wrist before staring at her with raised eyebrows. "It was very necessary that Joel drove me home."

"You are very welcome," she leaned back into the backrest with a smug smile on her lips. "How was the drive?"

"How was-?! How do you think it was?!" You continued to stand right in front of her, arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Honestly," she started with a deep breath, taking the pack of chips from the coffee table into her grip, "going off of the looks you two gave each other, I'm gonna be very surprised if you tell you you didn't do it on the backseat of his car."

You closed your eyes for a moment and pressed your lips together, trying to hold back a burst of laughter that was about to spill. After finding her gaze again, you answered her. "We didn't do it on the backseat of his car."

"What?!" She shouted out. "Are you kiddin' me?! That's disappointing." And shook her head before popping a chip into her mouth.

With a shake of your own head, you made yourself comfortable on one of the single chairs you had placed right next to the sofa.

"I swear to God, that man was eye-fucking you."

"Jesus," you chuckled, a hand brushing over your face and rubbing your eyes.

"No, really. I mean, he was doing it respectfully, which kinda confused me, not gonna lie. But he still looked at you a little too hot and bothered. And girl," her smirk only grew when she eyed you closely, "I thought you were about to lick his skin the way you were looking at him."

You couldn't hold back your laughter any longer. With a loud chortle, you leaned forward, hiding your face behind your hands. Maria joined you.

"I'm serious!" She laughed out loud.

You looked up at her. Your face now clear red as you realised you got caught, "I mean... I wanted to."

"I knew it!" She jumped up, throwing the package of chips into your lap. "I knew it! You ain't sly, girly!"

For a few moments longer, the two of you shared rounds of giggles before you could catch yourself again and sat back down normally.

"Yeah, well..." you shrugged, brushing some hair out of your face.

Maria snatched the chips package back again. "Then why not in his car?"

"Ths situation wasn't like that. We... we talked. I honestly didn't think that he was even looking at me the way you just described it," chuckling again at the memory of the words she had chosen.

"Yeah, well... I've seen enough men at bars and how they look at women, so... yeah," she shook her head slightly. "He did it exactly like that, just, like I said, with... a little bit more respect- I don't know how to explain it."

"It's okay," you giggled, stopping her by showing her the palm of your hand.

After she finished the rest of the chips, she threw the now empty package next to her onto the sofa, the thought of the last bits of crumbles possibly falling between the seat cushions made you shiver.

"So, how was the drive? Seriously."

You shrugged. "It was good. We had a nice conversation. I talked about college, he talked about his daughter-"

"Listen, I'm not one for dads. But..."

"Hot." You ended the sentence for her.

"So hot," she agreed with you, biting down on her lip. "He really is quite attractive."

You nodded along with her before speaking up again, "I called my sister just now," nudging your head towards the flip phone you had thrown onto the couch. "And asked her about him because they went to school together-"

"And?"

"Not much else. She doesn't really know a lot about him. Just that he used to sing apparently, and... he's a young dad."

"What about the mother of the kid?"

You could only shrug again. "No clue. Izzy said that the rumour is- or, there was a rumour that he left the girl that he got pregnant in college. BUT... he said that he needs to get up early because of her school tomorrow... so, I'm confused."

"Maybe... he got another kid? So not the kid from the pregnant High School girl, but from someone a little later?" She wondered out loud.

No, you had done the math correctly. "Very unlikely. Because Izzy's 27 now. And she said Joel was about two or three years above her, which would make him around 30 now. And in the car, he told me that his daughter is turning 10 this year. If we're going just by estimations, it would work that he had her around 20 and not going to college because of it. I doubt that he left his high school sweetheart that he got pregnant at 20, only to keep the kid he got from another woman when he was 21. I mean- everything's possible, but I doubt it."

Maria blinked at you. Twice. "You're confusing me with your calculations, but damn... you really thought a lot about that, huh?"

You let your head fall back with a chuckle. "I had some time, yeah." Then a groan echoed through the room. "Ugh, but I don't even know if or when I'd be able to see him again."

"But you know Tommy, maybe he can help," Maria tried to explain, but you glared at her with an unamused facial expression.

"I'm not gonna ask him to tell me where his brother is or to give me his number, Maria."

She looked at you with a somewhat surprised look, before standing up and raising her hands in defence. "I'm just trying to help you here, okay?"

"Yeah I know, but he could also be in a relationship for all we know."

"Not with the way-"

"He was looking at me, I know, I know, blah blah blah-" A sudden cushion that was thrown at your face made you shut your mouth. You were about to argue back, but Maria beat you to it, pointing a strict finger at you, while her other hand had made a ball out of the chips package.

"Don't 'blah blah blah' me."

You chuckled at her reaction. She scoffed as she turned towards the kitchen.

Just as you thought the conversation was over and she was on her way out, she stopped to take a quick look at you.

"I think that if he was a real gentleman and if the looks he gave you were real, he'll find a way to contact you. It's a small town, it can't be that hard." With her last statement, she exited the room, leaving you sunken into the armchair.

If, if, if...

What if you could find a way to contact him?

Part 2

joel taglist: @corvusmorte @aniia-x3

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask

#Joel miller x reader #Joel miller #hbo!joel miller #tlou #the last of us #Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal!joe miller #x reader #fluff #finding something to fight for #Tommy miller #hbo!tlou #Pedro pascal x reader #pre!outbreak joel

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joelsmochi · 7 months

Text

Us Against the World

A/N: How easy is it to come back after a 4 month (unplanned) hiatus? Not easy. At all. Sorry for my absence darlings, a lot has been going on from moving to health issues to new jobs… It’s been so hectic that I am willing to admit that this piece of garbage was also being worked on over the entire 4 months I hadn’t posted. This was all I could conjure up, but I wanted to polish this off so I could move onto the next project, so I also apologize for how rushed this one kind of ends + it doesn’t have the same lighthearted tone as the first 2 parts. Regardless I hope you enjoy reading (don’t judge it too critically… I’m begging.) Also I think when I pasted this it got rid of my italicized and bolded words -.- (i am serious about italics)

warnings: 18+, kinda mean!jealous!insecure!joel, cclg/ddlg [attitude] dynamic, punishment (but it’s really a reward ;]), angst, more panty kink, some useless scenes, chance of getting caught, a little sadness and a bit cheesy, lazily proofread so expect grammar issues + typos!, i don’t wanna spoil so it ends there byeee (let me know if i missed any please!)

wc: 10k (will the length make up for how bad it is? no? ok >.<)

Read part 1 here, and part 2 here.

The bar was filled with laughter and short applause from people winning their games. It smelled slightly of stale alcohol and oak wood.

You had just walked in with Joel behind you. As you were taking in your surroundings, Joel had already seen a guy or two look you up and down. He chose not to say anything. They weren’t worth the trouble.

You both sat at the bar and ordered two beers though you weren’t necessarily trying to getting drunk tonight. You just wanted to keep your promise of making him jealous.

He didn’t think you’d actually go through with it, but when he saw your eyes go from your fresh drink to scanning the men around the bar he knew he was in for a real treat.

“You’re serious ‘bout this?” He rhetorically asked.

You only gave him part of a smile and a shrug to say and what if I am?

He half rolled his eyes and sipped his beer, immediately grimacing at its subpar taste.

“Fine. Do whateeeeever you want, little girl. Just like you always do,” he said. “Gon’ and dance for other guys. I don’t give a damn.”

You glared at him when he called you a little girl, keening a dark chuckle from him. He was poking the bear inside you, waiting for the moment you would choose to give up on your cunning idea.

You stood up out of spite and slowly walked over to a man roughly your age, clad in some lousy outfit that somehow made him stand out to you.

The teasing smirk Joel was wearing replaced itself with a scowl. You swore you felt him shooting daggers into your back as you whispered in the younger man’s ear.

“Wanna dance?”

The boy looked at you with excitement and surprise, bashfully nodding and following you when you pulled him next to the other dancing couples.

You pressed your back into his and looked everywhere except for where Joel was sitting, swaying your hips in sync with your dance partner and occasionally pressing back into his crotch gently.

Joel stared long and hard at the boy who was just using the curve of your ass to jerk off, yet when his eyes wandered to you, all he could do was think about using you like that, only with fewer clothes on.

The song ended and Joel thought it would be the end of your shenanigans; he watched as you whispered in the young man’s ear again, and once you pulled away he motioned for his friend to come over.

Another young man approached the front of you, and you gave him a flirty smile as your arms linked around his neck.

Joel was gritting his teeth so hard he was sure he heard one crack. He wanted to keep his cool, not give you the satisfaction, but watching you dance for men that were your age when he was already insecure about being thirteen years older than you pissed him off.

He knew you were just having fun, but fucking hell.

He hated seeing those idiots practically fucking hump you in the middle of the bar. They were feral and inadequate compared to Joel who knew they could never take care of you the way you needed to be taken care of.

Joel had about enough when the boy in front of you began slipping his thumbs underneath your baby tee and saw how it made you tense up so he reached in his wallet for cash to pay for the drinks. Then, he stomped over you and grabbed your arm, snatching your body from between the two men.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” Joel growled at them before pulling you behind him. He felt you resisting his grip after entering the parking lot so he grabbed your hips and picked you up. He sat you in the passenger seat then got in himself, driving back home without saying a word.

You knew you were in for it.

Once you two made it to his place you were trying to get Joel to speak to you. He just gave you a hard look and tossed you over his shoulder without further resistance; he carried you to his bedroom, sat down, and forced you to bend over in his lap.

“I’m sorry, Jo—ow!”

He had landed a firm slap across the back of your thigh and then broke the zipper on your shorts from yanking them down. Your hips ached from the waistband digging into your bones. You tried wiggling from his grasp causing him to grab a fistful of your hair and yank it back.

He smoothed a hand over the peaks of your ass for a few seconds, not wanting to hurt his precious girl.

But then he remembered how you left him without a care in the world just to spite him.

He gave you another spank that burned furiously against your flesh and forced a cry out of your throat.

“I’ll never do it again,” you pleaded, “I swear! Joel—“

Another smack.

“Fuckin’ damn right, you won’t,” he grunted, watching your ass color red. “You wanna fuck some dumb college boy, huh?”

You whimpered and waved your feet around desperately.

Smack! “Answer me when I ask you a question. Do you wanna fuck people your own fucking age?”

You shook your head frighteningly fast, waving your feet around more as if it would get him to release your hair but his grip only tightened. “No, Joel! I only want you—just you. Please, Joel, I’m sorry.”

He tugged at your panties, not too harshly, just gently enough to create a wedge between your cheeks. You were thankful he didn’t notice your eyes roll back and the soft moan that left you from the friction against your throbbing clit and asshole.

“My ol’ ass not enough for you? S’that it?” He whispered in your ear.

“Of course not—“

He popped you again from your words before pulling your panties up again, hating how you said it like it should have been obvious.

He watched you grind into the taut cloth, humping his knee. Although it was a subconscious movement from your body it didn’t stop him from letting out a humorous laugh.

“So fucking needy, ain’t ya?” He cooed, releasing the fabric and trailing a thick finger down the wet spot in your panties. “M’over here punishin’ you and you’re fucking my leg.”

“M’sorry,” you mumbled.

“You like it when I spank you?” He cooed in your ear; you nodded and he chuckled softly, tickling the hairs along your neck. “Yeah?”

“I like it when—… When you pull my panties,” you bashfully admit. “Feels good.”

He slowly let your hair go and cradled your jaw softly to keep your head up. With a smirk, he toyed with the linings of your panties. “You like when I hurt that pretty little ass a’yours?”

You hummed, taking one of his fingers in your mouth. He circled the pad of his middle finger around the rim of your clothed asshole, letting out a hum or a chuckle every time he felt it pulse.

“You’re gonna be good from now on, girl?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered against his fingers, spit drooling into his palm.

“Good,” he hummed softly, “good.”

“Can you,” you paused, unsure of why you were still acting shy. “Can you please pull my panties again?”

He happily obliged, starting a little gentler this time. He watched the shadow of your face contort with pleasure while you moaned softly, grinding your clit into his knee some more.

He watched one of your swollen pussy lips escape from the constriction so he pulled them some more to make the other lip appear.

You moaned at the thin fabric being engulfed by your cunt, clenching so more of your juices oozed out.

You felt his finger gently slip beneath the fabric to rub your wet entrance. You exhaled at his long finger slipping inside of you, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your asshole to circle it briefly.

He removed his finger and snuggled your panties up more. The friction stung your skin deliciously. He landed a smack on your ass cheek with the noise piercing your ears; you yelped and flinched, seductively laughing afterward.

Joel noticed the outline of his hand appearing along your flesh, red and bruised. He kneaded it with his palm and told you to bend over the edge of his bed. Once you were on your stomach again you felt him pull your shorts off of you completely, then your panties. His hands warmed over your thighs, grazing your ass and touching your lower back. He pressed his thumbs in slightly to massage you there for a few seconds before he slid his hands back down again to spread your ass.

You held your lip between your teeth throughout his touches, not wanting to make any noises in case he wanted you quiet.

The cool arousal leaving your body dripped down to your clit almost making you flinch from the temperature difference. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, seeking his fingers or his tongue or his cock — anything. His laugh was taunting and raspy, seeing how desperate you were for him.

"Such a needy girl, hmm?" He took a deep breath leaning into your flesh; his tongue scooped up your juices from your clit to your ass in one long, heavy lick. You gasped, surprised by the sudden contact. You were left disappointed when he didn’t continue lapping at you, but a rush of joy ran through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling behind you.

He heard your simpering little giggle, smiling at how cute it sounded but still popping your right ass cheek where you had begun to bruise. You hissed, chewing on your lip while he undressed from the waist down.

He teased his length along your slit, spreading your wetness upwards and slapping his fat tip roughly against the tight ring of muscle.

And it fucking hurt, more than you were expecting, but judging by Joel’s chuckle he already knew it would.

You understood his need to humiliate you. That was the whole reason for doing what you did. You wanted him to have his way with you just as you had a few nights ago.

But you hurt his feelings more than you expected to and much more than he would like to admit.

He slapped your puckering hole even harder to elicit a response from you, satisfied when you groaned his name.

“Joooel, that hurts.”

He lined up with your pussy, not quite touching you yet. His only response was, “Good,” before shoving his thick cock inside of you.

You screamed at him tearing your walls apart with cruelty, clenching furiously around him to try and adjust quicker.

But he wouldn’t let you.

He pulled out of you to watch your muscles flex for a second, then rammed back inside of you; he stayed as deep as he could.

After ensuring your stomach would remain glued to the bed his lips pressed a wet kiss to the rim of your ear. He listened to your soft cries, feeling your hips wriggle beneath him.

“You gonna be good for me?” He asked again.

You panted with annoyance and told him, “If you fucking ease up on me.”

It was an absentminded comment with consequences you’d be dealing with for days. Joel just clicked his tongue at you and dug his hips into your flesh deeper. His cockhead nudged your cervix serving up a mixture of pain and pleasure throughout your stomach.

He didn’t want to be too mean, however, so he pulled back and pushed his weight into your lower back from his palms. Your stomach being smooshed into the bed made the impacts of his thrusts feel deeper than they were.

Your precum enthusiastically coated his shaft, lubing your entrance as he rammed into you. Your voice was breathy as you spoke.

“Joel—th-that feels… That feels good.” Your eyelids hung low creating a blurry line of vision, head bobbing from his stuttering hips.

“You like getting fucked like a slut?” He spat to which you confirmed. “S’that why you act like one?”

You admitted your faults, not wanting him to ease up on you.

“You wanna fucking dance on someone again?”

You didn’t respond, too immersed in how good he was touching you.

He grunted, pulling out of you leaving strings of your precum mixed with his hanging; he flipped you around and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, using his other hand to hold you at the base of your spine. He lifted you off of the bed, making you yelp.

Once he got into a comfortable position he removed his hand from your neck, showing you how strong he was being able to hold you up on his own. Your legs looped around his waist as he stood tall, your hands clinging to the broad peaks of his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he whispered; not wanting to be scolded again you lazily obliged. He laughed like a bully at your worn-out expression. “You’re so pretty like this, already fucked out like you can’t handle it.”

“Too much,” you complained against his lips in a short breath.

His hips snapped into yours, jolting your eyes wide open. “I don’t care. You wanted to act like a slut, so you’re gonna have to get fucked like one.”

“Joel—“

He shut you up by shoving his free fingers into your mouth, while the nails of his other hand dug into your back.

He didn’t want to hear your apologies anymore, or your complaints. He wanted you to shut up and take it, like a good fucking girl.

He saw the hindrance of innocence in your eyes that tried to beckon his forgiveness. He ignored it, meeting you with a punishing frown. The heavyweight stare riddled your nerves with anxiety — you didn’t want to disappoint him again.

He ravaged your attitude, breaking you down until he got his way with you just like you had all this time.

“You gonna be a good girl?” He asked again, shoving his fingers further back. You hummed into his hand and nodded, eyes as wide as saucers. He gasped when you twirled your tongue around his digits, slurping up the taste of his flesh. “You like that?”

“Mmhmmm.”

He experimented by pushing his fingers deeper, hitting the back of your throat; you gagged and coughed, but bit down on his knuckles so that he wouldn’t take them out.

His thrusts slowed because he was too focused on feeling your throat, something that felt entirely different against his fingers versus his cock.

Seeking his approval, you took this as an opportunity to fuck yourself on him. With your shaky fingers pressing into his shoulder blades you lifted you rocked your hips up and down, clenching around his length often.

“Look at’cha… You need to cum baby?” His fingers left your mouth indicating he wanted a verbal response.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good for you.”

“You’ll be good?”

“Yes. Fuck—yes. I’ll be so good for you, Joel. I promise. I’ll be a good girl for you.”

He moaned at your cunt gripping him, smiling at how you humped him. You couldn’t hide your deprivation from him any longer, but he wanted you to earn it.

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he instructed, smirking when you did so immediately. He gripped your ass with both of his wide hands to steady you. “Yeah, there you go. S’pretty like this…”

Your hair was glued to the sweat on your face and your eyes were low with a wave of tears waiting to spill onto your cheeks. Your teeth waned behind your red lips as you gurgled from choking on your saliva.

“You’re so pretty for me, princess,” he cooed; despite the softness in his voice, his tone was still suggestive of his anger.

He was on the verge of forgiving you, but he still wasn’t quite there yet.

Your arms and core were growing weaker the harder you worked your body on his, but you were so determined to cum — and to do it on his command.

“Tell me how pretty you are,” he said with a devilish grin widening.

You were a little lost — what exactly did he want?

“Hmm?” You hummed, unintentionally slowing down.

“Tell me… How pretty you are,” he said again.

“Um…” Your mind was blank, God, Joel could really fuck you stupid, couldn’t he? “I’m—I’m so pretty,” you whispered.

You couldn’t think of what to say.

Maybe if I compliment myself the way Joel does…

“You like how pretty I am for you?” You asked. “All fucked out from your cock?”

His eyes rolled shut as he let out an obscenely long groan.

He liked that, you thought.

“I look so pretty with your cock stretching me out, don’t I? Hmm, yes, fuck—ah! You make me so pretty when you let me fuck myself on you, Joel—gah! Do you—fuck. Do you wanna see how pretty I am when I cum like this?”

His eyes shot open at the proposal, the only words his mind was able to compute being, “Yes, princess. Yes, yes, cum for me—mnh, God. You feel so fucking good.”

His words were encouraging enough to keep you going, long enough to light that fire that tickled you red.

“Show me how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum for me, baby.”

Your ass stung from him squeezing where his punishment landed, adding fuel to your rising orgasm.

He saw it spread across your precious body: your eyes wavering between open and close, your mouth pouting with his name leaving your tight throat, your nipples peaking, goosebumps flaring across your entire body.

You were flushed red and heaving and Joel couldn’t look away. You looked so ethereal, wrapping your fluttering pussy around the base of his dick and grinding in circular motions.

Pins and needles poked your arms from holding your weight, but the climax felt too good to let up so soon. You were sensitive, knotty, and engulfed in the stillness you were finally able to have.

“My pretty girl,” Joel whispered sweetly.

You opened your lazy eyes, giving him a soft smile. “Show me how pretty you are when you cum,” you said against his lips.

He took a moment to catch his breath before propping his arms underneath your thighs one by one. Your body thanked you for the relief.

Your cunt squelched cum onto his balls while the air thickened with the aroma of sex and sweat.

So sleepy, you felt as he continued to drive his hips into you, but he was so handsome in the low light of the moon. You felt your soul tie to his own, blending your orgasm into admiration for the man.

This was anything but the casual agreement you two had come to weeks ago, but fuck was it well worth it. His jealousy was a sign of a weakness he only possessed when it came to you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he whispered with need. You wrapped your hands around his jawline and pressed his lips against yours.

The slip of your tongue against his was nasty. It was fucking filthy. You licked each other anywhere you could reach, coating one another in saliva as if to mark your territories.

Joel whimpered against your lips, admitting his arrival in the middle of the kiss. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I—…”

His mouth parted as he brought you impossibly close to his body, and he felt a knee nearly give out from the intensity of his orgasm. He drifted his body to the floor so he could sit on his knees, not wanting to drop you.

His thrusts were small and deep as he continued ruining your sore walls with his ropes of cum.

Still entangled in a series of kisses, they simmered to a savory pace. You tasted each other and relished in the filthy mix of bodily fluids.

You’d never been so sweaty from sex in your life yet it felt so fucking amazing.

He pumped you so full of cum that even with his cock plugging you a little bit of it managed to leak out. You both smiled at the feeling and broke away from each other's lips.

With your head tossed back on the edge of his bed and his head resting on your chest, you just sat there in silence.

His hands gloss over your back and your fingers stroking the wet curls on his head. You wanted to stay here forever, clinging to him like a bear to a tree.

He pressed a kiss onto your collarbone before raising his head to look at you.

“You hungry?” He asked.

“Mm-hmm,” you moaned shut-eyed, obviously very tired from sex. He grunted from standing up again and laid you in the cold bed before grabbing your panties and slipping them back up your legs. You finished it for him, making sure they were snug against your entrance to keep the cum from spilling out too much.

“I’ll go get some takeout, princess.”

You hummed with a small smile at his new nickname for you, feeling him press a kiss to your temple before you fell into a deep slumber.

“What are you doin’?” Joel yawned as he entered the kitchen.

“I am making us eggs and only eggs because you have a poor selection of breakfast foods.”

He snickered, closing the space between you and wrapping his warm arms around your waist. “Well, thank you, princess,” he mumbled against the curve of your neck.

His fingers slipped beneath the shirt you borrowed from him and found the hem of your panties. You didn’t allow his hands to distract you as you spread the fluffy eggs out over two plates.

“I guess this…” His fingers slipped inside of your partially wet cunt, curling just the way you like. “…is my breakfast.”

You shivered as goosebumps poked your skin from the motion of his hand, and you smirked to yourself when his other hand tugged at your panties. Once they hit the ground he bent you over slightly to pull his cock out, gliding it along your slit to tease you. You turned the stove off and gripped the counter, careful to not burn yourself.

Not even a moment later you felt his velvety cock smack against the peak of your ass, and you moaned at how warm he felt against your cold flesh.

“Joel,” you exhaled. “You’re fucking ruining me.”

“Y’say it like it’s a bad thing,” he grunted whilst sliding inside of you.

You moaned, eyes closing softly. “Not at all.”

He rolled his hips slowly, careful not to break you any more than he did just the night before. His hot breath filled your ears with decadent compliments about how good you were for him and how much he wanted to show his appreciation.

Joel fought a moan every time he saw your eyelashes flutter shut and heard you sharply inhale between gritted teeth. His confession of admiration seemed to hold more weight than before. That knot inside of you gushes at his rasps of affection, pushing you toward the edge.

You focused on how he felt, every little thing he was doing: his left hand held you steady at your hip while his right stroked your hair calmly as if you were his new pet kitten. His hips curled into the shape of you as if his body was planting kisses anywhere you managed to still be bruised from his punishments. His thighs trembled against the back of your stiff legs, urging you to let go whenever you were ready, not quite rushing you.

His voice was staggering and cracking, the words I love you straining against his throat from him suffocating it with praises instead.

You knew all of the you’re doing so good f’me’s and you sound so beautiful’s and you look so pretty with my cock inside of you’s were just invulnerably hidden I love you’s, but it didn’t bother you.

You understood what he truly meant and that’s all you needed for now.

His lovely teeth nibbled into the valley of your ear earning a giggle from you; you were so close—so fucking close. You needed more.

You tried rubbing your swollen and throbbing clit yourself but it wasn’t enough. Joel’s need to take care of you radiated from the heat of his body and you craved more of his touch; you moved his hand from your hip to your stiff bud, guiding his fingers to perform the way you sought.

His fingers were strong and thick and just what you needed to overflow, clawing at his bicep, leaning your head back to rest upon his shoulder.

It felt so good to be held by him. A longing that burrowed itself into your soul resurfaced. Ready to be fulfilled by him.

His words turned into simpering little mewls of yes’s and cum for me’s as you clenched around him.

He knew you were just barely there and he was adamant on not changing his pace or patterns if it meant he could watch you crumble.

Joel’s right hand left your hair and held your agape jaw to keep your head from bobbing too much after one of your legs buckled and your grip around his muscles tightened. He increased the force of his thrusts emphasizing the sound of his hips clapping against your heated skin.

His body was aching from the lack of rest but every moan you let out was so soft and subtle that it motivated him to continue.

Your breathing was shallow, filled with whimpers since he wouldn’t ease up on your sore cunt, but you loved it. Your body craved the sin of secrecy that had Joel’s name written all over it.

All the sneaking around, lying, and pretending you two are nothing more than long-time neighbors made all of this worth it. The games. Chasing each other. Waiting days—if not weeks just for a kiss was the thrill of it all.

Deep down you knew it couldn’t last forever; it’d either have to come out or come to an end. But couldn’t you live in the fantasy just for a little while,

moaning Joel’s name a little longer,

feeling the thick cum etched between your bodies,

feeling him stiffen up or jolt whenever your breath hit his sensitive ears,

laughing every time he accidentally slipped out,

getting so carried away that you couldn’t hear anything else…

…Like the garage door opening.

“Oh! Shit!”

You and Joel immediately pulled away, shocked by the sudden boom of Tommy’s voice; with trembling legs, you struggled your underwear back up while Joel tried to tuck in what refused to be hidden.

“Sorry, guys, I didn’t…” Tommy’s voice trailed off as he looked over and realized it was… You?

Wearing one of Joel’s big t-shirts and some rainbow-striped socks, Tommy said your name as if he couldn’t believe it was you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out.

“Jesus, Tommy. Quit lookin’ at her like that,” Joel complained while ushering Tommy into the next room.

“Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat.” Joel briefly looked back at you with those puppy eyes of his and asked if you were okay. You could only give him a tense nod in response.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in before looking at the plate of now-cold eggs.

Embarrassed wasn’t even the word. Distress curled around every crevice in the pit of your stomach making you feel nauseous.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, regaining enough composure to grab two forks from the utensils drawer and take them out to the living room where the two men sat and spoke.

“Here you go, Tommy,” you said sheepishly while trying to pretend that you weren’t avoiding eye contact. Turning to Joel you said, “I’m gonna head home.”

“You don’t have to leave ‘cus I’m here,” Tommy said, his apologetic tone emphasizing his indication. “I didn’t mean to impose or nothin’, it was… Just a surprise.”

“I gotta go shower and change my clothes anyways, so, uh…”

“Here, I’ll go help you get your things. I’ll be right back Tommy,” Joel said. You both walked up to Joel’s cluttered room where he shut the door softly and then apologized. “I forgot we picked up a job for today,” he explained.

“Well, I have been told I’m a pretty good distraction,” you teased, fumbling with last night’s clothes. He chuckled and watched as you got dressed, asking himself how it got to this point. “I probably can’t do anything until Sunday. My dad wants to take me to this new movie tomorrow, and then some event thingy Saturday.”

“Sunday, that’s…” Joel’s voice trailed off while he pretended to think about something.

You scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before hitting his arm with his t-shirt. He caught hold of it and used it to bring you closer, the grin of a jester playing on his face.

“I’m kiddin’, princess. I know it’s your birthday,” he cooed against your lips. His kiss embraced your laughter and made him smile again, but this time much more humbly. “I got you a present—but if I give it t’ya now I’ll be empty-handed in two days.”

You cocked an eyebrow up and stared at his lips causing him to vapidly blush. “You won’t be empty-handed,” you whispered. You held his hand in yours and brought it next to your face.

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm, ‘cus I’ll make sure to keep both’a your hands busy,” you teased.

He watched carefully as you brought his index finger to your drooling mouth and took it in slowly. You somewhat forced his finger down your throat pretending it was his cock. You choked on the thick digit and pouted at him with your eyes.

He gasped at the textures of your narrow throat, frowning in a way that let you you’ve ignited something in him. He fought his moans harder than he ever needed to before, staring at you gag and slurp and slobber around his finger.

You curled your tongue against the webbing of his fingers and licked all of the excess spit up into your mouth with a swift bob of your head.

This made him bite his lip to shut himself up; you decided to not bully the poor man any longer and released his hand, smirking.

“You’re gonna regret that Sunday, princess. I’ll tell you that right now,” he threatened, however, his tone was full of defeat and his voice sounded higher from the strain of silencing moans.

“What are ya gonna do about it, old man?” You teased before walking out of his room.

Your birthday was more fun than you were expecting, more than enough people showed up (granted more than half of them were your dad’s friends), and you spent more time being the photographer than the center of attention.

Joel and Tommy showed up fashionably late (you’ve chosen to believe Joel’s watch is set two hours back). Meanwhile, their arrival earned a few giggles and stares from your high school friends.

They tried to talk to you about how much hotter Joel and Tommy had gotten while you pretended not to feel the pang of jealousy in your chest whenever they gawked at Joel a little too long.

They asked if you two had hooked up since being back and the only lie you managed to conjure was, “Joel’s either always at work or with my dad, so… I haven’t really been able to try.”

“Wait, does your dad know you two used to hook up?” One of your friends, Bri asked.

Right now you were really regretting telling all those lies…

“No,” you said almost too enthusiastically, “and I plan on keepin’ it that way. Not worth the trouble.”

“Well, if Joel’s not worth the trouble to you then you wouldn’t mind if I gave it a shot, would ya?”

You resisted rolling your eyes, wavering the drink in your hand around and mumbling, “Go ahead.”

“Hey,” another friend said after tapping you on your extended arm, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea. Joel’s just one guy.” She must have noticed the defeat in your eyes.

Maybe to you, you thought.

Before you could respond Bri was sitting back down at your patio table with an embarrassed pout on her face, and for some reason, you were surprised rather than happy (okay, you were a little happy).

“What happened?” You asked.

“He said he’s seeing someone else,” she scoffed. “Do you know if he even likes blondes? Because I can always dye my hair darker.”

You chuckled, “I don’t think he has a preference.”

The rest of them changed subjects so when your eyes went searching for Joel, you found him standing next to your dad at the grill where he was already looking at you wearing a smile. You smiled at him and then turned your focus back to your friends for the remainder of the afternoon.

Once your friends had left for the night and your dad ended up in a game of dice with his buddies, you realized you needed some time to decompress from all the socializing.

Your dad insisted on cleaning up for you the way you always did for him, so you made your way upstairs intending to lie down for a few minutes.

With your back facing the door as you flipped through a magazine Joel was able to sneak into your room; it was the lock clicking that scared you.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Joel!” You gasped while throwing your magazine at him.

He chuckled hoarsely and leaned against the wall with the doorknob sticking into his back.

“Could at least make a little more noise when you’re following me!”

“The more noise we make the quicker we get caught,” he spoke under his breath.

Your eyes were wide as you took the sight of him in; his skin was beautifully tanned from the Texas sun, his biceps straining against his almost too-small t-shirt, and his jeans hung a little lower than usual.

His glossy eyes lingered on yours as he watched you stand up and check him out. He saw the fear on your face morph into lust, increasing as you walked towards him.

“What’chu nervous for?” He teased after watching your hand fidget with your belly button ring.

You barely heard him, thoughts immersing into thoughts of all the things you wanted him to do to you. “Hmm?”

Even as you got closer to him your eyes couldn’t leave the imprints of his muscles effortlessly flexing against his shirt.

“You play with your piercing every time you get nervous,” he told you after you pressed your body against his.

Ignoring his statement, you stared at the shadow of his collarbone and the light layer of hair coating his chest.

“Look at me,” he cooed, yet you only did it for a second, fueling that same attitude he had at the bar.

He tapped underneath your chin more roughly than you liked, almost like a smack.

But when you looked at his face again you saw that darkness you knew you wanted it like that night again, despite your attempts at hiding it.

Joel could always see past your bullshit.

“You like when I’m mean to you, girl?” He asked. You opened your mouth, ready to omit, but he held a warning finger up. “Don’t. Do not lie to me.”

You swallowed the dryness in your mouth and batted your eyes at him before naively nodding your head. “Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t peg you for the mean type.”

His eyebrows raised in amusement, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “No? But you like it?”

“I fucking love it,” you whispered against his wet lips.

You didn’t need to decompress. You needed to unwind.

“I bet you did, rubbing that needy little pussy all over my leg when I was bruising you up all sweet and blue,” he bullied.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your breath left your body, remembering how good it felt for him to punish you. When you looked at him again you saw an egotistical smirk had plastered itself onto his face.

“Problem s’that you didn’t disobey me tonight, so how could I possibly punish you when you were being such a sweetheart? Sayin’ thank you after opening every one of your gifts and offerin’ to help out.“ His tone was sadistic, taunting…

“Well, it is my birthday…” You said grinning. A heat burned through the pit of your stomach and spilled into your panties. “…and no one’s given me my birthday spankings yet.”

He remained quiet opting to run his hands up your arms until they cradled your face, thumbs stroking your lips and cheeks.

“You gonna count ‘em for me?” He whispered without breaking eye contact.

You smirked and kissed him tenderly. “Yes, sir.”

He pointed at your bed where you went to bend over the edge for him.

His boots softly knocked against the hardwood floor as he paced behind you, pondering in his head how he wanted to proceed.

Despite the curiosity that made you want to turn around and ask him questions, you stayed still and quiet until he gave you your first instruction.

“Take your shorts off.”

You reached for the button and zipper before pushing the denim down until it met your knees on the floor. Your hips wiggling more than necessary.

“No panties?” He said amusedly. You heard his body move behind you so that he became eye level with your ass. “You must’a really wanted that present from me tonight, huh?”

You nodded your head and reached under your stomach, using both hands to spread yourself for him. “I’ve been touching myself all weekend thinking about it.”

Joel stifled a moan at the sight of the creamy precum that revealed itself between your swollen lips.

You flinched and yelped at the sudden feeling of his middle finger spreading your cum around your tight hole making him smile.

“Rub your clit f’me, baby,” he rasped.

Licking your lips you rested your head down on the bed before listening to him; your ring and middle fingers rubbed perfect loops on your bud while your pinkie finger kept your cunt spread for his eyes.

He glanced at your ass which was still marked from his abuse nights prior.

“My God, girl… These my bruises?” He asked wanting to hear your submission.

“No one else I’d let do this to me,” you breathed out.

His calloused hands gripped and massaged your butt for a few quiet moments until a firm smack landed on your left cheek.

His touch left your body as he anticipated a verbal response from you but it took too long for you to compose yourself.

You were just so fucking eager for his fingers to dance around your cunt that you made the mistake of forgetting the arrangement that occurred only two minutes prior.

“I don’t hear you countin’, girl,” he warned.

“Shit,” you whispered, “sorry—“

He interrupted you with another smack, only this one landed on your spread lips.

“Ah!” You yelped, quickly burying your face into your sheets. It stung ruthlessly. “One… And two…”

You couldn’t see it, but you felt the mean smirk on his face burning into the back of your skull. “Take too long t’answer me again… You get the rest on that pretty little pussy a’yours. Understand?”

Your knees braced into the floor as you nodded. “Yes, I understand, Joel.”

“Mm,” he hummed grumpily. “Good.”

Smack.

“Three,” you hissed.

Smack.

“Four…”

Smack!

The pain was starting to get to you in the best way possible.

You knew that for the next week anytime you would sit down on your bruised cheeks you’d remember how Joel took care of you in the way you wanted him to.

One spanking in exchange for one orgasm — that’s how you saw it anyway. He wasn’t into unnecessary punishment, but he went into this knowing he’d find a way to make it worth your while however you saw fit.

Joel only dominated you because you dominated him in every other aspect. When it came to sex he lived to serve you. So if 23 spankings is what you wanted, well then… What kind of man would he be to deny you of that?

By the end of the torture, you didn’t even want to think about sitting down for the next two weeks.

Joel saw your reflection in the mirror hanging from your closet, watching those red and puffy lips curl into a beautiful smile.

“Dunno how much longer we got, girl,” Joel grunted as he stood up. “Best make it quick.”

Your eyes softly close and you bite your lip, giggling and moaning at how his southern drawl sounded especially sexy tonight. He noticed how lazily you were acting and laughed.

“You already fucked stupid?” He said with a small smile.

You turned onto your back, hissing at the pressure on your ass but giggling again at his annoyed tone and pursed lips. “Hmm… Maybe.”

Joel opened his mouth to say something but you raised your feet to rub against the growing bulge in his worn jeans. He watched your bottom lip get stuck between your rows of teeth, shining a drunken smile at him.

“You wanna play around, girl?” He flirted, a crooked show of his grin sending chills throughout your body.

“Wanna feel you, deep…” You let out a strained moan, cunt gripping so tight around nothing your precum slid out.

His fingers slid to the bulky strap of his belt and pulled it from his waist so fast it ended with a snap.

“So pretty like this…” He whispered as he sprung his cock free from its restraints.

Your face warmed with blush and your nipples stiffened at the sight of his dick: so hard it only slightly curved to the right, with a red hot angry tip beaming with a thick droplet of precum.

He leveled with your body and slid into you slowly, not wanting to risk making you moan louder than the walls could handle.

“Need you to be quiet for me, baby,” he whispered, “can ya do that f’me?”

Your eyes were shut, lips still between your teeth as you hummed and mewled. You nodded, looping his curls around the webs of your fingers and legs around his soft waist.

A breathy grunt escaped his mouth. His breath hit just below your ear making your skin prickle with goosebumps.

As his hips softly crashed into yours you felt yourself tensing at the sound of people outside and downstairs. You’d managed to forget your father’s friends were still here, and any one of them could walk upstairs to use the restroom only to hear the soft squeak of your bed frame—your father could.

Joel was just so easy to get lost in. His scent, his pretty smile, his touch… The way his tongue lapped at your neck like a cat would milk. How his hands cradled your waist and thighs. When he’d move his head up just for a moment to look into your heavy eyes.

God, you were a fucking mess.

His cock slid effortlessly against your needy walls, pressing deeply into that perfect spot at an angle you’d never felt before. And fucking hell, you wanted to say his name shamelessly. Scream it and plaster it onto the fucking walls if you could.

You did everything in your power to keep quiet, struggling from how your bruised ass stung even more every time his body crashed into you.

Joel bit the meat on your shoulder to shut himself up. His body yearning to fill you up with his precious seed was almost distracting. Almost.

“Doin’ so good f’me, girl,” he whispered into your chest, the pace increasing. “Might need t’cum.”

“Joel,” you whined, not needing anything more. Your fingers tightened in his hair and your head was thrown back into the mess of your blankets.

The knot in your tummy twisted, curling tightly around itself. You let out too loud of a breath that turned into a moan, but nothing too incriminating.

“Do not make me have to pull out and stop, now,” he rasped before taking two fingers and shoving them into your desperately open mouth.

You choked at the surprise but settled down and bit at his knuckles.

His face pressed into one of your tits as another desperate attempt to keep quiet, but all he had to do was feel you cumming to finish himself. Joel’s cock was sensitive and overwhelmed, and despite his best efforts to keep going for the sake of satisfying you he just couldn’t fucking take it.

You pouted and tried to pull him back in after he slipped from inside you to no avail.

“M’sorry, princess,” he huffed, annoyed with himself. “Can’t handle you sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes but saw the disappointment on his face as he buckled his pants back up.

“Just sneak over tonight,” you flirted, “suck me dry.”

He smirked at your coy smile and slid your bottoms back onto your hips. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, cowboy.”

It had been about a week since your birthday, and Joel did indeed sneak over to give you your well-deserved orgasm, give or take three more.

And his real birthday present was a small Eiffel Tower; he had remembered how you’d always wanted to visit Paris. While he wasn’t the most superstitious or spiritual man he said he’d hope it would bring you good luck with traveling for fashion.

Your dad on the other hand had been quite distant since that night and you wondered if he saw or maybe even heard something that gave your little secret away. Your dirty lies. Had they finally caught up to you?

Or were you just overthinking things? Maybe he’s just been moody or tired or in hermit mode. It could have been lots of things, right?

Needless to say, it was a shock when he called you downstairs as soon as you were done with your shower.

“Hey Dad, what’s up?” You asked as you entered the kitchen.

“You tell me,” he grumbled, eyeing you as you sat down.

“Ummm, the apocalypse is happening and flesh-eating monsters are taking over,” you answered sarcastically. When his facial expression didn’t even change in the slightest you stopped joking. “Uh, I…don’t know…”

“Whose shirt is this?”

A dull brown and red flannel was tossed onto the island and you just knew your face gave you away.

“Dad—“

“Don’t lie to me either,” he said between gritted teeth.

Your father already knew it was Joel’s, you knew that. But he always gave you the opportunity to take accountability for your actions. Not like it made him less mad, it just softened the blow.

“Where did you find it?” You asked, voice shaking.

“Yesterday,” he said after some hesitation, “you were at work for your last day. I was doin’ your laundry and there it was, as plain as day.”

You shut your eyes, a tear of embarrassment rolling down your cheek that you wiped away swiftly. “It’s Joel’s.”

“Why is it here?”

You looked at him with eyes that begged for him to not ask, but his face was hardened.

“Because Joel was here,” you reluctantly answered.

“When.”

“A… A few times.”

“Why?!”

The tension was suffocating; you figured you were already caught so you may as well admit to everything—well, not everything if you could help it.

“Because we’ve been seeing each other,” you said softly, leaning your forehead onto your hand. “Since I got back, we’ve been seeing each other. Sometimes I go there, sometimes he comes here.”

“Since you got back?”

You nodded and faced him again, fighting your tears. It wasn’t that you were sad or worried about what your dad may have done, you just wished you were more honest from the start.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I made the first move. I was trying to get over my boyfriend and… He was there… And it just sort of happened.“

“S’good thing you’re going back to New York soon.”

Your heart sank—had your dad forgotten when you said you were thinking of staying in Austin to stay close? Not just for Joel, but everybody. Your family, your friends, you wanted to be near when Sarah graduated. You missed life in Texas, too much to go back to New York State so soon.

“I—I told you I wanted to stay, that I was thinking of staying close,” you rambled, “did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t forget. You’re not allowed to see him anymore. You in New York makes sure that happens.”

“Wh—not allowed?!” You almost laughed. “I’m twenty-five, I make my own decisions.”

“He’s too old for you,” he said.

You scoffed, standing up. “I’m not some mentally incompetent eighteen-year-old, Dad. I’m a grown woman dating a grown man!”

“Not here! Not when you’re living in my house.”

“Well, then I will just fucking move out!”

You ignored his protests and calls for you, feeling like a grounded teenager all over again.

What you and Joel had was fickle, you knew that. You weren’t stupid. It wasn’t built on a foundation, it was hardly dating even though you wanted it to be more.

Your dad would come around someday. Hell, maybe he would have already had you been honest from the start.

“Hey, Sarah, is your dad home?” You stiffly asked.

She frowned at your puffy eyes and red nose, looking over her shoulder before saying, “Uh, n—no, but he’s just runnin’ a bit late from work. Why don’t you come in and wait for him? He should be back any minute.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t wanna impose. Just tell him to call me when he gets some free time, please?”

“You sure?”

You nodded, not necessarily trusting your voice anymore with how you were choking up from your tears.

Sarah’s shoulders dropped and she insisted you come in. “Come on, it’s starting to rain.”

After a moment of hesitation, you followed her inside after picking your bag up, wiping your nose, and clearing your throat.

Sarah was kind enough to bring you a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table and sitting down a couple of cushions away.

“Are you breaking up with my dad or something?” She asked after a minute or two.

“What?”

“He told me a couple days ago, but I already figured because I heard him talking to you on the phone a while ago. Something about missing you,” she explained.

“I’m sorry, Sarah, I…” You sighed and looked at your hands. “I wish I was there to tell you.”

“No, that’s okay! I think it’s kinda cool. A little weird, but cool.” She assured. “But are you? Breaking up with him, I mean.”

“No, well at least I hope not,” you chuckled softly. “My father isn’t a very forgiving man.”

“He just wants to protect you. My dad said that’s just what fathers do. I’m sure he’ll come around someday.��

“Thanks, Sarah.”

The lock clicks soon followed by the door creaking open; you and Sarah watch as Joel walks in with empty hands before he notices you sitting on his couch. A look of worry spread across his face.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Sarah chirped while standing up. “She just came by to see us.” Sarah walked into the kitchen to give you some privacy.

Joel sat next to you and gestured at the ground. “Why do you have a bag?”

“Oh, I’m just going to stay with a friend for a few days,” you said.

He nodded reluctantly, sensing your nervousness. “Your dad find out?”

A wave of sadness took over you again, but you managed your tears away better this time. You only offered a nod, nails picking at a loose thread on your jeans.

“Why don’t you stay the night? I was gonna make steak for dinner.”

“I—I don’t wanna… Impose.”

He chuckled. “What d’you mean impose? You’re my girlfriend.”

Letting out a surprised sound, you frowned and looked around the room incredulously while Joel just stared at you anxiously.

“Girlfriend?”

He shrugged, leaning his elbows onto his knees. “Well. You are my girlfriend, right?”

“You never asked,” you laughed.

His eyes were a mix of amusement and surprise. “My apologies, darlin’. Forgive me for not having been gentleman enough.” He takes your hand earning a laugh from you. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“You’re so sappy,” you teased before giving him a peck on the cheek. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

“I dunno what I’m gon’ do,” you said softly.

You and Joel had been in bed for a couple of hours just talking about everything, with Sarah sound asleep in her room; the three of you had watched one of Joel’s favorite movies and Sarah gave him a fixed watch.

You shifted up to rest on your elbow and looked down at him. “How much longer you think he’ll be mad?”

“I don’t know, princess,” he said after sucking his teeth. “He doesn’t tend to hold grudges but I know he’s more mad at me. F’it’s any consolation.”

You let out a weak chuckle and leaned down to kiss him. His hand cupped your jaw just firm enough to keep you still. Your lips tangled with his, fingers reaching up to clasp his curls; he climbed on top of you carefully, humming on the tip of your tongue.

He began to grind and hump eliciting moans from you both while his right hand got to work beneath your shirt, thumbing the nipple just enough to tickle you.

Your hand snaked between your bodies to find the opening of his boxers; you pulled his velvety cock out and pumped it gently whilst not bothering to touch yourself as your panties were already pooling.

Your heart ached with so much pain and at the same time so much love. You needed Joel. In every fucking way possible for as long as you’d be blessed to have him.

His lips broke free from yours to greet your neck, then your collarbone, before planting around your now exposed breast.

You exhaled at his warm tongue swirling saliva around your peaked bud, sending waves of shivers down your arching spine.

“Joel,” you whispered leaning into his gentle touch.

With a throbbing clit and a slippery cunt you felt weak beneath him. You were enamored with pleasure that it overtook your body. You couldn’t control your breathing or your trembling. Hand awkwardly shifting around his shaft.

He took your other nipple into his hot mouth, shirt bunched around your arching neck. With daunting hands he traced the hem of your panties, pulling at them carefully.

He sat on his knees to undress your legs, adjusting so his cock lined up with your entrance. He slid in slowly, knowing the lack of foreplay could ruin this.

But it didn’t.

Your walls burned with a stretch so delicious it set your skin on fire. It took everything in you to not moan as loudly as your body begged to.

A soft gasp only leaving your lips, your head lolling back, eyes clenching shut… Yeah. Joel knew how to fucking work you.

Your walls clung to him fearing even just a moment of loss. His eyes burned into your feverish skin, watching the rise and fall of your chest and stomach as you took in deep breaths.

“You feel so good,” he whispered into your collarbone, placing a sloppy kiss on it afterward. “I lo—“

A pause in his voice made your eyes fly open; his hips stuttered the same way his voice did signaling something was wrong.

Joel’s heart punched against yours, but he kept grinding into you like he hadn’t spoken at all. Oh, but all the worry was written in his eyes.

“Joel?” You softly asked between moans.

He took in the softness of your hands cradling his uneven stubble. He hummed and kissed the meat of your palm before biting it gently.

You fought the nerves in your voice. Everything inside your body screamed that this was wrong, yet as you looked into his eyes your heart swelled with admiration for the man that helped you find pieces of yourself again.

“I love you too,” you finally said.

He stopped moving his body against yours and he just stared at you. He was conflicted with whether or not you said that only because he almost did.

But when you said it again and tightened your legs around his waist to affirm it he gave you a gentle kiss, finding his tongue bumping into yours along the way. Pulling back, Joel finished his sentence.

“I love you.”

“You love me?” You teased.

But his face remained serious, eyes boring into yours.

After a few more silent seconds Joel laid his head into the curve of your neck and began riding into you again. Hips rolling into you, breath hitting your neck, and hands gripping the sheets.

Your body was hot as molten lava, melting into the mattress. Joel felt so safe, so beautifully safe. Safe enough to say, “I love you,” in his ear over and over again, his voice overlapping yours with the same words.

He took care of you that night. Letting you immerse yourself into enjoying every damn thing he gave you. His grunts staggered and turned into short hisses of pain as you bit into his shoulder to keep quiet. That’s what fueled him: the pain of your undying desire.

He reached deeper inside of you than he ever dared to before, reaching reaching reaching to find your soul and bear all commitment to it. To serve you, as his gravelly voice whispered, “I fucking live for you.”

“I love you, Joel,” you responded. “It’s you and me. Forever. Us against the world.” A tear made its way from your eye to his forehead.

He kissed the trail the tear left and repeated you. “Us against the world.”

It was just sex talk — usually is, but Joel always knew what words would just make you fucking cum. Those words dripped from his lips like a poisonous honey for you to lap up and savor.

He wanted you cumming all over his sheets cock to fucking mean something. To permeate his love anywhere it could stain.

Joel had started to cum just a second before you did, forcing him to let out a moan. You held his head to your chest while he cradled your back.

Your head buzzed the same way it would when you got high, only it felt better. Quieter. More immersive. Your back arched into his touch and the rolling of his hips kept you in that limbo. Not here nor there. You were right where you needed to be, whatever that fucking meant.

You managed to keep quiet a little better than him, giggling softly when he just plopped down onto you after you had both come down.

He stayed like that for a few minutes while you just stroked the curls by his ear, his other one listening to your heartbeat slow down.

“I’ll get ya cleaned up,” he cooed, and just as he finished dressing his phone began to ring. He just answered it as he walked to the bathroom, letting you rest some more. A few minutes later, he came back and wiped wherever you asked. “I gotta go help Tommy real quick with somethin’. W’ya stay here, keep an eye and ear out for Sarah?” He asked.

“Yeah, for sure. Be safe.”

You shared a kiss with him again before looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand. Shit. 11:32 PM.

“Joel?” He looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Happy Birthday,” you said with a smile.

“Thank you, princess.”

taglist: @paleidiot @sarap-77 @mmeereaa (cant tag) @ssweetart42

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou smut #tlou

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ghostsvacuumcleaner · 10 months

Note

Hi! I saw your alejandro NSFW alphabet and I was in love! Mind doing a John price NSFW alphabet if you are comfortable?

Absolutely comfortable with my favorite dilf omg 🥵 took me a while since I'm working on other requests and I'm sorry bout that but I hope you're still around here! also I'm so SORRY this is so LONG, couldn't help myself!!! Hope you enjoy even so 😭 To work:

TW: NSFW, SMUT. MINORS DNI!

John Price NSFW Alphabet

masterlist | ao3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

There will always be plenty of it, even if he's in a bad mood, even if he's really pissed at you: he'll always love praising his babydoll the most. After he's done with you and absolutely sure your thighs are sliding from the slick that's still down there and exhausted from intensely riding him, he'll hold you fondly against his bear chest and kindly brush his worn fingers through your hair, caressing that very soft spot in your scalp. Although you're in his office and it's kind of necessary for you to get ready and leave quickly before someone can come in and catch you fucking your captain, he'll take his time and offer you a drag of his cigar, and find it very adorable if you inhale wrong and cough; "Gotta let the smoke get to your lungs, love, inhale... that's right, good. Now let go... there you go." he'll say, while his fingertips brush deliciously calmly your bare back, contouring your spine; if you don't choke and is actually an avid smoker like himself, he'll be glad to share and will offer you cigarettes or cigars from his pack evertyime he feels like.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

You'd hardly say he has a favorite body part of yours, because he'll spare no efforts in worshiping it whole - every part of it. If he absolutely had to pick one particular thing, he'd probably say your thighs and legs. Before the two of you engaged in a official relationship, it wasn't often he could see them because you'd mostly wear those average cargo pants; the very first time you accepted to go out with the team and not so unintentionally decided to wear that damn tiny dress, your thighs started living rent free in your cap's mind. He had a hard time staring them all night long, craving it as the dress kept riding up your thighs while you danced - against other men. Almost like you were challenging him in finally coming to you after days of incessant innuendo and stares at work.

As for himself, he loves his hairy, perfumed and broad chest. He feels vivid like he doesn't in much time when you brush those small soft hands of yours across it, when you're with them all over him like you own him - particularly in those times you feel jelly when you see some other woman staring at him. Like stating he's your man. He loves it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Before the two of you made a commitment, he was very careful with it. By that time, you getting pregnant could be a very big problem for both of you - not only because you're considerably younger than him, but mostly because he is your boss. Your captain. That could come off the wrong way for his superiors, could hurt both of your reputations. He'd grab a twisted handful of your hair, his other hand digging tight on your waist as he digs, buries his cock deep within your swollen walls - your leg bent, resting over the desk and your cunt so exposed your clit rubs lightly on the wooden surface each time he thrusts - you're going insane. You came minutes ago and there he is still fucking you dumb, making you bite your own cheeks trying to keep your voice down, till suddenly contact's broken and he steps back, pumping his cock a few times only to release his spend on your beautiful thigh, with a muffled groan. "Bloody fuckin'- ah, doll, y' gonna kill me like that..."

Today's day with the two of you dating, nothing will get him more relaxed than forcing his seed inside you, watching his own cum drip through your folds once he pulls off - and he'll gladly tell you after, that he really hopes it catches this time.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's been watching you closely from your very first day of work. He'd never tell you or anyone else - and sometimes, he denies it to himself out of shame, that he intentionally recruited you on his team because of his crescent infatuation with your young, beautiful and strong self. It's not that you're not highly competent and good at your job, definitely not. But that wasn't his only reason to pick you, and he'll bury this secret with him - that he once in his life chose to be unprofessional, because he wanted you. But btw that didn't stop him from being tough and demanding with you, especially on your first days. heh

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's definitely very experienced, in every pure aspect of it. It was a part of the reason you grew interested on him with no time - he was experienced like none of these young guys you had before. Knows every right places, mature, caring. Bit old fashioned. It was all you wanted; It'll get on your nerves sometimes although, because you're not the only one to think that he's the hottest shit alive. Many woman fancy him, some older than you - which will get you really concerned sometimes. He'll reaffirm you whenever it's necessary, he's yours, have never been anyone's like he's yours.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It generally depends on his mood, but again if he had to absolutey state a favorite one: on your side or behind. Stressing day at work, comes home to find you waiting for him in bed - he'll love fucking you on your side, heavy panting on your ear as his hand squeezes your perfect sized breast - his hips moving ever so slowly as his hand brushes the skin of your belly down to your folds, where he'll comfortably make room for his fingers against your clit in slow, circular movements. "God I fuckin' need you today, hun..." - he'll grunt in your ear in his raspy voice.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not in the moment particularly, not when fucking you - but on all other times, he'll find room to be goofy and make you laugh at his terrible jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's hairy on all parts of his body, no thread. He's very clean and groomed, yes - he loves his beard and moustache, spends a hideous amount of money in lotions and perfume and combs it after every shower he takes, religiously. Wears a big beard for so long now he probably can't picture himself with a shaven face anymore.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Price is the perfect balance between rearranging your guts whenever you're a brat and he's got to teach you a lesson, and pulling multiple orgasms out of you by fucking you slow and passionately when he's affectionate. He'll have you on his lap, his arms wrapped around you, his hand supporting your back while he spares no efforts in trailing kisses from your breast to your neck, smelling your hair and letting out a low mewl to how amazing you feel. He'll be lazy, slow, move your hips ever so slow making you roll against him like you're dancing on his lap. "Mmm-" he'll moan, before taking your mouth in a passionate sloppy kiss again.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't need much of it anymore, so only in cases of much need - in mission and can't concentrate in anything else but work, some of you had to travel for any type of reason, he's really horny and you're sick - he'll do it. But as for before having you, he'd be embarassed to admit how many times he had masturbated to you in the shower.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Brat tamer, and it doesn't surprise anyone. He doms almost everytime. He absolutely loves it when you put up an attitude - not acting childish, no, when you stand up and defy him. He'll be the boss. He'll be proud of himself for marking you everywhere he possibly can, for owning you.

A bit of exhibitionism. He loves fucking you raw against his office desk or honestly anywhere else it's plausible in the headquarters; he loves it that he has to cover your mouth or else you'd be a loud moaning mess. It was hard restraining himself when someone knocked on the other side of the door, all curtains down and the slight sound of your mouth gagging on his cock. When you mentioned to stop, he forced your head hard till your nose met the hair in his groin, and oh only God knows how hard it was finding room for all that length in your throat.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

When I mean anywhere he can, I mean anywhere he can. He even would enjoy it if he had someone watching the two of you, but for the bare reason of: he's the one fucking you. He's making sure that this other person watching knows it, that you're his and only his. If anything, he wouldn't share, quite the opposite. But the idea that there's a dangerous possibility that someone catches the two of you arouse him; so, in his office, in the deposits, sometimes in the briefing room if it's late and empty.

Of course, that doesn't exclude the special place in his heart that his big, comfy bed has. He loves having you on his bed, cozy, warm, and very domestic.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you being the badass youngster you are turns him on; not exactly when at mission, because at those times he keeps himself strictly professional and very concentrated. But in the backstage, he loves it when you defy him and when you brat around - that'll give him further reasons to punish you later.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Wouldn't do anything if he gets the slight sense that you don't want to, nothing to hurt you (not for real) and wouldn't share. Perhaps, he'd love to have someone seeing it but sharing is a huge no. Watcher can't touch or get closer, only watch, while he makes you cum.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Can't possibly say he has a preference, he adores both equally. He'll love burying your face deep in his groin till you feel that little ache on the back of your throat, and keep you there till you're out of air; he'll also love burying himself between your thighs, especially when you wrap them tight against his face and squeeze it - he could die on the warmth of your thighs and cunt.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As mentioned before, it highly depends on his mood. When taming, when fucking you rough, punishing - he'll go fast and rough enough to get you out air while trying to restrain your voice; "Hell- hm, d'you like it now, are you gonna keep the attitude- hn- now? Hm?" he'll moan, pressing your whole body against the wall, fucking you standing.

If passionate, he'll take his time with you in a slow pace, slow movements more like a dance of his hips against yours in syntony. He'll hum pretty words in your ear and promise you the world; "M' gonna fuckin' marry you, hun... have this pretty little cunt everyday."

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Although he likes to have freedom and time to fuck you straight and get at least two delicious orgasms out of you, he's a very busy man and you're too a very busy woman, and quickies are simply very convenient for the both of you. I'd say quite often, giving the circumstances - which doesn't mean that he doesn't, at least twice a week, spares time to fuck you the way he likes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's a bit old fashioned, but he's willing to experiment if it's nothing too eccentric. If you ask nicely, he'll try; if you're not familiar with it he'll also love teaching you a bit more of bdsm, since he's bit of an adept.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Lots of stamina. Wouldn't go all night long because he simply doesn't have to, he's very experienced, good at what he does and he knows it. He knows what buttons to press to make you feel good; he lasts two good delicious long rounds, and that's enough to get you to heaven.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Again, a bit old fashioned; so I don't think he own many toys. He does own ropes he'll love to use on you, and as for the rest he'd rather use his own hands. He wouldn't refuse to use toys if asked though, probably wouldn't be too comfortable with using on himself, but would definitely use them on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, he loves restraining you, girl. Days without seeing him? You won't touch, won't relieve yourself in any other way. You'll wait, patiently, agonizingly, like the good girl you are, for him to arrive. He'll let you climbing up the walls, craving him. If he's in mission, he'll send you pictures, videos - that'll make you want to scream for not being able to touch yourself while watching. When he comes back, IF he thinks you deserve it, he'll fuck you; if not, he'll make you beg. If you disobey him, get yourself ready for when he arrives. That'll be a fun ride.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not exactly loud, but very vocal. He grunts, says dirty things against your ear in a low, raspy whisper - will get moans out of you for he loves seeing his little girl squirming under him. Will encourage you not holding your voice back, and if you're in a dangerous spot and could possibly be seen, he'd shush you with a deep thrust - or by occupying your mouth with his fingers instead.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has a picture of you in his wallet and finds it the most absolutely romantic and cute thing ever. And he's right it is

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's definitely big, but that's not the best part of it, not what really caught you off: he's thick. Swollen, a little thicker in the middle and thins towards the tip - just enough to stretch you out entirely anytime he goes inside you. Full of blood pumping veins and surrounded by a fair amount of hair, arghhh I want it

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He though he was going back to his teenager years in those first months after meeting you. Hell, he'd be craving for you for the least things - he definitely felt young again. It's high, he's not compulsive but the bare sight of your body makes him think of the nastiest things - and that's been even before the two of you actually started that fling, that later one became the relationship you have now.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

This is a very tired man we're talking about. After making sure you're okay, all good, clean, warm, cozy, not thirsty and feeling loved, he'll collapse on your bare breasts hugging you for dear life - don't you dream of waking up before him because you won't get to push him out of yourself, like - no way.

#cod fic #john price #captain john price #john price x you #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain price x female reader #price x you #cod mw2 #price smut #john price smut #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #cod smut #call of duty smut

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wolfytoothy · 5 months

Text

venom

summery: you got a simbio, aka venom. Yiu were missing for 2 weeks, and that's how you got him. But when you escaped, and that's when Miles found. Well the prowler but you know. But now you guys went on a date, till the friend came after you while you were leaving the date. Then he was reviled

........

You had venom for a full week now. And lord can he be annoying. When you first met him lord was it chaos. When you were escaping, you had no idea what the hell was wrong with you.

‘Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Okay maybe if I-’

Don’t move

A voice said you followed instructions and luckily you were clear. All of a sudden some of the guards found you. “HEY.STOP RIGHT THERE” some one yelled.Then those big body’s started shooting at you. You then started run.

“Ah fuck, fuck, fuck” you yelled. That’s when you got shot in the leg. You stummbed down and held your thigh in pain. One of the men came up to you, he watched as you rolled on the floor in agony. “I got eyes on the experiment. Taking her in right now” he said into the radio.

As soon as he was about to grab you, a black gooey type thing ejected from her hand. The thing grab the guard by the neck lifting him into the air as venom took over. Then but his head off.

Time skip:

after everyone was dead and severely injured He retracted back into your body. “EWW, ew, ew,ew,ew,ew. Did I- we just-, did YOU JUST BIT ALL THERE HEADS OFF” you screamed.

Yes, and if you wanna make it out alive and not get caught, i suggest we go. Now.

“Who-who are you” you asked as you started running.

I am venom

And from that day on, he had been stuck with you. Its been a good 2 weeks now and it’s… been something.

You were walking down the street to get venom some chocolate, after he’s been bugging you for the past few days.

“ you see you can’t just eat people, theres bad, an theres good, but theres very very bad people that don’t deserve a chance you know” you whispered as you said high to a person that was looking at you weird.

So only eat the bad guys?

“Yes,yes only them, you will never and I mean NEVER eat the good guys” you said as you entered the convenience store. “Hi miss lee” you greeted. “Hey n/n”. You went to the back of the store and grabbed a bunch of chocolate bars.

We need a hero name. A cap, oh or maybe-

“Wow, wow huh”

We are the lethal protectors

“...I- okay bud”

Wait, really

“Yea, you can do whatever, as long as it doesn't necessarily interfere with my school life you know and my work life cuz those are very important” you whispered as you but another box of chocolate in the basket.

Hmm, sure.

“Good” you nodded as you made your way to the counter, and paid for it all. “Thank you, Miss Lee” you said.

How bout we go have some fun, like weee, go eat some heads.

“Bud I literally just bout you a fucking loads of chocholet, what more do you want” you complained. You opened the door of your home and went up to your room as you listened to venom whin. You zoned out as you ‘listened’ to him rant on. Till your phone rang.

Who is that?

“Its my boyfriend”

Can i eat him?

“ NO” you yelled as you answered the phone

The phone call:

You:Hey Miles

M: sup ma, you ready?

You:r-ready, for what, were we goin’

M: remember our date… you forget huh

You:what. No, I have no idea what you on about fr hehe

M: just say you forgot

You:yea i forgot, sorry. But ima get ready

M: better grt ready quick, I’m out side

Time skip:

You got dressed and made your way outside to see Miles leaning on his car on his phone.

Ooo, he is handsome… can i eat him“If you eat him, I will expose you” you whispered, making Miles' heads perk up and smile. “ hey ma” he greeted, kissing your cheek. Another

time skip:

You and Miles went on a little date, you guys went to a little cool cafe. It was nice. Then you guys went to the ghetto to pick up something.“Boy why you bring me to the ghetto” you complained. “relaxe, This is part of the date mami” Miles reassured as he pulled up to, what looks like an abandoned warehouse. “Oh hell no, nigga I’m black, you know black people always die first” you joked. “And besides If anything happens you know I’ll protect you”

And me

“Whatever you say fr” you sighed. You opened the door till Miles shut it again. “Wow,wow,wow. What you doin’ “ he said. “Getting outta the car what it looks like” you sassed. “How bout we drop that attitude and try again”.

Oooo. now can I eat him

You rolled your eyes as Venom's words and bit back a strong ‘NO’ from coming out of your mouth.

“ I’m comin’ with”, “no your not. This is prowler work—” You completely zoned out on what he was saying as venom started talking.

Isn’t the Prowler one of the bad guys… I’m bout to start munching.

Right as he said that a black tentacle ascended from your back. You slam you back against the car door making venom recoil.

OW!

“I-... the hell was that about, you good?”You gulped and nodded. “Yea I’m straight" you nodded. "But I'm comin with regardless" you said stepping out of the car.

"Listen it's a long story, I'll explain when we're alone or sum. Just, lay low ight' " you whispered as Miles came up behind you in his prowler suit.

"What the-, how did you change so quickly" you asked. "Skill. Here, take this. If your gonna come with me, I don't need them knowing who you are" he explained.

You took the purple mask and put it on. "Okay... do you just keep mask on you" You chuckled. "Sometimes" he chuckled.

"Stay close ight baby" he said kissing your forehead before letting his mask cover his face.

"Okay-oooo a voice changer thingy" you chirped.

You both then started climbing the fire escape. There were a lot of stories. It was high.

"I swear if I fall, I will haunt you for the rest of your life" you warned as you looked down. "Don't worry I got you ma"

If he does not then I got us

You guys climbed up 9 more levels before reaching the top.

Miles pulled you up and you quickly got away from the edge. You looked up to see multiple guys standing there with guns.

"Oh shit" you muttered.

"Ah, prowler" the guy greeted. "Mr. Hawthorn", Miles, prowler replied. Then all eyes were on you. You gulped as the very big man approached you, staring you down.

Oh shit, quick act cool or something

"And who might you be" the man asked. Prowler grabbed you waist pulling you closer to him. "She's-", "no. I wanna here it from her" he ordered stopping your lovely boyfriend from helping you.

You gulped hard.

Make it seem like your dangerous. Make it seem like you blow up children for fun, say something. Call your self star glazer, NO. Call your self venom

You played it off and placed a sly smirk on your face, but it showed threw your eyes.

"I am venom,and you are..." You asked shaking his hand. "I'm scarface, nice to meet you Doll" he flirted as he kissed your hand. You could feel the jealousy radiating from Miles.

"Oh, well hello scarface,"

More like butt face, he looks like if DJ kalida and drake had a baby

You bit back a laugh as you grimace at the fact he was touching you.

"So we're are you from, what do you do? You have very pretty eyes Doll. Can I call you Doll" he asked looking at you. Lord did you wanna throw up.

Uhh, he does know your only 17...right.

"Hehe, thank you,and no you can not" you sassed taking your hand back and whiping it on your pants. "And Don't look for any redeeming qualities, I have nun" you said. Making him laugh.

Wow, this guy is really stupid, can he not take the hint?

"Yea,yea, hey what's your name again doll" he said holding out his hand.

"I am venom" you repeated. This time, a flash of white flashed in your eyes, making scarface snatch his hand back.

"Right, uh, let's go" he stammered as he began walking.

You two followed along.

"Okay,bad ass" Mile's chuckled. You rolled you eyes and went on with it.

Time skip:

You found your way back to them and waited to leave.They men walked you and Miles back outside. “Pleasure doing business with you, Prowler” Scarface said shake his hand. Scar face looked at you and held out his hand for you to shake. “Venom” he bowed his head slightly. You retired the gesture not shaking his hand. “Pleasure meeting you” you said.

It really wasn’t he’s annoying

You rolled your eyes at his words but agreed silently,some of the guys stood back while the others walked with you and Miles.As soon as you opened the door there were police and FBI. A bunch of dots were on you, “FREEZE,”one guy yelled

“GET ON THE GROUND NOW!” another yelled.

You and held your hands up in the air while Miles got ready to fight. While the other men got their guns out ready to shoot back.

“You guys, you do not wanna do this, trust me” you started, Miles looked at you then back at them, wondering what was going on fr.“MASK”

“COPY” then everyone got their mask out, and put it on. Now you knew what you had to do.

“Alright, have it your way.MASK”

Copy

In a matter of seconds Venom took over, snartching a guy up and biting his head off. Then they shot a bag as thing, but he caught it with his teeth, bursting it, making the gas escape it’s capsule.

Then.. Venom did his thing, while Miles did his.When everyone was dead or severely injured, you/venom was about to transform back, till bullets were being shot. You tured around and started walking towards him till the round was done. you/he, grabbed him by the leg holding him up by the ankle, about to bit his head off till…

“OHH What the hell?!” a voice said. you/he snapped his head in the direction of the voice to see the prowler. Aka Miles standing there. “Oh shit”In seconds you/he dropped the victim and you transformed back.

As soon as he say it was you he backed up a bit. “y/n what the hell,what-whats was that”.

“Yea so long story short i have a symbiote” you smiled sheepishly. You say his confused face and nodded slightly.

“Yeaaaaa, remember when i went missing for a few weeks. Sooo I got kidnapped into a lab, they did an experiment on me and multiple other people, and it turns out that I now have a symbiote named venom” you say all in one breath. Miles stared at you in aw then snapped out of it when back up came. He cut you off and grabbed you hands, his mask retracted back onto his face as he spoke.

“Okay,okay, breath, you can tell me when were out of danger.” he said, you nodded and went along.

Back at the house:

It had been few hours of when you got home and explained everything to him. “espera, espera, espera, espera, so you have a parasite-”

PARASITE.

You flinched at the loudness a little and stopped Miles. “Symbiote” you corrected. “He doesn't like being called ‘parasite’ but you're on the right track” you nodded.

“Yea symbiote or something. That you got from an organization that was doing experiments on people, which those others failed. But they found you, apartly you were a match or somethin. They were keeping you in there, for… whatever reason, you escaped cuz you realized you were gonna die if you don’t. Not its been 2 weeks or so, you and this… thing somehow bonded, now this guy lives rent free in your body” he explained

Wow, this guy is good. No wonder you like him so much.

“Yes, i know fast learner, we love that fr” you smiled. “His name is…v-venom” he said slowly, not sure if he was right.

“Correct”

Correct

“So he can like…here me right now. He talks… to you”

“Yea, wanna meet him”

“Uhh…will it depend… Does he like me? Cuz it seems buddy loves to eat heads” he said timidly.

Mmmm, well he’s not that bad, he’s not my type, but he’s not that bad, I can get used to him. But when you kissed him I can tell he was rather delicious. If he was a girl I would most definitely like him more. Buuuut he’s fine.

You nodded.

"He said he would like you better as a girl but he can work with you...also he said when we kissed you tasted good." You blurted.

"...is...that a good or a bad?"

" it's a good, he likes you very much actually" you nodded. "But don't worry, I won't let him hurt you papa" you reassured, giving him a peck. A sigh of relief could he heared from the boy.

"This is why I love you"

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles #e.42 miles #earth 42 miles x you #atsv prowler #earth 42 prowler #miles morales prowler #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales x reader #venom symbiote #venom #venom x reader

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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

Text

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 6,118 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, fluff, swearing, loneliness, family issues, feeling unwanted, mentions of bullying, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of inappropriate and abusive relationships from reader’s past (nothing detailed), mentions of relationships with an inappropriate age gap (adult men dating reader when she was still a teenager—nothing detailed), brief mentions of imprisonment, crying. i think that’s it!

a/n: sorry to say not all updates will be this quick 🫠 this is only ready now because i had already written a good chunk of it when i wrote part one. creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

“How’d it go?” Martha pulled herself up to get a better look at you, hands on the inner edge of the service desk.

She probably thought with how much time had passed, that things went well. That you spent time with Eddie while he worked, talking when he wasn’t too focused on something else. Maybe you went out to eat and caught up—surely that was why you were returning now when you had left to see him around late morning. It definitely wasn’t because you drove off after he snapped at you and didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself. A prank? Why would it have been a prank?

It certainly hadn’t been so long because you couldn’t stand the idea of facing her with tears in your eyes and a waver to your voice. Surely, you hadn’t been crying and chastising yourself in your car in some random parking lot until you felt you could be seen in the outside world again. There was no way you were showing up now because when you were on your way to get more greasy food, your car sputtered to a halt because you’re an idiot who had the engine running the entire time you were in that parking lot.

She imagined your afternoon spent with Eddie—not a few strangers who helped you push your car to the nearest gas station (which was thankfully rather close, your only bout of luck thus far). You didn’t need to stop to cry a second time in one day (this time with the car off) just so you could get it out of your system before going into the market on your way back. And by that point it wasn’t even about Eddie. Okay, maybe a little bit, but mostly just because you were so overwhelmed by how everything was going wrong.

She was sure during all that time that you had successfully reunited with your long lost friend. But then as you trudged over, you pointed to your temple.

“Always better up here, right?” you murmured, voice tired and your eyes still somewhat raw.

“Oh, dear…,” she sighed, reaching to pat your hands that were now settled on the ledge where guests were greeted.

“I don’t… I don’t really want to talk about it…,” you admit, and she gives your hands a small squeeze. She can’t help but notice the scent of salt and grease—you definitely had a bag with cheeseburgers and fries waiting for you, probably settled on the floor beside your feet so you weren’t leaving oily stains on her countertop.

Maybe it was ridiculous to be so upset. Stupid emotions. Stupid, stupid emotions that you should be able to control by now. Maybe it was because you let yourself get caught up in your hopes more than you thought and now you were left not just disappointed, but humiliated too.

“Oh, I got you this,” you continue after what you hoped was a forgettable dab to the corner of your eye with the knuckle of your right thumb. You pull your purse to the side to grab a small brown paper bag—one that didn’t have stains collecting on the bottom. “They didn’t have tuna, but I know you said you like turkey better than ham so…”

“You don’t need to keep bringing me food,” she reassured you with a sweet smile, as if it didn’t make her day whenever you did. She wasn’t used to such a kind young girl being around—someone who thought to get her something to eat or listened to her stories with all the respect and attentiveness that makes a person feel like they matter.

“It’s rude to show up with food for myself and not for you,” you argued gently while offering her a weak, closed mouth smile.

“You still don’t have to, though… Why don’t you go lie down, hm?” Martha patted at your hands again before sinking back into her seat. “Rest up a little. I’m here if you need to talk.”

As you laid alone in your bed that night with your hair still partially damp after a shower—memories of your childhood flooded in. You hated feeling so utterly lonely and rejected. It only made you think of growing up which always made you feel worse. It reminded you of being all by yourself at ages where you really should’ve had your parents around, or at least a babysitter.

They hadn’t been ready to have a kid, not really. The couple had been all wrapped up in the romanticism and fantasy of starting a family, and didn’t listen when other parents shared stories to hint at the fact that it’s not that easy. You wondered if that’s when they started to hate you. When you cried all night when they wanted to sleep or go bar hopping with friends. When you’d spit up on them; or suddenly have a shift in your sleeping habits just when they thought they had a grasp on them; or when you constantly grew out of those clothes they swore they just bought. You were a waste of time and money. They looked forward to you growing up more than anything so they could leave you in the house and eventually kick you out of it.

Once you were old enough to make a sandwich or pour a bowl of cereal on your own, they abandoned you as much as possible. Sure, you could handle a peanut butter and jelly or a bowl of Cheerios—that didn’t mean you felt secure in the house all by yourself. At first you would leave all the lights on to give yourself some semblance of security, but then they yelled at you over an electric bill you didn’t understand. Then you’d have “accidents” just so they’d come home—whether that was slicing your finger while trying to cut your sandwich or because you fell or something else you thought of. You found comfort in them being around even if they were pissed at you for being the reason they had to come back early. Then they stopped coming home when you called them crying. Instead, they reassured you that you were old enough to clean your finger and put on a bandaid; or that the fall wasn’t that bad if you could get up and go to the phone in the kitchen. So that ended up being a lost cause.

The habit that stuck the longest was from that little magic 8 ball you got one birthday from an aunt you never saw. It actually listened to you and gave you the reassurance and guidance you needed. When you were scared of the dark, you’d whisper “Do monsters exist?” and it told you no. When you thought you heard someone in the house just because it was settling, you’d ask it if someone broke in and it helped ease your racing heart with the same reply. Besides Eddie, it was your only companion. That stupid hunk of plastic.

Hot tears that you assumed were all spent earlier today stream down from your eyes and into your hair as your train of thought turns to one memory in particular. That night you shook the child’s toy with all your might as you asked it if your parents loved you. This time the familiar phrase scratched into that floating blue triangle wasn’t so comforting.

It was a flash. A blurry replay from the back of your mind, but it still hit you hard. You wipe at your wet cheeks with the feverish haste of someone who was crying in front of a stranger. No one was in the room with you, but you still hated the way it felt. You should’ve never let any of those tears fall today—that’s what made them real. That’s what cemented how miserable you really were.

“Just look up at the sky and blink if you don’t want to.” Eddie had said as he sat next to you on the pavement.

He had been teaching you how to skate and you fell off of his board, leaving your knees and palms all scraped up and bloody. You wanted to cry, but you hated crying. It made you feel like a dumb kid. Mom and dad hate dumb, crybaby kids. You should be able to control your emotions better than this by now.

“If they don’t slip out then they’re not real. They never happened, I promise.” The boy lisped around the gap in his teeth. He had lost his last baby tooth earlier that week. He was all grown up, you guessed.

“But what about when I can’t keep them in?” You whimpered, unsure if you’d be able to blink them back the way he suggested. The boy toyed with a piece of gravel between his fingers and shrugged lazily.

“I dunno. Just wipe ‘em away, I guess. I don’t have any tissues, but you can use my sleeve if you wanna.”

He pulled his long sleeve down until it was over his hand and offered his covered fist to you.

You huffed out a broken laugh at the memory and pulled your own sleeve down to continue wiping at your face. God, you missed him. He was your first best friend, and honestly your last. You had never felt that close with anyone else, and sure it was dumb because you were only kids but it still meant a lot to you. He was who you went to when you didn’t want to stay in an empty house, and even though most parents would throw a fit over a girl and a boy having sleepovers—yours couldn’t care less. At least someone else was in charge of you, even if it was Eddie’s dad who they thought was shit for reasons you didn’t understand.

He was a kind of intimidating looking character and sometimes he insisted you two stay at the local park until he came to get you when he had some friends on their way over (which you realized the implications of later), but he was a nice dad. You were around so often that he’d call you “kiddo” and ruffle your hair the way he did with Eddie’s buzzed scalp—which was more grabbing the fuzzy top of his head and nudging him around playfully than really ruffling hair. He knew you didn’t like crust on your sandwiches. He knew you liked strawberry milk more than chocolate milk, which Eddie appreciated cause it meant more chocolate Yoo-hoo for him. His dad was relatively busy and a little intense, but you liked him and you liked staying over.

Even at 24, you missed blanket forts. You missed making up stories under all the blankets and sheets as you held flashlights under your faces. You missed “camping” in the backyard. You missed wrestling. You missed watching tv until the American flag was fluttering and the national anthem played until the screen faded to black. You missed the anticipation of trying to see who was faster at turning off the tv before the screen flipped to those streaks of color and let out that god awful noise. You took turns to see who could get the closest to right when it was about to switch but before that noise could sound. You had the best score before he left.

You smiled lightly now as you settled into the bed, face still warm from all your distress of the day. Despite Eddie being part of why you had been crying in the first place, you still turned to memories of him to calm yourself down. You thought about when you were sure he’d be your first kiss—a decision you had made unfortunately a few weeks before he left. This was the kind of childish memory that made you roll your eyes, but deep down it actually made life simpler and sweeter so you still cozied up to it whenever you remembered. Reminiscing about when those kinds of things were new and exciting—without the burden of knowing all the mess that eventually comes with endearment—soothed you.

At the time, you were steadily approaching adolescence and starting to pay attention to romance novels and tv programs. It made having a boy as your best friend suddenly feel different in your stupid little prepubescent brain. The same shit he always did started to make you go shy and blush, and he’d nudge you and call you a “fuckin’ dork”. He was still in his “girls are gross” phase whereas you were already forming crushes. You developed crushes just about every day by the time you were in fifth grade, but you liked your best friend the most.

It’s funny actually—or maybe just sad—but you still had a habit of constantly forming crushes. The thought of being desired by someone thrilled you, but that love for attention put you in shitty situations sometimes. No one even liked you until you were maturing in a way that felt so much sooner and so much faster than the other girls by grade 6. Maybe that should’ve been the tell that the sudden interest in you was hollow, but it made you feel special. You kinda liked knowing boys fixated on you even if they were mimicking lewd comments they overheard their older brothers say or wrote about you in the boy’s bathroom—no matter how much you hated yourself for secretly basking in all of the attention.

It wasn’t always dumb boys in middle school, though, even if it would’ve been nice for things to be that basic forever. Eventually it was guys who were too old for you when you were in your late teens. The types who’d say shit like “That’s what you gotta love about high school girls. You get older, and they stay the same age,” and made you feel like you were grown and capable—when it benefited them, of course.

The nights you regretted getting wrapped up in the excitement of an older man or someone you had never met before at a bar or someone who had a bad habit of punching holes into walls awfully close to where your head was against the plaster—you thought about Eddie. You wondered if he grew up to be as awful as all the other boys you knew. If he turned into a creep or if he was the same, sweet boy who—sure, would hold you down and pretend he was gonna spit on you—but had also been taught to hold the door open for you or gave you a flower on your birthday or held your hands when he taught you to skate, promising that he wouldn’t let you fall. Well, except for when you insisted you were ready to do it by yourself. Then he said “Okay, but if you fall on your ass then you don’t get to yell at me.” And you didn’t yell, but he gave you his sleeve if you needed to cry.

There were parents who disappointed. Extended family you rarely heard from. Friends that came and went. Boyfriends who broke your heart, but best friends were forever in your mind. Wasn’t that why you made those bracelets and spit into your palms before shaking on the decision that you were always going to be there for each other?

Eddie’s shift dragged along after that strange young woman showed up. He knew his reputation. He knew that he was the butt of most jokes. He knew he was the town freak even when he had finally graduated and was trying to be a responsible adult. There would always be a few who remained unrelenting in their efforts to make him miserable, or at least that’s how it felt. And it wasn’t like you were someone he recognized as guilty for his constant harassment, but it wouldn’t be the first time some local asshole’s cousin or friend came to visit and was put up to the task of making him feel liked just for it to be some cruel punchline. He was tired of the jokes and the pranks and the muttered comments as people watched his every move. He needed to stay one step ahead or he’d be dealing with it forever. Why else would you pull him away from the back just to talk to him? He didn’t even know you. The frustration burned at him through most of his shift, which he took out on all the exertion he had to put into fixing that crappy Ford Ranch Wagon. He prayed that he would finally sleep tonight, the thought of a hot shower and an old bed waiting for him steadily bringing his mood back up.

Eddie sighed happily when it was time to clock out, holding the door open for Linda on her way out so she could lock up for the two of them.

“Night, Lin,” he sighed with a small smile that spoke of apologies for his constant grouchiness, and parted from her to head to his van.

“Oh, wait!” she suddenly called out, making him raise his brows and twist on his heels. He watched her make her way over to him all while holding something out for him.

“This was left for you by that odd girl who came by.”

At the mention of you, he scowled a little—certain it was a continuation of some joke, until he felt the plastic beads strung together on some string.

“Uh… thanks.”

“She looked real upset. All teary-eyed. Did you break up with that poor girl?”

“What?” Eddie’s head snapped up to eye her incredulously. “I—No! I don’t even recognize her. I don’t think we’ve even met before.”

Lin eyed him suspiciously before letting out a small hum. Men, she thought, although Eddie had always been a good kid, in her opinion—no matter what others said.

“Really, I swear.”

“Okay, hon… well go get some rest, alright?”

He hoped the same for her, and walked back to his car once she was safe in her vehicle and driving off. Eddie clambered into his old van and carelessly punched the button that turned on the light above his head. The bracelet in his hand was small and crowded with an odd assortment of different shaped and colored beads except for seven of the nearly identical beads that were lined up in the center. At both ends there were knots in the thick string to keep the beads from slipping off and had tails left on either side so you could tie and untie the bracelet whenever. Not that you two ever did untie them. The only time you took yours off was when you went swimming at the community pool and were scared you were going to lose it—and that didn’t count. You both promised it didn’t count cause you were just avoiding disaster.

He held it up to get a better look and read the lettering on those seven beads.

C-R-I-T-T-E-R

Critter. Eddie’s brows furrowed together and confusion was only welcome for half a second—maybe even less—before a pang of familiarity punched him in the gut.

“You’re doing it wrong!”

“How can I be doing it wrong? Will you screw off?”

“Eddie, you have to make a pretty pattern of colors, not just random mish-mash. See?”

You held up the bracelet you were working on for him with a pattern of his favorite colors: red bead, blue bead, black bead, red bead… and so on. His was just whatever bead he grabbed that he thought looked cool since you had so many to choose from. There were bulky wooden ones; those tiny little rainbow ones your mom let you have when her long necklace full of them broke (she didn’t want to clean them up so she promised you could keep them if you did); sunburst ones; chunky square ones that had letters and numbers on them; tribeads that were half in and half out of that thin plastic Beadery bag in your collection; and those dumb pop beads that he couldn’t even put on the string but of course kept picking up by accident.

“Screw off,” He insisted a second time and you rolled your eyes before continuing with your craft.

For all the shit you gave him, you loved the bracelet. Once it was done and he gave it to you, it was officially the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned. You had insisted you two trade the bracelets like you heard the other girls in your grade talk about. You had to make them for each other rather than make your own and you had to tie them around the other’s wrist while they closed their eyes and made a wish.

Some of the boys in school gave him shit for it, calling him names for wearing jewelry he got from the girl in the grade below them. He didn’t care though. After all, Eddie wasn’t one to change himself for the sake of fitting in and he loved his bracelet.

He laughed a bit in disbelief now as he looked down at the bracelet he made for you back in 1975. You remembered him? God, he hadn’t thought of you in forever. Not to be an ass, but because it got too painful.

Among all of the stress that night his dad was arrested, he had been so overwhelmed that he completely shutdown. He was quiet and his expression was numb as he answered questions and packed his things. He was apprehensive and apathetic when he was brought to his uncle he rarely saw, but he didn’t cry. And he never told anyone this, but he never cried until a random thought of not seeing his best friend anymore suddenly set him off while he was trying to sleep. That was what made him realize the reality of everything that occurred. He didn’t have his home anymore. He didn’t have his dad. He didn’t have anything other than a new guardian and a trailer with one bedroom that Wayne had to pull all of his stuff out of so Eddie could have it. And he didn’t have you.

He brought you up a few times, but eventually stopped when he realized how stressed Wayne got over the mention of a trip into Ohio. A trip that meant dipping into his funds—that were already starting to run spectacularly low now that he was responsible for an 11 year old—for the gas money and probably a fee at the state line. Likely a motel room too, if your parents didn’t let them stay at the house.

How did he not recognize you? The more he thought over your interaction, the more he recognized your eyes and the shape of your nose and the curve of your lips even if they were fuller now. Little things here and there that even as an adult made it easier to see the bits and pieces of how you used to look. Here he’s been sulking in all his misery and loneliness, and he had completely scared off the chance to have an old best friend back. And Linda said you had tears in your eyes?

Eddie groaned as he let his head sink forward and rest on the center of his steering wheel. He didn’t even care about the horn that permeated the still night around him as self deprecating thoughts swirled before finally letting up on the button. This groan wasn’t a useless cry to the sky over the state of his life like the others so far, but rather a display of anger at himself for being such a dick. And he couldn’t even fix it. He didn’t have your phone number. He didn’t know where you were staying, if you were even staying. Did you move here? Were you just driving through the state and thought to drop by? Maybe have lunch and catch up before leaving again?

Why did he always have to fuck everything up?

You spent a good portion of your weekend sulking until Martha dragged you out on Sunday. You had been eating all the food you brought with you alone in your room and only went outside when you craved your bad habit enough.

“This has to be a violation of a paying customer’s privacy…,” you groaned as you rolled over and shoved your face into your pillow to avoid the light coming in full force from the windows. Martha had unlocked your door and came in to throw the curtains open to pull you out of your post-humiliation funk.

“It’s a beautiful morning. We’re going on a walk to take it all in and I’m taking you to that diner I keep telling you about.”

“I could’ve been naked. What if you came charging in here and I was laying here naked? Neither of us would’ve recovered. And our friendship would be ruined.”

“Oh don’t be so childish,” Martha huffed, hands on her hips. For an older woman she sure could be spritely when she wanted to be—whipping around your room the way she had been and insisting on a journey into the outdoors.

“It’s too cold.”

“Not when we start moving. It’s not even Autumn yet.”

“Technically the first day of Fall has already passed,” you corrected, still face planting your pillow and raising your hand up as you made your point before dropping it back down.

“Well the cold hasn’t reached us yet. I think you’ll survive. Come on, dear, it’ll be good for you. Good for both of us. I’m always cooped up at that desk.”

You sigh, but stay in your bed with all your plans set on sulking until the end of time. Until you were a pile of dust she was vacuuming up so she could get the room ready for someone else. Maybe you were being a tad dramatic, but you still felt that way.

“You want me to wake you up the way Howard did with our daughter? When she wouldn’t get up for high school?”

Now groaning at the thought of that cup of ice cold water trick she told you about, you huff and you finally force yourself up.

Despite your initial refusal to get out of bed, you were glad that Martha made you. It really was a wonderful morning and the smell of fresh air and the sound of the occasional leaf crunching under your feet refreshed you. Even with how deeply you despised being lonely, you had a habit of isolating yourself when you were upset and it could be quite destructive at times when you didn’t have someone to pull you back out of it. She didn’t even force you to discuss Thursday, just kept up casual chit chat like always.

And even if that walk hadn’t been enough to begin lifting your spirits, the food at the diner certainly would’ve done the trick all on its own. It wasn’t the prettiest joint around, but the breakfast was phenomenal. You wondered if she picked up on the fact that food and eating with others was a part of your love language. Being introduced to such an amazing local restaurant that clearly meant a lot to her soothed your aches of rejection and mortification.

Both aspects of the morning Martha forced you to take part in actually helped to improve your mood. What happened still stung but it was less “end of the world” and a little more “bump in the road.” With the fresh air, breakfast food and Martha’s pep talks—you were thinking of your next couple of steps forward rather than all the doom and gloom. You’d attempt to quit all the fast food that only left you more sluggish, and start finding other things to pay attention to. You weren’t giving up on Eddie, but you had to focus on your other needs again. This meant getting out of bed. Eating something other than cheeseburgers and fries, promising Martha you’d get other food Monday.

Well, maybe not Monday. You may have caved again, but you swore the next day. So on that following Tuesday night, you were at the market to pick up some things for you and Martha. There was a small fridge and a cabinet in your room that you could keep things in, and you offered to pick up anything she needed while you were out.

Peanut butter for you, cans of soup for her—oh, actually soup sounded good. With your sudden craving, you grabbed a few more cans. Milk for both of you, as well as cereal. Microwave meals for you, sardines for her—

Oh gross, sardines?

—Could you even stay friends at this revelation? You supposed you could since she let you bother her even with your fast food she couldn’t stand. But this fact wasn’t going anywhere. You were going to give her your best, most dramatic yuck when you gave her her groceries and you would have to insist that she never eats them where you can smell them.

You moved on through the list, and pushed your cart that fought you every step of the way to the bread and baked goods aisle. Why did you always get the cart with the squeaky wheel? The one that stuck every now and then and dragged against the linoleum before finally returning to a squealing roll? Bad luck, you supposed.

Once you were in the aisle, you double checked what brand she requested before letting out a sigh. Of course they were the loaves that were neatly stacked on the top shelf. Notepad paper crushed between your hand and the shelf you were using for support, you stretched up onto your tiptoes as best as you could to grab for one. You could easily grab the pinched end of one and just tug, but you didn’t want to accidentally squish any of them or make any of the others go tumbling. You’re about to step on the bottom shelf when suddenly a hand much larger than yours littered with heavy rings was grabbing it either from you like a dick or for you like a gentleman.

“Still short, huh?” You heard the rough, tired voice say from beside you.

You settled back on your feet and glanced at the man holding out the loaf of bread for you. He was in those dirty coveralls again with the sleeves rolled up, clearly from when he had taken the time to clean his hands and forearms before leaving his shift. His hair was out of its ponytail now so you could see it in all of its chaotic glory. As you accepted his kindness for Martha’s sake, you did your best to tamper your reaction to him being here. Whether it was any excitement over him possibly trying to fix things; or if it was intrigue over how his hair got so long and the fact that he had tattoos now; or if it was irritation leftover from how he treated you last Thursday. Had you still been familiar with one another, and this had been a small spat between friends, you probably would’ve just punched his arm.

“What? Come to yell at me some more?” You mutter. Okay so trying to keep a neutral stance wasn’t going very well.

You hear him exhale a quick sigh at your words and the way you refused to look at him. You had one elbow leaning against your cart now while you put all your focus on toying with the piece of paper in your hands. Folding and unfolding, smoothing out creases, lining up the edges of the paper and fixing the previous fold so everything fits better.

“No,” he replied in a defeated tone, but you still weren’t looking at him. “‘N I’m sorry about that, okay? Just wasn’t expecting it, and it’s not like you’re 9 anymore.”

“So I’m guessing you recognize me now?”

“A little, yeah,” He tried to be playful, a small smile tugging on his features until you looked up at him with that sad expression and he was deflated again. “Joke. Bad joke, I- of course I recognize you, Critter.”

You failed in your attempt to not smile at the nickname you hadn’t heard in far too long, making Eddie straighten out his posture again at the sight of your lips curving up.

“You still don’t have a poker face. That right there?” He points at your smile, while his own pulled at his lips “That’s how I won all of your best candy bars on Halloween.”

“You never really kept them from me,” You countered, head tilting back to fully look up at him now and your smile a little more sure.

“Of course not. Cause I’m a sucker and you can get whatever you want with a pout,” He laughed and you grew bashful as your cheeks flushed, ducking your head back down to try and hide it.

“Here,” Eddie sighed after a beat, digging into his pocket and pulling out a bracelet to drop in your palm.

Figuring he was returning yours to you, you were confused when you didn’t see your usual mix of beads. Your brows stayed knit together until you recognized those red, blue and black beads and the nickname in the center. Your features softened as you held out your hand for him to drop it into.

L-O-O-G-I-E

“You kept it…?” you murmured as you stared at the plastic bracelet like it’s treasure, before looking up at him again while your fingers brushed over the beads.

“Obviously,” he replied bluntly, pointing at it.

“Completely tore my place apart to find it so I could prove it, too. Not that my place is the neatest to start with, but…,” he let out a light laugh, head tilting and lazy smile tugging at one side of his mouth. He still smiled the same.

You eyed him for a moment, then returned your focus to the old jewelry. You felt oddly reserved with him after his initial reaction to your appearance at his work, and all the time you spent apart. You never had to work up the courage to speak to him before, or think about what to say or how to say it.

“10.”

“…Hm?”

“I was 10 years old. You said I wasn’t exactly 9 anymore, but it was actually a few weeks out from my birthday when you had to leave.”

“I guess that’s true, huh?” Eddie sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Why were his arms so fit? And veiny? And why do you have to tilt your head back to see his face now? Ugh, you’re starting to feel like that young girl who read her first romance novel and was developing her first crushes.

“Yeah…,” you say simply, fearing you’ll make a fool of yourself if you try to say more.

“I’m sorry that all happened around your birthday.”

He was so sincere when he said it, but it made your eyes grow wide as you looked up at his face again.

“Oh god– no. No, no, no. Don’t apologize. That’s not how I meant that at all. You-- that wasn’t your fault. And it was worse for you than it was for me, for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, with the convict dad and all. But it’s a real shame…,” he sighs with feigned disappointment. “Y’know… that you couldn’t kiss me on your birthday.”

That evil grin sunk his dimples into his cheeks and he sucked on his teeth while he clasped his hands behind his back. Your eyes might as well have been popping out of your skull at this point, your whole face heating up.

“I— you— how— oh, you dick!” you gasp at the revelation through all of your sputtering and punch his shoulder without even thinking, and certainly not noticing the elderly woman who huffed at your unladylike behavior before scuttling away. “You read my diary!”

“Yeah, well, you really should’ve gotten the kind that came with a lock.”

“So you don’t recognize me, but you remember a journal entry you shouldn’t have read? Great, that’s great, Eddie.”

You were turning around now, starting to push your cart towards the other end of the aisle. Roll. Squeak. Maybe it was time to head back to Ohio? Maybe you didn’t need such an obnoxious little shit back in your life. Drag. Roll. Squeak.

“I said I was sorry for not recognizing you,” he groaned and followed after you. “How much groveling am I gonna have to do?”

Oh, plenty. Plenty of groveling.

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