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ktgoodmorning · 2 months

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Drunk and not in love

Patri Guijarro x reader

You and Patri have always hated each other, but can copious amount of alcohol change that?

Masterlist

You weren’t sure how it had even started but for as long as you could remember, you and Patri were always at each other’s throats. At this point, your anger for each other was more of a habit than anything else. The two of you had grown up playing on the national team together so everyone knew it would be no different when you moved to Barcelona. At this point, the rest of the team had gotten used to your constant attitudes towards each other.

Both of you were professional enough to not let it affect your playing, knowing you actually played quite well together. Somehow the link up between you was always seamless. It was because of this, that the rest of the team usually let it go when you would get on each other’s nerves.

When not playing against a common enemy, you were constantly going at each other. In training, you’d deliver tackles on her with a bit more aggression than you would to any other teammate while she would often be giving you harsh words on how you weren’t doing something right.

It bothered you how the older woman was always acting like she was better than you, despite having a very similar skill level. Why was it okay for her to get on your case for every little mistake? So you’d always return her words with even harsher ones, or at times, a nudge against her shoulder as you’d walk away. The two of you always had some sort of complaint against each other and the rest of the team had learned to ignore it.

Nobody quite understood where the animosity between you had stemmed from, including you and Patri. To everyone else, the two of you seemed like you should be best friends. You were extremely similar- always joking around, fiercely loyal, constantly looking for a good time, and extremely serious on the pitch. Your friends had tried many times to figure it out, hoping you could somehow make amends, but always failing. You ran in all the same circles, so eventually your friends learned to look past it. As long as you could both be around each other and be civil enough to not ruin the night, they could deal with the constant eye rolls you threw at each other.

It was after training when Claudia threw her arm around your shoulders as you made your way to the locker room. “You gotta come with us, we’ve got some time off so we can have some real fun tonight. It’ll be me, Mapi,, Mario, Patri-”

“Ugghhhh, why does she have to be there?”

“Stop it,” she layed a light smack against the side of your head. “You need to get over it. She’s our friend too and you need to learn to get along. You’re coming with.”

You knew that Claudia was right. Even if you didn’t like Patri, you needed to get better at ignoring her and just having fun with the rest of your friends. “Alright I’m in, but-”

The younger girl cut you off by attacking you in an excited hug, “Yes! I told Mapi you’d come!”

“But, I’m gonna need a lot of drinks to make it through without killing somebody so you better be buying.” You gave your best friend a smirk, knowing she’d have no problem agreeing to this deal. Claudia gave you another smile, eager to have a night out with all of you later that evening.

You arrived at the club with Claudia by your side. The two of you were the first ones to arrive and were more than happy to start your night with a couple shots before anyone else came. You settled into a booth across from her, each holding a shot in one hand and a drink in the other.

“You know I don’t know what your guys’ problem is, you’re basically the same person.” Your best friend shrugged at you, knowing you had had this conversation a million times before and had never made any progress.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Claudia, she’s always hated me, and I’m not gonna let her say shit to me without defending myself.”

“But do you really think she hates you that much? You’re telling me it’s all about you defending yourself and none of it is you having an issue with her? Clearly you do!”

Suddenly, Mapi slid into the booth next to you, followed closely by Mariona and Patri. “Clearly you do what?”

“Clearly she-”

“Nothing!” You awkwardly cut Claudia off before she could tell everyone how you had been discussing your relationship with Patri, hoping to change the subject. “Pina, don’t you have drinks you’re supposed to be buying me?”

At this, your best friend gave you a wink, seeing right through you, before going with Mapi to get more drinks for everyone.

“So what, you’re just letting Pina buy all your drinks tonight?” You looked up to see Patri glaring at you, scoffing at your lack of immediate response.

All you could do was roll your eyes, “Well if I’m gonna spend the whole night with you here, I can only hope I drink enough to not remember it tomorrow.” Your voice was dripping in irritation, frustrated at how quickly she decided to sour your night. Why couldn’t she just let you be?

Patri’s eyebrows raised, somehow surprised at your quip back at her, but just as she opened her mouth to respond, the rest of your friends returned with plenty of shots for everyone.

“We got everyone shots, plus… extras for our two favorite enemies!” A smirk was plastered across Mapi’s face, as she and Claudia set one shot down in front of everyone, two in front of both you and Patri. You rolled your eyes as all your friends giggled, but deep down, you couldn’t have been more grateful for the extra alcohol to help you through the night.

After you had downed a few more drinks, you all made your way to the dance floor. Ever since the drink comment, you and Patri had managed to successfully ignore each other. If you couldn’t get along, at least the silence was better than the constant fighting.

The alcohol being constantly pushed on you by your friends, certainly was doing its job, loosening you up more than usual. Your hips were swaying against whoever was closest to you, usually Claudia. The two of you lived for nights like this, finally being able to have fun and forget about all the other stress in your life. Your body fueled by the music (and alcohol) coursing through you, you jumped around somewhat aimlessly, stumbling slightly at times, always being caught by one of your friends.

You didn’t even notice when you stumbled backwards slightly, straight into Patri, allowing her to steady you with her hands on your waist. Your three friends all shared a look, worried that the older woman would snap at you for falling into her. Nothing could have surprised them more than when Patri, still holding you tightly, laughed.

You looked at her over your shoulder and joined her giggles, immediately returning to your dancing. It was as if you didn’t even notice who it was who had their hands on your waist as you smiled at her.

Your response was something they’d expect from you if you’d fallen into Pina, or Mario, or anyone else besides Patri, but this- this made no sense. The other girls all shared another look, this time more confused than anything else. Maybe they had gotten both of you more drunk than they realized? There’s no way all it took for you to be civil was alcohol. But here you were and nobody was about to question it, in fear of it ending when you both realized what you were doing.

You were in your own little world, just having fun with whoever was closest. It didn’t matter that the person you were dancing against was your sworn enemy, if she was willing to join you, you were willing to let it happen. When you both realized you were okay with what was happening between you, the older woman’s hands pulled you in closer to her, still holding you by the hips. You let your head fall back onto her shoulder, relaxing into her touch, as you continued to grind into her front. Patri made eye contact as you looked back at her, greeting you with more smiles, clearly both enjoying your current position. Your hand snaked around to the back of her neck, holding her even closer for you to plant a brief kiss to the side of her jaw, before continuing the movement of your hips. She must not have minded the contact as she too continued her actions, enjoying this newfound time with you.

You continued like this for a while, neither of you bothered by what was going on, just enjoying yourselves like you would if you were with anybody else. The two of you were only separated when another random drunk person staggered into you, causing Patri to let go of you in order to keep the stranger from fully falling onto you.

Once the person had been moved by friends of their own, you turned back to the midfielder, giving her yet another smile. She returned the gesture, both of you remaining wordless. It was as if neither of you wanted to address what had just happened, too stubborn to admit how much you’d enjoyed each other’s presence. Too scared to fully trust each other after a lifetime of disrespect.

All you could do was give her a slight nod of acknowledgement before going back to find Claudia. Your body needed a break from the dance floor and you knew your best friend had a tendency of getting carried away on nights out, so it wouldn’t hurt to check on her. You didn’t realize much time you had spent with Patri until you checked your watch and saw how late it was. In that time, Pina had clearly found some more drinks and was now just as drunk as you.

Everyone knew that when you were this drunk together, you became a dangerous (and annoying) combination, only encouraging each other to get crazier and crazier. As soon as Mariona saw the two of you, laughing obnoxiously at the bar, ordering yet another drink, she was quick to order you an Uber, knowing that the sooner you went home, the better it’d be for everyone.

She tried to pull you both up and coax you towards the door but neither of you were in the mood to listen, still just giggling and fighting back against her, wanting to stay. “Mariooo, why do you have to kill all the fun,” you whined as you both pouted up at her, only somewhat coherent. Suddenly Mapi and Patri both joined her efforts, all knowing they didn’t want to handle you any longer than they had to.

Now being three against two, they successfully pulled you out of the club, just as your Uber was pulling up. Mapi and Mariona had taken to helping get Pina in the backseat as she was much worse off than you, leaving Patri to make sure you got in okay. You welcomed her touch as she placed her arm around your waist, making sure you wouldn’t trip. If this had been any other time, you would’ve preferred she left you for dead before allowing her to lay a hand on you. But for some reason, right now you leaned into it, comforted by the way she was pressed into your side.

As soon as you were seated, she leaned over you to buckle your seatbelt and Pina immediately took advantage of the opportunity. “Patri aren’t you gonna kiss your new girlfriend goodnight before we go?” Her comment threw the both of you into a fit of drunken giggles, making you miss the way the older woman rolled her eyes in annoyance before shutting the car door.

Once you and Claudia were alone in the backseat, she continued her teasing towards you. “What was with all the dancing huh? I’m surprised you didn’t fuck right on the dance floor with how close you were. Did you forget how much you hate her or what?” You could hardly make out her words as she slurred through them, constantly interrupting herself to laugh at her own jokes.

You tuned her out as your best friend continued talking, mostly to herself, all the way back to your shared apartment. It was hard for you to make sense of what had gone on tonight, but then again, did you really need to? Maybe this would be the start of a newfound friendship or maybe you’d just be able to coexist without killing each other. You’d have to wait and see. You still didn’t really like her, she’d said a lot of crappy things to you over the years and it was hard to just let that go. But you were willing to try to keep an open mind- give her a chance at being civil if she was willing to do the same.

Evidently, it appeared Patri was not willing to do the same. You had training just a few days after your night out, finally recovered from your hangovers. Your memory from the night was quite clear and kept playing in the back of your mind as you made your way to the locker room. Would she even remember it? What if she wanted to talk about it? One thing you knew for sure was that you had no desire to talk about it. Either you’d be friends now that you had managed to get past your initial hatred, or you’d go back to the way you were used to being. Talking was not in your plans.

Luckily, talking didn’t seem to be in Patri’s either. You were so lost in thought that you walked straight into her just before reaching the locker room. It wasn’t hard, she was definitely fine. You had just managed to hit shoulders while she stood talking to Alexia.

The sudden contact broke you from your thoughts but just as you turned to apologize, Patri beat you to it. “Can you watch where you’re fucking going!?” The way she snapped so aggressively had you shocked. After she literally had you grinding against her all night, she was still going to act like this?

The anger in you burned deeper than it had before, only growing after her sudden change in attitude towards you. “Seriously!? You’re gonna say that right now!? Should I remind you that-” you were cut off by the locker room door slamming in your face as she left you in the hallway, mid-sentence.

You clenched your fists and tried to take a deep breath before looking to Claudia for guidance. All she offered you was a dramatic shrug of her shoulders, apparently just as lost and confused as you were. You sighed heavily, realizing that you were exactly where you started with her- still ready to kill each other.

Apparently the alcohol couldn’t fix the problems between you after all.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Masterlist

Feedback and requests are always welcome!

#barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #fcb femini #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso #patri guijarro imagine #patri guijarro #patri guijarro x reader #wosoreadingpatri #wosoreading24/7

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month

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Congratulations on 3k! Really enjoy your drabbles and fics :)

"Who cares if it was meant to be or not?"

Thank you so much!

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

The band took the stage a few minutes late. Eddie had gone missing shortly before their final warning, and they can’t exactly perform without their lead guitarist.

When he was found, he’d been crying, but he brushed it off like it was nothing, said he was good to go.

He wasn’t. He had one of the worst shows of his life. Not a great look for a band trying to get a headlining tour.

No one said anything after; Eddie was already upset enough. With himself, with someone else, maybe both.

Eventually, Jeff couldn’t take the moping.

“Alright, man. You wanna tell us what’s going on? We just had a pretty shitty show and you look like you’re ready to have a breakdown,” he said as he sat next to Eddie on the couch of their tour bus.

“Sorry. Um. Sorry guys. Just. Had it out with Steve earlier.”

“Is-“ Gareth started to ask. “Are you guys okay now? Did you call him after?”

“No. No, I don’t think he wants me to.”

Everyone stared at Eddie in disbelief. Sure, they teased him all the time for falling for the jock stereotype, but they were perfect for each other. Everyone who knew them knew that.

“Why not?”

“Some things just aren’t meant to be, Gare.”

“No! Fuck that! Who cares if it was meant to be or not?” Gareth paced the floor. “You guys are so good together. You’re like a damn romance novel or something. Like those stupid chick flicks.”

“Gareth.” Jeff’s tone got his attention, but Eddie didn’t look up. “It’s not our business.”

“Like hell it isn’t. He just played like shit! We deserve to know why.”

Eddie stood up and walked to his bunk.

“Good job, idiot,” Grant rolled his eyes and followed.

“I’m calling Steve,” Gareth said. “Something’s gotta be done.”

“Dude, just leave it. They’ll either work it out or they won’t.”

“And if they don’t, Eddie’s gonna be like this forever.” Gareth pulled his cell phone from his pocket and opened his text thread with Steve. “If it’s so bad, Steve will ignore me.”

Hey call me

Not now

Please Eddie’s a fuckin mess

Gareth’s phone started ringing. He smirked up at Jeff, who walked away with his hands crossed over his chest.

“Steve.”

“Is Eddie okay?”

“No. What happened? We just had the shittiest show-“

“But is he okay?”

“No! What happened before the show?”

He could hear Steve sniffle.

“I just. It’s hard. It’s hard being here and he’s never here. And I know that’s what we agreed was best for this tour, but it’s hard. And he keeps saying he misses me and it hurts because what am I supposed to do?” Steve was crying now, Gareth was fighting his own tears. “So I told him to do something about it earlier and he told me he couldn’t and it turned into us arguing about his priorities and I didn’t even mean that I thought the band was more important than me, it just sucks. It’s hard.”

“Steve, I get it man. I mean, I don’t. But I know it’s hard. For both of you. Did you-“ Gareth bit his lip. “Did you break up?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Can you unbreak up?”

“Maybe. But-“

“Gareth, who is that?” Eddie’s voice asked from the curtain to the bunk beds. His eyes were red, tear tracks not even dry on his cheeks. “Is that Steve?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie came over and sat next to Gareth, grabbing the phone from him.

“Steve?” He sounded broken. “Are you okay?”

Gareth got up and went back to the bunks.

“The fuck did you do?” Jeff asked.

“Fixed it. You’re both welcome,” Gareth got in bed and smiled as he heard Eddie laugh.

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

The next night was better.

The night after that, Steve was standing backstage, wearing Eddie’s vest and singing along to the songs.

And every night after that, and on their first headlining tour, and their next one, and their next one, Steve was there for most nights.

Eddie gave his everything because he had his everything.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #temporary breakup #sorry this got angsty #but happy endings only in this house

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teeny-tiny-revenge · 3 months

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It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)

After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.

It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.

Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)

DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.

OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:

Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!

Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!

Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!

Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.

Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.

Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!

... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.

So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!

I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)

I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.

Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):

It plays Gnossienne N°5!

More crappy pics of my other disc menus:

Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)

#piracy ho!#ofmd #teeny rambles #ofmd dvds

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mccoyquialisms · 2 months

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More bits from the 1st night of the London D20 live show that brought me joy:

The little “ooooohhhhHHHH” bit everyone in the atrium did as they were rolling the bingo cages for their characters

How NUTS everyone went when Lou got Fabian and everyone started chanting “hoot growl”

A second, just as loud cheer when Siobhan got Adaine and her and Lou ran around the stage together

Siobhan, unprompted: “GIVE ADAINE A GUN!”

Emily has apparently named a stray cat after Plug <3

Sydney straight up eating the ground (it’s ice cream, she’s fine. Sort of.)

“It’s a smell so counter to everything human life needs, in a way that almost kills you, but also, only in a way someone from New York can understand, makes you proud.”

The party refusing to call the candy wyverns anything other than “bugs”

Zac interrupting the ongoing banter to announce Skip is already boarded and sucking on the saddle of the wyvern

“I throw a flash grenade.” “I turn into a giant pigeon.” “I cast unseen servant to untie him.” “I shoot a guard.” “Okay, so everyone decides to do something SUPER SUBTLE.”

I mentioned it before but it’s SO good: “the DC is 500. Only a Nat 20 will do it.” Beardsley: [rolls a Nat 20 first try] [pandemonium in the arena]

“Have you seen Succession?”

The gabagool 🤌

“Adaine, we have saved the world multiple times. These are the scariest people we have ever met.”

Lou losing it at Sydney’s grenade having 1 point of poison damage in addition to all the bludgeoning damage

Skip gives Fabian a laser gun. He does not know what it is until he shoots Calroy with it

“Adaine, this gun thing you’re on? I get it.”

Cocaine Bear

“I YEETED YOU!”

Pete and Skip instant besties. Pete and Fabian instant enemies.

“You named him Anus and now I just have to do it the rest of the show!”

“I absolutely hate to add insult to injury…” “THEN DON’T!”

Adaine passing her wisdom save by 1 point to prevent Kugrash’s polymorph spell from turning her into a rat

The absolute ROAR that went up when Skip transformed into Lapin

“Anus?” “Not today.” “Not today WHAT?”

“I thought I was just on another planet starting a revolution I don’t intend to stick around for.” “America!”

Ally confidentially declaring Lapin and Aguefort have swinger vibes

“Do you want to just take him?” “Do you mean in the biblical sense?” “Another exciting use….”

[croaky voice] butterfly in the skyyyy

Pete opening 6 different flavors of seltzer while the rest of the party does kublacaine

Elaine Lee in the house!!!

Kugrash the greatest chaperone who ever lived

Lapin and Aguefort…and they were roommates…..Lapin’s “how do I look?” before they go into the egg fortress lmao

Syd’s perfume missile dealing 68 points of damage to Fabian and instantly knocking him unconscious. “Are you rolling D20s for damage???”

“I’m going to use my tides of chaos to reroll….worse.”

Tina the butterfly familiar that everyone totally remembers

“Well shit, any house where we kill the people in it becomes our house.”

Pete dissing Fabian so hard he feels the toxic masculinity coming back

Lapin requesting an exam extension for Adaine and Fabian from Arthur via dating app

The collective psychic damage everyone took from the “yar har har” scene

“Pete just starts dancing with a scarf in a way no one else has seen before.” “That’s my fucking thing!!!”

Sydney just enabling every pvp encounter alsdkghsdg. Giving Fabian unlimited capacity to his gun as he’s shooting Pete, with Fabian hitting twice and criting once.

“I can pleasure you or throw grenades, you gotta pick one.” “The first one, obviously!” “Okay!”

Lapin, Adaine and Kugrash chain smoking in the corner suffering through the pain of existence while the rest of party goes nuts around them

Murph incorporating the words “come/coming” as much as possible into Kugrash’s farewell speech while Brennan mimes Gilear’s enormous dick behind him. Not even Fabian’s battle sheet is enough to conceal that hog

“That’s right, I’m the king. And then I jump into the dumpster.”

GILEAR…MY…..OLD FRIEND………Aguefort and Gilear fwb real

“Not another person with their penis frozen to the walk in!”

#dimension 20 live #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 live #dropout #my musings #time quangle

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kt-the-lee · 4 months

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No Longer Ruined - Hazbin Hotel Tickle Fic (HuskerDust)

A/N hi everyone!! this is my first fanfic on this account, i used to write a fair bit on my old deactivated account but I stopped for a couple years so i’m a little bit rusty, but i just love these two so much that i simply HAD to write for them! (this was also really self-indulgent for me to write so i hope you enjoy AHHHHH)

inspired by this post by @duckymcdoorknob : “We interrupt our usual programming to bring forth Angel Dust who is terrified of being tickled (bc of Val) until Husk shows him that it doesn’t have to always be torturous.”

Lee!AngelDust, Ler!Husk

warnings: very brief mentions of Angel’s job (not very much detail but important context to the story), sad!Angel

Word count: 2,133

One thing about Angel Dust is that he HATED being tickled.

Well, that wasn’t a complete truth. It was his favourite thing in the world once upon a time, but then it got ruined by various jobs that Val made him undergo. And that did make him quite sad, he wished he could have it in his life again, but he feared it was associated with one too many bad memories at this point.

And now, the thought of it terrified him.

This was made all too apparent when Charlie (the resident tickle monster of the Hazbin Hotel) decided to attack Vaggie in the middle of the lobby one afternoon. This was a regular occurrence, and everyone usually watched fondly as the usually stoic Vaggie let herself laugh (that is until the tables turned and Charlie then gets absolutely destroyed, she may initiate most tickle fights but usually ends up spectacularly losing them!). However, this was the first time Angel had witnessed this spectacle.

And he just couldn’t bring himself to watch.

The laughs mixed with screams, the squirming, the panicked breathing, it just sent him to a dark place. Where the masses chuckled and cooed at the girlfriends’ antics, Angel felt his breathing hitch and an unpleasant anxiety building in his stomach. Tears pricked in his eyes and he tried to inconspicuously leave the room, unnoticed. Or so he thought.

“Hey, what’s up, you okay?”

Angel turned around and saw Husk, head tilted, a concerned look on his face. Panic shot through him; “oh shit, did everyone notice me leave? That must’ve looked REALLY fucking weird, how am I going to explain-”

“Relax, nobody else saw you go,” Husk said gently, sitting on a nearby couch and directed Angel to take the place next to him. “Everyone was far too distracted watching those dumbasses wreck each other, although it’s a frequent occurrence it does never get boring!” he chuckled as the laughter from the lobby turned up a notch, but then frowned when he saw Angel visibly flinch at the sound.

“I’ve… never seen ‘em do this before,” he explained as he took the seat next to Husk, tensing up slightly as a paw was placed around his shoulders but immediately relaxed. He trusted Husk, perhaps more than anyone in this godforesaken place. But could he explain this?

Husk looked at the spider with concern in his eyes. He was triggered, clearly, but he couldn’t quite piece together why the girls tickling each other had caused this.

“Do you wanna talk about it, Angel? We don’t gotta, but you know I’d never judge you for anything. We’re both losers, don’t ya forget that, so nothing is off-limits.”

Angel looked up at the cat, debating for a full minute as to whether he was going to indulge. However, as he heard Charlie squeal from the room over from them and physically had to hide his head in his hands, he figured an explanation was desrved.

“I… just…” he stuttered, trying to find the words. “They’ve been ruined for me.”

Husk looked slightly confused. “What have? Tickles?”

“Yeah… there was a week-long shoot a few years back, and it always got taken too far. Lotta ignoring of safewords and not stopping even though I begged and begged and begged, my body felt like it was going to shut down-“ Angel shuddered as he remembered. “I’ve done a lot of weird shit for this job, Husk, ya know? And you know I love to relinquish control. But this, by far, was the one time I felt the most trapped and suffocated.”

The usually stoic Husk felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. Sure, tickling was torturous, that was the POINT. But it was also supposed to have an aspect of fun and trust and love behind it, and the fact that Val had taken that from him made him both upset and absolutely fuming.

“Fuck me, that’s intense.” Husk couldn’t find the words for awhile. “And also fully understandable as to why you’d be triggered now.”

A scream and a giggly “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEERE” from Charlie in the other room made Angel tense somehow harder than he was before, and Husk tightened his hold around his shoulders.

“If it’s any reassurance, the girls’ dumba ass tickle fights are nothing like that, there’s a lot of silliness and love behind it and it would never ever get taken that far” said Husk, trying to reassure the spider. “Infact, I’m fairly sure they both love every second of it, no matter how much they protest in the moment.”

“Oh I know that, really I do.” said Angel. “ I know what they’re MEANT to be like, it’s like I said, they were ruined for me.”

Oh?

So that meant…

“You used to like being tickled?” Husk enquired, a slight grin in his voice as he enjoyed the thought of his sweet spider enjoying something so silly. That thought was fleeting as he realised how that was no longer true because of his job, and Val. God. the things he could do to that bastard for breaking Angel like this…

Angel nodded, cheeks burning slightly. “A whole lot, used to ask Cherry for it all the time. But I fear I’m too far gone now, I’m too scared it’ll go too far and people won’t stop.” Angel sighed, and flinched again as the laughter somehow got EVEN LOUDER through the walls (what on EARTH was Vaggie doing to Charlie?). “I want to like it again, I do think about it a lot still.”

“We can try now, if you like?”

Husk looked into Angel’s eyes to gauge his reaction. He couldn’t tell by that one sentence if he had just put the fear of god into him, or hit the nail on the head with exactly the best way to fix this.

Angel couldn’t tell, either. On the one hand, the thought of being tickled again terrified him. He had managed to avoid it as much as he could outside of work, and even in work he would try and steer the content towards other things. However, he knew deep down that he wanted this back in his life. He trusted Husk, so maybe this would be the perfect way to ease back into it? He deliberated, and made his decision.

“Yeah… okay.”

Husk breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t overstepped a boundary, and felt the grin returning to his face as he figured out the best way to do this.

“Anything I should know before we try this out? Now is the time for boundaries, my little spider-” said Husk, a teasing tone already etched into his voice which made Angel chuckle and roll his eyes.

“Stop when I tell you to-“

“That’s a given, dumbass, I was gonna do that anyway.”

That made Angel relax, he wasn’t used to people listening to his pleas. Maybe this would actually be okay…

“Oh… okay! Uhhhh, no foot stuff please, that was always Val’s… yeah. Favourite. So that’d probably send me into a panic.”

He thought for a second.

“Otherwise…. youregoodtogo-“ he mumbled as he buried his face in Husk’s chest, preparing himself. Oh god, what if this was a bad idea? What if he just hated it no matter what? What if he yelled at or hurt Husk? What if-

All thoughts in his head were silenced as the paw that was placed on his shoulder began to walk ever-so-gently around his bicep. Husk traced his entire upper arm slowly and delicately, before moving all the way round to where Angel’s underarm met his ribcage.

“This okay?”

Angel could only nod, a trace of a smile forming on his lips as Husk began to lightly scritch the spot. Nothing too intense, nothing that would overhelm him. But it couldn’t be ignored.

Husk felt the spider tense up below him as he used one claw to dance lazy, gentle circles around Angel’s ribcage. He glanced down to make sure he was okay, but it seemed to be more of a tickly flinch than an uncomfortable jerk away, so he persisted, adding more claws to slowly intensify the sensation.

It was then that he heard it.

The giggles.

And it was just the sweetest sound Husk had ever heard.

In fact, he got so distracted by the sound of Angel’s giggles that he subconsciously stopped tickling him to listen. Which, of course, stopped the giggles.

“Hey, ya didn’t need to stop!” said Angel, surprising himself.

“Oh I know… I just got distracted by something” chuckled Husk, beginning the movement of his claws again, as slow and as gentle as before. Angel tensed and giggled again, but didn’t seem to be protesting too much.

Angel had missed this. He had missed being in a safe place where he was free to be held and just let someone dote on him for a bit. Head empty, no control, no expectations, to just relax and feel happy. He couldn’t help his arm flinching against Husks gentle tickles around his ribcage, but he also noticeably lent into both Husk himself and his paws on his ribs.

Husk took this positive body language and gentle giggles to turn it up a notch, scratching with slightly more intent and pressure, making wigging motions with his paw. He also walked his fingers down from Angel’s ribcage to the sides of his stomach.

The spider’s gentle giggles quickly became slightly louder laughs as Husk did this, and initially felt a zap of panic. However, it was impossible to feel unsafe in the arms of the cat, so he let himself feel the sensations. It wasn’t TOO intense, but it was certainly enough for him to squirm and cackle, especially when Husk added a second paw to mirror his actions on the opposite side at the same time.

“Hehehehehey!!” laughed Angel. “Thahahahat was uncahahahahalled for!!”

“Oh was it now?” teased Husk, feeling a little more confident that he wouldn’t end up overwhelming Angel at this point. “Because I don’t hear you protesting, baby. Infact, I’d probably say you’re having a pretty swell time right now!”

“Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup” protested Angel, cheeks burning redder than the skies of Hell itself. “Teheheheasing mahahahahakes it wOHOHOHORSE-“

Upon the last word of his sentence, Husk moved both of his tickling paws to the front of his stomach, spidering the spider’s belly like there was no tomorrow. Angel SQUEALED, throwing his head back into Husk’s shoulder as he tried and failed to whine about quite how mean he was being right now.

Despite this, there was one thing that Angel couldn’t deny. Fucking hell, he could never deny how much he’d missed this. To be able to enjoy being tickled again without the fear of boundaries being disrespected and his every part of his body panicking as strangers took advantage of him, under Val’s perverted instruction.

“You doing okay down there?!” Husk chuckled, checking in as Angel arched his back and fell backwards onto the couch. Husk had one paw kneading into an armpit whilst the other made various shapes into his tummy. This seemed to be a killer combination as Angel snorted in his cackles and basically folded his body in half.

The cat slowed his attack to let Angel catch his breath, which may have been perfect timing as the spider managed to breathe out a “Stohohop nohohoho mohohore” through his depleting giggles. This made Husk briefly panic, thinking he had took it too far and this had all been for nothing. But the persistent grin and sniling eyes of Angel reassured him that he hadn’t put a foot wrong. Or, rather, a paw wrong.

“Thahahahat was fun” said Angel, residual giggles still pouring from his mouth as he sat himself up, rubbing the leftover tickly feelings away from his torso. “Might take a few goes and a bit of practice, but it certainly is an improvement to fifteen minutes ago!”

Husk felt his heart melt as Angel cuddled back into him and, as the room silenced, the laughter from Charlie and Vaggie’s ordeal STILL could be heard through the walls. However, now it made Angel smile fondly as opposed to being terrified for his life.

“How are they STILL going?” pondered Husk, shaking his head fondly at the sounds from the other room

Angel shrugged, and laughed as he heard Charlie let out a noise not too dissimilar to a squeal that he himself had produced moments earlier. “Shall we go and observe?”

Husk grinned and nodded, tweaking Angel’s side before taking his hand. Angel flinched and tutted at the cat, but couldnt hide the endearing look in his eyes as they ventured back into the lobby to observe the girlfriends tickle fight.

It certainly was a happy day in Hell.

#hazbin tickles #hazbin hotel tickle #lee!angeldust #ler!husk #tickle community #sfw tickle #sfw tickle community #sfw tickling #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #huskerdust tickles #tickles #tickle #sfw tk community #sfw tk blog

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ghouljams · 11 months

Note

So glad I’m finally getting notifications!! I go through your blog like it’s the morning paper 💕

Happy belated 4th of July!!🦅 It’s the only day out of the year I’m patriotic lol. May I ask how crazy our cowboys got for the holiday??

It is a recent but honored Price family tradition that Soap and Goose almost burn down the barn every fourth. This is Ghost's first year seeing it actually happen.

"I assume you're both tired of having 10 fingers," Simon tells you nice and even, watching you and Soap tie cakes and mortars together.

"Haven't lost one yet," Soap responds at the same time you remind Simon,

"We've got a bucket of water nearby."

"Look we're at least a hundred extra feet from the barn this year, I've got a nice long fuse, nobody is losing any fingers." Soap nods, you nod.

"If you set the barn on fire again you're going on probation." Price gripes sitting back in his lawn chair. You give an affronted gasp and he nods solemnly, "both of you, shit mucking for the next month."

"I am your pride and joy!" You tell him.

"You're a fire hazard," you dad tells you, smoking a cigar on the edge of your safety perimeter. You don't think he fails to see the irony in that statement, but you do think he chooses to ignore it.

"I think it's a deserved punishment," Simon nods, Soap at least has the decency to glare at him for agreeing.

"We're not gonna catch the bard on fire, we've got plennae of room." Soap twists the last of the fuses together and inspects his work. "Somebody get Gaz out of the house, he's going to miss the show."

"Think that's the point," Simon mumbles as you go to drag your last guest off the porch.

"You're both insane," Gaz gripes, putting up more of a fight than you'd thought.

"Quit being a baby, nobody's ever been exploded before." You tell him, enjoying the noise Gaz makes at your joke.

"Ha ha, you're so funny," Gaz drags his feet as you tug him closer to the lawn chairs, "people die Goose, people die every year because of shit like that," he points at your explosive pyre.

"And yet you always have fun when we do this," you roll your eyes, pushing him down into the seat you'd put out for him.

"I really do," he settles into the lawn chair and takes the offered beer from your dad. You're pretty sure Gaz only puts up a fight to pretend so he can pretend he wasn't a cheering party when something unintended catches on fire.

"Alright everyone back up, I'm lighting this beauty." Soap announces, you grab Simon's hand and drag him back to the lawn chairs, sitting him down next to Gaz. His hands grab for your hips to pull you into his lap.

"Watch those hands Lieutenant," your dad barks. Simon's hands fly away from you, raised by his head like Daddy might point a gun at him to enforce the rule.

"I gotta be on stand by with the water anyway," you whisper to Simon, "but maybe I'll knock later?" He smiles behind his mask, eyes narrowing just enough to tell you what you already knew as he takes your hand in his.

"Doors always open." There's unspoken "for you" that settles between you two. Simon presses your knuckles against his mask, gentle and affectionate. He doesn't let anyone else into his private space as readily as he does you. Even Soap still knocks.

Speaking of Soap. The man of the hour strikes a hot match and lights the first fuse, jogging over to safety with the rest of you. He gives you a thumbs up.

The first mortar ignights and shoots a stream of blue into the sky. The loud bang-pop of the explosion echoing in your ribs. The flower of sparks fizzles and another shoots up behind it. Then a cake goes off and sparks fly like feathers shoot a high train that almost instantly ignights the next mortar to send more pops into the sky. Another jet of purple sparks from the cake sets off a Roman candle. The 'tump' of it shooting flares up is offset by the crackling of another fuse burning and-

"That's not supposed to happen," Soap mumbles, watching two more mortars and another Roman candle light.

The five of you watch solemnly as a flare from the Roman candle soars over your heads and onto the roof of the barn. Simon drops your hand as you watch the sparks try to catch on the tar, short bursts of flame lighting up the roof. Your dad sighs and dials the fire department as Gaz runs for the hose.

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 6 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 5 - Grumpy vs. Sunshine

pairing: pre-steddie | word count: 830 | rated: T

“Ugh this is the worst, why is everyone playing Christmas music already? First Melvald’s, then Johnston’s record store, now even the damn arcade is playing this god-awful music.” Eddie grouses, flinging a hand toward the ceiling in general.

“Oh, I see,” Steve laughs, following slowly behind their herd of nerds at Eddie’s side, “It’s fine if I decorate my whole house already, but god forbid anyone else start celebrating?”

“Duh.”

“And why’s that?”

“‘Cause I actually like you, obviously.”

Steve’s heart squeezes in his chest, but he continues to rile up the other man. “Got it, got it; so you don’t like the record store anymore? Don’t like the arcade anymore?”

“I see where you’re going with this and I’m not falling for it. Yes Stevie, Johnston’s and Hawkins’ only arcade have fallen completely out of favor with I, Eddie Munson, for the rest of my days.”

“Okay, so leave.” Steve deadpans, having expected this outcome.

“Also, a declaration like that only works with your full name, Eddie.” Dustin calls back to them.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up you dork.” Eddie waves him off, then changes gears, “So, Steven, what frivolities shall we partake in whilst our hellions engage in their own chaos?”

Steve huffs a laugh, “Okay, okay, hold on, give me a second to try and figure that one out.” he says, pretending to sort through Eddie’s words as if he hasn’t spent enough time around the lot of them to understand what he’d said immediately... “I was going to hit the pinball machine, how about you?” “Ooh perfect!” Eddie rubs his hands together as if that’s something he should be mischievous about. “That SOB S.O.H. is going down today, Stevie. I can feel it.”

So, Steve watches Eddie cajole and smack and tilt and praise the Star Wars branded machine in one of the far corners of the place for the next hour, never getting close to his “sworn arch nemesis” S.O.H.’s high score on the machine.

“Damn that jerkward!” Eddie complains, kicking one leg of the machine in frustration after his last quarter is gone.

“Jerkwad?” Steve splutters, “No ‘Terrible Archduke bent on World Domination’? ‘Hellbound scum of the earth’? ‘Rancid-breath-having Satan’s-asscrack-smelling bitch of the highest degree’? C’mon man, Eddie Munson can hurl better insults than ‘jerkwad’.”

Eddie just stares at him, mouth agape.

“What? You act like I’ve never spent time around you, Eds. Now get out of the way,” he nudges Eddie out of the way of his machine, and drops a new quarter into the slot. “It’s my turn.”

For the next four hours, Eddie stands rooted to the spot as he watches Steve use a whole three quarters on the machine. The first two times, he beats Eddie’s score, then his own again, stealing the second place spot first from him, then from himself, entering E.M. into the machine each time.

The last quarter however, the longest game he’s seen yet, Steve manages to beat S.O.H.’s high score.

“Holy shit!! Steve, you did it! Take that you sonofabitch!” he exclaims, pointing accusatively at the small display scrolling “NEW HIGH SCORE!” in orange letters across it. “You gotta actually put in your initials this time, Stevie.”

Steve just gives him a crooked smile, then shrugs, turning back to the machine to enter an S, an O, and a H into the field.

“No..No, Steve! You can’t let that asshole take the credit! That was your win, Harrington! That wa—” Eddie cuts himself off in realization.

Steve’s still smirking at him. “Yeah, Eds?”

Asshole.

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah, Eds?” he repeats.

“What’s your middle name?”

Steve grins wider. “Otis. Why? What’s your middle name, Eddie?”

The bastard.

“I…hate you.”

“Aw c’mon Eddie, don’t be like that!” Steve laughs, following him back through the arcade and out the front door.

“I don’t wanna talk to you, I don’t wanna look at you, I don’t wanna—oh gOD fucking damn it!!”

There’s snow falling softly to the wet cement at his feet.

“It’s snowing.”

“Yeah, Steve, thanks for pointing that out.”

“You’re welcome, Eddie.”

Eddie shoots him a glare, only to find the smug bastard smiling at him still. His cheeks are flushed, there’s big clumps of snow in his hair, and he looks so goddamn pretty it hurts.

“Awe, sweet! Snow!” Lucas’ exclamation from behind them breaks Eddie’s reverie of Steve’s unfairly attractive face.

The rest of the party troops out from behind him, each expressing their own excitement about the weather.

“Oh gross, it’s snowing.”

“Thank you, Mike,” Eddie agrees, pointing at the teen, “At least someone here has some sense.”

There’s a sudden warmth over his shoulder as Steve leans close, “I’ll get you to like Christmas somehow, Eds.” The warmth is gone just as soon as it arrives, Steve peeling away nonchalantly to give him a quick wink before starting to herd the cats.

As improbable as that is, Eddie can’t help but believe him.

steve being a whiz at pinball comes from this post by @findafight

#steddie #steddiemas #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre-steddie #<- technically #but you all know where this is going lmao #steve harrington x eddie munson #st #steddie ficlet #st ficlet #stranger things #the party #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #max mayfield #will byers #noelle writes

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saintmagx · 2 months

Text

call it what you want 🎶

Grayson Waller x Reader

An: I just loved this idea and had to write about it! Also not sure what Scarlett goes by irl so I’m giving her the nickname Beth cause I think that’s what I’d actually call her 🤔

‼️ warnings: swearing, use of real names, not proof read, we are dramatic asf, Grayson is dumb and oblivious but we love him, not really much substance just a little short story‼️

“No, absolutely not.”

“Matty please?”

“Yn I’m sorry i just can’t. I’ve spent so much time trying to be the bad guy, if I go, I lose all credibility. I’m sure if you ask Trin and Beth, they would go with you.”

“Trin is bringing Jon and Beth is bringing Kevin. I will literally be third wheeling everyone. Know what? Just forget I asked. It’s fine.” Upset, i storm off.

Taylor Swift. Taylor fucking Swift was the cause of this argument. The Eras tour was finally heading to Florida and i had tickets for us and our friends to go, however between purchasing the tickets and the actual concert itself, Matty decided - no wait sorry Grayson fucking Waller decided to start beef with the swifties - Rendering his attendance impossible.

Grabbing my phone I do what literally everyone else does when they need to rant about their man. Put it in the group chat for the girls to back you up.

Matty says he isn’t going to the concert 😢

Trin

Girl I’m sorry. That boy is dumb as hell. Why he starting beef knowing we had this concert?

Beth

Men are dumb - screw him, we will still have fun girl 💕

Honestly I don’t even wanna go now, yall can find someone to take our place.

Trin

No no no we ain’t gon do that. You’re gonna get you fine ass dressed to impress and you are gonna come to the concert with us.

Beth

Honestly yn it wouldn’t be the same without you there, please come - I’ll make sure your glass is always full 😜

Trin

I second that! Come on girl.

Know what you girls are right, screw Matty. I’m still gonna go and enjoy myself. Drinks on yall though - promise is a promise 😚

Friday Night Smackdown

Backstage I stand with Trin who is currently warming up for her match tonight.

“We haven’t really spoke about it to be honest. I know I’m being over dramatic but he knew how excited I was for this concert.” I complain

A familiar scent fills my senses. A strong pair of arms wrap round my waist enclosing me in a tight embrace.

“There’s my girl, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He says.

“Well you’ve found me, now I gotta go get ready for my match.” I say u wrapping myself from Mattys grasp.

“I’ll see you out there Trin.” I announce before quickly leaving, leaving him confused.

“Boy, you done fucked up.” Trin

“What did I do wrong?” He says.

Shaking her head she replies “the fact that you don’t even know what you’ve done wrong makes this whole thing even worse.”

“Come on Trin, help me out.” He pleads

“The concert Matt, she was looking forward to you and her going and you’ve let her down. Do you know she wasn’t even going to go because of it? This is something she loves and wanted to experience it with you. You better get your shit together and sort it out before the gig.”

“Fuck!” He says letting out a huge sigh. He didn’t mean to hurt yn, he knew she was looking forward to the concert but didn’t think it would be a big deal if he wasn’t there.

“This whole swiftie thing has just got out of hand, but don’t worry Trin, I’ll fix it!”

“You better.”

Day of Era’s concert

Perfect you say to yourself.

You and the girls had decided to dress up as your favourite Era. You had gone with Lover era. Standing looking the mirror you had found the perfect dress, a pink off the shoulder tulle mini dress, it was the epitome of lover - and of course your outfit wouldn’t be complete without and arm full of friendship bracelets ready to swap with all the other attendees.

You had sent off a text to Trin and Beth to tell them you were ready to leave. A small knock at the bedroom door startles you slightly, knowing it would be Matty you tell him to come in. Turning around you are met with Matty dressed up with pink trousers - similar to the shade of your dress. A white Taylor swift T-shirt and and a few little friendship bracelets on his arm.

“We ready to go babe?” He asks

“I thought you weren’t coming?”

“I wasn’t, but I didn’t stop to think how much you wanted me to be there, and how much I wanted to be there with you. I want to have all these experiences with you and I can’t do that if I’m sitting at home.”

He walks closer to me and takes hold of my hands, looking into my eyes he continues.

“I love you so much yn, no swiftie beef is gonna stop me from making your dreams and wishes come true.”

He leans down and tenderly kisses my lips.

“I love you too Matty, you have no idea how much this all means to me.”

The truth is he did know how much it meant to yn. He could see it in her eyes and he made a silent promise to himself that he would never again be the reason her eyes were filled with sadness.

Thank you for reading whatever the hell this was. Appreciate the likes and reposts.

If you want tagged let me know! 💕

Tagged:

@jeysbae

@blueflowermentality

@co-sharkie

#grayson waller #wwe fanfiction #wweedit #wwe x reader #grayson waller x yn #grayson waller smut #grayson waller x reader #grayson waller imagine #grayson waller fan fiction #grayson waller x you

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jealousjersey · 5 months

Text

first time ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ mike schmidt x reader

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

contains: mike schmidt takes your virginity, age gap (reader is 19 mike is 23), p in v unprotected (wrap it!) abby is not mentioned, different positions, cumming, fingering, reader is afab, fem pronouns and pet names, fluff at the end. minors dni i have a bat

a/n: horny yappin

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

you’ve been dating mike schmidt for 2 months and now live together, yes it’s soon but you needed a place to go. now but you’re a little timid. you were never the most “sexual” kid in your class. while everyone was out having sex, you were mostly focused on your school work and minimum wage job. but now you’re curious. mike has been respectful this entire time, although you’re a little afraid to mention your virginity.

“hey babe i’m home” mike shouts while he hangs his keys up on the wall. you swiftly walk up to him and greet him with a hug. hearing his voice makes your inner thighs warm and you get more excited when he looks into your eyes. “i have to ask you something” you say as you stare into his eyes, you notice him getting worried.

“i was wondering if we could..you know.. take our relationship further?” you slightly grin at him. “you mean like, sex?” he says as you nod. “baby use your words” he looks at you pretending to be annoyed. “yes yes” you reply.

mike takes your hand and leads you into his bedroom, taking off his shirt excitingly. “mike before we do this i need to tell you something else” you start to worry for a second. “what’s up?” he asks, still smiling. “i’m a virgin, i know i should’ve told you sooner but i was scared to be inexperienced-“ he cuts you off as he brings his lips close to yours.

“no need to worry. i’ll make it good for you.” he replies as he crawls on the bed waiting for you, his makes you shiver a little. you take your shirt off exposing your breasts to him. you swore you heard him moan at the sight. next was your pants. you were lucky you decided to put on sweat pants today so it wouldn’t be too awkward to unbutton. you slip your gray sweatpants down, just in your lacy blue panties now. you were soaked just at the sight of him staring at you.

you crawl up to him on the bed carefully sitting down on his lap facing him. you and mike were two pieces of clothing away from finally fucking. you start grinding on him and you instantly feel him harden beneath you. you moan at the sensation you feel between each other. mike feels how wet you became and asks if he can feel it. you nod eagerly. “use your words pretty baby” he smiles at you. “yes please” you reply

mike creeps his fingers down, moving his arm out the way to make more space for his fingers to graze the soaked cloth of your panties. “fuck baby” he moans. he moves your panties out the way and inserts two fingers inside you and curls them up. as you moan he moves them faster inside you. “fuck- mike” you moan as he hits your g spot perfectly. you’re on the edge of release when he stops saying “nope not now, gotta make it good for you pretty girl”

mike slides his boxers off and his cock springs out, his dick is so painfully hard and red. you swipe your thumb over his precum and bring it to your mouth. you sit up and start to sit on his throbbing cock. the fullness caught you by surprise as you gasped “shit mike”

“fuck you feels s’good” he says as you look up to him, his eyes partially closed and his mouth open. his face is red. you press a kiss on his nose and ask “can we try missionary?”

mike looks up at you surprised you asked. he quickly picks you up and places you on the bed and he asks “spread your legs for me pretty girl” as he stands up and moves you towards the edge of the bed. mike starts to insert his dick into your wet pussy. it hurts at first but then it feels really really fucking good

mike pumps in and out of you at a faster pace but trying not to hurt you. “taking my cock so fucking good baby. you’re s’wet for my dick to be inside you” he grunts as he steadys his pace. you feel his dick in your stomach as he presses his tip along your g spot with every thrust. mike grabs your tits and starts tugging on your nipples, overstimulating you.

“fuckkk mike baby” you say as your eyes roll back into your head “im gonna cum” you stutter as you enter your orgasm. “cum all over my cock baby i want to feel you leak onto me” mike says as you start to shake with pleasure.

mike whispers sweet things in your ear as you ride out your first orgasm. “there we go baby, doing so good for me. i’m here sweet girl.” god you could do this for the rest of your life.

mike cleans you up with a wet rag that he wiped between your legs cleaning up your release as your eyes begin to flutter. you attempt to stay awake but can’t.

30 minutes pass and you wake up in his boxers and shirt. “look whose up now” mike coos at you. “you did so good baby” he reassures you. you cuddle up to him and lay on his chest as you both drift away into sleep.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

#jersey writes #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike shmidt #smut #fanfic #jealousjersey

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lunajay33 · 4 months

Text

New World🍂Part 2!

Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world

Pt.1

•Masterlist•

It’s been about a week since we got to the quarry and everything has been going smoothly…..well as smoothly as things could go with Merle around, he teased both Daryl and I every night that he stayed in the tent but in his gross ways that he talks

But I tried to put it to the side because I had my best friend with me and that’s all I could ask for

Today was a new day and we were running low on supplies so some people decided to go on a run to the city

“Hey y/n do you wanna come in the run with us?” Glenn asked as he came over to the table Daryl and I were sitting at

“She ain’ goin no where” Daryl answered before I got the chance

“I could help though”

“I ain’ risking your life out there, I need ya here where it’s safe, Merle can go in yer place” he said trying to plead with me

“Wow baby brother tryin to feed me to the walkers” Merle laughed as he came and sat next to me throwing his arm around my shoulder

Merle always did this, he thought it got a role out of Daryl, plus it made me damn uncomfortable

“Merle get your hands off me” I said swatting his arm away

“Yer a damn brat we should’ve left ya to the walkers” Daryl gave him a look that I’m glad I’ve never gotten, it honestly gave me the chills

“Fine I’ll go, only cause I gotta find me some more pills” he laughed before he left to get his shit together

Glenn had long go left knowing how Merle was with any person that wasn’t white here

“So ummm what are you gonna do today?” I asked feeling awkward now

“Gonna head out hunting, try and find somethin, might take awhile” he said as he cleaned his arrows

“Please be safe out there”

“Always am” he grunted but I saw a lift at his lips making me smile

~~~~~~~~~~

The day went on as we all carried on with our chores, I missed Daryl it’s only been a few hours but he was my biggest constant now and the fear of him alone placed a heavy weigh in my chest, but I know he’s knows how to handle himself out there……but still

Some of the girls and I were hanging clothes and it helped clear my mind

“I miss my straightener” Andrea said

“I miss my kitchen, making home made dinners every night” Lori smiled reminiscing

“…….i miss my vibrator” I stated as all the girls laughed

“Me too” Andrea and Carol said in unison making us all cry laughing now

“Y/n why do you need a vibrator when you got that Dixon basically sowed to your hip” Andrea said

“I…..I don’t know what you’re talking about” I would’ve said he was just my best friend like before but that’s not how it felt to me anymore

“Oh come on sweetie we all see how you both ogle at eachother when you think no one else sees, or when you’re doing chores he’s looking at you like you hung the moon in the sky, it’s adorable” Lori stated making me blush

“Don’t tell him please, I don’t want to ruin anything between us” I admitted

“Ooooooo I told you” Amy said pushing Andrea’s arm

“I guess I’ve felt it deep down for a long time, I mean he’s the whole package but, I’m just plain ol’ me, he could have anyone he wanted” I said clipping on of his shirts to the line

“You’re hilarious, if anything he doesn’t deserve you, girl you’re hot” Amy laughed

“Sure whatever, just everyone better keep their mouths shut”

I loved talking with the girls it always felt like we were back in the normal world, when all we had to worry about was paying bills

As we were tidying up I decided to take a nap, I couldn’t get much sleep last night with Merle’s snoring, so I told the girls and headed to my tent

~~~~~~~~

I woke up abruptly to a ruckus outside so I quickly unzipped the tent and ran out with my knife Daryl gave me, tight in hand

“YER TELLING ME YOU LEFT MY BROTHER ON THE ROOF” Daryl was back, and fuming

“He was a danger to us all he would’ve gotten us killed” this new guy said

Daryl was about to jump this guy when Shane got him in a choke hold, I ran over and pushed Shane off him

“What the hell is wrong with you, don’t EVER touch him like that again” I yelled at Shane

I knew Daryl past, hell I was the one usually to help get him through it and I know he didn’t like others touching him like that

I kneeled infront of Daryl and held his shoulder

“Are you okay” I asked worried

“ ‘m fine” he said swatting my hand away and standing up, it hurt but I understood

“Rick is going back to get him aren’t you” Lori said seeming angry

“Ya, I’ll get a group and we’ll head back for him, I won’t leave him out exposed, well he’s four tomorrow morning”

“Fine” Daryl groaned as he left out into the woods

I quickly followed him seeing him walk back and forth in the same spot I could tell he was fuming, he had a hard time controlling his temper sometimes

“Daryl I’m sorry” I said stopping him from his wandering

“Damn guy just shows up and now my brothers gone, the hell is wrong with him”

“We will find him, eventually you guys will find each other, you always do” I said pushing his hair back out of his face

He was quiet for some time trying to calm down I assume

“Sorry ‘bout before, I shouldn’ have smacked yer had away like that”

“Daryl it fine I just want you to be okay” I smiled

“It’s not”

“Come we need to get some food in ya and we should go down to the quarry and wash first it’s been a while” I took his hand and led him down the trail to the crystal blue water

“Do you wanna go first?” I asked

“Nah, go ahead” he motioned to the water as he sat on the rocky shore

He looked away as I stripped down and glided into the warm water, I was covered up to my shoulders when he looked back but this was clear water I’m sure he saw a little something but…I wasn’t apposed to it

“Me and the girls were talking earlier” I said as I ran my hand over my dirty skin

“Ya? ‘Bout what?”

“What we miss, some said straighteners, cooking in a nice kitchen, what do you miss Daryl?” I cupped my hands and let the water run through my hair

“Mm…probably our dinners, and the drives we’d take on Merle’s bike at night”

I remember those nights so fondly, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding him close as my hair flew behind me, the smell of him surrounding me, the cigarette and woodsy smell I adored so much

“I miss it too”

“What was yer answer to the girls” and my cheeks instantly exploded with heat

“Ummm nothing” I squeaked out

Which he obviously could tell I was lying

“Really? You miss nothing at all” he smirked his conniving smirk he knows I loath

“Maybe a few things”

“What do I gotta do fer ya to tell me?”

“Hmmm the only way I tell you is if you don’t laugh”

“Fine, now tell me”

God this was so embarrassing

“I said I missed…..my vibrator” I squeaked out the last part feeling my heart in my throat

I heard him choke obviously shocked by my response

“I told you not to make fun of me”

“I ain’ just can’t believe ya really used those thangs” he said trying to compose himself

“I’m a woman Daryl I have needs”

“What ‘bout them guys you talked too?”

“They never got past the part of getting to know each other, too many pricks in our town”

“Ya I get that, best ya don’t waist her time, ya deserve better”

I cleared my throat down with this embarrassing conversation

“Umm I’m done, your turn”

~~~~~~~~

(I’m gonna change from using *i* to *you* instead it’s just easier to write that way!)

After we were both washed up we headed back to came, ate our food and went to the tent

“I’ll take Merle’s bag tonight” Daryl said

“Oh okay” we changed and laid down

An hour went by and you couldn’t sleep, it was freezing without Daryl, you rolled over and whispered

“Daryl? Are you still awake?”

“Mmm” he grunted from an answer

“Can you come back to our sleeping bag, it’s too cold without you” you whined desperate for some warmth

You couldn’t see it but his eyes were wide open from shock, he didn’t say anything but he came back over and climbed in behind you

“Thanks”

“ ‘course” he whispered before his snores started to lull you to sleep

~~~~~~~

The next day went on and they were gone looking for Merle for a long time, and it was worrying you, the sun was now setting and your belly felt like a knot of stress

As everyone was sitting around the fire Amy got up to use the washroom, a few minutes later she was screaming, you turned around and walkers were surrounding the camp coming from everywhere

You took your knife and jammed it into the walkers that came near you, until a big one stumbled over and fell ontop of you, you struggled until an arrow shot it dead, well…. forever dead now

It was pulled off of you and Daryl picked you up and held you against his chest, you wrapped you arms around him feeling lucky to have him back and safe

“Are ya okay?” He asked looking you over for bites

“I’m okay, are you okay D?”

“Fine, Merle got away, knew he’d be comin back to take revenge”

Everything died down, the camp lost a lot of people, when the sun rises we buried our dead and burned the walkers

“Where do we go now, it’s not safe here anymore” Lori asked the group but mostly Rick and Shane

“We head to the CDC that’s the only place I can think will still be running”

So after everyone packed up we got in our cars and were off, thankfully it was just Daryl and you in his truck, giving you both some much needed peace

“Do you think we’ll be safe at the CDC?” you asked looking over at him

“We best be, we ain’ got much more places to go”

You could see the worry in his body tension, and the way he talked, sure he was a grump with everyone else but not you, never you

“We’ll find something Daryl, as long as we have each other” he looked at you and looked back at the road nodding

We’d be okay…….right?

—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Part.3<-

Need some ideas for this story please put you suggestions in the comments

Taglist: @thebadbatch2022 @writer-ann-artist @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #twd fluff #twd rick #twd michonne #twd negan #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #glenn rhee #shane walsh #rick grimes x y/n #maggie greene

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sosa2imagines · 4 months

Text

I know where I belong. Part 9

----------------------------------------------------- Warnings- Angst for Steve, fluff for everyone.

Part 10 -----------------------------------------------------

Your POV- ‘This was all you, none of it me’ I see Sharon pushing you in anger. Your eyes fell on me. I didn’t feel anything. ‘I was too strong, you were trembling. You couldn't handle the hot heat rising, mmm, Baby, I'm still rising’ Bucky holds my hand and leads me to the dance floor. I can see Sharon is being abusive towards you and you are speechless. ‘I'm giving you up. I've forgiven it all. You set me free.’ Whereas I found my happiness thanks to you Steve. I look deep into Bucky’s eyes and all I can see is me in them and the love they hold for me. Bucky kisses me softly, not to tease you or show it to the world. But to remind me that he is with me and he is mine. Thank you, Steve, for giving me Bucky and setting me free. ‘Send my love to your new lover. Treat her better. We gotta let go of all of our ghosts. We've both know we ain't kids no more.’ Sharon threw her drink on you and left.

Sharon was hurt and angry. How could Steve stop be being Captain America? How dare he retired? “How could you do this to me Steve?” She pushes him in anger, demanding answers. “I did it for us babe. We can have more time together, start a family.” Steve is somewhat hopeful, Sharon will agree. But instead she starts to scream at him. “Family? A fucking family? Are you out of your mind? You ruined everything!” Steve was not expecting this. No this can’t be happening to him. His eyes fell on you and Bucky dancing together, without a care in the world. Sharon, saw what he was looking at. “All this because of that bitch?” before Steve could say something, Sharon threw her drink on him and left.

Sam was the first to burst out laughing followed by Tony. You and Bucky kind of felt bad for him...but? Oh, never mind. Steve was angry, on top of that he was insulted and Bucky kissed you. “So, you two an item or something?” He snaps at you both, Tony and Sam were ready to give him a piece of mind but Bucky was quick with his metal arm colliding in Steve’s face. Steve stumbled back, breath taken away. A huge bruise was formed on his cheek. Bucky didn’t say anything turning his back on him. “If you know what’s good for you, keep your mouth shut.” Tony warns Steve and he nods in response. After some minutes Sharon joined you all for drinks. Everyone ignored her. “Fine you and the bitch can gang up all you want. I don’t care.” Before anyone can say something to defend you, this time you were quick to throw your drink on her and give her a black eye. “Anyone wants more drinks? Mine is empty” Tony whistled proudly, while Sam sang praises, and Bucky?...well god help him with the boner you just gave him. He has seen you fight plenty of time before, but this was “SEXY” he actually said it out loud. While you headed to get drinks for everyone, Nat was quick to grab Sharon by her hair so tight breaking few a lot of strands. “Be careful with what you say next.” She warns her, letting go of her hair not so gently making sure her head bangs on the table, damn it didn’t.

As the party went on, more guests had arrived. One particular guest was John Walker, Bucky absolutely hated him. Why? Let’s say long before you were even Steve’s girlfriend, John misbehaved with you and Bucky beat the shit outta him.

Bucky was about to get up to throw him out before Tony stopped him with a hard glare. “Fine but if he does not behave, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.” Bucky tells not so very sweetly. “He won’t do anything, anyway he is The Director of Shield’s favorite.” Now what Tony said was pure sarcasm, but little miss Sharon thought something else and quickly left.

An hour later Steve came around searching for Sharon. “Have you guys seen Sharon?” “Nope, must be lost with the black eye.” Sam laughed, Steve looked utterly confused. “No, we have not seen her, since Walker arrived.” Nat told him. “Hmm speaking about him, where is he?” You asked before pouting at the way Bucky was looking at you for asking about Walker, “What? I asked only to stay the hell away from him.” Bucky nodded to your answer but kept looking at you like an angry puppy. Steve was looking visibly upset as no one was helping him. Tony took a pity and asked FRIDAY about Sharon’s whereabouts. “Miss Carter is in the gym with John Walker.” As soon as FRIDAY said that all heads turn towards Steve, “Maybe she is teaching Walker how to use the gym” Sam snickers, “With a black eye?” Tony asks and you all leave with Steve towards the gym. “Bucky, I don’t have a good feeling about this” you whispered in his ear, but Steve could hear your concern due to his super hearing. “Don’t worry doll.” Bucky assured you. When you all reached the gym, John’s loud moans were echoing. Steve was not ready to open the door. Somewhere you all knew what was happening. Nat took the initiative and open the door. All the emotions drained from Steve’s body, you all froze to the sight of John walker leaning on the wall, pants and boxers dropped to his ankles and Sharon on her knees, mouth full. When Steve cheated on you, that feeling was so horrible you didn’t wish it for anyone to experience. So what Steve must be feeling right now, you could understand.

Part 10

----------------------------------------------------- (Hey lovelies part 9 is here and I hope you all enjoy. Comments and feedbacks are appreciated. The next part will be the last of this series. Lot's of love to you all. 😊❤️) -----------------------------------------------------

#sebastian stan characters #chris evans characters #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader angst

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kenny-the-ken · 1 year

Text

A Birthday to Remember

Aged up characters!! All in college!! Contains strong language, sexual content, drugs, alcohol and a lot of partying!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY KENNY!! YOU ARE MY COMFORT CHARACTER AND I LOVE YOU!!

Ps my request are open guys so send me my way!

"Same shit different day as far as I'm concerned, dudes." Kenny sighed, his birthday was something he never did much for.

"But dude, it's your eighteenth! You're only this young once! We gotta go celebrate!" Kyle explained, patting his friend on the back.

Birthdays were a weird subject for Kenny. To him it was just another day, he never got gifts or cards or showered with affection, his family would've gave him a verbal happy birthday and that was about it. The only people who always gave him something were Karen, his friends and y/n. I mean, he was reborn every time he died, so was it even really his birthday anymore?

He just didn't get the hype, if it was someone else's birthday, that was completely different, but Kenny had hardly celebrated any of his birthdays, so why start now?

However, if birthday wishes were real, which he highly doubted, then maybe he'd finally be able to call you his girlfriend. For two years you guys had been friends with benefits on and off, and it meant everything to Kenny. He loves holding your body close to his, smelling your scent on his pillow after you'd left, he loved it, he loved you, but he was terrified you would reject him and you would no longer want to be around him, he didn't want to weird you out and push you away from whatever the fuck this relationship was, so he was happy enough to be your fuck buddy, if it meant he could at least pretend you were both together.

You stood in your room, putting the finishing touches on Kenny's gift, you had made him a scrap book, full of photos of you both, screen shots of your group chats with inside jokes and funny statements in it, bus tickets from when you guys took a trip further afield, the ticket stumps from the cinema when you both went to see that shitty horror movie together that was more of a comedy than anything and finally a flower, the very same one Kenny picked for you when you were young, you had pressed and preserved it perfectly. You sprayed the last page with your perfume and placed a kiss beside it, along with a picture of you both hugging one another and a proposition for him written in your cursive writing. You planned to give it to him at the end of the night.

You finished to get ready, your makeup and hair ready as your hands smoothed over your outfit. You knew Kenny's eyes would pop from his brain when he seen you. You wore a lace, black corset top and a checked pleaded skirt that stopped just below your ass, fishnet tights on your legs and a pair of black high heel boots.

Kyle: We're all headed to the club now, meet you guys outside

Y/N: I'm just about to leave mine, see y'all soon!

You put your phone into your leather jacket pocket, touched up your red lipstick and took two shots of vodka before putting the scrapbook into your large handbag, and leaving the house.

The walk to the club was pretty short, and as you approached you heard all your friends laughing and shouting outside. You smiled to yourself, before seeing Kenny. He didn't have his orange parka on, he wore a flannel shirt and a band tee with blue ripped skinny jeans. You swore your breath caught in your throat as you made your way over to the group.

Kenny's eyes widened upon seeing you, between the cleavage you were showing and how short your skirt was, he didn't know where to look.

"Damn, girl! You look fucking hot!" He exclaimed, his hands then clutching his mouth as he realised what he had just said out loud in front of everyone.

"Thank, Kenny." You said, a small smile on your face your cheeks hot due to how much you were blushing.

"Come on! Let's get in there and get our party on!" Stan shouted, your large group of friends whooping and cheering in response as you all made your way inside.

The nightclub was huge, dark black walls with lights and lasers flashing everywhere, and a mixture of cringey 2000s throwbacks and dance music drummed through your ears.

You went straight to the bar to get drinks, feeling an arm snake around your waist from behind you. You knew it was Kenny, you knew his touch from anywhere.

"You gonna let me see what's under those clothes later, hmm?" He whispered into your ear, a smirk planted firmly on his face as you turned to look at him.

"If you play you cards right then maybe I will. Since it's you're birthday." You teased back, ordering both of you a large vodka and red bull each.

"Happy birthday, welcome to the eighteen club." You purred as Kenny placed a kiss on your cheek.

"In return for buying me a drink, I've got a fat ass blunt rolled, would you care to join me in a smoke?" He said, bowing, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." You replied, a smile on your face as you both made your way to the smoking area, your friends were already on their way to being tipsy, and you guys had some serious catching up to do.

You both giggled, sipping at your drinks and passing the blunt between you both, Kenny's arm wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close to his side. He didn't trust other guys, especially in nightclubs, and with you looking like a full three course meal, he was going to make sure you were protected from any creeps that may be out there.

"I can't wait to give you your present later." You blurted out, the excitement of seeing his face getting too much for you.

Before he could inquire further you both heard your names being called.

"Y/N! KENNY! OUR SONG IS ON!" It was Stan and Kyle, jumping up and down, waving their hands in the air.

"LETS GO DANCE!" They shouted in unison, you both laughing at your friends.

You took Kenny's hand in yours, leading him to the dance floor inside. The place was buzzing, people taking drugs, those so drunk they were skipping the queue for the bathroom so they didn't throw their guts up on the dance floor, or on someone else!

Kenny swore you looked angelic, as your hips began moving, his own joining in, your bodies close to one another. He swore if this kept up he'd be skipping the queue for the bathroom too, but not to puke, to finish himself off before the torment of watching you dance and grind up against him became too much.

"You're such a fucking tease, Princess. And you know how I feel about teasing." Kenny growled lowly in your ear, his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, god if you could take him right now you would, but not before giving him his gift.

Mr Brightside was playing as you all sang along, Kyle shouting for you all at the bar.

"To friends, relationships and having awesome lives together!" He shouted as you all agreed.

"CHEERS!" You all shouted, downing the shot of Sambuca he had bought for you all.

You all quickly made your way back to the dance floor, you all danced together, laughing and giggling all the while.

"Hey, when am I getting my present?" Kenny cooed in your ear, a smirk on his face.

"As soon as we get home." You replied nonchalantly, shooting him a wink. You had just confirmed that you were in fact bringing him back to your dorm room with you, and that could only mean one thing.

"I'm excited." He teased, both his hands on your hips as you both danced together.

"Hey guys, wanna do some drugs?" Eric asked, you both rolling your eyes.

"And where did you get drugs, fat boy?" Kyle snickered, Stan laughing at his comment.

"I got ecstasy off that guy over there." He said pointing to a guy who was in the middle of a drug deal, all of your faces dropping.

"Fuck it, I'm game." Kenny replied as Eric handed him a pink and purple pill.

"Happy fuckin' birthday to me!" Kenny exclaimed before popping the pill in his mouth and gulping down the rest of his drink, and the rest of you followed.

About an hour after you had all ingested your first ecstasy pill and all of you were beyond fucked up. Drinking straight vodka like it was water, shots were far too easy and you guys had smoked two full packets of cigarettes, even Kyle who didn't smoke was smoking like he was an everyday user. Kenny's weed didn't last long either, all of you passing blunts around like it was nothing.

"Dude, have I ever told you how much I fucking love you?" Stan said to Kyle, both of them proclaiming how much they all loved each other and you thought that maybe this was the time for Kenny's gift.

You opened your bag, your vision feeling blurry like everything was going too quickly. And you pulled out the orange and blue scrapbook you had made just for him.

It said on the front of it, 'Y/n and Kenny's crazy adventures' and you smiled as you tapped Kenny on the shoulder.

He broke his conversation with Eric and looked at you, his eyes widening as he seen you holding out a book to him.

"Is this my gift?" He asked, a smile on his face. Kyle and Stan moved closer to see what it was as Eric did the same.

He began flipping through the pages, his smile never faltering once. Pictures of you both when you were kids, dressed up as super heroes, princesses, you name it, it was in there. Pictures of all of you together, all of you smiling in silence as he neared the last page,by our heartbeat increasing.

He landed on the last page, a picture of you both cuddled in bed together after the first time you had both hooked up together, and you'd lost your virginity to him, along with all the other little momentos you had kept. His eyes scanned the words that adorned the page, his cheeks turning bright red.

"Is that even a question? Of course I'll go out with you! I've been wanting to ask you forever, I just thought you didn't like me like that!" Kenny rambled, pulling you into a tight hug, you flush against his chest as you leaned up to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

"I never told you but... in that photo there." You said, pointing to the one of you both in bed.

"You took my virginity." You said, your own cheeks bright red now, as his eyes widened at you, your friends already gone back to talking about a lot of random shit.

"Seriously? I was your first?" He asked, his ego being boosted by the second.

"You were my first, you're my everything, Ken. I love you. I always have, I just knew you didn't like labels and I didn't want you to put a stop to us hooking up because my feelings got the better of me." You said, being completely honest with him, you were never as glad to get it off your chest as you were now.

"I was scared to admit to you for the same reasons." He said lowly, a smile fixed firmly on his face.

"Come here, gimme a kiss." He said, his arms wrapping round your waist once more, both of your lips meeting in a flurry of passion.

This really was the best birthday that Kenny had ever had, and he would cherish it forever, just like he vowed from that moment on to cherish you forever too, and never ever let you go. Not in life or in death.

#kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick smut #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny south park #eric cartman #stan marsh #kyle brovlofski #stan south park #kyle south park #south park

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netherfeildren · 1 year

Text

FEAR OF GOD : Chapter II : Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Content Warnings: Angst, possessive behavior, unprotected sex (there are no condoms in the apocalypse, only vibes), oral sex (f!receiving), squirting, brief non-graphic descriptions of medical procedures / illness, brief discussion of avoiding meals (no reference to any sort of ED), stupid! Joel ™️

Summary: Joel gets a little stupid and a little jealous.

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: I wanted to mention that that I've altered the timeline a smidge to benefit my own whims. So the Joel we find here is about 50-51 and our reader is in her mid to late 20's (cw: age gap 🤓) Everything else in the timeline is the same up until Joel and Ellie return to Jackson.

Another thing, I hella make shit up in this chapter. I talk about a surgical device and there’s discussions of like mechanical/electrical engineering? which I know fuck all about. So if it reads as nonsense I sincerely apologize. There’s a fair bit of character/world building in this ch. so I hope you all can bear with me for a smidge. There is the gift of porn at the end though >:)

Chapter title is from Anne Carson’s Autobiography of Red (my favorite book in the whole world which everyone should read). Art is Intimacy by Angelica Alzona

Word count: a whopping 9.6k (I'm so sorry 😭)

Read on AO3

CHAPTER II: Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company

What it looked like?

Like fucking the forest for once birdless, beastless.

Like measuring the distance between all that’s lost

and everything else that, even now, waved at

hard enough sometimes,

will sometimes wave back.

But it felt like swallowing the sea–

being forced to, ships and all.

Then a silence as vast as it was particular.

The like holding a mirror up to Apollo

and expecting his face there, when Apollo’s always been

faceless, obviously, being a god.

And the hand still holding the mirror up anyway.

And the face not showing.

-Carl Phillips, Star Map with Action Figures

“I mean, yeah, I’d fuckin’ like to think so. I’m not sure. She told me –”

“Ellie, you’re overthinking the hell out of it.”

“I am not,” she grumbles.

“You’re a dumbass,” you deadpan.

That riles her up. “Me?! You!”

“What’ve I done? It’s pretty obvious what’s happening here – Dina wants you to ask her out – you’re too chicken shit to step up.”

“Okay, genius. Y’don’t know what you’re talking about, first of all.” The sass on this girl, honestly. The two of you sit together at the picnic tables that’d been set out in the town center for the monthly barbecue. “You think you’re so damn smart. Well lemme just ask you this, what’s going on with Joel? You two’ve been weird as fuck lately.” That shuts you up quick.

“Don’t even start with that. The answer is nothing.”

She gives you that knowing look of hers, but let’s it go. Silently says: I know this hurts, so I won’t push. Out loud: “You started it, motherfucker.” You yank on her bangs, and she swats you away. “Maybe I should call you a fatherfucker instead,” she cackles.

“Oh my god, I actually hate you.” You try and swat her back, yank on her bangs again.

“What’re you two schemin’ about?” Joel’s voice comes from behind you.

“Speak’a the devil,” she says under her breath, starting to gather up her empty plate.“Nothing–” She shoots up, and brushes past, “Gotta go. We’ll talk later,” not even sparing him a glance. You look between the two of them wishing there was anything you could do to help them bridge this cold distance between them. She turns before walking off, gives you the finger behind his back.

“Ellie, hold on a sec,” you call after her, but she’s off.

“It’s fine,” Joel says. “Leave it.”

“I’m sorry,” shielding your eyes from the bright sun, you look up into his serious face.

He shakes his head. “Nothin’ for you to be sorry about. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” And that stings. Off-handedly as it’s said, it stings that he thinks their rift doesn’t affect you, make you hurt for the two of them.

How could he ever think that after everything he’d told you about Sarah – a night that’d made you feel closer to him than ever before, while you two lay in bed, still damp and trembling – that you’d not worry about his relationship now with Ellie? Who you knew he loved like a daughter, even if he was incapable of saying it out loud. How could he think it had nothing to do with you now? After what he’d told you about himself in the aftermath of Sarah. That moment, his confession, could sustain you for a lifetime of this push and pull if necessary. With trust like that, what else mattered? Very little, you thought.

“You get everything done you needed to?” he threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck, and bends to press a soft kiss to your temple.

You sigh, basking in this small tenderness he offers you after his casual hurt. “Yeah, we finished.” Sometimes you wonder if there’s something wrong with you, taking all this in stride. Luxuriating in his offerings of tenderness and vulnerability one second, swallowing the way he casually brushes you off another. Surely there must be something wrong with you. Especially because, when it comes down to it, you don’t really care as much as you think you should .

“How’d it go?” You’d had to debride some areas from Mr. Schwartz’s diabetic foot this morning – super fun for the both of you . The foot was famous in Jackson. A great source of shrieks and giggles when the old man decided to pull it out in front of the kids as his so-called ‘party trick’. We all gotta bring something fun to the table, honey, he’d tell you when you tried to put on your false tone of admonishment with him.

“Long – I had to take more than I’d initially thought I’d need to.”

“He alright?”

“Resting now… Just means it’ll be harder for him later on – take longer to recover, as best he can, in any case. And ideally, what he really needs is a boot – which we have – one… but it’s not in great condition. I don’t even know if it’ll fit him – or a wheelchair, and both of them are being used right now. So, seems my only other option is to order him into bed until I can figure something else out. And of course Connie’s all, this is on you, honey. I trust your judgment, honey. ” You deepen your tone and scrunch your brow trying to inflect Connie’s baritone. “As if that’s helpful.”

He grips your chin, forcing you to take a breath, brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, and your eyes flutter shut, pressing a tiny kiss to the pad of his thumb. He hums a little, and you catch the flare of heat in his eyes. “You’ll worry yourself half to death, little bird. Take a breath.” You huff a small laugh. He was right about that, worry was heavy on your mind recently. About lots of different things.

“I fixed you a plate,” you divert.

“You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart. Thank you.” He swings his long leg over the bench to sit astride it, legs open to pull you between his thighs.

“S’alright. I was getting Connie’s anyway.” He digs in, and you card your fingers through his thick hair – overly long now, it brushes the collar of his shirt in the back, you’ll need to cut it for him soon – and watch the thick column of his throat ripple as he swallows. You press your thighs together – the sun is so strong today. You think it might be making you a little delirious.

“You’re not eating.” It isn’t a question, posed more like an admonishment, paired with the severe crook of his brow.

“Nah, I’m alright. Can’t have anything just yet after staring at that foot all morning,” you joke.

“You telling me you’re not as entertained by it as the kids are?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Shocking, I know.”

He turns to give you an assessing glance now, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Just tired.” You lay your head in the cool, dark crook of his neck, breathe him in. “Birdie …” voice laced with concern – he tries to gently tug you back by your ponytail, but you burrow in further – press your lips to the pulsing vein in his neck. “I’m fine, Joel. Just tired, really.” He huffs. Grouchy man.

“Hi, honey,” Connie shuffles up to the table. “Joel–” he nods, “You two alright ? That go a long time with Mr. Shwartz?” he asks.

You’re grateful for the distraction from Joel’s fifth degree. “It was fine. Our handy dandy Bovie is so good.” You’d done your best recently to fashion an electrocautery device, like the ones they’d used before in surgery. The two of you had gathered the different parts over time and much voracious scavenging, to put the system together. “You’ve gotta try it next. We should be real proud of that.”

“You should be proud. You’ve got a nice mechanical mind in you, as well. You know, Joel, the body is just a machine of flesh and blood.” Connie turns his blue eyes, gone slightly milky now, on Joel, ready to impart his slice of wisdom – part lecture, part proud tirade for your benefit, as the younger man continues to work through his plate of barbecue. “She looks at the two the same way; it’s very impressive.”

Joel finishes chewing: “Our girl is nothin’ if not impressive,” he says, giving you an impish little smirk. You pinch the inside of his thigh over the thick denim, not imparting nearly enough punishment as you’d like to.

“Shut up,” you grouch at him. “Anyways, the lines were pretty sharp, the cauterization clean. A bit slow, though. I felt a bit held back – but not too bad, considering.”

“Considering…” Connie muses. He starts to eat as well, and the sight of the slick, sauce covered meat is slightly revolting. The sun is way too hot with the change of season into fall just on the cusp, and after staring at poor Mr. Schwartz’s mangled foot all day… “I’m thinking with a little more juice it’ll be perfect. We just have to find a way to feed it more power without frying the whole system.”

“Yes… it’s delicate,” he says slowly.”You should ask Noah for advice.” Joel is silent beside you, but you feel the tensing of his thigh beneath your palm at the mention of Noah’s name. “He’s always been very keen to help us in any way we need.”

“Oh, has he?” Joel drawls, in that monotone he loves to use when cutting people down. He can’t fucking stand Noah; it’s quite funny to you, actually. You nudge his knee with your own, still cradled between his spread legs, and drag your nails slowly up and down his thigh, only responding with a non-committal hum. He shifts his jaw in that way he’s wont to do when he’s especially aggravated, cocks his eyebrow at you. You give him a tiny little mocking tilt of your head. You’re sure he can see the laughter at his expense in your eyes.

“Yes,” Connie continues, completely oblivious to the silent conversation going on between the two of you, “He’s very adept at anything electrical or mechanical. Although, you are, as well, Joel. Perhaps you could advise us too. Any help would be greatly appreciated.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I can take a look. Offer what I can.”

You change the subject: “Teddy’s been in again this week.” One of the single mother’s in Jackson, Susanna’s son, Teddy, had been continuously ill the past few months. Coming down with different, seemingly unrelated afflictions on and off. His mother was beside herself with worry, and you and Connie were reaching your limits on what you could do to help him. Much less actually provide a clear answer as to a diagnosis.

“Yes, I spoke to his mother last night. Some sort of ague again, undoubtedly.”

You roll your eyes at him affectionately. Connie loved to condemn undiagnosable patients with ‘the ague’. “Connie, the ague is absolutely not a valid form of diagnosis,” you laugh. That launches him into a tirade about the conundrum the boys posed to the both of you these past few weeks. And ague is a perfectly valid explanation, honey. Neither of you are certain what’s causing his bouts of illness. Though you’re reluctantly leaning towards something that won’t pose anything good for any of you; you’re trying to remain optimistic, but the uncertainty is taking a toll on the both of you, as well as his mother.

As Connie goes on, there’s a hazy buzz rumbling around in your brain. Your temples throb, and you press the tender spot into the hard mass of Joel’s shoulder. He’s finished eating now, and you nuzzle into him, breathe in the warm scent of his skin and sweat, grip the hard swell of his bicep – the thick muscle has the most inappropriate arousal pooling low in your belly, but your stomach churns at the same time, and the sun is so damn bright. Too many opposing sensations going on within you all at once, you’re sure you’re on the verge of sun poisoning – dramatic – and it’s making you needy. Infecting you with ideas of crawling into his lap and having him cradle you. He stiffens beneath your attentions suddenly. The soothing large palm he’d been dragging up and down your spine goes still, pausing with his fingertips tucked just below the waistband of your jeans – as if he’s just now realizing how openly affectionate the two of you are being – his muscles go rigid at your display, and then that’s it. He’s pulling away.

Your gut twists again, your head is really spinning now – you straighten in your seat, scoot back and out of the cradle of his thighs, as far as the bench allows you. Always fucking pulling away. He’s stiff and uncomfortable, but at your retreat he clicks his tongue at you, frowns a little, and you want to snap at his subtle admonishment – you started it, what are you frowning at me for?

Connie is still going on about Teddy. “You sure you’re alright, dear?” he interrupts himself. “You look a bit peaky.”

“I’m fine.” You stand abruptly, “I’ve got to head back, actually.” Joel turns to reach for you, but you step back and away from his fingers. The heat is definitely making you grouchy, sick; you’re not acting yourself. “I promised Mr. Schwartz I’d be back to check on him within the hour.” You don’t want to look at Joel anymore – you’re used to his sudden bouts of tension – discomfort – but something is setting you on edge today.

“You should eat something before you go, honey,” Connie says – looking up at you with concern.

“I had something before I came. I’m okay.” You turn to look at Joel now, as the lie passes your lips, a provocation held in your eyes and tone.

He frowns, “You said –”

“I’ll see you two later.”

“Birdie –” But you’ve turned from him before he can continue, walking away quickly. Your head is spinning, gut cramping and turning over on itself. The sun feels like it’s two feet away from you, bearing down on the crown of your head, and you know you’re about to be sick. Always fucking pulling away, always. It embarrasses you a little that you still chafe at it, the back of your eyes pinching and saliva pooling heavy on your tongue. You know the way he is.

You make it back to the clinic just in time to vomit behind the bushes on the side of the house.

Jesus.

Susanna brings Teddy into the clinic late in the evening. You’ve just finished writing up your operative note for the ‘famous foot’ (Mr. Schwartz’s words, not yours) when she flies in, frantic, with the listless child in her arms. She tells you he’d been lethargic and without an appetite all day, but she’d chalked it up to fatigue and melancholy from being ill and bedridden so often, recently. His fever had crept up out of nowhere, and now Teddy was almost unconscious, burning hot and delirious – words slurring, eyes glassy.

It’d been hours since then. Teddy was now resting quietly with cool compresses and ice bags tucked under his arms and against his neck which seemed to be helping. Susanna had retired to the back of the house to rest for a bit, and you now sat between Mr. Schwartz and the boy, quietly reading over a text both you and Connie had already gone over multiple times – hoping to find anything that’d inspire an explanation. Most concerningly of all, you’d noticed a smattering of purple-yellowish, sickly looking bruises along Teddy’s spine. It pushed you in the direction your mind had previously taken concerning what could potentially be the cause of all of this. And even though it was the first you’d seen of any bruising on him, it didn’t reassure you at all.

“Joel’s here,” Nancy, the nurse that worked with you and Connie, says quietly from the doorway. You stand from your bedside vigil, sighing. It’s late, and you don’t want to do this now. A little embarrassed from your earlier fit. A lot tired from the long day and throwing up and the heat.

“Can you come out and get me in two minutes, please? Interrupt us.”

She gives you an assessing look. “Sure.”

You walk out to the office to find him leaning against your cluttered desk, bulging arms crossed against his chest, straining the sleeves of his button down. There’s a far off look in his eyes, scowl marring his brow, but when he looks up at you all the tightness in his countenance seems to melt away at the sight of you. “You alright?” His gaze is assessing – sweeping up and down your frame, taking everything in like always. The man sees entirely too much.

“I’m fine. I need to stay here tonight, though.” You jerk your thumb back towards the exam room. “They need me.”

“You said you were tired.”

“It passed – just the sun.” He looks at you like he doesn’t really believe you.

“About earlier—”

“It’s fine, Joel.” You feel too tired, too strung out, to give him an out by pretending to ignore that he’d hurt you, pissed you off. Let it be what it was – you had a sick child to care for – couldn’t think about all the distance that would seemingly exist forever between the two of you, not right now, at least.

“You lied about eating.”

Oh, now he wanted to be fucking honest. You roll your eyes at him, watch his jaw clench. “What?” Tone bratty and antagonistic, “No I didn’t – you misunderstood.”

“You told me you didn’t want to eat, and then you told Connie, not fifteen minutes later, that you’d already eaten.”

“Well then I misspoke – that’s not what I meant.” You turn away from him towards the desk, busy your hands with the papers littered across its surface to avoid his eyes. You feel like fighting – like baring your teeth at him, and you hate it. You don’t want to fight with him, ever. You want, need, things to be okay between the two of you. “Why are we arguing about this? I have to get back.” The bite in your voice startles you for a second, and your hands pause their shuffling. Turning back to face him, wide eyed and shocked at the way you practically spit the words at him, but, fuck it, you decide to just go with it.

He doesn’t let you, though – doesn’t take your bait. You watch the muscle in his jaw feather rapidly as he grinds his teeth, fists curled into knots at his sides like he’s trying to restrain himself from throttling you – and you think you’d kind of like him to do it. You’ve gotta be PMSing or something because where is all this sudden desire for violence coming from? You definitely need to sleep soon.

He exhales a slow breath through his nose. “Not try’na argue, baby… just figure out what’s wrong.” Your heart twists painfully, the back of your eyes pinching and hot, and you will not cry right now. His words make you even more angry because if he cares so much about such seemingly small things like this, why can’t he just let everything else fall into place between you as well?

Nancy pops her head through the open door, calling your name, “Need you when you’ve got a second.”

“Be right there, Nance.” You throw her a grateful look.

Turning back to Joel you rub your forehead, trying to press the ache that’s taking root in your brain out with your fingertips. “Nothing… nothing’s wrong. I’m just…” you sigh, suddenly very sad, very tired. You take in his weathered face, his brow pulled down into a scowl anyone who knew him less would take for anger, but you see it for what it is: concern, discomfort, frustration at the tension that’s held constant between the two of you all day. The both of you pulling away and then yanking each other back. You can see he wants to move past this, avoid whatever fight is brewing – too much for him to handle. You know he hates it when you’re angry and annoyed with him, and doesn’t that have to mean something? Please, please it must mean something more. But you’re too tired for this now, your body overwrought from its brief bout of sickness earlier, from your long day. You’d like to go to bed with him and not wake up for a year. Lay on his chest and feel the movement of his breathing rock you to sleep, count the spaces between his ribs, make a home for yourself within them. A great jealousy for his heart, the organ itself, writhes in you, that it gets to live inside him. You’re feeling melancholy and exhausted and overly emotional . Sad that even when he’s the source of your turmoil, your hurt, he’s still the only one you want to go to for comfort. You clear your throat, “I’m fine, Joel. Really.” You try and give him a small smile. “I was in a mood earlier, but I’m okay now.”

“I need us to be okay, Birdie. I– I know…” he looks away, hisses through his teeth in frustration. “I know I don’t always act like it, but–”

You hold up a hand to stop him. You don’t want to, can’t, listen to him try and make excuses. Explain to you things you’ve always understood about what this thing is between the two of you. “We don’t need to do this. I promise everything’s fine. I need to get back.” You step forward to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, to appease the both of you, but also if only because you can’t help but touch him when he’s near, hands snaking up his belly and chest to fist in the collar of his shirt. He hums low in his throat and grips the back of your neck, other hand low on your back to press you to him, and everything inside you goes liquid hot and wanting, just at the feel of him, the scent of him.

“Try and rest.” He breathes you in at the crown of your head, and you nod against his chest.

“I will. Don’t worry.” But you know he’ll do that anyways, and that alone is a comfort.

Connie meanders in about midnight, nocturnal creature that he is, to check on you all. You’d pulled the armchair from the office into the corner of the infirmary while you read in the corner. An all night vigil wasn’t exactly necessary – Teddy’s fever had broken about an hour ago, his vitals were stable, and Mr. Schwartz had been snoring the night away for hours. Nancy lived on the second floor of the house, and was always near and available if necessary, but you were peaceful here. Tucked away in your corner with your book and a throw draped over your folded knees. The anxiety you’d carried heavy in your belly all day had dissipated. Thoughts of Joel settled now, compared to the frenzied hysterical swarm they’d been all day. Sometimes this need for him scared you. That your mood, your physical self, could so easily be altered by him, by his own mood, his words, his touch. The tether he held you by was so strong, it felt unbreakable, permanent. It scared you to think what would become of you if one day he decided to break it.

Connie passes a hand over the boy’s forehead, murmuring to himself as he examines him, pops his stethoscope in to take a listen. His movements are slow and practiced, methodical. You’d always loved watching him work. You’ve passed so far into the realms of exhaustion, you’re a little delirious now, your mind and vision hazy, and you rest your head against the wingback and watch. “He’s settled now. Vitals are steady.” You hum in agreement.

He turns to look at you then, his gaze contemplative as he takes a seat on the bench along the end of the bed directly in front of you. His tired groan makes you smile a little, old man. The fondness for him squeezes your heart. He has something to say, you can tell. “I know your father was an exacting man,” he starts. You nod, still quiet. You know that now is a time for listening. “I think of him often. I know I never met him, but he wanders into my mind quite frequently. I think of the things you’ve told me about him, about your mother and sister–” When you’d first become close, it’d been hard for you to speak of your family, of Beth and her death, but eventually you’d forced yourself to. For no other reason than that the thought of you being the only person left in the world that remembered their names, that knew their stories, wrought a grief in you so profound, it was impossible to keep it all inside. You were scared if you didn’t share, if you carried all that alone, you’d lose yourself in their memories forever. “I think that after all that, after living their deaths in such a gruesome way, it could have been very easy for you to lose yourself in all that. Do you agree?” Another small tilt of your chin. The precision with which he’d always read you, understood you, was the greatest comfort in the world. That sometimes it wasn’t even necessary to tell him out loud what it was you were feeling or needed for him to pick up on it.

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” you finally say.

“No…” his eyes take on the thoughtful look he gets, the one that makes you wish you could read his mind sometimes, read the wonderings of that brilliant mind like one of your textbooks. “Instead, you became a splendid and thoughtful physician. A seemingly impossible thing, no? Now, with the state of the world for you to have pieced together a vocation such as this…” his milky blue eyes glint with humor, pride, “Well, it’s all very impressive, my dear.”

“Thank you,” you acknowledge.

“And even more impressive, considering the fact, that had you been given a choice in the matter, you would never have chosen this for yourself… had the world been different, normal.” And there it is again, that keen sense of knowing.

“Yes.” There is nothing more to say. It is, after all, your most painful, most honest, most shameful truth. Painful, not in the sense that you carried any regret now, when you cared for your patients, when you put the knowledge your father and Connie had given you into practice. But painful in the sense that it chafed at your skin, that desire for other . That small seed that had the great potential of growth within you, to spread like ivy around a house, and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until all you were left with were thoughts of what could have been.

“But like I said… your father was an exacting man, and this is what he chose for you. And then, perhaps, even I played a part in that same theft of choice from you.” You try to interrupt him then, to vehemently deny it, but he continues unheeded. “You got here and you seemed to be a sort of benediction to me. A vessel for all the knowledge I could impart on you. A shepherd I could leave this flock to.” He slips his glasses off the bridge of his nose and wipes them slowly with the hem of his sweater. “I know you’ll take good care of them when I’m no longer here. That they could not have ended up in better, more caring hands.” You hate when he talks about his dying, fills you with a premonitory dread you don’t know how you’ll cope with when it becomes actuality. “But alas, you did what was set upon you, took it all in stride.” He pauses, as if contemplating what he’s about to say next, and you know the point of all this has arrived. You even know where it is he’s going with this.

“I say all this, my dear, not to dredge up old painful memories, or reminders of what could have been… But because I would not like to see your choices taken from you once again.” And there it is. He levels his gaze at you, quiet for several moments, and it’s like he is here in the room with you now, his presence, his unsaid name heavy and poignant.

“Joel’s a good man, honey, but he’s a hurt man. Hurt in a way I don’t think even you could cure.”

Your instinct to defend him is immediate. “He’s not— he’s not a hurt man.” You shake your head, brow furrowed, “He’s been hurt before, but it doesn’t define him, Connie. It’s not the sole contributor to who he is.” And that’s true, you know it is. Believe it to your very core. You, who knows Joel better than few others, you know the pains of his past don’t define him. Perhaps before, they did. A pain so acute it molded him into a creature focused only on survival, or perhaps, he let it get the better of him at times. But he is so much more than all that. Has the strength and the will to set it aside when he so chooses to. Ellie being the perfect example of that.

Choices, choices, those were the things that defined a person.

“Isn’t it? You can’t live off the potential you see in someone forever.”

“I hate it when you say that.” You sit up, let your feet drop to the floor, and lean forward to stress your point. “What are we all, if not vessels of untapped potential? We’re all just walking around with the possibility of something more inside of us. Of course, of course I value the potential I see in him! I know he has the possibility of so, so much inside of him – that’s what makes me… That’s why I –” You cut yourself off before you can make that confession, a choked sound leaving your throat. You look out the nearby window at the dark street, press your thumb hard into the center of your forehead, will the tension and frustration out of the skin and bone.

“I know… I know,” he says gently, offering you his hands, palms up – a sign of concession. “But it’s not enough to hang all your hopes and dreams on just that. I want more for you than just that . I want you to have choices. To be able to have what you truly want, what you truly need. I would not like to know that something unfulfilling has been forced upon you once again by the circumstances of this world.” And he says it so sadly, with a look of such tenderness in his eyes, it makes embarrassment burn hot and red in your cheeks. The back of your eyes pinch. What must they all think of me when they see us together? The part that perhaps does, or should, make you the most embarrassed, is that you don’t really care at all. Not in any substantial way that would make a real difference, make you act differently. “I’m not unfulfilled, Connie. I love what we do here,” you say softly.

“I know that, I know. But still…I just–”

You rest your aching head in your cupped palms, bent elbows propped on your knees. You’re so fucking tired. “Connie, please, I know…” you whisper. “Just, please, no more tonight… I’m exhausted. You can tell me all this another time – tomorrow. Just no more tonight.”

“Alright, alright, dear. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to give you grief.” He stands, comes towards you to rest a gentle palm on your shoulder.

“I know… and you’re not… It’s me.”

“I only want good things for you, darling girl.” You press your hand over his on your shoulder, give a short nod.

“Go home – you need rest. Nancy will stay with them.”

“I can sit for a few more hours. Teddy likes to know I’m here.”

“No, no,” his voice takes on that stern fatherly tone he likes to whip you into shape with sometimes. “Enough for tonight. They’ll both be fine. You’ll see them tomorrow.”

You scrunch your nose at him, “Bossy.” But you stand to go, draping the blanket over the back of the chair. He pulls you in for a hug then, envelops you in the comfort and steadiness he’s always offered you, from the very start. He always smells faintly of peppermint and mothballs and old paper. “It’ll all work itself out, my dear. You’ll find a way. You always do. I’m not worried about that.”

Joel watches you leave the clinic from his spot in the shadows across the road. He’s been posted here, obstinate and pissed off with himself, for hours. Especially because he’s certain this must be a new low for him, sulking in the dark, watching for you like a creep. But he just wanted to be close to you. He knows you lied to put him off earlier. Your conversation had left him unsatisfied, restless. He knows you’re pulling away because he’s pulling away. Because he’s putting you off, and he tells himself he’ll give you space, tells himself that’s what’s best, but knows it’s a lie as he thinks it.

The thing is, despite his obstinance, Joel was not a man who lacked self awareness. He was, in fact, very good at recognizing a thing within himself, and yet still able to make a conscious decision to feign ignorance towards it to the outside world. This set up worked well for him – sometimes … on occasion… But this was different, and he knew it. Feigning ignorance would not work between the two of you for much longer. You were getting tired and sad and frustrated with him and he could see it and hated himself for being the cause of it. And if he was being honest with himself, which in this moment, he was trying to be, he was getting tired of it too, tired of himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in this position with a woman. On the verge of … something. Something he couldn’t confess, even to himself, yet. But to allow himself that, to allow himself the simple act of even admitting what he knew was the truth of his feelings for you – there was a part of him, a very broken part that had not been used in a long, long time, that couldn’t even imagine it. To allow himself that sort of vulnerability. To allow himself the truth of there existing another person in this world, in what this world had become, a partner – a woman he cared for, needed . It was too vulnerable, too precious a thing to allow himself. Perhaps before, perhaps in a world not overrun by death and disease and violence – by loss.

But what did that even look like anymore? A world bereft of monstrousness? Wiped clean of the beasts that had overtaken it, human or infected. Could Joel even remember such a thing – even imagine it, if only in his dreams? He couldn’t even discern which of the two was worse anymore. Part of him knew it didn’t really matter. Not in the end. It was all conjecture when it came down to losing your life – losing the person you loved. Whether it was fungus or a bullet – dead was dead.

Sometimes he didn't even feel like a person anymore. Just this thing that existed at the periphery of the world. In the moments when he pushed you away, when he turned from the loving look in your face, forced himself to brush off your words and your affection, to hold you at arms length – to protect the vulnerable, scarred mass of his heart – those were the moments in which he was most like a creature, least like a man.

He thought of a world where he felt safe enough to go to the woman he loved, his Birdie, hold you in his arms and say: here is everything I have for you, I’m begging you, please take it .

Such a world didn’t exist in Joel’s mind. Couldn’t fit. He’d been stripped of the ability. To have something so vulnerable and new. A type of fragile he’d not held since his twelve year old daughter lay bleeding and broken in his arms, and have the ability to say I am strong enough to endure the possible loss of this. I need you this badly. So badly I am willing to risk even my own heart.

It looked like trying to swallow the sea.

He follows you home in the darkness.

“You get that fixed alright?” Joel’s voice barks from the mouth of the garage. You startle, your knee slamming into the underside of the workbench. Deciding to follow through on Connie’s suggestion from yesterday, you’d come to see Noah, knocking on his door bright and early this morning, Bovie clutched in your hands. He’d been more than happy to give it a look for you. The two of you had been sitting here for about an hour now, and in that time you’d seen Joel’s form stalk by at least three times, from out of the corner of your eye. Absurd man that he was, you knew he’d been psyching himself up to barge in here and interrupt the two of you. Seemed he’d brought his attitude with him.

“Jesus, man–” Noah’s hand grips your smarting knee, rubbing it gently, “We didn’t hear you come up.” Joel’s left eye twitches at the we, his gaze zeroed in on the hand on your knee, his teeth bared in the perpetuation of a ridiculous growl as he takes a threatening step forward. You lift your brows at him – all your fire and fight from yesterday put to rest now after some much needed sleep. He cocks his brow back at you, shifts his jaw side to side in annoyance.

“Absorbed in your work?” he drawls sardonically.

“We’ve made some good progress actually! Come see,” Noah says, completely missing Joel’s mocking tone, the poor thing. He gives your knee another gentle pat, and you think you might just see steam come out of Joel’s ears. He steps up behind you, chest pressed close to your back and passes a hand over your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. This fucking guy. Now he feels like getting handsy. You scrunch your nose at him, turning back to face Noah and the Bovie, your shoulder pressing into Joel’s belly. Noah takes in your positions, the possessive hand now curled around your neck – looks back down at the knee he’d just grabbed and then back to Joel’s broad intimidating form and scowling face. You see a slow swallow move through his throat. As he starts to explain the changes the two of you had made to the electrocautery generator, you consider the differences between the two of them. The contrast is stark. Noah isn’t small by any means, average height, a nice build – but there’s something about Joel. Some sort of warning in the air around him, in the space he takes up in a room, that makes him larger than life – something that says don’t fuck with me or mine. Heat pools low in your belly and you press your thighs together tightly. Fucked up, you’re fucked up – you try to brush his hand off your neck – suddenly feeling overwhelmed, your skin overly sensitized. “Quit –” he says low in your ear and you almost whimper. He’s jealous, and it’s turning you on. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

You try to shake him off again,“ Let go.”

“No.” His voice is steel. Noah is heedlessly going on about the Bovie, about how it only took a slight rewiring from the generator into the hand-piece without overwhelming the system; giving it the little bump of power it was missing. Joel’s thumb brushes a slow, warning path up and down your neck. Down, down, to the top notch of your vertebrae, slowly kneading the fine muscles surrounding the prominence of your bone and then up and pushing into the base of your skull. His hands are warm and dry – the rough calluses abrading your sensitive skin. You feel the flush in your cheeks traveling down over your chest, the tips of your breasts tightening to painful points. You see Joel’s eyes flicker down, taking you in, and he gives a contemplative hum low in his throat.

“I’m so glad you let me help,” Noah says with a warm smile. He’s sweet and so genuine and as you take him in, how completely unaware he is of the silent struggle going on between you and Joel right in front of him, you’re struck by how easy loving a man like that would be. And how unfulfilling for a woman like you. What is it about some people, that they can’t appreciate a good thing unless it hurts a little?

“Connie and I are real grateful that you could help. You let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” Joel gives him a short nod as you leave.

And then, soft and threatening into the shell of your ear as the two of you walk away from the nice, sweet, uncomplicated boy: we’re goin’ home, and I’m gonna lick that cunt until you’re cryin’, little bird.

Your steps speed up, trying to outrun the clutch of his hands on your skin, trying to escape – even if just a little.

You never stood a chance of that.

He follows, menacingly on your heels, as you dart into your house. A rabbit trying to outrun the big bad wolf. You make for the stairs and you feel the tips of his fingers ghost lightly in the ends of your long hair, one foot on the first step, but then his finger is catching in your belt loop, yanking you hard into his chest. Your back thumps against him with a small oof and then his hands are skating along your curves, big palms squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through the cotton of your t-shirt..

“Bad Birdie, try’na run from me.” He nuzzles, gentle, gentle into the nape of your neck, the line of your hair, presses his mouth to the top notch of your spine. You feel his hot, wet tongue slide over the jut of your vertebrae, small peppered kisses to your nape and your entire body flushes hot – arousal pulling low and tight in your belly. Your clit throbs in time with his panting breath in your ear. His soft mouth is totally at odds with the tension he’s holding himself with right now, the harsh way he presses his fingers into the skin of your hips.

You can feel the thick length of him pressing into your ass; he’s hard as stone and throbbing – turned on by the chase. You moan, deep and wanton, slick pooling in your panties, ready for him now , just at the feel of his hands on you. “You want it, baby?”

“Y– yes,” you stutter, pressing yourself harder into him.

“Want me to fuck that needy little cunt?”

His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his chest and into your back, down, down your body all the way to the tips of your toes. “Please, Joel,” you whimper. You try to turn in his arms, but he clicks his tongue at you, wrapping his arms more tightly around your waist, half dragging, half carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom.

“I always give my Birdie what she needs, don’t I?”

“Settle now. Stay still so I can eat you how I like.” He hitches his hands higher up the backs of your thighs, beneath your knees – spreads you further apart, up and back to press into your breasts, making more space for the broad valley of his naked shoulders. He’d gotten you naked and into bed, quick as a viper. His desperation, evident in the wild look in his eyes. He was unsettled, either by the tension between the two of you yesterday or you around another man, but he was trying to prove some unspoken point to the two of you in the ferocity of his grip on your skin.

He settles his face deep into your sex now and eats. “Who’s all this wet for, huh? Were you thinkin’ about me while that boy tried to get in your good graces?”

“It’s too much. Please, please, please,” you sob. Tears making a slow, steady journey back into your hairline, dripping into your ears. You yank hard on his hair, try to direct his movements. You can’t tell if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer.

“Want me to stop?” He laps at your clit.

“I– I dont– I don’t know–” It felt like he’d been at this for hours. “I–”

“It’s okay.” Soft, whispered kisses to the puffy lips of your sex, your slippery inner thighs. You’re so wet, and you’d have burns from his beard and bruises from his teeth tomorrow. “I know, I know you’re just a little bird,” his teeth sharp and mean to the softest part of you, then the broad flat of his tongue to soothe – a sharp, quick suck to your swollen clit. His volley between rough and tender on your vulnerable sex setting you further on edge than anything else he was doing. “But you can take it for me.You can be so, so good for me. My good girl.”

Your cunt pulls tight – throbs like a wound. Hurts in a way you’re desperate for. You love him, you love him, you love him. Goddamn the things he does to you, makes you feel. You need him so much and he gives it all to you exactly in the way that’s the most perfect, just for you. You feel fucking delirious, on the brink of insanity.

He pushes two thick fingers into you, cunt spasming and clinging. He scissors the digits inside of you, stretches your hole. The squelch is lewd and obscene and messy. You can feel your cheeks burning red and hot, and you throw an arm over your eyes as you feel your slick leak down between your ass to pool on the sheets beneath you – hiding yourself from your own obscenity.

“Pussy s’fuckin’ good, baby. Tastes like candy.” He pulls out his fingers, slaps your cunt, twice, quick and sharp. The sound you let out shames you, high pitched and whining. “Fuckin’ red ‘nd gaping for me. God, Birdie –” he moans so deep it makes your heart race, brings his mouth back to you – licks a broad stripe from hole to clit with the flat of his tongue. His mouth latches to the aching swollen bud and sucks. “You need me so much dont you? Fuckin’ come in my mouth – wanna taste it.” And he’s right, he’s right, you do, you need him so much. In that instant, you feel so grateful that he knows it.

Your back arches, everything liquid within you pooling low in your pelvis, pulling tight, and it feels like the world is about to end around you; a catastrophe even greater than anything the cordyceps could have ever wrought. This is what he brings out of you with his mouth and his fingers and his words, and you gush onto his face. He almost fucking whines at the splash of your orgasm on his tongue – slurping down everything you have to give him, you feel your wetness cover his face and beard. This is what you give to each other.

He gentles his fingers and tongue. Letting your orgasm coast along into echoes and throbs. You try to push him away with your foot on the thick mass of his shoulder, on the brink of overstimulation, but quick as a viper, he circles his entire large palm around the fine bones of your ankle and squeezes. Quit – presses a tiny kiss to the protrusion of your bone there.

“ Mine,” he growls. “Mine, no one touches you but me–” His hands open you wider for him, fileting you for his eyes only. You feel hot and flush, your skin tight, to the point of bursting, like an overripe plum in the sun. Skin fragile and thin, insides viscous, ready to spill your flesh for him, blood burning hot as it churns in your veins. “Not fuckin’ done yet, Birdie. Not done with this perfect pussy.” Tears make a slow path down your temples, your fingers tangled in his hair, wanting to hurt– just a little. Like the delicious hurt of holding him within yourself. The way it feels like an old aching bruise inside of you when he stuffs you full of his cock. And then he’s up, up, up – quick as a whip – his fingers shoving into the tangle of your hair at the nape of your neck, captured in a tight fist like prey in a snare, and he’s shoving your own taste deep into you with his tongue. The kiss, open and savage – he’s fucking your mouth like he was just fucking your pussy. Your heart pushes against the bones of your chest, and you desperately clutch at his shoulders for some sort of countenance. He unmoors you . You have been unmoored by this man. And you want – need – more.

He kneels between your open legs, thick thighs anchoring you wider and fists his cock, the head gleaming and painfully red. He pulls your thighs over his own thicker ones, and presses the fat tip hard to your sensitive clit, making you jolt and whimper pathetically. “Cock drunk, that’s what you are.” All you can do is nod dumbly, eyes glassy and wet. His voice is so deep. He drags the head down to your entrance, presses just a little, only the fat tip held inside you. He fucks you short and shallow like that, his hips moving in tiny, slow jerks.

“Please,” you sigh, your eyes fluttering shut at the subtle pressure, at the promise of what’s about to come, “Please, Joel.”

“Please what? Please what?” he mocks, just a little mean, and then he’s surging inside in one brutal thrust. Fucking into you without warning and he’s huge — almost too much to take, even after your orgasms. “Fucking tight,” he grits out. He hoists you up, arms wrapped around your waist and starts fucking up and into you, hard. Not giving you a moment to adjust. Letting go of the restraint he’d held while he ate you out. Cock battering into something deep and sensitive inside you, all you can do is take it. Let him have you as he pleases.

He can feel your slick pooling at the base of his cock and sliding down his balls. He wraps his hand around the fine bones of your jaw, “Who’s pussy is this?” he growls over the wet slap, “Wanna hear it out loud.”

Yours, yours, yours.

Your face is flushed and sweaty, cheeks red as an apple, eyes glazed, dark, wet lashes clumped together. The fucked out look in your eyes doing more for him than anything else. This is what he does to you, only him . He picks up the pace of his hips, fucks you harder, harder and your tits bounce against his chest. He slaps one of them gently, appreciating the soft jiggle it gives, the small gasp you let out. His other hand snakes low on your tummy and presses down into your pelvis so he can feel the battering of his cock inside of your cunt and shit he’s gonna come soon. Gonna come with his hand feeling himself fuck you from the outside. “Too much, too much, Joel ,” you whine. “Oh god, I– I’m gonna–” You’re soaked, sweat and slick sliding between your two bodies, and clutching him hot and tight as a fist. He can’t get deep enough, can’t give it to you hard enough. He never wants to stop, will never be able to stop.

“You’re taking my cock so good, so fucking good. Jesus fuck, I can’t, I can’t–” He slates his mouth over your open panting one, licks into the sweet, red gleam of you. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he drags his teeth along your full bottom lip, lets it go with a little wet pop. You moan, head falling back on your neck, beyond words. He bends his head, hand wrapped around the fullness of your tit to bring it to his mouth, bites gently down on the tight, aching bud, laves his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth. Then he’s pushing you back, letting you fall and bounce onto the mattress, legs splayed. When he pulls out abruptly you whimper – he can’t let himself come yet, not yet, just a little more – and he leaves a hot trail of open mouth kisses down your neck, over your shoulder, sucking the peak of your breast into his mouth again, over the swell of your belly, until he’s between your thighs again and bends his head to devour your slick. His tongue licking deep inside where his cock just was. He’s frantic. There’s no reason to the sense of urgency he feels, the urgency he’s taking you with right now. It’s something subconscious – something primal telling him to mark you, lay his claim.

He can’t stop taking and taking, always taking.

He pulls up again from between your legs, the abruptness of his movements confusing you, leaving you to deliriously allow him to do with you what he will. “Taste us,” he says as he licks into your mouth, fucking his aching cock back into your spent cunt, so fucking tight always. “One more, baby. Gimme one more, lemme feel you milk me.” And like his own personal little marionette on a string, you do. Pussy fluttering and then pulling tight, a little furl of a knot, squeezing his own orgasm out of him. He feels his balls pull up tight and he’s painting you inside, teeth latched tightly to the delicate muscle that connects your neck and shoulder. The sound from your throat is high and keening, supplicant. He licks the hurt he’s just left. Grinds his spitting cock deep, right into the mouth of your womb.

Mine, mine, fucking mine. It is a mantra of reassurance for the both of you.

He cradles you in his embrace afterwards, his body wrapped around you as if he were a vine grown from your very heart. He sighs, the sound deep from his chest, and you want to tell yourself you can hear a yearning desperate enough to match your own in the cadence of it. His head drops to your shoulder, nuzzles the vulnerable space beneath your jaw, now riddled with his bites and bruises. You know you’ll enjoy inspecting them in the mirror tomorrow, feeling the warm pull of your belly at the reminder. And the moment is so achingly tender, even more intimate in a way, than your sex. The feel of him surrounding you, soft and quiet. Your eyes feel hot, pinching threateningly.

“I have to go,” he murmurs, spent cock still buried inside of you. He presses kisses to your hair, your lips, over your closed eyelids. He can’t stop, God, he’s tried – is trying – but he can’t go, can’t part from you. Fighting is so fucking hard when you’ve got no will behind it. When what you’re trying to fight against is the thing you’ve wanted more than anything else in your whole life, and the only thing standing in your way is yourself, your own inadequacy. Perhaps he could endure the agony, the filth of life, the loss, the loss, the loss, with you held in his arms like this.

His patrol shift started almost an hour ago. The guys were going to ream the hell out of him, he’d been here with you for hours, and still, still he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull himself away. His lack of will, lack of restraint, of self control – his body and heart’s inability to do what his mind told him to, makes him so angry. At himself, and maybe – not at you, never you – but perhaps, at what you represented. All he wanted but couldn’t let himself have in full. He needed to go. He had responsibilities. He had truths to confess to himself.

He was in love with you. He was. He was.

Joel was an obstinate man, but he did not lack self awareness. Now was the moment for this truth, if only confessed to himself. So, angry, and in love with you, and tremendously sorry, he turns away. Pulls out of your tight wet clutch with a wince, your breathy gasp making his cock twitch slightly, even so soon after he’s just come. You roll over, burrow into the pillows, and he grips the swell of your ass, pulls you apart to feast on the sight of his come leaking out of you. Obscene. Wet and messy and swollen, marked by his spend. He wants to bend for a taste but knows if he does, he won’t stop, will be likely to start all over again. “I gotta go, Birdie. M’already late.” He bends to nip a gentle bite to your ass cheek, one small last taste, then the press of a kiss. He hopes you can feel all he cannot say with that touch. The soft sound of acquiescence you hum as you burrow further into the sheets has his teeth clenching as he reaches for his clothes, heart turning over in his chest. He’s sure every sound out of you has a direct connection to his cock at this point.

He won’t shower, won’t wash your drying come from his body. He’ll take you with him, wear you on his skin. Anyways, what did it matter, really, when he already wore you on his heart, his soul? What was one more conquering of his self? Perhaps this was, ultimately, what swallowing the sea looked like.

Chapter III

Netherfeildren Masterlist

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #FOG fic

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