#daydreaming with melli | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zialltops · 4 months

Text

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: Howdy Ya’ll! The song for this chapter is Shake the Frost by Tyler Childers! Im not going to lie, after three chapters writing from Joels POV, this chapter was hard to get into at first. Ive always had a vision for the different ways they perceive each other and it was realllly fun to paint two different pictures of the same people from each others POV. So without further ado, the moment we’ve alllll been waiting for, I give you honeys POV.

Masterlink

ao3 link | spotify link

4. Shake The Frost

Your life in a nutshell has been…uneventful. Your parents had you into their late thirties, you were their last shot at the child they had always wanted and that was a lot to live up to, being the only surviving member of your family when they are gone and the sole proprietor of the Rising Sun Ranch. It was a lot for one awkward, clumsy girl to take on, but you packed up your bags and moved to the city for just long enough to get a real education in keeping your family's dream alive. When you left this place, you had twenty dollars and a full tank of gas. You had horrible hormonal acne, the same damn braces you’ve had for the past six years and you were the furthest thing from desirable a person could ever get.

You were never very popular in school, but considering your graduating class was a whole eight people, you understood why. Everyone around these parts kept to themselves, passed judgment too quickly and all they ever saw in you was an inelegant, unskilled, ugly little duckling.

Four years away earned you a new outlook on life, the discovery of skincare and a little bit of confidence in yourself, but not nearly enough to hoof it in this cruel world. That's why you found so much comfort in the thought of running home, as much as you would miss your friends from college. Here you weren’t gangly and clueless—you could just be yourself.

Yourself with just…a little bit of alteration. Because two years ago, your mom called you to tell you about the new ranch hands that started working, how much weight it took off their plate. A few weeks later, she told you as much about them as she could, about Joel who was charming and gruff. Tommy, who was kind of strange but a nice boy, how Joel takes care of him and watches out for him. A month after that, your mother calls to tell you how much of a gentleman he is.

Two months later, you call your mom and tell her about the date that stood you up and she tells you how handsome Joel is, how kind his eyes are and how she thinks you would really like him, how much you would hit it off and she wished you’d find someone a little more like that—someone who could appreciate you.

Two years pass the same way, your mom calls you all the time just to talk about Joel and Tommy—you understand it's the most exciting thing that's happened around the ranch in the last twenty years, but the more you talk about it with her, the more you build up this impossible dream about a man you’ve never even laid eyes on. You daydream about going home and meeting him, hitting it off like two old flames. You imagine his eyes in the middle of class and miss half your lecture, you think about the way his voice sounds the few times you accidentally overheard him in the background of your moms calls.

Your best friend and roommate, Melly, tells you that's you’re delusional to make up fake scenarios in your head about a relationship you don’t have with a man you’ve never met, but you’ve already hyper focused on it long before that conversation happens, so getting it out of your head is already out the window by then.

All that build up, all the imaginary things you thought up, the way you’d meet—what you would say to him to catch his attention from the moment he sets eyes on you. All of it is for nothing, because he’s not prince charming like you’d imagined, he’s rude and he left you in the fucking snow to die, when you’d spent so long falling in love with a man that didn’t exist. He avoids you like the plague, like it hurts him to be in the same room with you, thinks you’re this stuck up too good city girl, when you’d been so proud to have your shit together. You’d been so fucking excited to get home and finally put a face to two years worth of ghost like fantasies of a person you didn’t know.

And god did it make you so angry at him, when you’d spent so long wanting to meet him, and he was nothing like you’d expected him to be. What is it about you that repulses him? Every time you leave anything exposed, he’s running away with his tail tucked. You look at him from across the dinner table and he takes his food and leaves. Sometimes you can't help the way your anger gets the best of you, starting arguments just so he’ll talk to you, trying to do things that might impress him even though he thinks you’re the most incapable person in the whole world, apparently.

You help your mom with dinner because you remember her telling you that her chili was Joel’s favorite, so you spent half of the afternoon making it, maybe then you could both move on—something, anything. You watch him from the fridge while he fills his bowl with Tommy and they head off to the dining room. By the time you’ve made your own bowl, hatching a plan to tell him you made this, his spot sits empty and his food is untouched for the rest of the evening.

That night, your dad shows you the statement from the bank, the mortgage is two months behind and they don’t have two nickels to rub together. You cry at the kitchen table for an hour, wondering what you did in a past life to struggle so badly in this one. Of course Joel would catch you there, tear stained cheeks and a desperate desire to curl into that broad chest and sob.

He hightails it out of the house before the real water works come down.

Theres a ache in your chest that doesn’t leave you for days—when you spot him in the stable on Christmas eve, it pounds in your chest worse than ever, it hurts so fucking bad to look at him in that brown coat, that long curly hair and scruffy beard. You want to run out the door across the yard and jump into those strong arms, have him twirl you around in the snowfall and kiss you silly. But that's not plausible, so you turn away from the window and make yourself some hot cocoa to starve off the cold, eating you up from the inside.

On Christmas morning, you watch him shovel from the window of your bedroom, hiding behind the curtain while you think about how much he hates to be around you, he must think you’re so unpleasant and hard to look at, because he never even meets your eyes. It bubbles up so much emotion, you cry angry tears before you can make it out of your room. You wash your face in the bathroom to rid yourself of the evidence and make your way down the stairs.

You’re halfway down the steps when you spot him at the bottom, smiling at himself in the vanity mirror, wearing a goddamned cowboy hat like all your wild fantasies about slipping his hat on your head and riding him until he’s a mumbling mess. You would have changed if you knew he was here—would have put on some clothes so he doesn’t go running out on you again. He takes one look up the stairs at you and your brain goes fuzzy and angry, how dare he look so good when you know you can’t touch, how dare he flaunt it right in your face just to take it away again. Who does he think he is, smiling at you like that when he abandoned the dinner you’d made him at the table the night before?

He tells you Merry Christmas and you want to sock him in the mouth.

You chase him off all on your own this time and the guilt eats you up when you watch him work from the window. He doesn’t stop for a second, just keeps going and going and going while you sit on the couch and listen to Tommy’s insufferable rambling about things you don’t care about. He doesn’t come to dinner, so you make him a plate in the kitchen when your mom comes in behind you. “What are you doing, dear?” You wrap tin foil over the hefty plate and give her a look. “I thought I should bring him dinner…no one deserves to be hungry on christmas.”

Your mom squeezes your shoulder and smiles brightly, waves you off when you head out into the storm with his dinner in your hand.

When you meet him on the porch, sleepy look in his eyes with messy hair, you almost invite yourself inside—hardly fighting off the urge to set that plate down and offer yourself for his Christmas dinner instead.

You're halfway thankful for the half mile walk tugging a one ton heifer behind you, at least this way the cold wills away the throbbing between your legs.

That night, you wrap two fingers in the necklace chain, burry your face in the pillows while you fuck yourself on three fingers wishing they were the man sleeping on your couch instead of your own. You try not to whimper his name when you cum, but it slips right out with a rush of air.

Wanting him—is absolutely killing you.

You want to call it a turning point, finally he can see you as capable of something. By the end of the following two weeks, he’s right back to the way he acted before, but it’s like it��s worse somehow. You come down the stairs with a chipper smile in your favorite pair of Levi’s one morning and he nearly falls out of his chair trying to get away from you. You show up in the stable with your old white straw hat on and he hides in the bathroom for a half hour until you leave, like he’s repulsed by you, like he can’t stand to be around you. Is it something you’re doing? Something you’re wearing? He gets so uncomfortable when you have any skin exposed, you can tell based on the way his eyes will bounce to you then away in a hurry, trying to find something—anything else to keep himself busy. Is it because you're his boss's daughter? Because you’re ugly? Because you’re too young and too inexperienced?

By the end of January, you’ve successfully chased him back to his cabin in the evenings unless you aren’t in attendance. He’s avoiding you again, but at least now you have Tommy, who you would consider a friend, a friend who flirts with you too damn much and drinks way too much alcohol. He’s also lazy and doesn’t take much initiative, Joel does most of the work around here, you’ve noticed. But Tommy listens to you when you talk and he doesn’t run away from you any time you try to make conversation.

This morning, you were in the kitchen when Joel came in, cowboy hat and wranglers that hugged his ass. You walked out of the kitchen in an apron with a bowl of preserved raspberries ready to can. “Mornin’, Joel.” You greeted him with a smile and picked the spoon up out of the bowl. “Want to try some? I’m making jam.” You were about to wash the spoon anyways.

“Uh, no, thank you—I ate this morning.” You shrug and lick the spoon clean with one stripe. Five seconds later, Joel is out the front door with a hurried step, like he can't wait to get away from you. Did your breath stink? Was there something on your face, in your tone? By the time Joel is gone, Tommy comes in like there's a rotating door on the house, constantly filtering out one Miller for another.

“He’s in a hurry.” Tommy laughs, pointing behind him with his thumb. “I think I said something.” You roll your eyes at him and finish off the spoon. “Dang girl, how come you don’t ever lick me like that?” It's a light hearted joke, you know that, but you still slug him in the arm for good measure. “Oh, fuck off, Tommy.” You make your way back to the kitchen to can up the preserves and he follows right behind you. “So I was thinking, Joel is heading into town this mornin’, what do you say we scrounge up some change and grab a bottle of something strong?” You used to drink heavily when you were in college, lots of parties and Friday nights out with friends, but now it's closer to once a month if you’re lucky and you can't remember the last time you were good and drunk. “You know what, lets do it. But you have to ask him.” Tommy makes a pained face and shakes his head. “No, I asked last time—it’s your turn.”

“He’s already pissed at me for no reason, and I don’t even know where he is!” Tommy laughs at you and takes the bowl from your hands. “And besides, I have to pee—why can't you go?”

He pulls the jars out and starts to fill them. “Go ask him and then go pee—I saw him go into the stable.” You huff dramatically and turn on your heel, removing your apron, trying to get rid of your nerves as you head towards the door. What’s he going to do, shout at you? Get angry? Say no? You can handle all of that, you’ve handled it up until now.

When you reach the barn, you search around the stalls with no sign of Joel. Wherever he is, he’s long gone. Whatever you did to him, it was enough to send him running all over again. For the millionth time, you find yourself wishing you could just read his mind, know what it is about you that has him running for the hills any time to approach him.

You pet a few muzzles on your way towards the door, wishing it was spring already so you could ride like you’ve longed to do for the last four years. There's less of a chill today, there hasn’t been a storm in a week, but that’s going to change soon. You could stay out here until Joel shows up, but christ do you need to pee right now, so you take a quick detour to the small bathroom in the corner of the barn. The door doesn’t have a working latch, so it pushes open easily.

You just needed to pee, that's it—just needed to pee but it’s too late by the time the artificial light inside mixes with the sunlight filtering into the barn. Lent over the sink with his hand pressed to the mirror, his other on his cock, stands Joel—his balled up fist working up and back down, those huge hands that look tiny on his dick—holy shit, it’s massive, bigger than you’ve ever seen in real life, bigger than most exaggerated porn videos you’ve watched—he could probably fit both hands around that thing, has to be at least ten inches of just Joel. He must hear your tight gasp, because his hand stills and he whips his head around to look at you, his face flushed with shock and shame. You step away quickly and the door slams shut behind you.

You aren’t sure what it is bubbling up inside of you—anxiety, desire, a bit of curiosity and a whole lot of confusion. You saw him not five minutes ago and he was fine, but now you can hear him scrambling in the bathroom across from where your feet have glued themselves to the floor.

“Fuck! Fuck, Honey, hold on.”

Joel Miller is the most hung man you’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s also the most annoying and hard headed—but all of that flies straight to the back of your mind when he pulls the small door open, having stuffed himself back in his jeans, jesus christ it goes half way down his leg, how does he have any room in there? His chest is absolutely heaving and his face is beat red from embarrassment. “I…I’m sorry, I just needed to use the bathroom.”

His hand reaches down and you follow the movement, how he stuffs it into his pants and adjusts himself. “I can explain—“ you shake your head quickly, eyes bouncing back up to meet his. Fuck, he looks like he’s going to cry right now. “Please spare me the details, I should have…knocked, that's my fault.” What was he doing in the first place? He ran away from you because…because he needed to jerk off? Is that where he’s been going every time he runs away from you?

Did you make him do that? But no—of course not, because Joel hates you, hates you enough to actively avoid you even after buying you the same damn necklace you clutch every night when you sink your hand between your thighs, bite your pillow and attempt to muffle his name on your lips.

Joel doesn’t want you, when you’ve been thrown around every corner trying to hang on to him. He left you in that damn snow and all your mind could think about was how sharp his jaw was, how big his hands were, how angry you were that he robbed you of your fantasy of him.

“I just—I…don’t know what came over me, I didn’t mean for you to see that.” Well of course he didn’t mean for you to see that. “Yeah, no I assumed—I’m the last person you want seeing you—like that. I’m sorry, again.” There's something in his eyes, a deep sorrow woven into his features. “How…how much did you see?”

God, does he really have to go there, when your thighs are pressed as tightly together as you can get them, when heat is pooling between your thighs and you have the urge to run up stairs and lock your door behind you. You reach up for your necklace out of instinct, run your fingers along the chain for an absent sensory input, thinking about the way it feels in your hand when you clutch it for dear life.

“I mean—about all ten inches, I’d say.” Its an easy joke you're hoping will ease the stress of the encounter, but Joel leans back against the walk and his head flops against the wood, eyes closing tight. You take the opportunity to drink your fill, let your eyes really roam over the softening bulge in his jeans. “Nine and a half—I…It’s nothing to…boast about or anything like that. I try not to…let anyone see that.”

See that? The biggest dick you’ve ever laid eyes on? He’s just walking around, hiding it from the world? “Why?” You don’t mean to ask, but how could Joel just walk around all day with a third fucking leg and not tell anyone about it?

“It’s embarrassin’. No one wants anything to do with that, nobody wants to deal with what it entails—I sure as hell don’t. Look, can we please just—please forget this happened? Don’t…tell anyone, please.”

Don’t tell anyone? You can't keep this to yourself? Joel miller, every daydream and fantasy you’ve had for the last two years—you can’t just keep that in if you tried—you have to tell someone. “Yeah, no of course not. This was traumatizing enough for both of us.”

His face drops further and he turns himself away, running his hand over his face—the same hand he just had on his dick—oh, fuck, you have to get out of here before you offer to finish him off, just to see how heavy it would feel in your hands, your mouth, your pussy—“I gotta go—“ you start to head for the door, but you remember why you came in the barn in the first place. “Can me and Tommy come with you to town later?”

He only turns for a moment to gaze at you. His eyes look shinny, his lip is drawn between his teeth because its shaking. Had you really embarrassed him that much?

When he speaks, his voice is tight and wobbly. “Yeah, that's fine.”

You leave as quickly as you came, already pulling out your phone and pulling up your best friend's number. When you get into the house, you make a bee-line for your room, slamming the door behind you while the call goes through. When she picks up on the other end, you’re already rambling. “Girl—hold on, I can't hear you. You’re talking too fast, slow down.”

You take a deep breath, clutch your necklace and try to calm yourself down. “I just walked in on Joel—it was an accident, but dude—dude it was huge.” There's a sharp gasp and a laugh on the other end of the phone. “Wait like, you walked in on him and someone?”

“No—I walked in on him jerkin’ off in the bathroom, he…ran away from me again this morning and Tommy came in right after, asked me to ask Joel if we could go to town with him and when I went to look for him, he was in the bathroom with his hand on literally the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.” Melly, on the other end, is laughing her ass off at you, trying her best not to snort at your bad luck. “This isn’t funny! He was so embarrassed, Mel—he said he doesn’t show it to people!”

She huffs on the other end of the phone. “Then how does he fuck anyone?”

And—well… “I never thought about that. Maybe he just…doesn’t? He seemed so ashamed, I don’t know what on earth there is to be ashamed of.” Ashamed of being blessed? Ashamed you walked in on him? Maybe it was because it’s you and you’re the last person he wants seeing him naked.

“Alright, let me get this straight—he ran away from you and five minutes later you found him beating his meat in the bathroom?” For lack of better words, well, yeah.

“Yes—that’s basically what happened, but it was more like three minutes? Because I wasn't far behind him.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening, then Melly clears her throat. “Have you considered the idea that he runs away from you because you turn him on?”

You? You turn him on? You with your awkward posture and too gangly features? You can't even turn a car on half the time, let alone a grown man like Joel Miller. “Not a chance—he hates me, Mel, we’ve been over this.”

“You’ve been over this—you say he hates you all the time when maybe this whole time he thinks its you that hates him.” But that can't be true, because Joel can’t stand being around you. He hated you from the moment he saw you, hated your stupid fucking shoes you don’t wear anymore, hates that you went to college and lived in a big city and don’t let people walk on you. He hates you because you wanted to look pretty for him and he told you to crawl back to whatever place you came from, not even knowing that place was filled with longing to meet him. “No, you have to see it for yourself. You’re still coming down here for my birthday, right?” It’s in the middle of February, when the snow starts to subside.

She tells you that she is, but that she has to get back to work, so you hang up the phone and let yourself sink into the mattress. Its a lot to process—Joel running away from you to…masterbate, catching him in the act—that dick, Christ, even if you want to fuck him, you aren’t even sure if you’d be able to take him. A little deep dive into the internet tells you that you absolutely can—if you work up to it. With ample time and stretching, you’d be able to work up to that, and should it ever happen, you want it to be easy for him, after all, he seemed so ashamed that you’d seen him like that. He said he doesn’t show people, so that must mean it’s been a while since he’s had sex. That in and of itself, makes your heart ache from him—no matter how much he pisses you off, no one deserves to have the ability to receive pleasure stripped from them for merely having a larger—uh, tool. It’s not his fault he was born that way.

A few wrong turns on amazon and you find a (within your budget) toy that's, you guessed it—nine and a half inches and by the looks of it, the same girth as Joel. There is no other option for you but to purchase it—express mail straight to your doorstep.

And even if you never stand a chance with a six-foot towering cowboy, you can at least pretend for the rest of your life. Maybe that will finally starve off your want, fill that void you’ve had for the last two years longing for a made up man and this version of Joel wearing his skin.

It’s a few more agonizing minutes of thinking about the way he’d looked at you in the mirror when you’d spotted him in that bathroom, before you can actually track back to the before, how into it he was—working himself over quickly with a rough calloused hand and his ragged pant.

Fuck it—you have time, lots of time—Joel is probably going to avoid you for half the day before he heads to town, that is—if he even tells you he’s leaving. So you do what you're best at, roll yourself over to bury your face in the pillow while you sink your hand past your waistband and get to work. Its easy to picture something still so fresh in your mind, the way his shoulders heaved when he drew in a breath, how he would probably feel in your hand, your mouth, you’ll have to practice that too, how he’d probably hold you down and tell you to take it. He’d probably be ravenous if he could get past the hatred part. How long has it been since he’s been inside of someone?

You sink your teeth into the pillow and try to retain the sharp whine in your throat, but when you picture his disdain for you morphing into desire, the way the two would clash together in the most impossible way—it’s easy to bring yourself right to the edge. Easy to let yourself drift into that full bodied bliss that shoots up your spine and blooms at the base of your skull. God, the things he would probably say—the filthy fucking words that were made for that accent—the way he’d call you—

“Honey?”

“Amph-“ your eyes shoot open but its too damn late, that twangy southern draw sounds so fucking good saying your name like that and it’s the final straw, deep shadows of your relief robbing the vision from your eyes as they roll back, hand stilling with just the faintest of muffled whimpers to follow it. Yeah—he’d say your name just like that—just like he did on the other side of your locked door while you get off to the sound of it.

Your first big draws of air when you start to come down are into the pillow, trying your best to stifle the ragged way your lungs fill with oxygen until you’ve caught back up with yourself.

“We’re headin’ out in a few, if you're comin’.”

You pull your hand away and jump off your bed, trying to fix your hair and pull yourself together. One glance in the mirror tells you that this is as good as its going to get. You pull the door open and he’s already trying to find anywhere to else to put his eyes than on you, on your tight workout leggings and crew neck sweater—you aren’t anything special and you just saw his dick a half hour ago, so you understand why he wouldn’t want to look. “I was just, uhm—doing a workout zoom with my friend, you ever done one of those?”

God, did you just say that out loud? A fucking workout zoom, its no wonder this man wants nothing to do with you. “A…zoom workout? No—I get my cardio in before the sun's up. Real fuckin’ weird world you come from.” He turns his body slightly, like he’s trying to make his way out of this conversation but he doesn’t quite know how, so you lead the way. “I’ll just get my shoes on and I’ll be right down.”

He turns back and this time he does look at you, but it's at your feet, then a swift bounce up to your eyes. “You’re wearing shoes.”

One glance down and what do you fucking know—you are wearing shoes—stupid fucking shoes you suddenly hate. You hate that you can't get a single thought through your head when it's swimming in dopamine and adrenaline. Hate that he’s taken up so much space in your brain you can't think straight anymore. “If you don’t want to go because you’re…uncomfortable, you don’t have to stall so that I’ll leave. You can say it.” He holds his chin up bravely, you have to give him props for that. Thirty minutes and he can still hold his head up with dignity when he feels like he needs to stand up to you, but does he have to do it so accusingly? When did you give him the impression that you wanted to stay behind? When you’d asked him if you could go not two minutes after seeing him white knuckling it in the bathroom? When he knocked on your door and talked you through an orgasm without even knowing?

“Why do you always do that?” You cross your arms and feel that attitude creeping up on you. “Do what? Spare myself the humiliation?” The humiliation like he’s not staring you down fresh off a mind boggling orgasm. “No, decide what I’m feeling for me—what the fuck gives you the right to make up my mind for me?”

This bastard, who can pull an argument out of you in an instant—when you’d just been thinking nice things about him. “I’m coming with. Tommy’s promise of hard booze is sounding better and better by the minute.”

He huffs at you and it's all you get for a response. You follow him down the stairs and out to the truck, Tommy is waiting down stairs with a confused look, but you shake your head at him and he tails behind you on the way out the door. Joel moves fast across the snow covered yard, climbing in the already running truck with a slam of the drivers door. “What’s his problem?” Tommy makes a face at you when you stop at the tailgate of the truck. “He’s not in a good mood.” Tommy nods his head and walks over to the passenger door. “Course he isn’t, why would he be?” There's a laugh and he opens the door for you, but he doesn’t get in first—he makes you sit beside Joel, with his knee bouncing and his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He won't look at you, but you can tell he’s riddled with anxiety right now. When Tommy squeezes in beside you, you find yourself pressed up against Joel, from shoulder to his solid thigh.

The drive is uneventful because Joel turns on the radio and he doesn’t say anything. Not for the whole twenty five minute drive, Joel doesn’t make a sound, so you and Tommy sit in the uncomfortable silence and try to ignore the way his fingers tap and flex against the steering wheel. When you get into town, you give Tommy all the money you were able to scrounge up and he runs into the liquor store close to the feed store. You were going to sit in the truck and wait, but Joel leans against the door frame with his hands perched on the roof and his cowboy hat blocking the run from your eyes. “Since Tommy’s preoccupied, you’re gonna have to help me.”

Help him? You? “I have three hundred pounds of feed to load, unless you're afraid you’ll break a nail.” Does he have any idea how that works, that you don’t have long fake nails anymore like you did in college? “Well, I guess it's a good thing they are already busted then.”

Helping Joel load the truck means you get to watch him work, carrying two feed bags to your one, but his shoulders bulge when he lifts and you nearly have to cross your legs to push away the nagging thought. He probably looks so damn built under all those layers, beneath that Carhartt. By the time the truck is loaded, Tommy is back with a half gallon of bottom shelf whiskey that looks like a hangover just waiting to happen.

Joel doesn’t give the bottle a second look, but the ride home is just as quiet as the drive there.

It isn’t until later that night when you and Tommy crack open the bottle. It’s dark, but Joel is nowhere to be seen when Tommy makes a fire in the pit out front of the cabin. Your parents went to bed early and the last thing you wanted to do was keep them up, so you took the long walk to the cabin with a few blankets to keep you warm until the whiskey kicks in.

Thirty minutes of having your feet propped up by the fire while you pass the bottle back and forth and Joel finally comes into view, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he tries to walk straight past the two of you. “Come on man, can’t you join us? Sit by the fire with your brother?”

The older man shoots him a look, one you can't read but Tommy obviously does. “Come on, Joel—Tommy’s going to make me drink all of this by myself.” He steps onto the porch with his back turned, wiping the snow off his boots. “I don’t drink anymore.” Is the only response he gives. Like you hadn’t seen him drunk off his ass before.

Another hour passes before you see Joel again and by that time the half gallon is half empty, sitting between the two of you while you giggle and laugh about stupid humor Joel would probably huff at. Can someone remind you why it's the broody brother you want? Not the slightly asshole-ish one who knows how to take a joke? Tommy doesn’t exactly do it for you—not your type, no drive, no motivation—but he is Joel's brother, the closest thing you ever get to having the real thing.

You wonder if he’d fuck you like Joel would—they are brothers, so Tommy has to be just as well endowed at Joel, right?

Right on que, like he could hear you thinking about him, Joel comes out and stands behind your chairs. “Think you guys have had enough. Last thing I need is to be up all night because Tommy’s pukin’.”

He gives the emptying bottle a tap with his foot and you glance up at him. “Oh, come on, Joel—why are you always such a fun sucker? You just hate seeing people smile, is that it? Is it bad for maintaining your shitty mood?” Tommy laughs beside you and you ride off that chuckle, but not for long. “And here I thought alcohol would make you plaint, but I guess it just makes you more of a bitch.”

If your head wasn’t swimming in booze right now, you’d probably swing at him, but you aren’t coordinated enough for that right now, so you settle on a hard glare. “I don’t know man, I think I have a good idea of how she gets when she’s drunk.”

Joel's eyes shoot over to him like he already knows exactly where this is going. “Bet you get real feisty, huh? Whiskey always makes girls want it—get’s um horny.” When he talks, he’s looking straight at you—if Joel wasn’t standing right beside you, you probably couldn’t have the courage to hold his younger brother's gaze like that. You want it right now, god you do, but not from the brother that's asking.

“You’ve got no idea,” you tell him and Tommy smirks at you, then up at his brother who’s gone stiff. “Is it me or him? Because this one doesn’t look too willing to give you any kind of sugar.”

Joel downright growls at his brother. “Knock it the fuck off, Tommy—she’s a lady.” A lady that wants him to bend her in half and stuff her full right now—no matter how much it might hurt. “No she ain’t! A lady doesn’t drink half a bottle and want to fuck.”

There's a hard thud behind you and when you look at Tommy, he’s holding the back of his head where Joel smacked him. “I’m walkin’ her home.” He tells his brother, but doesn’t once ask what you want. It’s been too long, been way too long since someone touched you—and it might be the alcohol in your system or the desperation for a Miller that sends you down this path, but both directions lead you to the same destruction.

“Like fuck you are! You aren’t my dad, Joel—you don’t get to decide what I want all the time. If I want to drink half a bottle and fuck your brother, then you’re going to have to suck it up and listen through the damn wall.”

Joel’s look of anger quickly morphs into something you’ve never seen on Joel Miller—fear. Oh—yeah, you struck a nerve on that one. What does he think? You’re going to soil his baby brother? Does he really look down on you that much, that he’s afraid of you sinking your claws into Tommy? You don’t want Tommy, you want Joel, but you’ll never have that—so you grab Tommy by the hand, yank him up until he’s standing on equally wobbly feet before pulling him down to meet your mouth. He tastes like whiskey and it's nothing to write home about. There's no electricity, no real desire on your part. But you know you hit your mark when there's hard footsteps headed towards the house and a hard slam of the front door.

Tommy gets into it fast, his hands on your hips and his teeth nipping at your lips like he’s as desperate for you as you are for his brother. “Let’s go inside,” he hums and you agree—you’re already this far and you want to make Joel feel what you’ve felt for the past twos months, all this anger and bitterness, why the fuck doesn’t he want you like you want him.

“Do you think he’ll hear us, through the wall?” Tommy pulls away and makes a face of confusion. “Do you want him to?”

Do you? Want him to hear the way you could moan and gasp for him? The way you could beg him for more, deeper, harder? Absolutely. “Yeah—I want him to hear it.”

It's a rough and awkward tumble to his room, you fall against the wall and Tommy does his best to keep you up straight. The door beside Tommy’s room is closed and the light is off, but you can't hear anything inside.

You try not to think—try your hardest not to imagine Joel instead of his brother, but it's a futile attempt. All you can see right now is Joel with his cock in his hand lent over the bathroom sink and how much you wanted to get on your knees for him right then and there. “Can I suck your dick?” Tommy groans from where he stands at the end of the bed, you propped against his pillows, both of you in the midst of discarding your clothes. You get down to your panties and underwear by the time Tommy is left in just his briefs. “Yeah-fuck yeah, you can.”

It’s good, it’s working for you—until he drops his underwear and you’re left…underwhelmed. “You aren’t as big as him?” If it wasn’t for the alcohol in your system, you probably wouldn’t have said it in the first place—but how could you not? He’s half the size of his brother, if you’re being generous. He’s still decent sized, you’ve had bigger, but you cant help the pang of disappointment that you won't be able to pretend just for now.

“I—no, wait you saw it?” You wince and Tommy pulls his boxers back up, suddenly the room is filled with something other than desire. “It was an accident—I didn’t mean to, but I just thought…you’re brothers and all.”

Tommy sighs, turns himself and sits down at the end of the bed with his head in his hands. “You don’t want to do this with me.” He says. “I didn’t say that—“ he shakes his head at you and turns enough to look at you. “You’re disappointed that my dick isn’t as big as his—you don’t want this with me. I don’t want to fuck you while you’re imagining my brother.”

Okay—ouch, that one stung. But you can't argue a point because you have no truth behind it even if you tried. You were going to imagine him—press your hands to the wall and imagine you were on the other side of it. “I’m sorry, Tommy…It’s not you, I promise…you’re a good friend and you’re a nice guy, I just…”

He smiles at you and it eases some of your anxiety. Tommy might not be Joel, but he is a good friend. “It’s okay, I can see it…Don’t think I could take somethin’ that's already his.” But you aren’t, his, after all. He doesn’t look at you like that, doesn’t want you—doesn’t want to touch you like this when he’s so busy despising you.

“He doesn’t want me like that, Tommy.”

Doesn’t want to see you like this in his bed, half naked and begging for him. “How do you know that?” You fiddle your hands with the band of your underwear, where a string is fraying on the edge. “He hates me…can’t even stand to look at me, he’s made that pretty clear.”

Tommy chuckles slowly and tosses you his shirt. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Honey. Try, you might surprise yourself.”

You pull the shirt on and curl up on the pillow, letting your head swim in the whiskey that's starting to take its toll on you now. “Sleep in here tonight, won't try anything—I promise.”

He takes the spot beside you and you smile sleepily, pulling the blanket over the top of you. “Thanks Tommy.”

Sleep comes easy when you’ve drank as much as you have tonight and you try not to think about the other side of this wall.

In the next room, Joel sits fully clothed at the end of his bed with his head in his hands, trying his damndest to stop the tears burning his eyes and tracking down his face.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel the last of us #archive of our own #joel tlou #cowboy joel #dbf joel miller

116 notes · View notes

r0-boat · 2 years

Note

Honestly with all the Melli thirst going on here I am just reminded how much I absolutely love the idea of established IngoxReader and Melli being just the most jealous ho in existence. He is extra mean to both of you just because you oughta feel even a FRACTION of how you hurt him. His daydreams go from you finally realizing how much better he is to replaying that scene of Ingo lifting you to kiss you over and over again in his head. Damn bastard doesn't know how good he has it. It's only because he is a freakishly strong brute of a man, he's seen how easy it is for him to lift stuff all the time. Show off. So smug about it too, so polite all the time when Melli is giving him nothing but mean and harsh comments. Stupid, senile old man, he can just picture it right now him lifting you up to lay you down in his cruddy cottage and you spreading for him and him taking his coat off and helping you out of your clothes, laying you bare for him to admire while he strokes himself (He's hung too, of course) and he lifts your legs over his shoulders and he enters you and he makes such a pleased face when he does and his breath is probably a bit shaky and he looks at him with such gentle eyes an- Wait. WAIT? BONER?! FOR WHICH ONE? OH FUCK MELLI FOR WHICH ONE?

Tldr: Melli supremely hating Ingo for getting with you which developes into Melli thirsting for both of you. Wanting nothing more than to be a pretty little fucktoy for the both of you. (The opportunies here! Fantasizing? Cucking? Melli being both of your third party you invite along for a good tripple sometimes? Something that, against all odds, actually becomes a healthy Poly relationship over time after you managed to get this idiot to stop being such a little bitch? ALL OF THE ABOVE? POSSIBILITIES)

BARKVARKBARK YESSS

We stan Bi melli

Melli hears moan and accidentally find ingo's cabin, he looks into the bedroom window to see ingo drilling you into his futon

Melli isn't sure who to be jealous of

#ro.chatting #smut #ingo.thirst #melli.thirst #no sex only look

41 notes · View notes

bellafragolina · 2 years

Note

This is just something really cute I thought of and wanted to write down and figure you would enjoy it too . So say our dearest hero y/n over here just taking a break and casually making flower jewelry. When someone comes up to to them to see what they’re doing. Y/n shows them the flower crown, rings and necklace they made before they insisted on teaching the person how to make them.

If it’s Ingo , I feel like he’s surprising really good at making flower jewelry. He sees how it’s done and makes it right the first time. He’s really good at making the flower rings the most. He seems like the type that would get lost in making them that he wouldn’t think twice when he goes to slip one onto y/n’s fingers to see if it fits correctly. However when he notice man’s redder then a cheri.

If it’s Laventon, he’s okayish on making them. A little sloppy still cute thought, but he does take a long time on them. He wants to at least make one look nice. He thinks flower crowns are the prettiest and tries his best to at least a decent one. When he’s done he will show it off to y/n proud of himself. Put the flower crown on and ask how it looks. He’s going to have a dust of pink sprinkle on his cheeks as he tells it looks nice on y/n.

If it’s Melli , he’s going to try and say he already knows how. In reality he doesn’t but will try and show he totally does. News flash the flower necklace he makes is bad however it’s fixable. He’s going to try and say he’s just rusty at it and tries again and again and again. Y/n will eventually have to help him, hands brushing against his when they try and guide him. Melli is prideful but for once he shuts his mouth and let y/n help him, enjoying their closeness.

If it’s Volo, he’s knows how to make them and fast. Y/n could make 1 flower ring and he already made 3 flower rings , 1 flower crown, and 2 flower necklaces. Each item he makes he just casually puts them on y/n. He would say he just likes making flower jewelry, reality he’s likes seeing y/n covered in flower. His usual smile is just a little softer.

If it’s Adaman, he already knows how to make flower bracelet. He’s flower bracelets are so pretty and complex . Y/n would have to have him teach them on making those complex flower bracelets. This man is very chill and casual about slipping the flower bracelet on y/n’s wrist. However if y/n put one on his wrist too, he would treasure it forever. When he can’t wear it no more, oh for sure he’s going to flower press the bracelet, but that’s for the future.

-angst train

I’m gonna melt into the floor!! This is such a darling scenario, and you included all the PLA men!! Ahh, it’s so sweet!! Flower crowns and bracelets and rings made with someone you love!! I wish I had more to add, but you created the perfect scene, and there isn’t anything else more to add! There’s nothing to make better when you struck gold on the first swing!!

If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to daydream <3

~Renee

#angst train #your tag at the end of this lovey dovey scenario was v funny too #juxtaposition #and all lolol

21 notes · View notes

lume-nosity · 1 year

Note

I blame melly for giving me brainrots that filled my head for the past month when my daydreaming a** already got Mother Miranda!darling

GAHCHAHF mother miranda darling ayo 👁️👁️

resident evil village ayo 👁️👁️

#📬 lume answers #💛 lumes mutuals #🤍; white!#i’m listening #👂👂👂👂#i was watching gameplays of resident evil village actually #and shit’s fun even though i don’t know anything about resident evil lore GAGAHFJ

2 notes · View notes

c-e-d-dreamer · 2 years

Note

💎

🍧 (Mellie)

💎 - What’s a WIP idea you’ve really enjoyed writing?

I mean, the obvious answer is of course Let Our Hearts, Like Doors, Open Wide! Because kid fic really is my favorite trope ever, so I just love writing that fic. But I've also started a new WIP idea, and even just outlining has been fun and has me excited, so maybe that one could take over that number one spot 👀

🍧 - Choose an aesthetic to describe [Mellie] as

So in my head, I always imagined Mellie as somewhere between cottagecore and fairycore for her aesthetic. Lots of florals. Lots of bright colors. Dresses. Large, soft worn sweaters in winter. Lots of flower and butterfly hair clips or bright colored bows even when Nesta braids it for her. I just always felt that matched her personality well. She's a very happy child and thanks to her love of books, also a bit of a daydreamer 🥰

Send me an emoji!

#answered #ask game

4 notes · View notes

helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 2 years

Note

Thank you Soooo very much about the sneak peak story Kuran Hiro for chapter 3 Watermelons :D , I know you keep having messages about Kuran Hiro story but its so very hard to find a good story about my favorite ship Pairing Kaname/Harry ( I keep having daydreams about Kaname drinking Hiro blood and then kissing him XD Lol )

You can call me either Helly or Melli if it's easier on you.

2 notes · View notes

poisonouswritings · 2 years

Text

Imagine if the ArcPhone has it's own WiFi network so the player can look stuff up

During a meeting you're just looking up dramatic music stings and randomly playing one whenever Kamodo/Adaman/Irida/Cyllene starts talking

When Laventon talks you play various clown themes (affectionate)

You play train sounds around Ingo because it makes him happy (even if he can't remember why)

Teach Melli about Snapchat and filters

Make 'wot in tarnation' memes about Lian

Show Iscan some scary Dusclops fanart if you wanna be evil

If you wanna be nice show him cute fanart

Change the phone's clock in front of Adaman just to piss him off

Change the phone's location in front of Irida just to piss her off

Teach Rei and Akari some Vocaloid songs+dances and encourage them to show everyone

You get a text from Arceus

There's a link that he says is some important information about how to fight Electrode or whatever

You click it

It's a Rick Roll

#imagine getting rick rolled by jesus #shitpost #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon arceus #pla #pokemon legends #legends arceus #adaman #irida #melli #pokemon ingo #ozzy daydreams

2K notes · View notes

smallestapplin · 2 years

Note

OK so this is longer than necessary and nothing to do with any of the fics I’ve written before, but Melli deserves love and attention and most of all, he deserves to have his hair played with. Once again, I have not proof read any of this because reading my own writing is embarrassing and seems like way too much for my tiny anxious brain. Usual disclaimer, my daydream version was drastically different to what I’ve actually written but yolo. Please enjoy some bizarre, awkward, IDK how to flirt properly shenanigans between reader and Melli; also, if someone could please let Adaman know what atrocities he committed in a past life to have to bear witness to this train wreck that’d be great (he's just jealous cause he's maiden-less lol) - ♡

Since the day you met Melli all you wanted to do was play with his hair.

For so long you considered it a pipe dream, just as likely to happen as winning the lottery or waking up one morning back in your own world, falling into Hisui being nothing but a dream. Until now that is.

On your bi-weekly trip to annoy him on his warden duty you are greeted with an angry, tired looking Melli with all of his hair tucked under the hood of his tunic. You almost wouldn’t recognise him, if it weren’t for his trademark pout.

After, surprisingly, very little convincing you now had him sat on the floor in front of you, criss-cross apple sauce, whilst you combed out his hair.

“I wasn’t sure the great Melli could fall victim to such tragedy as a bad hair day. Even gods are people too, it seems” He grumbled at your teasing but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it without you threatening to stop your ministrations; and so, for a short while, he behaved nicely as the two of you sat in peace while you fixed Melli’s hair into a cute, if a bit messy, bun.

******

Sitting at the entrance to the arena, long after you had gone, Melli was still blushing. Mood souring only briefly at the thought of him having to take his hair out when he got home. You see, Melli had a small secret. Two small secrets, really. Firstly, growing up shy as he did it was no surprise that he was more than a little touch starved, having you offer to sit and play with his hair was equal parts terrifying and exciting. Secondly, he had a rather sizable crush on you, ever since he met you, you had been a near constant figure in his day-to-day life and frankly how could he not fall a little bit in love with you for that alone, never mind that you were uniquely pretty.

Truth be told, at first you had annoyed him to no end. You were almost effortlessly beautiful to him, you had such soft eyes and were always so quick to smile around him, these alone were enough to have you occupy a near constant space in his mind. What annoyed him most though, was the fact that your hair that curled naturally. It was unfair. He spent many years perfecting the way he curled his hair, only to be mocked by the universe when it sent him you, you who didn’t even try. It was these thoughts that stopped him from realising for the longest time that his feelings weren’t actually annoyance at all, not even jealousy, much to his dismay Melli found he actually liked you, like really liked you.

For the first time in a long time, he vowed to keep his mouth shut. He refused to tell a soul. Not even Adaman who, as if he were his real brother, he usually confided everything to.

In all honesty, you were his first real crush, full heart speeding up, a little hard to breathe, crush. He understood now why people called it a crush in the first place. Having your hands in his hair today was scarier to him than Lord Electrode’s frenzy, he couldn’t stop his heart from racing, willing it to be over quickly only to find himself miserable when your hands stopped all too soon.

He had no idea how long this crush would last, but he could try and make the most of this “bad hair day” excuse.

******

For the next few weeks, almost every time you visited him, he would complain that his hair didn’t look perfect or how frustrated he was that the almighty Sinnoh had cursed him with more “bad hair days”. Suspecting that something was afoot but playing along, you had made it a regular thing to do his hair when you got there. Even going so far to suggest that he let you wash it one day when he got back to camp so that you could fix his hair so it dried curly as he slept. He had blushed a bright red at that but agreed nonetheless, feigning indifference.

So far you had him wear his hair in space buns, a fish-tail braid, half up half down, a regular braid, half down and half up in a small bun reminiscent of a Disney princess and a full French braid like that one video game character all complete with little slut strands framing his face and everything. Honestly, at this point, your crush on him had taken a back-burner for a while as you desperately wanted to see just how far you could push it. Asking to wash his hair was a bold move for you and one you thought might ruin the good thing you had going but when he accepted you got the feeling that your face was just as red as his.

*****

Adaman was more than ready to admit he was worried. More than once he had seen Melli leave camp with his hair hidden and it was concerning. It was no secret that Melli’s hair was sacred to him, in fact it was fair to say Melli‘s hair meant more to him than the almighty Sinnoh did, so it made sense for Adaman to investigate further. However, every time he had finished his regular clan leader duties and found Melli, the man was fine. His hair back on full display, although in an assortment of strange styles.

He had tried confronting Melli about this without much luck. He had tried asking both subtly and outright and every time all he’d get was a generic answer like “nothing’s wrong” or “I’m fine”. After around 2 weeks and 4 new hairstyles, it was starting to wear on him. He had more important clan related things to worry about than being on Melli-watch and so decided to get to the bottom of it once and for all.

As luck would have it, he figured out the issue the same night he made the decision to dig further. Watching out for Melli to get back from his warden duties he noticed that you were with him; the stranger from the sky, the one that he’d seen Melli pining over for months and vice versa. Watching you both speaking and making arrangements to meet back up later he kept a close eye on Melli’s tent for the rest of the evening, maybe one of you would finally get your act together and confess, he’d hate to miss that.

*****

Tonight was the night and you were nervous as hell. You had seen Melli again today and you had been a little upset that his hair looked as fabulous and normal as it usually does, without the need for your assistance. Your sadness fading to mild terror as he advised he was due to wash it later, very much intending to take you up on your offer of teaching him how to fix his hair so it dries curly. You had sat with him all day discussing the many ways you knew it was done and asking which he wanted to try first depending upon if he wanted softer curls or tighter curls. He seemed more than a little displeased when you advised he couldn’t get curls like yours but this was short lived as you gushed about how pretty he was going to look anyways.

Walking back down to camp with him was when you really started to panic, trying to pass off your uneven breathing as exhaustion from the rough terrain. It all felt a little too real as you asked if he wanted dinner bringing over when you came over later. Your plan was to get a little time away to panic about everything, away from him and in your own tent for a while, under the guise of making dinner, before having to go back and fix his hair like you weren’t about to be alone with your crush in his tent! Both blushing it was awkwardly settled, you’d each go home for a while, you to make dinner and him to do whatever duties he needed to before meeting up again later to eat dinner and style his hair.

The sun started to set at a time you felt was premature as you set back out to meet Melli. Carrying a large ribbon to be used as a makeshift headband and small pot of your cooking, a dish that was as close to your favourite recipe from home that you could get, you knocked on Melli’s door bracing yourself and half hoping he didn’t answer. Unfortunately for you, he did.

As he pulled back the door you saw that he had already washed his hair, his damp strands clinging to his face and shirt. He had changed clothes too, which was awkward for you as you hadn’t, after all that panicking it had slipped your mind completely to change out of your clan tunic and into something a little bit less formal. You expression must have betrayed your thoughts as his face flushed slightly, apologising for how he was dressed.

“I thought the hood on the tunic would get in the way and would wreck my hair trying to take it off later for bed.” He mumbled and turned away to walk over to a small table currently covered in everything he used in his hair routine.

Blushing you followed him, making no comment other than a stuttered “that’s good” noting that he also had ribbon for his hair. Maybe he had tried this before and hated it? Why was he letting you do it again?

Setting the pot of food down and letting him know it would still be warm enough if you do his hair first you asked him to sit and nervously began to comb his hair.

*****

It didn’t take Melli long to relax under your touch. Which was unsurprising to anyone really, he just hoped this was relaxing for you too, you had seemed nervous to see him so casually dressed and he winced when he realised it was the first time you had ever seen him out of his tunic. He was mildly disappointed to see you hadn’t changed, hoping to see you in the nice clothes that you were wearing when you fell, maybe he was reading too much into this? It’s not like it’s a date, right?

The ribbon you had brought with you seemed thicker than his own and so you had both settled on using that one, the deep black standing out against his light hair. Rolling his hair over the ribbon and securing it in a bow on top of his head so it wouldn’t come undone so easily Melli felt himself deflate a little, missing you touch already. In his earlier nervousness he’d chosen this method as it seemed like the fastest, having learned nothing from his previous experiences, and once again now it was over, he found himself wishing he had chosen a more complicated routine. At least there was still dinner.

As if the almighty Sinnoh was taunting Melli personally, the night seemed to pass by quickly and he soon found you getting ready to leave. Dinner was delicious and he has listened intently when you spoke about the differences between ingredients here and at home, it made his heart hurt seeing your sad smile as you reminisced about a home you would likely never go back to. Feeling guilty as he realised, he never wanted you to return there as it meant leaving him.

Overall, the night was pleasant but still he found himself not wanting it to end. Delaying you as much as he could with talks about how to take his hair out in the morning and if you needed the ribbon back. Realising eventually, that he could delay you no longer, he stood with you by the door. Seeing your pot under one arm and your hand reaching for the door handle he felt a sudden rush of panic laced courage, lightly grabbing your arm to stop you for a second. Seeing your bright smile as you turned back to him, he let his thoughts fall silent and could no longer stop his actions. Bringing his hand up to your face, he heard your sharp intake of breath as his lips met yours. A sweet kiss, that you returned readily. A brief kiss, that left the both of you giddy as you said your goodbyes.

*****

Watching you walk back to your tent flushed and giggling to yourself, Adaman couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t get to see which of you had made the first move but he was happy that he would never again have to put up with both of your oblivious pining. Sighing again, as he realised that he would still probably have to witness your ridiculous attempts at hair-based flirting.

Oh this is so cute!!! You did an amazing job!!

Look at Melli being emotionally constipated and finally making a move!💜💜

#heart anon #pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader

27 notes · View notes

r0-boat · 2 years

Note

Omega!Melli x Female Alpha!reader - IDK if you wanna read this but fuck it I'm going to bed now and I thought I'd send it - you don't have to post it if it's crap but I want to share it with someone who might enjoy it. Also I honestly thought there'd be a limit in asks- this was like 4 pages long... if it cuts off anywhere lmk xx -- <3 (non-emoji heart anon that I can't make on my laptop r.i.p)

....

You had always found Melli entertaining but admittedly that was because he was always annoying someone else, unfortunately, some days he decided not even you were safe. It didn’t help that these were the days close to his heat, you could smell the horny brat a mile away. At this point you weren’t sure it turned you on anymore, it was just synonymous with a bad mood. Being an alpha was hard enough, close to your ruts you were constantly angry, which then became horny angry, which was usually the time to see sense and lock yourself away. Melli confused this cycle as his heat was never around the same time as your rut, well until now. You were in the woody area near the brava area trying to collect wood for the diamond settlement, volunteering for the job to try and get away from everyone before you got too annoyed at someone for something small and blew up. It was already shaping up to be a stressful day as a certain smell hit your nostrils and you reflexively took a deep breath. Oh Fuck!

“Fuck off Melli” The poor boy had barely cleared the first line of trees and you had already snapped at him. You weren’t sure he had even seen you yet but you knew he was there and if omega’s senses were as sharp as alpha’s you knew he could smell you too.

“Well, that’s no way to speak to the great Melli” He scoffed mildly offended. Of course, smelling your scent and knowing your rut was close, he knew you’d be aggressive and he’d been hoping for it, his particular brand of horny enjoyed degradation and being manhandled. If only he could annoy you enough to push him against a tree or something, that would be more than enough to help get him off when his heat started sometime in the next few days. Biting his lip, he decided he was going to push his luck as much as humanly possible. “It’s such a shame you have that temper, Darling. You’ll never find a mate at this rate, real men like their women submissive and breedable so I hear.”

“Well then, if I find one, I’ll tell him where to find you.” Not your finest work you’ll admit but between the way his scent is making your head fuzzy as he draws closer and the ever-present rage that you’re currently feeling it’s the best you could do.

“Wow, must be true what they say, alphas are at their stupidest when they’re horny. I remembered your insults being … well … good.” He smirked as he came to stand next you and felt his cock twitch when all you could think to do was growl in response.

“Is there something you want from me Melli, or will you please fuck off?” Your volume rising as your skin started getting hot, you tried to remain calm but everything rubbed you the wrong way when you were like this, it’s one of the reasons you hated ruts. You missed being calm, usually you could handle Melli’s antics without an issue, although that’s in part due to the fact he usually tries not to annoy you, not the other way around.

“Hmpf, I decide to grace you with my charming presence and all I get from you is hostility, how brutish. Although, that’s to be expected from an alpha, even if it is a woman.” He was never one to personally believe that women were inferior, however, he did know that you hated it when people assume that and he was not above using that to get what he wants. Losing himself briefly in daydreams of you knocking him to the ground and pinning him there.

“Friend or not, oh great Melli, I will not hesitate to push you from the tallest part of the brava area I can find.” Your entire body was on fire at this point, you could feel your hands shaking as you reached to grab more wood for camp.

“Please, you wouldn’t go through with it. Your weak girlish emotions would stop you. I believe you would miss me too much to kill me.” He crept ever closer to you to look over your shoulder, further serving to irritate you. He knew you hated people in your personal space at the best of times. Again exceptions were usually made for your best friend, the almighty and wonderful Melli, however today was not one of those exceptions. Considering the heat he could feel coming off your skin at this close he knew his plan was working. He briefly considered that maybe this was pushing a bit far? You were basically his only friend after all. In the end though, his lust won out, consciously deciding that he needed more, consequences be damned. “You do know you missed a twig? Right there”.

You could feel his breath hot against your ear as he mocked you and as he finished his words, he moved his arm to point past your shoulder, likely at nothing, but it was enough for you. Dropping what little wood you had managed to collect at this point you grabbed his arm as tight as you could and yanked him around in front of you. One hand fisting the fabric of his tunic, you pushed him back against a tree until you hear him lose his breath as his back collided with the bark. You pressed your body close to trap him there and moved your hand from his tunic to his throat, not squeezing but making its presence known. You were burning up, seething in anger, when you felt something hard against your thigh. Staring intensely into Melli’s eyes you quirked up an eyebrow, not needing to look to know what it was, sneering at him when he averted his gaze. You weren’t sure when his cheeks had flushed red as you had been trying not to look at him but you were glad, the colour looked so good dusted across his cheeks. Seeking the colour to spread further, you felt the need to move your leg against his cock, slowly causing as much friction as you could with the small movement.

“What’s wrong my love? Surely, it takes more than a little teasing to silence my one and only Melli?” You weren’t sure on your choice of words, it sounded possessive, as was your tone. He either didn’t catch on or he enjoyed it more than you knew as his previous whimper at the friction turned into a wanton moan as you spoke. Still no further response, other than his panting and the feel of his pulse beating rapidly beneath your thumb you decided to press further, literally. Your thumb pressed into his throat slightly slowing the flow of blood to his head. Immediately, you felt him twitch and a small wet patch form on his pants still against your thigh. Mirroring his movements from earlier you leaned your head close to his shoulder. Half whispering and half growling in his ear “You need to answer me Melli, you don’t want me to stop do you? I’d hate to have to leave you like this.”

“Please” His voice was quieter than you’d ever heard him, it’d be concerning if you both weren’t so far gone.

“Please? Please what?” embracing the situation your voice turned wickedly lascivious. “What does my great warden wish of me? I am so eager to please”

Before he could answer, you remove the hand from his throat, causing a pout from your beautiful prey. Harshly, you grab his chin and force him to face you, lips inches from yours and eyes locked.

A few more seconds pass without him speaking, much to your amusement. His eyes are blown out and wild with desire and you can see his lips quivering as though trying desperately to form words but nothing is coming.

With a pout of your own you sign before releasing your holds on the man in front of you and stepping back entirely. A whine escaping him as his eyes follow your movements betrayed.

“Don’t look so sad, love. I’m only a stupid horny alpha after all, what am I supposed to do without instructions?” Your tone and smile had switched quickly into cruel. Your anger at least had somewhat faded but it was replaced with very wet underwear and a throbbing that you could tell was only going to get worse. Turning to pick up the wood pieces you had dropped, your heart was pounding and you wanted nothing more than to push Melli to the ground and ride him until he sobbed. Your nails were digging into the wood far harder than necessary as you struggled to maintain composure. “You should get back to the settlement, I can smell that your close to breaking into heat, it’s not safe to have it out here. I can lead you back but we need to be quick. I can’t guarantee I’ll be so … lenient soon.”

For what you assumed was the first time in his life, Melli listened to reason and you walked swiftly back to the settlement remaining a safe distance away but still desperately wanting to be closer. By the time you got back to the settlement your skin was itching badly, a manifestation of your desperation, and you were barely coherent, you practically abandoned Melli by his tent as soon as he opened his door.

“Wait.” You heard him call but you couldn’t stand to be close to him any longer, your pussy was aching and you needed to get home before you damaged your friendship irreparably. Dropping your pitiful pile of wood by the fire in the camp’s centre, you ignored everyone’s gaze and Adaman’s worried glance as you practically ran to your tent.

Ugh! Stupid Melli, you know it’s not his fault but still. You’re angry and horny and your rut started early all thanks to that annoying prick! You were so desperate for release you were so tempted to go back to his tent, fuck what the settlement thinks. It’s almost dark outside now anyway if I wait a little longer no one would see.

No but they would hear. Your brain chimed in. Oh Arceus, now there was a thought. There was more than one alpha in your settlement and where as your rational brain knew they had no interest in Melli even with his omega status the thought that they would hear you claim him as yours was so tempting. Just how loud would Melli scream as you bit down on his mating gland? Or would he go silent as he had in the woods? Would he enjoy making noise, would he get off too knowing the whole settlement could hear how well you were fucking him? Arceus, if ever you needed will power it’s now.

“Arceus, please grant me the strength not to tear down his whole tent just to fuck him. Please. Please”

Muttering your prayers to yourself and closing your door and sliding down the wall you began to shakily recall what the hell just happened. Feeling guilty at what you had just done to your friend and scratching at your burning, itching skin you couldn’t handle it anymore. Quickly getting up and washing your hands and face in cold water to try and cool down, you moved to lay on your bed, hand slipping down between your thighs and mind wandering back to Melli’s fuck me eyes.

....

end

OMG anon that was beautiful. How much you wanna bet Melli is back in his tent fucking his hand

#ro.chatting #smut #melli.thirst

36 notes · View notes