#i am indulging myself alright.

[elvisabutler]

when i'm 40 and you're 31 we'll get back together you'll see ( future austin butler x priscilla actress reader headcanons )

which is to say welcome to headcanons no one actually asked for but are for the fic one anon did ask for. i need some of this out of my brain, so welcome hello everyone who decided to read this. if you didn't it's okay this is really becoming self indulgent and a way for me to just acknowledge that paul newman and joanne woodward had an excellent couple vibe even when it was rough. i will take no further questions on that fact.

tw: honestly, maybe like mentions of cheating ( not actual cheating ), the normal daddy kink/age difference thing with me and pa! reader, drunkenness? truthfully i was rather tame on all of this.

because consider the two of you never properly make up after you break up. sure, you go on the press tour for elvis and you're cordial. you play up some fake love for the camera and it works well enough. it stings for both of you but he has kaia now and you're- you're doing what you prefer, enjoying a partner who realizes that maybe you only need them for right now but you'll both be happy in the meantime. a serial monogamist, not a maneater, thank you very much. but hey your date for the premiere is pretty cute and you could see him lasting longer than a few months. maybe he's from home or maybe he's another up and coming actor. point is, he's easy and he's enough of a dom that he'll be fine.

consider that when oscar season rolls around austin and kaia are still together and you and your guy are too. no need to play up for the cameras but "oh y/n! austin! can we have a picture!" and you obilge because you're both nominated and what's the harm. a lot of harm in that he holds your waist so tight you're transported to your (his) bedroom and you physically recoil when the picture's done. you both win, of course, some other about how the last time the academy saw chemistry like this it was with the old school hollywood movie types. austin gets a little too tipsy and kaia and your date have to go home early because she's got a shoot and so does yours. you get stuck shepherding your lush drunk ex into an uber that you join him in because "austin robert butler you idiot." and he utters filth at you like you're still dating. he does not cheat on kaia and you do not cheat on your man that night but it's a near miss with "daddy would have given you an oscar baby to go with your oscar." that night is the last time you officially talk to him for 10 years.

consider! he keeps dating kaia for another year, shocking literally everyone but it's fine because she's sweet and you keep dating your beau for- well you keep dating him and dating him and when you first actually meet vanessa on the set of her movie that you happen to be a part of and you become friends she literally looks at you and your boyfriend and seems Concerned. you find out later when you're both at cochella a year later that "girl, don't be like me with the long relationship if you're not going through with it." you choose not to dwell on what ( who ) she means by that.

but consider you both keep track of each other's careers and maybe he sees you on broadway and the same is true for you seeing him. maybe you both get nominated for tonys that year. maybe one or both of you win. maybe you see him that night and it's been over six years and he's got some woman his age on his arm and you've got your saint of a man on yours and it shouldn't hurt but seeing his blue eyes just send a painful spasm to your heart.

maybe now it's ten years on and austin is engaged to be married but he keeps pushing off the wedding ( rumors say he's cheating on her or she's pregnant and doesn't want to ruin the dress, you pay more attention than you should ) but he's still engaged which is more than you can say for you and your boyfriend. "you know how embarrassing it is to just be known as your boyfriend? you know how many jokes they make about you gettIng your own austin butler to make up for the fact that he left you?" you leave him that night.

consider it's ten years on and he's 40 but still so handsome and god you could have had that if you just- if everything had just- if elvis and priscilla hadn't invaded your lives, if you hadn't been stuck inside isolating with nothing that could pull you two down. you don't dwell on it. you try to not dwell on it.

but also consider the fact that he might be a serial monogamist himself but he can't- your ring your copy of priscilla's ring is always in his place. stashed away so whoever he is with can't see it. he should get rid of it and maybe that will make him think he can take the plunge finally.

maybe there's a new project that vanessa ( who you've become good friends with and you're the godmother of her kid/kids ) is passing on but "you'd be perfect for it, y/n!" what you don't know is she tells the same thing to austin.

it's another baz film and honestly you miss the director enough that you figure it's worth a shot. see if the man wanted to cast you again.

consider that he sees you and his eyes light up, he's already cast austin and maybe he thinks you're the best on screen couple he's ever had the pleasure of directing. but still formalities and all and there's that pesky chemistry test and you both freeze eyes settling on each other's matching ( still matching ) dove necklaces.

but you're professionals and somehow you still have that chemistry. you're not on the floor, austin is this time which is such a role reversal you'd have laughed about it in another life. all it does in this one is make you want to touch him and call him daddy like nothing had changed.

baz tells you that you've got the part before you've left the room. it's opposite austin and maybe he leaves the room first. this time you follow him and hold his wrist and when he says "i've got to go" you tap once.

"i like the little bit of grey, mr. butler. shame you're not a brunette right now. can't make a proper salt and pepper joke." "you don't look a day over 25, lil- guess i can't call you lil dove any more can i?" "maybe i wish you would, daddy."

consider you don't fall right into bed because you're older now and you've got to talk this time. but the kiss he gives you when you call him daddy like that offhandedly like time hadn't passed? that makes you almost throw caution to the wind and do it anyway. after all you can't have something like this go wrong twice in one lifetime.

consider. no it just means you get to deal with a completely separate mess this second go around.

#future austin butler x pa! reader #do not look at me like that. #i am indulging myself alright. #austin butler x priscilla actress reader #austin butler #ally writes #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #i legit don't even know how to tag this. #because i mean TECHNICALLY it is. but is it? #i don't know we'll all figure it out by the time i actually write and post the fic. #time can do so much fic #yeah that's probably the actual title. #so yeah this happened today.

[ensikerralla]

A collection of q!Phil quotes from the final rejection

Phil: Forever, I can't. Forever: Why? Phil: I can't- Because you love me for my looks only! I look like your ex! -- Phil: I'm sorry, Forever. It was never going to happen. -- Phil: You know I can't go like, be with you, you know I can't because you don't love me for me. -- Phil: Remember when you just kept trying to gaslight me into thinking that I was Brunim? It's not fucking real, that's not- that's not how fucking things go, dude. -- Forever: I'm trying my best to be happy with you, Philza. Phil: Okay well, it goes both ways. I'm not happy with you when you just fucking think I'm your ex. -- Phil: Why does he keep fucking, like, doing this to himself? Forever: It's love, Philza. You will not understand it. Phil: No, I understand it. This is obsession, there's a difference. -- Forever: Man, please. You reject me already. Why are you doing this? Phil: 'Cause you just tried to fucking die! I care about you but I don't care about you like that. -- Phil: You have to accept it. That people can be nice and not be attracted or like, in love with you. Alright? There's not like, one extreme or the other. -- Phil: As long as you understand. As long as you understand that I can't- I can never accept your love.

#philever #qsmp philza #I CAN'T BE WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU DON'T LOVE ME FOR ME?? HELLO?? CAN ANYONE HEAR ME #this is very self indulgent. i am doing this for myself to cope with the situation lmao #the highlighted parts are just what make me feel most insane (thumbs up emoji) #i didn't add it because this was already so long but phil's ''i'm going back to the party. you gonna be alright?'' is also important #he cares!! he really cares about forever!!! #also i feel like q!phil in this interaction was very aro coded #grammar mistakes in forever's dialogue are intentional because i wanted to write down exactly what he said #all other mistakes are all me #qsmp #eeepost

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

/ mildly spicy art under the cut! --- sacredshipping ❤️‍🔥

clingy ghost types. 💕

#/yes I added the lil disclaimer because I shy . SKDJFHSJDKFNSJKDNFJS #INCREDIBLY self-indulgent art because I was really sad over being sick and made this to cheer myself up somehowksdjfsdfs #I'm actually Really happy with the pose on this one? It's a trickier one for sure but oh my goodness it was surprisingly fun to figure out #especially if it means getting to draw Morty all snug on Eusine's lap like that aha h ssdhfsdfnsdsn////////////////////// 🫣🫣🫣 #(even out of his vampire costume he just can't keep his lips off the other's neck alright let him be all mushy and affectionate and bitey) #(Eusine is just Over the Moon having the other so comfortably in his arms like that ooughgggghgng) #me kicking my heels giddy over my own work asjkdanskdn #I wanna do sooooo much more touchy feely affectionate pieces with them I am Diagnosing them with Desperately Touch-Starved rn 🫵 /lh #sacredshipping #morty/eusine #morty x eusine #gym leader morty #morty pokemon #mystery man eusine #eusine pokemon #pokemon #pokemon hgss #pokemon gsc #fluff spice?!

[chrisevansonly]

𝐀 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you love your boyfriend really you do, but you also love cats…and a little kitten managed to steal your attention away from you very clingy lando..

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: no warnings just fluffy

𝐚/𝐧: this was self indulgent, i just wanted fluff and idk i feel so shitty and nasty about myself and i needed fluffy lando goodness

Off season was in full swing which meant you and Lando were back in London together for a few weeks before you took off on your travel adventures. It was nice to have some quality time with your favourite boy in the world, and the first thing on your list was groceries.

Lando as usual let you do the shopping as he dotted on you, his hand in yours, on your waist or wrapped around you as you reached for your favourite cereal

“Lan you really aren’t being much help..”

“Mhm I am.”

“So you wrapping yourself around me like a koala is helping?”

He smiled into your neck, leaving a few kisses to your collarbone

“Exactly”

“Can you at least put your arms to use and grab our cereal before you continue to squeeze me into pieces?”

You shook your head, your voice teasing as he unwrapped himself from you, reaching up and grabbing two boxes before dropping them in the kart. Letting you continue your way down the aisle, Lando of course attached back to you as you checked off your list and made your way up to check out.

Once everything was payed for and bagged you made your way to the car, putting everything in trunk of Lando’s range rover, not without a few kisses to your cheek and of course a very Lando like squeeze to your butt.

“There, now we can stop ordering take out”

“I like our takeout nights..”

Turning to see the pout on your boyfriends face you smiled, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned up to kiss him

“I know but now we have fresh and healthy things so I can get back to cooking…we can still have takeout on Friday’s how about that?”

Lando thought about it before nodding

“Deal, I love you”

“I love y-kitten!!”

Your arms quickly dropped making the british driver frown, moving to walk slowly towards the little grey kitten just perched next to the car beside you. It’s little eyes watching you carefully as you kneeled down

“Oh hi my love…come here it’s okay..”

The kitten moved towards you at the sound of your voice, of course keeping it soft as to not scare it away

“Hi little one”

Lando watched with a frown as you scooped up the little cat, clearly feeling a little pouty that you ditched him for the cat

“Lan look at it! It’s so small and cute!!”

“No way.”

You looked at him, your puppy dog eyes coming into effect

“Absolutely not angel, no WAY”

“But-but Lan look at him, we can’t just leave him here he’s so little!”

Lando was close to breaking, even you could see it.

“Baby we are always away, we don’t have time for a cat…”

He was right to some degree, but you were often home more than him, and worst case you could find a sitter for the cat. Your brain had begun to find a solution for every possible problem Lando could come to with.

“Please…oh lan please we-I can’t leave him here..I promise i’ll make sure I take the best care of him…”

Lando would admit the grey fluff ball was cute, and that look you had on your face was pretty sweet too, how could he say no to you, especially when you looked so happy

“Alright fine”

“Thank you thank you thank you baby!!!”

Cradling the kitten in your arms you leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, his arms wrapping around you as he held onto you tightly

“Next thing you know I’ll be the crazy cat dad like Max”

“Max has two cats love..”

“He’s still crazy..”

Shaking your head at Lando’s dramatics you kissed him once more before walking towards your car, your new little family member happy in your arms, sound asleep. A kitten distraction is what Lando would call it, but if you’re happy, he’s happy, even if he’s starting to realize he needs to share your attention.

And he’s just not sure he’s ready to do that…

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #rueschats💗 #lando norris drabble #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 drabble #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

[lovelybluebirdie]

A sight to behold

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: Astarion is far more than his beauty, and you want him to know.

Word Count: 1,7k

fluff, comfort

[AO3]

“You should get some rest, love,” Astarion whispers against your hair. He holds you comfortably in his arms, your fingers loosely grasping the end of his collar while his hand strokes along your waist, caressing your battle-bruised skin. 

Usually sleep didn’t take long to claim you after an exhausting day of defeating vigorous creatures or learning another disturbing fact on the tadpole inside your brain, but tonight it seems to avoid you for some reason, leaving you tossing and turning within your bedroll until Astarion eventually pulled you into a loving embrace.

“I’m good,” you mutter as a deep yawn escapes your throat, smothering your last syllables.

Astarion cups your chin between his thumb and index finger, surveying your face. “You’re a weary little love if I ever saw one.” 

“Fine, you’ve got me,” you reply in a drowsy voice. “Maybe I am a little tired, but somehow I can't find any sleep.”

His brow furrows. “Is anything troubling you, my dear?” he asks sincerely, pondering if he might’ve done something wrong.

The unpleasant thought has no room to spread its hooks any further, as he's met with only fondness from your tired eyes, leaving his ribcage bursting with adoration.

“No need to worry about me, Astarion. I promise, everything’s alright,” you assure as you begin to massage his ears, causing them to twitch.

“You still need to get some sleep though,” he scolds with half-closed lids. It's more of a moan, as he’s unable to suppress his desire for your blissful fingers to go on. You seem to know exactly where he enjoys them most, he notices, when another quiet groan spills from his lips. 

You brush the pointy tip of his ear once more, cautiously not to overstimulate this sensitive part of him, before you rest your fingers on his neck and playfully raise an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you’ll allow me to indulge in your beauty a little longer before I find myself dozing off.”

A benign remark, and yet something inside Astarion shifts. Something he can’t fully fathom at first, a faint sense of melancholy starting to linger, despite the comfort of your touch.

He’s been called beautiful more times than he can remember, but he’ll never be able to judge for himself, being robbed of his reflection since Cazador turned him into a vampire spawn centuries ago – his own appearance remaining a dark shape from his past.

“Beauty you say?” he mumbles quietly. “Tell me then, what is it you see when looking at me?”

Your expression softens as you grasp for his hand and squeeze it lightly. It seems you’ve already caught his musings, as you often do, without him needing to vocalise that something’s on his mind.

“Well, your most outstanding features are probably your piercing eyes – crimson, like rubies,” you explain before resting a kiss on his cheek. 

Astarion listens attentively. His gaze must indeed be exceptionally sharp, he thinks, trying for a brief moment to recall the colour his eyes were before he was turned, but to no avail. A shiver runs down his spine as he wonders if you might think of him as a dangerous predator at times, uncertain whether this poses a pleasant or a frightening notion.

“Sometimes they’re full of anger, resembling freshly shed blood. And other times they’re… so soft. Reminding me of the cutest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen, almost competing with Scratch,” you giggle as you draw your thumb along his cheekbone, right where your lips parted from his skin.

Astarion stares at you in bewilderment. “What do you mean – puppy eyes?! I’m a century-old vampire spawn, not some gushing maiden.”

“You asked what I’d see when I’m looking at you, didn’t you?” You offer him a mischievous grin before blowing a strand of hair off his forehead. “Or do you prefer me to stop?” 

Astarion rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “Fine, go on.” 

Although not particularly delighted by the comparison you draw, he can’t resist the urge to listen to you further describing him.

“There are also your beautiful white curls – so smooth that I often find myself wondering which soap you use for them to stay that way,” you say as you take one of said strands between your fingers. “Come to think of it, those are probably one of my favourite parts of you, my love.”

“Mhm, I certainly have the best hair in camp,” Astarion purrs approvingly, a smug grin playing around his lips, vanishing the furrow on his brow from your previous remark.

“Don’t let Shadowheart hear,” you joke before continuing. “Of course I also adore your smile – seeing those little wrinkles when you laugh.”

Astarion’s grin freezes as he quickly feels the spot beneath his temples.

“My sweet, you surely must’ve noticed by now that one of a vampire spawn’s rare perks is eternal youth, so I’m quite positive that there are no such things as wrinkles on my face.”

“If you say so,” you chuckle as you reach for his hands to press loving kisses on his fingertips. “This was supposed to be a compliment, you know.”

“Perhaps if I wasn’t your lover, but your doting grandmother,” he grumbles with pursed lips, but doesn’t pull away. 

“I sense you desire to listen to some of your less grandmotherly features, then?”

Astarion battles another grin but loses, his lips twisting to a wry smile. “Yes, please.” 

It's true, he doesn’t want you to stop, secretly enjoying how sincere you express your sentiments.

“Let’s see if I find some, though…” you tease, earning a gentle nudge to your hip before your eyes are glued to his face again. “Honestly, you're stunningly beautiful, Astarion – a goddamn sight to behold.” 

Astarion’s smile widens at your flattery. “Oh dear, that sounds far better than being described with the attributes of an old lady.”

“As I thought,” you reply, brushing one of his curls behind his ear. “But do you want to know what I adore about you most?”

Astarion's eyes grow round. “As humble as I am, I'm always thrilled to receive some more praise.”

He notices a flush to your cheeks as you let your finger slowly trace along the bridge of his nose, until it comes to a rest on his lips. 

You clear your throat, seeming in search of the right words. 

“You’re so much more than your beauty,” you begin, your fingertip still resting on his bottom lip. He presses a kiss, his curiosity roused.

“I love the way you make me laugh, like no one else can, despite all the madness we have to endure. Or watching you reading for hours, chuckling at little passages you like. Seeing how you squint when you take in the details while you embroider a piece of fabric.” 

You pause to cup his face in your hands and smother him with gentle kisses, starting at his jaw, moving up to his nose and then his eyes. Astarion remains silent, graciously relishing your warmth. 

Your words and touch are like a balm, and not for the first time he wonders how he came to deserve such kindness.

“Your skin is cold, yes, but no one has ever kept me this warm when being in their presence. You’re brave, and despite everything you had to endure, you turned into this wonderful man I came to love more than everything I ever held dear. You're most precious to me Astarion, and I never want to spend a day without knowing you by my side.”

It’s not often that Astarion finds himself speechless, and yet your genuine affection robs him of the ability to respond. He has to hold back tears that dwell behind his fluttering lashes.

Deprived of his ability to speak he can only press a kiss to your forehead, followed by another peck to the tip of your nose, before his lips crash into yours – hastily, in need of you.

Astarion can sense your pulse quickening as his tongue enters your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips while your hand runs through his hair. 

He gently bites your lower lip, the initial rush of his kiss replaced by a sudden tenderness, a flutter spreading right where his dead heart once beat.

Astarion has never felt like this with anyone but you. Perhaps you've turned him into a love-struck maiden after all, he thinks with a smile as he kisses you once more, gentle and soft, before your lips part and he glances at your endearing eyes, finding his voice again.

“I love you too, you cheeky little thing. Even if you have the guts to describe me like a grandmother first, and then almost make me weep from your loving words,” he chuckles while grasping the fabric of your nightgown to pull you closer against his body.

Astarion is used to conceal his emotions behind his jesting shell, and yet when he’s with you, his façade naturally crumbles.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply fondly.

“But honestly… Thank you,” Astarion speaks softly. “For seeing me, like no one else does.” His words come out raw, honest. “You know I don't pray to any of the gods, but if I did, I'm sure I would've caught myself thanking them for bringing you into my life. You're a vision, and through the time I spend with you, it almost feels like my dead heart starts beating again.”

“You’d better stop with that loving talk yourself, before we'll both start to weep,” you laugh as you reach for the corner of your eye, a single wet streak glistening on your skin.

Astarion moves up to kiss it away. “As much as I like to revel in our mutual affection, I don't wish to see more of your tears.”

“Well, perhaps we should call it a night then. I’m certain I’ll find some rest soon,” you whisper as you shift closer in the crook of his arm. 

“You truly should, as I'm positive there’ll be more shenanigans awaiting us tomorrow,” Astarion replies and places a kiss on your hair. “Sleep well, my love.”

“You too, Astarion,” you hum, sounding slightly weary again. Maybe sleep has decided in your favour after all, he thinks as he notices your breath becoming more even.

When you finally doze off in the safety of his embrace, Astarion's chest is filled with warmth over the love he holds for you.

Masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion brainrot #bg3 x you #reader insert #astarion oneshot #fluff #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion x gn reader #baldur's gate x reader #astarion imagine #astarion fic

[allbark-no-bite]

Don’t Say Love || Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: you notice Rafe is different in the mornings, softer in someways. Definitely not in others

word count: 2.1k

warnings: 18+ smut, wouldn’t consider anything in here a OBX3 spoiler

author’s note: this one’s pretty short and sweet. enjoy :)

Propped up only by my own elbow and a tangle of his limbs, I caress his timelessly drawn face. There's a half smile underneath my fingers, and I pass my index finger over his mouth. My finger ventures past his lips, pushing them aside to reveal glossy white teeth. Rafe reels his head back slightly as to ward off my ridiculous ministrations.

"What are you doing?" His tone verges on the rhetorical side, obviously possessing little interest in entertaining whatever I'm up to but willing to amuse me for now. It's the least he could do after being inside me just a few hours ago.

Nevertheless, I am relentless, as with all things in life and when he returns to my reach, rather than answering him, I pursue my venture again. This time he allows it, his lip curling upwards to indulge me further. My finger runs along the slick gloss of his pearly teeth — teeth that have both scraped along the tender skin of my throat and aligned on occasion to remind me of just what made him so attractive. I rather adored his pristinely bleached smile and it's viscous canines.

"I love you," I whisper to him. It means no more than the obscenities that I moaned into his mouth last night as he ground his hips into me. It's not a dramatic proclamation of my affection for him, nor a confession in the slightest. I just—I like him. I like him differently than I have ever liked anyone else.

He breaks into a smile and scoffs, almost laughing as he falls backs onto the mattress. "Don't say that," he admonishes gently.

I bite the bottom of my lip to keep from laughing myself. This whole thing was ridiculous. Turning to catch his gaze again, we smile at each other, lips pressed together to convey what we won't say out loud. Something inside me knows he won't be this way tomorrow. He won't share this same look with me, won't be this gentle or placid again.

The thing is, I would go all in if he let me. Would place all my cards on the table if he said he wanted me to. He needs a four? Sure, I've got a four. What else? I would willingly give him everything.

Laying in his bed together the morning after a party is an occurrence that has become more and more common over the past month. Admittedly a welcome one. We're not a item, probably never will be, but it's nice to think that he's mine for now.

With Rafe, things between us are so utterly simple. I don't think I've ever had so much fun with one person. And it's not even that he's so entirely special or even the love of my life. He's cocky and charming and a bit of a jerk at times, but I like that about him.

Sometimes, while we're laying in the darkness together, he tells me that if he had grown up differently he would be less of a nervous wreck and more honest. I tell him that I grew up mostly alone, in a small little house with my alcohol obsessed father, who was still growing up himself when he became a dad. That nothing was ever enough, but how was I supposed to know the difference? I tell him that his family is alright because at least he has siblings and a father who loves him, even if that love is questionable.

He smiles softly and pulls my hand away from his mouth, kissing the palm of it tenderly. His lips grace the inside of my wrist and warmth spreads through my naked body. I slip my leg over his waist, pulling myself on top of him. The white sheets that have been doing very little to cover our bareness slip further down my waist — I am sure much to his enjoyment. His broad chest expands as he breathes in, and I watch the steady rise and fall of it.

"Quit doing that."

"Doing what?" he asks, his voice still gruff with sleep, wondering what I could possibly be on about this time.

"That panty-dropping smile. It's ridiculous."

Twinkling, his blue eyes gaze up at me, as if storing the image of me to his memory. His billowy white shirt is barley enough to cover the top of my thighs from where I'm straddled over him, pining his hips to the plush mattress. The light coming in from the early morning sun seeps in through the curtains, slowly swallowing everything in his bedroom whole and washing us in gold.

"It worked, didn't it?" he chuffs, lazily sliding a warm palm up my bare thigh. Timidly, he hooks a finger on the edge of the sheet bunched around my waist and tugs it back slightly. Without an ounce of shame, his eyes dip down to indulge in my bareness. "God, you're so fucking sexy," he groans, his head falling back onto the pillow for dramatic effect.

Laughing, I lean down to kiss his puffy lips, and he graciously meets me part of the way. I pull away to press my lips to his chin, and then his jaw, and then his collar bone, spending no more time on the next than the first until I reach his shoulder. This time, I kiss the firm muscle there, lingering to drag my nose along his skin. His scent engulfs me – manly, with the lingering traces of expensive cologne and the musk of sex.

With all the tenderness that I can muster, I attach my lips to the hollow of his throat, close my eyes and breathe him in. I want to remember him. All of him. My tongue smooths across his salty skin, working to soothe the already bruising flesh. Beside my ear, the swallow of his throat echos clearly, but he doesn't budge beneath me. His skin tastes salty and raw, unsullied by the usual cleanly redolence of woody soap and washing detergent. I continue to suck until his taste is tinged coppery, and only then do I release him. The imprint remains after I pull away, the impression red and tender on his throat.

There, in the bruising flesh of his skin, is my only claim to him.

In a way, it is impressive — his charisma. He is so good at giving me nothing at all and making me feel as though I have everything. He breathes my name and it sounds like his religion. I'm an atheist, truthfully, but I have come to believe that religion is mostly subjective anyhow. I'm certain the golden cross around Rafe's neck means very little to him.

His jaw cracks open in a yawn, revealing pink gums and pearly teeth again as he reaches his arms over his head and flexes his legs beneath me. I reach out to graze my knuckles along his jaw, reveling in the barely there bristles and the way the sun catches on them, turning blonde to gold. In the morning light, his eyes shine wet with a combination of bleary affection and sleep.

After stretching his body into wakefulness, Rafe grabs my face in his large hands and draws me towards him, kissing my forehead, then my nose, and then the corners of my mouth. His thumbs caress my cheekbones, petting aside lose strands of hair.

"I've got some things to take care of today," he informs me vaguely while gently removing me from the entanglement of his body. Suddenly he's not underneath me anymore, and I'm left on his pristine mattress alone.

It's my turn to stare as he shuffles around the room. Smiling smugly to myself, I watch as he tugs on a fresh pair of boxers from the floor, the material fitting snuggly around him.

"Yeah?" I hum, trying not to sound too disappointed. "What kinds of things?" I really don't care, just want to ask him to stay a while longer, but I'm not sure I should push my luck.

"Family stuff," he answers mindlessly, effectively putting a stop the the conversation as he turns away. His retreating back gives me a perfect display of his sinewy body as he walks into the connecting bathroom. I wait, listening to the sound of water splash into the sink and Rafe brushing his teeth before I muster up the will to get out of his warm bed.

The title is cold against my bare feet, and I whine at the unpleasantness of the sensation. Immediately seeking the comfort of Rafe's warmth again, I curl around him from behind, my face pressed into his neck. He hums from around his toothbrush, one palm leant against the counter as he scrubs with the other.

Presented with the opportunity in which both of his hands are occupied, my own hand that is splayed across his stomach slides downwards. His blue eyes flicker up to mine in the reflection of the mirror. Teasingly, I cup my hand to palm his crotch.

He's already hard, straining against the thin fabric of his boxers. His nostrils flare, toothbrush still in his mouth as my hand slides back up, fingers slipping under the waistband of his boxers, warming to his skin.

Rafe dips down to the sink to spit and rinse his mouth before straightening, both palms gripping the counter. His chest heaves, muscles sliding over his ribs when I take him in my hand. He's heavy and throbbing. There is nothing deceiving about what's being concealed within the confines of his pants.

"You gotta go?" I ask softly, kissing between his tensed shoulder blades as my thumb swipes over his weeping tip. His hips stutter into my hand at the motion.

Rafe swallows heavy, head dipped down as he shakes it. "No, no," he dismisses, his voice thick. He clears his throat. "If you stop now I'll never get that thing tucked into my pants."

I nearly laugh against his back, pressing my lips against his impossibly warm skin again. His blue eyes narrow at me jadedly through the mirror. Not funny, is what that look means.

I pump him lazily a few times, twisting my wrist as my hand slides up and down his shaft. He's already slick with precum and likely very close to coming. There's an a large portion of it already leaking through the front of his navy blue boxers.

"Fuuuuck, baby," he moans, tucking his nose into his shoulder to get a grip on himself. "Jesus—fuck me."

With a whimper that's a dignified as he can muster, his body jerks when I rub my thumb over the swollen pink head. He's breathing hard at this point, trying to breathe and restrain himself at the same time. He won't let go until I say so.

"Good boy," I murmur softly, my lips attached to his shoulder, the top of his spine — the spine that I'm noticing is becoming less and less ridged with each passing week. With his dad off in Guadeloupe, his posture has lost the intensity that it usually carries. His brow has softened too, and he smiles a bit more often.

“You're a good boy, Rafe," I repeat. He is. He's good to me. He can be a good guy when he wants to be. I think people are so focused on this preconceived idea of him that he just goes with it rather than fighting it.

He whines, with his eyes closed, jaw slack, and head hanging down. I change the pace, alternating between pumping him until he's clinging to the sink and going so slow that his hips buck up into my fist, chasing what I won't give him.

"Please, (y/n)," he finally asks, his voice strained as he pants.

I hum, my body lounging nonchalantly against his back, admiring his ability to keep his composure for so long. He's beautiful like this, golden skin flushed red, chest heaving. So much to be trusted with in my hands.

The moment I give him the okay, he's spilling into my hand, his hot release dripping down my fingers and I'm sure the front of his boxers. He sags against the sink, body limp and boneless as the high of his orgasm fades away.

Smiling privately to myself at his sudden lethargy, I draw my hand away as he gathers himself. There's a crumpled towel on the floor that I use to wipe my hand. I’m not entirely sure it was clean in the first place.

Rafe nabs it from me when I’m done and uses it to clean himself up as well. Then, as if he was not doubled over, receiving a handjob against the sink moments before, he splashes cold water on his face and slips out of the bathroom. Through the doorway, I can see him opening and closing drawers as he searches for clothes.

"Very dignified," I hum watching him tug his pants on out of the corner of my eye. "Coming in your boxers."

"Shut up."

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe fic #rafe smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #obx x reader #obx smut

[noxtivagus]

pondering on the meaning of our existence is so fun

#🌙.rambles #i don't think 'fun' is the most appropriate word to use but #it also applies so that's alright #in life the journey is more important than the endpoint #but sometime's i really just can't help but wonder and reflect on #what meaning lies in all the memories we make? all these connections we have and thoughts and emotions and everything #and then. thinking abt myself again oh my god #bcs i am very curious about our world. i want to understand how it works #how do we live? how does everything around us function? neuroscience/astrophysics/quantum physics are fields that i'm especially curious abt #but then. i also can't help but wonder about how nice it could be if #i could indulge and engage more in actual life...? 'indulge/engage' really are appropriate words here i think bcs #i often feel distant from my reality. or restrained #i can't fully accept and properly 'live' because #i'm not really sure why actually. but i'm the kind of person that thinks and thinks and thinks a lot #feels like i'm watching the world from the outside #and sometimes i wonder about how it would be like to completely be a part of it #to indulge myself selfishly like that #the fact that i'm even alive and human is a mystery to me that i really want to grasp and understand #ever since i was a kid i've always been rather sensitive to my surrounds in a way that #it feels like i'm connected to stuff like nature and yeah more deeply than your average person #it's a nice otherworldly feeling. lonely yeah but it's very interesting #but then yeah... other than those kinds of sciences i also find the society we live in to be very interesting #humanity. the way we work and connect and the way our lives flow #i've always loved helping others but i'm not sure if i can really do that properly when i'm so distant #it's like before again. back then. when i was rather disconnected from reality #or maybe it's bcs it's nearly 11 pm rn #either way i need to be able to find and manage and sustain a balance #mhm so much to do but i'll try n sleep early today bcs i'll be busy tmrrw :') #tired drained n overwhelmed w everything in existence :< #for the past week or so i think i've been sleeping at 6 am everyday. oh my god i need to take better care of myself

[permanentswaps]

Breaking Eric’s Trust Pt. 2

Read Part 1, written by vice versa swaps, here.

Will:

After the swap, we walked back through the parking lot and Bryce drove me back to my new home. My new body was much leaner than I was used to, making me feel a bit disoriented as I walked through the door. But I couldn't deny the appeal of Bryce’s youthful a physique – even if it was very different from the heavy muscles I'd worked for decades to build on my own body.

Entering Bryce’s room, I took in the surroundings and decided to try my hand at some sketches.

"Let’s see if this really improves my art skills," I thought to myself.

I quickly found myself engrossed in the creative process, a feeling I'd been craving to get back to. As the sketches took shape, I couldn't help but admire the dexterity of my new hands.

Distracted, I gently traced my fingertips along the veins of my opposite hand. Slowly I traced up my forearm and to my bicep, which I flexed. I then moved my hand over to my muscular chest and grazing my new sensitive nipples. I raised my arm to flex in the mirror and thought to myself “This body may not be as strong as mine, but it’s hot as fuck. Why would Bryce ever want to give this up.”

Hot and bothered, I retreated to the bathroom where I stepped into the hot shower. Felling the hot water falling across my back, I lowered my right hand to my cock while feeling my muscles with my left.

“I’m so fucking sexy. I’m so fucking sexy.” I growled to myself, before eventually cumming across the shower wall. As I came down from climax, I shook off the thought, reminding myself I’m only borrowing this body.

Just as I finished up in the bathroom, my phone rang – it was Eric, asking to hang out. When Eric arrived, I greeted him with a smile, trying to act casual.

"Hey, Eric! What's up, man?" I, now in Bryce's body, said, attempting to sound as natural as possible.

"Not much, man! Just figured I'd swing by and see what you're up to," Eric replied.

I chuckled, "Oh, not much. Wanna play some Call of Duty?"

The two of us settled into the gaming setup, controllers in hand. As we played, I couldn't help but marvel at the experience of hanging out with my son from a different perspective.

In the midst of the gaming session, I saw this as my opportunity to ask about things I wouldn’t normally know about.

"How are you feeling about going away to school?" I asked, trying to keep the question casual.

"A bit nervous, but I’m mostly excited and ready to get out of the house – date some hot girls. I am worried about my dad though; it's gonna be tough for him to be alone like this, I think," Eric replied.

I felt a twinge of sadness at Eric's response but turned my focus back to the game.

Changing the topic, Eric asked, "How about you, how are you feeling about the gap year?"

I hesitated for a moment, then replied, "I'm not sure if it was the right choice, to be honest."

"Well, at least in a year, you'll still be off to college. Then, we’ll be able to hang all the time and you'll have your pick of all the guys there," Eric said with a playful grin.

I smirked to myself, "Yeah, that'll be great," before indulging in a brief fantasy about what it would be like to live Bryce’s life in college instead of just here at home.

Bryce

A week had passed since we visited the lab, and Mr. Sullivan and I had gotten surprisingly good at mimicking each other's mannerisms and habits. As we were packing up the car to move Eric up to campus, he casually asked, “Would it be alright if Bryce came with us to drop me off?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I responded, happy to not let Mr. Sullivan miss out on this big moment.

The three of us drove up to campus together, joking and listening to music the whole way. We grabbed a quick bite to eat before walking around the campus and bidding an emotional farewell. Mr. Sullivan, in my body, teared up a bit, to which Eric laughed and said, "Don't worry, dude. I'll FaceTime you all the time," before playfully punching his shoulder.

As we climbed back into the car to drive home, I realized this was the first time Mr. Sullivan and I had been alone together since the swap.

"How are you doing?" I asked, glancing at him.

"Alright, I guess. I'm just really going to miss him," Mr. Sullivan responded, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "The other night we were hanging out, and he told me he was worried about me, or you now, I guess. He thought I’d be lonely without him, and damn, I think he’s right."

"Oh, really? I'm sorry to hear that. But at least you know he cares," I said, attempting to offer some consolation.

"Yeah, I guess," he sighed.

"And hey, you've still got me," I added playfully, reaching over to place my thick, callused hand on his thigh. I gripped the steering wheel with the other hand, feeling the warmth radiating from him. It was clear he was blushing, and I couldn't help but smirk.

We pull into the driveway and stumble into the house. I pinned him up against the wall in multiple spots, and we shredded our clothes as we went. I was enjoying the virility of this body – I was strong before, but never like this.

Tossing my former body onto the bed, I asked, “What do you want me to do to you.”

Looking up and biting his lip submissively, Mr. Sullivan asked, “You know the other day at the lab when I said, ‘you can do whatever you want with my body when you’re in it.’” I nodded. “I really meant anything,” he said.

After loosening him up with my fingers, I rolled on a condom and began to slide myself into my former body’s tight hole. It had been a while since I had taken anything this big, and I could feel the tightness around my new cock. Yet, something wasn’t cutting it.

After a few minutes of fucking, I growled “Daddy wants to feel all of you, I hope you like it raw,” growled before taking off the condom and sliding back in. The ecstasy was almost too much to handle and we climaxed together shortly thereafter.

The next morning, I woke up in bed, feeling the warmth of sunlight filtering through the blinds. Stretching and yawning, I rubbed my face, the rough texture of a beard grazing my palms. Glancing to the other side of the bed, I saw Mr. Sullivan in my body still peacefully asleep.

As great as last night was, a slight twinge of remorse tugged at my emotions. The idea of betraying Eric's trust weighed heavily on my conscience.

Deciding to focus on the present, I smiled softly before leaning over and gently kissing Mr. Sullivan on the cheek just like he had done at the swap labs before we had exchanged bodies. As Mr. Sullivan stirred awake, I greeted Mr. Sullivan with a warm smile.

"Good morning," I said, still getting used to a deeper voice. "Sleep well?"

Mr. Sullivan rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Yeah, surprisingly well. This body of yours is quite comfortable."

I chuckled, "Glad to hear it,” before diving back in to start round two.

A few months later

Over the course of the fall, Bryce (we’d begun to refer to each other using our former names) and I navigated the complexities of each other's. I was pretty successful in fighting my lonely streak, having met a lot of new friends at the gym and through my new local softball league.

Meanwhile Bryce was also working out like crazy and had flourished in his artistic pursuits, getting admitted to an art fellowship program that he could do for the rest of his gap year.

Hidden from prying eyes, our secret relationship also continued to thrive. Even though we didn’t tell Eric, he still clocked the positive change. A few weeks ago, during a Facetime call after a particularly enjoyable afternoon session with Bryce, he teased, "Wow, Dad, you're looking great. Honestly glowing... what … or who … have you been getting up to?" I laughed it off in the moment, but as time dragged on the weight of lying to Eric grew heavier on my conscience.

Finally, it was now the day before Thanksgiving break, meaning that Eric will be home tomorrow for the first time since we dropped him off. While Bryce had been up to visit him a couple of times, I still hadn’t seen him in person for months.

I invited Bryce over to the house, ready to figure out what to do. We laid together on the bed. I sat leaning against the headboard and some pillows and his head rested gently on my bare chest.  

"I gotta level with you, Bryce. I'm feeling really guilty,” I said, using my thick fingers to stroke Bryce’s torso through his halfway unbuttoned shirt. “I'm not sure I can keep up this lie to Eric much longer," I confessed.

Will, his expression thoughtful, suggested, "Well what if we just came clean to him now?"

"No, if we did that, I don't think he'd ever trust either of us ever again," I replied.

"We could swap back now," he proposed tentatively, a look of disappointment flickering across his face.

Pulling his lean body in closer to mine, I smirked. Nibbling on ear I said in a raspy whisper, "You wear that ass way better than I ever did, no way in hell am I going to make you give it up."

He looked at me, blushing, and I continued, "No, as much as it kills me, I think we need to end our relationship."

Will nodded, another look of disappointment flashing across his face before he replied, “Alright Will, if that’s what you really think is best.”

“But before we do, I need to feel my tight ass one last time,” I growled.

I got up and moved to his side before finishing unbuttoning his shirt. Then, gently running my hands from his torso around to his lower back, I motioned to take of his pants and briefs.

As I ate out his ass, I could feel my beard scratching against his smooth cheeks. Once he was loose, I got on my knees, raised his legs over my shoulders, and slid my raw cock into his tight hole.

After what feels like hours of fucking in every position imaginable, he’s finally riding on top.

Throwing his head back in ecstasy at me he moans to himself, “Oh fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. This body is so fucking hot.” Feeling himself up, he continues, “This is all mine. I deserve this. I am such a fucking hot hunk.”

I look up at him, a twinge of nostalgic regret washes over me. But as quickly as that feeling arrives, Bryce looks down at me and says, “Oh yeah, and it’s all thanks to you Will.” A naughty smirk crossing his face he continues, “Tell me how much you want me.”

Picking up the pace of my upward strokes I grunt, “Fuck yeah Bryce, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Fuck right I am, say my name again” he yells back.

“Unghhh Bryyyyceeeee,” I moan. “Take that dick, Bryce,” I grunt, grabbing his cock.

He leans over moaning, “Oh fuck yeah Daddy, I’m cumming” before kissing me and gently stroking my sensitive nipples.

That is enough to send me over the edge, coating his insides with my seed as we cum simultaneously.

Basking in the afterglow, I feel my meat still throbbing deep inside him.  “Well even if we can’t be together, I still hope we can do that every once in a while,” he said, continuing to feel up my sweaty, muscular torso.

Biting my lip, I reply, “I don’t see why not.”

[problemcore]

vent in tags woohoo ✌️

#chris noises #misc #vent #god my entire body is in pain #i tried to sleep but my body is like. rejecting it #woke up after 5 hours. its almost 3 am now. #all my muscles in my body hurt. im starving. im dehydrated. i fucking hate this man #i wanna eat but we dont rly have any food plus I'll probably feel like vomiting afterwards #been feeling like vomiting for the last 22 hours. #my cat tried to comfort me i think. which is rly funny becuz she is a quality time cat not a physical affection cat so she's just #hanging out in an approximate distance from me #I'll try uh. taking care of myself now. gonna be a rough few months for me i think. #god i still cant. believe it. #alright uh. tysm for reading. hope you're taking care of yourself #remember to take breaks if you need em. and indulge in comforts or distractions #i love you. we're gonna make it.

[l0v3tast3]

spring fever! — tf141 men

mw2 men helping catgirl!reader through her heat! (simon riley, john mactavish, kyle garrick, john price)

✎ tags: mdni! nsft, catgirl!reader, breeding kink, edging, overstimulation, oral, thigh-riding, praise kink, degradation, abuse of pet names, cockwarming, size kink, size difference, fluff mixed in <3

✎ word count: 2.3k words (not proofread)

✎ author's note: this is purely 100% self-indulgent because i can write whatever i want teehee :] ever since i realized i can just write the smut i want to read myself my life has improved significantly, also i am working on another one of these with phillip, alejandro and könig is anyone would wanna read that (o･ω･o)

masterlist | requests are open!

♡ simon riley — "don't act all shy now, love. weren't y'just begging me for this?" — simon isn't sure if you know what you're getting yourself into while you grind yourself down against his thigh, your juices already soaking through your underwear and quickly making a dark spot on his jeans. his resolve only lasts until you cum just from humping his leg. he has you folded into a mating press before long, your legs hooked over his elbows. — outside of your shared home, simon isn't much of a talker, but the sight of you absolutely brainless under him draws out the filthiest words from his mouth. "makin' such a fuckin' mess on my cock, y'gonna clean it up for me sweetheart? i know how much y'love when i fuck your mouth. or do you only want my cum stuffed into this little cunt? want me to put a baby in y'love? yeah? that's all you can think about right now, isn't it? all y'need is my cock inside you, such a good little whore f'me." — you should have known before you asked for his help that he would abuse the living hell out of your tail; how could he not when it's makes you cum nearly instantly? it doesn't take you long to learn that once he flips you over, you'll soon be an overstimulated mess. simon can't get enough of how you react when he pushes you to that point, clawing at the sheets to try to leverage yourself away from his onslaught and pushing your hips back against him to take more of his thick cock at the same time. your words get jumbled up and incoherent, broken little pleas choked out between moans and cries. eventually he'll slow down to shallow, drawn out rolls of his hips, laying his titan-sized body over yours and asking you what you want. when you keen and press up against him, whimpering his name and trying to push your hips into him again, he'll tell you that you're such a good girl for him and pick up the pace. — he won't edge you as much as he overstimulates you. simon edges you more as a "break", both for himself and for you. even with your heat making you able to take a lot more than what you usually can, he still knows not to push the limits of your body too far. so he'll make sure to tie your hands to the headboard and bury his fingers in your sopping wet pussy in a slow, languid rhythm and lave circles over your clit with his tongue, drawing away each time he feels you tightening up until you're sobbing. you beg him to fuck you and let you cum, trying as much as you can to move against the weight of his hand pressed against your stomach. once he's sure that just touching your clit would probably make you cum, simon finally relents. he'll graze his hands over your thighs, watching as your body twitches just from that. "'s alright love, i'll make you cum. so fuckin' sensitive, wish i could keep ya like this, all needy and sweet f'me," he says quietly, lining the head of his cock up with your dripping hole and bullying his cock in slow. he'll grip your waist tight enough to leave yet another set of bruises when you cum around him, fighting to not cum himself as he fucks you through your mind-shattering orgasm. — despite his roughness, simon will take care of you through all of it without a single (wholehearted) complaint. he'll grumble here and there, chastising you when you'd rather ride him than eat the food he's holding in front of you, but there's a hint of concern to it; simon loves you too much to hurt you or to see you get hurt, so he makes overly sure that all your needs (besides being fucked) are constantly met.

♡ john mactavish — "c'mon bonnie, if ya want my help then y'gotta ask nicely." — johnny loves you, every part of you, but one of the things that he especially loves is your heats. he relishes in the few days it lasts (rejoices on the rare occasion it lasts almost a week). your neediness, your dependency on him, the adoration and near-worship that you finally weren't too shy to show. he loved taking care of you, from bending you over every surface in your home and tugging on your overly-sensitive tail to make you cum fast to spoon-feeding you while you were semi-lucid. — he shows you the same love and worship as always, of course, but he can't help being a near-sadist most of the time. you're just so adorable like this, so pliant and always wanting more from him, anything and everything he would give you. it pulled out a different side of him. john was always a tease, almost always in control, but it was like your greed and lust became his too. "oh, i know bonnie, i know, i'll make ya cum, i promise." he, of course, breaks this promise until you're crying, choking out jumbled pleas for him to make you cum. every few times he pulls away just before you fall over the edge (which doesn't take long at all) he comes back up to be face-to-face with you and scratch and pet the ears sticking out from the top of your head. it just melts you, makes you so cooperative, so brainless and compliant. — when you're nearing your limit, about to pass out, johnny finally gets sweet. he'll give you whatever you ask for, smooth his hands over your overstimulated skin and fuck you slow. he sings you praises for how well you did and talks you through it before you slip into unconsciousness for a few hours, until your body wakes you up again (or his). "sweet lass, just one more for me- fuck, know you can do it. hah- doin' so good. you can, just a little more, i'll make it feel so- so good, bonnie. love y'so much like this, so cute, all f'me. ya gonna cum, sweetheart? fuck! ah, so tight around me, y'want my cum? yeah, good lass." — johnny doesn't leave your side until you're well past recovered; he'll take such good care of you, makes sure you drink excessive amounts of water, makes sure you eat plenty and washes your hair for you in the shower (he fucks you before he cleans you off). when you start waking up more sore than horny, he massages just about every muscle in your body, drags you into a hot bath, and swaddles you in a nest of his clothes and blankets and pillows to rest some more.

♡ kyle garrick — "fuck, slow down, pretty. gonna help you, swear it." — kyle is so sweet with you, kissing you softly and guiding you up and down on his cock after he makes you cum several times with his mouth and fingers. he's so gentle; he'll do his best to calm your frayed nerves, kissing you all over and rubbing his hands over every inch of your skin, whispering choked praises to you as he lets you use him. kyle indulges in your every desire, happily doing whatever you ask him for; he just can't say no to you when you're looking at him with teary, pleading eyes. — once he really gets going, kyle gets more rough with you, manhandling you into different positions so he can fuck his thick cock even deeper into your sopping pussy. he's still sweet with you, groaning out how good you are for him and how much he loves you like this, so needy for him while you're cumming for the umpteenth time that night. once he finally placates you for the time being, he hugs you tight against him as you're both passing out. — he doesn't have much need to make you more content by scratching at your fuzzy ears, but he still loves doing it just to see you melt, just to see your pretty lips spread into a dopey smile and feel you nudge into his hand. kyle doesn't abuse your tail much either; he'll only tug on it when you're being bratty, trying to sink your little fangs in too deep or trying to claw yourself away from the overstimulation before he's done with you. "c'mon baby, just one more for me, you're doin' so- fuck, so good- ahh, that's it pretty, you can take it, know y'can. i know, i- i know, 's okay baby, fuck- y'gonna cum? cum for me, c'mon-" you're both coming together, bodies locking up against each other as he fucks into you a few more times before he collapses next to you, cupping your face with his hands and kissing you all over. — kyle's so good at taking care of you, he loves that you trust him enough to let him be with you for your heat, and he doesn't take that for granted. he'll basically treat you like a goddess the entire time (as if he already didn't the rest of the time). he'll carry you everywhere, chuckling when you cling onto him and nuzzle your face into his neck. he cooks or orders whatever you want, puts your favorite salts and scents in the baths he eases you into (despite your many protests), gives you however much of his wardrobe you need for your makeshift nest. kyle is just so whipped for you, his smile always stretching wide every time he sees your tail curl up in joy because of something he does or says.

♡ john price — "it hurts, sweetheart? can't have that now, can we?" — john swears up and down that he tries his damndest to be gentle and slow and sweet with you. and he is... at first. when you clamber into his lap, pleading for his help while you kiss and nip at his neck, he'll pick you up effortlessly and take you to your shared bed within seconds. after that, it's only moments before he's stripped you down and is worshipping your body- partially because he loves every inch of you and never goes a day without showing you that affection, and partially because of how much more sensitive your entire body becomes during your heat. — it's something he becomes obsessed with pretty rapidly; john will practically study the effects your heat has on you. he won't admit it, but it's obvious how much he gets off on it. how you're so desperate for him, his touch and voice and anything and everything he'll give you. how upset you get when he tries to get you to stay in bed while he goes to a different room of the house. how you need him. it's what slowly drives him to his breaking point where he just can't hold back with you any longer. — you can feel his touch getting heavier, fingers digging into your hips deeper and tongue pressing harder against your clit. when you're coming down from your second high and already being pushed towards your third of the night, your grip on his cropped hair gets tighter and the only sentences you can form are various versions of "mmnh- ple-ease! john- ah, please, need you!". that's when he can feel the last of his self-control slipping from his hands. in record time he'll be throwing your legs over his shoulders, smashing his lips into yours and easily pushing into your drenched cunt. — john always finds it incredibly difficult to say "no" to you, but it won't stop him from being a horrendous tease. he'll tie your hands together behind your back or to the headboard or to your ankles and edges you until fat tears roll down your cheeks (which doesn't take very long). when he gets you to that point he'll wipe away your tears and kiss you sweetly. "shh, i know sweetheart, i'm sorry- just love hearin' you beg. y'did so well for me. think you deserve a reward, yeah?" john will always act sorry after he edges you or doesn't let you touch him or ignores your pussy for more than ten seconds, but with each broken whine and sobbed plea his cock grows impossibly harder. — it's a given that john will exploit the hell out of the effects of playing with your ears and tail. each time he edges you, the number of times he takes a minute to scratch at your ears and coo honeyed words down at you increases. it becomes a routine that after those sessions, when he's fucked you slow enough that you've calmed down a bit, he'll start up with your tail. and when he's gotten his fill of your begging for him to give it a break, he'll act sorry about that too. — as each stretch of your sex marathon comes to an end before you both pass out, he'll wind you both down by sitting you on his lap and having you cockwarming him while he smokes a cigar. you'll bury your face in his chest and start dozing off, worn out for the time being. john will use his free hand to trace his fingers up and down the curves and lines of your back, grinning to himself when you let you little whimpers whenever you move. "finally getting tired, hm? gonna wake us both back up if you keep moving like that, sweetheart."

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish #soap #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick #gaz #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #female reader #reader insert #— lilly writes! ♡

[lostgirlmuseum]

Pulse 💗

Summary: Bucky can hear your heartbeat through the wall, and he can tell everything isn’t alright.

Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader

Words: 600 (exactly 600, holy moly)

Warnings: None really, just mentions of anxiety and adhd. Wrote this within an hour, sorry if its bad

A/N: Self indulgent fic alert! This goes out to all my peeps who struggle with ADHD/anxiety. It sucks, but hang in there!

Divider credit: @saradika

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” you called, not looking up from the papers on your desk.

A brief second passed, and the door creaked open. A cautious Bucky peeked his head in.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked.

You suddenly became aware of your leg bouncing 70 miles an hour, and forced yourself to stop. 

“Yes, why?” You replied, ignoring the urge to get up and walk around.

“Well, I—” he hesitated, and brought his hand to rub the back of his neck, “I was passing by and I heard your heartbeat going really fast—super hearing and all that,” he awkwardly chuckled.

“120,” you stated, glancing at your watch.

“What?”

“My heart rate is 120 right now.”

“That’s pretty high for just sitting,” he responded, having a hard time hiding his concern.

“Well, y’know, anxiety,” you breathily laughed, but it wasn’t that funny.

“What are you anxious about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Nothing.” You sighed, lowering your pen and facing him. At this point he was now in your room, perched in front of your door.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Seriously, I’m kinda freaking out over nothing right now.”

“C’mon, you’re always telling me I’m valid for having concerns, you are too.”

“No, I mean there is literally no singular thing I’m anxious about right now—it’s just physical anxiety, the general feeling that I’m going crazy, or dying, I don’t know, both I guess. That sounds so dramatic. I really am fine. I mean, I’m not fine, but I am, yeah?” You rambled on and on, and cursed yourself when you noticed your leg had started bouncing again.

“I don’t think you’re okay, do you want me to bring you to Dr. Cho?”

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t think there’s much she can do. The worst of this should pass in thirty minutes anyway, it’s just my meds.”

“Oh.” 

You could tell Bucky wanted to ask more, but wasn’t sure if it was polite.

“I have ADD. ADHD, whatever you want to call it. So I take medicine so I can focus on certain tasks, like these reports. And it does help me focus, but it’s also a stimulant, so it also gives me a lot of anxiety, which is totally awesome!” You scoffed.

“Why do you keep stopping your leg from bouncing?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to annoy you.”

“If bouncing your leg makes you feel better, it doesn’t bother me.”

“I feel like I’m embarrassing myself,” you whined. 

Beep.

You looked at your watch.

“Oh, look at that, 126!”

“Do you—would…would a hug be something that would help you? Calm you down?” He offered, casually putting his arms out for emphasis.

“Sure, Bucky,” you smiled, and stood up to meet him halfway. You knew it wouldn’t fix it, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

Bucky wrapped you in a big embrace, and you were shocked by how warm and teddy-like it was. You gave a small sigh, and rested your face in his neck, knowing you weren’t going to be the first to let go.

He held onto you for longer than you expected, just calmly swaying together in your room. 

To your dismay, he eventually let go of you. You were about to thank him and return to your work, but he gently grabbed your wrist and brought your watch to his sight. 

“107. Good, but I think we can do better than that,” he sweetly smiled, and wrapped you back up into his arms. 

“It might take a while.” You mumbled into his shirt.

“As long as it takes.” He cooed.

A/N: Should be either A) studying for a history exam I have tmw, or B) writing my stupid essay that the rough draft is due tmw, but I wrote this instead bc I’m procrastinating  HELP ME

#bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes blurb #bucky blurb #bucky x gn!reader #bucky barnes x gn!reader

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

it wasn't me [t.rodman x reader]

prompt: trinity refuses admit to stealing your clothes

author notes: the word for this mini fic is "steal" obviously. i swear this is the most trinity coded fic i have written for her. i'm knocking out a request for more trin fics and helping myself write more, killing two birds with one stone. hope y'all like it 💞

trinity has a problem. actually the right word would be an addiction. she can't stop herself from stealing your clothes. the mix of your perfume and body wash you use rubs off on your clothes, making her heart all happy so can you really blame her? it was a cute habit except for when you needed to actually wear your clothes and half of your closet was gone. still you never stop her, so trinity happily indulges in her you-based addiction.

the only downside of this is the fact trinity does not like admitting it. even if everyone obviously knows it. this isn't even due to a pride thing, the american player just doesn't like to admit it. in her mind technically your clothes are her clothes so is it really stealing?

"baby! have you seen my mickey mouse pajama pants? it's going to be a little chilly and i wanna wear them," you shout out as you look through the closet in your bedroom. trinity comes into the room when she responds, "nope. haven't seen it, babes." she leans against the door frame, watching you look through your closet.

unlike you, trinity was already dressed. it was around ten am and practice started at twelve pm, so you forced her to get up eight to get ready. she groaned the entire time and demanded kisses after she did every part of her routine. you happily obligated every time.

"ugh.." you let out a groan. just deciding to give up on your idea of being extra comfy in your pajama pants and instead grabbing some black sweatpants. at least it matches your white graphic tee and the grey jacket you planned to wear out. you turn, dropping the sweatpants on your bed before coming over to trinity. "are you sure you haven't seen them?" you mumble into her chest after hugging her. trinity straightens up to hug you back properly. swaying a bit as she rests her face against the top of her head.

"nope. i don't even remember you having a pair of mickey mouse pajama pants. maybe you just made that up"

"wow, am i being gaslight right now?" you joke making her laugh loudly. the hug goes on for a long moment before you pull away. "gotta slip on these pants so we can go. i want to stop by that brunch place you like to get breakfast," you move away from the door and go to stand next to your bed.

"what? the spirit cafeteria breakfast food isn't good enough for you anymore?" trinity leans back against the doorframe. a badly hidden smirk on her lips as she watches you near your bed.

"don't you know? when someone gets famous they have higher standards. it comes with the fame," you put on a fake sad tone when saying the last sentence. trinity snorts, rolling her eyes. "oh god, where has my humble girlfriend gone?" she says.

"she's dead," you shrug before glancing at the clock sitting on one of your nightstands, "alright. get out so i can change."

"i can't watch my own girlfriend?"

"sorry, no. that choice expired after the last time we didn't go anywhere," you give her a fake pout before making a shoing gesture. the american player lets out a long groan before moving away from your room. going off into the kitchen to eat up half of your snacks.

it doesn't take long for you to get fully ready. having to also do your hair and find your training kit which somehow ended up in the guest bedroom. trinity and you leave out of the house at 10:40. with you carrying both of y'all bags since trinity claimed her arms hurt. you throw the bags into the back seat before getting into the driver's seat. trinity was already in the passenger seat before you put the bags away. you get ready to drive off, but is stopped by trinity saying, "wait!"

"what?" you look over at her, a confused expression on your face. the american player just smiles, "i have to go grab something. i forgot."

you just shrug when she gets out of the car. five minutes after going into the house, trinity comes back out. the shock on your face can't even be described as you watch trinity walk out of the house in your mickey mouse pajama pants. the one that she specifically said she didn't even knew you had.

trinity gets into the car just like before. snapping in her seat belt before looking over at you, "alright. let's go! i'm still starvinggg."

you give her a blank stare. thinking that would be enough for her to realize the current irony going on, but nope, trinity just looks away from you. focusing on connecting her playlist to the aux. "you know ashley texted me yesterday and she's actually getting along well in north carolina. i never thought i would hear her say that, weird," trinity's face scrunches up in slight disgust before shrugging.

"baby.."

"what?"

"why do you have on my pajama pants? i was looking for those!" you say as you pull out of the driveway. the american player side eyes you before looking out of the window instead of directly at you.

"i don't know what you're talking about," after saying this trinity tries to change the subject, but you aren't letting up. you keep reminding her of the earlier conversation you two had, but trinity denies that it even happens.

you drop the topic at brunch. enjoying the moments of eating nicely made bacon and pancakes while trinity gossips her head off. you try to bring it back up when y'all get back in the car to drive to practice, but trinity still doesn't let up so you drop it.

practice goes by smoothly with trinity annoying you every five minutes. you two go back to your place afterwards and slow down for the rest of the day. it's around ten pm when you bring the topic back up; and it wasn't even your fault.

trinity is in the shower while you're scrolling on twitter. mostly seeing fan tweets and bad jokes when a post about trinity catches your eye. on the tweet is the photo the washington spirit posted on instagram of trin's pre-practice outfit. she's waving in the photo while walking, with you trailing closely behind her. the tweet says the way the pants don't even reach trin's ankles. we all know who pants those are 😭

you immediately send that to trinity's phone. ready to start up the conversation once again after your thoughts were affirmed by some stranger on twitter; thank you to that fan.

© thinkingaboutjaedyn

#trinity rodman x reader #trinity rodman #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics

[cubarsis]

— acrylics | h. fort garcía

— synpsosis : hector loves being spoiled after his girl gets her nails done.

— fluff

— requests are open 💘

AS HECTOR HEARD THE FAMILIAR sound of keys jingling in the lock, his heart skipped a beat with anticipation. He knew his girlfriend was returning home from her nail appointment, and he couldn’t wait to see the beautiful new set adorning her fingers. As the door swung open, Hector’s eyes lit up at the sight of her, a smile spreading across his face.

Without hesitation, Hector enveloped her in a warm embrace, pulling her close and holding her tightly against him. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her familiar scent and reveling in the comfort of her presence.

“Missed me that much, huh?” his girlfriend teased, her voice laced with amusement as she gently poked him in the ribs. Hector chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her skin.

“Of course I did,” he replied.

His voice filled with sincerity as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Two hours without you on off days are boring.” His girlfriend snorted at his words, a playful glint in his eyes.

As Hector’s girlfriend proudly displayed her freshly manicured nails, he couldn’t help but smirk with satisfaction. The color he had chosen for her was even more stunning than he had anticipated, and it looked absolutely exquisite against her skin.

“Damn, I’ve got to hand it to myself, I’ve got impeccable taste,” Hector boasted, his voice filled with cocky confidence as he reached out to gently take her hand in his own. His fingers traced over the smooth surface of her nails, a smug grin playing on his lips as his fingertips move across the charms glued to her nails.

“I knew this color would look killer on you, but damn, I didn’t expect it to look this good,” he continued, his tone oozing with self-assurance.

“I mean, it’s like I’ve got a sixth sense for picking out the perfect shades, you gotta admit that. Always making sure my princess looks the prettiest.”

His girlfriend couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his playful manner of arrogance, but there was a hint of amusement dancing in her gaze.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” she teased, her lips quirking up into a smile as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Hector chuckled at her response, feeling a surge of satisfaction knowing that he had chosen something that made her happy.

“Now that I’ve paid for those nails, I think it’s only fair that I get what’s rightfully mine,” Hector declared, his tone playful yet assertive as he wagged a finger in mock admonishment.

His girlfriend raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she looked at him incredulously.

“Oh, really now?” she replied, her voice laced with amusement. “And what exactly do you think you’ve earned, Fort ?”

Hector grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

“Well, I believe I’ve earned myself some well-deserved head and back scratches,” he declared, his voice filled with mock seriousness. “After all, a man’s got to reap the rewards of his investment, am I right?” His girlfriend couldn’t help but burst into laughter at his audaciousness, shaking her head in amusement.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

she chuckled, her eyes sparkling with affection as she reached out to tousle his hair affectionately.

“But alright, I suppose I can indulge my big baby of a man.”

Hector’s grin widened into a satisfied smirk as he settled back on the couch, already feeling the anticipation building within him at the thought of the blissful pampering to come.

As Hector’s girlfriend settled onto the couch, he wasted no time in shifting his position to make himself comfortable. With a contented sigh, he stretched out his body, sprawling across the length of the couch, his head coming to rest on her soft thighs.

“Comfortable there, are you?” his girlfriend teased, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across his scalp. Hector nodded, a blissful smile playing on his lips as he snuggled further into her lap.

“Absolutely,”

he replied, his voice muffled by the fabric of her pants.

“Nothing beats having you as my personal pillow.” His girlfriend chuckled at his remark, her affectionate gaze warming his heart.

With a contented sigh, Hector closed his eyes and leaned into his girlfriend’s touch, relishing the sensation of her nails gently scratching against his scalp. As her fingers worked their magic, he couldn’t help but let out a low, rumbling groan of pleasure, the sound reverberating through his chest.

“God, that feels amazing,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he melted into her touch. His girlfriend chuckled softly, the sound like music to his ears as she continued to stroke his hair with expert precision.

As Hector basked in the pleasure of his girlfriend’s head scratches, he couldn’t resist unleashing his inner sassiness. With a playful smirk, he tilted his head back and fixed her with a smoldering gaze.

“Alright, alright, as much as I’m loving this,” he began, his voice dripping with playful arrogance, “I think it’s time for a little upgrade. You know, to keep up with my impeccable standards.” His girlfriend rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, but there was a glint of amusement dancing in her gaze.

“Oh, is that so?” she retorted, her tone teasing as she leaned in closer to him. “And what exactly does his highness require now?” Hector chuckled softly, reveling in the banter as he reached out to tug her closer to him.

“Well, for starters, how about some kisses?” he suggested, his voice smooth as silk.

“And maybe a little back caressing while you’re at it? You know, the charms on your fingers weren’t free of charge end you didn’t get my initial on your ring finger,” he whined in slight disappointment.

His girlfriend laughed at his audacity, shaking her head in mock disbelief as he whines.

As the night grew late, Hector and his girlfriend found themselves nestled in the comforting embrace of their shared bed, their bodies entwined in a symphony of warmth and affection. Hector’s girlfriend traced gentle patterns on his scalp with her newly adorned acrylic nails, the sensation lulling him into a state of peaceful relaxation.

But when Hector’s girlfriend pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, her lips lingering for a moment before planting another gentle kiss on his forehead, Hector felt a wave of tranquility wash over him.

With a contented sigh, Hector’s breathing slowed, his body gradually relaxing into hers as he surrendered himself to the comforting embrace of sleep.

His girlfriend watched him with a tender smile, her heart swelling with love for the man lying beside her, his features softened in the gentle glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains.

hectorth 24.

#ɞ 𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 #fc barcelona x reader #fcb x reader #hector fort garcia x reader #hector fort fluff #hector fort imagines #hector x reader #hector fort x reader #hector fort #fort x reader #footballer x reader #marc guiu x reader #pablo gavi x reader #pedri x reader

[lilozzzyo3569]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

OKAY so I cannot help myself I am madly in love with Ghost - you are dating Simon "Ghost" Riley and you are on your period- This is pure self indulgent fluff

SFW

Ghost is the type that when you're on your period is so sweet to you but like in a quiet subdued way

Ghost will sit with you on the couch and hold you while you snack

Ghost will rub your tummy when you are cramping or feeling swollen and generally uncomfortable

Ghost will let you cry on his chest when you are feeling especially emotional and run his fingers through your hair to soothe you

Ghost will rub your back and kiss your forehead and whisper "itll be a'right lovie, I gotcha"

Ghost with his big warm hands will let you lay on the couch with him using his front as a heater for your sore back and his hands as a heater for your abdomen

Ghost who has always been patient with you as you are always patient with him doesn't mind when you toss in turn in your sleep because he does the same thing

Ghost who doesn't say he loves you all the time but prefers to show his love and appreciation for you through acts of service

Ghost who lets you nap on his chest while he reads and drinks his afternoon cuppa

Ghost will sometimes even read whatever book he is re-reading aloud to you when you can't sleep

Ghost who doesn't understand what he did to deserve someone as beautiful, kind, understanding, patient, adorable and overall perfect as you

Alright so as I said before this is super self indulgent, and I am on my period and wish I had a big strong Simon "Ghost" Riley to comfort me. But alas I do not, but at least I have my imagination hahaha

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #cod fanfic #cod #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod

[just-some-random-blogger]

Go Walk

Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: "For the record," I mutter under my breath, "if this was Coachella, I wouldn't have ever driven off with a grandpa."

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, age gap w joel (≥10), chaotic mom!reader, petty!joel, baby girl!ellie, married couple fights™, angst?, fluff, slice of life, typos etc.

A/N: @sloanexx ito na. i snapped. indulge. also i havent proofread this so (: indulge in typos <3 I also cross-posted this on my AO3 <3 so yea lol Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace Technical p2 "Editorial"

The silence beyond the tires whirring on asphalt was cut by two words, "do it."

I ignore her.

"Do it."

I turn over my shoulder and stare at Ellie.

"Do it," she repeats as I look front, "it's just us and skeletons."

I roll my eyes, "ok."

"What? There were, like, 10 skeletons outside."

"You managed to count them all?" I cross my arms and look out from my side of the car.

"I did actually."

I lick my lips, eyes flickering to the driver who could not care less about our conversation.

"Do it."

I huff through my nose.

"Do it."

Joel's eyes flicker to the rear view mirror.

"Do it."

I shift in the front seat of the car.

"Do it," Ellie mutters louder, "Do it. Do it."

"Ellie, I swear to go-" I start.

"Do i-"

"Shut up," Joel grumbles

"..."

The tires scrape against the road. Ellie and I tense where Joel relaxes. His elbow goes on the side of the door, he leans his head in one hand while the other stays on the wheel.

I look to the rearview mirror. Ellie is looking at me. She mouths, "do it."

I press my lips and steal a look at Joel. He looks exasperated. I will get into trouble for this. But then again, when is he not exasperated, and when do I never not get into trouble?

Click. Off goes my seat belt.

Ellie's lips part.

Click. The window to my right goes down.

Ellie grins.

Quickly, I fold my knees and push myself up on my seat. I stick out my head and torso, flailing my hands up and out of the window. I shriek with glee. My hair flies back. Wind catches in my mouth. It's exhilarating.

Ellie cheers from the inside.

Rip. I am ripped back in, my shirt fisted in an iron clasp, my eardrums hammered by curses and growls laced with a Southern drawl, my eyes widened even through my squint of discomfort.

"ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE? WHY ARE YOU LETTING YOURSELF GET SUCKERED BY 12-YEAR-OLD?"

"I'M NOT TWEL-"

"It was my idea."

"That's what she wants you to think!"

"Hey!"

"Joel--" I huff.

He pulls away, closes the windows from the main panel, then grips both hands on the steering wheel.

"I was talking to her about going to Coachella," I trail off.

Joel scoffs, shaking his head, then turning back to me to give a gnarly stank eye, "does this fucking look like Coachella to you?"

I turn away from him and lick my teeth, "obviously it doesn't."

"Come on, Joel, she was just feeling sentimental," Ellie says, "it's nice not to be so--"

"Well, she better stop being sentimental real soon or it's going to get us all killed."

"Alright," I pinch my fingers together, "I'm sorry I did it, okay. But I already did it, there's no point in-"

"No!" Joel snaps, turning to me for a second, "you don't get to say that to me after pulling a stunt like that!"

"Joel, it's fine. I won't do it again-"

"No, it's not fine! What if someone heard us and comes-"

"No one's going to foll-"

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!"

"Ohemgee is that a truck following after-"

"Ellie," Joel growls, "I swear to g-"

"EXACTLY!" Ellie squeals, "NO ONE'S HERE!"

"I'm trying to keep you morons alive and you're purposefully making it harder!" Joel hisses.

I suck in a breath and place my hand on his arm, "Joel. Ok. I know-"

"It's not a big deal!" Ellie crosses her arms and leans back, "we're in the middle of nowhere for miles. You said it yourself."

"Ellie," I scold.

"Well," Joel huffs as he catches sight of our destination, "it will become a big deal once something bad happens, won't it?"

I recoil at his actions and huff. Ellie and I make eye contact, then I roll my eyes. I turn to the window, "for the record," I mutter under my breath, "if this was Coachella, I wouldn't have ever driven off with a grandpa."

Ellie slaps her hands on her mouth.

The tires skid. I shoot forward, held back only by the seatbelt I didn't even realize was put back on me. The engine hums and groans. Joel's knuckles turn white.

I turn to him. He grinds his teeth. My eyes widen as I turn to Ellie. We both chew our lips.

Joel slaps his hands on his lap as he turns to me, "by all means then," he motions, "feel free to walk."

Ellie's jaw slacks as she looks between us.

"What?" my upper lip curls.

Joel unlocks the door from the main control, "you can go scream at a tree and reminisce about Coachella outside the car."

I scoff and make a face of disbelief, "you want me to get out?"

Joel's face hardens. He doesn't respond though.

I trace my bottom lip with my tongue as I nod my head, "okay then."

"No don't lea- why are you getting out!" Ellie cries.

Thump. The door closes.

Skid. The tires grind against the asphalt as Joel drives off and Ellie twists to look at me from the backseat. Her eyes are wide, "YOU'RE ACTUALLY LEAVING HER."

"I gave her a choice," Joel notes bitterly.

"YOU ASKED HER TO LEAVE!" Ellie snaps.

"I said she was free to walk, and she chose to walk!" Joel counters.

Ellie turns back front and tugs at Joel's arm, "STOP DRIVING!"

Joel does not budge nor respond.

"JOEL!"

"She's a big girl," he quips, "all high and mighty with her attitude," he grumbles softly then raises his voice, "it'd do her good to walk back to base."

"You're an asshole!" Ellie says, crossing her arms.

Joel does not respond. His eyes flicker to the rear view mirror. He lets out a breath.

The moment they arrive and Joel parks, Ellie bursts out the door and begins to walk off.

"Hey!" Joel calls as he gets out of the car, "where do you think you're going?"

"To wait for her," she eyes him, "asshole."

"No," Joel marches to her and grabs her arm, "you're not going to walk to he-"

"I'm not going to walk to her!" Ellie snaps, pulling out of Joel's grip, "I'm just going to wait for her by the lamppost!"

Joel's attention darts to the broken, mossy lamppost, then to the barely visible figure, slowly inching forward from a distance. He turns back to Ellie then turns to the car, "fine. Help me put the things inside first."

"I'll do it la-"

"You'll do it now," Joel commands as he, himself, begins to unpack the supplies they managed to get.

Ellie grumbles and begrudgingly follows, "asshole."

By the time I arrive to our base, I smile at Ellie who dashes over to me and gives me a hug.

I can't help but laugh at her as I hug her back, "you're acting like I came back home from war."

"Joel's an asshole for leaving you," Ellie says against our embrace.

We pull away. I brush her baby hair back as she hooks her arm around my waist. I ask, "did you tell him that?"

"I also gave him the finger," Ellie says to me as she does the gesture.

"You shouldn't have done that," I drape my arm on her shoulders as we walk back, "he'll be all sulky about it."

"He deserved it," she retorts, "what if something did happen?"

I shake my head, "Ellie."

"No- I know... but what if-"

"Joel wouldn't have left me if he wasn't sure I'd be fine," I gesture to myself, "and I am. Call him a caring douchebag."

Ellie sighs, "he's so dramatic."

I let out a high pitched sound.

She snorts as she kicks a rock and then turns back to me, "nah, you're so right. You definitely are the dramatic one between the three of us."

"Hey," I raise a brow at her as I crush her into me, "you're the one that complains about doing the dishes."

"Well-"

"As if you weren't the one that eats the most."

"Hey, I'm a growing child!" she pouts, "and I, for one, think that I should only wash the dishes that he use."

I hum, "maybe you should walk then, because you can't drive."

"That's so not the same thing."

I shake my head and narrow my eyes, "it is, actually."

We make it inside the abandoned house we had been staying at and immediately, I look around for Joel.

"He's fixing the car," she begins to mime, "and doing the thing with the tube and the stick and-"

I raise a hand, "I got it."

"I personally think he's making an excuse so that he wouldn't have to talk to you right now," Ellie says as we head to the kitchen.

I smirk at her, "you reckon he'll make me sleep on the floor?"

Ellie laughs, "geez, I hope he doesn't. It's fucking freezing."

We begin to unpack some of the food we got.

"He's be a mega-asshole if he did," she makes a half-amused face.

I scrunch up my nose and nod.

"But if he does, I'll let you sleep with me, even though your a blanket hoarder."

I raise my hands up, "it's not like I can control that."

"You also have an iron grip, so I can't even pull it back on me," she tilts her head.

"Again," I open a can of beans, "I can't control that."

"You also move a lot when you sleep."

"Can't contro-"

"I change my mind," Ellie makes a face, "you should just get on your knees and beg..." she raises a finger, "or whatever it is you do when you're on your knees."

I release a breath.

She raises her hands and pulls her head back, "hey, two consenting adults."

"Okay," I quickly change the subject, "you know, I was thinking of fainting halfway through the walk, but then I figured I'd freeze to death before Joel came for me. Also he'd use it against me if I ever use the fact I used to jog a lot before as a reason to bring me on his 'solo' runs."

Ellie thinks for a moment, "that could work though, the fainting."

I snort, "what, should I faint just as he walks in the room?"

I dramatically throw my head back and place the back of my hand on my forehead, "he'd freak if I did."

Ellie and I giggle.

"If you faint, I'll put your body in the dumpster," Joel says as he walks in, pushing past me to something from the counter, then walks back.

Ellie and I purse our lips tightly as we watch him leave the room.

Once he's gone, Ellie and I begin to giggle again. She mutters, "asshole."

Later that night, after tucking Ellie in and kissing her good night, I went outside where Joel was still working on the car.

I shudder at the cold and wrap my arms around myself, "the jig is up, it's time to go to bed."

"I'm almost done," Joel mutters.

I roll my eyes, spotting the food I gave him, stagnant and cold in the place I put it hours ago, "you said that already."

Joel wipes his hand on the back of his pants then grunts. He circles from the front of the car to the driver's seat and starts the engine.

I breathe in deeply and huff, "you want some help?"

The car starts, then abruptly stops. Joel then closes the door and shoves something in his pocket, "I'm done." He walks to the open hood and bangs it close. He grabs his plate of food and begins eating as he walks past me.

I huff once more as I trail off after him.

"I made some tea," I mutter, "it's probably an piss cold now but-"

"Piss isn't cold," Joel retorts with a mouthfull.

I rub my eye.

We reach the kitchen, and by that time, Joel finished half of his plate. I give him a look as I watch him eat, "fucking hell, Joel, calm down. No one's going to take that from you."

"It tastes shit," he mumbles.

"Yeah," I cross my arms, "it was bearable when it was hot."

Joel shoves some more food in his mouth. I grunt, "and you didn't even wash your hands!" I chastise, walking over to him to push him to the sink.

Joel grunts as he moves to the sink against his will. He chews with full cheeks as he washes his hand in the miracle sink that had water.

He swallows before he mutters, "motor oil poisoning is the least of your problems, babe."

"Oh, yeah," I cock my head to the side as I hand him box of soap, "seems like it's at the top of your list, actually."

Joel finishes washing his hands before he averts his attention back to his food and mutters, "you're at the top of my list."

I watch as he stuffs his face again then walk up to him to pat his shoulder, "consider me flattered, big boy."

Before I could walk off, I am held back by my arm. I turn to Joel. His chewing slows. He releases his hold on me and leans on his palms, "stay."

I turn back to him and wrap my arms around myself.

Joel finishes the last of his food, thankfully, at a slightly slower pace.

I rub my arms as the cold nips at me.

"You want my jacket?"

I shake my head.

Joel adjusts the collar of his jacket, "you sure?"

"What is this, a romcom?"

Joel shrugs, "you tell me, you're the writer."

I lean my hip on the counter as I gesture at him, "this seems more like an apocalypse to me."

"Huh," he finishes the last of his food, "I wouldn't have guessed."

I purse my lips into a soft smile as Joel begins to wash his plate, "a dash of horror... maybe some farce."

The sound of water fills the beat of silence.

"Is Ellie asleep?"

I grunt, "I kissed her goodnight cause you were still brooding."

He doesn't respond. Joel finishes washing his plate. He puts it away and wipes his hands on a towel. He and I look at each other in silence.

Joel puts the towel down then mimics my stance. He leans back on the sink. I rub my arms. He crosses his.

I roll my shoulders back, "so."

"So," he repeats.

"Is this your way of saying you're still mad at me?"

"I'm mad at you?" Joel tilts his head.

"I don't know, are you?"

"Am I?"

"Joel."

"Would I want to stare at you if I were mad at you?"

I knit my brows, "is that what's happening?"

He looks at me.

"You're looking at me cos I'm hot?" I raise my brows and motion, "I haven't showered in days."

"Neither have I."

"Trust me, I can tell."

A moment passes. I cross my arms, "Joel-"

"Fine," he sighs, "I'm still annoyed at what you did."

"Okay. Which one?" I pucker my lips in thought, "the screaming or the old man joke."

"What do you think?" Joel deadpans, crossing his arms.

I walk up toward him and grab my chin in fake thought, "hmmmm, the second one."

I stop when I am directly in front of him and lean close to his face, "I don't actually think you're a grandpa."

He blinks.

I chuckle and reach out to his face. I rub his cheeks with my thumb as I kiss him. For a moment, I can feel him melt against me. I feel it in how he sighs and leans closer. When he doesn't reach out for me, I pull away and huff at his furrowed brows. I will the tension away as I stroke them.

He really wasn't about to let this go.

Joe stands up straight only to lean his forehead against mine, "scream like that again, I'll make you scream then gag you."

With that, he pulls away and walks off. I just stand there.

"Come on," he calls, "I'm stuck with you tonight since Ellie doesn't want you sleeping next to her."

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fic #the last of us fluff #joel miller smut #the last of us x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff

[cowgurrrl]

Sleeping on the Blacktop

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: guys we did it i wrote smut i actually like (ps this was edited but also not reread because I’ve been trying to write it for five hours so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t)

Summary: The Land of No Return [4.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, platonic expressions of love, the mortifying ordeal of being known, sexting, we finally get to know about reader's secret tattoos, smut, Joel the Menace makes his long awaited return with that dirty fucking mouth, mutual masturbation, phone sex (??(sure)), protected sex (no Miller babies for them) p in v stuff, June being indulgent with describing Joel Miller, anxiety, I think that's it??

Music floods the kitchen as you and Andie work on making the best "last supper but with women" possible. The lamps glow orange on the walls and create funny shadows when you dance together, pulling each other in and out to old jazzy tunes. You laugh when she throws a string of spaghetti at your fridge to test if it's ready a little too hard, and it splatters water everywhere. You, honestly, might be a little delirious. You're both in your pajamas, and you've been watching movies all day. You exchange what you remember from New Year's Eve and cringe at what the other fills in. You drink cheap wine from plastic cups and snack on chips as the food cooks. 

It feels like high school again, with all the girlish giggling and inside jokes you trade back and forth, except this time, instead of her going back to her house ten minutes up the road, she's going back to her apartment half the world away. No matter how long you get with her, it's never enough. Thousands of miles and different schedules will do that. Keeping long-distance friendships as an adult is just as hard, if not harder, than making new ones. 

When dinner is ready, you fix your plates and sit next to each other at your messy dining room table— the IKEA one she helped you build when Henry walked out with the first one— and eat. Paint stains the wood of the table, and half-finished works are scattered around the dining room, but you barely notice them as you talk. She tells you about the things waiting for her in Vienna: work, her cat, Oslo, and piano lessons. You don't have to pretend to be envious because you are. You have to go back to school and the Real World once you drop her off at the airport in the morning. You wish you could go with her. 

"Alright, c'mon. Spill it. What's going on with you and Joel?" She asks in between bites of garlic bread. You laugh and shake your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Bullshit. Tommy told me he saw you guys."

"Speaking of Tommy," you pivot. "What's going on there? You two seemed pretty chummy." You raise your eyebrows at her, and a big smile takes over her face. She takes another bite of food to buy herself some time, but there's no way you're letting her off the hook, especially after all her teasing about Joel.

"Nothing. We were just… talking." She finally says, and you give her a look. 

"Talking?"

"Yes. People talk. You should try it sometime."

"Was it talking like we are now or talking like Joel and I talked?" You hum, and she kicks her feet as she leans forward.

"So you and Joel did talk." 

"Well, we probably would've if somebody didn't come barging in."

"Goddammit, I told him to wait," she groans. "Sorry, girl."

"Yeah, me too," you say, and she laughs. You bump her knee and give her a look. "Alright, your turn. What's going on with Tommy?" 

"Nothing that could actually turn into anything." 

"Aw, c'mon. Don't count yourself out so early."

"It's not counting myself out. It's being realistic. I live in Vienna. He lives here. I'm not ready to come back to the States, and he seems content, so there's nothing that can happen," she shrugs. "It was a fling. A very nice fling, but a fling nevertheless." She seems a little too sad for it to have been just a fling. They exchanged numbers, and you've caught her texting him several times. She said she did kiss him on New Year's Eve (before she threw up), but they didn't go any further besides flirting the next morning. You watched them test each other at breakfast, and he seemed just as interested in her as she was in him. They'd be cute together. She sighs and pushes her pasta around in her bowl like a dejected character from a period piece.

"Tommy is very handsome." You comment, and she grabs your arm, animating all of a sudden. 

"Dude, I've been dying to talk about it. What the fuck are they putting in the water here? It's insane." 

"It's annoying, right?" 

"So annoying." She agrees. You laugh about it together and, finally, give her the details she's been waiting so patiently for. When you finish your story, her hands are over her mouth, and her eyes are wide. "Oh, my God. You have to get him back."

"I know, I know! He's driving me up a fucking wall." You say, taking a bite of food. It will get cold if you don't stop talking, but you also don't care. 

"You could surprise him with some lingerie or something." She suggests, and you groan. 

"God, I don't even remember the last time I bought lingerie."

"All the more reason to buy some." 

"I don't know. I feel like I could just show up naked, and he'd be happy with that."

"He sounds like a keeper then."

"Yeah, I don't know," you shrug. "I like him a lot. I just… don't know if it's sustainable."

"Why?" She asks. You almost want to gesture around your messy apartment and half-put together life as if it will answer her question.

"I mean, he's a good guy, and we're having fun, but for how long? His kid's gonna be in at least one of my classes until she graduates. Not to mention, he has another daughter who is in medical school. We both work full-time. And then there's the whole having to keep it a secret thing. It could get really old really fast." You sigh. 

"What if it doesn't?"

"What?"

"What if it doesn't get old? What if it ends up working out?" She asks. You take a deep breath. "You didn't even think about that possibility. Did you?"

"I just don't wanna get hurt."

"That's a very real possibility. Things could go wrong. He could break your heart. You could lose your job. Society as we know it could come crashing down, and you know what? The sun's still gonna come up the next day. The birds will still sing, and I will still be here," she says, putting her hand over yours. You purse your lips as you process her words. "You deserve nice things, kid. Don't count yourself out so early." She echoes your earlier sentiment, and you smile.

She's right. Of course, she's right. You don't let yourself think good things could happen because you're so focused on all the bad. She's known you for so long she can read your thoughts and know your habits before you can. What a horrifying and beautiful thing it is to be known inside and out like that. 

"Maybe you should've been a writer instead of a musician," you say, and she laughs. You squeeze her hand and sigh as you look at her. "I'm really gonna miss you."

"I'm really gonna miss you, too."

"I wish you could stay."

"I know," she says. "But you need an excuse to come to Vienna, and I need an excuse to come to Austin, and if I stay, we lose that."

"I guess that's true."

"Besides, if I stop making trans-Atlantic calls, I think my phone company would be concerned." She points out, making you laugh. You know she's telling you what she's told herself this whole time. She loves Vienna, but you know she gets homesick. You know she's trying really hard to convince herself to get back on that plane. You don't push her about staying again. You just indulge in her presence. 

"I love you." You say softly, and she smiles.

"I love you, too." She says. 

It means so much more than just "I love you." It means, "I love you, and I want us both to eat well." It means, "I love you, and I can't imagine doing this life without you." It means, "I love you, and I know you have to go." Never any buts. Always ands, because love like this knows no bounds. Not borders, not time zones, not lifestyles. 

You finish the dinner you made and clean the kitchen side by side before climbing into bed and staying up as late as possible to try and get Andie back on Vienna time. In the morning, you drag yourselves out of bed and sing in the car on the way to get coffee, and when the time comes for you to get her suitcase out of your backseat and watch her disappear behind glass doors, you hug her tight and tell her you love her again. She repeats the sentiment with another squeeze and deep breath that tells you how close to tears she is. Then, she turns around and doesn't look back to prove she's strong enough to leave. She doesn't need to prove anything to you. You always knew she was strong enough to do this.

The car ride back is emotional and lonely and tinged with the bass line of Ribs by Lorde, but your phone buzzes as you pull back into your apartment complex with tears staining your cheeks. 

Thanks for letting us meet Andie. She's a really sweet person. I'm sorry she has to leave today.

You don't remember telling him what day she was leaving, but she might've told Tommy, and Tommy told Joel. You smile and text him back. 

Thanks for taking care of us. She only had good things to say about you and Tommy. We'll have to all hang out again the next time she's home. 

And then.

Thanks for checking on me. I really appreciate it. 

Of course. I'm always a wreck when I have to drop Sarah off at the airport. I'm around if you wanna talk. Ellie's hanging out with some friends, and Tommy's on-site today.

You stare at the messages and debate your options. He basically just told you he's home alone and has nothing to do for the rest of the day. And yes, he is probably being sweet and really offering to talk if you're feeling lonely, but you also know how talking usually goes for you two. You smirk as you type out a message.

Just talk?

It seems like he can't type fast enough.

What else would you wanna do?

I think you made some promises you need to follow through on, Miller.

I guess I did. 

Come over and I can do just that.

Actually, I have some work to get done :( maybe next time?

You lock your phone and bound up to your apartment, conscious of the sudden lengthening of time between messages. It's fun to imagine him trying to come up with a response that respects your boundaries but also lets you know how needy he is. He may have started this little game, but you're gonna be the one to perfect it. Thus begins the days upon days of not sexting, but not not sexting. 

At first, it's just messages about how you miss him and wish he was around. He tries to find an excuse to come over, but you effectively cockblock him at every turn. Your response times get a little slower the more worked up he gets, so he has to figure it out on his own. You never would've thought Joel Miller, a man with gray in his beard and wrinkles lining his face, could be such a fast texter, but you figure there's nothing more desperate than a horny man. 

Messages quickly escalate to pictures. They start off innocent enough: a picture of the painting you're working on, but your bare legs give away the fact that you're not wearing pants, a picture of him stepping out of a hot shower, his bare chest slightly red and glistening from the water, a picture of you wearing the burnt orange shirt he sent you home in New Year's Day with no bra on underneath. Then, you get a little bolder. After a quick trip to the mall, you pose in front of the mirror in a short delicate white night down with pretty lace details on the top, the hem barely hitting the tops of your thighs and showing off the large tattoos hiding there. You look hot, and imagining Joel's reaction to you makes you flush and rub your thighs together to get some relief.

It's true that Joel would've been happy if you showed up to his house wearing (or not wearing) anything, but when the photo pings to his phone, he's never been more grateful for Victoria's Secret in his life. His breath hitches in his throat, and he quickly tucks his phone into his chest like someone is gonna come up behind him and see what he's looking at. He's barely glanced at the photo and he's already straining in his jeans. 

Goddamn, he texts back. You're so fucking pretty, baby.

You like it?

It's a dumb question, but you really don't care.

It's perfect.

What do you like about it?

Besides the fact that you're the one wearing it? I like that it makes you look like more of an angel than you already are, and I like that I can finally see those tattoos you've been hiding from me. 

Bingo, you think to yourself. He was able to catch glimpses of the large pieces hiding on your back and shoulders at the art gallery, and when he picked up on New Year's Eve, you caught him staring at them each time. You thought he was following the inky lines up your body, but you couldn't be sure. Now, he's giving himself away, and you're practically buzzing with excitement.

You turn around in the mirror and arch your back, perfectly showing off your ass and the intricate tattoo lining your spine, and snap a picture. It's one of the largest ones you have, and it's also the easiest to hide. Besides, you definitely didn't get it for your own enjoyment. You live for moments like this. You send him the picture and smile as you type.

Like this one?

Your phone rings not even two minutes after he reads the message. You giggle when he groans into the receiver instead of greeting you.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, baby." He says, his voice so deep you can practically feel it rumble against your ear.

"I told you I'd get you back." You say it like it's obvious, but he just hums. There's shuffling on his end, and all you can do is wait for him to say something else.

"What else have you been hidin' underneath all those little dresses, hm?" He asks. "Tattoos. The most fuckin' perfect tits I've ever seen. Anythin' else I should know bout? 'S your pussy as pretty as the rest of ya?" You didn't mean for him to hear you gasp, but he seemed pleased that he could pull such a sound from you without even being in the same room. Just like that, any doubt or reservation you had left flies out the window. You finally cave and slip your hand down your panties to glide your fingers through your folds. "Am I makin' you wet, sweetheart?"

"Fuck," you mumble. It's absurd how turned on you are by this whole thing. Your fingers slowly circle your clit, and your head gets so fuzzy you almost forget to respond to him. "Yes, Joel." 

"Are you playin' with yourself?" He asks, and you nod even though he can't see you. "Poor thing. I wish I could be there to help ya. I'd have you spread open for me so I can touch you however I want. Figure out what you like and what makes you cry for me." You put him on speaker and throw your phone down so you can focus on gliding through your wetness, your middle finger pushing into you slowly.

"What... what would you do?" You ask, breathless. 

"I'd start by usin' my fingers just to feel you out, and I bet you'd feel so fuckin' good. I'd play with your clit until you're beggin' me to put a finger inside you, and I'd slip two in slowly while kissin' your inner thighs and watchin' you squeeze my fingers," you moan as you listen to his raspy voice and fuck yourself to his words. You try to imagine what his fingers would feel like inside of you. How different compared to yours, how much better they'd feel. Goddammit. "Then, I'd use my mouth on you while my fingers move in and out. I'd lick you all over and feel you soakin' me when I suck on your clit." He says, and you return to rubbing said bundle of nerves, faster this time, as you become acutely aware of his labored breathing over the phone. 

Is he touching himself? The idea of him holding the phone with one hand and fisting his cock with the other sends a wave of heat down your spine, and you keen into your own hand. A shaky breath and muttered curse leave his lips, and then you know for sure what he's doing. Your head spins, and you'd be embarrassed by how close you are just from his voice if you weren't entirely focused on the pleasure clouding your brain. 

"Fuck, Joel-"

"I know, baby, I know," he coos sympathetically. Another lewd moan leaves you as you get closer and closer to the edge, stars threatening the corners of your vision. "Are you gonna come for me like this?" He asks, and you hum in the affirmative, not trusting yourself to form words. "Come on. Let me hear you. I wanna hear what you sound like when you fall apart." His voice is coming faster and breathier, a light growl at the end of his words. How are you to deny him that? 

The speed of your fingers on your clit increases, but it's his own broken whimpers that finally do it. Your back arches as the waves wash over you, and noises you didn't even know you could make escape your lips. You can vaguely hear a broken sigh accentuated by a particularly hot whine from Joel's end. Henry was never as vocal or talkative as Joel is. None of your past partners have been. In the aftershocks of your orgasm, you have a quick passing thought that he might ruin dating for you. You might never want to see anyone else who doesn't treat you like this. You might be fucked.

"Joel," you say when you have control over your thoughts again. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck over here now."

Joel's house is on the other side of Austin. With traffic, getting to your apartment can take anywhere from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on how fast you're willing to go and how many red lights you can pass under. Joel gets there in fifteen. You're still in the flouncy dress you bought specifically to torture him, but by the time you open the door for him, you're much less interested in making his life any more miserable than you already have over the past week. 

He doesn't hesitate to charge into your apartment, grab your face, and kiss you like his life depends on it. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open to him, clinging to him as his hands move from your face to the backs of your thighs to pick you up. You squeal in surprise and lock your legs around his waist to bring him closer and keep yourself from falling. Even though he obviously came over the phone at the same time you did, he's hard again and pressing against your bare pussy. He hisses when you grind against him, and his jaw clenches as he pulls away like he's in pain.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asks, wide eyes searching the hallway behind you.

"First door on the left." You say as you duck your head to kiss his neck. He sighs and indulges in the feeling of your tongue against his skin before he finally finds his feet and stumbles into your bedroom. You're halfway through marking him before he lays you down and immediately rucks his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart and making you whine. 

"You okay?" He asks, stopping all movement to scan over your face for any signs of discomfort. You nod and reach for the buttons of his jeans.

"Yes. Just need you." You say. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Joel, I just came from the sound of your voice. Yes, I'm fucking sure." You say, a little frenzied as you pull at the hem of his shirt. He laughs as he pulls it over his head and quickly unzips his jeans. 

"Feisty." 

"Can you blame me?" You ask, and he shakes his head. He tugs his jeans and his briefs down at the same time and unveils all of him to you in one go. He's beautiful. You knew he would be, but seeing the graying chest hairs and the pretty happy trail leading down to his hard cock in between his strong, tan thighs is an entirely different thing. You reach for him, desperate to feel the weight of him in your hands, but he stops you by slipping the tiny straps of your night gown down your arms. 

He carefully pulls the fabric down your body until it's pooled next to his clothes on the floor. His eyes fall to the black lines wrapping around your shoulders, and he draws his eyes to your collarbones and sternum, his breathing stuttering at the sight of you laid out under him. 

"So much prettier than I imagined." He murmurs as he ducks his head to kiss the valley between your breasts. You smile and run your hands through his curls as he mouths at your chest, leaving red marks in his wake and making you press him closer.

"How many times have you thought about this?" You ask. Has he always wanted you in the way you've wanted him? You're almost positive he has. There's no other way to explain the reverence with which he's looking at you. He's so wrapped up in you it's almost suffocating. Every time you glance at his face, he's staring at you with soft eyes and blown pupils. 

"Lost count." There it is. The confirmation. You grab at his ribs to bring him closer, pulling him over you to kiss him slow and deep. Despite the heat of him against you and the ache between your thighs, you both take the time to savor it. That is until his overthinking takes over. "I didn't bring a condom. Fuck, I was in a rush. I didn't think." He says quickly, like he's waiting for you to back out or push him away. You bring your thumb up to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and smooth it away, kissing his jaw.

"You think I would get you all worked up to not be prepared? C'mon, baby," you turn the nickname around on him, and he leans into your hand like a cat. "Top drawer." You say. He scrambles to your bedside table and grabs the first one he can find as you move onto all fours while he's distracted. You listen for the foil ripping and the subtle sound of the latex fitting over him. You can't stop the smirk from forming when he looks up and sees the sight in front of him.

"Fuckin' Hell," he mutters. Your back is arched perfectly, your hair gathered over your shoulder, and the tattoo you got done so many years ago is on display for him. "You are so goddamn perfect." He says as he presses his chest into your back and kisses your shoulder. He plants a few more kisses across your neck and back, making you wait longer than you already have, and just when you think you're going crazy, he slowly pushes into you and punches all the air from your lungs. 

He's big. Bigger than anyone you've been with before, and he seems to know that. He rolls his hips, and you moan, gripping at the sheets under you for stability as you adjust. His breathing is ragged behind you, and he groans when you involuntarily clench around him. "You okay?" He asks, his voice straining. His patience and self-control should be fucking studied. 

"Yeah, I'm okay." You assure him, and he nods. He starts to move slowly at first, but when you start whining and shaking under him, he snaps. You're both impatient. Months of following the rules and caring about what other people could think or say tumble out of your heads as he sets a rough pace. You've been dreaming about this and pushing it away since he walked into your classroom that day, and now that it's happening, you can't hide how desperate you are for him. You cry his name as he fucks into you deeply, no part of your bodies not touching, but it's still not close enough.

"You're so fuckin' good for me, baby. Jesus fuck," he moans into your ear, his uneven breaths echoing into your skull. "You feel so good." 

He sits back and brings you with him, changing the angle and forcing him deeper inside of you as his hand snakes around your waist and dips to play with your clit. You curse loudly and dig your nails into his forearm as bright pleasure courses through your veins. "'M gonna come if you keep doing that," you warn, your voice high and strained as he adds a little more pressure. 

"C'mon, honey, come on my cock for me. Please, I want it." It could be the slight whine in his voice or the fact that he's begging you for it, or the fact that the tight circles he's rubbing into your clit are making you see stars, but you come hard. You rely on him to hold you upright as he fucks you through your high, the slick between your thighs growing as his own orgasm washes over him, and he moans directly in your ear, an unexpected but not unpleasant gift. You think you could get off again just to the sounds he makes when he's coming. 

You stay like that for a second, wrapped up in each other and breathing hard with him still inside you, before he finally finds the courage to slip out of you with only a tiny pained moan. He carefully guides you onto your back, your bones jelly, and kisses your cheek before he pads off to the bathroom to throw away the used condom. 

It's quiet again in the apartment, but it's not lonely anymore. He makes himself at home in your space, asking if he can get water and snacks from your kitchen and walking around naked as the day he was born. "I wanna make sure you've got enough energy for round two." He says, making you laugh.

"Are you finally gonna make good on your promise to take your time with me?" 

"Fuck yeah." He says, coming back to kiss your lips one more time before walking to the kitchen. It's like if he goes a few minutes without tasting you, he can't function, or at least, that's what he makes it seem like. You're more than receptive to the attention and can only watch as he walks around. Your trust in your legs is not strong enough to get up just yet. 

In the domestic silence, it would be easy for your mind to run rampant with rogue thoughts and anxieties, but when Joel returns to the bedroom with snacks, bottles of water, and those stupidly sweet eyes, they get pushed to the back burner. He gets under the covers and pulls you into him, his warm body grounding you to this moment and not letting your thoughts stray. He presses kisses to your hair and your face every so often as you talk about everything and nothing. 

Somehow, it feels natural, like you've been doing this the whole time or like everything was leading up to this. Maybe it was. Still, you'll need to talk about this. You know you will.

Just... not yet.

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