#the killers fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grippingbeskar · 1 year

Text

small favours

— joel miller x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts

— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.

You hadn’t asked for much.

It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?

Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.

It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.

It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.

All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.

There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.

Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.

“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.

“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”

Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.

“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”

“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.

“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.

You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.

You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.

“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”

The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.

When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.

“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“

“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.

In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.

“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.

“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”

“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”

“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.

“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.

“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.

“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”

“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”

“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.

“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.

“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”

“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.

“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”

“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh

“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.

“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“

“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”

“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”

“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.

“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”

“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”

“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.

He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.

Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.

“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”

“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”

“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.

“You want me to stitch your face together?”

“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.

“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.

“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.

“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.

“Sorry. Shit—“

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”

Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.

The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.

“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.

“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.

“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.

It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.

You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.

You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.

“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”

Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.

At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.

“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.

“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”

“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”

“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.

For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.

He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.

“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”

“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.

“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.

“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”

“But I want—“

“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”

“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”

“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.

He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.

Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.

He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.

“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.

“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.

It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.

There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.

“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“

He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.

You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”

“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”

“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.

He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.

“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”

He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.

He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.

“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.

“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.

It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.

You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“So fucking tight around me.”

“God, you feel good.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“

“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.

The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.

He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.

“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.

“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”

You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel killer x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader

12K notes · View notes

bby-deerling · 4 months

Note

Masturbation Headcanons for Law, Zoro, Kid, Sanji and Killer? 🔥🔥🔥

i like the way you think anon :^)

masturbation headcanons (nsfw)

ft. zoro, sanji, kid, killer, law || masterlist

18+, mdni, nsfw, cw: masturbation, jerking off in the shower, mentions of rough sex, zoro being scrungly, mutual masturbation, law is a bastard man, getting caught in the act, sanji being loud, sanji being sanji

zoro

he doesn't jerk off very often; he's fairly self-disciplined, and only takes care of his base urges when he really needs to. it's usually quick, efficient, and in the shower. definitely cums down the drain and doesn't care that other people use the shower... the water cleans the floor off anyways... right?

one day, he accidentally discovered that he likes his balls played with, and usually fondles them with his free hand while he strokes himself. it feels good and gets him off quicker, killing two birds with one stone. he is a bit embarrassed about it and will never tell you how much he likes this, so you're going to have to figure that one out on your own. ;)

if you're in a relationship with him, he'd rather go to you than do it alone. sex isn't something he paid much mind before getting into a relationship with you; all of a sudden, what once was a simple chore to get rid of the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach becomes a lot more than that. after being with you, it takes a lot to get him to the point where he feels the need to jerk off (like being apart for a while).

sanji

this man was cursed with a ridiculous libido that he doesn't know what to do with. he gets off all the time, whenever he feels like he can get away with it. the mere sight of a beautiful woman sends his heart pounding, and he needs to take care of it or he slowly drives himself insane.

sanji is the ultimate whiner, and is far louder than he really should be; no one else says anything to him out of the sheer awkwardness that the situation would create, but everyone on the sunny has been subjected to hearing his pathetic whimpers at least once.

he tries so hard to not get off by himself once he enters into a relationship with you, but he's so filled with constant need that he can't help it sometimes. guilt plagues his chest if you end up catching him in the act, but he perks right back up if you offer to help him finish up.

kid

takes care of himself frequently. he's a large man with large needs, and that applies to his sexual appetite as well. he'd rather hook up with someone for the heightened thrill, but his own hand does well enough in a pinch.

losing his left arm made it difficult for a while; even if it wasn't his dominant arm, he still was used to being able to grip at his own thigh, or the bed sheets beside him as he fucks into his hand. occasionally, phantom limb pain rushes over him and makes him involuntarily edge himself (which makes him furious).

he's rough in bed and often puts you out of commission for a few days. he doesn't mind jerking off in the mean time, as long as you're in bed getting off beside him. it keeps his mind occupied and when he comes, it feels ten times more intense when he's watching you put on a show for him.

killer

fairly well-adjusted in the membrane, jerks off a normal amount. he can swallow his urges down when appropriate, but also doesn't push them down to the point of getting pent up. he prefers to jack off in his room for a bit of privacy (that he rarely gets since kid is usually attached at the hip to him).

when he knows he's needed back at his post quickly, he's silent and efficient about it, but when he has some extra time to himself, he can get a bit loud. he cums a lot, spurting thick, white ropes along his torso, so cleaning up is usually more of a hassle than it really needs to be.

he prefers having sex with you to getting off alone, but also won't pester you if you're clearly not in the mood, and will quietly slip away and take care of things himself. he's stealthy and difficult to catch, but on the off chance you find him, he'll be extremely embarrassed, and it will take a bit of convincing if you want to take over and finish him off.

law

oh my god, this man is the biggest stress-jerker. dealing with difficult emotions? he's getting off. frustrated that one of his plans didn't work out? door is locked and his hand is already down his pants. something mildly vexes him? he's fisting his cock.

he's fairly brutal, going at it with an iron grip. every ounce of the negative emotions he is dealing with are imbued in each stroke in a desperate attempt to release them into the aether.

being in a relationship with you curbs his habits a slight bit, but the urge to temporarily relieve his stress with the dopamine rush of an orgasm is too addictive to let go. when you catch him in the act, he just grumbles and uses shambles to bring you closer, and tells you to quit watching and take care of it yourself.

1K notes · View notes

pixeechix21 · 7 months

Text

Take it, Mein Engel

Königxreader praise kink

Summary: You’re on a very cold mission; it’s cold, and well, he can warm you up… you try your best not to wake up the rest of the team, but it's hopeless.

He’s a lethal soldier, a monster of a man, who is weak at the sight of you using him so that you come.

TW: smuuuutttttt, PRAISE KINK to the MAX, sex, size kink (Idek @ this point?), pinv, oral,

It’s freezing outside and slowly it’s seeping into your tent. There is a light snoring and mumbling coming from the team in their own tents. You feel restless as you gradually lose feeling in your fingers and ears, shifting positions trying to find any heat. Finally when you’d had enough you wrap yourself up and exit your tent heading straight to his. He’s normally out like a light so you figured you could just temporarily ‘borrow’- let's be honest steal- his mini electric heater.

Upon entering your eyes squint into the darkness seeing his large body rising and falling steadily. In the corner you hit the jackpot, the radiator glowing a warming red. Trying not to wake him you creep in further, pausing instantly as you hear him mumble something in his sleep. You look at him, his features are soft, yet more masculine than ever, as he sleeps. A sudden urge to curl up to his large body, and touch his lips, comes over you. As you go to grab the heater you trip over a large boot exclaiming, quietly, as you fall. Into his bed. I know I wished for it but seriously, you think frantically trying to scramble out of his bed. Before you could, a large muscular arm wraps around you hugging you in closer, under the covers. He still has his eyes closed as he says, “can I help you Engle?” his accent heavy in his drowsiness.

“Let me go, I was just coming to borrow your heater,” you whisper loudly.

“Mmm. stay here it’s warmer,” he snuggles into your neck, breathing you in lovingly. You try to get out but every time to wriggle about he tightens his hold, as if he’d never want to let you go.

“König,” you say flatly, guiltily enjoying as you sink into him and you feel his hard worked body pressed into you.

“Ja mein liebling,” he gives your neck a small kiss, as he scoots you both onto the center of the small bed. You moan involuntarily as you feel his soft lips move against your neck. You wriggle once more trying your luck. I need to get out of this you think stupidly knowing full well this is exactly where you wanted to be. “Stay still, you feel so good,” his voice is husky as his hand lowers to your hips and holds you. He has no clue how he makes you feel when he talks to you in that low tone of his. Bodies together and the dark blanketing you both. He slowly grinds into your ass so that you feel his hard on, turning you on more you reciprocate and arch your ass back to meet him. You exhale as you feel yourself want to straddle that man's hips and feel his large dick in its fullest. “Shieze, y/n they’re next door,” he gets out gruffly now fully awake placing wet kisses and lightly biting your neck.

“We’ll be quiet,” you say, reasoning with him.

“Trust me Engle I want to make you scream my name, not be quiet,” he forwarns. It doesn’t matter, your body wants, you want him, and he needs you. He rolls on top of you. His huge body was laying on you, and you could feel his erection imprint on your stomach. Looking up to him with doe eyes you bite your bottom lip seeing his muscles through his tight shirt. He takes your throat in one hand, face coming close, so close that as he speaks his lips brush over yours. “Promise you’ll be quiet as I pound into that pretty pussy of yours?” He says his crystalline blue eyes looking deeply into mine. “Promise,” he tightens his grip and you start to see black around the corners of your vision.

“I promise,” you say begging for friction as your clit throbs and heat grows in your core. He squeezes once, “I promise I’ll be quiet as you pound into my pretty pussy,” you repeat, needily.

“Good,” he says before he obliterates your lips with a deep carnal need. His tongue dominates yours and your cold finger goes under his shirt and pushes him to crush you under his weight. He inhales, surprised at the cold. His hand goes to your hard peaked nipple, twisting it between his fingers making you arch, tossing your head into the pillow. Hurriedly he takes off your shirt tossing it into the dark, coming down on you taking your breast into his mouth sucking and biting. You moan quietly as he plays with you at his leisure. He looks up at you, his lips swollen from the kissing and his eyes sharp searching your face. Your small hand cradles the side of his cheek and he kisses it sweetly. He’s had fantasies in the long nights, just meters apart, about him finally being able to pleasure and cherish your body. Countless nights he’s imagined himself with you as he comes in his hand, wishing it was you pussy. He kisses you down to the waistline of your pants, a hand pulling it down you, a rush of cold hits your sensitive clit. König’s thumbs make small circles in the inside of your thighs. Taking your feet he drags you to the edge of the bend getting on his knees to get closer. At first he licks your folds then almost as if one taste wasn’t enough he goes all in. His head clenched by your thighs, he holds a leg for support as he tongue fucks you, then moving his toung to your clit he bites it gently forcing a small squeal. At the sound he stops his movements entirely. “What did I tell you?” He breathes out, his hair disheveled and out of place.

“I’ll be quiet, please I promise König,” you plead, twisting your fingers through his soft hair and pushing him back down. Pleased he digs back in lapping at your wetness nearing your climax. His finger fucks you as his tongue flicks, and sucks your overly sensitive clit, “come for me Engle. Come on my face,” you take a pillow and cover your face as you moan loudly as you cum on him. “That’s it,” he continues as he licks all of you. Thighs firmly on either side of his head he opens them so that he can look down at you. “Such a good girl, Mein Liebling,” he watches as his two fingers circle your enlarged clit, causing you to squirm. He chuckles laying on the bed leaning against the tent wall, taking you into his lap. Your naked body straddles his lap and without knowing- as you wrap your arms around his neck and his arms shift your ass- you start to grind on him. Yearning for friction you lay all your body on his hard cock. You feel him straining against the fabric, he groans, he slides up and down your wet sopping cunt, a watch patch marking his pants. “Fuck, König,” you breathe out. You place a hand on his broad chest and the other one behind you so that you hit your spot. You grind on him faster and faster as he leans back and watches hungrily at you fucking his lap. “Oh my god-” you start out as you take yourself to another finish. His hands start to guide you, and you can feel him twitch under you. As you shake rising he lowers his pants taking his cock into his hands. You salivate at the size of him, large and the tip bulging needing release. You take him in your hand, wrapping it around König’s as you sit on it.

“y/n you’re so tight, schiβe,” he rests his heavy head on your shoulder. It feels euphoric how he stretches you and fills you to the hilt, how his chest goes up and down with restraint as you squeeze around him as you go up and down. Breaths one and the same as he gazes into your eyes, watching you strain with effort. “That’s it. Take it I’m yours,” he kisses you in between each word, as you quicken your pace. The impact of your body hitting and rubbing against him as you ride him hits you deliciously. He hand cradles your neck as you lean back, the sounds he makes pressing you closer to finishing you fingers go in between your bodies to further you. Before long he switches, back on top of you taking both hands up above your head. You look angrily at him, because he interrupted you, but not for long as he gains control.

He wants to make you scream his name so loud that even the enemy forces can hear you. He wants to obliterate you so much that he renders you unable to walk. And to his wishes, he thrusts viciously in and out of you. You cry at the pressure building within you, and the sheer pain that his force causes you. “Shh, shh Engle.” He grunts with each thrust next to your ear. The air prickles your skin to form goosebumps. “Take it for me, Mein Gott. Just like that,” you bite the crevasse of his neck to stop you from breaking your promise.“Tssk,” he gasps. Inside you, you feel him hardening even more. He’s lost all control as you wrap your legs around his waist. A calloused hand goes over your mouth, as he looks down at the connection between you two.

“Come with me,” he says, working harder. The wet sounds of him fucking your pussy, your helpless moaning, mixed with the light creak of the small bed, sounds like his new favorite melody. “Mein gott y/n, just like that,” he rasps out as you cum around his cock and he cums in you. He pumps a few more times strenuously before he collapses on the side of you. He pulls you across on top of him as he snuggles into you. You're a wreck and melt into his large body that engulfs you in a warm bear hug. He hums faintly as you fall asleep, the cold long forgotten.

is it jus me or do these sometimes feel like you're reading straight porn but like its not cuz your reading it?? jus me???🙈🥰

plz leave any ideas, or comments on wt ever 🥳-xox piciechix

#smut #fem!reader #cod x reader #cod konig #cod smut #cod mw2 #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #killer #praise #praise k!nk #könig cod #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #y/n #konig fanfiction #fanfic

2K notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 6 months

Text

Part 2 of charmed serial killer Simon. (Part 1 is here.)

This part is heavily inspired by this particular Badjhur audio “Surviving the Slasher” from, like, a long time ago. Where he’s a killer. Easier to find than expected, thank you masterlist. It permanently has a room in my pea brain, no rent, utilities included.

You’re out with your little friends again. Simon scoffs to even call them that. You give them so much more than they even try to give you - support, encouragement, time, energy.

One of them has a shitty deadbeat boyfriend that’s throwing a flat party, so they’ve dragged you along per usual. You’re still swearing off alcohol after the last time you went out - when you got a ride home with him. So you’re totally sober when the rest of the idiots suggest “investigating” the abandoned hospital on the other end of the block.

You go with them as the only fully-sober one, but spend the whole, stumbling trip trying to convince them to go somewhere, anywhere, else.

Apparently the boyfriend fancies himself something of an urban explorer because he knows just how to get in, bragging that he’s going to start some stupid internet show looking for ghosts there. You end up getting knocked into a half dozen times just trying to keep your woozy friends from getting tetanus.

It doesn’t take long at all for someone to suggest hide and seek. You try adamantly to put your cute little foot down - reminding them that it’s dirty and structurally unstable and there could be people just trying to camp out in peace in here. You’re adamantly ignored and your friends scatter.

And Simon starts to hunt.

Oh, he wishes he could have seen your face when the screams first started. If you recognized the shriek of Addy, the one who yanked you away from a proper apology when you first bumped into him at the bar. Wonders if you felt anything when Simon stabbed her boyfriend in the stomach and sent him stumbling away to incite more terror.

Of course you did. His pretty little chatterbox, coming to the rescue as soon as you heard their cries.

You get yourself lost trying to find someone, anyone. He picks off your group one. By. One. He finds you trying to triage a nasty slice to Heather’s thigh. She was talking shit about you just two days ago to Addy.

And oh, how brave you are, trying to stick with her to the very end. All it takes is one well-placed throw and you’re scrambling back as Heather burbles blood.

He takes a single, loud step towards you - and you bolt. Such a smart thing, you don’t even glance back to see if he’s following. He’s not; there’s still trash to take care of.

You find one more friend - one he doesn’t mind so much, mostly because you just met tonight. She’s crying, making a fuss and you’re trying to soothe her while still focused on escape, letting her cling to your arm.

Simon starts herding you both towards an easy exit. A few well placed foot falls here, a jaunty whistle there. He loves watching your big eyes dart toward the noises, how you get low like a bunny hiding in brush. Always put yourself between your new friend and wherever you think he could come from.

Your friends’ blood is beginning to dry when he decides it’s time to wrap things up.

He appears in a doorway, and you shove at your fellow survivor, make her squeeze through the rusty door first. You’re just starting to follow when he snags you around the middle. You yelp, feet kicking at air, tugging at his soaked hoodie sleeve.

He shoves your back against a wall and presses close, the flat of his knife against your pretty cheek.

“What did we learn tonight, hm?” he mocks.

You’re flinching away, but know better than to struggle or scream. So clever.

“W-why are you doing this?” you ask.

How sweet, that you can’t understand the motivations of monsters like him. He indulges you.

“To teach you a lesson,” he answers. “Get better friends.”

You look furious, even as tears well in your eyes. He coos over them, tugs the bottom of his mask up enough to lick them as they fall down your cheek.

“S-Stop, that’s - that’s so gross,” you hiccup, pancaking yourself to the wall.

He snorts in amusement and tugs his mask down again.

“Now, I know you’re a good girl with good manners, so let’s see them.”

You blink at him, eyes soooo big. Don’t understand what he means.

He tuts. “Say: thank you, ghost, for teaching me a valuable lesson.”

You press your lips together in a tight, pouty line. He wants to bite them. Instead, taps the point of the knife against your jaw. A silent threat that’s he’s still debating if he means.

But you manage to get the sentence out, stuttering, voice breaking halfway through. Mm, he’s missed hearing your gratitude. It’s almost sweeter this way than all the times you said it in his car.

“You’re very welcome, sunshine. Now, off you go, before I decide to teach you something else.”

You don’t hesitate when he steps back. Peel yourself off the wall and wriggle out to freedom.

Simon chuckles. What a fun little playdate, he’s so glad he let you go that first time. He’ll have to arrange another one soon.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #serial killer ghost #charmed ghost

1K notes · View notes

grandline-fics · 1 month

Text

The Little Things

DESCRIPTION: The little things they love with you

WARNINGS: just fluff

CHARACTERS: Law, Kid, Killer

WORDS: 734

A/N: Something small and slightly different that came to mind. Hope you all like it and have a good day. Thank you as always for reading

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

LAW

It might seem a little vain but Law loves how drawn you are to his tattoos. He loves how when he walks hand in hand with you, your thumb will always rub lightly against the inked pattern of his skin. You’re almost unconscious of it and he’s always silently expecting it and without fail you do it while looking around the new sights of the island the crew are exploring. It doesn’t stop at that though. When you’re sitting or lounging beside him in your more relaxed moments on the sub, depending on your position you have to have your hand on his arm or his chest with your fingers following the lines without even needing to be looking at them. Law finds it amusing how through muscle memory alone your hands just know the pathway of the ink perfectly.

Law loves how you accept his obsession with needing to work longer hours to a point. After becoming a couple you both reached an understanding that on the nights he’s drawn into his journals he has to read aloud in bed and even if you don’t fully understand the medical and other scientific terminologies, the sound of his voice will always lull you over to sleep. Finally when Law feels his eyes begin to grow heavy, he pulls you close and loves to lay his head close to your chest, his most treasured sound of your steady and strong heartbeat comforts him and is the final thing he needs to fall into a peaceful and restful sleep.

KID

Kid’s a simple man, one of the things he loves with you is when you help with his appearance. While he remains relaxed and perched on the edge of the bed you stand between his legs, perfectly slotted and almost pressed against his chest as you carefully apply his eyeliner and lipstick with a careful and steady hand. Kid loves the simple yet intimate moment each and every morning, trusting you completely while also getting to indulge in having his hand firmly against your hip, the appearance of keeping you steady when really you both know he can’t help but have his hands on you. Kid loves the complete focus in your eyes as you do this task, taking it seriously. He only closes his eyes when you’ve finished by pressing a gentle kiss against the scar.

More than anything Kid loves how at ease and adaptable you are in his larger than life presence. Despite him being the taller and louder in the pair you compliment him so well that it’s effortless. He doesn’t need to quiet who he is, you just accept him and match his energy in your own way. Whether he’s brawling in a bar or working on something in his workshop, you’re there as his constant support. He loves how easily you slotted into his life and made him realise just how much he needed someone like you to stabilise his chaotic nature without taming it.

KILLER

With Killer he loves the ability to communicate with you without needing to say much if anything at all. You’re both so comfortable and in sync with one another that you know what the other needs. One such thing being you always know when Killer needs the space to breathe and relieve the building pressure against his head. He wears his mask for a reason but constantly wearing it does cause a tightness and pain. You always know when Killer is reaching his limit and find a way to sneak him away, letting him pull off his mask and lay his head down in your lap and immediately feel your fingers sink into his hair and massage the tension away from his skull.

Killer loves having you with him in the kitchen. The two of you cook together in perfect harmony while also working together on making new recipes. Anything that Killer comes up with you’re always the first to taste test, giving him the only opinion he values while knowing that you will be completely honest and will offer helpful criticism or suggestions that will always help him improve his cooking. Killer also loves how you’re also as protective of the space as he is, always quick to kick out any of the crew when they try to sneak food before it’s ready, especially when it’s Kid that needs to be reprimanded.

531 notes · View notes

aylish91 · 4 months

Text

Thank you so much @aoi-kanna for letting me commission you for this absolutely lovely art peice for my story!!! I have always loved your leviathantale art so this has brought me great of joy.

Thank you!!!

~~~

Gaurdian's of the Deep

Your grandmother had always told you stories of The Guardians and their servants, great beings of untold power that protected your island. They used to be everything to your people. Now, with every fallen elder and new face coming in, they faded to nothing. But you knew. Your grandmother made sure you'd know. You had to honor those memories and old gods. Give one last prayer before the mainland took everything. It was the least you could do.

After all, if you honor, thank, and give; one day, something might just be given back...

One life, for the eternity of another.

Grand Master Post

#my writing #aoi-kanna #Gaurdian's of the Deep #leviathantale #x reader #leviathan x reader #sans #undertale fanfiction #nightmare sans #dream sans #killer sans #dust sans #murder sans #horror sans #cross sans #mer reader

879 notes · View notes

im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 7 months

Text

Halloween prompts year 2 day 28

Thomas stared down at Bruce-no- Danny as he led him by the hand toward what he had dubbed as his "Secret Lair" which was just an old fall out shelter in the woods that had been well hidden and forgotten about. The door to it was old and still buried under years of dirt and plant growth, requiring Danny to phase them into it which made Thomas wonder how his grandson had found it in the first place.

Inside was surprisingly high tech. "You have a secret lair filled with all this equipment but don't have any weapons or armor?" Thomas asked, making mental preparations to fix that.

Danny sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and explained his only allies were two other 14 year olds who were also untrained, unarmed, unarmored, and unsuper-powered which would explain why Danny was so excited to be working with an adult vigilante who at least knew what they were doing.

The kid didn't even mind when some of his more evil or harmful rogues "stopped showing up" thankfully no one would really question the reclusive Vlad Masters "going back to Wisconsin" only to never be seen again. No one saw much of him before coming to Amity Park, it made since he would become a hermit again once he had his fill of human interaction.

And if hes later found dead in his cheese castle? Well, the body had decomposed too much to really say what killed him. His will left everything to a Daniel James Fenton/Daniel James Masters which visibly infuriated Danny. Thomas mentally patted himself on the back. It was a good call to get rid of that one. The will was a surprise, though one that can only benefit Thomas in his crusade of protecting his grandson. Its not like he can return to a timeline that no longer exists anyway.

Unfortunately this doesn't stop the bats from hearing about "Batman" operating in a city in Illinois for the past few months...

#halloween prompts #dpxdc #thomas wayne #batman #thomas wayne as batman #phantom is being the Robin to Thomas Waynes Batman and its a blend of happy fluff and broody angst #danny phantom #danny fenton #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny knows about the killings but is willing to turn a blind eye so long as it doesnt go too far or become unreasonable #skulker and vlad both kinda deserve it tbh #skulker is a self proclaimed serial killer who sometimes skins his victims alive...kinda and you cant tell me Vlad who has canonically #kidnapped tortured expirimented on ect on danny hasnt done this before when he seems so comfortable and familiar with doing it #thomas will not speak about of the things he saw at vlads mansions and secret hideouts #lets just say there was a lot of book burnings #imagine when the batfam learn about this #damian: You have our grandfather >:(#danny: you have out dad* catmom* knifemom* all our siblings* AND alfred. i get to keep gramps!#danny: *hugs grampa batman protectively*

1K notes · View notes

absolutown · 1 year

Text

Brandon Flowers X Reader 🇺🇸

Brandon Flowers was on a hectic and busy tour around the world, but as much as the stage was the whole world, his mind was always on one place: with you, the most important person in his life.

Ronnie and Dave couldn't help but notice the sadness in his eyes. They tried to distract him with jokes and stories, but even so, Brandon was left feeling lonely and worried.

''Hey man, what's happening?'' asked Dave. ''I don't know, I'm just feeling weird'' - Brandon answered hesitantly. ''You know what it is. It's the lack of her.'' - said Ronnie, affectionately.

Brandon sighed deeply, and with tears in his eyes, he tried to explain the anguish he felt:

"It's longing, you know? I can't get her out of my head for a minute. I miss her smile, the way she hugss me, and there's nothing I can do". "Hey, don't look like that," Dave consoled, putting a hand on Brandon's shoulder. - "You know she's there at home waiting for you, anxious to see you".

Ronnie agreed and added:

"And we're here for you, doing what we can to support you." "Thanks, man. I feel grateful to have you two by my side" - said Brandon emotionally.

That night, at yet another high-energy show, Brandon looked out into the crowd and saw a girl who looked just like you. He stopped singing for a moment, and when he came to, both Dave and Ronnie noticed the change in his countenance.

"What there was?" Dave asked. "I thought she was here, in the crowd. I miss her so much, you have no idea" - Brandon replied, his voice cracking.

Dave put his arm around Brandon's neck sympathetically. Ronnie, on the other hand, suggested:

"We need to distract you. Shall we play video games?"

With a wistful smile, Brandon accepted the invitation. And they played video games late into the night. But despite the fun, Brandon still felt the longing squeezing his heart.

The next day, before the show, his friends accompanied him backstage. Ronnie sat on the couch and before Brandon could say anything he asked:

"Very good, my friend. But we know that's not what will comfort you. We need to tell her how much you miss her."

After the show, Brandon goes back to the hotel and texts you:

"Hi, my love. I just played the song I wrote for you. I can't live without you anymore. I'm sorry I get awkward sometimes. I just wanted to tell you that I love you more than anything in this world."

When you responded, Brandon was happy to hear that you shared his feelings. You talked, you laughed, and he was finally able to feel relieved. As soon as he hung up, Ronnie and Dave went into his room and hugged him.

"We're glad to see you're feeling better, man. But don't forget, we're here for you, always" - said Dave. "We're family, Brandon. And we know what it's like to miss you," Ronnie added.

#brandon flowers fanfic #brandon flowers x reader #brandon flowers imagine #brandon flowers #the killers fanfiction #the killers fanfic #the killers #brandon flowers fanfiction #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction

3 notes · View notes

simpleeindulge · 5 months

Text

The Beast and the Mouse

Info: fem/reader x Kid, 1st meetings, cussing and rude language, Kid in denial, Kid gets a crush, implied sexual yearning, future mature content planned.

Context: Kid develops a crush on a girl he thinks is not his type.

Part 1.

Eustass Kid was in a foul mood, and he didn't care who knew it. He stumped through the ship with his fist clutched, looking for Killer. It was rare for him to be pissed off at his best friend and first mate, but dammit, he screwed up!

Killer happened to be in the same room with his fucked-up choice of a new crew member, making Kid paused at the doorway to glared at the man's back. Killer sensed the hostility and glanced over his shoulder. The movement gave Kid a better view of the girl's eyes. Those damn beautiful, doleful eyes that made Kid go still nearly every time he saw them.

“Need something, Captain?”

Kid snapped out of his daze and glared at Killer.

“I need to speak with you in private,” Kid said through gritted teeth then walked away.

Killer tilted his head at Kid, then shrugged and followed him. It was odd that Kid wanted to talk somewhere else.

Normally, Kid would tell whoever was in the room to get out if he wanted to talk with him privately. When Killer walked into Kid’s messy quarters and closed the door, Kid rounded on him and bellowed, “What the hell, Killer! What were you thinking, letting her join the crew without asking me!”

Killer threw up his hands in defense, and he wore a surprised expression behind his mask.

“What are you talking about, Kid?! You asked her to join! Remember!”

“I did not! I-”

But then Kid remembered that he did offer her a chance to join his crew. It had been after a battle with some weaker crew. They celebrated the win at a bar on a nearby island, and she was one of the barmaids there serving drinks.

That is, she was supposed to be serving, but she saw the wounds on some of the men drinking and started treating with her meager medical kit.

Kid had some woman straddle across his lap and happened to see the girl recleaning a wound on Killer. At the time, it was amusing to see this small mouse of a girl patching up rowdy pirates as they drank. How she concentrated on the Killer’s wounds while being aware of her environment made her a paradox of perfection.

“Hey,” Kid called over to her as the woman on his lap kissed and nipped at his neck. “You got a name?”

The girl looked up at him, and Kid, for some reason, froze. There was something about how her eyes shone as she stared directly at him. Her lips were pressed together in a sweet pout, and her hair fell in soft-looking waves around her shoulders.

Kid didn't know if it was the booze, but he felt a desire to shove the busty woman off his lap and carry the girl off. Considering how small she looked, he could even tuck her into his furred cape for safekeeping and have her for later.

The woman stopped kissing Kid, looking peeved that he wasn't paying attention to her.

She then saw who he was looking at and whispered in his ear, “That’s Y/n, but we all call her ‘Mouse’ because of how quiet she is.”

Kid blinked and then laughed at the name, and the harlot laughed with him. “Mouse, huh? How would you like to join my crew?”

“Kid.” Killer said his name to bring some sense to him, but Kid plowed through.

“You’ll see the world beyond this dump ‘little mouse’! See things you never thought possible! Enjoy pleasures you never thought to desire! You would be one of us! The infamous Kid Pirates!”

His voice carried through the bar, and the rest of his crew got swept up in their drunken state and cheered their captain. The girl just sat and stared at Kid as the crew gulped their drinks.

“Think about and talk to Killer when you make up your mind, ‘little mouse.' We set sail tomorrow at noon.”

Kid forced his attention back to the woman on his lap and began biting at her shoulder, making the woman gasp and laugh with pleasure.

After that, well, he ended the night with a good fuck in one of the bedrooms upstairs and walked back to the ship with a massive hangover early the following day.

He didn't see the girl nicknamed Mouse till they were already out at sea. She was helping to scrub the floors in the mess hall when Kid tripped over her, spilling the bucket of soapy water. He was about to yell at whoever tripped him when Kid recognized her from the bar.

“YOU!”

"Oh! Captain, I'm so sorry; let me help." She said softly as she took out a clean cloth and dried his face. Her hand touched his leg as she leaned in to press the fabric to his skin.

Kid went from anger to pure lust. He wanted to grab her and roll her under him without caring who was watching. The sudden carnal desire he suddenly felt overwhelmed him, and he quickly shoved her off him and stood up over her.

She made a surprised sound and glanced up at him with a wounded look that made his knees weak.

“How long have you been here?” Kid growled at her.

“Three days.”

“Who let you on my ship?”

“Killer, but you-”

Kid had left to find his first mate as he cursed himself.

Dammit! How could she have already been here for three days without me noticing?

Which led to the present problem of what to do with her now she's on the ship.

"I tried talking to you the day we set sail, but you were still hungover.” Killer explained as Kid rage grew.

“So you just let her on the ship!”

“The girl insisted on joining the crew. I was there when you asked her, and she didn't care that you were drunk when you asked her." Killer continued to explain.

"So this is my fault?!"

Well, yeah, duh, Killer thought but knew better and instead said, "Look, she may be useful. Heat looked over her bandaging skills. She's not bad and has enough medical knowledge for him to show her more."

"For what!? A nurse!" Kid roared. “We don't need another nurse!”

"She'll be a field medic." Killer clarified.

Kid's mind just stopped as he stared dumbfounded at his first mate. Her? A field medic? Her? Why not just shoot her now? It would be kinder and faster. Or if they wanted to make it slow, tie her up and drop her overbroad.

"You got to be kidding," Kid laughed as he started to pace the room.

"You want that small girl to go onto a battlefield and treat our crewmates! I might as well kill her right now! It would be the one good deed tied to my name!"

Kid then ran a hand through his red hair as he stopped pacing and shook his head. "No! No way! I want her off the ship!"

"But Kid, you-"

"I don't care what I said to her! No way am I keeping some weak pissant around to hold back our crew back!"

Killer's shoulder heaved as he sighed and said, "Okay, I'll see that she's off the ship at the next port. In the meantime, I'll have her do some odd jobs so she can earn her keep."

"Why wait?! Just put her on a rowboat and-"

"Captain."

Kid froze and snapped his gaze toward the doorway. Mouse, that is, Y/N, stood there looking at him with a firm expression on her sweet face.

It was unsettling how quiet she was as she moved. The door to Kid's cabin always creaked, yet she opened the door without a sound. She took a breath and walked into the room. Kid watched her and, for some absurd reason, felt nervous.

"Captain," she said again, "I want to stay and prove you wrong. I won't hold the crew back."

Killer watched as Kid had to visibly shake himself out of whatever sinkhole his mind had just dived into. He readies himself as Kid squares his shoulders and glares down at the girl. The girl didn't appear intimidated and even clasped her hands in front of her as her chin tilted up.

"You want to prove me wrong. Are you saying that you aren't a weak little-"

"I have experience treating the wounded, and I'm not afraid to go into a battle to help." She said quickly as her eyes softened at him.

Her voice was not raised, and her tone didn't sound desperate. It was like she was offering Kid a favor. A kind, healthful favor that made Kid's insides go all mushy.

"Please, Captain." She added gently as her lashes blinked at him. "Let me stay."

Killer glanced at Kid and was surprised to see him deflating. And if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, Kid was... blushing? Yes, yes, he was. Kid was actually blushing over this tiny, sincere girl who looked out of place on their ship.

Kid gritted his teeth and slapped his hand over his nose and cheeks to hide part of the redness spreading on his face.

“Captain?” She asked again, now looking worried.

Kid growled and turned his head away as he shouted, "Fine! You can stay! But if you screw up, I will personally end you! Now go find something useful to do before I toss you off the side!"

Y/N smiled widely and didn't appear offended by Kid's shouting or threats. "Yes, Captain! Right away! I'll start by cleaning your room!"

"Wait, what?!" Kid had barely enough time to respond when both he and Killer were shoved out of the room and had the door slam closed on their backs.

"What the-how?"

He turned and stared at the closed door and back at Kid. How was a tiny girl able to shove him and Killer out in the blink of an eye.

"She ate the scurry-scurry fruit," Killer explained with a shrug as Kid looked to him for an answer. "It's the other reason she was known as Mouse at the bar. She can move around quickly without making sound and lift five times her weight for a short time. It's also why I gave her the field medic job."

"She can't turn into a mouse, right?" Kid asked as he shivered at the thought of a human transfiguring into a rodent. "Cause that would be gross."

"And less cute," Killer commented with a slight grin behind his mask.

The way Kid snapped his head around at him was enough to prove his sudden discovery. His friend's face was even beginning to redden again. Killer held back a chuckle and cleared his throat.

"I'm going to get a drink; want to join?"

Kid grumbled and walked in the other direction away from Killer. There was no fucking way he thought that the girl was cute. Weak wasn't cute; it was annoying and a pain. She wouldn't last a week with his crew.

If she died on the job, it would be her fault, not his! What was she thinking taking his drunken offer?! Didn't she know she was too delicate for this kind of life?! Didn't she know how small, soft-looking she was? How cute-

"NO! NOT CUTE!" Kid roared as he raked his fingers into his hair and nearly ripped off his goggles.

Nearby onlookers wisely glanced away and didn't bother their Captain. Kid growled and turned to stomp back to his room to throw the girl out.

When he got there, she was already gone, leaving behind a tidy room. Kid glanced around, huffed, and muttered, "I guess she can stay."

He then flopped onto his clean bed face first and sighed. He'll worry about his 'Mouse' problem later. All this raging was making him tired.

As he closed his eyes, he could smell the scent she had left behind while making his bed. Thoughts of her being in his bed, being under him, squirming and wriggling as she whimpered and moaned, seeped into his mind. Kid groaned and growled as he punched his fist into the blankets.

She was going to be a pain, and not just in the ass; Kid mused as his groin throbbed.

A big pain for such a little creature.

Part 2.

#eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #eustass kid x reader #eustass x reader #op eustass kid #eustass kidd #eustasscaptainkid #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid #op fanfic #one piece #op killer #kid x reader #captain kid x reader #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #op x reader

519 notes · View notes

harrywavycurly · 11 months

Note

The concept of Eddie being a serial killer but being sweet to us just makes me imagine serial killer Eddie and a princess reader 😍 she’s so innocent but is married to a literal killer.

Hiii babes!!! Oh my gawwwddd staahhppp!!! This concept is *chefs kiss* because it’s just the irony of you being all sweet, innocent and probably a little too nice/trusting while being married to a serial killer who you have cutting the crust off your sandwiches and leaving you love notes on the coffee maker before he rushes off to “work”🫠 Just let me indulge myself for a moment okay?

Masterlist: here

TW: Eddie is a serial killer

“Honey where is the pot that I make soup in?” Eddie holds his finger up making the man tied to a chair in his own basement stop squirming for a moment. “I want to make soup for dinner is that okay?” Eddie quickly puts his phone on the work bench next to his duffel bag so he can put you on speaker, placing you on mute as he looks into the eyes of the man with a busted lip.

“Make a sound and I’ll make this the longest most painful night of your life understand?” The harshness of Eddie’s voice instantly makes the man just nod his head making Eddie smile as he unmutes you. “Soup sounds amazing Princess, the pot is on the bottom shelf in the cabinet to the left of the stove.” Eddie begins rolling up his sleeves as he hears you rustling around in the kitchen, a loud banging noise making him raise an eyebrow at the phone. “You okay baby?” He hears you let out a sigh letting him know the answer.

“I can’t find it.” Eddie’s eyes flicker from his phone to the man tied to the chair. “I really want soup.” He knows by the way he hears a small sniffle come from the phone that you’re about ten seconds away from having a breakdown in the middle of the kitchen.

“Listen to me baby,” he glances at his watch and then back at the man in the chair. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be on my way home and I’ll make you some soup how does that sound?” He knows you’re contemplating the idea and he can’t help but smile as he pictures you sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor letting out a huff because you wanted to make the soup for him, he’s always thought you were so adorable when you were slightly frustrated.

“Fine but can I help?” Eddie quickly grabs the gloves out of his duffle and begins to put one of them on as he hears the sound of you plopping down onto the couch.

“I’ll never say no to your help sweetheart.” He watches the man carefully as he pulls out the next few items from his duffle, his eyes glaring into the man’s reminding him to stay silent. “Now I’ve got to go okay? I love you and I’ll see you soon.” You tell him you love him too before both of you hang up. “It’s your lucky day,” The man’s face goes white as he tries to wiggle out of the ropes that are tied around his ankles. “This is going to be quick but…probably not painless.” 🙃💖

2K notes · View notes

bby-deerling · 2 months

Note

Can you do a Headcanon about how they flirt with you 🫶🥰 with Law, Kid, Killer and Zoro

hehe sure, nonny! <3

flirting with you

ft. law, kid, killer, zoro (kid and killer's are a bit suggestive!)

masterlist || commissions

zoro

he thinks he's being obvious when he purposely seeks you out, moving the location of his workouts near you so that you can spend quality time together while he trains. being near you, talking to you while he lifts that ridiculously big weight over his head, it all puts him on cloud nine.

however, once he realizes his actions could probably be misconstrued as simply getting to know you better, he gets a bit more blatant, seeking you out to take naps with him. at first he's content with you leaning against him, but he eventually gets bolder and uses the opportunity to "accidentally" end up holding you close to him.

he also loves to tease you; it's not malicious like the way he picks on sanji, but he can't help himself from bantering with you sometimes, especially if he catches you staring at him or sees your cheeks turning pink from his words.

kid

he does not beat around the bush. if eustass kid likes you, you will know. the lines he uses on you are somehow both ridiculously corny and shockingly crude. there's no reading between the lines; grasping for straws for any kind of platonic explanation leaves you coming up empty.

he is also relentless. unless you scream in his face and tell him you're not interested, under any circumstances, he sees you playing hard to get as part of the fun. he's rough around the edges, and likes a partner who can go back and forth with him and hold their own—as long as they eventually fold for him.

if you flirt back with him, he's bold enough to get touchy, no matter where you are. kid doesn't hesitate to pull you into his lap or nip lightly at your neck, even if there's dozens of eyes glued to the two of you.

killer

he is much more polite than his best friend. it's a bit hard to tell that he's interested due to not being able to see his face, but the way his voice softens when he talks to you is a dead giveaway.

he intently listens to whatever you have to say, and gets completely captivated by the conversation you're having; eventually, he ends up letting his hand drift and absentmindedly reach over to hold yours, carrying on as if nothing had changed.

as the night goes on, he'll get a bit bolder and wrap his arm around you, running his broad hands up and down your forearm as he holds you close; the two of you continue talking, but he gets more intimate with it and ends up murmuring things in your ear until both of you drop the pretense and head towards somewhere a bit more private.

law

he gives you special little privileges, hoping you'll take him up on them and choose to spend time with him. he leaves his office door cracked open, and tells you, and only you, that it's a sign that he's available to talk. when you end up slipping through the door and joining him, he's over the moon, but also very nervous. he's trying his best! he just wants to be perfect for you! he also shows you a little bit of favoritism, and purposely doesn't assign you the chores that you hate doing.

when the polar tang docks on a peaceful island, he brings you with him when exploring their new destination. he always says it's just luck of the draw, but after a while it becomes blatant that he wants you by his side. he'll often diverge from your current task to get coffee, or check out a used book store—he acts as if stops at these destinations are straying from his plans, but truthfully, he picked these places out before he even left the submarine.

once the two of you grow closer, he brings you all kinds of little thoughtful gifts and trinkets; he's always thinking of you, more than you know. he can't quite find the words to say it, so he's resolved himself to showing you instead.

#one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass kidd x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader #killer x reader #law x you #zoro x you #eustass kid x you #one piece headcanons #one piece fanfiction

818 notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months

Text

a collection of soft moments with rafe

words: 2.4k

warnings: none?, rafe being kinda desperate... okay maybe really desperate in the last one

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv

“i was tryin' to fly but i couldn't find wings.” you sing along to the song, swaying slightly as you finish cleaning off the table, ears perking up when you hear the door open and close, signaling that rafe just got home, but you continued your clean, “but you came along and you changed everything.”

you feel rafe’s hands on your hips suddenly, making you jump, not realizing over the music that he had entered the room.

“you lift my feet off the ground.” taylor’s voice continues to sing from the speakers as rafe turns you in his hold. your hands instinctively go to his shoulders, smiling up at him as rafe starts to sway along to the music. “you spin me around.”

at the lyric, rafe begins to slowly spin you around the room, looking down at you with the most genuine look of love in his eyes that you’ve ever seen.

“i love you.” you mouth to rafe, not wanting to interrupt the song with your words as he pulls you closer to him, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"feels like i'm fallin' and i'm lost in your eyes. you make me crazier, crazier, crazier."

“don’t we have to leave like right now rafe?” you ask, rushing to his closet when he asked you to pick out his outfit for him. one of his favorite things to do is pick out what you’re going to wear, especially for a night out with him, and he likes to reserve the favor for you too.

“we can be late.” rafe says, still in just a pair of gray sweatpants, while you’re completely ready in a simple deep blue dress, chosen of course by your boyfriend.

you sift through his shirts, having one in mind, a blue patterned button down that would match your dress. you finally find it and pull it out, handing it to rafe to put on while you find a pair of pants that would fit the color scheme.

you watch as rafe dresses, looking to you for approval. you frown. there’s nothing particularly wrong with the outfit, but it’s just not pulling together for you.

“hold on.” you hum, knowing you should be moving faster so you can get to your event, but you honestly are enjoying playing dress up using rafe.

“try this.” you toss him a new shirt, but again it doesn’t spark anything in you.

“put on your black shoes, i’ve got another in mind.” you turn back to his drawer, hoping that the light blue shirt you’re thinking of is complementary to your own dress.

you find it on the bottom of the drawer, and hold it up happily to rafe. “look! it’s perfect!” you know before he even tries it on that it’ll go perfectly with what you’re wearing.

rafe pulls the shirt over his shoulders, but you stop his hands from doing the buttons as you take over for him, tongue sticking out of your mouth slightly in concentration as your fingers work on the tiny button.

you leave the top two undone, the event not being too formal, and liking the peak of skin. “perfect.” you say, looking at the two of you standing next to each other in the mirror.

“thank you baby.” rafe says, looping his arm around your waist. “i love spending time with you.”

you feel your cheeks flare red as you blush at his words. “all i did was get you dressed.” you try to deflect his words.

“i know and i loved it.” rafe presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“hm.” rafe says, “can you change your shoes?” you look down at your sandals, taking them off and putting a pair of converse instead. “you know, if you just told me where we were going i would be able to pick out a better pair of shoes.” “good try, baby.” rafe smiles, taking your hand as you head out the door, to whatever surprise that rafe has planned.

you get into the car, trying to tell where rafe is taking you by the drive, but it’s out into the country, so you ignore trying to figure out where you’re going and instead just enjoy rafes hand on your thigh and the music playing through the stereo.

“rafe!” you gasp as you see the explosion of colors on the road ahead. “you did not!” “i did.” rafe says cockily, obviously expecting your excited reaction.

“i cannot believe you actually brought me flower picking.” you lean over as rafe parks, pressing kisses to his cheek. “you’re the best boyfriend ever.” “i know.” rafe laughs, putting the car into park and turning his head to let you kiss him, lips pushing together in a display thats a bit overly passionate for the parking lot, but you’re just so happy that your usually closed off to the world boyfriend becomes a total sweetheart just for you.

“don’t you dare open your car door.” rafe says, pulling away from the kiss. you just smile as he rounds the car, opening your door and helping you out.

you take a deep breath of the flower scented air, eyes looking over all the different rows of brightly colored flowers.

“come on, we gotta get our jar and scissors.” rafe takes your hand in his, leading you towards the booth. there’s only a few other people picking flowers today, so there’s no line when you approach and rafe quickly pays.

“alright, baby, i already know you’re thinking about what you want.” rafe laughs, knowing he’s not really there for choosing the style of the bouquet you make, rather to be the one to cut the stems for you and hold everything.

“mmm, i’m really feeling like an orangey-red-yellow color palette.” you say, heading towards the flowers with rafe following close behind.

“rafe! come here!” you call out to him, and you hear his rapid footsteps as he runs into the bathroom.

“are you okay?” he asks, eyes searching for any sort of potential danger you might be in.

“i’m fine, rafey!” you say, waving your hands as if that’s going to dissuade his worry and take it all away.

rafe comes to where you’re standing in front of the mirror, pressing you into the sink as he pushes his chest into your back. “you scared me.” “sorry, baby.” you hum, picking up a packet from off the sink. “want to do a facemask with me?” “is this what you called me in here for?” rafe questions, looking at the plastic package in your hand.

“mhm. i’m doing one too, it’ll be fun.” rafe sighs, burying his head in your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your bare skin, glad that you’re only wearing a tanktop so he has more access. he considers saying no, but he just can’t deny you what you want.

“fine, but no pictures and don’t tell anyone about this. ever.”

you squeal in happiness, ripping open the package and directing rafe to bend down that way you can place the sheet mask on his face, choosing a brightening one for him while you’re going to go for hydrating.

you giggle seeing your boyfriend, who plenty people consider scary, in the skincare. he glances in the mirror with a frown.

“you look super cute.” you say. “now let me put my mask on then we can sit on the bed and watch tv until it’s time to take them off.”

“what is all this for?” rafe questions, not expecting to come home to the counters filled with baked goods.

“oh perfect timing!” you say, heading over to rafe and giving him a quick kiss on the lips in greeting.

you place your hands on his shoulders, steering him towards the island. “sit down, i need you to taste test everything for me.” “i would be more than happy to do that baby but um-” he pauses, eyes once again moving over the multitude of cupcakes decorated in different ways, along with cookies and some pastries he doesn’t know the name of.

“oh, right!” you giggle, placing a cupcake in front of him. “i decided to enter a baking competition.” “really?” rafe asks, peeling the wrapper off a cupcake and taking a bite, his eyebrows shooting up. “well, you’re definitely going to win, this is delicious.” “really? be honest rafe, don’t just say that because i’m your girlfriend.” rafe shakes his head, taking another bite. “no seriously babe.” you let out a little squeal in happiness, clapping your hands together as rafe chews more. “okay, but stop eating that, you’re going to get full and i have a lot more i need you to try.”

you take the plate holding the cupcake away from rafe, sliding a different pastry in front of him. rafe eats it, again complimenting you as you cycle through the different things you’ve made while he was away.

“here, this is a pumpkin puff pastry.” you give him the next dessert.

rafe happily takes a bite, but his face suddenly twists. he covers it up quickly, but not before you’re able to tell.

“you don’t like it?” you ask, and rafes heart breaks at your big eyes looking at him, so upset.

“no, it’s really good, i just-” rafe grabs the glass of water you got him, taking a sip to wash down the treat.

“i just am not a fan of pumpkin.” rafes words don’t seem to make you feel any better, so he turns on his stool and pulls you into him, placing your body in between his legs.

“princess, i’ve loved everything you made, you’re absolutely going to win this baking competition, gorgeous.” “you really think so?” you ask, reaching your hands up to play with the collar of rafes shirt.

“of course.” he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “now whats next for me to try?” rafe asks, even though his stomach hurts from how much he’s eaten.

rafe presses another kiss to your cheek, making you look up from the book your reading. “what is it baby?” “nothing.” rafe shakes his head, but takes the now closed book out of your hands and sets it on the coffee tables. you can’t hold back a giggle as he takes your hands and brings it up to his face.

“do you want some attention?” you ask, rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks.

“mmm.” rafe just hums, closing his eyes as he finally gets what he wants. you scooch over on the couch so you’re sitting closer to him, your thighs pressing together.

you move a hand up to play with rafes hair, making him drop his head against the couch, cheek pressing into the cushion. you lean forward and kiss the tip of his nose, admiring his blissed out face now that you’ve finally got your hands on him.

“gimme a kiss.” rafe says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

you melt into his body, enjoying the soft knitted sweater he’s wearing and the way it feels against you.

you press your lips against rafes, letting him take the lead in the slow and easy kiss, taking pleasure in the way his lips glide over yours.

you pull away after a minute, resting your head against rafes forehead. it’s a rare moment of complete peace, where rafe is calm and relaxed. you hate to break it, but you eventually stand up, giving him another kiss on the lips.

“where are you going?” rafe asks, reaching out and tugging on your hand.

“i’m going to go take a shower.” you say, feeling gross with your oily hair, plus, you really need to shave, the prickly hairs are starting to bother you.

“okay, i’ll join you.” rafe stands up to follow you, but you place your hands on his chest with a shake of the head.

“usually, i’d love for you to join me, but i’ve got… girly stuff to do.” you decide that it’s a good enough explanation, but of course it doesn’t dissuade rafe.

“okay and?” he deadpans, making you roll your eyes.

“just not this time, rafe.” you start to walk away, up the stairs to your bedroom, but rafe is right on your tail.

you decide to ignore him, heading into the bathroom and beginning your shower prep, deciding to do a hair mask while you shave, getting out your razor and creme from the counter underneath the sink.

“i’ll turn the water on for us.” rafe makes a point of using the pronoun.

“baby.” you groan, placing your products on the shower bench. “i don’t want you to just stand there and watch me shave! i love you but i need a minute alone, okay?” “fine.” rafe leaves the room quickly, swinging the door shut behind him. you sigh and rub your eyes, but turn the water on to heat up.

time passes quickly as you go through your extended shower routine, your phone playing music from it’s place on the sink counter. you finish up, feeling completely refreshed and clean. you pull the robe rafe got you around your body and head out of the bathroom.

“rafe?” you gasp, seeing him sitting on the floor next to your bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, head slumped forward.

“baby!” he picks his head up suddenly, but you can still read his emotions how upset he is.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you kneel down in front of him, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. his eyes are ever so slightly red and you wonder if he’s been rubbing at them or if he’s been crying.

“i-” rafe takes a deep breath, “i hate being away from you.” “oh, honey.” you heart breaks, and you lean forward to wrap your arms around rafes shoulders, who drops his knees so you can get closer. “if i would have known it was that big of a deal, i would have let you shower with me, i just didn’t think you actually wanted to see me like shave and stuff.”

“next time you’ll let me in?” rafe asks in a soft voice that breaks your heart.

“of course.” you take his face in your hands, angling it to press a kiss to his lips. “i love you.”

the spark in rafes eye is finally back. “i love you too.”

#writing ghostface rafe so this was a refreshing break from that lol #needed to get out of him being a LITERAL SERIAL KILLER and write some cute bf rafey lol #rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron blurb #rafe fanfiction #rafe one shot #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x you

604 notes · View notes