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railingsofsorrow · 9 months

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summary: in which a phone call ruined your day.

... or not, because your boyfriend made sure to be there for you until you were okay again. pairing: s. reid x gn!reader

w.c: 2.1K

warnings/content: reader is reckless and puts themselves in danger (one time); angst; mentions of shutting people out; an argument happens but the fluff comes right after; case-related violence; reader is going through something but it isn't explained; mentions of past bad habits; be aware of spelling errors.

A/N: my finals aren't over but I forced myself to take a break for the night. thus, I'm posting this hurt/comfort blurb. hope you like it.

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“you're mad.”

the day started good. you even got breakfast at home, which is something it almost never works out. but a case only arrived at around nine, so you had time to eat something before leaving.

spencer made toast, crispy, just the way you liked it. you sipped on your orange juice as he took his coffee, hand resting above yours in the comfortable morning silence you liked to partake in.

the day started good.

until things went south really quick.

it all begun with a phone call. not a work call, you were pretty used to those and when hotch called you up to the briefing room, everybody was already filling out paperwork in the bureau.

your mood went sour in a matter of seconds. you think you were able to desguise it from most of the team, though. except for spencer and maybe emily, because emily noticed every eyelash that was out of place, she couldn't even help it.

the news you got caused you to retract back to old habits, shutting people out and drowning in work to avoid thinking about it. you were numb, doing everything on autopilot, but you didn't let it compromise your professionalism. never. that fucking phone call wouldn't make you a bad profiler for a second. you wouldn't let it.

being numb lead you to be impulsive. and you took advantage of that. you'd jump straight into action just to avoid dealing with your problems. just to forget.

“i'm not mad.”

your boyfriend's tone was clipped, short. almost cold, but it didn't got that far yet. it took a lot to make spencer reid mad. but when it happened, and you were the reason, you were always conflicted on whether to let him cool off for himself, give him space, or beg for forgiveness right after you screwed up.

this time, you decided on the former. you don't think it worked that well.

the unsub had a gun pointing at a seven year old child. he was cornered in every way possible. police cars were still arriving at the scene, although five FBI agents aimed at the man, ready to shoot in case he so much as twitched a finger on that trigger.

anxiety ran along the bystanders as they watched it all happen in their neighborhood. you hadn't plan that, in fact, all of you had planned something else entirely. the profile was solid as well as the location and the unsub's endgame.

but people are unpredictable. no matter how hard you've studied the human brain. in certain circumstances, they would be capable of anything. including threatening children's lives.

your boss advised everyone to stay back. that they had it covered. it was only a matter of talking him down, carefully and with confidence.

but the second you heard the sob of that seven-year-old boy, you stopped focusing on the command reaching your earpiece. bulletproof vest and gun set aside, you marched forward, no ounce of hesitation. you knew what you were doing.

“spencer.” you followed him into your bedroom, a tired sigh leaving your lips as you felt your legs wobble slightly. you were exhausted. the day was hell both physically and mentally and you just wanted to take a good shower and sleep for forty eight hours. you wanted to forget it ever happened. you wanted to forget that phone call.

he didn't spared you a glance as he grabbed a pair of clothes to get into the bathroom. there was it. that coldness you hated. it was finally here. “spencer, please. can we talk?” you begged. if there was one thing that suffocated you was sleeping while upset. and your boyfriend was an elite grudge holder. you just couldn't do that tonight.

“of course.” he leaned back from the door just before entering the bathroom. an impassive expression across his featured as he turned to you. you wanted to scream at him. “you've been avoiding me all day, but you want to talk now? of course.”

okay. you deserved that.

did you though? why couldn't he make your life a little easier?

“sorry I was rude to you,” you said, holding back the petty comment wanting to slip out of your tongue. sorry I'm going through something and you're being an idiot about it. “i didn't mean to. I shouldn't have treated you that way.”

spencer's tongue poked around his cheek and you braced yourself for what was about to happen. an argument. in the middle of the night — morning, it must have been past two am.

“i don't care that you were rude the entire day.” spencer clarified as if that would make things better. “i care that you threw yourself in front of a psychopath with a gun, without a bulletproof vest and only your hands to work as a shield.”

“you had my back.” you insisted, recalling the moment the whole team started to shout at both you and the unsub. they were behind you, you had good coverage. “someone needed to talk him down.”

he didn't seem to be on the verge of snapping anymore. his shoulders were slumped. he was tired too. he was exhausted. it has been a long day and you needed to rest. you needed to sleep. you needed to forget.

it had started as a good day.

“we were doing that.” spencer mumbled, softly. he eyed your bitten cuticules, the bandage in your arm and your far away gaze. spencer wasn't stupid. he noticed things. he noticed you. he knew something was wrong from the moment you excused yourself to take a phone call in the middle of the case briefing. you came back into the room a different person. contained. robotic. strictly professional. “why couldn't you wait?”

“it was a child. he was scared.” you snapped, flinching away from him. “he didn't have time to wait.”

spencer pressed his brows together, deciding to not mention the time you did have to do what you had to do. statistics wouldn't help now. “you could have gotten shot in the chest.”

“it barely grazed my arm.”

“that's not the point!”

“and what is?” you yelled back, turning to him, fuming. “there is no point. the boy was in danger. you decided to wait. I decided to act. he's alive. I'm barely hurt. the case is over.”

spencer faltered, seeking something in you that he wasn't able to find. his gaze travelled accross yours in a desperate attempt to make you realise how stupid that single sentence was. one mistake. one wrong move. and you could have been somewhere else instead of in your shared apartment.

a bodybag.

“who called you?” you blinked at him, taken aback by the question. you expected him to blame you further. you even expected him to ignore you for the rest of the night. you would not back down. “i know something happened. someone happened. you're not... you wouldn't do that if you were thinking.”

“so because I'm impulsive one time, you're questioning my judgement?”

“when your judgement makes me almost lose you, yes. I am.” he crossed his arms, licking his lips as he studied you. profiled you. you fucking hated him right now. you wanted to rip his brains out.

“there was an entire team aiming at the guy, spencer.” you scoffed, pressing a thumb against your forehead, a headache brewing. your will to argue has vanished. you just wanted to sleep.

“you were blocking our aim.”

“can you stop?”

“no.”

you no longer had control of your emotions as your sight begins to be blurred by tears. fuck, I can't do this.

the room became silent. as if hearing your inner turmoils, spencer paused. he thought it through, any possibility that might have caused your sudden mood change. your impulsiveness. he thought he had done something, but by your reaction it wasn't that. it wasn't him.

it all shifted after that phone call.

you didn't retract when he approached. you didn't reject his touch or pushed him away. but you remained frozen, locked up in your own cage.

“do you want to talk about it?”

it had started as a good day.

you stood up, brushing your strands behind your ears and swallowing up the feeling of something permanently lodged in your throat.

you didn't turn to watch his expression faltering in disappointment. you didn't had the guts to see it.

“no.” you said. “i'm fine. I'm going to take a shower. I'm tired.” you left to your shared bedroom without a goodnight, knowing it would be pointless since you'd be sleeping alone tonight.

sleeping was a strong word. you closed your eyes, pressing your eyelids so tight that you're seeing stars. tossing and turning for around one hour in an empty bed was enough to leave you upset. the weight of the day and the argument you had with your boyfriend taking a toll on you.

maybe you hadn't been fair to spencer. it's not like he did anything to force your sudden mood change; he had absolutely nothing to do with it, actually. he wasn't responsible for that phone call, he wasn't the person at the other line whose voice you didn't want to hear ever again. he was just the one at the receiving end of your irritability.

your boyfriend, he wasn't one to pry. to force you to speak of things that made you uncomfortable. things you weren't ready to discuss yet. he was the kind of person who would ask if everything was alright and he would make sure you knew you had a shoulder to cry on and a ear to vent if necessary.

spencer was caring and respectful. he knew you needed space just as he did at some moments. so much so that he wasn't sleeping on the couch because he was mad at you — though you had been rude for that to be case — but because being around him, or anyone for that matter, would only set you off.

his curled up frame on the couch, half covered by the blanket and half uncovered to the night air. curls splattered around the pillow he stole from your bedroom when you were still in the bathroom. you wanted to bury yourself into his arms and never leave him again. you wanted his warmth all over you.

standing on the entrance of the living room, you watched his eyelids move incessantly. it was what told you he wasn't in a deep sleep.

he was pretending to be sleeping and you knew he was aware of your watchful eyes.

“i'm sorry.”

you mumbled into the uncomfortable silence, scratching your arm beneath the bandage in nervousness. shifting into your feet, you contemplated approaching him, but remained in the spot.

he peaked at you as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room. he moved to a sitting position, outstretching a hand in your direction. an invitation.

“c'me here.”

you didn't need to be told twice.

“i'm sorry I was rude to you, I didn't mean it. you were just there and I—” he shushed your ramble with a kiss to your temple, arms squeezing you against him the way you craved in bed a few minutes ago. “i'm sorry, spencer. please don't be mad at me.” the last part you let out in a soft whisper but it only made him pull you closer as a form of comfort, to erase the pain you were feeling.

spencer cupped your cheeks so you would look at him “i'm not mad.” he promised, thumb grazing your face lovingly. “i just thought you needed space, but I promise I'm not mad, okay?”

you nodded with your lips trembling slightly. you were fairly certain that if you were to speak anything right now you'd burst into tears immediately.

you did manage to let out i don't want space, I want you. because it was all that you needed right now. always.

he kissed every teardrop that slipped out after that, bringing you closer to lay on his chest as he rested his back against the arm of the couch.

“i'm here, baby.” he whispered, fingers dancing across your arms. “always.”

you turned on his hold to be face to face with him, lifting one hand to touch the side of his face, caressing his jaw where you felt the growing stubble on his chin.

“thank you.” you said, smiling faintly when he pecked the tip of your nose.

he ended up covering the both of you with the spare blanket.

he breathed out as if pretty satisfacted with your current position, even though you both will most certainly be complaining of backache as soon as you wake up tomorrow. “i love you.” he let out, not minding about the pain in his joints in the morning. the only thing that mattered was you in his arms, safe and sound.

the day started good, until a phone call ruined it completely.

or not. because spencer was there and he kind of made things bearable. and if he could just make you feel better for a little while, that's what he would do.

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taglist: @lilyviolets

#reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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lecsainz · 1 year

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Secret Crush

pairings: 2022 grid x driver!reader / fabio quartararo x driver!reader

warnings: grid of 2022, drivers being gossipers and acting like older siblings, seb as the father figure of the group and pierre being intrusive.

authors note: i started watching motogp not long ago, but I think it turned out great, and i can really picture this scene of them bothering Y/N and wanting to know who the boy was. just imagine them helping her get ready for the date and interrogating fabio about his intentions with Y/N. and I tried to include all the drivers but it's almost impossible 😭

word count: 2.6K

Y/N had always been a fan of Fabio Quartararo, the young frenchman who was making waves in the MotoGP world. So when she got a message from him on Instagram, she was over the moon.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, he just messaged me!!" Y/N exclaimed to herself, pacing back and forth in her motorhome at the paddock.

She quickly composed a reply to Fabio's message, trying to sound cool and casual, but her hands were shaking so much she could barely type.

Y/N: "Hey, what's up?"

She hit send, then collapsed onto her bed, heart pounding with excitement. A few moments later, her phone buzzed with a reply.

Fabio: "Not much, just hanging out at home. Saw your race last weekend, you were amazing! How's the f1 life treating you?"

Y/N couldn't believe it, Fabio had actually watched her race! She started pacing again, muttering to herself.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, he thinks I'm amazing! What do I even say? I have to be cool, I can't sound too eager."

She took a deep breath and composed another reply.

S/N: "Thanks! f1 life is treating me well, but it's tough out here on the road. How about you? How do you deal with all the travel and pressure?"

Again, she hit send, then waited anxiously for a response. It came quickly.

Fabio: "I know what you mean, the travel can be exhausting. But I just try to stay focused on the racing and not let the other stuff distract me. You seem to be doing a great job of that too!"

Y/N couldn't stop grinning he was being so nice to her! She paced around her motorhome again, feeling giddy.

"Oh my god, he's so sweet! Maybe he's interested in me too? No, no, don't get ahead of yourself, Y/N. Just be cool, be cool."

She took a deep breath and composed another message.

S/N: "Thanks, that means a lot coming from you. Maybe we could grab a drink sometime and chat about racing?"

She hit send, then waited nervously for a reply. It came a few moments later.

Fabio: "Sure, that sounds great! I'll be in town for the next weekend race, how about we meet up then?"

Y/N couldn't believe it, she was actually going to meet him in person! She let out a squeal of excitement and did a little victory dance around her motorhome.

"I can't believe this is happening! This is going to be the best weekend ever!" she said to herself, grinning from ear to ear.

As Y/N read his message, she started to hyperventilate. She had just asked him out on a date, and now he was actually interested in meeting up with her. She looked up from her phone to see the other F1 drivers staring at her in confusion.

"What's going on, Y/N?" Charles asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, you look like you've seen a ghost." Lando chimed in.

Y/N blushed and put her phone down, trying to act nonchalant. "Oh, nothing, just messaging with someone." she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

But the other drivers weren't fooled. They crowded around her, trying to get a look at her phone.

"Who are you texting, Y/N? Is it a secret crush?" Carlos teased, poking her in the ribs.

"None of your business, Carlos," Y/N replied, trying to hide her smile.

"Ooh, it is a secret crush!" Lando chimed in, winking at Y/N. "Come on, you can tell us. We won't judge."

Y/N shook her head, still trying to keep the conversation vague. "It's nothing, guys. Just catching up with a friend." she said, hoping they wouldn't push the subject any further.

But the other drivers weren't going to let it go that easily. They bombarded her with questions and guesses, trying to figure out who the mystery person was.

"Is it a driver? A mechanic? A fan?" Yuki asked, grinning.

Y/N swatted his hand away and rolled her eyes. "No, it's just Fabio Quartararo." she said, trying to sound casual. “But please don't make a big deal out of it." she said, biting her lip.

The other drivers looked at each other in confusion.

"Wait, Fabio Quartararo? As in the MotoGP rider?" Pierre asked.

"Yeah! And I just asked him out on a date." Y/N said, blushing even harder.

The other drivers erupted into laughter. "Y/N, you little devil! I had no idea you had it in you." Daniel said, clapping her on the back.

Y/N frowned at them. "It's not like that! He just wants to talk about racing." she protested.

"Sure, sure, we believe you." Checo said, winking at her.

Daniel suddenly spoke up. "You know, Y/N, our little sister is growing up so fast. It seems like just yesterday you was learning how to drive, and now you’re all grown up." he said, grinning.

Y/N groaned, "Oh god, please don't start with that 'little sister' crap again. It's bad enough that everyone else sees me that way."

But it was too late. The other drivers had already caught on to Daniel's joke, and they started to join in. "Yeah, I remember when we used to have to keep an eye on her in the paddock. Now she's all independent and texting boys." Pierre laughed.

As the group continued to tease her about her crush on Fabio, Y/N suddenly felt a wave of panic wash over her.

"Guys, stop, please. It's not like anything is going to happen anyway," she said, feeling uncertain.

"What do you mean?" Charles asked, looking at her curiously. "You've got a date with him, right?"

Y/N nodded, feeling her stomach churning with nerves. "Yeah, but I don't know what to do. I've never been on a real date before."

The other drivers looked at her sympathetically, their teasing forgotten. "Hey, don't worry about it." Alex said reassuringly. "Just be yourself and have fun. It's just a date, not a marriage proposal."

Esteban added, "And whatever you do, don't order spaghetti. That's just asking for trouble."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Esteban shrugged, "It's messy and hard to eat. Not exactly the most attractive thing to do on a date."

The other drivers nodded in agreement, giving her thumbs up and high fives and Y/N couldn't help but laugh at their silly advice.

Sebastian noticed Y/N looking a bit nervous and approached her with a gentle smile. "Hey, Y/N, can I give you some advice?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

Y/N nodded eagerly, grateful for his guidance. "Please, Seb, I could use all the help I can get." she said.

Sebastian chuckled. "Well, first of all, just be yourself. Don't try to impress him by being someone you're not." he advised.

Y/N nodded, taking his words to heart. "Okay, I can do that." she said.

Sebastian continued, "And remember, if he's not interested, it's not the end of the world. There are plenty of other guys out there who would be lucky to go on a date with you."

Y/N smiled, feeling a bit more confident. "Thanks, Seb, that means a lot to me." she said.

Sebastian patted her on the back. "No problem, Y/N. You're like a daughter to me, and I want to see you happy." he said, with a warm smile.

Y/N felt a surge of affection for the veteran driver. "Thanks Seb, that means a lot to me." she said, giving him a quick hug.

The other drivers, who had been listening in on the conversation, teased Sebastian. "Aw Seb, you're such a softie." Daniel teased, winking at Y/N.

Sebastian rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a small smile. "Just trying to help out." he said, with a shrug.

Y/N grinned at the group of drivers. "Thanks, guys, you're the best. I'll let you know how it goes." she said, feeling more confident than ever.

But as Y/N was walked away, Daniel and Pierre couldn't resist teasing her a bit more. "So you finally going to make a move on Fabio?" Daniel asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Y/N blushed and rolled her eyes. "You guys are ridiculous." she said, trying to hide her smile.

Pierre joined in, "Yeah, and don't forget that we see you as our little sister, so we need to approve of any guy you date."

Y/N groaned, "Oh great, like I needed more pressure."

Max laughed, "Hey, we just want to make sure he's good enough for you. And if he's not, we'll beat him up for you."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at their antics. "Thanks, guys, but I think I can handle it." she said, shaking her head.

Carlos gave her a playful nudge, "Well, just remember that we're here for you if you need us."

Y/N smiled gratefully, feeling lucky to have such supportive friends.

Y/N couldn't help but mutter to herself as she walked back to her motorhome, "Ugh, I bet the entire paddock already knows I'm interested in Fabio. Gossip travels so fast around here."

As if on cue, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see George and Lewis walking towards her. "Hey, Y/N, heard you're causing quite a stir around here." George teased, grinning.

Y/N felt her face turning red. "Oh god, please don't tell me everyone knows." she said, feeling embarrassed.

Lewis laughed, "Sorry to break it to you, but word spreads pretty quickly in the paddock."

Y/N groaned, "Great, now I'm going to be the laughing stock of the entire grid."

George put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Nah, don't worry about it. We've all been there before. In fact, I could tell you some stories about Lewis and his love life." he joked, giving Lewis a playful nudge.

Lewis rolled his eyes, "Ha ha, very funny. But seriously, Y/N, don't let it get to you. Just be confident and be yourself. And if it doesn't work out with him, there are plenty of other fish in the sea."

Y/N smiled, feeling grateful for their support. "Thanks guys, I appreciate it. I'll try not to let it get to me." she said, feeling more confident already.

She was relaxing in her motorhome when her phone suddenly beeped with a notification. She quickly picked it up and saw that it was a message from Fabio.

Her heart started racing as she read the message, feeling both excited and nervous. But before she could even finish reading it, she heard Daniel's voice behind her.

"Ooh, who's that? Let me see." he said, trying to peek over her shoulder.

Y/N quickly swiped her phone away, "None of your business, Danny." she said, trying to hide her smile.

But before she could even respond to Fabio's message, another message popped up from him. "Uh oh." she thought to herself, knowing that it couldn't be good news.

Fabio: Hey again! Y/N, I heard something interesting today…

Y/N: Oh really? What's that?

Fabio: Well, Pierre mentioned that he thinks you might have a little crush on me.

Y/N: Oh no, he didn't!

Y/N: 🤦‍♀️ I can't believe he said that. I'm so sorry.

As she read the message, she felt a surge of anger and frustration. Pierre had told Fabio about her crush on him, and she was not happy about it.

"Where is that little weasel?" she muttered under her breath, storming out of her motorhome in search of Pierre.

Daniel and the other drivers watched in amusement as Y/N charged through the paddock, looking like she was ready to murder someone.

"Uh, should we be worried?" Lando asked, raising an eyebrow.

Daniel shook his head, "Nah, she's just on a mission to kill Pierre. Nothing new there." he joked, grinning.

Just as they were all laughing, Pierre suddenly appeared, running in the opposite direction with Y/N hot on his heels.

"Run, Pierre, run!" Charles shouted, laughing.

As the group continued to joke and tease each other, Seb suddenly walked up, looking slightly confused.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" he asked, looking around at the group.

George grinned, "Just Y/N chasing Pierre around the paddock. You know, normal stuff." he said, chuckling.

Seb raised an eyebrow, looking slightly concerned. "Should we do something? Is everything okay?"

Mick shook his head, "Nah, they're just goofing around. Y/N's not actually going to hurt Pierre." he said, smirking.

Seb watched in amusement as they ran past, shaking his head in disbelief. "You guys are all crazy." he said, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

Seb chuckled, watching as Y/N finally caught up to Pierre and tackled him to the ground. "You know what, I'm actually rooting for Y/N to get Pierre," he said, grinning.

The other drivers laughed, but there was a hint of agreement in their voices. Despite their teasing, they all knew that Y/N was a great catch, and Pierre would be lucky to have her.

"Alright, enough of this." Lewis said, clapping his hands. "We have a race to prepare for, remember?"

The drivers all nodded, reluctantly tearing their attention away from Y/N and Pierre's antics.

As the drivers walked towards their motorhomes, Y/N's phone started ringing. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Fábio. Her heart started racing as she debated whether or not to answer.

The other drivers noticed her hesitation and couldn't resist teasing her. "Go on, answer it!" Charles said, grinning.

Y/N shook her head, feeling flustered. "I can't, I don't know what to say!" she exclaimed.

The other drivers laughed, finding her panic amusing. "Just answer it and see what he wants." Lando said, patting her on the back.

Y/N's hands were shaking as she tried to answer the call, but just as she was about to hit the accept button, the call suddenly dropped.

"NO!" she shouted, frantically trying to call Fabio back.

The other drivers watched in amusement as Y/N paced back and forth, muttering to herself in frustration. "Why does this always happen to me?" she said, shaking her head.

Daniel grinned, "Maybe he's just not that into you." he joked.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Shut up, Daniel." she said, playfully punching his arm.

Y/N chuckled as she read his message, feeling her phone vibrate in her hand. She quickly typed out a response, trying not to seem too eager.

Fabio: Don't be sorry! I actually thought it was kind of cute. Is it true?

Y/N: Well, maybe a little bit...I mean, I do think you're pretty amazing.

Fabio: Well, I think you're pretty amazing too. In fact, I was planning on asking you out, but you beat me to it! I was so happy when you messaged me first.

Y/N: Really? I had no idea.

Fabio: Yeah, I was trying to work up the courage to ask you out, but then you beat me to the punch. I guess great minds think alike, right? 😉

Y/N: I guess so! I was actually really nervous when I asked you out too. It's funny how even race car drivers can get butterflies in their stomachs.

Fabio: Yeah, I know what you mean. But I'm really glad you did, because I've been wanting to spend more time with you. You're always so focused on your driving that I didn't think you had time for anything else.

Y/N: Well, I do have time for you. I think you're worth making time for.

Fabio: That means a lot to me, Y/N. I feel the same way about you.

Just as she hit send, she noticed the other drivers watching her with grins on their faces. She rolled her eyes and held up her middle finger, playfully flipping them off.

"Hey, that's not very nice." Lewis teased, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Y/N just laughed and shook her head. "You guys are lucky that I love you." she said.

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hellfirecvnt · 3 months

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Hard to Get

Prewar!Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ****This is a COMPLETE fic. This post is LONG!! Unprotected sex, oral, lying, slight fluff ending, Idk what else.

Summary: It's been a new experience being cast in the lead of the latest Hollywood movie. What's even more nerve-wracking is your far-more-famous-than-you co-star. After you can't seem to sell the chemistry between you to the director, you're pushed to spend more quality time with your cohort.

Notes: Barb doesn't exist. Cooper has never been married. I know she's the "bad guy" but I love and support Barb just bc she's a beautiful woman. Thank you.

"Quiet on the set!" A stout, demanding man's voice cuts through the dull rumble of idle conversation across the set of the movie you're starring in. It's your first lead role in a Hollywood blockbuster. You're nearly a month into filming, much more comfortable than you were in those early days. The veteran actors used to give you the hardest time. Some in jest, others in spite or envy. That's just showbiz.

Not a day goes by that nearly every man on the set makes at least two inappropriate remarks to a woman co-star or doe-eyed extra. Nearly, because one man, the other lead, has yet to make your stomach churn with unsafe discomfort. Cooper Howard. He's a world-renowned actor, known best for his westerns, but just as popular in other genres. Of course, he did ask you out for drinks in your first two weeks on set. He said it was to get to know each other, seeing as the two of you will be spending so much time together while filming, but your 10-foot-high walls wouldn't waver. You turned him down. Since then, he's been nothing but a gentleman.

The movie you're making is about a burnt-out detective on his last case. Cooper plays Detective John Silvers and you play the villainous minx, Monae Lark. The plot is that Monae will give John the run around of his life, accumulating mutual respect for each other's skills and eventually, accumulating romantic tension. The only issue with that storyline is... You are seemingly terrible at faking chemistry. SO much so, in fact, that they canceled all your scenes for the day and sent you back to your trailer. You are horrified as you step through the door, having held a perfectly calm face until then.

"Whoa, what's wrong with you?" Your agent, a short, frail, older woman with silver hair and a smoker's voice perks up on your couch when she sees your distressed face. Her name is Verna, and she's represented you throughout your entire career.

"They've canceled my scenes for today..." You slump in the seat nearest to you.

"What? Why?"

"Apparently, Cooper Howard and I don't have any chemistry." You make a mocking gesture with your hands. "The director is pissed."

"Well, duh. That's people's livelihoods we're wasting with every reshoot." Her bluntness hits you like a kick in the gut. "How do you two not have chemistry? You've been spending time together, right?"

"Of course! We read lines for almost two hours every day!"

"No, honey. That's working. Do you two spend time together? Like, get dinner and get to know each other?" The nonchalant nature of your agent's question perplexes you.

"Well, no," you admit.

"So you've just been coming in here and greeting him like a fuckin' grocery clerk before barking prewritten lines at him for a few hours?"

"I- Well... Yeah. He asked to get drinks back when filming first started, but I didn't want to look like the woman who got one big break and started fucking any man in Hollywood I could get my hands on!" The desperation in your voice is becoming more and more apparent.

"Relax, babe. The PR training we're gonna put you through to promote this film is gonna kill you if you can't have a little dinner and survive a few baseless rumors. I'm about to call his agent right now." The silver-haired woman reaches for the mint telephone and dials a number into the rotary.

"He still has scenes to shoot today, he's gonna be busy-" Your sentence is cut off when Verna holds a finger up, signaling you to give her a moment of silence. As she chats away on the phone, talking as if she's known the guy for years, you step over to the window of your trailer. Hesitantly, you peek outside, and there he is. Your intimidatingly famous and peculiarly handsome co-star.

"Fabulous! Talk soon, darling," your agent chimes from across the trailer. Just then, you see a man in a suit approach Cooper and tell him something. Context clues tell you all you need to know about their conversation. He's merely alerting his client of a scheduled meeting with his horrifically embarrassed cohort. You nearly squeeze your eyes shut to avoid the humiliation of any sigh or eye-roll he expresses in response, but that's not the case. You can hear him through the thin walls of your tin sanctuary.

"Tonight? Perfect. Send her something nice from me." He gives his agent a friendly pat on the back, sending him off. You can't help but notice Cooper's lingering smile, a new pep in his step. You can't help but chuckle at the display, it's monumentally relieving.

Filming wraps up for the day and even though your workday was cut short, you remained on set for various screen tests and voice-over work. A sudden knock on your trailer door causes you to jump. You pull your robe over your silk slip dress and open the door to an intern holding a luxurious flower arrangement in a crystal vase. Coincidentally, your favorite flowers.

"Oh! Thank you." You take the gift with a smile and the young man announces that it's from Cooper Howard, though you'd already gathered that much. "I'll be sure to thank him properly, then." You smile as the intern nods and takes off to his next task. You can't help but grin as you proudly place your new bouquet front and center on the counter. The large studio lights finally cut on and you step onto the large, open floor. It's much busier and louder now that the director has left.

"Glad to hear you changed your mind," a smooth, deep voice captures your attention. You turn to see Cooper approaching you, adjusting the buttons of his sleeves.

"You must forgive my ignorance, Mr. Howard. I'm a Broadway girl. I didn't realize how different our worlds are until I got here," you laugh. "Being seen out with a costar on that side of the circuit will get you dubbed something tasteless if you're not careful."

"Ah, well. Seems like the tabloids should spend less time worrying about what women do with their free time. I promise not to give them anything to talk about." He smiles a bright, friendly smile, winking.

"I appreciate that," you say, walking beside him as you head toward the exit. If you were leaving the theatre with your co-star in this way, all eyes would be prying into you with jealousy and hoping for the opportunity to knock you off your pedestal once and for all.

"You do have to do me one little favor though." He stops walking as if his request will be heavy. A lump grows in your chest as you assume this is it, this is where he proves he's just like the others.

"You've gotta knock that 'Mr. Howard' shit out," he chuckles. "Cooper." He extends a hand as if to redo your meeting all those weeks ago.

"Y/N," you grin, shaking his hand firmly. He repeats you as if your name tastes sweet on his tongue. With that, the two of you make your way to his car. He opens the door for you and you can't help but chuckle at his chivalrous actions. Cooper takes you to the nicest restaurant in town. Pricey, even for your recently fattened wallet.

"So, what should I know about classy, mysterious Y/N?" The refined, older man grins at you from across the fine wood table.

"Classy and mysterious? You give me far too much credit." You make a dismissive motion with your hand. "I'm an open book once you get to know me."

"And how easy of a feat is that, exactly?" He intentionally tilts his chin up, looking down at you through his eyelashes. You're taken aback by the effect it has on you. Unwilling to be an easily swooned newbie on the scene, you regain control of your train of thought.

"Not at all." You smile wickedly. "I hope you're patient."

"Of course I am, I've hardly noticed it's taken 20 minutes for our wine to get here." The two of you share a quiet laugh in the dimly lit restaurant.

"What about you, Cooper Howard? What should I know about you that the tabloids haven't already covered?"

"I'm an open book, no effort necessary." He shrugs. You burst into a hard-to-stifle laugh.

"I hardly believe that. What do you do in your free time?" You ask, staring off small.

"I drink inside a big, empty home and I reminisce." He sighs.

"What on Earth are you on about?"

"Before I was The Cooper Howard, I was just a man with a farm in the middle of sunshine and fresh air: nowhere."

"I never would've guessed," you shrug, taking in the new information. The waiter continuously fills your glasses and you take small sips as you listen.

"What about you, Broadway? What were your early days like?"

"I've been training and performing since I can remember. But I know I used to love drawing when I was a kid. I still do it sometimes, when I have time."

"Are you any good?" He asks bluntly.

"I'll have you know I was better than kids three and four grades above me in the arts program," you brag unseriously.

"You'll have to draw me something someday."

"I'd love to," you grin. The two of you continue talking, sharing funny stories from your childhoods and early days in your careers. After a while, this man whose status and essence alone used to intimidate you somehow feels like a peer.

"What brings a star of the stage over here to the film industry?" Cooper asks smoothly.

"They sought me out, actually. Must've been my look or the way I sound like honey with a transatlantic accent," you wink. Cooper chuckles, enchanted by you. He reaches a sly hand across the table and watches you notice it. You glance at his awaiting palm, but you don't meet his touch. He raises an eyebrow as he slowly closes his hand, drawing his arm back in.

"This place is nice, but-"

"I'm not going to your place, Mr. Howard."

"I was going to say we should order another bottle of this wine." He laughs, drawing you in with his brilliant smile.

"Forgive me, Cooper. One of these days I'll let my guard down," you jest. The evening rolls on smoothly. Your table is a quiet haven of laughter and camaraderie. For the first time in your career, onstage or in front of the camera, you feel a genuine sense of friendship with your co-star. When you performed Chicago as Roxy Hart, your male cohorts made the air thick with discomfort, while the women did everything in their power to drag you down. It's not their fault, of course. The industry forced them to be that way.

As the hours pass like minutes, the night comes to an end. Cooper pays the bill and tips the waiter a generous amount, not unnoticed by you. He walks you to the car, opening the door for you to slip inside.

"And they say 'Chivalry is dead,'" you wink as Cooper closes the door. In the few seconds it takes for him to round the vehicle and open the driver's door, he lowers his guard. Truly taken aback by your suave nature compared to the nervous mess he's known you as. It must be the wine, though neither of you is drunk.

Undecided whether or not he's met his match, Cooper finally opens his door and takes his position in the driver's seat. He seems almost nervous, not moving as gracefully or speaking as cool as he's known for.

"Just right around this corner, here," you say, pointing to the turn that leads to the road you live on. Cooper can't help but steal curious glances at the enigma next to him. What was meant to be a business dinner/ PR move has turned into a challenge to him, and doesn't every cowboy love a challenge? Of course, he had no plans of overstepping any of your many firm boundaries, but he planned to melt you the same way he melts for you right now.

You arrive at your home and he unfastens his buckle as well, leaving the car on. You glance at him, assessing his intentions. He's quick to notice your ocular pat-down and volunteers to put your mind at ease.

"I'm walking you to your door, sweetheart."

"That's very kind of you, Cooper. Thank you," you smirk, entertained by his ability to read you so keenly. He escorts you safely to the large oak door of your humble, yet still high-end abode. The two of you stand in silence for a moment until you speak. "If you try to come inside, I'll have to sic my very large dog on you."

"A very large dog?" Cooper asks, feigning mild fear.

"She doesn't like men," you smile warmly, bantering playfully.

"Maybe one day, she can try warming up to me."

"Until then, Cooper Howard," you nod, disappearing inside your house. He's nearly shocked, but mostly he's giddy.

What a woman, he internally monologues. His walk back to the car packs that same pep as when he found out about their dinner in the first place. Maybe even more.

After just a couple weeks of running lines together and the occasional after-work bar hop, your days on set become a comfortable routine, rather than a journey into the lion's den. You can't help but feel like you have Cooper to thank for that. The scenes between you two are now known to make the interns blush.

"Action!" The director's firm voice slices through the air. You and Cooper are positioned at opposite sides of the "room," a set made to look like Detective Silvers's office. It's dark, and a dim street lamp's glow reaches through the barely opened blinds. You run a delicate finger along the windowpane before speaking your first line.

"You've impressed me, Detective Silvers. That's not an easy feat." You take two steps to the left, placing your foot perfectly on your mark.

"You're not so easy to fool, Ms. Lark. Not like they said, anyway." The tone in Cooper's voice when he plays this character sends a wave of involuntary goosebumps down your flesh.

"You can call me Monae, honey. Don't we know each other well enough by now?" You strut gracefully across the room, leaning teasingly over his desk, where he sits. "They always say I'm a fool, because I play it so well, don't I?" Slowly, Cooper straightens up in his seat, bringing his face closer to yours as you drape across the desk.

"You keep a hell of a poker face, darling," he whispers. Something in his eyes tells you it's Cooper speaking, not Detective Silvers.

"Cut! That's a wrap!" The director dismisses the crew. Everyone's shoulders relax in unison. It's undoubtedly been smooth sailing ever since you and Cooper started spending more time together.

"Hey, Y/N," Cooper calls out to you as you head back to wardrobe. You turn and meet his gaze with a smile. "You're not busy tonight, are you?"

"Of course not. I'm waiting for my coworker to tell me what our plans are," you chuckle.

"Coworker? Ice cold. We're friends." His grin is diabolically attractive. You thank the stars above for the layers and layers of makeup concealing the darkening blush on your cheeks.

"Of course we're friends, Cooper. What are we getting into tonight?" You ask with an excited grin.

"There's a new lounge opening downtown. I know the owner pretty well. And not to brag or anything, but it's a pretty nice place to get a table on opening night." He smiles, holding his arms out as if he's waiting for a yes or no from you.

"Your friend's club is opening?"

"Well, don't make it sound too exciting now," his sarcastic tone draws a laugh from your lips.

"I'm pulling your leg, Cooper. I'd love to go." The two of you split off to get out of costume and makeup. Once you're back in your own attire, you begin to feel a sense of panic.

"You gotta stop making that face, babe. You're gonna get a worry line." Verna appears in the common area of your dressing room.

"Verna, what do you know about the new lounge opening downtown?" You turn to her with narrow eyes.

"It's a pretty big deal. Bonnie Lewis was complaining about not getting a table until next weekend," Verna laughs. You begin to wonder what kind of strings Cooper had to pull or if his story about knowing the owner was true. Not that you think him a liar, it just seemed like banter at the time.

"I need to go home." You snatch your keys from the hook next to the trailer door and bolt to your car. Verna stands in confusion, hair blowing in the breeze of your speedy exit.

"No, no, no!" You groan as you tear through your closet. Nothing seems to fit the idea you've made up in your head of what a woman should wear to something like this. You can't decide which would be more horrifying, being overdressed or underdressed. You start thinking up excuses to give Cooper why you can't come out tonight when suddenly, there's a knock at the door.

"Delivery for a Ms. Y/L/N?" The bright-eyed delivery girl hands you a large, flatter box. You thank her and nod goodbye, taking the package inside to your room. You scan the outside for any indication of what it could be or who it's from. You get fan mail all the time, so it's nothing new.

You take a blade to the taped seams and uncover a note atop a few layers of tissue paper.

"For tonight, if you want. -C.H."

You furrow your brow as you reread the note a few more times. Curiously, you place the note aside and reach for the tissue paper, unfolding it to reveal a stunning mass of glistening fabric. With widened eyes, you reach into the box and lift the garment to see it's a long, crystal-stoned dress with a high slit up the side. It reminds you of something your character, Monae Lark, would wear. It's gorgeous and looks like it costs as much as your Hollywood home.

You hold the dress up to your body in the mirror next to your bed and it's perfect. You certainly didn't own anything of this caliber until now. You get dressed and ready, hoping your finest jewelry does the dress its due justice. For just a moment, you stare at yourself in the mirror. You take in this heavenly view, you can hardly believe it's you staring back at all.

A ring of the doorbell snaps you from your thoughts and you make your way to the door. Standing on the other side is Cooper. The moment his eyes meet yours, his face becomes illuminated with a big, marveling smile. He glances at you, up and down, taking in the way the dress drapes over you like water down a stream.

"You look magnificent," he speaks in awe.

"Thank you for the dress, Cooper. It's beautiful." Your eyes sparkle as you thank him for your gift.

"You're discrediting yourself. It just looked like a sparkly piece of fabric before I saw it like-" he places his hands daringly on your hips. "This." You gasp at his invasive action, taken aback by his boldness.

"Shall we get going, then?" You smirk, undeniably excited by his touch. He leads you to the car and opens the door for you like a gentleman. His chivalrous displays only make you yearn more and more. He's always like that, even on set. He prioritizes your comfort, especially in the sex scenes, which you've been reshooting a lot lately.

Cooper escorts you inside the lounge. They don't even check the list, everyone knows who you two are. Eyes and camera flashes all focus on you as any and every media outlet tries to get their hands on the latest spot to be seen in downtown Hollywood. You feel glamorous on his arm as he leads you to the table. Cocktails are promptly ordered and arrive at your table in impressive time.

You take in your foreign surroundings. It all looks so high above you, yet you're here. It's humbling. The ceilings are tall and dark while the rest of the room is dimly lit. A band plays smooth music to a crowd busy with multiple conversations. You're both sat in a large booth with seating that wraps all the way around. The low light bouncing off the crystals on your dress draws any and all attention to your table. To you. To Cooper sitting with you.

The night is fun and exciting, you nearly lose track of your drinks, but as always, you manage to remain only slightly buzzed. Careful not to sully your own name with drunken hijinks. And while you're not drunk per se, you are feeling much bolder than usual. You can't seem to pry your eyes off of your arm candy. Cooper is quick to notice, playing into your flirtatious behavior.

"Do I have something on my face?" He chuckles, brushing his hand against his cheek, tracing his jawline. You know right then that you've been caught gawking and your face turns bright red, hidden thankfully under the dim lighting.

"No, Cooper. I just happen to like what I'm looking at, is all." You bite your lip, surprised by your own words. You even think you can see him blushing.

"If I'm being honest, I really like what I'm lookin' at as well." His eyes burn into yours.

"Everyone's looking at us," you whisper, drawing closer and closer to him in the round booth.

"Let them watch," he mumbles, closing the gap between you two and drawing you into a passionate kiss. Your heart begins to race as his hands roughly grip onto you, pulling you closer to him in the booth. "Can we get out of here, darlin'?"

"Take me home, Cooper," you sigh as your eyes travel back and forth between his eyes and his lips. You don't know if it's the drinks or the rush of being the main attraction in this swanky club, but it's taking you over and you have no objections.

"Whatever you say," Cooper says with a sly smile, extending a hand to you to guide you out of the booth. The walk to the door seems endless, as you find yourself ravenous to get him alone again. It's no secret for either of you that tensions have only been growing ever since your first dinner together. He clings to you, not so much possessively, but protectively. Almost as if he doesn't keep you latched to his side as you make your exit, you might fall away and break like the delicate crystals adorning your flowing dress.

The brisk night air coats your flesh in a cloak of goosebumps. Anticipation accelerates your pulse to an unknowable pace. When you reach his car, you pull his collar to your chest, cueing him to pin your hips against his vehicle and kiss you deeply, ignoring the paparazzi flash. But only for a second, as the second blazing flash snaps you back into reality and you hastily make your way into the car, giggling. Cooper shoots a knowing look at the flashing cameras, smirking with pride as he struts to the driver-side door.

When he gets inside the car, you're both laughing at the prying cameras. A part of you feels worried about how the tabloids will make you look, and Cooper can see that fear on your face. He furrows his brow.

"Hey, you know it's all..." He trails off, staring at you intently. You can nearly see his gears turning behind his eyes.

"Are you okay?" You ask, confused by his mid-sentence shutdown.

"Forget about it, I gotta get you somewhere a little more private." He winks, pulling out of the lot and past the ever-flashing journalists. You've fantasized plenty of time about this moment, how it'd play out. It's your current favorite dream to have, no doubt. His hand on your thigh lightly digs his fingers into your flesh, growing more and more desperate the closer you two get to your home in the hills.

You emerge from the car after he parks haphazardly in your driveway. The two of you are apart for mere seconds before he's upon you, locking your lips with his, wrapping the full lengths of his arms around you. You're nearly, quite literally swept off your feet. You lead him to the door and he follows your every step, beguiled. You open the door and spring inside.

"Surely I get to come inside just this once?" Cooper leans in your doorway as the distance between you grows. You stare at him, scanning your eyes up and down teasingly. He looks like he's ready to fall on his knees and beg.

"You're quite the gentleman, Cooper Howard." You shift your weight to your hip.

"My mama didn't raise me to barge into a lady's home uninvited."

"What part of our trip to the door makes you think you're uninvited?" You tilt your head. The conversation seems almost reminiscent of the characters you both play.

"The part where you didn't invite me in," he grins.

"My God, are you a Vampire?" You jest. "Please come inside. Make yourself at home," you say sarcastically. "Do I need to tell you what I expect you to do next?" Your words are rushed, as he speeds toward you once he's received his invite. He wraps you in another firm embrace and plants kisses and light bites along the slope of your neck.

"I think I can take it from here, darlin'." He plants another kiss. "Unless you're feeling like bossing someone around." He winks, allowing his hands to wander freely up and down your body, grasping at your breasts and thighs.

"Keep kissing me," you demand, to your own surprise more than his. He does as he's told, only hesitant for a second to register what you said. You break the kiss momentarily to make another demand. "Take my dress off, carefully." You instruct. Cooper happily obliges, doing exactly as you ask, carefully. Once your dress is carefully placed aside, he takes in the breathtaking sight of you, nearly bare before him, just a room's length away.

Your undergarments suggest you had this plan in mind long before getting in the car this evening. Lace and silk with garters and corsetry. You're unreal, even to a Hollywood Star like Cooper. His mouth hangs agape as he drinks in the image laid out in front of him.

"Well?" He awaits his next instruction.

"Oh, please," you scoff. "Lose the jacket, loosen the tie." He does as he's told, taking your commands and unfastening a few of the top buttons of his shirt. As he draws closer to you, crossing the room from where he'd sat your dress out of harm's way, he rolls his unbuttoned sleeves up his arms. There's something primal and animalistic about him as he towers over you where you lie on the bed.

"Now, you tell me what to do." Your voice is almost shaking as you say this, excited and anxious to shift the power dynamic. Cooper's face spreads into a soft smile. It's almost eerie.

"Come here." He snaps his fingers softly, pointing to the edge of the bed in front of him. You giddily comply, taking your seat with a pretty posture. You're perfectly positioned at his waist. "Belt."

You waste no time, wrapping your hands delicately around the buckle of his belt, unfastening it and moving on to the button and zipper. Cooper's erection strains against his underwear, hard and throbbing against your palm. He sighs at your touch, eyes rolling back in his head as you toy with him through his boxers.

"Touch yourself," he commands with a quiet rumble of a voice. You do as you're told, locking eyes with him as you slip a hand past your panties. You moan under your own knowing hand, pouting your lips in an 'o' shape. Truly putting on a show for someone so deadset on maintaining a "pure" reputation.

"Cooper," you moan his name, earning a surprised smirk from him. He shakes his head in disbelief.

"So careful, so reserved, so... Mysterious," he chuckles, caressing your cheek in his palm as you continue to play with yourself. "I knew you must've had secrets, but my God, you filthy little thing." His words are like sugar and honey as he showers you with praise. "I'm going to make you feel so good, babydoll."

Cooper gently tugs your arm away from your drenched panties and replaces your hand with his own. He carefully pumps his middle finger in and out of you, earning sensual moans from deep in your chest.

"Oh, my God!" You chant to the heavens, riding an indescribable high. Cooper is far more skilled with his hands than you could've anticipated. After a few moments, you realize he was paying attention to the way you touch yourself, and is now attempting to mirror that. And he's doing well. The attention to detail is enough to bring you ecstasy all on its own.

He tugs his undergarments down, freeing his tumescent cock from its restraints, still fingering you all the while. His large size is jarring, but you've never been the type to turn away from a challenge. You take his shaft in your hand and pump up and down as you wrap your lips around his tip. His hand is quick to find the back of your head, carefully working you further and further down his length with each bob of your head.

"Jesus Christ, baby. Look at you," he groans, tugging your hair to make you go faster. You keep at it as long as possible, long after your neck is good and sore. Finally, he takes a sharp inhale and pulls your face away from his waist.

"Lay back on the bed, darlin'. I can't wait for this anymore." Cooper withdraws his hand and slides your panties down your legs, careful to leave the rest of your scandalous outfit in place. You're certain he's going to place himself in front of you and fuck the daylights out of you, but instead, he lowers his head to your dripping cunt and begins licking broad stripes up and down your slit.

You melt into his technique as his tongue explores every corner of you. The knot in your stomach tightens as you arch your back, desperate for more contact. A daring hand makes its way to his pushed-back hair, encouraging him. You can feel his lips curl into a grin against your delicate skin. In your pleasure-induced haze, you begin to wonder how you found yourself in your own bed, getting eaten out by Cooper Howard.

Suddenly, he pulls away. His actions are rushed now, almost desperate as he reaches for his waist, taking the base of his cock in his hand and positioning himself over you. You're anxious but excited. There's a fire in your blood as he slips inside of you. Both of you emit guttural moans, filling the room with the vulgar sounds of huffing breaths and wetness as he thrusts in and out.

"You look so pretty when you're getting fucked," he whispers in your ear before jerking you up from where you lie. He positions you on your hands and knees and you take it upon yourself to arch your back like a cat, dipping as far down as you can. The sight of it is enough to make Cooper faint. You're the prettiest putty he's ever had in his hands. He trails his soft, open palms down your sides, resting his hands on your ass.

Cooper gropes and smacks the supple flesh, earning coos of approval from you with each strike. He basks in your beauty for a while, taking the moment in. He bites down on his index knuckle, looking away from you for a moment. You glance over your shoulder to investigate the sudden hold-up, and he looks preoccupied.

"Cooper," you gain his attention back to you. "Now is a terrible time to have second thoughts..."

"I'm afraid all I'm thinking about right this second is this." Abruptly, you feel him slip back into you. A gasp invades your lungs as you push yourself backward, allowing him deeper inside. His pace is quick and steady, guiding you like an expert to your orgasm. He's at it for so long, your arms threaten to buckle. When he notices the slightest waver in your elbows, he shoves your face into the mattress. Your arms are instantly relieved and he picks up his vigorous pace.

"Oh, god!" Your wails echo off the walls of your large bedroom, stroking his ego with every moan.

"Come on, baby... Cum for me..." He huffs, talking you through the growing knot in your stomach. He withdraws for mere seconds to shift your positions. He plants his feet on the floor and returns you to your back, tossing one of your legs over his shoulder as he picks up where he left off. His thrusts become sloppy, though they still maintain that toe-curling speed.

"Oh, wait!" You cry out, but his hips refuse to relent. He shushes you sweetly, fucking you until your climax renders you breathless. You moan loudly and sensually, it's like music to Cooper's ears. You're well and fucked out as he continues chasing his own high. After only a few more moments of overstimulation, he pulls out and pumps his cock until he finishes on your lace-clad chest. You watch him through fluttering eyelashes as he throws his head back in ecstasy.

"You're... Something else," he huffs between heavy breaths. You create room for him to collapse next to you on the bed and he happily obliges. The two of you, sweaty and breathless, lie in comfortable silence for a short while. "Hey, when do I get to meet your big, dangerous dog? She's awfully quiet."

"I don't have a dog." You state flatly, admitting your lie.

"I had a feeling that threat wasn't so serious."

"Oh, it's plenty serious. It's just not true. You can stay the night if you want," you offer with a smile as you rise from the bed and make your way to the bathroom to shower.

"Stay the night, huh?" He repeats you.

"Yes. I'd like it if you did," you wink, disappearing to clean yourself up before bed. Just as you're about to reach for the handle to turn the water off, you're joined in the shower.

Cooper buries his face in the crook of your neck, holding you close to his naked body from behind. You share a passionate kiss under the warm running water before you step out and let him take over. The two of you sleep in each other's arms, completely naked, bundled in your expensive bedclothes.

In the following days, news breaks of your visit to the lounge with Cooper. The photo of the kiss by the car is plastered on every magazine faster than you can blink. At first, you're terrified of what this could mean for your stage career, should you never get another role in film, but Cooper continuously reassures you. Weeks go by and you can't remember the last time you left the set without him by your side. He makes you feel safe and beautiful. You trust him in ways you didn't think you could trust men in the industry. You don't care if the two of you never label what you have, you're just happy to have it.

It all seems to be a little too perfect until the day the film debuts. You and Cooper are a sight to behold on the red carpet at the premiere. The cameras can't seem to keep their blinding flashes off the two of you. Cooper seems in high spirits, wrapping you in tight hugs and kissing your forehead sweetly. You're a sap for his PDA ways.

The movie receives a standing ovation and you've never felt more pride in your life. For yourself, your co-stars, and the crew. Riding a high so strong it feels like glitter in your blood, you can't wait to get your man back home and show him how proud you really are.

"Cooper, hey!" You call out to him at the exclusive after-party. When he turns to face you, he smiles wide, pulling you in for a kiss while damn near dipping you like a dance partner. "Whoa, I need to call your name more often."

"Screaming it works for me too," he winks, eliciting a red-faced chuckle from you.

"Are you coming back to my place, or do I have to beg?" You ask, staring up at him with large, sparkling eyes.

"Well," he looks at you and then glances around the room, seemingly lost in thought for only a moment once again. "Of course, darlin'."

After arriving at your home and promptly tearing each other's clothes off, you lie leisurely on the bed next to Cooper. All of a sudden, he's sitting up and getting out of your bed. You're hardly aware of what he's doing until you realize he's getting dressed.

"Where are you off to?" You sit up, perplexed by his out-of-character quickness to leave.

"Unfortunately, I'm a busy man after a film premieres." He's staring at his cuffs, fastening the button as he talks to you.

"Of course, of course. It's just... So late."

"You're telling me, honey," he quips, planting a quick kiss on your lips and disappearing out the door. You hear him exit out the front and start up his car, pulling off into the night. You sit in silent shock. Surely that didn't just happen. Cooper Howard didn't just come over, fuck you, and leave after your film premiere after weeks and weeks of an ongoing intensely sexual relationship.

You decide to remain calm, after all, what else can you do? He's not yours to worry about, but worry, you do. You climb out of bed and shower as usual after a night with the beautiful man you thought you trusted until moments ago. What reason did he have to lie to you? To leave? You're a white-hot ball of smoke and fire when you emerge from the bathroom.

A lot of things can be used to describe you, most of them, very good. One thing, for you, stands out. Anger. You're slow to anger in nearly any situation, but when it happens, it happens. You're someone else entirely when you're angry. You get dressed, somewhat casual, somewhat flashy. Something to blend in wherever you may find him because that's where you're going.

After perfecting your hair and makeup- not one to get caught slacking- you slip into your car and make your way to the first few places you can assume he'd be. You check the restaurant where you had your first outing, in case he'd already romanced another co-star on another set. Not there. You check the lounge his friend owns. Not there.

"Hey there, handsome. The owner in?" You ask the bouncer.

"He's in the back, you're welcome to come in, Ms. Y/L/N."

"Thank you, darling. You're my favorite part of this place, you know that?" Your praise causes him to blush slightly and you make your way to the back office.

"Whoa! You can't just waltz in here!" A man wails angrily behind a shabby desk.

"I can. I definitely can. Where is Cooper tonight?" You tilt your head, scanning the man's face for any inconsistencies in his expression.

"Oh, shit! Y/N, we don't really get a lot of customers before we open," the man jokes, hoping to avoid the question. Not because he knows anything, but simply because he's not a snitch. You respect him for it... or not.

"Where is Cooper?" You repeat.

"I don't know. Wouldn't tell ya if I did." The man shrugs shamelessly.

"I'll be seeing you, Vince." You smile warmly and depart. From behind you, you can hear him yelling after you, asking how you know his real name. You're a different person when you're angry, an observant person.

You leave the lounge and check a few more places with no success. Finally, you drive toward his house. The car is completely silent save for the sound of your angry, shuddered breaths. What it all comes down to is you never expected Cooper to owe you anything, but he was going to call it quits to your face like a man or you'll do it for him. When you pull down the long, private driveway, you're shocked and appalled by what you see.

There's a party going on. A real classy rager, it would seem. Your perfectly lined and lipsticked upper lip is pulled into a disgusted sneer as you exit the vehicle and calmly strut toward the door. You don't bother knocking, who'd hear it? You walk right in the door and resume the endless search for Cooper. You circle like a vulture to a carrion, eyes narrow with anticipation.

"My God, Y/N, is that you?" A familiar voice booms behind you. Sebastian. He plays a part in the movie that just dropped.

"Sebastian, you look stunning in yellow," you gush, latching onto his arm. This outgoing, charismatic behavior is foreign on you, but he's too drunk to notice your near-blind rage.

"Does Cooper know you're here? Come with me, darling." Sebastian guides you to the backdoor down several sets of porch and deck stairs. You can already see Cooper before he sees you. He looks drained.

"Sebastian, is he okay?"

"You ought to know, shouldn't you?" He winks, nudging you with the arm you're clinging to.

"What does that-" your question is cut off.

"Cooper! You won't believe who I've found," Sebastian announces, stepping out of the way to reveal you. Cooper's eyes widen.

"Ohh... Sea Bass, you gotta get out of here..." Cooper whispers, not breaking eye contact with you.

"What? Why? I thought you-"

"Go inside, Sebastian." You intrude, staring tangible daggers into Cooper. Sebastian finally vacates the premises and you wait for Cooper to start talking. The two of you share a long moment of staring before he finally stands from the patio chair.

"Y/N, I can-"

"Explain? You can explain. This is incredibly hurtful and confusing, but thank God you can explain." You hiss. He's taken aback by your venomous tone, but he knows he has it coming. "You don't owe me anything, I get that. But I was so clear that I didn't want to be treated like this." Your words sound heartbroken, but your tone is steady and harsh.

"I would've told you- I wanted to tell you, but your agent-"

"About the party? I don't care about the party, Cooper! I'm talking about all this fucking time we've spent together. You really put on a show for those paps, I remember that. Why go public when we won't even put a name on it?"

"Y/N, are you talking about the PR stunt? By the car? I thought that you..." He motions vaguely with his hands to symbolize his confusion.

"A- A PR stunt?" You repeat, mouth hanging open.

"Wasn't that why you kissed me?" Cooper asks, clearly as confused as you are.

"No, Cooper." You nearly laugh in disbelief. "That's not why. Why did you come to my house and do all that in front of no cameras? Huh? Was that a PR stunt? Did that feel like I knew it was a PR stunt?"

"I hesitated! I was wondering the same when you-"

"Well, thank God you hesitated. Hallelujah, amen, I'm going home. Sorry if I messed up your ruse. I hope I didn't ruin the illusion of nothing." You grit your teeth to stop you from speaking anymore. The walk back up all those steps and past everyone inside feels a thousand miles long. Cooper just stands there, silent, watching you walk away. Your emphasis on your last word holds all the hurt you were trying to hold back.

"What just happened?" Sebastian appears behind you like the busybody he is.

"Exactly what everyone thought: nothing." Your words are meant to sound hateful and angry, but they just sound sad now. You speed out the front door, away from the party and everything it entails. Once you're in the car, tears pour down your face. Your worst fear comes true. Humiliation, heartbreak, hubris. You begin to understand what they mean when they say "too good to be true."

At your agent's request, you're staying at home for now. Minimizing going out unless it's for press. And God, there is so much press. So many large rooms that feel hopelessly cramped as you find yourself shoved into Cooper at every turn. You maintain perfect composure for the cameras, even Verna is impressed as she watches from the sidelines. She's heard your woes time and time again, but even she sympathizes with you this time. You worked so hard to avoid this situation for so long in your career.

"Do you think we could talk later?" He mumbles in your ear with a big, fake smile and you giggle as if he's whispered sweet nothings.

"Fuck you." You reply with a playful faux grin. He sighs, but neither of you let up from the act.

"You really are Monae Lark, huh?" Cooper chuckles nervously.

"Please let me just get through this in peace." Your voice carries hurt. So much so, that he can feel it in his chest when you speak.

"Alright, I'm sorry." It's the last words shared between you two for the entire rest of the evening. You're ice cold, surrounding yourself with walls much, much higher than before. Cooper notices, but no one else, save for Verna and maybe even Sebastian, can tell a difference. Your ability to mask this pain only adds to his endless guilt.

You're being interviewed with another actress, finally tied up in a conversation you want to be in. You're glowing in comparison to your moments next to Cooper. Meanwhile, he and Sebastian sit off to the side, having just finished their interview with the same host.

"I think you should just accept your loss. Maybe you two can rekindle something in ten years," Sebastian shrugs. Cooper looks at him in disbelief of what he's just suggested.

"I don't want to 'rekindle something in ten years,' I want her now. I want her back." He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, stressed.

"I thought you weren't putting a label on it," Sebastian chuckles.

"That was before I found out that she had no idea we were doing PR, fucker."

"Oh, calm down. It was a misunderstanding," he looks at Cooper. "So make it understood."

In the days following that event, Cooper tries his hardest to take Sebastian's advice, but you won't let him speak when you answer your house phone and realize it's him. Weeks go by and you demand Verna find a way to schedule you and Cooper at opposing time windows for every press event here on out. You appease the crowd with a lot of "We just missed each other, but I'll see him at home," with a stupid wink. Everything feels so fake. It feels like you're constantly acting now, it's exhausting.

"Look doll, I can't help you out of seeing him at the award show in a few weeks," Verna warns. It's now been a month since you and Cooper last saw each other, longer than that since you've spoken. You're both so busy, your minds haven't had time to ruminate on each other like when you had to see each other all the time. The pain has softened and even the paps stopped asking about where the other one is when you go out.

"It's fine, Verna. But I want you to hire the stylist from my press tour in Italy last year. When I was in Aida."

"On it, boss," she salutes, already holding a phone to her ear.

Verna gets you some face time with the stylist and you discuss what you're looking for in the look. You describe something sparkling and demanding attention, something Monae Lark would wear. As you watch the designer sketch, you realize you've described the dress Cooper gifted you. You're just now piecing together that it was meant to look like your character, it wasn't meant to be a sentimental gesture. You become furious all over again, demanding that the woman scrap that sketch.

"I want it form-fitting, black, silk." You begin listing adjectives that feel right.

"Tulle gloves? Fingerless?" The designer introjects.

"Yes, I love it. Not fingerless. Past the elbow. I want villainess, I want revenge."

"A revenge dress on the red carpet? I love my job." The artist begins sketching like mad and you watch your vision come to life on paper. It's perfect.

"You have two and a half weeks to get me fitted for this dress, is that okay? I'm sorry for the short notice." Your kindness goes a long way with this woman. She ensures you'll see your dress long before the deadline and you do, having a fitting only a few days over one and a half weeks later. The dress is everything you could've hoped for and after the alterations you're dressed to kill.

The night of the award show, your dress is perfectly fitted and your hair is styled intricately to match. A makeup artist finishes off your look and you stand to check yourself in the mirror. You look like your character stepped right out of the screen. A cold, heartless, murderous vixen, scorned too many times.

"Have you decided who you're walking with?" Your agent asks, concerned.

"I can't show up alone?"

"I'm afraid only the men can get away with that one unless you want prying eyes," she shrugs. You opt for calling Sebastian. You don't want to look like you're attempting to make Cooper jealous or hurt his feelings and you know all your actress co-stars already have dates and escorts. He graciously agrees, happy to know his two pals have opted for the high road.

"Well, let's get you on that carpet," Verna escorts you to your limo where Sebastian waits. The ride to the event makes you nauseous with anxiety, but you're not sure why. It's not like this is new to you anymore.

You make a grand entrance, on your co-star's arm, causing you to be bombarded with inaudible questions and blinding camera flashes. Sebastian separates from you for his own photo op. You give them various sultry poses, looking over your shoulder, and placing your hands on your hips. Your face remains stone, emotionless. Your sharp makeup and flat expression make you look like a piece of art. You're melting into your character for the cameras when you hear someone yell that Cooper Howard just walked in.

A decent amount of the cameras that were shoved in your face migrate over to him. Time seems to slow down for one whole minute as the two of you lock eyes. Every emotion neither of you had any time to feel has come rushing back. You reach out to Sebastian for some sort of grounding. Cooper notices that you're on his best friend's arm and he knows it's to show no malice. He sees it for what it is, an olive branch.

"Wow, you really mastered that empty, yearning, hopeless, doomed-love expression!" A man behind a camera shouts at you. You'd thank him, only you weren't trying to make that expression, regardless of how on theme it is for Monae.

"Let's see Cooper and Y/N together again!" Another pap yells, prompting Cooper to join you where you stand against the backdrop. Sebastian reminds you that the show must go on, leaving your side so your ex-fling can replace him. Cooper pulls you into his embrace, keeping his eyes on the audience. After several flashes, they demand to "see the love." You pull Cooper into a tight hug, smooching him on the cheek, leaving a large lipstick mark. He's smart enough to know that while you didn't show up with intentional arm candy, this isn't his real welcome. It's all for the cameras.

Without much thought, Cooper, to keep up the charade, catches you off guard by planting an unsuspecting kiss on your lips. It shouldn't have affected you the way it did, but the moment he pulls away, you two finally get a look at each other. Sebastian and Verna seem to be locked into the slow motion of the moment as well as their eyes bulge out of their heads while they watch your face shift through emotions.

"You're the meanest man I know," you whisper, heartbroken, before running off the red carpet and into the nearest empty area. You do your best to find privacy before you let your tears ruin your makeup.

Back in the carpet, Cooper and Sebastian stare at each other in horror before Sebas finally speaks up.

"Oh, no! A wardrobe malfunction at an event like this is dreadful. I'm glad she was able to catch that," he announces, patting Cooper on the back. That story seems to sell just fine as the cameras move on to the next arriving star.

"What the fuck were you thinking, kid?" Verna appears before Cooper the second he gets inside the building.

"I wasn't! I thought a kiss would shut them up, I was trying to speed this whole thing up for her," he sighs.

"Where did she go?" Sebastian asks the raspy old woman.

"We don't know. She took off so quickly, I couldn't see where she went." The old woman mumbles something angry under her breath and returns to looking for you.

You're in a room not intended to be accessed during this event, but it wasn't locked, so who cares? You find the nearest seat and allow yourself to cry quietly into your gloves.

"What did I do to deserve this? My career is so fucked when this gets out, and what is he?" You rant aloud to no one.

"He's looking for you," Cooper answers your rhetorical question.

"No, he's fine. His career is fine. Everything for him is fine."

"What makes you think that? That I'm fine?" He sounds offended, frustrated.

"Well it was all just an act to you, wasn't it? I fell hard and it was just overtime for you."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he makes a sharp motion with his hand, angry and precise.

"I thought you felt the same and I'm utterly embarrassed now. I'm so embarrassed, I can only be angry. And I'm so heartbroken, I can only cry. It's unproductive." You pull a compact mirror from your clutch purse and begin fixing your makeup to the best of your ability. "I didn't want to be your on-set floozy."

"I didn't mean to embarrass you, Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't communicate what that night at the lounge was. I'm sorry I let you invite me inside your house. I swear, I thought you knew what we were doing. I thought the self-preservation thing was a shtick you were just really good at." Cooper takes a few steps closer to you. "I thought it was just fooling around, so I didn't want to get attached, but-"

"But what? Because this is all just kind of hurting my feelings again."

"But I did get attached. I did catch feelings. The night of that party, I was outside spilling my guts to Sebastian because he was the only person who would hear it."

"Cooper..."

"I'm not done." He puts a hand up. "I miss you. I've been pissed off every single day just because I can't talk to you. The minute I forget about you, it's like the wind blows a different way and I'm reminded of the way your hair catches in the breeze when you're in my car with the windows down."

"Cooper."

"I think about you every single day and I'm fucking livid with you for making me wait this long to get to say this to you." He inhales deeply. "I think I- I'm in love with you."

"That's... A little sappy, Cooper."

"Oh, come on." He drops his shoulders, defeated until he hears you start to chuckle.

"I guess I'm in love with you too," you admit.

"You guess?" He raises a brow, feigning offense.

"Would it have hurt this bad if I wasn't?" By now, Cooper's crossed the room. He answers your question by closing the gap between you and locking his lips with yours. It feels like breathing for the first time in months. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. You both missed this.

When you both finally rejoin the party, you're inseparable. Nothing in the world can knock the cheesy grins off your faces. Sebastian looks on proudly, standing next to Verna.

"Well, looks like I've lost my date," Sebastian laughs. "Shall we?" He offers Verna his arm and she laughs loudly before accepting.

You and Cooper quickly find yourselves in the position of Hollywood's favorite couple. It not only skyrockets your career, but his as well, seeing as your fan base from the theatre followed you over to film, and eventually, they found and adored Cooper. The next time either of you comes to a misunderstanding, you take Sebastian's advice. Make it understood.

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im-constantly-fangirling · 4 months

Text

Wandering Home

Summary: As a bartender, you know every single face in Jackson. When a grumpy but kind-at-heart traveler makes his way into the diner you work at, you can't help but be curious.

No Outbreak au!Joel Miller x afab!reader

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: cursing, slight reference of Parks and Rec towards the end, mentions of self harm (not reader), smut [dirty talk, praise and slight degradation kink, oral sex (f receiving), allusion to breeding kink, choking, dom-ish Joel]

Note on smut: If you don't want to read the smut, skip the scene in between the two *s!

Masterlist

Working at the diner in Jackson was no easy job.

It seemed that people had a borderline excessive appetite for alcohol- and they relied on you to fulfill it. You didn’t mind the work, as it numbed you the way a bottle could, but you supposed you could do without the yelling, obscene comments, and the general carelessness of the people who couldn’t really hold their liquor.

The one benefit you found with being a bartender was information. Every small town had its fair share of gossip, and Jackson definitely delivered. Travelers came and went, and those who stayed would alter Jackson’s social routine just a little bit. You were a town full of shattered pieces of what were once whole people, but those pieces of glass joined to make a stunning mosaic- no matter how jagged and uneven it was.

It was just another ordinary day when the door to the bar opened, revealing an unfamiliar face. A swift silence wafted through the bar before the man walked in and Tommy followed behind. A sigh of relief seemed to go through every one. The bar resumed its normal revelry.

You were cleaning a glass with a rag when Tommy and the man walked up to the bar. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my brother, Joel.”

You smiled at him, putting the glass down and flipping the rag over your shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Joel,” you greeted him. He didn't respond with more than a grunt and a nod, but you didn’t mind. He had dirt smudged over his face, his flannel shirt, his forearms. Scars adorned any amount of skin that showed. And those eyes…

Holding his gaze, you almost saw the emptiness behind them. As if he had nothing left in him. This was a man who had seen hell.

If Tommy noticed his brother’s grumpiness, he certainly didn’t care to comment on it. “Y/n’s the best bartender in town. If you treat her real nice, she might slip you a free drink or two,” he said, whispering the last part conspiratorily.

You chuckled, lightly smacking Tommy on the shoulder. “Don’t go around telling everyone, now,” you teased. “But since you’re Tommy’s brother, I’ll get you your first drink on the house. Any friend of Tommy’s is a friend of mine.”

Joel nodded gratefully- or you understood it to be gratefully- before clearing his throat. “I’ll just take the strongest whiskey you’ve got.” Even his voice was rough. You wondered if there was a single part of him that the world hadn’t taken away from him. “But don’t go making a habit out of giving me a free drink. I’d be more than happy to pay,” he declared while taking a seat. The soft southern lilt of his voice made you smile. It had been a while since you heard that accent.

Tommy sat on the bar stool and leaned his head in his hand. “And I’ll take some gin, please.”

You turned around, letting the brothers get reacquainted while you served them their drinks. Their voices got drowned out by the laughter in the bar- but every now and then, when business was slow, you’d quietly make your way over to their side of the bar.

“-she’s everything to me, Tommy. I’ll take some of her shifts. After everything she’s gone through, she deserves to just relax,” you heard Joel say.

Huh, you wondered. Didn’t peg him for the married type. You couldn’t deny your disappointment, but you couldn’t stop smiling lightly. The grumpy man had a soft spot. It was odd but endearing to watch his eyebrows round out at the edges.

Tommy lightly hummed. “As long as the work gets done, I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” He paused. “Just…be careful, Joel. People around here are really close knit. You don’t want to go around pissing people off by being all-”

“Pissy?” Joel finished, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Look, I don’t plan on staying long, anyway. I’ll get out of your hair-”

“Ma’am, can I get another?” you heard a man’s voice call out. He was almost slumped against the bar, his hand held up limply in the air. Great, you thought. Just what I needed to end rush hour.

You wiped the back of your hand against your forehead. “Bill, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you trailed off.

Bill didn’t seem to like that answer, and you felt your heart start speeding up. “Just give me one more! I wasn’t fucking asking,” his voice slurred, echoing throughout the bar. It was as if he sucked the life right out of the building. No one moved.

You stared at Bill, your eyes hardening. “This happens every week, Bill. Aren’t you sick of this little tradition we have going on? Cause I am.” You put your hands together into a fist and leaned against the bar, letting your face get close to Bill’s. “You reek of piss and you’re acting like a lazy bum. How about you go back home and sleep the alcohol off before you get dragged out?”

Bill’s sweaty hands grab your arm. “What the fuck did you say?”

You felt your palms start sweating. “Bill,” you said calmly. “Get a hold of yourself, okay? You don’t gotta be like this.” Even with all your bravado, you didn’t love the idea of Bill’s anger being directed solely toward you. He was a 210 pound, six foot tall man. You knew how to pick your battles.

Bill growled loudly at you, spit flying from his mouth, making your face scrunch up with disgust. At the sound of his growl, several other townspeople stood up from their chairs, getting ready to intervene if needed. You saw them all slightly leaning forward, as if they’d run for Bill the second he stepped out of line.

One of Bill’s hands let go of your arm in favor of roughly grabbing your chin. You closed your eyes and tried turning away from his grip, but his alcohol ridden mind had no semblance of propriety, and he held your chin and cheeks in a vice like grip. “Listen here, you insolent-”

“Hey!” another voice boomed. It was rough, like the feeling of the tough boar bristles on your hair comb. Joel. “Don’t touch her!”

“Joel, she’s got this,” you heard Tommy say quietly. “You can’t go around making enemies on your first day.”

“Fucking hell, ”Joel grumbled at his brother. He stood up from his bar stool and walked over to where Bill was hunched over the counter, squeezing your chin as if he wouldn’t rest until the blood flow stopped. “Are you going to let go, or am I going to have to make you?”

Bill sneered at Joel. “I’ll do whatever I damn well like! Who the fuck even are you?”

Joel glared at him before roughly tearing Bill’s hands off of you. “Who the fuck are you to hurt the woman who’s been putting up with your shit for god knows how long?”

You glanced at Tommy with worry. He seemed to understand your silent plea because he got up and placed a secure hand on his brother’s shoulder. “How about I take Bill home, alright Joel?”

Joel kept glaring at Bill, as if he was putting a large amount of self-control into not teaching Bill a lesson, but he ultimately huffed lightly and moved out of Tommy’s way. Tommy put an arm around Bill’s shoulder, pushing him straight out of the bar, saying “Come on, Bill, you know Mary’s probably worried sick about ya.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Poor Mary.

Joel, to your surprise, didn’t accompany his brother to escort Bill back home. Instead, after watching the pair leave the bar and shut the double doors, he simply turned around to face you. “I’m uh,” he paused, scratching at his face. “I’m sorry about all the fuss. Just didn’t wanna see him disrespect you.”

You stroked the place where Bill had a vice grip on your arms, hoping that it wouldn’t bruise the next day. “I’m very grateful, Joel,” you said, smiling. “And I know you didn’t make a friend out of Bill, but I hope you know you made a friend out of me.”

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel quickly became a regular at your diner, but he never ordered any food. He’d walk in through the doors and walk directly towards the bar, planting himself in the same barstool and drinking the same whiskey. You never really minded. He always treated you with respect, made good on his promise to pay for every drink going forward, and occasionally stepped in to help you when a townsperson got a little too drunk.

Neither of you talked much, but you quietly learned things about each other. You noticed his wardrobe seemed to consist solely of different colored flannels and jeans. He spoke in a variety of intricate grunts, ranging from “hey” to “thank you.” Truly, Joel was a verbally gifted man.

Tonight wasn’t anything different. The diner was quite barren, with just a few people sitting amongst the tables, eating with close friends and family. The clink of the alcohol bottles was coupled with soft chuckles and the scraping of forks against ceramic plates.

Joel was sitting towards the left side of the bar, leaning against the stool he always inhabited. “Hey,” he said. “Can I-”

You smiled at him, your hands leaning against the countertop. “-get a whiskey? Surely we can skip the pleasantries now, Miller,” you jested lightly. Turning around, you grabbed Joel’s favorite whiskey and a glass. “How’s Jackson treating you?”

Joel grunted, and you expected that to be the end of your discussion, as it usually was every night. But instead, while you poured out a generous amount of whiskey, you heard Joel’s rough voice say, “It’s been pretty good.”

You handed him the glass. “I’m glad you like it here. I know we’re a small town, but we’re not so bad once you get used to us.” You took out your rag and started wiping down the counter.

Joel sipped his whiskey, his red flannel pulling open a little to reveal his grey shirt underneath. You couldn’t help drifting your eyes toward his chest, but the second you caught yourself you went back to gazing at the counter, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He’s married, you thought to yourself, angrily. Behave.

Although there’s nothing wrong with accidentally looking, I guess.

He set down his glass on the counter and let out a little sigh. “Y’all definitely get a lotta snow.”

You chuckled, leaving your rag on the counter for a moment. “Yeah, it took me a while to get used to. Us southern folk just aren’t made for this type of cold.”

Joel’s eyebrow lifted slightly, intrigued. “You from the south?”

“I’m from Texas,” you revealed. “Life just forced me up north, but nothing quite feels like Texas.”

He slightly smiled, and you were almost shocked. Not once in these last few weeks did you see Joel smile, and you were confused as to why he would hide such a beautiful sight from the world. It was like the troubles of life lifted off his shoulders for just a moment, and you saw the Joel that could have been. “I’m from Texas, too. Austin.”

“No kidding,” you sighed. “You don’t see a lot of us this far north. It’s a shame. I’ve never met a friendlier group of people than down there,” you said wistfully.

Joel took another sip of his whiskey. “Well, one day you gotta go back down there. Not that I mind Jackson, but-”

“Heya,” a voice interrupted Joel. You turned to see Adelaide, your neighbor, sitting in a barstool to your right. She looked like she had just come off of work, as she was still wearing a sweater with her teacher name tag clipped near her left breast. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

You smiled and shook your head. “It’s okay, Addie. Can I get you anything? You don’t usually get outta school this late.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Joel had gone back to sipping at his whiskey and staring at the wall of bottles behind the bar, as he normally did when he came to visit. A small pit of disappointment stayed in your stomach. You had just gotten him to talk.

Addie sighed, twirling her brown hair around her finger. “I wanted to get ahead on grading cause the end of the school year is coming up,” she said. “And god knows I need more time to deal with all that work.”

You put your hand on hers, tilting your head. “You need to rest, Addie. You can’t keep working yourself to the bone.”

Addie waved her hand in a dismissive motion, scoffing. “I’m fine, don’t you worry. The work is distracting.”

You raised your right eyebrow. “Distracting from what?” you asked, pulling your hand back.

She leaned forward, some of her hair fanning out in front of her shoulders. “He cheated, y/n. He cheated, and then he left me, and I don’t wanna think about it more than I have to.”

Your jaw dropped, anger settling into your heart. “How could he? What’s wrong with him?”

Addie leaned back into her barstool, a stoic set to her jaw. “Apparently, Jace had even less of a brain than I gave him credit for. And do you know who he cheated on me with?” She paused. “Bill's wife Mary.”

Joel choked on his whiskey, spilling some onto the counter, and both you and Addie turned toward him. He looked nervous, ready to be faced with a barrage of insults for eavesdropping on your conversation, but Addie pointed at him and said, “Exactly! I had the same reaction!”

You chuckled, turning towards Joel apologetically. “I can get you another glass if you want, Miller. On the house.”

Joel grumbled and shook his head. “I told ya, I’m not gonna make a habit out of this free drink thing.”

You put your hands on your hips and sighed. “Well, think of it as a bribe for your secrecy. You’ve stumbled upon sacred gossip, Miller.” You turned towards Addie. “Don’t we need to buy his silence?”

Addie nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, of course. The whole town is going to be in over my head if we don’t keep this quiet.”

You turned back to Joel, looking at him pointedly. “So?” you questioned. “Do you accept our proposition?”

Joel let a small smile slip back onto his face again, and he nodded. “In the name of the greater good, I accept.” You beamed, grabbing his glass and filling it. Behind you, you heard Joel turn to Addie, saying, “For what it’s worth, Jace sounds like a dick.”

“He is,” Addie replied, matter-of-factly.

You turned around and handed Joel another glass of whiskey before sighing. “Well,” you started. “I’m officially done for the day.”

Joel gulped his whiskey and stood up. “I’ll walk you home.”

You felt a lightness in your chest warm you up more than the fireplace in the diner. “It’s okay. I’ve got Addie with me.”

Addie slapped your hand lightly, and when you looked at her with confusion she simply looked back at you pointedly. “Well, it’s pretty dark out, so it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else with us.”

“I just wouldn’t want to bother you, Joel,” you said softly.

Joel grumbled. “Nonsense. Consider it repayment for the first free drink.”

“Oh, alright,” you relented. “Let me just grab my bag.”

It was almost funny to watch a man as rough and scarred as Joel walk through town with two chattering, gossiping women. He was silent for the whole walk, but you knew he was listening intently. He’d shake his head with disappointment when Addie talked about Jace’s affair, and the anger and judgement that Jace had when Addie finally confronted him. You couldn’t help but smile when his body gave away his thoughts.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel’s eyes would occasionally flutter towards you, watching your face contort in between expressions of disbelief and annoyance at Jace. He held back a smile. There was something about how much you cared, how invested you were, that just made you such a warm, firey person. It was as if you could melt the snow falling on Jackson with merely your presence.

Joel had never liked the snow. Whenever it was cold outside, he found himself huddled near the fire.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

You were somewhat surprised when Joel stayed until the diner was closing and then offered to walk you home again.

“Joel,” you muttered. “You’ve already repaid me for the free drink with that one walk. And I’d really rather not bother you.

“You aren’t bothering me, sweetheart. If anything, consider this walk a repayment from you for me stopping Bill.” Joel put down his glass of whiskey, and you grabbed it to quickly wipe it down. “I could use the walk anyway. Ellie, my daughter,” he began, with a slight break in his voice. “She’s been coming back home a little later than I’m used to, and I’d rather not sit in my rocking chair on the porch waiting for her.”

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you had a daughter,” you said, grabbing your bag from underneath the bar cabinet. “How old is she?” you questioned while walking out from behind the counter.

“She’s a 14-year-old little rug rat, my Elllie,” he said, walking next to you as you both made your way out of the diner.

The cold, frigid air of Jackson hit the both of you. Small clouds of fog form in front of your nose and mouth as you make slightly ragged breaths, walking uphill on a path through Jackson. Your cabin wasn’t more than a five-minute walk from the diner, but it was still nestled away from the town center enough to have some semblance of privacy.

You laughed at the idea of Joel with a teenage daughter. “You should bring her around the diner. I don’t mind convincing the cook to slip Ellie a few snacks. I don’t want to brag or anything, but Allysa loves me and I’m sure it wouldn’t be much of a bother.”

Joel crossed his arms and shivered slightly. “I’ll tell her. She’d love to meet you. She’s a little chirpier than I am, so you’d both get along great.”

You took a glance at him. He had his eyes trained on the snow covered path, a slight frown on his face. You were overcome with the urge to say anything to wipe that frown off his face, to replace it with a smile, or even his usual flat lined mouth. “Aw, Miller. You’re not so bad.”

Joel smirked. “That’s high praise, sweetheart.”

Your heart fluttered slightly, and you tried your hardest to ignore it. “So. Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Huh?” Joel looked up at you, confused. “Oh. There’s none. I practically adopted Ellie, although Tommy insists she adopted me. But whatever way you wanna see it, no woman was involved in the process.” He paused. “I mean, other than Ellie herself, but to me she’s just a little girl-”

You interrupted him with your laughter. It was so strong you crossed your free hand under your stomach, trying to contain yourself. “Sorry,” you said through your laughter. “I just never thought I’d see you ramble like that.” Not married, huh.

Even in the dark, you could see Joel blush. He wiped his finger on the bridge of his door, looking down with nervousness. “Well, don’t go around tellin’ everyone. I kinda like being the grumpy traveler.”

“You’re such a softie, Miller.”

Both you and Joel stopped in front of the steps that led to your front porch. You had garden beds lining the front wall, but the snow had killed the plants that had taken root in the dirt. It was one of the few things you hated about Jackson; you had to say goodbye to your plants every nine months. Few pretty flowers survived the winter.

Joel sighed, a large cloud of breath forming in front of his face and dissipating as soon as it came. “So,” he said, rocking on his heels. “See you tomorrow?”

You smiled. “I’ll have your whiskey ready, Miller.”

Neither of you moved. The wind blew, making you both shiver slightly, and you started climbing up the steps to your porch. “Actually, do you want to come inside?” you asked. “I could put on a cup of hot tea that you could walk back with. And I probably have one of my dad’s coats you could borrow.”

Behind you, you heard Joel’s shoes making patterns in the snow. “I guess Ellie won’t be back for a while still.” The wood of your front porch steps creaked along with the smile on your face. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy but soft, smelling of whiskey and pine and a hint of smoke. The fast beat of your heart echoed in your ears.

You grabbed your keys from your bag with shaky hands and opened your front door. Both you and Joel walked in, stomping off the snow that accumulated on your boots onto the welcome mat. “Sorry if it’s messy,” you say, flipping on the light switch. “I wasn’t planning for company.”

Joel grunted, walking past you to take in the living room. It wasn’t much, but you liked to think you filled your cabin some life.

There, in the center of the room, was a worn couch that had resided in your parent’s house before you moved out here. In front of the couch was the coffee table you’d painstakingly made by chopping the wood and making it from scratch. The dining table and chairs had been taken from Addie’s cabin after she obtained a better table. It wasn’t picturesque; it was bits and pieces of your life throughout the decades. A mosaic, just like Jackson.

“You’re welcome to sit,” you said, throwing your bag onto the corner of your couch as you did every day. “I’ll just put some tea on.”

Walking towards the far end of the living room, where the kitchen resided, you picked up your kettle and filled it with water. Joel sat on the couch, stroking the worn cloth. “It’s a pretty old couch,” he remarked quietly.

You chuckled while turning on the stove. “It used to be in my parent’s house,” you said. “He gifted it to me a long time ago.”

“Thank you, by the way,” said Joel. “For the tea. You didn’t really have to.”

“Come on, Miller. I’ve been serving you some kind of drink every day now. It’s our thing,” you teased. You were pleased when he laughed heartily. He’s more himself when we’re alone, you noted. I like it.

You both let yourself sit in silence, waiting for the kettle to whistle. As you made some peppermint tea- the only kind you had at the moment- your eyes kept flickering over to Joel. He kept noticing little tidbits throughout your living room.

His fingers stroked the stitched cut on the couch with an amused smirk on his face. “How’d this happen?”

“I think I was seven? I was really into knitting, but I overestimated how much damage a knitting needle could do. I think I got mad that I kept fucking up, and I just stabbed the couch.” You laughed. “My dad took one look at it and chuckled. He said it was cute how much I cared.”

You brought the mugs of tea over to the coffee table, setting them down. “I hope it’s not too bad. Serving alcohol doesn’t involve a lot of steps.”

Joel chuckled. “I can imagine you with knitting needles, just throwing a little mini tantrum over a blanket.”

You rolled your eyes. “Now I hope that tea is shitty.” You sat down on the couch, sitting right next to Joel even though there was ample room next to you. “And, for your information, I’m pretty good at knitting. That blanket right here,” you said, pointing to the blanket haphazardly laid on the arm of your couch, “is purely a y/n production.”

Joel touched the blanket with his fingers, poking at the small holes. “You did a good job,” he said. Something in your stomach stirred at the praise, but you carefully tucked it away. No need to get any hopes up, you thought.

Humming, you picked up your mug and blew at the tea slightly. “Thanks, Miller.”

“Why do you call me Miller?” Joel asked. “Why don’t you call me Joel?”

You tilted your head. He noticed. “I call you Joel sometimes.” I didn’t know he’d notice things about me.

He waved his hand dismissively. “You’ve called me Joel exactly twice.”

You didn’t know to tell him that calling him his first name felt like an intimate gesture to you, how you couldn’t imagine saying his name without the weight in your heart you felt every time he came into the diner. With every second he spent near you, that weight grew slowly but surely, and you didn’t know what to do with it.

You thought he was married. Turns out he’s not. That weight in your heart starts feeling more like it belongs there, replacing the initial shame you felt for your soft spot. Shame that you tried to overcome by calling him Miller.

How do you tell a man that?

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I call Tommy, Miller too. I guess I figured the tradition should continue between brothers? I really don’t know.”

Joel looked at you, his brown eyes looking like a cloudy river. You so desperately wanted to see through to the bottom. “Call me Joel when it’s just us,” he said.

You took a sip of your tea. “Of course, Joel.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, reaching for his mug. “Look at us, getting along. And Tommy said I couldn’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled before you remembered the time. “Oh my god. I was supposed to grab you a coat.” You stood up quickly, walking to the wardrobe behind your dining table, muttering, “I’d hate for you to miss Ellie coming home.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, there’s no reason to worry. I live two minutes away, I’ll be fine,” Joel said from the couch in a reassuring voice. It was as if his rough voice smoothed slightly around the edges. He spoke in long, legato lines instead of his regular staccato responses, and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped your mouth as you hunted for your dad’s coat.

“Still, Joel,” you said, reveling in the privilege of saying his name. “Ellie comes first.” You grabbed your dad’s wool coat and folded it over your arm, bringing it to Joel. “You can keep this if you want,” you told him. “I never really have a use for it.”

You felt the warmth of Joel’s hand against your arm for just a moment as he grabbed the coat from you. You barely heard him saying “thank you.” It was as if his voice had been muddled by some kind of blurry screen.

Your brain turns into a crush-riddled caveman. Warm, you think. Rough. But gentle.

“No problem,” you say hoarsely. “Anything for you, Joel.”

As he leaves, you let the shape of his name coat your lips, playing with it in your cheek, letting it take its place.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

“Is your name y/n?” you hear a young voice ask behind you.

You spin around, eyeing the young girl with confusion. “Yeah, what can I do for you?” You smoothed down your shirt.

The young girl broke out into a smile and pointed at herself. “My name’s Ellie. Joel told me to stop by.”

You broke out into a smile, extending a hand out over the bar countertop. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie.” She shook your hand enthusiastically, smiling from ear to ear. “Let me go back and tell the cook to make you some food. She’s making some tomato and mozzarella sandwiches right now, is that okay?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” she said. “I’ll take anything.”

You chuckled. “Your dad was right, you’re one chipper girl.”

She seemed to take pause. “He called me his daughter?”

Rambling, you shook your head frantically out of nervousness. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that it wasn’t-” Oh god, I ruined everything.

“No, you’re good, don’t worry. I just…” she trailed out. “He’s not a man of many words, ya know? I mean I’m sure you know- he doesn’t exactly scream ‘literate,’ but still. I know he cares, but sometimes it’s nice to hear it.”

You grinned, relieved. Reaching out to touch her shoulder lightly, you reassured her, saying “Aw, honey, Joel loves you more than anything. It’s so obvious to everyone that it’s insane. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, alright?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. You told her you’d disappear for a second to tell Allysa to set aside an extra sandwich, and when you made it back, Ellie was sitting at the bar, leaning her head in her hands, staring at the alcohol bottles. Like father, like daughter, you supposed.

“The sandwich should be out soon, alright honey?” you said gently.

“Are you from Texas too? You sound a little like Joel,” Ellie joked.

You nodded. “I’m from San Antonio,” you revealed. “Actually, I wasn’t too far from where your old man Miller grew up. Maybe an hour's drive? I’m not sure anymore, it’s been a while since I was there.”

Allyssa brought out Ellie’s sandwich, setting it on the bar countertop. “Enjoy it, alright sweetie?” she said to Ellie. “I put a little extra cheese on yours.”

Ellie said thank you and dug into her sandwich, but unlike her father, she kept the conversation going. “I’ve been tryna convince Joel to go back to Austin, but he turns into this pain in the ass whenever I bring it up,” she said. “I’ll get him to go there eventually. If I annoy him enough, he caves.”

You chuckle. “Why doesn’t he wanna go? It seems like he misses it.”

“He’s had a hard life,” Ellie said protectively. “He’s been through some shit in Austin. I guess he just doesn’t wanna visit it again.”

You hummed. “I get that,” you said, sighing. “Anyway. How long are y’all staying in Jackson?”

Ellie shrugged. “It was supposed to be a few days, but I really like it here. There’s only so much traveling you can do before you get sick of not having a home, you know? Besides, I don’t think Joel wants to leave either.” She took another bite of her sandwich. “He keeps saying he’s gonna leave but he doesn’t pull the trigger,” she said, her voice muffled with her sandwich.

You reached under the bar cabinet and wordlessly handed her a napkin, which she took graciously. “I told him he’d get sucked into Jackson. It’s too cozy.”

“It really is. I’ve made friends! I went to go study with one of them the other night,” Ellie said, practically jumping up and down. “I hope Joel never wants to leave.”

Me too, you thought.

You and Ellie kept talking about her life in Jackson, her school, the hobbies she’s picked up. You chuckled when she told you that she picked up archery. “I really like pointy things,” she said. “Bonus if they can kill someone.”

You laughed. “When I was your age, I was obsessed with fencing. My dad signed me up for a class and everything, even though my mom said no. He’d take me in secret. He told me he was proud that if someone broke into the house, his daughter could protect him,” you told Ellie, laughing lightly. “He’d love you.”

“He sounds fucking awesome,” Ellie remarked.

He was, you thought.

The joy in her eyes filled with more warmth than you thought possible. You had the urge to stroke her cheek, get her more food, and walk her home- anything to keep those eyes full of light.

While Ellie was pattering about an embarrassing story of her and Joel on the road, she brushed some crumbs off of her fingers onto the plate. Your eyes involuntarily flickered down to the movement. You saw a few, parallel, thin scars underneath her wrist, just barely covered by the fold of her elbow. Something in your heart tightened to the point of pain, and you couldn’t bear to look Ellie in the eye for a little while.

You found yourself looking down at the bar counter, hoping Ellie didn’t notice what you’d just observed. Counting the number of scars, you branded the number in your mind. Nine.

You’d go insane if you found a tenth in the future.

Keeping up a normal pretense, you both chatted until the lunch rush hour entered, prompting Ellie to push her plate towards you and stand. “I should probably head out and let you get back to your job,” she said. “But we should do this again.”

You grinned from ear to ear. “You’re welcome anytime, honey.” You lightly grabbed her hand with both of yours. “Be careful with archery, okay? I don’t wanna see any major injuries,” you said, a slight motherly tilt in your voice.

Ellie put her other hand around yours and squeezed lightly. “I won’t, I promise.”

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel stopped by the diner a few days later. He came in later than usual- almost five minutes before closing- and sat down in his barstool, panting lightly as he sat.

You had been wiping down the counter when his presence made itself known. “Are you okay, Joel?” you asked. “Let me get you a glass of water.” You were grateful that the diner was completely barren, with even Allysa having gone home, leaving just you and Joel in the space. Your heart would have broken if Joel was seen in such a vulnerable state by people who didn’t understand him.

Please let me help, you thought. Don’t be all tough around me.

Pouring him an ice-cold glass of water, you decided to walk around the counter and sit next to him instead of your usual position. “Joel?” you questioned him again.

He didn’t respond, opting to gulp down the whole glass of water. “Just gimme a minute.”

You nodded. Joel was shaking slightly, and you slowly decided to stroke his arm gently- up and down, feeling the wrinkles that formed on his flannel from the motion. Under different circumstances, you might have lept with glee at the realization that Joel didn’t move when you touched him; in fact, he leaned into your hand. “You’re okay, Joel,” you reminded him. “I’m here.” You kept repeating reassuring phrases as he calmed himself down.

Eventually, he put his hand over yours, stopping it from its repetitive motion. “M’sorry,” he said. Before you could interrupt him to insist that there was nothing to be sorry about, he continued on. “Just had to come see you.”

You reached out to touch the area between his shoulder and his neck lightly. “Please don’t be sorry. I’d rather see you in front of me than know that this happens when I can’t help.”

Joel’s head hung down low and he groaned, seeming tired from his day’s events. “I just don’t wanna be a bother, but nothing else was helping.”

You toed with the intimate line between the two of you, desperately wanting to outright cross it but refusing to do so without his indication. It was frustrating, this dance. But the last thing you wanted Joel to feel around you was uncomfortable, so instead of cupping his cheek the way your fingers were itching to, you simply moved your hands down and gripped his hands lightly. “You’re not a bother, Joel. You’re never a bother. You’re practically the highlight of my day.” You paused. “Is that what this is about? Do you think I- sorry we- don’t want you?”

Joel tilted his head. “Part of it, I guess.” He sighed heavily. “Is it okay if we go back to your place? Ellie’s got a slumber party so I don’t really got anyone waitin’ on me.” He wiped his face. “Only if you wanna, of course,” he added, rushed.

“Nonsense, Joel. You’re always welcome over.” And with that, you both set out on your daily walk- except this time no words were exchanged.

You’d glance over to the man next to you, your heart dropping whenever he moved out of the ordinary. He scratched his beard. Beat. He cracked his knuckles. Beat. He almost tripped. Beat. Such a contrast to the careful, meticulously observant man you had come to know.

“Joel,” you whispered to him when you’d arrived in front of your porch. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

You both walked inside, and Joel immediately walked over and slumped onto your couch. “Today’s my daughter’s birthday,” he revealed.

“Oh,” you said, confused. “I didn’t know it was Ellie’s birthday.”

Joel shook his head. “My other daughter. Sarah.”

You made your way next to Joel, sensing the sensitive subject he was going to reveal to you. “What happened with Sarah?”

Joel’s eyes closed, and he leaned his head back, his eyelids scrunched in a phantom pain you wish you could’ve waived away with your hands. “She passed away, a few years back. Drunk driving accident.” He breathed deeply. “It’s why I ended up here, I guess. Just couldn’t bear to go back home when she- she,” his voice broke.

Fuck the line between us, you thought. You engulfed him in a hug, his large frame serving as a strong structure for you to lay your head against. “It’s okay,” you said lightly. “You don’t have to finish that sentence.”

He’s shaking, you noticed with tears lining your eyes. My Joel is shaking.

“She was everything to me. She was the only thing that mattered to me before Ellie, y’know? I’d do anything just to see her smile again,” he revealed. “Anything.”

You let a tear fall, staining Joel’s flannel a deep, dark color. “I’m so sorry, Joel.” You stroked his back over and over again, letting Joel rest against you.

“I kept wandering from city to city, afterward,” he revealed. “Didn’t really stay for longer than a week. And then I met Ellie. Her parents threw her out and she had nowhere to go. She’s so much like Sarah that it scared me, and I gave Ellie a bit of a hard time cause of it.” He took in a breath. “They’re both pieces of my soul, Sarah and Ellie. I’m like half a man.”

His head moved to the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his deep breaths against your skin. Greedily, you let your hand drift to his hair, toying with it lightly. “Take your time, Joel,” you whispered. “I’m here.”

Joel hummed against your neck, and you felt the vibrations leave goosebumps in their wake. “Thank you,” he said. “For being here.”

You didn’t know how to tell him that it was a privilege to hold him up, so you simply left a light kiss on his temple. “I know how you feel, a little,” you revealed. “My dad died a few years ago. Lung cancer. It felt like I’d lost a part of me.” You took in a deep breath. “Sometimes I still feel like he’s around, kind of like a phantom limb that I can’t use. It honestly hurts more when that happens. It just reminds me of all the love that I lost.

“But then I remember that losing that love just meant I had it at some point in my life. I had the best father the world could have ever given me. He made me who I am, and I try to remember that. Sarah had so much love in her life,” you said, placing a gentle palm against the side of his face. “She had you. You did for her what my father did for me. I know it’s not much, and nothing can bring her back, but even if this means nothing, you need to know that she loved you more than I can possibly express.”

You felt cold, wet circles fall onto your neck like the light pitter-patter of rain. Kissing Joel’s temple again, you whispered, “She made you who you are. That’s more evidence that she’ll always be with you.”

You heard Joel whimper lightly before the floodgates opened. “Oh, baby,” you said sympathetically. “Let it out. Let it all out.”

You and Joel sat there on the couch, lumped together in a tight embrace, for what felt like hours. And, when Joel had finally let out every tear that he had in him, he finally lifted his head out of the crevice between your neck and shoulder and looked at you with his puffy eyes.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Joel said, his voice slightly nasally. “I didn’t mean to-”

“If you complete that sentence, I’ll slap you so hard you’ll see stars, alright? That’s what friends are for,” you told him, internally cringing at the word friends.

Joel’s head tilted. “Friends?” he asked. “I don’t know if friends do what we do, sweetheart.”

You were suddenly very aware that almost every part of yours and Joel’s upper bodies were practically glued together. You were looking up at him, your breath bouncing off of Joel’s chin, his scruff occasionally tickling your cheekbone when one of you moved slightly.

You hesitated. After what Joel had just told you, was tonight really the best time to toe the line? “Joel, I don’t want to do anything you’d regret. Not when you’re in this state of mind.”

He nodded, understanding. “I’d agree with you if I hadn’t felt like this for weeks,” he said. “It’s hard for me to not feel like this, not when I hear Ellie raving about you after she visited. Not when you look as breathtaking as you did that first day that I saw you, serving me a glass of free whiskey like I was worth a damn.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “I’ve done nothing for you, absolutely nothing, and yet you’ve given me everything you can. You laugh at my jokes even when they’re not funny, you make me tea just so I don’t walk home cold.”

Joel sighed, his breath hugging your face in a warm blanket. “All these weeks, I came every day just to see you. It infuriated me sometimes, knowing that you had no idea the effect you had on me. As if you didn’t know how my eyes were practically glued to you when you weren’t looking.”

Your eyes closed. “Look at me,” he urged. You pulled back, looking him in the eye. “Do you really think I don’t like you? The only thing keeping me in Jackson is you.”

You looked down at yours and Joel’s now joined hands. “Joel…”

“Sweetheart,” he echoed.

You looked back up at him. “I don’t know what to say.”

Joel’s palm moved up to cup your face. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Every reason why Joel shouldn’t be with you flashed through your mind. You’re too clingy. You talk too much. You freak out over small things. You don’t know how to let things go. You’ll burden him. You’ll force him to stay where there’s snow, even though he hates it.

But when you look at Joel, a selfish part of you doesn’t care. You don’t care that this could blow up in your face, the way every other relationship of yours had.

“Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself before you let your lips touch Joel’s. His hand comes to the back of your head, locking you in place while he patiently explores the curve of your lips, the slight noise you make when he really focuses on your lower lip. Your hands make their way around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. More, more, more, you thought.

You pull apart but neither of you stray far, with Joel’s forehead leaning against yours. “Still think we’re just friends, sweetheart?” he asked you.

Chuckling, you left a peck on his lips. “The bestest friends.”

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel didn’t leave your cabin that night, instead opting to sleep on the couch with your knitted blanket. You protested heavily, insisting that there was space in your bed for him to rest, but he met every single plea with a simple answer: “I’m a little old-fashioned, sweetheart.”

Awaking the next morning, you smiled before pulling away your blankets faster than you ever had before so you could greet the man resting on your couch downstairs. You expected to find a man-shaped lump on your couch, but instead, you were greeted with the smell of pancakes and eggs, and the slightly chaotic sounds that was Joel Miller attempting to cook.

You chuckled lightly to yourself. Who thought this rugged man would wake up early to make pancakes? you thought. “Good morning, Joel.”

Joel turned around from the stove, clad in an unbuttoned red flannel and jeans. He looked picturesque in this light, the morning rays of sunshine hitting his skin just right. His hair looked a shade lighter than usual through the sunlight. You let your eyes wander to his chest, going lower, and lower, and-

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind me fiddling around here. Just wanted to make you breakfast as a thank you for last night.”

Walking towards Joel, you crossed your arms. “What did I say about that? There’s no reason to thank me, and there’s no reason to say sorry.” You paused only to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him. Joel’s arms snaked around your waist tightly. If you never moved from this position, you’d consider it an upgrade from your life. “But, since I like pancakes, I’ll overlook it just this once.”

Joel chuckled and grinned. “Aren’t you selfless,” he murmured, bringing his face closer to yours.

“Hmm, I am-”

Joel stopped you from finishing your sentence with his lips, softly caressing your tongue with his. Unlike last night, he took his time when kissing you, moving in slow, languid movements- like he had all the time in the world, or if he didn’t have time then he just didn’t care.

He pulled away and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a small intake of breath. Joel smirked. “So is this what gets you to stop talking, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and slapped his shoulder. “So you want me to stop talking?” you asked him, jest in your voice.

Joel tilted his head and let out a light chuckle, his scruff scratching your forehead with the movement. “You know I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” you said, slight reverence in your voice.

Joel let you go, grabbing the spatula he’d taken out of your drawer and he went to flip a pancake that lay on your pan. “I hope you like chocolate chip. It’s Ellie’s favorite.”

You hugged Joel from behind. “I’d love that, Joel.”

And so you spent breakfast with Joel, eating chocolate chip pancakes at your dining table like you were kids again. For the first time in a while, you let yourself drench your pancakes in maple syrup. You and Joel chatted about your lives: Joel about his trip from Austin to Jackson, the weird errands he’d run to earn money fast- and you about life after your father’s death, how you decided you’d live in a small town full of snow purely because your father despised the sweltering hot weather of Texas.

You found it refreshing, that you and Joel could now talk freely. It was like that kiss last night had unlocked something in him. You found that you didn’t mind this change.

* (smut below)

Putting the dishes in the sink, Joel cleared his throat. “Do you have anywhere you need to be?”

You shook your head. “It’s my day off. Do you know when Ellie is going to be back home?”

“Oh, she won’t be back for a while. That little shit loves to push how long she can stay out.” Joel walked up to where you stood near the sink, rinsing the maple syrup patches off of your plates. “Which works out great for us.”

You grabbed Joel’s arms loosely with your hands, reveling in the feel of his muscles underneath his skin, the veins that would occasionally stick out on his skin. “It truly does,” you said slyly. “What are you planning, Miller?”

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your small frame towards his, and you gasped lightly at the feeling of your lower stomach being glued to his body. “Not much,” he murmured. He grabbed your chin with his fingers. “Nothing important.”

“Hmm, I’m sure,” you said, inching your face closer to his. “Joel?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flickered closed. “How flexible are you when it comes to being traditional?” you asked him, slightly breathless.

His lips brushed against yours as he answered, “Right now? Tradition is the last thing on my mind,” he said, punctuation his point by letting his hands wander to the patch of skin between your back and your ass. He placed a short, chaste kiss on your lips. “But I won’t do anything unless you say.”

Your breaths mingled with each other's, and you swore your heartbeat had never been faster. “Please,” you asked.

“Please what?” he retorted calmly.

You almost whined with disappointment. “You know what I’m asking, Joel.”

Joel pulled back a little, and you couldn’t stop the slight whine that left your mouth. “I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me.”

“Just fuck me,” you said breathlessly.

Joel smirked before grabbing your face and kissing you, a smile present on his lips the whole time. An arrogant smile. Damn that bastard.

He pulled away from your lips momentarily to began skimming your cheek, your jaw, your neck. He paid special attention there once he heard the obscene moan that left you when he sucked at just the right spot, leaving a bright reddish-purple mark in its place. “Joel,” you breathed.

“I love it when you say my name,” he whispered into your neck. “No one says it like you.” His hands started wandering to the bottom of your pajama shirt, slipping underneath to softly begin the upward climb to your breasts. “No bra, huh?” he questioned, palming your breast.

“Didn’t uh,” you started between gasps. “Didn’t think I needed one. Sorry if that was-” You were interrupted by Joel’s mouth on yours, sucking lightly on your lower lip making you moan loudly.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said. “I’d sooner shoot myself in the leg than tell you to wear a bra around me.”

You laughed, and he cupped your face with his other hand. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “So mine.” He went back to paying attention to your breasts, skimming his finger lightly over your hardened nipples. You saw the effect his exploration had on him; or, rather, felt the effect, as his crotch was pressing tightly against your stomach.

Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you topless in front of Joel. His hands froze, eyes skimming over your body. Feeling brave, you smirked and said, “You gonna do something, Miller?”

“Aren’t you mouthy,” he said, sarcasm evident in his voice. “I’ll take care of that soon.” With that, he guided you to your upstairs bedroom, throwing his flannel off on the way. You couldn’t help but admire the slight back muscles Joel had. There was almost no imperfection with this man.

When you reached your bedroom, Joel grabbed you by your shoulders and swiftly through you on your bed. Your cheap mattress squeaked lightly, and you laughed against your floral bedsheets. “I’ve thought about this so much,” he revealed, tearing down your shorts. He knelt on your floor, eye to eye with your panties, and you hoped there wasn’t a telltale dark spot on the fabric that would give away just how ready you were to fuck this man. “Ever since that first time I walked into the diner.”

You writhed slightly under his stare. “Joel, please just fuck me,” you begged lightly. “I’m not feeling very patient.”

You heard him chuckle and then felt his arm push down onto your lower stomach, keeping you in place. “But I am,” he said. He touched the center of your panties, forcing a gasp out of you. He chuckled again. “So needy.” He pulled your panties aside, finding you wet and glistening. Without warning, he licked a stripe up your pussy, making you let out a languid moan. “Best fucking breakfast I’ve had in years,” he proclaimed, pulling your panties off your legs.

Joel kneads your thighs as he continues licking and occasionally sucking at your clit, and you reveled in the filthy sounds made by your wetness. He lazily keeps stroking your pussy with his tongue, letting his tongue slowly explore every crevice and find every sensitive point that ushered out the loudest whines.

“Oh, god,” you sighed. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

He flicked his tongue against your clit over and over again, stopping only to suck and lick and hum into your pussy. The vibrations keep pushing you closer and closer to the edge. And then you felt his fingers lightly tracing your lips before he stuck one finger in, curling it rapidly. “More,” you begged. “Fuck, please Joel- Oh!”

He added in a second finger, curling them both against that sensitive spot inside you that made you see stars, all while his tongue played with your clit. It was almost too much, all the sensations combined, and you were glad that Joel still had a hand holding your stomach down because your back started arching. “I'm so close, oh god, keep going!”

Joel’s resolve never wavered. Your moans gave him more than enough fuel to keep curling, keep licking, keep pleasuring you to the point of tears. He opened his eyes and looked at you from between your legs, and the sinful sight of that beautiful man feasting on you sent you over the edge. His tongue helped you ride out your orgasm whilst you moaned and shook and said his name over and over, Joel, Joel, Joel!

When he finally lifted his head and started climbing over you, he had a wicked smile on his face. “You’re even prettier when you come apart on my tongue, sweetheart.” His rough voice caressed your body as he made his way up to kiss you. You could taste yourself on him, but that just spurred you on.

“It’s not fair that you’re still wearing pants,” you remarked.

“Then do something about it,” he replied. You smiled and let your hand slowly make its way down to his pants, lightly stroking his chest on the way down. You reached his zipper and palmed his cock through his trousers, making him hiss. “Don’t be a tease. I’ll make you regret it next time.”

“Oh,” you started. “So there’s going to be a next time? Someone’s confident,” you remarked while you unzipped his pants.

Joel stood up and kicked his pants off as fast as he could. “I’ll fuck that attitude out of you soon enough, sweetheart.”

You grinned. “I’m waiting.” You made your way towards the middle of your bed, making yourself comfortable amongst the pillows. Your mouth almost frothed at the sight before you: a naked Joel Miller, cock slapped against his stomach, girthy and slightly red with need.

“Someone’s staring,” Joel remarked, joining you on your bed.

“Do you blame me?” you asked. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he settled on top of you, his cock so close to where you needed him most. “You’re perfect.”

He cupped your face. “You’re one to talk,” he retorted. He shifted his hips slightly, groaning when some of your wetness got on the tip of his dick. “If I do anything you don’t like, just tap me three times on my arm, okay?” he said, sweetly. “And I’ll stop the second you do that.”

You nodded. “I trust you, Joel.”

He leaned down and kissed you, slowly, lovingly, softly. Such a contrast to how he handled you earlier. It almost made tears come to your eyes. This man, who looked so rough on the surface, had the softest heart you’d ever known.

Pulling away from your lips, he led his dick right to your entrance. “Now,” he said, jest in his voice. “Back to the fun stuff.” He slowly thrust into you, both of you gasping at the sensation. “Fuck, even your pussy is perfect,” he praised.

“Oh,” you moaned out when he bottomed out. He stayed there for a little, letting you adjust, but you could see the restraint it took in the way his body shook lightly. But you didn’t have much restraint either, and so you looked at him and said, “Fuck me like you mean it, Miller.”

You saw the gleam in his eyes and then it was over for you. He set a harsh, fast pace, the sound of your thighs slapping together filling your room along with your moans and his groans. “Such a good girl for me,” he said, punctuating each word with a thrust. “So fucking good.”

He pulled out only to move you slightly on your side and then lift your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to spread you out even more than before. He pushed in and you almost screamed with pleasure. “Fuck,” you moaned, trailing out the word. Joel cut you off by grabbing your neck with his hand, applying slight pressure, and choking you.

“There we go,” he cooed, thrusting into you hard. “See? See how it works out for you when you don’t give me attitude?” You interrupted him with a loud moan. “Such a beautiful, fucked out little slut.”

“I’m so close, Joel,” you said lightly, your eyes rolling back into your head. “Oh my god!”

Joel’s thrusts continued, sweat beading on his forehead. His grunts got louder and more breathy. “That’s it, just like that,” he said. “Gonna make you come around my cock, huh? That’s what you want?”

You nodded enthusiastically, whispering a somewhat breathy sounding “Please! I’m so close.”

“Do it,” he ordered you harshly. “Come for me. Come for me like the good little slut you are,” he said while putting more pressure around your neck, choking you harder. You came even harder than before, shaking and writhing around his cock, and Joel kept thrusting into you. You whined with overstimulation.

Joel’s thrusts started getting sloppy, and soon he groaned “I’m gonna come,” before pulling out of you and pumping himself harshly. He came on your lower stomach. And while he knelt on your bed, out of breath, his eyes couldn’t help but watch his come drip down your stomach a little. “One day,” he began, “I’m going to fuck a baby into you.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’ll be counting down the days.”

* (smut finished)

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Twelve months, two weeks, and four days later, you and Joel tied the knot. You had a small wedding in Jackson, with Tommy as Joel’s best man and Ellie as your maid of honor. Addie married the two of you, and you couldn’t be happier with your choice. She practically made you cry with her heartfelt speech, talking about the newfound friendship she had with Joel and how you had given her a brother she never had.

“You two are made for each other,” she had said.

Both you and Joel had written your own vows to each other. You had the papers you wrote your vows on framed in your bedroom, and occasionally you found yourself reading Joel’s handwriting and marveling at your luck. His vows were shorter than yours- he was a man of few words- but my god, did he write powerfully.

“I’ve been to so many cities in my lifetime. Nothing ever really convinced me to stay, but then I came to Jackson and I saw you in that diner, standing behind the bar like an angel. I still remember how you looked like you glowed under those lights. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I wanted to stay.

“Sometimes I wonder if I was wandering around aimlessly in my life from city to city, just looking for you. And now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to spend a single day without you.”

You’d bawled like anything that day. You had an amazing husband, a beautiful step daughter, and a wedding that your father would have approved of. You felt him in the air around you that day. While you and Joel had your first dance, you remember feeling like someone had placed your hand on your shoulder; but when you glanced, no one was there.

I love you, Dad, you had thought to yourself that day. I love you so much.

Now, while you glanced at your newly made wedding photo album, you felt the memories rush into you like a wave. It had only been a month since then. You still missed that day.

“Sweetheart,” you heard a voice say from downstairs. “Do we have any more boxes to pack?”

You smiled. Joel. “Just one more,” you yelled back. “I’ll be down in a little!”

You stroked the cover of your wedding album and put it gingerly at the top of a filled cardboard box. The sight of your now barren bedroom made tears begin to line your eyes, but your stomach danced with excitement for the future. Before you could start sobbing with nostalgia, you picked up your box and carried it down the stairs.

The creak of the stairs was music to your ears. It was a shame you wouldn’t hear it for a while.

Joel stood in the center of the living room, staring out the window while waiting for you. When he heard the telltale creak of the stairs, his head moved in your direction. “There you are,” he whispered. “Ellie’s sitting in the truck already.”

“Sorry, I was just caught up with all the memories of this place,” you responded apologetically. “It’s hard to say goodbye.”

Joel tucked you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll be back eventually, I promise.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’m going to miss this place.”

“I will, too.”

You both relaxed for a few seconds before you heard a honk from the trunk. “Your daughter is getting impatient,” Joel said, laughing lightly.

“We should get going before she drives into the house,” you said teasingly. “Wouldn’t put it past her.”

You climbed down your front porch steps, going to the trunk of the green truck Joel had borrowed from Tommy. You placed the cardboard box in the back and pulled up the barrier. Well, this is it, you thought.

Austin, here we come.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Tagged: @orcasoul

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #the last of us

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moonydustx · 7 months

Text

Crocodile x F!Reader

warnings: a little smut at the end.

The first time you caught him looking at you it was just curious irises on top of the scar that adorned his face. Despite how little time you had been working at the casino, it wasn't uncommon to notice Crocodile's curious gaze roaming over all the employees, except this day was different.

"Good evening sir." you simply responded as he approached the bar counter. "What do you want to drink?"

"If I remember, this isn't your place." he said. Even with a long counter separating you, the shine of his hook almost stole all your attention.

"Yeah, today I traded with Sirah."

In your response, it was possible to perceive the fearful tone. He was your boss and as much as you hated being there at that moment, you still needed a job.

"Are your red eyes related to this?" he asked, the hook resting on the counter as he seemed to analyze your every expression. "Are we having any problems with guests?"

"No, it was just bullshit." You tried to put on your best smile and put the topic out of Crocodile's mind, from the way he was looking at you that wouldn't be enough. "I caught my ex cheating on me with someone else this week, they both work here and today they seemed more concerned about throwing shade at me than anything else."

Only an indecipherable growl left the lips of the infamous man in front of you. He turned his back to you and began to observe the rest of the casino.

"I'm sorry I bothered you with that." Your voice was lower than expected, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"Bring me something to drink, please. Something strong." he ordered and within minutes the glass was next to him on the counter.

In the first sip he could smell whiskey along with some citrus notes and something else that he couldn't immediately decipher. Strong but tasty.

"Make yourself a drink too. I recommend the same as mine." he said and left, leaving you alone with your own thoughts.

The second time you saw him look differently was shortly after you had spoken at the casino bar. It was the second time you had consciously realized this. Other people had already told you that the most feared look in the casino seemed to follow you for a while.

That night Crocodile had some of his business partners around a betting table along with some members of Baroque Works. You didn't expect that and you also didn't expect Miss All Sunday to come find you and tell you that according to Mr. 0's orders he wanted you to command his VIP gaming table.

"Let's see..." you waited for everyone to turn over their cards, analyzing the deck. "Looks like Mr.0 won, again." Crocodile's laugh echoed through the room as you dragged the chips towards him.

"This is unfair." one of the men complained, amidst a disbelieving laugh.

"I bet that little girl over there is helping him." one of the others grumbled, frustrated at losing all his money. Before he could continue, Crocodile interrupted him.

"Be careful with the next words you say." your body shivered completely when you felt his hand touch your waist. "Don't blame the lady for my streak of luck. It's not her fault she's my good luck charm tonight."

His eyes searched yours, a mischievous smile on his lips brought a slight laugh from yours even though you felt your body burn - and weren't so sure why.

The third time you could barely meet his eyes. Every time I opened your eyes the image was too intense to be able to stand firm.

His eyes remained fixed on your body in front of the mirror. His hook holding your legs open as you squirm on top of his lap. His hand fingered your intimacy, tracing circles on your clit while he admired the scene against the mirror. In addition to your moans in the background, you could hear your ex knocking on your door and calling you without the slightest idea of what was happening.

"I bet that bastard didn't make you feel like that, did he?" Crocodile slid his fingers to your entrance, just teasing you. "I'm proud that you're mine now, my good girl." he slowly licked your neck making you squirm even more

"Please Sir." You asked, turning your face and finding his lips. Crocodile was intense in everything he did and taking your lips to him was no different.

Before you could recover from the lost air he slowly penetrated you with a finger, the cold touch of his rings against your sensitive intimacy made you scream.

"Keep it up my dear." he increased the speed soon giving space to one more digit. "Be loud let him know who you belong to now."

. . .

a/n: just an idea that popped into my head this weekend and I wanted to write it quickly. Perhaps, among the many lost wip, I will write the complete story.

#reader insert #fiction #no use of y/n #requests open #sir crocodile #crocodile x reader #crocodile one piece #op fanfic #op crocodile #mr. zero #one piece #crocodile x you

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evermoresversion · 1 year

Note

Comfort sex with Nick on those days would be so reassuring and soft I don't think people talk about it enough but there is a soft side to him just caressing eachother whilst he makes love to you and tugging on a chain by his neck like a Necklaces with your initials on his and his on yours ❤

THOSE DAYS, NICK LEISTER.

A/N I hope I have captured the idea you had well, thank you so much for your request, nonnie.

PAIRING Nick Leister x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS +18, established relationship, smut, implied mentions of blood.

SUMMARY Nick is the best boyfriend you could have asked for, and he knows you pretty well when you're sexually frustrated by your period. And he is more than willing to help you with that.

NICK'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Nick knew you well enough to know when you were sexually frustrated by your menstrual period.

You were both sitting on the couch watching a movie that he chose.

He noticed your thighs pressed between them and how you bit your lips, while your eyes stayed on the screen where there was a scene where the protagonists had sex. You hoped you weren't so obvious that Nick would notice.

You felt like a precocious teenager but you couldn't help it, much less if the hormones in your body were totally wild, making you feel a thousand things in a row.

You jumped up from the couch, drawing Nick's attention, who looked at you curiously.

"I'll be right back." you rushed to say but he was faster and took you gently by the wrist.

"Are you okay? Where are you going?" He frowned at you, your thoughts quickly going to that scene on the television, lighting your cheeks scarlet.

"I… uh." Your mind was betraying you because all the moments where you and Nick have fucked came to your mind, turning you on more, you sighed in frustration with hot cheeks and more and more red, spreading all over your face.

He looked at you with even more curiosity but with a wide smile. He knew what was wrong with you.

"What's up with that pretty little head of yours, hmm?" He caressed the back of your hand, getting you closer to him, you bit your lip to not release a sound due to the frustration that invaded your body more and more.

"It's stupid, don't listen to me." you denied looking at your hand next to his. Which seemed smaller compared to his and you smiled at the thought.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"It's just..." you sighed looking at the ceiling, if your face wasn't red anymore now it was again. "I want to fuck." you murmured feeling the anticipation and nerves fill your body, as if you hadn't even been together for almost half of a year and you hadn't done it so many times that you'd already lost count.

"You should have told me before, love." He smiled at your sudden shyness, sitting you on his lap and you looked at him worried.

"But we can't." You muttered looking directly into his eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I'm in those days..." you answered patiently waiting for his answer.

"And?" He asked without understanding why you were so worried.

"That you can stain yourself." you murmured playing with the collar of his shirt, he put you closer to him around the waist.

"That's what showers are for." After that he joined your lips with his in a kiss full of love and comfort.

He took you by the thighs so he could carry you and walk to a more comfortable place. He wanted you to feel safe doing it with him on those days.

Once in his room he left you lying on the bed, first he dedicated himself to removing his own clothes until he was naked before your eyes.

After that he took off your clothes, kissing every corner of skin that he already knew better than the palm of his hand.

He dropped it along with his clothes and leaned over you but without dropping all his weight, leaning on his forearms on the sides of your head.

"And if the sheets get stained?" you murmured seeing how the chain that hung from his neck with your initial shone with the little light that came in from outside.

"They can be washed and if the stain doesn't come out we buy new ones, stop worrying about it." He kissed your forehead taking a condom from the nightstand drawer. "Do you do the honours?" he handed you the plastic square, you opened it with your fingers and put it on him. He growled at your delicate touch on him, burying his head in your neck, kissing it softly.

Once on, he kissed your lips gently again, caressing your abdomen and waist in the same way, entering you little by little.

You let out a low moan while he gasped kissing all over your face, and taking between his fingers the chain where his initial on you lay.

"Move." you ordered in a breath and he did so, beginning to move his hips in a steady and slow rhythm.

His touch on you was just perfect, comforting and beautiful that almost brought tears to your eyes.

You had never felt this loved and trusted with someone, it was the first time you did with someone in those days. And you couldn't have gotten someone better to do it than Nick.

You stroked his hair and when the emotions overwhelmed you pulled gently, moaning and gasping as he growled and increased the speed of his thrusts.

"I love you." he murmured uniting his forehead with yours, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I love you too." you responded back feeling a surge of pleasure hit you like a goddamn truck.

In short, it didn't help at all that you were so sensitive not to cum earlier than usual.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed, climbing into that mountain of pleasure, arching your back, Nick took advantage of this, bringing one of your breasts to his mouth, licking and sucking gently.

Nick kept moving his hips slowly, lengthening your orgasm just a little bit, when you realized something you opened your eyes quickly.

"You didn't cum." he just shrugged kissing your shoulders.

"This time it's about you, not me." he murmured kissing your neck.

You smiled, and swore you couldn't ask for a better boyfriend than him.

"Let's go take a shower."

"Nah, I'm fine like this." He was practically on top of you, hugging you around the waist and his face hidden in your neck.

"Come on, sweetheart." you tried to get out from under him and his response was to hug you tighter around the waist. "Okay, let's stay like this for a little bit, but then we'll take a shower."

"'kay princess."

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icycoldninja · 3 months

Note

I'm not sure if requests are open so if not feel free to skip!

Can you do the dmc boys barely saving their s/o before death? Good ol angst/comfort for both parties

They're open for the time being. Enjoy.

Saving Reader from death headcannons (Sparda boys + V x Reader)

Warning: injury, blood, near death experiences

¤ Dante ¤

-He'd made a mistake, taking you out on a mission with him. He knew he shouldn't have, but you were so eager to go and gung ho about ripping up demons, he just couldn't bring himself to crush your spirits.

-Almost as soon as you two arrived on scene, the demons fell upon you like hungry wolves to a piece of meat, mauling you, clawing at you, chewing on you, and more.

-It was lucky Dante had the reflexes he did, otherwise you would have been nothing but a bloody corpse. He'd managed to shoot the demons, knock them back, and otherwise incapacitate them enough for him to reach you.

-You were hurt, badly, but still alive. Forgetting all about the mission, Dante scooped you into his arms and carried you off to the nearest hospital, where, thankfully, the doctors were able to treat you.

-Dante spent the remainder of your recovery sitting by your bed, holding your hand with all his strength, constantly apologizing for being so stupid.

-"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I was an idiot to put you in danger like that, I-I should've known better. From now on, you're staying home, where it's safe, OK? I...don't ever wanna have to see you like this again."

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil knew demons would stoop to low, low methods to get what they wanted, but he didn't think they'd go so far as to track down where you lived and attack you in your own home.

-He'd received a phone call from you while on his way back from a mission. Expecting a loving greeting, Vergil was met with panicked screaming from the other end; you, begging for him to come home quickly because the demons had found you.

-Vergil wasted no time in portaling over, and not a moment too soon, for he'd found you cornered in the kitchen, a demon's scythe just centimeters from your throat.

-Thankfully, Vergil worked quickly and cut the demon down where it stood, preventing you from meeting what would have surely been a horrific demise.

-He was so worried and afraid about your safety, he didn't even flinch when you collapsed into his arms, weeping and wailing about how terrified you were.

-"It's alright, my dove. You are safe. I'm home. There are no more demons, not anymore. Shhh."

□ Nero □

-Nero had invited you to come with him on a quick, innocent trip to the store for groceries, thinking it'd be a great opportunity to just hang out together.

-He had absolutely no clue that demons would choose to attack the supermarket of all places on that specific day.

-The demons came in from all sides, quickly flooding the store with their ranks. In under 5 minutes, the little menaces had toppled shelving, collapsed light fixtures, rammed people with shopping carts, flung frozen food at everyone, and barricaded the doors with fallen vending machines. While Nero worked to clear an exit, the demons snuck up from above and caused a large, industrial lamp to fall from the ceiling. You were half crushed by the metal monstrosity before you even knew it.

-Nero couldn't control himself and Triggered right then and there, devoting all his attention to pulling you out of under the large light fixture. Once he'd done so, he blew open the wall using something or other and raced you to the hospital, returning to deal with the demons shortly afterward.

-He then came back to the hospital to find you alive, but in pretty bad condition, most of the bones in your legs, but thankfully not your back, having been cracked, at the very least. Nero spent the next few months of your recovery stationed in a chair by the door, head in his hands, blaming himself for not being able to save you from injury.

-"God, I'm such an asshole. I'm sorry, baby, I screwed up big time. I'm such a freaking loser. I should have been faster, shoulda followed my instincts and yanked you outta there earlier. Why the fuck didn't I do that? I suck."

● V ●

-You and V were simply enjoying a pure and romantic moonlit walk together in the city.

-Then the demons showed up out of literally nowhere, taking the both of you by surprise as they surrounded you, claws brandished and fangs gnashing.

-V summoned his familiars to dispatch them, but it wasn't enough. Some slipped through his already thin defenses and struck you with their bloodstained weaponry, inflicting countless wounds upon your body.

-V managed to kill them all off before they could kill you, but still, you were badly hurt, and if he didn't get you medical help now, you could die from your wounds.

-He did his best to get you to the nearest hospital despite his crumbling body, nearly passing out on the doorstep in the process. The doctors said they could save you, and for that, V was glad, but at the same time, he felt angry at himself for not being able to do more for you.

-"Alas, Wanderer, if only this body wasn't as fragile as paper mache. I sorely wish I were stronger, for if I wasn't so weak, I might've been able to save you. Please, forgive me."

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mimicmockingbirds · 2 years

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OK, but hear me out

Say Ride the Cyclone were to be adapted into a film; imagine how much fun it would be to see it animated.

Because for the main plot, like the intro song and the mostly dialogue scenes in limbo, you could easily do a stylistic, but still grounded in realism style that a lot of modern animated projects are doing right now (think Arcane or Into the Spider Verse). But once each of the kids go into their respective songs/fantasies for what their life could have been? What if those were done in completely different styles?? Imagine the additional, visual storytelling that would tell about who they are as characters?

Like say, for Ocean's number, WTWN, everything became more simplified, and the characters (especially Ocean herself) turned into a more rounded, chibi-like style to enhance just how cutesy and likeable she's trying to portray herself throughout that number.

Or for Noel's Lament, everything goes black and white, and the characters become even more 2D stylized, and the film scales down to a smaller millimeter frame, more reminiscent of cartoons from the early 20's, when animation was just starting out, to enhance his idealization of "the olden days" (as Ocean puts it).

Mischa's song, This Song is Awesome could be animated with a more choppy frame rate, and the character designs turn a little more jagged around the edges, kind of like animated music videos (I'm thinking a Gorillaz band vibe). But as he transitions into singing about Talia, the colors start to bleed out over their lineart, and become more paint-like and Talia herself moves like a rotoscoped character (think Loving, Vincent that came out a few years ago) to enhance the sense that she's somewhere between a real person and a fantasy Mischa's built in his mind.

Ricky's song would, of course, be stylized after those sci-fi cartoons from the 90's, like X-Men or Captain Planet.

For the Ballad of Jane Doe, I would love to see something like what Wolfwalkers did back in 2020, where most of the characters (in this case, the other kids) are for the most part, animated like traditional, 2D characters with very clean lines and neat movements, whereas Jane herself stands out for having messier, sketchy line art, and looks more and more unfinished in her animation as the song goes on, because she can feel more and more of her own identity being lost.

Constance's Sugar Cloud I could see done in the classic 2D Disney style (i.e., the Renaissance era of Disney, like the Lion King or Little Mermaid days) because not only is it really smooth and colorful and just all around nice to look at, but it reminds the average moviegoer of their childhood growing up with those movies (among others, obviously), which ties in nicely with Constance's preceding monologue about remembering her own life, and the good that came with the bad.

I'm even tempted to envision the first half of the finale song in a different style, when the stage production would show a quick projection of Jane/Penny's life after she returned to the world of the living. Imagine watching this animated film, and for that segment alone, it becomes that really hyper-realistic, almost uncanny valley CGI animation style, to show that she really has joined the world of the living, i.e. our world, among us, the living breathing movie goers watching this, and watching the other kids still in limbo fade back to that main art style for the final number.

I don't know; it just feels like something that would be so engaging to see from an already compelling storyline and characters. Especially with more experimental animation projects on the rise right now

#random rambling #Ride the Cyclone #Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg #Noel Gruber #Mischa Bachinski #Ricky Potts #Jane Doe #Penny Lamb #Constance Blackwood #idk I just really love animation you guys #so naturally I have to bring my latest hyperfixation into that world #might even sketch these different styles #for a better visual idea #but I haven't done any sketches in a hot minute #so who knows

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sleepykye · 3 months

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Fireplace, fireplace..

Warning(s): Make-out sessions, slight NSFW

Minors do not interact !

If you do not support NSFW fanfics, please scroll away and don't bother reading 🙏

Aged up!Tamaki x Aged up!Reader

You and Tamaki were sitting in the living room of the secluded cabin, the warmth of the fireplace casting a soft glow around the room. The evening had been calm, filled with quiet conversation, and shared laughter. As the night wore on, you suggested watching a movie together

You picked a romantic comedy, something lighthearted to ease the tension that still occasionally lingered between you. Halfway through the movie, a particularly romantic scene played out on the screen. You could feel Tamaki’s gaze flicker towards you, his nervousness palpable.

You turned to him, a playful smile on your lips. “Hey, Tamaki, what would you do if you were in a scene like that?”

He blushed deeply, looking down. “I-I don’t know. I guess… I’d try to be brave.”

“Brave, huh?” you teased gently, moving a little closer to him. “Like this?” You leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

Tamaki’s breath hitched, his eyes widening in surprise. Emboldened by his reaction, you closed the remaining distance between you and kissed him on the lips. What started as a tentative kiss quickly deepened as Tamaki, overcoming his initial shock, responded with a fervor you hadn’t expected.

His hands cupped your face, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more passionate. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, then around his neck, tangling in his hair as you pressed yourself against him.

Tamaki pulled you even closer, feeling your body pressed closely to his as he continued to kiss you. He slowly moved his arms so that one was resting on your waist while he moved the other one to the back of your head, where it began to gently tangle itself into your hair. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage as he continued to kiss you, his mind felt hazy, and all he could focus on was you.

He slowly pulled away from the kiss, his face almost right against yours as he took a moment to catch his breath. His eyes were half-lidded as he stared at you, and they had a new look within them. They looked filled with desire and want. His breathing was a bit fast, and he could still feel his heart pounding against his ribcage as he held you to his body. While Tamaki was trying to catch his breath.

When he saw you give a cheeky smile and stuck your tongue out at him, he could feel himself losing what little restraint he had left at your gesture while your arms encircled around his neck. The kiss, no matter how small and brief it was, was sending his mind into a spiral filled with desire. But the feeling of your arms wrapping around his neck was what completely made him lose his restraint. He slowly brought one of his hands up so it gently cupped your face, and he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb as he looked at you with a gaze that screamed out the words 'I want you'. And once again.

Eventually, after more kissing and you teasing him, he snapped as his hands grabbed your waist. He lifted you up while he stood up and carried you to the bedroom. The movie was playing in the background as he ignored it, slamming the door shut while he gently put you on the bed.

His hands moved to your shorts as he looked up into your eyes, asking if he could remove it first.

"May I?" He whispered, his forehead pressed against yours while his eyes held a hint of desperation.

After you nodded, he slid your shorts off of you easily as he threw it to the side. His fingers fiddled with your lingerie slightly before sliding it off as well. His eyes admired how wet you were already as he chuckled, his fingers teasingly rubbing against your clit first as he observed your reaction.

You gasped at the pleasureable feeling as you whined slightly. He knew what you wanted, but he wasn't going to allow you to get it so easily.

"Tama... please.." You begged softly, giving him the puppy eyes while he held back a laugh at how easy you were to submit. Oh boy were you in for a long night..

– 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 –

I'm not doing the full thing as I'm not really used to writing NSFW, sorry. 😔

#amajiki #amajiki tamaki #amajiki x reader #amajiki x you #tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki x reader #tamaki x you #amajiki tamaki x reader #suneater x reader #suneater

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moonpedri · 1 year

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does he know.

summary: you love gavi and you're happy in your relationship with him. but for some reason you're the moth and pedri, his best friend, is the flame that pulls you in.

pairing: pedri x reader

genre: angst, smut and a sprinkle of fluff

warnings: cheating (we do not support!), phone s*x, masturbating, mentions of genitals lmao, cursing

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this idea came to me months ago when i heard the song 'moth to a flame' by the weeknd while working lmao. and when you work in retail, you have a lot of time to think :D. i do not condone cheating in any way, i think it's vile and disgusting, but 🫣😵‍💫 i couldn't help myself with this one. enjoy!!<3

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"Hey, everything alright, sugar?"

You hiccup, "N-no. Can you come over?"

"Be there in 10." He hangs up immediately, giving you no time to even thank him. You take a look at your phone again. Your vision is blurry with tears in your eyes.

The call lasted a record time of 7 seconds. That's how long it took for you to convince him to come over. The occasion was usually a different one, but you needed his comfort more than anything right now.

You look at the contact picture, Pedri was smiling at the camera. No, he was smiling at you. The thought alone puts a smile on your face as well, but the events only hours ago catch up to you and you almost break out into tears again.

You and Pablo fought, and you normally never do. Dating Pablo Gavi was no easy task, but you loved the challenge. You loved how easy it was with him sometimes and how difficult it could get too. That's what made a relationship a relationship.

He treats you right and you feel incredibly loved by him. Maybe that's why it irked you the wrong way when one of his female friends got a little too close to him today, when your mutual friend group went mini-golfing. It only got worse when he reciprocated her actions.

"It's actually super easy, just hold the handle this way.", he explained to her, all the while you stood behind them, seeing red. She was shamelessly oggling at his biceps in front of you. In a fit of jealousy, you decided to just ignore him the entire rest of the day. Looking back at it, you may have spoiled the mood for everyone but you didn't care. You could have made a scene as well and ruined the fun straight upc but you decided to do it silently instead. Which again, was absolutely stupid, because just telling Pablo would have done the job.

He's a sweetheart, you know he never meant it that way. He never looses his temper with you either, he just calmly listens to you and talks to you; both of you finding a compromise to the problem - that's just how things between you two worked.

And that makes everything so much worse, because today he did lose his temper with you. He screamed at you, and you screamed back. Mean things where exchanged inside the car. You really don't want to know what a sight you two made.

It ended with him pulling over, after you yelled at him to stop the car. You slammed the door shut and stormed off, expecting him to follow you. He never did. Instead he raced off, leaving you in the dust.

In retrospect, you did it to yourself. Doesn't mean it didn't hurt though.

The way home took you a little more than 30 minutes and once you were inside, the tears began flooding down your face.

You hated feeling like this and you hated the fact that it was your own fault even more. You tried calling Gavi multiple times, but he didn't answer. And after an hour, you decided to stop, it was hopeless anyways. You would have to spend this awful night alone tonight, you thought.

And if God wasn't on your side that evening, the Devil definitely was. It was as if he was right by your sight, whispering sinful words into your ear. And foolishly, you listened to him.

You decided to call Pedri.

It sounds wrong, and maybe it is, but it certainly never felt that way with him. Risqué, you would describe the relationship you two have. At least that's what you always told Pedri; you liked the way the word sounded. A little french, no?

He's your boyfriend's best friend. They're teammates and Pablo told you multiple times that he even considers him a brother.

A brother you secretly slept with.

In your defense, you met him and slept with him before you and Pablo were even talking to each other. It was useless though, because you continued.

You didn't mean for it to happen, but like bananas turn to the sun and moths to a flame, you turned to Pedri.

If you're the moth, then Pedri is the flame that pulls you in and burns you. But he never lets it come so far, because he always pulls back before you can burst into flames.

This thing between you and Pedri started about a year ago, months before you even knew Pablo.

You met coincidentally one day at a match of his. Your little brother was a huge FC Barcelona fan and you gifted him front-row tickets for his 12th birthday.

They won that day and some of the players decided to sign autographs and take pictures with their loyal Culers.

Pedri was one of them.

Your brother squealed when the 19 year old football player was near you. He signed his jersey with a chuckle. "You're my idol, Pedri! Thank you so much.", your brother said politely, the excitement in his voice very evident.

"Thank you, big man. Your support helped a lot today.", Pedri said gratefully.

He looked at you then and you had admit that in person he looked even better. His big brown eyes worked like hypnosis on you and the sun did nothing to hide his beautiful tan either.

It seemed like he wanted to sign your shirt as well. You wanted to decline, you didn't need his sign but your brother beat you to it.

"My sister thinks you're handsome."

To this very day you don't know if you should thank him for introducing Pedri into your life or be angry at him for humiliating you like that in front of him.

Pedri's eyes widened. He turned to your brother mischievously, "Oh, is that so? Is she a fan as well or...does she just like my face?"

"Yes, but not as big as me of course. She and her friend talked about you on the phone sometimes. It's sooo annoying." Your brother complains nonchalantly, like Pedri was his best-bud and they just catch up with each other.

You grab your around your little brother's head and pull it close to your side, hushing him, "Anyways, good game.", you tell Pedri with a wide smile. You make a move to just leave, when Pedri holds up his pen.

"Let me sign your shirt."

You press your lips together but give in eventually, hoping that he'll just quickly move on to his other fans. He bids you goodbye with a wink and a ruffle to your brothers head.

It's only later at home that you realized that he left his phone number on your shirt. You still have it stowed away in the safety of your closet. And it will probably stay there forever.

You texted Pedri the next day. After all you couldn't come off as too easy, right?

Talking with him came easy. Conversations flowed like water and the topics just never stopped. It felt good to be with him, you felt like yourself. He listened to your every word and he made you feel special.

The two of you dated around for 5 months. You would lie if you said that these months weren't one of the most beautiful times of your life so far, but also the most hurtful ones.

Pedri travelled a lot with you, spoiled you rotten to no end and the sex(!!!). You genuinely liked his presence.

You wore your heart on your sleeve, you practically gave it to him. You two acted like a couple, like you were utterly and completely in love.

Maybe you were. Maybe it was just your imagination, because a guy showed so much interest in you for the first time.

But you two were never officially together.

Pedri never asked you to be his girlfriend. He always brought you everywhere, yet he never introduced you as his special someone.

You still wonder if Pedri never felt anything for you. Why he hesitated so much. It broke your heart, when you told him one day that you had enough. Of course he immediately understood what you meant. And the little hope you had of him finally making the last step, diffused when he said nothing more. He didn't fight for you, he let you go.

It hurt you, but for some reason it didn't break you like you initially thought it would. In fact, you and Pedri still stayed in contact. You befriended some of his friends in the time you two dated, it would've been awkward. And like you mentioned, being with Pedri was easy.

If you two could be lovers, then you definitely can be friends as well.

Things between you ended in September. In November you met Gavi.

It came a bit to a surprise to you, the wound didn't completely heal yet and Gavi was a year younger than you; you didn't go for younger guys. But Pablo was gentle, he put a band-aid over it and in January the two of you started dating.

That's also when things between you and Pedri started to become...different. In the time between the break-up and the start of your new relationship, he treated you like a good friend would. Pedri made you feel at ease and less hurt over the whole ordeal. He never hinted at anything more. The moment your relationship became public though, he started acting odd.

Suddenly he was everywhere. He stood and sat next to you whenever your little group of friends met. When you were at the beach, his eyes practically undressed you behind his shades. When you watched their training sessions, he lingered by your side too long.

No one noticed because you and Pedri always got along. You were friends. Only some knew that there may have been more, but no one knew for sure - especially not Gavi.

The real culprit however was you. Because all the while, you never said anything. You never rejected Pedri, you did nothing to push him away. It was just not in you to do that. Like it was coded in your DNA.

The cheating however started with a call one night. In a state of boredom you decided to browse through your gallery and organize it, when you stumbled across old pictures of you and Pedri.

In one you were cuddling, in the next one you were kissing. The pictures got gradually more indecent and you couldn't help but think back to when you took them. You laid on your back, naked cleavage only slightly visible. Sweat collected itself on your hairline. Next to you was Pedri, sucking on your neck, only the back of of his head visible.

You swiped right. Another intimate picture, but this time it was a mirror selfie. Not much was visible thanks to the curtains that dimmed the room, but you sat on top of him. Your nipples perked up. Pedri's hands grabbed onto your hips harshly, his head was tilted back.

You remember taking this picture very well. Pedri always said he didn't like taking them, he complained when you took this very one. In hindsight you believe he did. He posed so well on camera, you know he must have enjoyed it secretly.

You also remember how good he felt inside of you. He always managed to find the right spot to make you squeal and squirm around, stretching your cervix in all the right ways.

Heat began building up in your lower area and you couldn't help but lower your hands under your pants. The moment you cupped your vulva, goosebumps spread all over your body. It's been a long time since you touched yourself.

Being horny alters something in your brain. All at once, you can't think rationally. Essentially, you just think with your fucking dick. It just overcomes you - like a switch.

Rationally thinking you should have called your boyfriend. One look at the picture on your phone told you that that wasn't what you wanted.

A few taps later and the phone rings.

"__. It's one in the morning, is everything okay?", he answers the phone. The sleepiness in his voice was evident.

"Yeah, I just-.", a sigh escapes your mouth. Your ring finger touched around the entrance of your vagina and you can't even formulate a proper sentence. Nothing that you did right now was morally right, it was absolutely impromper. You didn't know how you were going to explain your late night call to Pedri either.

But he knew you so well. He recognized the tone in your voice immediately.

"__", his voice was hoarse. It did nothing to ease your pleasure, no, it only worsened it. "I think you got the wrong number."

"No, I don't.", you retorted.

He sounded troubled, "You should call Pablo. You shouldn't hav-"

"No, I wanted you.", you say as you add another finger to circle around your vagina. You're so wet already and so sensitive. A moment of silence passes and you press your thighs together. You didn't have the time to argue around.

Something needed to be done.

"I just found an old picture of us in my phone. You know, the ones in bed you didn't like. And I just remembered,", you closed your eyes, "I just, Pedro please do something."

You heard him shuffle on the other end.

"Fuck, what are you doing right now?"

And so he joins your little spiel.

You opened your legs and started rubbing your clitoris, "Touching myself."

"Where?"

Pedri's voice, now a lot more demanding, was still raspy from sleep and you began rubbing a bit faster. "My clit. Wish it was you", you croaked out. You started getting louder.

Pedri curses, "M'getting hard. Fuck."

You imagined what he must look like right now, lying in his bed, pants pulled down and stroking his dick desperately. You whimpered at the thought.

You loved his dick.

Honestly penises never really appealed to you objectively; they're ugly. They definitely felt better than they looked and if someone asked, you wouldn't say they were a man's nicest body part. You still liked them though.

Pedri, however, had one of the prettiest ones you have ever seen (not that you saw many). Everything from his girth to his tip to his color was so perfect. You loved sitting between his legs, crawling at his muscular thighs, while his dick was in your mouth.

A moan escaped your mouth, "Your cock always felt so good. So pretty."

You wondered if Pedri imagined you naked as well. If his thoughts were as filthy as yours were. Surely, they must have been. "Fuck, baby, I thought about your pussy so much."

"Yeah?"

"Hmm, always so good for me. No one compares."

You could here the slick sound of him pumping his dick through the phone, it was lewd. So dirty and so wrong, but you never felt better.

Rubbing your clit was not enough anymore, you needed your fingers inside of you. The sound filled your entire bedroom and you held the phone closer between your legs. "Pedro.", you moan his name. You wanted him know how he made you feel, how your body reacted just at the thought of him.

"You sound so wet, princess, just for me?"

"Yes, only you." You started kneading your boob too, imagining it to be his hand instead. "Ahh.", you cry as you hit that special spot. Pedri always managed to find it. May it be with his dick, his fingers or, your favorite, his tongue - hot and wet. He made you feel things you didn't think a human could feel.

The call didn't go on for long. You taunted and teased each other for only a little longer. Words became more slurred until the only thing left was the lewd sounds of you two moaning and whimpering into each other's ears.

You were close. Your fingers were still rapidly pushing back and forth, until everything came to a halt. You couldn’t breathe.

Your back archs backwards and your fingers were clutching at the sheets, as heat overcame your body and your orgasm washed over you. You're vaguely aware of Pedri grunting into the phone as well - too lost in your own pleasure.

And then it slowly fades away.

Suddenly you're hyper-aware of everything, as your consciousness trickled back. Your chest heaves up and down heavily.

You stared at the ceiling, guilt starting to consume you all of a sudden. You felt horrible, to say the least.

Pedri must have felt the same way, you believed. Heavy breathing was the only thing you heard on his end, when you spoke up, "Don't get me wrong. This was...amazing.", you started, searching for words. "But Pablo can't know. This shouldn't have happened, I'm sorry, I don't know what overcame me."

It took Pedri a moment to answer your word-vomit. "It's fine,__. There are always two involved, right? Let's just forget about it." The guilt in his voice was evident too, Gavi was his best friend after all.

You thought that settled it. A one-time mistake.

One time turned to two times and two times turned to multiple more calls at night, sometimes while Pablo slept next to you.

You kept the pictures of you two, and your boyfriend's bed was not the only bed you have spent your night at anymore. And he wasn't the only one spending his nights in yours either.

Just like right now.

The ringing of the doorbell rips you out of your thoughts. Pedri actually manages to be at your door in 8 minutes.

He engulfes you in a hug the moment he sees your tear-struck face. "Talk to me, what happened?", he mumbles against your hair.

You sit on your bed when you tell him of your fight with Pablo. Your stupidity that ruined everything. Pedri sits and listens intently to your worries. Occasionally he caresses your hand or hair.

"I didn't think he would get so angry with me.", you sob.

Pedri smiles at you with warm eyes. In a moment of weakness you think about what would have happened if you stayed with Pedri. Would Pedri have acted the same way?

"W-Would you have done the same?"

The question lingers in the air for a moment. You can't blame yourself for asking. Not right now, when you feel so powerless. And you can't blame Pedri for his silence either. After all, the lines are blurred already, he has to be careful with his words.

"I don't know. Probably not.", he says.

Pedri knows you good enough by now. The look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to. You were like an open book to him.

You insinuated at more, at something possible in the future. One word and you'll be his. But he shuts you down. "He's good for you.", he says then. "I see the way he makes you feel, he truly loves you,__. You deserve that. Don't worry."

He tells to you stay with Gavi; he looks you dead in the eye, while saying it. It annoys you a bit that after all this time, he still behaves the same. But he is aware of that. Because when you need him, he's always just one call away. That's all he is and may ever be.

And Pedri knows, that you are loyal to him. Your heart lies with him; in his arms.

He looks at your vulnerable state, at your glossy eyes watching him. Oh yes, your heart truly lies with him.

Like a moth to a flame, he pulls you in. And like a flame, he's fickle but destructive. And once the moth gets too close to him, it burst into flames.

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#pedri x reader #pedri fanfic #pedri imagine #pedri smut #football x reader #football imagine #football fanfic #pedri one shot #pedri fluff

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wolfprincesszola · 11 months

Text

"Do you want a kiss?" | 707 x Reader

I couldn't think of anything else for the summary because I wanted it to be vague. Have a first kiss scene that's so cute that it makes my teeth rot every time I read it. I smiled so much when I wrote it that people in my house started to ask me if I was texting an s/o (i'm single asf). If you are one of my irl mutuals who know about my obsession with 707, no, you don't see this. Scroll away. (candy fic just in time for halloween <3) ————– Summary: You offer Saeyoung a kiss and he gladly takes the opportunity.

Trigger Warnings: None

Content Warnings: Food (Chocolate), Light Swearing (only one) ————–

"Do you want a kiss?"

707 choked on the water he had been drinking, quickly putting the cup down and going to grab a napkin to wipe his mouth and the remnants of the water that had gotten on his clothes. His voice cracked as he turned to you with confusion, "What?"

"Are you alright?" You asked, staring at him with concern etched on your face.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry about me." 707 brushed it off as he joined you on the couch, "I must've just heard you wrong."

Yeah, that was it. His lovely, innocent girlfriend wouldn't have suggested for them to share your first kiss right then and there.

"Do you want a kiss?" You blinked innocently, enunciating the words so that 707 wouldn't misunderstand you again. "What did you hear?"

Nope. He heard you correctly.

"I heard you correctly, I guess. I'm sorry, that's just such an odd question to ask when I'm drinking water."

"Why?" You raised an eyebrow, "It's something that people normally ask."

707 couldn't help but question the people you had been hanging around and debating trying to take you away from you friends without knowing the full story. Who had been asking you to kiss them and would 707 be able to take them in a fight?

"I don't know. I just never thought that you would be the one to ask me that first. I guess I also thought that it'd be in a more romantic setting than this."

You raised an eyebrow before glancing around the room, "Sitting in the living room together domestically isn't romantic enough for you? I guess I could present it down on one knee too..."

"No, no! There's no need." 707 laughed nervously, stopping you from getting down on one knee, "This is fine. This is romantic enough already."

"Besides, not everything we do has to be romantic." You hummed, smiling at 707, "What are you so nervous about? It's just me asking you if you wanted one. It's okay to say no."

Why weren't you freaking out about this? Why were you treating this like nothing? Had you done this before? Was he ready to make the move? What if he was bad? What if he was horrible and then you wanted to dump him? What if he messed things up because he had agreed to a kiss? Was he overthinking this?

Looking at your nonchalant face, he definitely was.

"It's okay to say no, Saeyoung." You repeated, "You don't have to say yes to make me happy. I don't care either way."

"You don't?" 707 raised an eyebrow.

It wasn't the earliest stage of your relationship together as the two of you had been together for more than half a year already. However, you still had yet to do many things. It took you two almost three months to start holding hands even because of the anxiety 707 held and the inability to make a move you had. You two were fine with the slow pace you were going at though. It was nice and a fresh breath of air from the constant whirling of the rollercoaster life took you two on.

"Of course I don't. Why would I?"

"Well because I just assumed that you never had one before, so this would be as big of a deal for you as it is for me." 707 admitted, "Are you telling me you have?"

You stared at 707 as if he was insane, "Everyone I knew has had one, especially in your elementary school days. Don't tell me you've never had one."

"Of course I haven't! You know me. I mean, you're my first girlfriend."

You raised an eyebrow, "What does that have to do with ever having a kiss?"

707 flushed, knowing that he had greatly assumed that if you had already had your first kiss, it had to have been from your previous boyfriend. 707 did not know a single thing about your ex, but wanted to strangle him for ruining the experience of you ever sharing your first kiss with 707. Great, you had officially turned 707 into a homicidal maniac, ready to kill anyone that got in the way of his relationship. "You're right, it doesn't."

"But you're serious about that? You've never had your first kiss?" You seemed appalled by the statement.

"No!"

"Somehow I doubt that."

"What? You think I'm so likeable that people are just lining up to give me kisses?" 707 accused you.

"Well, yeah! You're the Saeyoung Choi. You're my boyfriend. If I like you, that means that there had to have been several friends of yours that have offered you them." You scoffed, "I mean, I'm not very much of a likeable person and I still had people offer them to me."

"Did you take the offers?"

"Of course I did! It was free kisses. Why wouldn't I?"

"You whore!" 707 scoffed, amusement clearly sparkling his eyes with no malicious intent to the comment.

He was surprised though. For someone who seemed very new and innocent to the relationship idea just like he was, you sure had a lot of experience if you had kissed many people. 707 felt a little jealous at the fact that he wouldn't be your first kiss, although he knew that his thinking was silly. You were his and would always be his for as long as he cherished you. He didn't have to worry about you accepting anyone's offers to kiss anyone while you two were together. There was at least that.

"What? You're telling me you've always refused it when people have offered them to you? I completely doubt that's true." You examined 707 for body signals to show that he was lying.

"They've never offered them to me." 707 admitted, "Unfortunately."

"You never bought any either?"

"Why would I? The booths are just overpriced for something I know I'll experience in time."

"Weirdly poetic for something as small as a kiss." You smirked, "Would you like to try it now?"

His heart started to pound. Was this really happening? Was he really going to kiss you for the first time?

"More than anything." He breathed out as he stared at you. "I just...what if I mess up?"

"Mess up?" You raised an eyebrow, "I doubt you can mess up at this."

"Says who?"

"Says me, who has gotten plenty of kisses in the past!" You giggled.

"Well, I've never had one before, so I don't know what to do."

You stared at your boyfriend before exhaling in amusement, "Alright, fine. I'll help you out. Move your phone, I'm going to sit on your lap."

"O-oh, okay." 707 cleared his throat as he moved his phone, trying not to show his flushed face. You straddled him, your legs in between 707's as you were facing him. 707 wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling off. "How do I do this?"

"Just relax and close your eyes." You instructed.

707 did just that, feeling the darkness comforting him. He really hoped that you couldn't hear just how loud his heart was pounding.

"Open your mouth."

707 let confusion wash over his face as he emphasized every word to make sure he knew what you were saying, "Open my mouth?"

"Open your mouth." Your voice remarked as he could hear crinkling of something.

"Why would that be beneficial in any way, Y/N?" 707's voice had raised from confusion all the way to bewilderedness.

"Just do it, babe, before I force your mouth open. That's the correct way." You remarked.

"Alright, alright." 707 sighed before letting his jaw open, feeling you move yourself closer to him and his mouth. There seemed to be no more sounds of crinkling as something--your fingers--brushed against his lips. His heartbeat fastened as he was waiting for your lips to close in on his.

Then, he tasted chocolate.

Sweet, creamy, and velvety chocolate. It had the same distinct taste that Hershey's chocolate kisses had.

Oh...that's what you meant. His eyes fluttered open as he looked at you, smiling.

"How is it?"

707 burst out laughing, pulling you close so that he could bury his face into your chest in embarrassment. "Oh my universe. Y/N, you're so innocently sweet. Just like this kiss."

"What?" You laughed, pushing 707 gently off of you so that you could look at his face, "What are you talking about?"

"I thought you were talking about an actual kiss, not a Hershey's. I've had plenty of chocolate kisses before." 707 brushed a hair out of your face as he waited for the recognition to hit you.

"Huh? Oh-OH!" Your eyes widened as you burst out laughing too. "Is that why you were so flustered and nervous?"

"What else was I supposed to think when you just randomly offered me that?"

"The treat! I didn't think you would think of that!"

"Clearly not." 707 gasped for air as he finally finished the chocolate in his mouth before he could choke on it. He cupped your cheeks, "My innocent, sweet girlfriend."

"Shut up." You huffed, "So you're telling me you've had a Hershey's kiss before?"

"Yes, plenty."

"But not a kiss on the lips?"

"Nope. I've never been offered that."

"Then...do you want a kiss?"

707 stared at you, wondering if you were truly offering it this time. His voice cracked as he tried to ask you to clarify, "What?"

"Do you want a kiss?" You remarked, enunciating things the same way you had asked in the beginning of the situation. "It's okay to say no, babe."

"No, I want it." 707 gave a small smile, "How do I do this?"

"Just close your eyes and this time, close your mouth." You giggled as you cupped 707's face. Your chest was pressed against his and he could practically hear your heart racing at a hundred miles an hour. His heart was pounding almost the same speed as yours.

707 slowly closed his eyes as you leaned in, fully shutting them when he could feel your breath on his face. Your lips brushed together before finally, you gently pressed your lips against each other and then pulled away.

You tasted like Hershey's chocolate kisses and strawberries. Your lips weren't chapped, but instead waxy as only moments before you offered him a kiss, he had watched you apply your signature strawberry chapstick. He hadn't realized how much he had wanted to know what it had tasted like and how it was like to be so close to your lips until the moment he had gotten a taste of you. Maybe that was why your chapstick never seemed to last you long. It would dry out in hopes that the chapstick would once again touch your lips, becoming addicted to that sensation. Now that 707 had gotten a taste of his own, he knew that it would become an addiction of his.

"Was that okay?" You asked as 707's eyes fluttered open, staring at his girlfriend that was facing him with anxiety written all over your face.

All 707 did was pull you closer to him with his arms still wrapped around your waist before having his right hand travel to pull you face closer to his. He crashed his lips onto yours as an answer, desperately wanting another taste of your lips, of you.

You returned the energy as your hands traveled from his face into his hair. 707 could not care less about how you were messing up his hairstyle when you had your fingers in his hair while you were kissing him. Those combined together made the top ten list of his favorite things you did in that moment.

When you two separated--albeit only because you two were humans that needed to breathe--you pressed your foreheads together, whispering a feisty remark, "You never answered my question."

707 couldn't help the smile that spread onto his face, "It was more than okay."

"Good."

You two stayed in quiet silence, enjoying each other's company. Even as you shifted off of 707's lap and onto the spot next to them, you took comfort in nestling closer to one another and holding each other.

The only thing that interrupted the silence was when you held out another chocolate kiss, "Do you want a kiss?"

"I'd love one." 707 replied as he pulled you closer to him for a kiss before grabbing the chocolate and popping it in his mouth. ————– If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging! Reblogging helps me a lot and it's just two clicks of a button (trust me, likes don't do anything to help me). Check out my masterlist for more, feel free to request any writings, and stick around if you want to see what other fandoms I like to write for! :)

#this is so cute omg #i got this idea from my friends handing me hersheys and telling me they hated them #female reader #707 x reader #luciel choi #707 #mystic messenger #cw light swearing #cw food #chocolate #established relationship #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #first kiss #domestic fluff #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x reader

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