#I will say that I really hope he woodworks more
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I can't believe my dad is retired. I feel too young for this. I feel he's too young for this. I feel like I'm still 15 sometimes. I feel surprised every time I go home and he looks older. I feel surprised when I finally FaceTime home instead of call and see he's grown a beard for the first time in my life. I feel like time should really just... freeze
#I will say that I really hope he woodworks more#I'm thinking about proposing a project to him when I go home in the summer... I wanna build a TV/media console w him#all the ones I like are either a gajillion dollars or look like they're made of plywood (...sometimes both)#so I think we can make something serviceable. only downside is I'll have to drive it back to me#OOOO maybe he can drive it back with me#o m g maybe he can come over for a hockey game next year.... yeah...#okay maybe there are upsides to retirement
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Christ, the whole Wilbur situation is so fucked. Already the things that are coming out of the woodworks so quickly are so sad.
tw for abuse and misogyny. If you aren’t aware of this yet, Wilbur Soot has been revealed as a prolific abuser
My heart breaks for all the people he’s harmed. I think Shelby was really intelligent in the way that she’s brought this to attention, without naming him. This meant that even though some people denied it or lashed back at her, the repercussions were minimised.
Wilbur responding proved it was him she was talking about, although the details she provided made it so patently clear it was him from the start, it made it so that he had to admit he was the one who had been committing essentially serial abuse on young women by the nature of him responding to the description of the unnamed abuser, although he didn’t mention that it was *multiple women* in his absolutely pathetic excuse of an ‘apology’.
I’ve been thinking about this deeply from pretty much directly the moment after Shubble revealed it really. I’m not going to pretend that I’ve ever watched any of Shubble’s stuff, and I’ve not watched streamers for a couple of years now, but the courage she had to do this is fucking immense. Wilbur is very well off financially with a massive and loyal fanbase, the influence he has is very large and not to be underestimated. His ‘apology’ reeks of PR pressure, although it fails to meet the mark on all levels of even a basic apology (which is not even the bare minimum in this situation) and omits some very important details.
It’s so sad that abuse and grooming is so common amongst streamers/YouTubers, but the response to this time (from the community) being genuine support instead of victim blaming does make me feel hopeful. Wilbur’s condescension of women and younger ccs is absolutely disgusting. This recontextualises so many moments when he’s been dismissive of and made jokes at women’s expense. What he’s done is abuse and it’s misogyny. He’s picked on people he knows are less able to fight back from all parameters. Misogyny is massive in the gaming scene, and he’s relied on all these women (it really is a lot at this rate, even an ex-trumpeter from Lovejoy) staying silent out of fear.
Shubble saying keeping their silence protected him more than it protected her is very true, and this will absolutely wreck his reputation. Rather, he’s fucked it up himself, and there really is no one else to blame in this situation. The people who knew about it and were subject to this were typically smaller, younger or female streamers. It’s disgusting that he had relied on their silence for so long.
This is a bit of a mess, but ngl so am I. It’s been eating at me for as long as it’s been going on, I found out almost immediately. I was quite a big Wilbur fan for a damn long time, since his early days of streaming (when skyblock randomiser was made etc). I was emotionally invested in his original music and looked up to him a lot.
The worst thing I think is that I resonated with his online interactions with Tommy (which makes me feel vile), and his adoration of Wilbur, always calling him ‘like a big brother’, and it fondly reminded me of me and my younger sibling. Except Wilbur would sometimes do some unexpectedly cruel things. Like stomping on Tommy’s hand and causing it to bleed. That alarmed me at the time, also when he revealed that he was relying on Tommy to talk him out of suicide, which really made me concerned about how healthy their relationship was. The worst thing is, this didn’t surprise me that much at all when it was revealed. Shelby’s descriptions could fit no other person, and it made sense and lined up with his past behaviour, but that doesn’t make it any less wholly awful and horrific.
I wasn’t going to talk about it on this blog, but I just feel angry. Angry for all these people he’s hurt. Angry that he’ll still be living comfortably off of his fanbase for years to come, young people who trusted and idolised him, the vast majority young girls themselves. Angry for Shubble, angry for Niki, angry for the women’s names we don’t know yet, angry for those who had been intimidated into silence. Angry for those who had been abused and brutalised by him. The main thing that’s coming up again and again is the biting, the bruising, the physical abuse, the way they were scared into saying anything, left traumatised by the way they’d been treated. As if that could be brushed off in any way by some disgustingly shallow and self-centred attempt at self preservation of his reputation. Fuck off.
Like Aimsey said, this isn’t some light cancellation from Twitter, these are reprehensible serial misogynistic crimes, and it’s only been days since the initial reveal and hours since his response and the influx of victims speaking up. My heart breaks to know how much more is going to be unearthed.
So yeah this is basically it, I treat this blog mainly as an archive for fan creations of things I like, but also as a collection of my thoughts. I have been unable to stop thinking about this, and I know that I’ve barely talked about mcyt on here, but I was heavily into dsmp and streamers for a long time. Shubble is insanely bloody brave for doing this, I wish them all the best (and the other victims) in recovering from his behaviour, as well as applauding her for the sheer fucking bravery to make the decision to speak up.
***I’ve seen some people saying Shubble uses they/them pronouns, but most people I’ve seen refer to her with she/her. If I find out she doesn’t use she/her I’ll change this post < Shelby uses she/they
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can i request chil eavesdropping on reader telling marcille about their crush, and getting jealous because he doesn’t realise that it’s him?
distant
…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, miscommunication, marcille being a gossip and izutsumi being petty
…wc! 613
…notes! making this short and sweet. hope you enjoy!!
Even with Chilchuck’s enhanced hearing, it’s difficult to miss Marcille’s loud gasps of shock whenever she hears anything that strikes her very core. You and the elf like to take the chance to gossip with one another when the day comes to a close. Chilchuck personally doesn’t get it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tune in occasionally to something that catches his attention.
With a lowered voice, “actually,” you say, “I have something to admit…”
“Yes?” Marcille matches your volume. Anyone else probably wouldn’t be able to listen in easily, all except Chilchuck. What could even be so interesting that you can only discuss it this way Marcille?
“I think… No, I know for certain I caught feelings for him,” you whisper with a dejected sigh.
Chilchuck freezes in place as he was helping clean plates from the past meal. Izutsumi, who was joining him, spared him a glance. Noticing this, Chilchuck quietly apologises and continues the routine.
…Izutsumi’s foul stare doesn’t stop him from listening in on the conversation more.
“Really?” Marcille whispers, though with her excitement in tow it makes her voice sound shrill, which makes Chilchuck flinch slightly. “You figured it out?”
“Yeah,” you respond with a sigh. “Don’t think he likes me back– it’s like he’s giving me the cold shoulder.”
What? Someone would be stupid enough to be cruel to you? But you’re so sweet! Even observing from a distance, Chilchuck has formed a bit of a soft spot for you. He doesn’t get too close, out of his own rule of not forming interpersonal relationships.
He’d have to give that guy a piece of his mind…
“Ah, but he’s actually really sweet once you peel back the layers, you know?” You continue, confusing Chilchuck further. “He can be so soft, so gentle… But once he realises what he’s doing, he withdraws. He’s so distant.”
“So he’s sending mixed signals?” Marcille confirms.
“Mhm…”
A nasty twinge of jealousy twists in Chilchuck’s chest. Not like he isn’t used to it when it comes to you before. You really care for this guy? And he’s not even being clear with what he wants? Ugh, if only he could see him face to face!
Wait… Could it be someone like Laios? Or Senshi? Laios can be a little out of the loop when it comes to communication… and he wouldn’t doubt anyone would be somewhat enamoured with Senshi’s ability to care for someone.
Fixating on relationships is not what Chilchuck tends to do, but if it’s you, he wants the best for you. He really does, but…
“Oh my God, are you stupid?”
Izutsumi’s voice breaks Chilchuck out of his thoughts, looking up at the younger girl. Her own ear twitches, indicating she also heard the conversation. “They’re obviously talking about you.”
Chilchuck flushes. “What–”
“And you mock me for not being self-aware.”
“I’m not even that–!”
“Gentle?” Izutsumi scoffs. “Says the guy who tenderly carved a woodwork ornament for them. Get real.”
Embarrassment fills Chilchuck up and out of his ears, opening his mouth and closing it cluelessly. “...I’m not doing anything about it.”
“And let them believe you don’t like them at all? Sure, go for it.”
Chilchuck purses his lips hesitantly, putting the plate away. “If they want to confess, they will… I won’t leave them distant.”
Izutsumi only stares with little amusement. Relationships are her bane, but not in the way Chilchuck holds disdain for them. They make people stupid, like how Chilchuck and you are. She sighs wearily, finishing up the chore and returning to where she was relaxing.
You two better get over yourselves fast, if not for your own sakes, then for hers.
#✮ grimm's fics!#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon x reader#delicious in dungeon imagines#dungeon meshi imagines#dungeon meshi x reader#chilchuck#chilchuck tims#chilchuck x reader#chilchuck tims x reader#chilchuck tims imagines#chilchuck imagines
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The Favor 3
hey... :) I know I've kept you waiting and I'm ready to hand her over to you. Here is the long awaited part 3!
Check out our Patreon for early access to new parts and 100+ Exclusive writings
The Favor Masterlist
WC- 10k
Warnings-dom/sub dynamic, oral sex, sprinkle of degradation, soft Dom h, face fucking, hair pulling, choking, h's filthy mouth, cumplay, etc.
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Y/N still had shaky knees by the time she got home that night. They hadn’t gone much further than that, his lips giving her a reward of kisses on her lips and neck as he had her lounge in his lap. To get used to his touch, he had claimed. It didn’t matter to her considering she felt like she was a bit touch starved and he was happy to supply his fix.
Danny wasn’t a bad boyfriend. She didn’t want to paint him in a bad light- but he didn’t do all the things she had originally expected. He didn’t cuddle her as often as she’d liked and claimed he ‘slept hot’ so he didn’t hold her in his sleep when she slept over. A year into their relationship and she was thinking maybe he was just getting a bit too comfortable.
She was trying not to let it go to her head, how good it had felt to have Harry’s big hands on her body and little kisses pressed to her. How he had been gentle but dominant with her, reminding her to give her his eyes, his words, her lips. He’d kissed her like it was his job and made her head spin, but she figured he must have a lot of good practice on how to be a good kisser.
When the phone rang the next day and she saw it was Danny, part of her didn’t want to answer. She still felt off about the fact he was okay with someone else touching her so intimately and made her feel so bad about wanting things in the bedroom, but the thing that bothered her the most was just how much she liked Harry touching her. She didn’t know much more about him but he had planned on her coming over to see him this weekend. They were going to actually play a little bit and that excited her to no end. There was no idea on what it was exactly they were going to do, but she knew she would do it for him.
“Hi.” She said when she finally picked up on one of the last few rings. “Sorry, I’m making food.” It wasn’t a lie. The water was on for pasta.
“It’s okay. I was just calling to ask how it went.” He said easily. It stung a bit, honestly. She clenched her jaw, unsure how he could be okay with her sleeping with someone else. Did he not know how intimate it was? How safe she had to feel? Clearly not, or she doubted he would let her do this.
“Went good. He’s really nice and patient.” She mumbled.
“Oh, good. He’s a good guy, even if his tastes are questionable.”
The girl felt herself stiffen. What the fuck? That wasn’t nice to say. Not about Harry and not about her. She was going to him for her ‘questionable’ tastes, and he never made her feel bad about it.
“Yeah, well. I’m seeing him this weekend. We’re taking the learning thing slow.” Her fingers picked at the hole in her jeans. “I just wanted to let you know. I’m not really… Comfortable sleeping with two people at once. So I think we need to hold off on our sex together while I do this.” It made her feel icky. Not that there was anything wrong with it, per say. But she didn’t like the idea of him touching her right after Harry.
“Oh.” He paused. “Okay. That’s fine. Are you still coming out to the bar this weekend though? Or are you and Harry going to be in his sex dungeon.” Now she was irked. Part of her had hoped for maybe a tiny smidge of jealousy. Maybe showing that he cared that she would be spending a lot of time with another man- but nothing. He breezed right past it. He also talked about Harry in a way she didn’t like the more it happened. Reducing him as solely a man who was a sexual deviant wasn’t nice, or true. He had a dog, he did woodworking, he had a nice house and obviously a good job. He liked music, had vintage band posters in immaculate condition hung up in his hallway. It wasn’t just about who or what he did in the bedroom.
“Don’t know. I’ll ask Harry.” She mumbled. Since she seemed to be his fucking girl for the time being. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, yeah?”
There was barely any time to hang up before she sniffled, eyes closing as she tried to fight the tears. She’s really hoped that maybe she would get an inkling of care or jealousy out of him. He must not have a clue about any of the things they were going to do, the trust it involved, the intimacy. Harry was teaching her slowly and he was gentle and kind while also keeping the dominant persona up. It made her melt.
So instead of calling her boyfriend back and crying to him, she took her phone out to text Harry.
Y/N: hiiiiii.
H: Hello.
Y/N: I had a question if that’s okay?
H: I have an answer, hopefully. Shoot.
Y/N: what exactly did you have in mind for this weekend?
Y/N: am I staying multiple days?
Y/N: trying to figure out the packing situation. :-)
Harry smiled down at his phone in his office. He was doing some emails but had abandoned them when he saw her name flash on his screen. He was thankful to hear from her, even more so that she was thinking about this weekend. She wasn’t having second thoughts.
H: Yes, multiple days. I was thinking you sleep at mine Friday and Saturday, spend some of the Sunday with me.
H: it’s up to you ultimately. In this situation, you’re in charge with how much or how little time you want to spend with me. It isn’t all going to be whips and chains, perhaps some food breaks in between.
Y/N: he’s got jokes?
H: a few. Don’t tell anyone. I can’t lose my mysterious persona.
Y/N: my lips are sealed.
Y/N: I told Danny I wasn’t going to have sex with him while I’m doing stuff with you.
Y/N: we didn’t do it a lot anyways but it feels wrong to do that when we’re doing the things we do. Is that okay?
Was it okay? Harry could feel the smirk on his face, painted there without his permission. It shouldn’t feel so good that she cut him off in order to spend time with him, but it did. He was still astounded that he was willingly letting this happen but now that he’d had a taste of Y/N, he wanted to continue. He’d teach her everything there was to know.
H: It’s perfectly fine. Anything that makes you comfortable, remember?
H: it’s probably best, anyways. You went for your testing, yes?
Y/N: yes sir 🫡 bright and early. Should have the results by Friday!!!
H: perfect. I’ve got mine done up too. You’re still on birth control too?
Y/N: mhm, I’ve got an IUD.
H: ouch. I heard those hurt to put in. But thank you for telling me.
Y/N: it sure isn’t fun. We should probably be put to sleep but they don’t care lol
H: I know. It’s a shame. I’m sorry that it hurt.
Y/N: it’s okay :-) no oopsie baby for me!!!
Y/N: are you planning to… you know… inside me?
That was something she hadn’t thought about, but the thought was making her hot now. She’d never not used a condom before, always heard it was messy to not, but something about it felt… erotic. Like being marked and claimed. Something that he could play into when they were doing a scene.
H: if you’d be comfortable with it, I’d love to. But it’s up to you. It’s your body and I respect what you want with it.
Yep. He had decided that he wanted to do that with her. Already he was breaking his normal limits but the idea had a strong hold on him. Especially knowing now that she wasn’t going to be sleeping with anyone else while they were together, it made him feel even more inclined to bend the rules he usually made for her. It was just… he wanted to give her everything. Let her experience the true intimacy of it. Plus he couldn’t deny the idea made him hard as stone.
H: though… overshare? I am partial to the idea of watching your cunt drip with my cum.
Y/N: I hope you know I’m blushing.
She was more than blushing. She was starting to get wet from the mere mention of it. Harry seemed to like to be blunt that way and there was something so hot about it, he had no fear of saying what he wanted. No matter how crass it may be.
Y/N: I think I’d like that, though. If everthing is good with my results- which they should be fine- I’m okay with that. I’ve never done it.
Harry felt himself twitch in his pants behind his desk. A groan audibly left his mouth as he placed his phone down for a moment, running his hand over his face. He shouldn’t like the knowledge he would be the first one bare inside of her. He would be the first one to cum in her. Fuck, he hated how much he loved the idea of it. This wasn’t his girl, wasn’t his to keep, but he was playing pretend like she was.
H: good to know, pet. I’m excited to explore with you.
H: you’re a lot of fun, you know that?
Y/N: I didn’t know that :-) thank you for telling me. I’m really looking forward to seeing you this weekend.
H: the feeling is mutual, darling. Very much so.
—-
Y/N felt the familiar tingle of nerves when she pulled into his house. He’d given her the gate code this time, which she punched in and drove herself through as the house took away her breath again. What she wouldn’t do to live in a house like this. It was a Pinterest dream.
Parking her car to the side, she grabbed her duffle bag and rounded the side to find Harry waiting at his garage door once again.
God, he was handsome.
He wore an open baby pink button up with a white tank top underneath and black trousers sitting higher up on his waist. His smile was soft as he watched her approach, stubble a bit more grown out than she remembered and his hair tousled in a sexy off hour type of vibe. To put it lightly, he looked like a model off duty and she felt a bit intimidated. This man found her attractive? She wasn’t insecure that way, but it was admittedly a stroke to her ego.
“Hi, Darling.” He hummed, reaching out to take her bag from her. “Drive alright?” His eyes scanned over her in appreciation. A dress, one that flirted over her thighs. A soft pink with a subtle floral pattern, cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, flat shoes and a little pearl necklace. “You look adorable.” She really did. The picture of flirty innocence, making him heat slightly when he realized she wore this for him. She had to of, considering he was the person she planned on spending the day with.
“You think?” The girl beamed, looking down at her outfit. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure what to wear or what the plans were. I wanted to look… presentable.” She could feel her cheeks warming from how intently he looked at her. It was unlike what she was used to, like he was drinking in the details. If he looked at her like this now, how would she feel when she was completely bare? “The uh, the drive was alright. Thanks for asking.” She looked at her bag on his shoulder. “You didn’t have to take the bag, I can carry it!”
“Cute. No, my mother raised me right. Shouldn’t be carrying a thing, especially when you’re coming to stay with me.” He extended a hand. “C’mon, so you don’t catch a chill. Buttons is waiting for you.” The way her face lit up at the mention of his dog made something in his insides soften, her delicate hand slipping into his own and trusting him to lead. Harry knew he was lucky to spend this sort of time with her, and he wasn’t going to risk wasting a moment. All he’d been able to think about during the week was how she had felt under his palms.
As expected, his hand was dropped as they got inside and he said the release command for Buttons, letting her say hello to the excited animal. He whined and went in circles as Y/N giggled, brushing her hands over him and telling him in a soft voice that she had missed him so much. He had to check himself when he found it a bit too cute. Seeing her be this sort of soft was beyond attractive. “Do you want me to put this away on my own, or did you want to come with me?” He said after a few moments.
“Oh! May I come?” She looked up at him with soft eyes, kneeling on the floor. The vision was marred by his own filthy vision, imagining this exact scenario with a vibrator tucked inside of her needy pussy, tears in her eyes and his cock slipped from her mouth. He felt himself twitch in his trousers, trying to clear the rasp he knew would follow.
“There she goes. Asking for permission already.” His hand came down to stroke her hair, watching her eyes widen as she saw exactly what it was that she said. Her mouth opened to apologize, but he merely shook his head. “I like it, sweetheart. You look good like this.”
Y/N was burning between her thighs. It was the fastest she thinks she’d ever been aroused in her life. There was an intensity that radiated from him and a heat that crackled between them at her body reacted to his words. She hadn’t meant it like that, no. It was her trying to be polite, but this view was to her favor, too. Seeing him tower over her, his hand stroking her hair like she was the pet, feeding into a bit of a fantasy she had barely explored. That was the point of them, wasn’t it? It was just…. Y/N hadn’t expected for it to feel so good right off the bat. Had tried to write off their kisses and exchange last time as just initial excitement. It was clear now that it was far more than that. “Sorry.” She peeped, unsure of what else to say.
“None of that.” His scold was gentle as he twirled a lock of hair around his finger. “No apologizing when you’ve done nothing wrong. You’re being a good girl for me already, Y/N.” The praise was sweet falling from his lips, smirk growing as he watched her clench her thighs in what she thought was probably a discreet manner. Buttons had ran off to his toy basket to play, losing interest once Y/N’s hands had fallen from him, but she stayed in her position. Did she even realize what a natural she was at this? When she’d expressed concerns about ‘not being good’ at this last time after this kissing had slowed, he’d been positive she was the perfect person for it- but this proved it.
The girl took a shaky inhale, smile painting her lips as she looked up at him with hesitancy. “May I get up?” Testing it out. It was difficult because all she wanted to do was please him, and she knew he’d written out terms but… she’d just walked in. It hadn’t been her intention to fall right into it, but they had. She wasn’t quite sure what to say about that.
Raspberry lips twitched as he let out a breathy laugh, nodding his head. “Very nice. Yes, you may. C’mon.” His hand was extended to hers and he helped lift her up, steadying her as she blinked at him. He merely gave her a comforting look before taking her hand in his again and leading her up the stairs. “Now, I’ve got two options. You can stay in the guest room, settle in there… or you can stay in my room, with me.” It was a loaded question, he knew. “You’re welcome to change your mind about either at any time, of course. It’s up to you.”
Y/N hadn’t expected the option to actually sleep in his bed with him. That felt… intimate. More intimate than she would have thought, but from what she had been taught so far? The whole thing was intimate. They weren’t doing just a scene, he was teaching her about this lifestyle and she felt excitement bubble in her tummy at the prospect of waking up next to him. He treated her so nicely like this. Surely, he was going to be a bit mean when they played and she craved that- but she had been craving that sort of intimacy desperately. Was it wrong to get her fill whilst she was here?
“May I sleep with you?” She asked with slight hesitation. It was also up to him, and though he had offered, she wanted to know his own preferences. “Is that something you’d like?” It was his house, she didn’t want to put him out.
And truthfully? Usually, he didn’t really care either way. Sometimes he got a bit itchy for alone time when it came to other arrangements he’d had but the man really couldn’t imagine being sick of Y/N. Not wanting to rub his hands all over her and have unadulterated access to her. To see her sleepy and soft in the morning light, see how he could mold her into his own body and possibly have a bit of morning sex. “I’d enjoy it if you did, yes.” He hummed, trying not to show his bias too much. Ultimately it was her decision to make.
“Okay.” She looked at him cautiously. “Then… I think I’d like to do that. Please.” Adding in the extra manners surely seemed to work in her favor, his smile brightening at it. It made her tummy flip flop, watching him look at her like that. It made her want to get more of it.
He’d shown her the guest room she could use anyway in case she wanted time apart from him- though he hoped that wouldn’t be the case- before opening the double doors to his bedroom.
It was a bit of a grand show off way, but he’d always liked the look of a suite. The doors opening and a tiny mini foyer before a hallway, opening up to the large bedroom. Hardwood floors and cream colored walls, a walk in closet to the left and the bathroom to the right as they walked through the hall, which he pointed out. His actual bedroom was quite large, with a fireplace, television, bookcase, large windows… the bed was on an elevated platform with four posters at the end. Her mind buzzed, knowing it was the perfect set up to tie her up. Leave her helpless. The dark red bedding popped against the cream and hardwood, somehow fitting his personality perfectly. It was clean, comfortable, but lived in.
“Wow, Harry. It’s gorgeous.” Her hand left his as she walked further into the room and looked at whole thing. The loveseat by the windows and bookcase, the incredible view over the hills. It was hard to imagine what this house would cost, but she had to think it was way more than she could fathom. He walked up to the bed and placed her bag there, arms crossed as he watched her pad across the room and take in details.
He liked the sight of her here. Her hair falling down her back and bouncing as she moved, she enjoyed the decor he put up and told him so. Harry did wonder if it was smart, keeping her in here with him. If he wasn’t going to set himself up for something painful considering he already felt a bit more for the girl than he should, but he couldn’t stop himself. Rationally he knew that she would probably go back to Danny after this was over and she had her ‘fill’ but… part of him hoped she wouldn’t. Even if she wasn’t with him, but someone who would give her what she wanted. What she needed. All without making her feel poorly about herself.
His hands itched as he watched her bend over to look at a photo frame on the bookcase, eyes falling down to her dress as it rode up and exposed the softness of her thighs. It was short, the dress, and he wondered if she’d done it on purpose. What she was wearing underneath all of it. Part of his mind wanted desperately to call her over, taunt her about the fact she was teasing him and fuck her throat as a ‘punishment’- but he didn’t want to scare her by moving too quickly. Instead, he would give himself a reward for his self control.
“Y/N? Come here please.” He stood by the bed and watched as she perked up, trotting over to him with a questioning look on her face. She didn’t do a thing to stop him as his hand cupped her chin, tilting her face up so he could look at her. “You’re still happy to be here, yeah?” His voice was soft as he tried to read her reactions.
It was hard for her to think when he held her this way, but she nodded insistently. “Of course. I’ve… I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” She admitted. It had been the whole week of texting and check-ins to make sure she had good days at work and it had become a routine she really liked. Their kissing and his firm tone had haunted her mind the entire time, making her crave more of it.
“Yeah? You have?” He hummed. “Should have known. You’ve been a sweet girl since I’ve met you, but… I didn’t expect this out of you.” His thumb ran over her bottom lip. “It’s a welcome surprise. Though I never thought I’d find myself in this position with you… I’m glad you’re trusting me enough to help guide you.” It made him feel really fucking good, honestly. Yes, Danny may have suggested it but she was the one with the choice. “I just want to remind you that if you’re ever uncomfortable, you safe word for me. If you want me to stop, tell me. If I’m too mean and you’re hurt, if anything I do hurts past the point of pleasure, if you’re panicking? Stop me. I’ll never, ever be angry with you for doing that.”
Y/N seemed to be the type to try and push through true discomfort to appease people. He didn’t want that with him. Of course, he would be pushing many limits. Physically and emotionally. But he didn’t want to cross those. It was a large responsibility any time he took a sub, but this was the biggest one yet. Someone he already knew and cared for, even if it was minor- and it was her first time dipping her toe into it. He was setting the tone for her experiences. It was a bit scary, though he’d never tell her that, but he was up for the challenge. “Promise me you’ll do that. For me. Not just as a dominant but as your friend and someone who cares for you.” He sighed, giving her a firm look.
“Promise. I promise, Harry.” She murmured, understanding the gravity of what he said. He took her safety seriously and he cared for her. “I’ll be a good girl for you. Swear it.”
Harry grinned, nodding his head. “I know you’ll be a good girl for me, pet. Knew it since you’ve walked in. You jus’ want to make me happy, don’t you?” His tone shifted, just slightly enough to make her body buzz. It was smooth, something reminiscent of last time she was here. At her nod, he let out a breath and smeared his thumb over her bottom lip again. “Good. You know…. Been thinking about these all week.” Her mouth, she realized. Something turned in her stomach and erupted into butterflies, eyes on his face as she tried to decipher what was going on in his mind. “M’gonna feed you and make sure you’re comfortable in a moment, but can I taste you again?” He hummed. “Do I need permission to kiss you this weekend, or is it something you’ll let me take as I please?”
The butterflies melted in her stomach, settling lower and heated her body up in a way she knew was arousal. Excitement. He was still so careful with her, tender, but she couldn’t wait until he was… less so. Until he took what he wanted, like he said, made her bend to his will. Told her what to do. Boss her around. But she understood he couldn’t read her mind and how she was fucking gagging for him to use her, to touch her, so she nodded.
“Words, Pet. Remember?” He raised an eyebrow and made her breathing catch as his grip on her face tightened.
“Sorry- sorry. Yes. You can… you can do whatever you want. I like when you kiss me.” She peeped, knowing that she was handing herself over to the man on a silver platter with all the dressings. “I want that.”
“There we go.” He cooed. “So good. Thank you for correcting that- don’t make me remind you again.” His face got closer to hers. “I’m glad our wants seem to be in agreement.”
Y/N’s brain went haywire as his lips pressed to hers before it went quiet. So quiet, so smooth as his mouth sipped at hers ever so gently before applying a bit more pressure. Her face was still firmly held between his fingers as he kissed her, her hands falling to his button up and curling into the fabric as she did her best to return the kiss the way he wanted. She’d never been kissed like this, where it was so abundantly clear that he was in charge. There was no fighting for dominance- Harry owned her mouth.
When he pulled away, the whimper fell from her mouth and she pouted as he chuckled, wiping his thumb over the corner of her mouth to clean her up. “S’okay, darling. Don't want you too worked up yet.” He brushed his nose against yours. “M’gonna take good care of you and your needy cunt. Don’t worry about that. But I’ve got to get you unpacked and some food in your belly before I can make you cum. Need your strength.” He sighed, pressing one last peck to her lips before pulling back. “C’mon. I’ve got a drawer cleaned out for you and the second sink is yours.
Y/N followed him on wobbly knees, wondering just how fucked she was going to be when this is how she felt from mere kisses.
—-
Dinner was eaten with a comfortable chatter between the two of them. It was surprisingly easy to just…. Be. Harry was a comfortable person to be around and she thought maybe that’s why she felt the way she did for him. Preening at his praise for her new project she shared with him, like a pup waiting for a biscuit. She’d trailed him around the house, going outside with him to take Buttons on his walk after he ate dinner where he had shown her around his yard. His pool, jacuzzi, garden, the tennis court and rock climbing wall- he seemed to have the works, and she was very jealous. What she wouldn’t do to live in this sort of house. Thankfully she was spending time here now, getting to pretend this was her life.
Standing on the deck, he whistled for Buttons to come back to them before turning to Y/N. “Think we’re getting close to having our fun together.” He hummed. “Tonight we’ll play a bit, get a feel for each other. Tomorrow, I’ll take you out for lunch. Then I was thinking…” he crossed his arms over his body and Y/N gawked at his arms. He was incredibly fucking hot. “I’ll take you to the toy shop. Let you pick something out to try. S’that something you’d be comfortable with?”
Y/N had to admit she didn’t expect him to do any of that. Not take her out, nor to a sex shop to get a toy for her, but the thought made her dizzy. It was so nice of him, so thoughtful, and still slightly dirty. She loved the idea, really, especially to spend time with him. “Yeah! I’ve never… I’ve never been to one of those before.” Her admittance was quiet. “Always been too nervous to go on my own. He never liked the idea of going even just to look, so I’m excited that you’d be willing to take me.”
God, Danny was a pussy, wasn’t he? You didn’t even have to be into kinky shit to go to a sex shop. Harry felt for her. Having that urge, that itch to scratch, and feeling like no one around you would accept you for it had to be an uncomfortable and lonely feeling. “Well I have a favorite shop and money to be spent. So allow me to treat you this weekend, yeah? More than happy to do it and let you experience new things.”
Y/N felt guilt at the prospect of him spending money on her, but he didn’t seem to be the type to take no for an answer. He’d had dinner ready for them, had helped her unpack her bag, ultimately taken care of her since she’d walked into the house. Even wiped the corner of her lip when she’d gotten a bit of sauce on it. It came so naturally between them that she knew she should probably be a bit concerned but she couldn’t be. Not with how good it felt. “Okay. I can- I hope you don’t feel forced fo pay for me. I have money I can spend too.” She peeped. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage or anything. You’re the one helping me.”
Harry clicked his tongue, brushing it off. “Well you’re the one letting me get wrapped in that snug little cunt eventually, yeah? Letting me throw you around a bit and have fun with you… so, that’s enough reason for me to want to do it.” He turned to her and pulled her against him, making her meet his eyes again. “For the time you’re alone with me, you’re mine. You told him he can’t touch you while you’re with me, yeah? M’the only one getting access to you like this?”
“Yes, sir.” She breathed, feeling herself melt in his grip. His tone had changed and she felt it between her thighs as he held the back of her neck.
“Then that settles it. I take care of what’s mine.” His mouth pressed to hers, stealing a kiss from her lips. “You’ve been doing well tonight. I think I want to play with you a bit now. Go upstairs to the bedroom and sit on your knees, right next to the bed. Hands in your lap.” The visible perk up made him want to smile, but he kept his face straight. Y/N was the prettiest thing, and he was more than looking forward to touching her now.
Y/N was more than eager, pushing past the nerves and nearly jogging up the stairs as she made her way to his room. He’d lock the house up and settle Buttons for the night, and she would wait patiently for him.
The hardwood was cold against her knees, but she did as he asked. Kneeling with her hands in her lap, she tried not to let her mind wander. Instead, she looked around the room and bought time as it rolled by. It was a bit uncomfortable, she couldn’t lie. She had to shift around, but the pain excited her a little bit. Her eyes had kept going to the clock by the bed, watching as 10 minutes passed. Each one made her more and more squirmy with the anticipation, but by the 13th minute she could hear his footsteps approaching and she settled into the final position, watching him walk towards her.
The man looked tall. Powerful. Someone she had to give into. She craved it. He stopped right in front of her, a gentle hum leaving his lips as he looked down, his hand coming over her head to caress her lightly. “Look at what a good listener you are, pet.” He murmured, fingers finding her cheek and brushing over them as she gave him her eyes. “This is a beautiful sight to walk into. S’where you belong, isn’t it?” His voice was… different. It held a different tone to it, a cadence that he didn’t have when speaking in other instances. It made her wet. “Belong on your knees, waiting for me to tell you what to do. Gorgeous”. He sighed, appreciating the view he had.
“Yes, sir.” She whispered, mouth suddenly dry as her hands itched to grab his belt and pull him closer so she could feel more of his body heat.
“You remember your safe word, sweetheart?” He asked, watching as she nodded. When she didn’t say anything else, his hand fisted her hair and tugged back, making her gasp loudly at the slight sting. It only made her feel hotter, mouth opening but failing to say anything. “What have I told you, hm? Told you to stop with the nodding and use your words, like a good girl.” He warned.
“M’sorry, I’m sorry sir. Yes, I remember.” She winced as the grip on her hair lessened, missing it a little bit as his lips twitched up. Why had she liked that so much? He’d stolen her breath with that move, and they’d only just begun.
“There we are. Don’t make me ask you again, or m’not gonna be as nice.”’he smoothed her hair back, taking a step forward. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to do with you. It’s exciting, you know? Having free reign over your body. A big responsibility, but it’s one I welcome.” Harry loved it now, seeing her reactions to him. She was doing her best to be good already. “It’s hard to plan when there’s so many things I want to show you. But I think we can have some of the basics now. Make use of those hands and take off my belt.”
Y/N’s shaky hands gripped the belt and slipped the tongue through the loop, the metallic sound filling the otherwise quiet room. Getting the latch undone, she began to pull at it and watched as the leather ran through the loops until the accessory was off of his body. He didn’t say anything, merely stepping closer to her. So close that her mouth was inches away from his groin, making her excitement build. He was hard. She could see it, the print of him through the fabric, and she wanted to touch.
“Look what you’ve done to me, darling. Got me hard just thinking about the filthy things M’gonna do to you.” He murmured, using his grip on her hair to pull her closer to him. Her nose brushed against his cock, Harry pressing her face against his pants with little effort. “Give me some kisses. Show me how much you want it.”
One thing was certain- Y/N was eager. The man watched as she nodded, lips pursing against the fabric as she kissed from the base all the way to the tip. Her breath was warm and leaked through the fabric, making his stomach tighten a bit. What got him was the fact that he could tell she enjoyed this, even being nervous. She continued, keeping her hands in her lap like the good girl she was for him. “There’s my good girl.” He cooed. “Do you want to take them off? Want to make me feel good and wrap those puffy lips around my cock, suck me down?” He mumbled, watching as she nodded- though she paired it with words this time.
“Yes, sir, I’d really like to. I want to make you feel good. May I?” She was a dream, really. Looking at him with pleading eyes, making him want to groan at how lucky he was to get such an eager little thing. He got to explore her fantasies with her and that was an honor.
“You may. Go ahead and take my pants off- but don’t touch my cock until I tell you to.” Harry was impressed thus far. Y/N was doing an incredible job, and he could see it on her face. How she was leaning into this, that she was a natural at it. Like she was slipping right into a roll she was made for. Her hands were shaky as they pulled his zipper down, fingers gently tugging at the waistband and leading them down his hips. He didn’t offer much help, watching as they were quickly pulled down to his ankles and she looked back up at him, making him lift his leg to let her slip them off completely. “Excellent.” He praised, watching as her fingers went to his briefs but stopped, eyes widening as she caught herself. He hadn’t asked her to take those off.
“I’m impressed.” He smiled, watching as she stayed where she was. “You were about to do something I didn’t ask for but you remembered. M’glad you caught that.” He could feel himself throbbing in his briefs though, and he desperately wanted her mouth on him. He’d been dreaming about it for days. “Go on. You can take those off.” Harry was arrogant at times, but the swell of his ego was massive as she pulled the fabric over his cock and her eyes widened at the sight of him. Her motions of taking the briefs off were even more hurried than the trousers, a little chuckle leaving his mouth. “Take me in your hand, give me a few tugs.”
Y/N was gentle with it, her warm hand shaking slightly as she curled it around the base of his cock. It wasn’t often she would call a dick pretty, but if any she had ever seen deserved that title? It was his. Thick, slightly curved with a ruddy pink tip. Leaking a little bit, making her pant. She wanted it in her mouth. The deprived girl wanted him to push her down on him until her nose brushed the groomed thatch of hair on his groin that led up to a little happy trail. Never in her life had her mouth gotten wet to the point she thinks she could drool over the sight of something, let alone a person. “You’re so pretty, sir.” She whispered, giving him a stroke. He was hot in her hand and she could feel him twitch in her palm, scooting forward on her knees so he was directly in front of her face.
“You think so?” He grinned. “Thank you, baby.”
Baby. Baby. Baby? Y/N liked that nickname a lot. Of course she had been called that before, but something about hearing it from him in this context made her whine. Audibly whine, embarrassing the fuck out of her as she hadn’t meant to do it out loud.
“Oh, you like that then? Sweet little baby.” The man crooned, stroking her hair back. “I have to admit… I didn’t expect you to be gagging for it like you are. But I’m pleasantly surprised.” He watched her pull his cock again, stroking with a gentle squeeze that made him exhale harder. “Prettiest baby, gagging for my cock. Are you going to let me down that throat, hm? Choke on me a little bit?” He purred, watching her eyes widen. “I know you will. But first, I want you to give me some kisses.” He was taunting her a little and he knew that, but he wanted to watch her squirm.
“Yeah- I, I really want it Sir. I wanna make you happy.” She rubbed the tip over her lips, his precum wetting them in a filthy vision that had Harry wanting to curse. “Just tell me what to do. I’ll listen.” Soft, hot lips began to kiss up the length of him. Wet kisses, her lips curling around the sides as she pulled back and kissed the other side as well. She wasn’t precise with it, choosing instead to let herself be a little sloppy with her kisses and watch his reaction.
“You are. Doing so fucking well, pet.” His praises made her smile against his length, which really was the filthiest, most lovely thing he’d ever seen. “You really are dirty, aren’t you? Don’t want to pull away from my cock so you smile on it. Do you think you can do it with me stuffed in your throat?” Realistically he knew she couldn’t- but her answer pleased him anyway.
“I’ll try anything for you.” She blinked up at him, resting the tip at her lips as she smattered kisses around the sensitive area. It took everything in her not to peek her tongue out and lick over the slit, but she had to be good for him. That’s all she wanted.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He mumbled, watching her give him her best pleading look. “Since you can’t safe word with me in your mouth, pinch my thigh if you don’t want any more. I’m going to let you start, but I’ll take control shortly after.” There was a pause. “M’gonna be gentler because it’s your first time with me, but in the future I’ll push you to your limits. Remember what I told you.” He’d never be angry or upset if she wanted to stop.
Y/N took the permission though, quickly pulling the head of his cock into her mouth and humming in relief. She’d been dreaming about this all week, just as he had. When he’d initially put her on her knees for him the first time they’d met up, she had hoped this would be the case/ but it was worth the wait with his fingers carding through her hair and taking a handful at the back of her head, loosely waiting as she sucked.
She loved oral. Really, she did, but there was something about Harry that made her all the more excited to do this for him. Perhaps it was the praise or just his energy, but she could feel the dull throbbing of her clit as she took a bit more of him down.
“Pretty mouth.” He mumbled, wiping the corner of her stretched lips was she got a bit messier. “Been thinking about it, having you here. Love that you’re eager for it. Are you this much of a cockslut for everyone else?” She tried her best to deny it, a muffled ‘mm-‘mm’ leaving her throat as she tried to take more of him down. “No? Only for me?” This was easier to confirm, bobbing her head a little bit. Harry let out a hiss as he watched her take more, the first tear slipping from her eyes without permission. He was making her eyes water already.
“M’glad to hear that. This is going to be your favorite cock, I bet.” He started to take over now, pushing her hand away. “Behind your back- good, perfect listening.” He praised, slowly pushing her further down on his length. “This is where you’re going to dream about being. On your knees for me, a bit helpless. But I think…. Fuck.” His eyes clenched shut for a moment as she gagged on him. He watched for any sign to stop, but she merely opened her wet eyes and looked up at him. “I think you like being a helpless little thing. You want me to use you.” He was getting down to it now, thoroughly impressed- but he felt her hand come up and tap his thigh, immediately pulling back. The girl let out a choked noise, Harry pausing and stroking her hair back, looking down in concern. “Okay, baby?” He whispered, watching her wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. “Need a break?”
“Y-yeah I’m okay. We can keep going but...” Her voice was hoarse. “I just- I couldn’t take anymore.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I’m sorry. I wanted to take all of it. I tried-“ she was immediately cut off with Harry cooing at her, lifting her head up and his face bent down to look at her.
“None of that. It’s okay, darling.” He smiled. “M’just a bit too big for you to take yet. I know. It’s disappointing but…. You’ll learn.” He thumbed away a tear. “We can work on training that throat to take what it was made for. Okay?” Despite how dirty his words could be, he was still comforting her. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re only just now learning how to be the little whore you’ve always wanted to be.” He got down further, pulling her face up for a messy kiss before straightening up. “How about this. You’ll let me fuck your mouth, but I won’t try and make you take it all. Really want to cum on this pretty face, been aching for it all day.”
Y/N was burning from his words, the lack of air, her throat. All of it felt good, though. She loved how he spoke to her, the zip of the degrading ruining her panties. She’d been so disappointed in not being able to take all of him, but she liked the idea he proposed. Training her. It made her think about spending more time with him. Sure, it was supposed to be a short term thing but… she was going to take her time if this was the only shot she had of living out her fantasy.
“Sound good to you, pet? You think you can handle it?”
“Yes, sir. Please fuck my mouth.” She whimpered, aching for him to get back into it.
And he did. Fuck, he really did.
Harry was gentle at first, scooping her hair up into a makeshift ponytail. She was kneeling on the bed platform, giving her more ease to suck at the level she was at and him the ability to move her as he pleased. At first he pulled her down onto his prick, easing her into it. Giving some semblance of choice- but when she proved she could take him, he began to truly fuck her mouth.
He wasn’t brutal, no. It wasn’t exactly what she expected- it was better. Firm with his strokes but only pushing her to the limit, making he drool around his cock as her hands were held behind her back. Her arms were starting to ache a bit from holding the position but she liked the burn. She liked that he held her head still while she laid her tongue flat and let him thrust into her mouth, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back in. Even more so, she loved how he talked to her.
“There she is. This is what my greedy pet wanted, isn’t it?” He purred, eyes dark as he looked down at her. “Taking it so well. Messy little thing.” His gaze was hooded as he pushed her down as far as he knew she was comfortable, pushing a bit and making her throat flex around him as he let out a deep groan that went straight to her cunt. “Fuck, yes. Work that little throat for me. Fucking perfect.” He hissed.
It was hard to see with her eyes tearing up but what she did see was perfection. Seeing him lose that control as he watched her swallow his cock, her lips strained from being wrapped around it. Her jaw was going to ache something fierce but it was worth it.
“Look so innocent, but you’re a deprived whore behind closed doors. Fucking love it, you know that?” He breathed. “Letting me show you how good it feels… how it’s good to let go and be the brainless slut you want to me. Just hand all that control over to me, open that pretty mouth and do what you were born to do. Pleasure me.” He was testing the dirty talk, giving her a glimpse of the degradation she had asked for but not go too hard into it. With each sentence he could see her clenching her thighs, he could feel how she sucked harder over him as he spoke. She liked it.
Harry was in heaven. Of course he’d expected a bump in the road, multiple really, considering no dynamic was perfect right off the bat- but Y/N was taking to it really well. He’d been impressed with how much of him she could take, the fact she wanted her mouth fucked, and to be honest? She was good. Sloppy, her inexperience in this showing, but really fucking good. He’d happily train her mouth and throat to take him all the way, but this was just as good. His head was swimming in pleasure, her hair tight in his hand as he watched her saliva drip down her chin and onto her poor dress, how she took it without complaining. The girl was a goddamn dream, and he knew this had been the right decision.
“Messy little baby. Making a fucking mess on my cock and your dress. It’s a good thing you’re not going to need to wear it for much longer.” He smiled, looking a bit drunk.Y/N loved being the one to make him look like that. “Really, you’re not gonna… not gonna need much clothing with me. Doubt you’ll want to wear any with how needy you are. Gonna bend over and offer yourself up to me.” He is breath hitched as he pushed deep, letting himself hold it there before pulling out and letting her cough. Y/N, the filthy thing, smiled at him with her wet eyes and soaked chin.
“Yes, Sir.” She breathed. “I want you to cum. Please…” she moaned as he rubbed the wet head of his cock over her cheek, painting it with her spit and his precum. She knew she had to look a mess, but Harry was giving her a look that made her feel like she was going to be devoured. “Please, I’ve been a good girl. I took you, I’ll keep getting better- I want your cum.” Her voice turned that tiny tinge whiny, just like he had predicted.
“You really are a cockslut. Should I add cumslut to your list of names too?” He chuckled in disbelief. His hand stroked firmly over his prick, smearing it over her face as her lips pursed to kiss it as it passed over. “Fuck me. Where did that shy little thing go? She’s gone away and left me with a filthy excuse of a pet.” He lowered his voice. “Love that. I think I can give you my cum. M’so close.” He head tipped back slightly as he pushed back into her mouth, taking a few dips in the wet heat. The only thing that could beat this was cumming in her cunt. Watching it drip out- but this would be a very close second.
“Beg me for it.” He ordered, pulling out and stroking right in front of her face. The dominant could feel it it in his balls as they tightened, watching her genuine need. “Be a good little pet, ask me for my load all over your pretty face.”
There was no acting here. “Please, please give me your cum sir.” She whined, panting as she pleaded. “I want it so much, I was a good girl and I- I need it. I want to be messy with your cum, I want to taste it.” She stuck her tongue out for a moment, letting him smack the tip over it a few times before he pulled back again. Wasn’t good enough.
“I’ve been thinking about it and touching myself imagining you all week- and, and I really really want you to cum on me. Make me dirty. I’ll do anything.” Her eyes watered again, “please? Please, sir.”
Harry liked that a bit too much. Y/N was a vision on her knees for him, with her wet face and teary eyes, a glow on her skin that only reminded him of how lucky he truly was to be in this sort of position. He was the first one to give her the things she’d been craving for god knows how long and she truly looked desperate for it. The poor thing was tearing up, falling slightly into that space he had been curious to see just at the prospect of his cum. He couldn’t hold back on her anymore, not when she had been deprived of most of the other things she wanted.
“Tongue out. Stick your fucking tongue out, and give me your eyes.” His words were chased through clenched teeth as he felt his stomach tightening, her pink tongue laid out and her breathing erratic as she nearly whimpered for him as he rubbed the head of his prick over her tongue. His eyes were glued to her, watching a single tear start to slip down her flushed cheeks- and that was it. He’d always been good at holding back his orgasm before but he couldn’t control this one, a heady groan echoing in the room as one hand held her head still whilst the other milked himself of his load. Watching it paint the pad of her tongue, some dripping down her chin as she tried her best to keep it all in her mouth.. She was such a good girl. It was in her nature, he could tell, and he had been the one to experience her first appearance. Her first bloom as she puffed against his cock, staying still while he fisted himself, making sure to drain every last drop from her balls on her waiting tongue. She deserved it. “There we are… there’s my pretty pet. Keep it on your tongue. Don’t swallow.” He could feel his legs slightly weaken as he regretfully pulled himself away. He needed a minute before he could do something else, but already he could feel his heat seeded in his tummy just by the view.
It was hard not to be obsessed with the image.
“Do you want to spit it out, darling?” His voice was softer now, hand that clenched her hair letting go to gently stroke her surely sore scalp. She whined in her throat though, shaking her head as her brows furrowed looking up at him. Christ. “You want to swallow it?” A nod. He’d underestimated just how dirty she was. “Alright, baby. Swallow it then, you were good. Can have what you want.”
Y/N looked up at him obediently, keeping their eye contact as he watched her swollen lips close and her throat bob from her swallowing. Gingerly tipping her head further back, he thumbed the spillage from the corner of her mouth across her lips and pressed inside, dragging the cum over the pad of her tongue and smiling as she gave him an unsure look. “Suck for me. There you go… M’so proud of you.” He cooed, gently pulling her body up to sit on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling, hm? Throat a little sore?” The dominant kneeled between her now split legs, thumbing over her bare knee as he checked in on her.
To be honest, she looked incredible. And he wasn’t just saying that because a dribble of his cum had gotten on her tits. She looked happy. A shy smile on her flushed face and a glow to her skin, eyes hazy and soft, this was the ideal he had for anyone he played with. Happy. He’d gone easy on her to start, but he could only imagine how fucked out he could get her later on down the line. When he pushed her to the limits and she became even more proud of herself for pleasing him, drunk on orgasm and giggly in that space only someone like him could get her to.
“M;okay.” She peeped, cautiously laying her hand on top of his. “Can I hold your hand? Is that okay?”
Harry felt his heart grow a little, smiling fondly as he flipped his hand over to intertwine their fingers. Their joined hands were brought to his mouth and a spattering of kisses was given to her knuckles, a show of appreciation for her and fondness over the cute little shit she did. “Fucking adorable. Y’know that, darling?” He chuckled under his breath. “Need to check in on you though. Make sure you know just how incredibly you did, that you were okay with everything that just happened, if you need anything to change. I went a bit easy on you for our first time.”
Y/N’s head was swimming in a good way. Of course it had been far more intense than any blowie she had ever given but that was the point. Harry had been the one in control all while giving her a little leeway. Her face had been fucked, albeit not as much as she had hoped. Her body was still hot over the idea of him training her throat to take him. There were so many things that should be floating through her head right now but it was hard to think further than Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. He’d been so good to her, given her that taste she had been gagging for and now she knew she wanted more. This feeling was addictive. Maybe her head was swimming from the slight lack of air, but maybe that meant she’d be even more into breathplay than she imagined. Either way, she was happy.
“M’so happy.” She admitted, the rasp of her voice making her toes curl. He had done that to her. “I liked it all. Liked how you pulled my hair, how you talked to me a-and that you just… you fucked my face. I’ve wanted it for ages.” Her face felt hot even admitting that but there was nothing but acceptance and pride on his face as he nodded, lips brushing against her hand. His stubble was scritchy and she liked that. “Was a little disappointed I couldn’t take it all though. You’re… you’re bigger than anyone i’ve been with.”
“Didn’t expect you to.” The man laughed. “I know it’s a lot for your throat, sweetheart. Hasn’t been properly fucked before. Stroking my ego a little with that, but I’m patient. I’ll make sure you can take it soon. Just takes a little practice.” his face leaned closer to hers. “Luckily, I’m full of that when it comes to teaching you. You’re a lot of fun.” His lips pressed against hers chastely, pulling back with a pleased look on his face. “I know you’re probably wanting a little bit of relief, throbbing for me to touch you, aren’t you?” He hummed, watching as she eagerly nodded, blinking at him in hope. However, he wasn’t going to make it that easy for her. “But I think…” The evil little smile on his face made her nervous. “This would be a good time to show you your own bit of patience.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry styles au#the favor#the favorrry#mean dom#dom!h#dom harry styles#soft Dom harry styles#soft Dom Harry#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry smut#harry fluff#harry angst#harry fanfic#harry styles fanfics#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfictions#harry styles one shots
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HII your jaehaera x aegon iii has taken over my brain like OMGGG him & jaehaera >>>> but my request (if your still taking them) is how team green and black see how Aegon iii is infatuated/fixated/in love with Jaehaera. it's moments like Aegon talking to his brothers until he suddenly goes silent, his eyes tracking Jaehaera who's passing by. Or Jaehaera dancing with another man and his jealousy. No matter the situation the way he looks at her is the same. Gentle and tender but intense. Like I need this man to be a devout simp 😩🫡
a/n: thank you so much love!! they have genuinely took over my brain i'm so happy i'm not alone in this lmaoo. now i didn't really have time to write the past few days sadly (which is why other reqs are still pending - sorry guys!), but for this request i actually had something in my drafts that fit to it. i am writing a chaptered fic au for jaehaegon (...and jaehaerys/viserys ii lol) and i've been testing writing interactions for them to get the vibe i want... it changed a lot since then, but this was one of the test fics. i hope you will enjoy it! this is viserys ii pov, but there are lots of mentions to other characters.
It is deep into the night’s feast when he notices Aegon playing with the ruby ring upon his pinky.
Well. Viserys supposes the more proper word is fiddle, though his brother is hardly a restless man. He is far more fitting into the description of rigid, filling the black of his doublets with broad shoulders of deliberate posture and a sense of responsibility.
Or at least so he had been, until their estranged family had come for a visit. Their uncle and aunt had come out of the woodworks that had been Oldtown to request to build a Keep to the west of it. That had been for their son, who had nothing to inherit, as it stands. Viserys’s mother had allowed them to make their case, his father had allowed them to see his smirks, but nothing yet had been set in stone.
It is an art, to convince those who never planned on being convinced. While Prince Aegon the Elder and Princess Helaena had been mostly unsuccessful in their endeavours, their daughter Jaehaera, had entered the court with prideful flare to her step and an ever-determined gaze. One could not say she had charmed his mother and father, but Viserys thinks they had hardly been the ones she had her mind on setting her claws in.
Instead, his own brother, usually so clear-headed and mindful, had his dark purple gaze almost unwaveringly on her. A genuine fool, he thinks. Viserys does not know what the witch has done to make him so dim-witted, but gods be good, she had known her plays.
While her twin and younger brother had sat nearby him at the table for the better of the event, Jaehaera had entered the feast late, much after everyone’s introductions. The announcement of her arrival had music forced to a stop, setting the majority of eyes to the entrance.
A lady pleasing on the eyes would steal a man’s thought, that is evident with his own brother, but a lady with strong enough wit would steal a man’s mind. And as music restarted with the appearance of her smile, and men flocked by her for a dance, Aegon could not be more obvious he had not been at peace, drinking vintage he had prior declared abhorrent.
In truth, Aegon the Younger paralleled Aegon the Elder with the sudden swallow of drinks. And while his brother had been staunchly, unabashedly, moronically staring at Jaehaera, her father had been dead on Aegon the Younger himself, looking just about ready to toss his goblet at him.
The atmosphere from her brothers hadn’t been much better. Sitting between Jaehaerys and Aegon the Younger, Viserys had felt a proper wall of separation. The man beside him may have known he needed to keep quiet if he wanted to get his damned Keep, but he had been looking at his brother with intense scrutiny for days now.
Little Maelor on the other hand had the gall to laugh while remaining within his mask of an innocent lamb. And when he next does, it is at the same time Viserys wishes to sink into his chair and disappear into it from embarrassment.
Some golden-haired man had invited Jaehaera to a dance. Not an unexpected occurrence; dancing does happen in feasts. But while his brother had attempted to busy himself with playing with his food like a child, he lifted his head again when the dance ended - only to see said man holding onto Jaehaera’s gem earrings while speaking to her in proximity that is questionable — and there, his brother had to stand. Literally.
Jaehaera looked towards Aegon in the eye then, as everyone else did, but within capturing her gaze, his mouth had become voiceless despite it being opened ajar.
And he stood there uncomfortably, unable to even cuss the man whose offense he stood up against to begin with. As if he’s going to make a fucking toast, or something. I cannot believe this. Baela had told him and Jace alike that she thinks they may be ought to bind their brother to some post to prevent him from acting up. Jace, kind crown-prince he is, completely dismissed it, but now looking at him, he thinks he too just realized their sister had been right.
Meanwhile mother looked properly frazzled herself, sharing a look with his father that had been so pointed, even King Consort Daemon himself realized he had to give a damn. “Continue the music,” his mother had told the musicians not far away from them, while father had gestured to Aegon to come his way, and now.
Whatever point words their father had decided to rebuke Aegon with, his brother had received them with properly flushed cheeks, should it be from the embarrassment, or the drinking, of whatever blood that didn’t manage to make it to his brain.
Aegon had soon left the table for the grand floor, finding himself some girl to dance with instead. A daughter of one of their loyal courtiers, he believes. Viserys releases a sigh of relief when he sees that. Perhaps now his blood pressure can calm.
His cousin — Jaehaerys, that is — seems to release a lousy scoff.
Viserys turns to him with a frown. “You have something to say?”
Viserys will admit; he is defensive of his brother, as foolish as he may have acted these days. He would not hear giggles or scoffs at him. Jaehaerys, on his part, is unfazed, staring yet still on the floor, and at the dance that has partners swapping left and right.
“There is little to say in this situation, no?” Jaehaerys answers. “Even little that can be done, or prevented, don’t you agree?”
Viserys doesn’t bother acting the fool, but his cousin better not either. “On your side, mayhaps,” he answers. “Your sister will lose you your Keep if this continues, you know this?”
Jaehaerys eyes grow daggered, and he lowers his voice. “There isn’t going to be any damn Keep given from your parents, even if my own ones’ grovel,” he says cutthroat. Viserys stares at him. He knows well enough, huh? “Don’t assume me stupid. Nor should you assume my sister stupid. This had been a losing game since arrival, for the lot of my family… but she’ll cut her losses even in the most futile of dances.”
When Viserys looks back at the dance floor, their siblings are dancing together. Viserys licks his lips. There is something there that can’t be prevented, perhaps, but also something that won’t quite be approved by all of their parents. What would it do, in the long run? Nothing.
“And throwing herself at my brother would be cutting her losses?” he asks back, more sincere than he even planned on sounding. He even tries to pick his words carefully. “It would not do her good either, to end up seeming a… seductress.”
Jaehaerys tsks. “No need to dance around it. I’ll say it as it is, fully and wholly — she has no plans on being your brother’s whore,” he brings a hand forward; the one with six fingers, and lays above the back of Viserys’s hand on the table. His fingers fill the spaces between his, the little extra pinky standing up purposefully. Viserys freezes for a moment, and nearly takes his hand back when Jaehaerys opens his mouth again. “It only takes one extra step to make honey from enticing, to trapping.”
The extra finger curls against Viserys’s palm as Jaehaerys intertwined their fingers, squeezing lightly with a smile. Viserys swallows and only manages to remember to snatch away his hand when Jaehaerys’s chuckle comes along with the brush of his thumb against the side of his palm.
What the fuck. He rises himself from his chair, needing some damn distance. Whatever the fuck his cousins have in mind, they live in their own world, as do their father and their mother.
By the time he manages to absolve himself from the almost scorching feeling of Jaehaerys’s hand on his, the feast is over, and they all go their own ways, Viserys himself remaining rushing to his room.
The morning after, when he sees Jaehaerys’s face again, he has a look in his eye that is ever-knowing. And for a moment, he thinks in mortification it is all about him — but it is not. It is only then, that he starts understanding what her brother truly meant the night prior.
Jaehaera is standing by her twin, smiling absentmindedly and fiddling with a ruby ring on her bony thumb, and his brother, his dear, foolish brother, stares at her with his bare fingers and doting eyes, ready only to give more.
#jaehaegon#jaehaera x aegon iii#aegon iii x jaehaera#viserys ii x jaehaerys#visrys#(???? idk how to tag them)#aegon iii targaryen#jaehaera targaryen#jaehaerys targaryen#viserys targaryen#answered#hotd#hotd fanfic#my fics#reqs#requests#i really have amnesia at how to tag things here lmao#anyway enjoy!
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For the Ratchet and Drift adoption battle.
The Lost light ends up on earth for some reason. And trouble appears, Buddy’s birthparents. Coming out of the woodwork demanding to see their child. Now, depending on how long Buddy has been in the system, the state may have already relinquished their parental rights, but it does bring up another problem, by cybertron standards, Buddy is legally Drifts and Ratchets, Earth standards, less so.
This is just the start of an idea. Maybe it's angst and the parents are a piece of shit who want the child who they abandoned back for some really selfish reason. Maybe the parents truly do want some relationship with their child and poor buddy is just stuck in between the family that loves them and the family who they spent their life wishing loved them.
Maybe I just want the lost light to turn this custody battle into a fucking kangaro court. They show up in their holoforms and Rodimus starts to boo whenever the birth parents try to say something. He’s kicked out and the court goes into recess as they try and figure out how to hold him in contempt of court. Luckily a good part of the remaining crew have assembled to always have someone audibly cough whenever birth parents try to speak. Nevermind the fact that none of them even really need to breathe, holoform or no holoform. And Ultra Magnus is acting as their attorney. That's all I got.
The bio parents were done for the moment Magnus took on the case.
Hope you enjoy!
Human Buddy (Dratchet's kid) meeting their bio parents again
SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight angst, Human reader
MTMTE
The ship had docked again on Earth for a mandatory, in-person, meeting that Buddy needed to go as liaison of the Lost Light.
It was something simple check in that honestly could have been done online but there wasn’t any harm in some sightseeing. Many of the bots on the ship hadn’t been on Earth or hadn’t been there in a while and wanted to look around.
Buddy stayed with Drift and Ratchet.
Before they headed back to the ship, Buddy wanted to show their bot parents one of their favorite parks they used to go to feed the pigeons.
Ratchet napped in the parking lot, while Drift activated his holoform to go after Buddy.
After a bit Drift started heading back to his alt mode with Buddy trailing behind after forgetting their water bottle at the bench.
Buddy walking back to Drift alt mode.
“Hey kiddo!”
“Buddy turns around and freezes as their face collides with someone’s chest.
A familiar chest.
They push themselves off the person as another person comes up too.
“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”--Buddy
“That’s what I’d like to know.”--Drift
Buddy looks behind them to see Drift’s holoform marching up to Buddy.
He gently places his hand on their shoulder and looks at the two humans.
“A who might you be?”--Drift
“I’m their father.”--Dad
“And I’m their mother.”--Mom
Drift raises his eyebrows.
“Buddy are they…”--Drift
“My biological parents? Yes, and I thought I’d never see you again after you put me in the system.”--Buddy
Neither of the parents get the little hint of venom in their voice.
“Well, we’re here now! And its time to take you home—”--Mom
“Take them home?”--Drift
“Take me home?”--Buddy
“That’s right Pal—”--Dad
“My name is Buddy.”--Buddy
“Whatever, we’re going home now, so if you’d just come here.”--Dad
The ‘Dad’ tries to grab Buddy’s wrist, but Drift pushes Buddy back.
The ‘Dad’ narrows his eyes at Drift.
“Are we going to have a problem here?”--Dad
Drift narrows his eyes as well.
“I think we are.”--Drift
Buddy’s eyes widen.
“Listen everyone, HE is legally my main guardian. Has been with my other guardian for a while now.”--Buddy
The ‘Mom’ huffs.
“Well until WE see the paperwork, if its not justified by the court here then its null and void for us. Now get over here and—”--Mom
“And what’s happening here?”--Ratchet
Buddy smiled at Ratchet’s holoform coming overlooking more annoyed than usual.
“These are Buddy’s biological parents.”--Drift
Ratchet’s eyes narrow and stands by Buddy’s side.
“The parents that put you in the system?”—Ratchet
“Yep.”--Buddy
The ‘Mom’ starts getting more annoyed.
“That’s in the past and we’ve already settled a court order to get Pal—”--Mom
“Buddy.”—Buddy, Drift and Ratchet
“—Back to us.”--Mom
Ratchet turns to Buddy.
“Wait in the ambulance.”--Ratchet
“But—”--Buddy
“Kid, trust me. We need to have a chat with your ‘parents’.”--Ratchet
Buddy looks at them all before walking to Ratchet’s alt mode.
Buddy wordlessly goes to the ambulance while the muffled yelling was heard outside.
They just strap themselves in the back and hug themselves tightly.
Everything went so fast…
They felt their seatbelt tighten.
It’s a heavy quiet on the drive back to the ship.
When they transformed Ratchet passed them to Drift who just holds them to his chassis.
A crew meeting was called.
“So, Buddy’s bio parents want them back because, and I quote ‘We want to embrace them once again!’. Am I missing something?”--Rodimus
“That’s about it.”--Drift
Half of the bots laugh.
“Good luck with that! Buddy’s legally Dratchet’s kid!”--Whirl
“Whirl we’ve talked about the name—”--Cyclonus
“Yeah! They’re Dratchet’s kid!”--Tailgate
“…Why do I even bother with you?”--Cyclonus
“But they did bring up a point, Earth courts and legal system don’t see Buddy as their kid. Meaning to them, Buddy’s still in the system. And if they play their cards right…”--Megatron
Drift and Ratchet stiffen at the thought.
The crew starts talking amongst themselves but all feel angry at this revelation.
“We can’t let that happen!”--Nautica
“That’s why we’re going to court to fight for Buddy’s case. Ultra Magnus has agreed to represent Buddy—”--Megatron
“Those Fleshy’s are so screwed!”--Whirl
Time to take this to court.
Buddy is put into a different home while the case gets settled.
Meaning no contact with anyone.
There had been attempts by the bots to go and see Buddy, but they complied hearing that any visit could jeopardize their position in custody.
Thank goodness Magnus was there to help with the court case and legal things.
Also to help mediate the humans and the bots ‘immature’ actions.
So many of the bots in their holoforms were making obnoxious noises (cough* Rodimus and Whirl*cough).
There were more breaks because of this.
No one of the bots are happy to see the parents when come to the stand, fuming when the pair put on an act.
Even going as far as stating that Drift and Ratchet were unfit parents, not being the same species.
Something strange happens the day when Buddy is supposed to take the stand.
Everyone is asked to come back the next day for the final verdict.
All the bots are confused and worried.
Ratchet and Drift are especially worried about what happened.
Today would have been the first time the pair or anyone would have seen Buddy, and all of a sudden, the day they are supposed to take the stand no one is allowed to see them?
Something is wrong and they can feel it.
The pair find solace in each other while riding high on anxiety.
What if the court decided they truly weren’t fit to raise their human kid?
Would Buddy have to leave the Lost Light for good?
There were too many questions going through their processors right now.
The next day Magnus is updated on what happened yesterday.
The next day the bots and bio parents come in.
Buddy is sitting behind a desk far from everyone else in the room with a guard by their side.
“Ultra Magnus and the crew of the Lost Light, in the case of the legality of the adoption document of Buddy, the jury recognizes that Drift and Ratchet are the legal guardians and will be formally recognized in the system here on Earth.”--Judge
All the bots are floored and cheer hearing the news.
Ratchet and Drift smile the happiest of the bunch.
“Excuse me? What makes these aliens even fit to raise a human child, our child Pal—”--Mom
“Their name is Buddy, Fleshy.”—Whirl and most of the bots
Magnus clears his throat getting everyone’s attention.
“To begin with, you two are charged with attempted kidnapping and aggravated assault of a minor.”—Magnus
The bots behind him eyes go wide.
The parents themselves go pale.
The police start cuffing the bio parents as they squawk in shock.
“What is the meaning of this!? Unhand us!”--Mom
“You have no right—”--Dad
“IF I may!”--Magnus
Magnus ‘clears his throat and intently stares at the parents with hatred in his holoforms eyes.
“You attempted and succeeded in breaking and entering the home where Buddy had been staying and attempted to take them to an unknown location against their will. They fought the both of you off sustaining injuries to both hands and you two fled the scene on foot back to your respected household to pretend that this ‘incident’ never happened the next day.”--Magnus
The bots behind him have a mixture of shock and anger on their faces.
Drift is glaring at the parents wanting nothing more than to punch them square in the jaw.
Ratchet is trying to look over at Buddy for any injury he could spot from where he was sitting.
Magnus looks at Buddy.
“Buddy, if you may show your hands.”--Magnus
Buddy reveals thick bandages on both arms and hands.
“I do believe that is enough evidence. The biological parents are set to a new court date to address these charges. The court once again recognizes Drift and Ratchet as Buddy’s legal guardians, court dismissed.”--Judge
With the swing of the gabble the parents are escorted out screaming and kicking, while Buddy is escorted to a different door.
Once the bots are outside, they can see Buddy running to them with arms wide open.
Drift and Ratchet open their arms as Buddy crashes right into them crying and wrapping their arms around them.
Drift is crying and ratchet is on the borderline of doing so too.
Ratchet carefully looks at Buddy’s wrapped hands.
“Those two good for nothings just wanted to get me back to get my income.”--Buddy
“We can add more charges to their case.”—Magnus
“We can jump them!”—Whirl
Buddy chuckles a bit.
“I think the grapefruit sized marks are enough for now.”--Buddy
Buddy pulls out a wrench from their pocket.
“Learned how to throw from the best.”—Buddy
Ratchet hugs them again as Drift joins in a second later.
The bots all head back to the Lost Light.
Ratchet and Drift never letting go of Buddy for an instant.
#transformers x reader#maccadam#human buddy#mtmte x platonic reader#mtmte x reader#mtmte ratchet x platonic reader#mtmte drift#mtmte ratchet#mtmte drift x platonic reader
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after that episode i need all the joel fluff i can find, like i need an overdose to make up for the heart wrenching pain i am in at the moment
i'm right there with you, babe :( one order of pure fluff coming right up. i did set this in my Unexpected Expectings universe, but it's still lovely on its own I think
gif by @a7estrellas
Talking Shop
Joel Miller x pregnant!reader
Joel Miller masterlist
She keeps Joel company while he works on a crib for their baby, but she's not really interested in the woodworking.
warnings | 18+ pregnancy, that's it, this is just sweet and simple
...............................
“Are you even listening to me?” “Mmhmm.” Joel cocks an eyebrow, hands on his hips as he shoots her a questioning look.
“What’d I just say then?” She huffs, slumping back onto her palms where she’s sitting on his workbench. So maybe she hadn’t been listening to him waxing poetic about woodworking, she was a little distracted by the push and pull of his muscles under his sun-drenched t-shirt as he worked away at sanding more wood for the crib. For their crib.
“Um, something about towels?” He smirks at her, shaking his head as he shuffles over to stand between her legs. It’s a warm day in Jackson, summer wrapping up the town in bright rays and heat, and she feels a little dizzy looking at the sweat-darkened neck of his t-shirt, taking in the scent of cedar sawdust and musk that could only be her man. He rests his palms on her thighs, squeezing lightly.
“Not quite, mama. I was saying that I’m gonna use dowels to put the crib together. It’s safer, and sturdier. Gonna last a lifetime that way.” She hums, bringing her hand up to scratch lightly at the scruff along his jaw, basking in the way he leans into her touch.
“I was pretty close. Cut me some slack, huh? You’re a little distracting, Miller.” He chuckles at that, dipping down to steal a kiss that she chases after, deepening it in a way that has him groaning low from his chest. He pulls away with a smack, a dopey grin settling on his face.
“Oh yeah, I’m the distracting one.” She goes to reply, but is cut off by the feeling of a quick flip in her belly. She gasps, and Joel’s face crumples in concern, but she just takes his hands, guiding his palms to rest over the swell of her stomach. The flip comes again, but this time, Joel’s eyes widen, a breathy laugh leaving his lips as his eyes dart between her equally amazed expression and where his hands are resting on her belly. Another flip comes and he lets out a deep, rumbling laugh, his eyes crinkling up and a broad smile stretching across his face.
“Is that– is that what I think it is?” She giggles, nodding lightly.
“At least someone’s excited about all your woodworking talk.” As if on cue, another kick comes and they both laugh. Before she can figure out what he’s doing, Joel is already sinking down onto the floor with a groan.
“Joel, your knees–” He shushes her, his face now level with her belly.
“Listen, kid, your mama might not think it’s very interesting, but when you get here I’ll tell you all about dowels and bevels and fretwork. Gonna have you carving before you can walk.” She can’t help but laugh, running her fingers through his hair as he grins up at her.
“Lemme tell you something else while I’m down here. Your mama is an absolute menace–” She scoffs, tugging just a tad unkindly at his curls to get him to stand back up.
“Alright, I think that’s enough talk for one day.” He chuckles, stealing another chaste peck from her as his palms come back to squeeze at the plush of her thighs.
“Just telling him the facts, darlin.” She huffs at that, bringing her palms to rub over his chest.
“Still hoping it’s a boy, I see.” His grin is back as he shrugs.
“Just got a feeling, I guess.” All she can do is shake her head, pulling him in by his thin t-shirt for another kiss.
It is so definitely not a boy.
#joel miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller blurb#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#the last of us#tlou#tlou fanfiction#unexpected expectings
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by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 2}
Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader
Chapter Summary: It goes without saying that your first overnight patrol in years happens to be with Joel Miller. But the conversation doesn't flow easily like it normally does, with your haywire emotions and his unintentional eavesdropping...
Word Count: 7.5k
Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little daft in this, reader is a little daft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, reader snaps at joel, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, jealousy, three (3) instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, protective joel, minor injuries, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov
A/N: i just really got caught up in these two after work yesterday. i hope this chapter reads as well as the first one, i'm super nervous bc i want to keep it soft, but i did say there was slight angst in this! love y'all ♡
ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi
You were minding your own business walking back from the mess hall when you caught wind of the conversation.
It was a hushed thing, between two people right outside of the turn for the main street. Two women standing close to each other. You had been passing them by when your ears caught your nickname. And then your real one.
“Olive? What kind of grown woman willingly goes by such a silly nickname.” One quiet voice uttered.
“Tommy Miller gave it to her, on account of the trees in her backyard. Surprised she even knows what to do with them.” Another one, both of them faintly familiar. While Jackson was small, only a few hundred people, it was easy to recognize them. They were the ones you often heard while helping out with the gardens, offering trade with the owners as you all shared the spoils of your own personal ones tended to in backyards.
You knew you were intent on pulling your own weight to support and protect the town. Having been grateful for stumbling across the safe haven it provided all those years ago now. Partaking in the patrol rotation and helping out with anything around the town. You had made a life here, one that you had always wanted to try and salvage from the wreckage of the world.
But that didn’t stop people from being people. Rumors and gossip spreading as quickly as the virus that forced the world into small communities like this one. You just happened to be the star in the most recent bout, it seems.
“Yeah, but she does bring them to the markets and trade, so she’s not all that daft.”
“She’s going on the overnight patrol. With Joel Miller.” A whispered reveal, as if it was a death sentence, something that couldn’t be spoken at a regular volume lest it manifest into something.
“Hopefully she doesn’t get-“
“He’s so much more capable, they already saddle him with her for two of his mornings shifts.”
“And now they’re putting her with him for one of the most important ones, what are they thinking.”
“She’s a dear, truly, but she’s going to lose it. Just like she did all those years ago.”
“If she’s the only one that comes back…”
“Marsha, hush, you can’t speak that way. He’s capable enough for the both of them.”
Oh, they weren’t just talking about mundane stuff. They were talking about that. Your chest tightened as you realized they didn’t have any faith in your skills, in the risks you took every time you went beyond the gates to ensure their safety.
Turning back the way you came, not able to face walking past the two women huddled close together and talking so casually about the things that kept you up at night and made sleep hard to come by. You walked straight into a broad chest smelling far too familiar. Smelling like Joel. A grunt that sounded way too baritone and way too close sprung into the evening air at the contact much like your wheezing gasp.
“Woah there, sweetheart, where’s the fire?” Large hands skimmed over your back, arms encasing you, and making you feel a little light-headed, righting your balance as you began to waver from the sudden contact. Oh no, not that honeyed drawl, not that voice, not that tender nickname, not him, not now.
Your composure was already slipping, and you didn’t think you could hold on to what little you had left if he were to ask you if you were alright. The need, the want to answer his questions always winning out.
But you couldn’t, not this time.
“I-I’m fine, just forgot- something.”
“Hey.” And you stopped trying to step back. His hands came up from around your arms where he had grabbed you, cradling your face and tilting you to look at him. His features were softened, the wrinkles beside his eyes and in his forehead creased as he looked you over, making sure you were okay. But you weren’t and you didn’t want him to know. Spurred on by the sound of two voices that had caused all this rounding onto the street, you ignored the fluttering of your heart, the way your breath had caught in your throat, the way he had been touching you and fled.
“See you to-tomorrow!” You managed to squeak out as you stepped away from him, avoiding looking at him directly, his arms falling back to his sides. You weren’t sure if he was trying to catch your eyes, not raising them past his chest as you walked around him. His gaze was heavy on you, following you as you took off down the street in a roundabout way to get back to the streets lined with houses.
“Tommy, please.” Your voice was small, an imitation of what it normally sounded like, and Joel stopped in his tracks. He had a bag of things for Maria, for his brother that he had wanted to drop off before retiring for the night. He tried to quiet his breathing, standing as still as a statue in the back part of the hallway of their house, your voice carrying in from the open sliding door that led out to the sunroom.
He had just run into you down by the shops, or more accurately you had run into him. Literally. His mind had blanked at the feel of your body against his own, the soft press of you up against his chest, the feel of your warm breath fanning over the skin of his neck. And not for the first time, he thought of how well you would fit into him. How well his body could wrap around yours.
He had noticed that while around town you were hesitant to let anyone so much as clap a hand over your shoulder. Aside from the children, whose hands you gladly held with kind smiles and whose arms you welcomed around your shoulders with laughter. Tommy and Maria being the only ones he had witnessed you embracing in quick hugs.
He was always so careful with you, not allowing for direct contact to linger. It always made his heart thunder in his ears, and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with it, the casual touching. You never shied away from him, from the skimming of his fingers against your own or the more recent indulgences he had given into with the touch of his hand or the touch of his lips to minor injuries. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it delighted him to see the way your lashes fluttered and the feel of your breath hitching. He was a man after all, and he was one who was a fool for the jittery feelings you stirred in him. Even if he worried for them at the same time.
“Olive, you can’t let their words get to you.” His brother’s voice was calm, assuring you of the worries you shared with the man.
“But they’re right, Tommy!” Your voice rose to the highest volume Joel had ever heard and then wavered to nothing. More hiccups and sniffling sounding through the door. A particularly harsh hiccup sounded, startling him as he realized you were crying. Chest tight, Joel couldn’t even picture it. The thought of tears running down your upset face steeled his heart. He clenched his hands tight over the handle of the bag in his grip as he heard the shuffle of movement. He couldn’t see through the glass for the curtain fluttering in the evening breeze.
Joel was turning on his heel as your sniffles grew into sobs, moving as quietly as he could back through the house. He set the bag atop the kitchen counter and closed the front door behind him as gently as he could to not garner your or his brother’s attention. He had already heard more than he had meant to, the sound of your distressed voice beckoning him to you as he felt the need to console you. To make whatever it was better.
He knew you had been acting off earlier, just moments ago. From your wild eyes to the way you had been so distracted, the stutter to your voice.
But you were a private person, indulging him in his silly, earnest questions while out on patrol. But this?
This was something you definitely would not someone overhearing, and he respected that. He knew all too well the things people kept to themselves, things that were never exposed to the light of day, spoke of in front of others. And he didn’t want to betray the trust you seemed to have in him by hiding behind a curtain while you fell apart in front of someone who already knew of your struggles and ghosts.
He only hoped that one day…you would feel safe enough and comfortable enough with him to help you shoulder their weight. Because he knew not every patrol went smoothly, how could they, when the whole point of them was to keep up with any possible threats.
Once back in his own home, he found Ellie fast asleep on the couch with a movie playing on the modest television and a sketchbook dangling from her fingers. He removed his boots and then his coat, catching a whiff of the scent of you on his clothing. Light, slightly floral, sweet. You must’ve been tending to the garden he knew you kept in your yard earlier that day. Or baking something like you were apt to do.
With a sigh, he turned off the movie and closed the sketchbook to set it atop the table in front of the couch before moving into the kitchen. The slice of pie you had given him the other day was somehow still in the container you had fumbled for. Ellie must’ve known it was from you because she hadn’t said anything or tried to steal it. Knowing Joel liked to enjoy the treats you shared with him in the evenings with a cup of coffee.
So, he did, as he sat in his work room and began to sketch out some simple designs. He would fill your whole kitchen with whatever you wanted if it meant he would never have to encounter your tears again.
“They- they said I’m going to get him killed, that I shouldn’t even be on the no-normal patrol rotation.”
“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.” Tommy tried to console you, taking in the situation and your words a best he could. But you had rushed through them, explaining in bits and pieces. You were emotionally charged, worked up, and nearly trembling. You thought you had worked through this, at least enough to be okay on the day-to-day front. But those two women, Marsha and her friend, had taken you back to the wave of everything as if it had just happened.
You were scared. Because they were right, you were dangerous. There was the very real possibility that you could cause harm to Joel, and you didn’t even want to begin to entertain thoughts like that. He…he was good and you didn’t want to be the cause of the man’s downfall. A promise to his brother to fill a spot on patrol spiraling into the current situation and it hadn’t even happened yet. It was supposed to, first thing in the morning.
“No, it’s not, Tommy. Everyone in town thinks I’m going to get him killed. That I got Aiden killed.” The name was foreign falling from your lips after not speaking it for so long. It was something you hadn’t been able to do since that patrol so many years ago now. “I ca-can’t stomach the thought of him getting injured because of me, because I’m not good enough to protect him. He does so much more for this town, he’s important. He deserves someone alongside him that will be a help not a hindrance.”
“You listen to me, and you hear me,” Tommy’s voice was firm, wide eyes focused and mouth a thin line as he spoke to you. Soft undercurrents of assurance in his tone. And you knew what he was about to say. It was always the same thing, the same sentiment, reassurance that it hadn’t been your fault. It had just been the circumstances, the world operating as it tended to do now. Unfairly. “Honey, it wasn’t your fault that those people found you. You cover your tracks well, hey, you do, okay?”
“I had been so focused on him, I didn’t, Tommy I didn’t hear them come up on us. Not their horses, not their footsteps, I didn’t even hear the gunshot until he was falling over.” Footsteps on the wooden floor thudding as you pacing back and forth, arms crossed over your chest and shaking your head in the way that you did when the thoughts got too overwhelming.
“But it wasn’t your fault. It was a messy situation, they happen. Hey, honey, they happen even to the best of us.” Tommy reached for you, standing from the chair he had taken beside you when you arrived in a flurry. Ushering you to the sun room at the back of the first floor, furthest away from the main bedroom upstairs. Maria had been in bed all day, not feeling well and had finally found the peace of sleep after an early dinner. His arms were wrapping around you and you allowed him to pull you into his chest, face pressing into his sweater.
“I should’ve been looking! I should have been more aware…”
“Shh, it’s okay, the patrol is going to go okay.” He rested his chin on the crown of your head and felt your hands tangle in the front of his clothing. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“You, ah, you…been okay?” Joel tried to break the uncharacteristically tense silence in an easy move, with a relatively harmless question. He had been up all night, wondering and worrying about this being the first longer route with you. Not that he didn’t trust in your skills and ability, but that he didn’t trust in the secrecy around why you didn’t do the longer routes. Of the things he overheard in his brother’s house just last night. Tommy had claimed that if he was to know, it had to come from you. That it wasn’t the younger man’s story to tell and Joel was trying to respect that.
And if that hadn’t sent alarm bells to rumble low in his mind, then your behavior this morning would’ve.
You hadn’t been at your house when he went to pick you up, the windows dark and the door locked. He had knocked, thinking maybe you had overslept. He had found you at the stables, cursing at the clasps of the saddle that weren’t cooperating with your ministrations to secure them. The way that you jumped when he cleared his throat and greeted you, wide eyes settling on him and body tense as if having expected someone else. Someone you had to protect yourself against, if the hand flying to your holstered gun was any indication.
Definitely concerning.
The sound of twin sets of hooves the only sound for the last fifteen miles or so. You had been content, or as well as could be considering the circumstances, beside him. Wide-brimmed hat drawn low to shadow over most of your face, body on a constant swivel as you took in the new to you surroundings. The landscape covered in autumnal tones. It was beautiful, the warm reds, oranges, and yellows of the changing trees. But it was also deadly, threats hidden within the lush tree line, just over the rolling hills, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
“Been okay.” Was your short answer, not feeling like you knew how to hold a causal conversation anymore. Not since seeing the man’s craft had cropped up in his brother’s home and the way in which he had denied your part in the idea. That paired with the anxiety of being so far out from the settlement wasn’t sitting well. “You been okay?”
“Yeah, of course. Just busy, you know?”
“You hardly ever take a moment, see you and hear talk of you bouncing around so much. Everyone must really appreciate you willing to help. The skills you have, they mean so much. They allow us a better chance to not just survive, but to live.” You wished he could see it, the way children would stare transfixed as him and Tommy led a team of people through creating things the way that they did. From foundations to frames, tiling roofs and securing windows into place. It meant growth, the ability to rebuild, it meant anticipation of the future beyond just a few days. And he helped to provide that for the settlement with the use of his hands and the skills comprised in his head.
He only hummed in response, as if he was disbelieving of the sentiment behind your words.
And then, of course:
“Is…is there a reason why you don’t do the overnight routes?” It was a cautious one, though you could hear the undertones of concerns that coated his polite curiosity. And undercurrent of worry in his beautiful eyes that had turned amber in the sunlight you caught sight of with a quick glance when he had continued to speak.
But his question was ill timed, everything too raw in you to indulge in it at the moment.
“Joel, that’s none of your business.” You felt the easy smile fade from your face as you turned away from the man. You ignored the inclination to face him, feeling the weight of his eyes watch the way you squared your shoulders. Searching for signs of something you weren’t quite sure of. You were always willing to chat with him, about everyday stuff and the heavier stuff should one of you need to vent or rant. Never talking about it back inside the walls and surrounded by the people you went out to protect. But this?
You couldn’t. It was too much, and you know your voice had turned hard, sharp.
“Shit, I’m sorry- we just, normally you’re okay with my questions. I didn’t mean to overstep a line.”
“Well, you did. Just drop it, okay?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t-“
“I get it, just, stop please.” Snapping the reigns, you clicked your tongue to get Lowry to pick up the pace of her hooves. Moving ahead, following the path that was slowly coming back to you as the event you tried to block cropped up in your mind piece by piece.
“Okay.”
It was easy, comfortable to be beside him even in uncharted territory and land new to you after so many years. Because despite the rough start to the day, having reached the proverbial fork in the road that would take you farther from Jackson you had been in so long, it was easy to feel like things might just be okay with him mounted on his own horse ahead of you.
Even despite his rather invasive question.
You felt bad for snapping at him, for being too caught up in your own mind to enjoy the time beside him.
He was always so busy around town, but out here on patrol; he was yours.
His attention not being pulled in endless directions of so many who looked to him for help and advice, for his opinion on something or other. He was so willing to take the time and fix, mend, build, repair, anything that people called on him for. He had just been trying to do the same here, now. Ensuring you were okay. Because you knew your behavior wasn’t normal. You had jumped when seeing him this morning in the stables. You hadn’t taken the offered thermos, not wanting the caffeine to make you even more jittery paired with your anxiety and nervousness. And it was silly because you knew he meant well.
He couldn’t have known the question was a landmine.
He couldn’t have known it was the one, seemingly simple question that you were unable to answer him.
He had fallen quiet since you asked him to drop it. And you felt bad. There was tension about him, in his broad shoulders and the grip of his hands on the reigns in front of him. His legs shifting more than normal as the muscles tensed and relaxed in a pattern you couldn’t quite make out. You had bothered him, with your sharp words. And you worried that you had broken some part of what this was.
“Hey, Joel?”
A huff.
“Did you finish all the coffee?”
“No, got your thermos right here.” He patted the bag attached to the saddle. You couldn’t have known he meant that it was truly your thermos. Always nestled between his own and Ellie’s, in the cabinet, in the drying rack next to the sink. Yours, and not just while on patrols.
“May I please have it?” Nerves alight, you chanced a glance. He had to have been lost in his own head, his eyes coming back to the present slowly as he cast them toward you.
“Only because you asked so nicely, sweetheart.” He leaned down to retrieve it, holding it out to you. You were careful not to brush your fingers against his own. Thinking that maybe he hadn’t been too comfortable with the casual touching that seemed to have grown in occurrence, even if he had called on you and pressed his lips to your wounded head. Undeserving of the attention he had deigned to give you, you didn’t want him to think you were doing it on purpose. Trying to impinge on his personal space in such an intimate way.
“You-your from Texas, right?” Of course you were stuttering, nervous to interact with him, to try and bridge the divide you had caused. But you still tried, not wanting to lose the dynamic you two shared, even if you had been in your head. Even if you had no intention of physical contact, you still yearned for the easy conversations you two shared.
“Right.”
“Did you see a big change between the seasons?”
He seemed to deflate, the tension in his body ebbing just as the quick beat of your heart did as he turned to look at you for the first time in hours. Calming, reacting to each other, softening in the wake of what had happened.
The village was just as you remembered, as the horses came up on a hill looking over it. It was small, a collection of long abandoned houses and businesses on the cusp of the national park that once boasted large crowds and endless visitors who came to enjoy the views. The mountains surrounding it were breathtaking, covered in the changes of the season. Looking for all the world a quaint little getaway.
Another hour and you found yourself working silently beside Joel to clear the buildings, searching for anything that could be of use for the town, for its inhabitants.
Another hour and you found yourself stood in the kitchen of a small house, rustling through the cabinets in search of whatever may be hidden within them. With a delighted hum, your fingers wrapped around the soft casing of canvas and you pulled it out from within the depths of the one you had crouched down to inspect. Joel’s jacket hushed as he turned to you at the sound, his eyes watching, ever vigilant and ready to strike sound something be wrong.
But nothing was wrong, you leaned back on your heels as you pulled the object out into the light of your flashlight. It was a canvas pouch, rolled up and secured with leather straps that had seemed to stand the test of time and decay.
“Oh my gosh, Joel!” You looked up at him with a pleased grin, teeth flashing at him as you did so. Giddy with the discovery. You set it down over your thighs and unfastened the straps, rolling out the canvas to reveal beautifully crafted handles nestled into small, slim pockets. His steps were quiet as he moved closer, shining his own flashlight onto the find. With nimble fingers you shut your own off and tucked it into the internal pocket of your dark green jacket, pulling one of the handles carefully from where it rested to reveal a sheathed chef’s knife.
The sheath was a little worse for wear, the plastic cover faded and brittle, but when you removed it, the blade proved to be in pristine condition if a little dull.
“Joel, these knives are so beautiful.” Your words were practically a purr as you checked the others to find them nearly perfect. The whole set. Each blade crafted beautifully with a wavy design of darker metal inlaid into a lighter one, the blunt side fading from dark to light. “These are classic Japanese crafted, perfectly balanced. A bit dull, but with some care and a good sharpening block they would be as good as new.”
“Oh, so you didn’t just dabble in the kitchen then.”
“Hmm?”
“You were a chef, weren’t you?”
“Oh, um, yes. But that doesn’t mean much these days, so I tend to downplay it.” You stood, the pouch rolled back up and secured.
“You let me go on about jarred tomato sauce and cereal.”
“I meant it when I said those were balanced meals, I swear!”
“Uh-huh, sure you did. Entertainin’ me, is what you were doin’.” He was delighting in the friendly banter, no true hurt or dismay in his words if the upturn of his lips on one side was an indication. The smirk allowed for that endearing dimple to appear in the pocket of his right cheek, much like his brother’s.
“Joel, no offense, but hush. Food is food.” You tried to make it seem like you hadn’t meant any harm, because you hadn’t. Food was food, back then and even more so now. It was a way to survive, important and so scarce a necessity these days. The abundance of it within the settlement still something that amazed you. The ingenuity of people to create and cultivate agriculture as a base function of humanity and community.
“I’d bet my left arm you didn’t used to think like that. Back when we had the choice between organic and fresh to mass produced and cheap.”
“Hey! Junk food was important too! You know how many times I had a family sized bag of chips for dinner?”
“No, sweetheart, how many?”
“At least twice a week.” Flicking your hand with two fingers raised up, you couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that sprung up from your chest. Fighting the wide smile threatening to break out on your face at the faux shock he displayed with a hand to his chest and a roll of his eyes.
“Which ones?” His brown eyes glittered in the shine of his flashlight, following your movement toward your bag left atop the couch.
“I was rather fond of sour cream and cheddar.” You could practically taste the tang of the sour cream on your tongue as you made room in your pack for the pouch of knives.
“I was a salt and vinegar man, myself.”
You just pinned him with a teasing look, one eyebrow raised up in question.
“That’s just gross, Joel.”
“And there she is, the food critic I knew you were.”
“Go to sleep, mister judgement. I’ll take the first watch.” You stuck your tongue out at him, waving him away with your hands as you settled on the couch and leaned back into the dusty cushions. His chuckle was the only response as he retreated to the only room in the house, the bed springs creaking as he settled into an equally dusty mattress.
You were already back in the saddle on Lowry and moving when it happened. Joel was adjusting the saddle on his own horse and hadn’t heard the shuffle of the leaves. The tree line was just a few yards away. And a trio of infected had just breached the end of it.
“Joel! On your six!” You shouted, reaching for your shotgun slung over your back. Joel was reaching for his own laid out atop the saddle when the horse whinnied, kicking her front legs out at the infected. He reached for the reigns, quickly trying to console the amped up horse when he was knocked to the ground. Your shot missed, his horse freaking out too much and you worried for Joel on the ground.
Your own horse began to fidget, but you calmed her with soft whispers and a quick pat to her neck.
Rolling away to avoid being trampled on, one of the Infected left caught sight of him at the movement.
You were too busy leaning heavily to the left to get a good aim at the other two as they began to tear into the throat of his horse, cutting off the distressed cries of the creature. Heavy body thudding to the ground, you fired two headshots before searching for Joel. But he was blocked from your view by the downed creature.
Careening your body over the side of your own horse until you were practically hanging from the side of it with your feet secure in the stirrups, you used gravity to aid you in getting a clear view. Your middle burned with the effort as you tried to get vision of the man fighting against the Infected that had him pinned to the ground. When you did, your mouth went dry. The claws of the Infected had managed to rake down one of his cheeks, blood bright. Breathing in, you aimed and fired.
The shrieking of the figure fell silent, and its body went limp.
Grunting, Joel shoved it off of him and scrambled back away from it with a heaving chest. He looked over his shoulder toward you, his eyes nearly black from the adrenaline, his plush lips parted as he tried to get enough air in his lungs. Eyes frantically looking him over, you could see the split in his lip from the distance.
Slinging the shotgun back over your shoulder, you dismounted and rushed to his side. Your hands reached everywhere they could as you tried to sus out any more injuries. The intention to keep them to yourself short lived and fruitless. Joel was just staring at you, no words coming from him, only the sound of his panting breath as he pushed himself up on his arms.
“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt your back when you fell? Kiana didn’t step on you or kick you, did she?”
The questions flowed from you in quick succession, not giving the man a chance to answer any of them as you twisted to take a kerchief from your back pocket and began to dab at his cheek as lightly as you could. He let out a low hiss as the skin throbbed, but he let you do it anyway.
“I’m okay,” He finally croaked, sitting up completely when a few tears spilled from your lash line. One of his hands cradled your face, thumb brushing them away. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you did good.”
Through your tears, you worked at getting the blood cleared from his cheek, moving to focus on his split lip and the drops of blood that had trailed down his chin. He let you, his hand falling from your own face to your shoulder, anchoring him close. When you managed to wipe away what you could you sighed, blinking the tears from your eyes as best you could.
His eyes were so soft when you looked into them, watching. Your breath stalled for the barest of moments as you wondered if he would wear the same open expression right before a kiss. Heat flooded your face as you realized you had dug your other hand into the soft curls at the back of his head to help keep him steady and his eyes dilated at the sound. Your sore body protested as you leaned in impossibly closer, chest brushing against his.
The long travel had magnified the scent of him, cedar and sweat dizzying this close to him and it made you want to bury yourself in his arms. To burrow into him and just stay there, enjoying in the warmth and safety you felt when around him.
His eyes fluttered closed at the gentle press of your lips to the scratch on his cheek, tension leaking out of his own sore muscles at the feel. Nose brushing against his own, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to press your other hand to his chest and press him back to the ground, to straddle his thighs and show him how much he was beginning to mean to you. But that would be far too forward.
Heartbeat tittering, your eyes roved over his face, gauging his reaction to the uncharacteristic display. His face was so handsome, the trimmed scruff dusting his cheeks a mix of silver and gray complimenting the tan of his weathered skin decorated with sparse freckles, a patch vaguely resembling a heart low near his chin. And you fleetingly pressed your lips to it, unable to resist. The muscle in his jaw twitched at the pressure, but he didn’t move otherwise, eyes still closed shut.
Despite the journey from the day before and an overnight stay in an abandoned building, you still smelled faintly of the woody, floral scent. It was stronger due to the tense situation of a few moments ago, lingering in the sweat you had felt bead up along the back of your neck and the small of your back.
He seemed to breathe it in, his inhale catching in his throat when you couldn’t help the temptation of pressing your lips to where his bottom one was split in a chaste kiss, caught up in mingling of your scents and the effect he was having on you being so close.
“There,” You breathed against him, fingers clenching around the curls in your grip, surprised he hadn’t jerked away from the rather inappropriate move. His eyes remained shut, as you leaned back to look over the entirety of his face. You felt a nervous flutter of warmth low in your middle, mirroring the words he had whispered to you in your kitchen just a few days ago. “All better.”
Your body was alight with the feel of his body behind you. His chest bumping into your back on every jaunt of Lowry moving over the terrain. You hadn’t been able to look directly at him, keeping your eyes downcast in embarrassment as you had helped him up from where he had fallen. Your hands small in his as you had done so, but immediately dropping the contact once he had been back up on his feet.
It had been silent for a long pause, no words coming from either of you as he gathered what he could from the saddle of the downed horse and you adjusted your own belongings to make room. Lowry had been rather worked up, deservedly so at seeing her friend and own patrol partner taken out in such a gruesome way. The beginning of the journey back to Jackson started off on foot, you on one side of her and Joel on the other, guiding her back at her own pace.
But somewhere after the first couple of hours, you had begun to drag your feet. The adrenaline of the morning waning and leaving you utterly exhausted. That’s how you found yourself seated in the front of the saddle on your horse, Joel’s firm body behind you. His height, even while seated, allowed for every other breath to rustle the hair atop your head. The wide brimmed hat you donned while on patrol hanging from the front of the saddle so as to not bump him or obstruct his vision.
But he kept his hands to himself, save for when he gripped your hips when the horse tipped your combine gravity on the errant downslope of the route.
“Get some rest,” Joel’s words were a haze as you twisted to wave a parting at him. Safely back within the walls of the settlement and having completed the patrol write up. The loss of a horse something you were sure wouldn’t be overlooked, even in light of how it happened. You could’ve saved her, but had been too slow to find aim. But the only thing on your mind right now was a warm bath to wash away the day and then the comfort of your bed.
“You too, Joel.” You turned back to face forward, feet carrying you slowly even if the desire to be unconscious was a strong pull to pick up the pace toward your home.
“Hey, Olive?” Hesitant, the sound of your nickname was in his voice.
“Yes?” You pivoted once more, taking in the way he was looking at you. Concern in his dark eyes and softening his features. The feel of his lips sparking through you as you lingered on them. But you pushed it down, knowing it was one-sided and would always be so. He didn’t see you like that, couldn’t see you like that with all the attention he got from around town. So many other people to entertain and you were just another.
“You can always talk to me, you know, about anything. I’ll always listen to what you have to say.”
“Yeah,” The denial of you suggesting the cutting board washed over you, deflating you even more so in the late afternoon. “But I wouldn’t want everyone to think we do talk. Seemed pretty keen on hiding it from your brother the other day.”
“That- that wasn’t why I said it was my idea.” His jaw jumped, the muscle clenching and unclenching, his hands mimicking the motion at his sides. A heavy sigh deflated his own chest. “I was…embarrassed because it was the first one I made. It-it wasn’t very good.”
“Joel, everything you make is well done.” You assured even as you turned from him and walked away.
“I’m so glad you came back okay from that long patrol, Joel. We would’ve missed your amazing hands.”
Joel tried his best to tune the woman out, Marsha liked to ramble to him when he called on her to fix things in her house. She was about his age, an appropriate age. Headed the gardens and yearly plantings, helped out in the mess hall, and tried to help Tommy keep up with the holidays in order to make the town feel a little more comforted. But today, her words felt weird. Like a backhanded comment to something he intended to figure out. Because it felt like it was about you rather than just a well-meaning sentiment.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Joel tried to keep his voice even, tempered. But he could feel tingles of anxiety come to life in his chest.
“Oh, I’m just saying, everyone was rather shocked that you got stuck with Olive for Teton. She hasn’t been on anything other than her two morning routines in, gosh, such a long time n-“ He surged up from where he had been underneath the sink. The steady beading of water from the cracked pipe measuring the tense passage of time as he stood to his full height. The wrench in his hand pressed into his stomach as he placed his hands on his hip and looked directly at the woman who had been hovering over him as he worked. She had been idly peaking potatoes on the counter beside the sink, making sure to stick close to him like she tended to do when he was in her home.
But she had fallen quiet at the direct attention, a flush visible on the tips of her ears and the swell of her cheeks.
“Did you say ‘stuck with Olive’? Because I can assure you, she’s capable enough to not be talked about that way.” His brow furrowed as his lips tugged downward in a frown, unsure where this woman got the gall to sling around talk of you like this. To him, of all people. He wasn’t completely daft, he knew the women around town fawned over him. Both the younger ones like yourself and those closer to his own age and beyond. But he ignored it, because he wasn’t here for that, his heart didn’t soften for just anyone. And the woman in front of him was bad mouthing the one it had without him even realizing.
“I just meant that- since she’s so much younger and doesn’t have as much experience as you-“
“Hold on, lemme stop you right there.” Joel held out a hand, the wrench acting as a barrier between their bodies. “Olive is more than capable of being my partner on patrol. It don’t matter what her experience is compared to my own. And I don’t like the insinuation of her not being anything other than a hardworking person who willingly puts her life on the line for this town.”
“She just- there was an incident a while ago-“
“I don’t care what happened a while ago, she’s good to me now.” Anger flared, tinging his eyes into the deep, dark tone of fresh brewed coffee. His grip around the wrench was pulling the muscles in his hand, causing an ache that was becoming far too familiar a sensation. But he kept his focus on the woman in front of him, the one who had felt like it was okay to talk about you in such a way in his company, to him.
He was always polite, always lending an ear to what the people of the town wanted to say, allowing for easy conversation most of the time, but this was something he wouldn’t allow and the tone of his voice had shifted. It was assertive and left no room for interpretation that he didn’t share the sentiment of the woman in front of him. And then he thought back to the other night before the route in question.
Tommy had been consoling you, telling you to ignore the things people were saying about you, the rumors that had cropped up once your name had been added next to his on the assignment sheet. This woman had apparently been the cause of your tears, the fuel to your already present insecurities flaring and making you close in on yourself. This woman had taken the teasing jokes, sweet laughter, soft smiles, and easy-going conversation typical of time spent with you and stolen it from him. Tainted the air so badly that you had been decidedly not yourself on the last patrol and so wound up that you had snapped at him.
“She’s done nothing to deserve the way you’re speaking about her, and I would like you to apologize.”
“Joel, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset you.” Her eyes shifted frantically over his face, realizing that she had offended him with her casual words. “I was saying that-“
“Not to me, to her.” He cut off her words with rough ones of his own. Past the point of caring about being polite and heeding everything the town needed his help with at the moment. All he cared about right now was you, and how you had been singled out as the most recent subject of town gossip. He tried to tamp it and he had gotten fairly good at keeping his frustrations to himself. Ellie being the recipient when she was particularly stubborn and bull headed, but she got that from him too. From traveling with him for as long as it had taken them, their entire journey now allowing for them to explore the softer and kinder parts of themselves within the safety of the settlement.
But right now? Joel felt like he was back outside of them, the need to protect and eradicate any perceived threat strong. Thrumming in him as he felt like what was his was being singled out and targeted.
“But-“
“We clear?”
Marsha squeaked out an affirmative, her hands wringing around each other over her middle. Without a glance toward the open cupboards beneath the sink, Joel gathered his toolbox laid open beside them and his flashlight.
“Need a new pipe, nothing else I can do at the moment. Tommy will be by before nightfall with a replacement.”
He didn’t bid her goodbye as he walked through the front of her house and out the front door. Leaving the shell-shocked woman standing in her kitchen with her heart beating rapidly in her chest at his rather uncharacteristic display of anger.
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dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune
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#dev writes#fic: by the grit of sandpaper#tlou#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#jackson! joel miller#joel miller series#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#carpenter joel miller#artisan joel miller#woodworking joel miller#angst#pining#mutual pining#hurt and comfort#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fandom#ao3#archive of our own
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Unwanted: Chapter 4, Unwelcome - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, hints of jealousy, some slight self-deprecation.
Word Count: 1.7k
Previously On...: Now that you and Bucky are officially FWB, you couldn't keep your hands off one another, which obviously meant having fantastic sex in your office.
A/N: And it's time to finally introduce our antagonist! Sort of! Although, I guess you could say the real antagonism is the angst and anxiety we meet along the way. Chapter 11 is coming along very nicely, hence a posting today. I hope you enjoy!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala
"You're both so codependent," Nat said to the two of you one evening a few months later as you all sat gathered around in the common room after dinner. It was a rare occurrence where no one was away on a mission and everyone was Earth-side. The space was crowded, so naturally Bucky had offered you his lap, theoretically in order to open up some seating for everyone else. Aside from the two of you and Nat, there was Wanda and Vision, Steve and Sam, Clint, Thor, Tony and Pepper, Bruce, and Rhodey. Your perfectly imperfect found family. The only one who was missing was young Peter Parker, but it was a school night and Tony tried to make sure the kid had his priorities in order.
"No we're not," you and Bucky said in unison, which made everyone else either laugh or groan. You glanced up at him with a smile and then back to the others. "What can we say? We just really enjoy the benefits of our friendship."
Bucky let out a cough into his hand that sounded a lot like "Be cool, damn."
"How come you never volunteer to sit in my lap?" Steve asked with an exaggerated pout.
"Do you want me to get up, Star-Spangled Man?" you ribbed as you feigned moving out of Bucky's lap. "You can have him all to yourself." Bucky squeezed your waist in warning, holding you down against him. You knew that if you got up now, you'd be exposing everyone to the erection that had been rubbing against your backside all evening. Fortunately, Steve wasn't one to take such a joke very far.
"No, it's fine. I can tell when I've been replaced," he teased, though his smile didn't necessarily reach his eyes. You and Bucky weren't necessarily hiding the fact that you'd started having sex from everyone, but you sure as shit weren't shouting it from the rooftops. There would be far too many 'I told you so's or 'about damn time's for your liking, not to mention everyone asking 'what's the next step?,' so it was something you kept to yourselves. Besides, you both decided that the secret aspect of sneaking around made it so much fucking hotter.
"Good, you're all here," said Tony, breaking through the levity with a serious tone, "since we're all together for once, there's something we need to discuss."
All eyes turned to him. Usually, a serious Tony meant a global-threatening event, but things on the world-saving front had been fairly quiet recently, so you were all curious to see what he had to say.
"As you're no doubt well aware, because most of you aren't complete morons, there are more and more enhanced individuals coming out of the woodwork, and not all of them are identifying as friendlies. I know we've already got a great team here, but Fury thinks we could be better."
"Pretty strong opinion for a man who just sits around watching and talking," Clint offered from his position on the couch next to Nat where he was re-stringing one of his bows.
"Don't disagree, Barton," Tony continued, "but Fury's good graces and government approval are the reason we keep getting to do what we do. He wants us to expand."
"What, open up a West Coast Avengers second location?" Bruce asked with a laugh.
"He wants us to consider taking on some more members," Tony said. "Expand our capabilities. I was able to negotiate it down to one."
"Do we have a say in the matter, or has he already made the choice for us?" Natasha asked warily. Like you, the Avengers were the only real family she'd ever known, and like you, she was highly uncomfortable with the idea of allowing just anyone to join it.
"He's made some... suggestions," Tony said, holding up a stack of thick folders, "but the final decision is ours to make."
"Well, I say we stick with known quantities," Sam offered. "Like Tic-Tac. He proved himself in Berlin."
"Nah, Scott Lang's not a viable option," you interjected thoughtfully. "Maybe as a reserve or something, but not a full-blown member." At Sam's questioning look, you elaborated. "His daughter's young, and he doesn't have custody. He's not going to move across the country and leave her in San Francisco. Not for us, especially after being apart from her while he was in prison."
"Same's going to go for T'Challa," Nat agreed. "His priority is always going to be Wakanda, he won't give that up, nor should we expect him to."
"We could always invite my brother Loki to join us," said Thor with a grin. "He's quite skilled," he paused for a moment to think his statement through. "Though he is completely untrustworthy and could very well try to murder us all, so perhaps not. But what a humorous situation that would have made!" The eye rolls from around the room proved that, no, it would not have made a humorous situation at all.
"I wish Pietro were still here; he would be magnificent. A perfect addition," Wanda said wistfully, and you reached over to squeeze her hand. She'd done so much healing since her brother had died in the crossfire of the battle with Ultron, but you couldn't imagine the lingering pain losing a twin must keep her in. She gave you a grateful look as she returned your squeeze.
"Well, who else do we know that we'd actually trust enough to ask?" Rhodey posited. The ensuing silence spoke volumes.
"Natty, what about your sister?" you suggested. "You think Yelena would be interested? It wouldn't suck to have another trained Widow on the team. Plus, she makes me laugh, which, you know, absolutely crucial Avenger requirement."
Nat looked thoughtful. "I don't know if it would be her thing, but I could reach out; wouldn't hurt to ask. But I wouldn't get our hopes up; she's pretty dedicated to helping all the former Widows right now."
"Swell," said Tony with an eye roll, making a note on a piece of paper inside his folder. "That's one, maybe. But probably not."
"Well, what options did Fury send over?" Rhodey asked him.
Tony began handing out folders to everyone. Each page contained a brief bio of an enhanced individual Fury had vetted and thought might make a good addition to the team. He handed you a folder, then made to hand another to Bucky.
"I'll share with Pocket," he said.
"Of course you will," Tony said with a shake of his head. "You sharing your balls with her, too, Barnes?" You stuck your tongue out at him. "Nice, Pocket. The pinnacle of maturity," Tony muttered as he moved on toward Bruce.
"Not just your balls," you whispered into Bucky's ear, giving his cock a discreet squeeze. He did his best not to moan out loud at your touch.
"You are going to pay for that," he whispered, causing you to laugh.
"Why don't we take a look at these profiles?" Steve interjected with a cough, waving a folder in the air. Everyone began leafing through their packets. The room was silent, save for the shuffling of paper.
"Wait, here's someone we should definitely consider," Bucky said after a long moment, freezing everyone's attention. He held up a sheet of paper with a picture stapled to it.
You leaned over to get a better look and immediately felt an odd sensation deep inside as your eyes focused on the woman in question: Jade Carthage, code-named 'Vixen'. She had long black hair cascading down her back and vibrant emerald green eyes that, in your opinion, looked cold and calculating. She was absolutely stunning.
"Let's see..." you began reading out loud, "she's the only survivor of a secret Hydra super soldier facility. Looks like they gave her a relatively successful version of the serum, but she single-handedly destroyed their base before it could be replicated and defected to S.H.I.E.L.D. Damn; that's really impressive. Enhanced strength, regenerative capabilities, trained in various forms of martial arts..." While reading about her powers and skills, you couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy over your own lack of superhero abilities. It was a gentle though bitter reminder that, though you may be able to play in the Avengers' world, you'd never really be one of them.
"She seems..." Bucky said, almost reverently, letting the rest of his thought hang in the air. "We should definitely meet her." You weren't sure why, but the tone of his voice left your stomach feeling sour.
"Well, she certainly seems interesting," Tony said, perusing the profile, "but I'm not sure she'd be a good fit for the team; I'm not seeing anything unique she can bring us that we don't already have on tap, and I'd want to know why she was the base's sole survivor. What happened to the rest of the subjects? We'll have to look into her more closely before we consider inviting her."
"I think it would be a mistake not to at least meet her," Bucky said, his gaze still locked on Jade's picture. "You can't just walk out of a Hydra base, especially when they value you as an asset. She's got to be good at what she does."
The others seemed to agree with Bucky's assessment after reviewing Jade's sheet. The general consensus seemed to be in favor of inviting Jade in for a more in-depth interview and meet and greet before making further decisions. You weren't sure how you felt about it, but you kept your discomfort to yourself. After all, she could definitely be an asset to the team if they chose to make her an offer, and if she chose to accept, of course. Those were two big ifs that might amount to nothing.And really, when it came down to it, your opinion didn't matter. You weren't actually an Avenger. You were just... Avenger-adjacent. Shaking your head, you attempted to disperse the negative thought. It was a term you'd used to refer to yourself when you were feeling less than your friends, when you were being hard on yourself. You hadn't used it in a while, and you weren't about to let yourself spiral down the familiar path of self-loathing... at least, not just yet.
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Ooh how abut number '11. toothpaste kisses' for soft prompts! Love your writing
Send me soft prompts! Ao3 collection post here!
Eddie is going to make everyone late.
Look: he really thinks most of it isn't his fault. He'd covered for somebody on B shift Tuesday, so he'd only had 24 hours off and he'd had to sleep through a good chunk of it, so laundry went a little by the wayside, leading to him tossing a frantic load into the washer at 5 am when he realized he had no clean work clothes. And, again, he’d covered that Tuesday shift after a 12 hour on Monday, so it’s reasonable that he forgot how dire the toothpaste situation was. The look Chris had given him when he said they needed to run to the store right now at bright and early 6 am would have withered a lesser soul, so at 6:04 Eddie, still in sweatpants and wearing ratty old slides is running down the block solo to grab whatever they have at the nearest corner store. He winces as he grabs the baking soda kind (Chris hates it) and books it back to the house, trying to breathe through the waves of oh god I’m a terrible father who left my kid alone and forgot about dental hygiene.
The house is considerably more crowded when he gets back to it. First, Chimney is lugging a dresser up the front stairs.
“What- hey- what-“ Eddie grabs the bottom of the thing, hastily shoving the toothpaste in his pocket. “What’s this?”
Chim tilts his head at him. “We were getting rid of it and you said you could use a new dresser, remember? I texted you I was coming to drop it off.”
Eddie’s phone is probably dinging away uselessly on his bedside table. “Right, yeah, sorry. There was a toothpaste emergency. Uh, thank you, we can just-“
Before he can come up with some way to finish that sentence, Carla opens the door. He hadn’t even seen her car, shit, he hopes there’s no calls right away when they get to work because he’s clearly not slept enough and should lay down again as soon as possible.
“Oh!” She says, surprised and cheerful. “Why don’t you bring that into the living room. I put your clothes in the dryer, Eddie, I figured if you were running the wash this early it was an emergency.”
Well thank god somebody has a plan and knows whats happening. He and Chim set the dresser next to a wall someplace as out of the way as they can get, and then Eddie points at Carla. “Thank you,” he says, trying to put as much sincerity into the words as possible, before pivoting to head down the hall to find Chris. Its not a long journey, the kid standing right around the corner. Eddie hands him the toothpaste. “There you go.”
Chris scrunches his nose. “Baking soda kind. Gross. And I don’t need it, Dad, Buck brought the good stuff.”
“Buck?”
“Hey.”
Eddie pivots again to look in the kitchen, where the man himself is leaning against the counter drinking a cup of coffee out of his current favorite mug, the one with the squiggly little drawing of a frog and a chicken dancing together. “Hi.” Eddie supposes he isn’t exactly surprised he’s here, Buck is a feature of their household as much as the mug he’s holding is, but he is a little concerned about the amount of people popping out of the woodwork without him noticing. “Anybody else here? Why’d you bring toothpaste?”
Buck grins. “I think you’ve seen everybody now. And you were running out when I was here last, you’ve been busy, figured it might be helpful.”
Eddie nods, a little… wordless, maybe, a little bowled over. “I’m gonna…” he gestures towards the bathroom and limply leaves the conversation. By the time he’s brushed his teeth (it is the good stuff, the pricier name brand arctic fresh, Eddie usually goes for generic spearmint) Chris and Carla are ready to head out the door. Eddie is glancing at the clock and nervously calculating exactly how wet the clothes he’s about to put on are going to be as he says goodbye, leaning to kiss Carla, Chris, and Chim’s cheeks. “Ok, thank you, have a great day at school, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It takes a few seconds of staring at Chimney’s trying not to laugh face, and listening to Chris’s not-trying-not-to-laugh-at-all guffaws before his brain catches up to his actions. “Oh my god.”
Chimney grins and Eddie shakes his head futilely against the oncoming barrage. "I always knew I was your favorite." He smacks a hand to his cheek and swoons, and Eddie rolls his eyes. "Everyone said it was Buck, but I knew the Han-Diaz love connection was just waiting to happen."
Buck is laughing somewhere behind him, and Eddie wants to see what look is on his face, but instead he rolls his eyes again, harder, and says "I'm going to check on the laundry," and shoos his son out the door before fleeing to the dryer.
Of course it's all still fucking damp. They're already pushing it on time though (maybe if all three of them are late they can unionize against Bobby?) so he shucks his sweats and shimmies his way into the unpleasant cool of his pants. When he emerges from his shirt, wincing, he finds Buck in the hallway with him.
“Chimney says we’re running late and if you don’t hurry up he’s leaving you for dead, no matter your new found love.”
“I know, I know, I just need to find my shoes-“
“I put ‘em by the door,” Buck smiles, and then the smile becomes a grin. “Hey, Eddie.”
“Yeah?” Eddie says with the right amount of apprehension for the situation.
“No goodbye kiss for me?” He tilts his head, grin thoroughly classifiable as shit-eating.
“We’re going to the same place, Buck. I’m probably gonna ride in your car.” He’s absolutely going to ride in his car, they both know it.
“Ah, so is Chimney, he got one.”
And Eddie could defend himself with the reasonable explanation that he just happened to be standing in a row next to the people he’d meant to press his affection onto, or the less reasonable explanation that he only gives goodbye kisses to people whose names start with a C, but instead he says “You want a kiss, Buck?”
And he’s moving before he loses nerve, and Buck is also moving, laughing at him, so again Eddie feels like it’s not entirely his fault when his kiss lands sort of on his cheek but mostly- it’s mostly on his mouth, which is soft and exhaling a little surprised sound against Eddie. They both pull back but maybe not as far as they probably should, if they weren’t them, if Eddie hadn’t spent the last few weeks or maybe years wondering how he could ask Buck to live on the shelf with all the mugs he’s cycled through as favorites. Then Buck darts his head forward, pecking another little kiss to his mouth, and Eddie chases him for a third, and Buck’s hand tangles in his shirt and he says “Oh” into Eddie’s mouth because the fabric is wet under his touch.
“Buckley, Diaz, I’m getting in my car, and I’m not going to defend you to Cap!”
Even at Chimney’s words they don’t entirely jump apart, just slide back a little, stand more firmly facing each other as the front door distantly opens and shuts.
“We’re gonna be late,” Buck says, an awed little smile pulling at his face.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, a little breathless. Maybe he can blame that on the cold clothes. “We should probably get going.”
Buck nods, and barely finishes the motion before Eddie puts his hands on his face and pulls him in for another minty kiss, firm, a promise. Buck is grinning when he backs off and Eddie is sure his face is a mirror image as he ducks around him to go find his shoes.
They’re late. But as Buck settles next to him on the couch, all pressed along his side despite the still damp clothes, Eddie thinks it was worth the wait.
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Presents - Pedro Pascal Characters Headcanons
Summary: Which presents do the Pedro boys give you for Christmas? I have some ideas.
Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader, Javier Peña x Reader, Dieter Bravo x Reader, Din Djarin x Reader Tags/Warnings: Non-explicit smut, Fluff, Headcanons
notes: some more headcanons for you darlings <3
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
Joel Miller
Joel is actually surprisingly good at giving presents. He'll pay extra attention to what you're saying or what you may need in the weeks before Christmas.
During patrol, he keeps an eye out for your favorite foods and products, storing them away into his backpack to add them to the ever-growing list of presents for you.
He prefers giving to getting, even though he's always more than thankful when it comes to his own presents. But nothing beats the look his loved ones get in their eyes when they unwrap a present from him and it's just the perfect one, showing just how well Joel knows them.
Come Christmas Eve, there's at least half a dozen small packages waiting under the Christmas Tree for you. Joel loves to spoil you.
He gets creative as well, making use of his woodworking skill to add a few more personal gifts to the pile, carving you small figurines of your favorite animals.
Javier Peña
Javi gets lost at least three times while he visits the mall to go Christmas shopping. He does not like the over-crowded stores at all but he knows he needs to find something that let's you know just how much you mean to him.
When asked about his own wishes for Christmas, he only asked for a pack of Malboros (needless to say, he gets a few packs AND a proper present).
He's about to pick out a frangrance that seems like you'd like it when he runs into Connie. She instantly sees that he looks like a fucking lost puppy in between all the products and options and takes pity.
She helps him pick out a few things you'll actually like and even reminds him to grab some wrapping paper. She also promises to not tell you about her helping out a little bit.
You're blown away by the gifts he picked for you, trying not to show how surprised you are he actually knew what to pick.
At the DEA's Christmas Party, you run into Connie. She just winks when you ask her if she'd been helping Javi. You both never tell him.
Dieter Bravo
Dieter thinks about whether or not to get you drugs (he doesn't).
He loves giving gifts that he knows will benefit him as much as they do you- something for your shared apartment or something for you to wear.
There's a cozy sweater and a hat from your favorite brand under the Christmas Tree, but there is also some more ... naughty clothing.
You like dressing up a little for Dieter, teasing him more than once throughout Christmas-time by suggesting to get one of those little red and white outfits that would perfectly highlight your figure.
He gets you a few, unable to decide on just one when he begins to imagine how good you'd look in them.
Dieter and you both name the white lace one as your favorite, detailed with little, glittering snowflakes all over the fabric.
Needless to say, the rest of the presents dont get unwrapped until the second day of Christmas.
Din Djarin
Din is absolutely lost when it comes to presents. The two of you are inseperable, which doesn't really make secretly buying something easier.
The opportunity presents itself when you decide to shop for some new clothes and he gets a little while to himself.
A Mandalorian wandering around the aroma and lotion shop turns heads but Din can't bring himself to care. He tries a few items, holding them below his helmet so that he can take a whiff.
He settles on a set of lotions and creams that smell refreshing, a note of pine in them. You always prefer the wooded planets to the desert ones so he hopes that it's a safe pick.
You love it more than he expects - and he does too. For the next few weeks, his entire ship seems to smell like the store did, fresh and gentle, and you seem surrounded by the scents he got you. It begins to smell like home.
He insists, as soon as you have used the bottles up, to go back and get you new ones, stocking up on the lotions and soaps and oils. If you ever leave, he tells himself, he'll at least remember the smell.
(You never leave).
#softpascalitosadventcalendar#pedropascaladventcalender#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller / reader#din djarin#din djarin / you#din djarin / reader#headcanons#hcs#pedro pascal#javier peña#javier peña / you#javier peña / reader#dieter bravo#dieterbravo / reader#dieter bravo / you#softpascalito#tlou#the bubble#the mandalorian#narcos
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what do you think phillip would be like with an s/o who’s a struggling (or successful) painter/artist? idk just a crazy idea I had (ngl it would be so cute if he got his s/o their own studio or sum 💀) love ur writing!
Whatever You Want ˋ♡ˊ
phillip graves x gn!reader (pet names, swearing)
this is very Home Depot husband-esque, hope you enjoy!! thank you sm!! :)
₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
“You think I’d be any good at it?” He scratched the back of his head unsure. Since you were an artist, it was only natural he asked you for advice, your word was gospel to him.
“Of course baby,” placing a kiss on his lips for reassurance.
Phillip had always been good with his hands, in more ways than one. It's why you suggested he look into building, and woodworking while he was on his break.
Ever since you said that Phillip Graves had been in and out of the local hardware store nonstop. Luckily he had some time off due to his most recent stint of not being in the tank. The first couple of weeks you thought maybe he would drop it soon, move on to a new hobby. Little did you know what Phillip’s plans really were.
You were sitting staring at a basically blank canvas. The only thing somewhat visible were faint sketch marks that you had tried to erase one too many times. In the background there was a faint sound of a screwdriver, Phillip had taken over the spare room for the past month. His newfound hobby had become much more serious. Of course, you didn't mind as long as he wasn't making too much of a mess.
“Fuck,” mumbling under your breath, your brand-new set of pencils had just vanished. Not even 20 minutes ago they were on the kitchen table where you were working, and now… gone. “Honey!” you called out hoping you were loud enough he could hear.
“Hm?” Graves stuck his head out from the door, pushing the clear safety goggles onto the top of his head. “You need me?”
“Do you know where my pencils went?”
He smirked, not answering right away. “Maybe…” his voice trailed, eyes darting back into the spare room. “Give me a few more minutes,” and just like that, the door slammed shut and the sound of the screwdriver returned.
5 minutes later, Phillip stepped out of the room, making sure to close the door behind him. “You ready?”
Hesitantly, you got up and followed him into the room. Almost immediately you froze taking in the new appearance of the room. Saying it was a dream come true was an understatement. An entire furnished art studio had now taken up residency in your spare room.
“You did this?” you gestured to the brand-new studio in shock. Phillip smiled whilst stuffing his hands in his back pockets, obviously very proud of his work. The shelves were filled with your artwork from previous years that Phillip had saved. Against one of the walls, the perfect-sized desk sat already loaded with supplies (and your previously “lost pencils”). “For me?”
“Of course,” his smile was warm as he stepped closer, “I’d build you whatever you want darlin’,” his eyes glued to yours, hands dragging slowly up and down your arms. You knew he meant it, he had always been your biggest supporter.
“Thank you baby, this is…” your arms wrapped around his neck drawing him in. “This is everything, thank you,”
He whispered, leaning in for a kiss, “Anythin’ for you doll,”
₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
i didn't proof read bc im sleepy!! ill do it in the morning!!
graves masterlist!!
#phillip graves#philip graves x reader#phillip graves x reader#phillip graves x you#graves x reader#graves mw2#cod mw2#philip graves#phillip graves imagine#phillip graves cod#cod x reader#call of duty mw2 x reader#call of duty x reader
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Life from a New Perspective
Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Fem!reader
Characters: Peter Pevensie, Susan Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie, Lucy Pevensie, Fem!reader, Reepicheep, Oreius
Warnings: Fluff, fighting, Narnia in another battle, this came out of nowhere, I don't know where this was really going but I went with it, stupid backstory for the storyline to make sense, Edmund needed to meet his match, this is oddly cute, I thought this was going to be cringey but I proved myself wrong lol, the title is 100% based on P!ATD song
Word Count: 784
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You stop, breathing hard with the prickling sensation of the people chasing you are getting closer. You spin around and see a familiar-
You furrow your brows, fighting stance barely weakening. "Reepicheep?
The brave mouse lowers his sword and calls out your name. "I thought you died?"
"When has anything ever taken me down?"
He nods, "I knew I chose you for a reason."
"You did no such thing."
"Uh- sorry but you two know each other?" You turn to the dark-haired man.
Your eye twitches. "Royalty?"
"He is the second king of old."
"The young man?"
"I prefer to be called by my name."
You close your eyes, not wanting to shout at someone with royal status. "What's your name?"
He furrows his brows, confused about how much yet so little you know about him. "You don't know?"
"I prefer not going into town."
He raises a brow, “that’s not concerning to hear.”
“People don’t like me.”
“I wonder why," he mumbles, not meaning for you to hear.
You scoff, “until next time, Reepicheep.” You jump over a log and tale off.
“Now, look what you’ve done,” says the mouse.
“Me? If anything, it was you.”
“I did nothing to run her off. I’m the reason she stayed but then you opened your big mouth.”
Edmund rolls his eyes, “whatever, let’s go.”
They take off, meeting with his siblings and a few of their warriors.
-
“What are we going to do now?” Susan asks.
“We can go to the river and see who will be willing to fight from there?” Peter offers, not entirely sure where else they can go to find more Narnians.
“We would have had a good swordsman had you not talked,” Reepicheep grumbles.
“What’d you say?” Lucy turns to him.
“His majesty ran off our only hope.”
“What’s he talking about?” Peter turns to Edmund and then the mouse. “What are you talking about?”
“The sarcastic decided to open his mouth and run off my apprentice.”
“Apprentice?” Lucy chimes in. “When did you have an apprentice?”
“Well-”
A group of bandits come up from behind the trees.
“Where did your apprentice go?” Peter shouts, kicking the bandit back.
“How am I supposed to-”
You jump the tree branch you were perched on and swing across the way, kicking the one sneaking up behind Edmund.
“There she is.”
You duck just in time, giving the mouse a bridge to climb and attack. “Looks like we meet again,” you nod to the third eldest Pevensie.
“Looks like we do.”
“Let’s see if you fight as good as you talk,” the corner of your lips twitch.
“Believe me, I’m good with a sword.”
“Care to make a wager?”
“Like?”
“If we make it out of here alive, we spar together?”
“You’ll lose.”
You shrug, “I’ve always wanted to be defeated by a king,” you wink and run to help Lucy.
“Look who’s decided to come out of the woodworks,” Oreius says.
“Guess who’s still in the woods,” you respond.
“You’re still not funny.”
“I disagree. I’m hilarious.”
“I think Edmund’s found his match,” Lucy whispers to his siblings.
“Were they flirting while we were fighting?” Peter asks, still baffled about it.
“They were,” Susan pats his arm. “Is everyone alright?”
“Well, if everyone’s fine. I’ll be off now,” you try to sneak away when your favorite mouse stops you.
“Hold on there.” He stands upon a rock. “You’re not leaving so fast. I haven’t seen you since that idiot got thrown out of town.”
“What?”
“Yeah, after you left, we found him stealing from everyone and threw him out.”
“No one believed me.”
“I did, that’s why he's gone.”
You smirk, “I knew there was a reason we met.”
That certainly quiets him down. “I believe there is someone else for you to meet.”
“I don’t like what you’re implying.”
He shrugs, giving the young king enough time to walk up to you. “You fought well.”
You slowly turn, “I didn’t need to save you nearly as times as I thought.”
“I didn’t need saving.”
“That’s what you say but who was the one to take down the bandit sneaking up behind you.”
“I had it handled.”
A smile dances across your lips, “I know. I just wanted to mess with you.”
He stares at the ground, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks. “I- that was uncalled for.”
“Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.” You skip over to the other siblings and introduce yourself, throwing them off; on one hand, you can be deadly and fight and on the other, you can be as sweet as can be.
It intrigued Edmund a little too much for his comfort.
#the chronicles of narnia fanfic#the chronicles of narnia fanfiction#the chronicles of narnia imagines#the chronicles of narnia imagine#the chronicles of narnia#the chronicles of narnia x you#the chronicles of narnia x reader#edmund pevensie#edmund pevensie imagines#edmund pevensie imagine#edmund pevensie fanfic#edmund pevensie fanfiction#edmund pevensie x fem!reader#crazyk-imagine#edmund pevensie x you#edmund pevensie x reader
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Wanna Bet?
summary:
“Jesse’s hands meet your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your clothing. ‘That’s a lotta big talk there, baby. Want to put money where your mouth is?’ You smirk, putting on a show of pretending to think it over. ‘I’m game. I bet you’ll go to every single class and love it.’”
or, Jesse wants to take a woodworking class, and you propose a bet.
warnings: gender-neutral reader
length: 2.1k || read on ao3
notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for god knows how long, i hope you enjoy it!
Sharing his rented condo with you is everything Jesse could ask for and more. Having moved in a handful of months ago, the two of you were settling in nicely, making a good home for yourselves. With you around, Jesse regained something he lost when he began cooking with Mr. White: a sense of normalcy. Never having been in a committed, long-term relationship before you came along, this newfound feeling of stability in his chaotic life was a godsend. Gaining a new safe place allowed Jesse to discover new things about himself. He finds himself doing things he never used to enjoy, like watching sitcoms and cheesy made-for-television movies.
But if Jesse was forced to pick one thing he likes most about living with you, he’d pick watching you do the things you love. He doesn’t know what it is about watching you put together a puzzle or draw in your sketchbook; it just fills him with insane amounts of joy. It lit a fire under him, inspiring Jesse to rekindle the old hobbies of his childhood, specifically woodworking. The thought of returning to woodworking excited him yet filled him with anxiety at the same time. After a week of keeping his worries to himself, Jesse asks for your advice over dinner one night.
“Yo, so I was thinking—”
You snort, interrupting him, “No wonder I smelled smoke earlier.”
Jesse makes a face at you, rolling his eyes. “Oh, shut up. Anyways, as I was saying, I was thinking about taking up woodworking again.” He broke your gaze, looking down as he picked at the food on his plate. “What do you think?”
You hum with a mouthful of food, finishing your dinner. “I think that’s a great idea, love. You said you were good at it in high school, right?”
He nods, still picking at his food. “You think I’ll uh… you think I’ll still like it?”
“What? Of course, you’ll still like it! Why wouldn’t you?”
Jesse sighs, slowly finishing his dinner, stalling for time. He mumbles something unintelligible, regretting bringing it up.
Being practically fluent in Jesse-ese, you sensed something was up, not like it was hard to notice. You knew there was no use in trying to pry whatever was wrong out of him, so you didn’t waste time trying. Instead, you take a different approach. “Jess, I can’t blame you for being worried. You’re stepping out of your comfort zone; that’s hard for anyone to do.” You reach across the breakfast bar and grab his hand, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. “If anyone can do it, it’s you; I believe in you.”
“Thank you, baby.” Jesse offers you a small but sweet smile, which you happily mirror. “You’re sure ‘bout this?”
You kiss each of his knuckles, making him chuckle like always. “One hundred percent sure. When am I ever wrong?”
He raises an eyebrow, teasing you. “You really wanna go there, sweetheart?” Jesse’s confidence returns quickly, his anxiety curbed by your words.
You get up from your chair and walk to his side of the counter, sitting on his lap, arms draped over his shoulders. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe I do. After all, I am always right.”
Jesse’s hands meet your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your clothing. “That’s a lotta big talk there, baby. Want to put money where your mouth is?”
You smirk, putting on a show of pretending to think it over. “I’m game. I bet you’ll go to every single class and love it.”
“And what do you want if you win?” he asks, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. His hands migrated from your hips to your back, sliding under your shirt.
The unexpected sensation of cold hands touching your skin made you shiver, only fueling the fire you had lit within Jesse. “When I win, you mean.”
“Yeah, whatever, babe, just tell me what you want if you win,” he replies, a smug look on his face.
“When I win, I want you to make me something with the skills you learned from the classes.” Your fingers twist the short hair on the back of his neck into points. The tingly feeling ran up the base of Jesse’s skull, pulling a shiver from him; revenge for touching you with freezing hands.
Jesse grumbles at you in a half-hearted attempt to appear apathetic, but you see right through it with practiced ease. “If I win, which I will, you have to do whatever I say for twenty-four hours straight.”
“Deal, but your demands must be within reason.”
“Deal.” Jesse tugs you down for a kiss, sealing the bet with a smug grin.
———
Once he found a co-op offering free beginner’s lessons, Jesse signed up for two months of classes. Every Friday night after dinner, Jesse kissed you goodbye before leaving for the co-op, never hinting that you were winning the bet. And he hated it, hated how you were right—like always. Jesse had forgotten how rewarding it is to create things. It took nearly all his self-control to keep himself from living at the woodworking studio. He revels in every moment he gets to spend there, questioning why he ever quit in the first place.
As weeks pass, your excitement grows as you wonder what Jesse could be working on. You’re hopeful he’ll bring a project home with him, but it never happens. Every Friday night, a routine forms between you, beginning with dinner in front of the television. As he’s getting ready to leave, Jesse kisses you on the forehead and says, “See you in a couple hours; love you.”
Every week, you ask how it went, and Jesse replies eagerly, happily talking about what he learned. But when you inquire about what he was working on, all you get is a variation of, “Nah, it’s nothing special. Don’t wanna bore you by talking about it. It’s coming along nicely, though.” Jesse’s uncharacteristic defensiveness plants a seed of worry within you. You hope that his reasoning for brushing off your inquiries was that he was nervous to show you his work, nothing else.
———
Moonlight filtered in through the living room curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. You sat at the breakfast bar, working on something unimportant, the TV playing in the background. The front door opened, quickly drawing your attention away from your laptop. You stand to greet Jesse at the door, but he beats you to it, rushing over to the counter to give you a kiss. Fumbling with the TV remote, you turn it off, far more interested in your boyfriend. “How was your last day? Finish everything you were working on?” you ask, sitting back down.
Jesse sat down across from you, nodding as he did. “Yeah. Place had a real great vibe to it, you know?” He gnaws on his bottom lip, eyes flitting between you and his lap. “Might sign up for a higher level class. Haven’t done this since high school; I forgot how much I enjoyed it.”
A loving smile spreads across your features. “I’m proud of you, baby. Wish I could’ve seen the pieces you made.” You don’t miss the subtle blush that dusts itself over Jesse’s face, the sight making your heart flutter. There’s a pause between you two, and you’re quick to fill the heavy silence. “You know I’d never make fun of you or your work, regardless of how good or bad it is, right?” You take his hand to reassure him, worried he didn’t bring anything home for fear of criticism.
Giving your hand a squeeze, Jesse fixes his posture, leaning against the counter instead of slouching. “I’m sorry I’ve been so secretive about,” he motions with his free hand, “all this.” He scratches his head through the black and yellow beanie covering his hair. “I know you never would—” Jesse stammers, “—would be scared to show you anything.” You sigh with relief, Jesse’s words lifting a weight off your chest.
“Then why did you hide your enjoyment from me?” you ask, sadness laced throughout your words.
Your question pulls on Jesse’s heartstrings, only now realizing how his actions had affected you. He squeezes your hand again, kissing your knuckles apologetically. “Close your eyes, and I’ll explain?” he offers, pulling out the big guns: his patent pending puppy dog eyes.
You look him once over before complying, wondering what he has up his sleeve this time. Whatever Jesse was doing, he was quick about it as you were opening your eyes after what felt like mere seconds of having them closed. The first thing you see is your boyfriend nervously fidgeting with the drawstring of his hoodie and chewing on his bottom lip. The second thing you see is a small trinket box. It’s stained a deep, rich color and sanded to such perfection that you could almost see your reflection. You look at the box, then at Jesse, silently asking permission to touch it, which he gave. Gently opening the lid, you saw the inside was patterned with a different style of wood, something striped to contrast the solid color on the exterior. “Oh, Jesse,” you whisper with awe, “This is beautiful, a work of art.” Your fingers trace the edges as you take in his stunning craftsmanship. “Is this what you’ve been working on the whole time?”
Jesse nods, still playing with his hoodie’s drawstrings. “Took forever to get it just right. The inside is zebra wood; I had to wait a week for it to get restocked. Made one like this back in high school. Loved it more than anything; even my parents liked it. Everyone said I should gift it to my mom,” he pauses, needing a moment. “I almost did, too. But I traded it. Barely got twenty bucks of pot for it.” Jesse shook his head as if he were dismissing the bad memories from view. “But that’s not why I remade it.”
Engrossed in his story, you do your best to reign over your emotions, rubbing your eyes free of tears. “Why did you remake it then?”
Jesse motions for you to turn the box upside down, which you do. “Your answer is on the bottom.”
Looking at the underside of the box, you find words—along with the year—carved into the woodwork.
Thank you for believing in me ♡
—J
Once he’s sure you’ve read it, Jesse continues talking. “Remade it so I could finally have the chance to gift it to someone I love.” He meets your gaze for the first time since he revealed your present.
You got up from your chair without saying a word, rushing around the breakfast bar to pull your boyfriend into a near-bone-crushing hug. “What did I do to deserve someone as perfect as you?” you ask rhetorically, face buried in his neck. “I don’t even know where to begin; I love it so much.” Jesse wraps his arms around your midsection, hugging you impossibly tighter. He peppers soft kisses over your cheek and jawline, holding you close to his chest.
“I should be the one asking that, little bird. You have no clue how nervous I was, worried you wouldn’t like it or it wouldn’t turn out how I wanted it to,” Jesse sighed against your skin, and you could feel all that anxiety he spoke of leaving his body. “Not mad at me?”
You can’t help but giggle as you lift your head from his shoulder. “Not mad. Although, I’m not used to you being so lovey-dovey and mushy like this. Kinda like it, if I’m being honest.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jesse rolls his eyes with a smirk. No matter how badly he tried to hide his amusement, you could tell he liked it, too. He moves a hand to your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. One kiss turned into two, three, four, all soft and full of stupid amounts of love. Jesse squeezes you tightly once more before releasing you. “Just wait; you’ll like what I make next even more.”
“Oh yeah? You sound pretty confident about that,” you smirk, tugging teasingly on the ends of his hoodie.
Jesse bit his lip, looking up at you with a glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah, you wanna put your money where your mouth is?” he snarks back, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your neck. He uses his newfound leverage to drag you back in for another kiss, only this one has the heat of a promise behind it the previous ones did not.
A promise of a long, sleepless night for both of you.
#jesse pinkman#jesse pinkman x reader#jesse x reader#jesse pinkman breaking bad#jesse breaking bad#jesse brba#breaking bad fandom#breaking bad fanfiction#breaking bad fic#breaking bad x reader#breaking bad x you#brba x reader#brba x you#brba fandom#brba fanfiction#x reader#x you#gender neutral reader
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Wishlist for fields of mistria full release:
- seeing the exhibits in the museum and being able to walk around in them, animal crossing style
- if an NPC says they’re impressed or interested in something I donated make it at least a neutral gift please…
- more use for the crafting station other than decorations, I’m not much of a decorator and my woodworking skill is at 1 as a result (though maybe there are more practical uses and because my level is so low I’m missing them?). The “practical uses tab” is so small in comparison to everything else
- it seems really hard to get wood compared to stone, I’m not sure if I’m missing something but I never have any wood even though I actively forage it
- I haven’t gotten all the way through the early access story but I hope there’s some drama and dark turns similar to rune factory 4, something related to the mines and the dragon statues (maybe the other animal statues as well? This is more speculation than wishing though)
- muscly women to date. Please. Buff ladies.
- it’d be nice to see some fat characters too, right now I can only think of one and he’s the comic relief
- some “common” items are pretty difficult to get, it took me a very long time to find a brown mushroom to move on to the next section of the mines
I’m not mentioning anything I think will definitely be included like finishing the story, finishing heart events, deeper mines progression, etc.
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About the GazettE.
TL;DR I had recent experiences that reinforce my belief that Reita REALLY is still with me and with all of us. Even if they can be easily explained as coincidental. Please if you want, share something that has been helpful to heal. Take care. Gazerock is not dead. Gazerock never dies.
Full post under cut.
I consider myself spiritual, but not really religious. But let me take you through my last few days, if you so care. Its important to me and I want to share this in hopes that the others in this Fandom know that I share the pain and want to spread my own love and solace and peaceful mourning.
I took an hour drive to my twin sister's to have our birthday hangout on Wednesday. I had the GazettE on plus other vkei groups on shuffle, but I kept skipping most of the other groups trying to find the GazettE songs. A few came on and even with the heavy and rock and headbanging songs I was just sobbing. To the point where I told myself, "you have to keep your eyes open. You need to watch the road." But the TEARS were plenty and heavy. I also started to judge myself a little. Wondering why I was SO emotional.
Then I had one of those intuitive downloads where like, you know it didn't come from your own brain and then after you hear it your mind expands. I don't know who's voice it was. I couldn't repeat it if I tried. But it said, quote "but feeling is healing."
And I lost it all over. Because I knew it was right and I needed to sit with the feelings. So I let myself cry as much as I could.
And then, To Dazzling Darkness came on.
My favorite song. Well, one of them. The whole Beautiful Deformity album is iconic, but that song specifically is one of my favorites BECAUSE of Reita's bass part. (Plus my twin sister, with her music degree, thinks the song is well written and can back up why and that means a lot to me that my sister who isn't the most into heavy metal or knows the group near as well as I do likes THEIR songs BECAUSE they're good).
And after that I laughed a little and wiped my eyes and said, "ok. I get it. It has to mean you're here right now. Thank you."
Maybe it came from Reita. I'd like to think so.
Had tons of fun with my sister. Come home. Worked Thursday. That night i shed a tear or two as i watched a few music videos in bed. And i just said outloud and in my head. "As long as he's okay. I'd like a sign that he's okay, please." And i fell asleep. Fast forward to today.
Today's our birthday. I planned to grab my free trenta from Starbies cuz $0 is the only amount I'll pay there unless I'm desperate. When I got to the screen in the drive thru, i meant to order 2 cake pops for my treat. Cuz fuck it. Im desperate. I'm a sad bitch and I want cake. It's my birthday. But I have anxiety and panicked and ended up asking for them at the drive thru window instead.
And they gave me the pops and I waited to hand them my card and after a few seconds she came back up and said, "oh don't worry about them today. No charge." Once I was sure they didn't want my money I thanked them profusely.
And I drove away. And I smiled from inside. Cuz I'd like to think that that was my sign he's okay. Maybe he pulled some strings to make me smile and to say, with that grin on his face, "don't worry about me. I'm here. I'll be here. Have a cake pop you sad bitch."
I meant it when I said before his spirit is here.. there's truly a feeling of the hole in my heart filling a little. I feel like emotionally and spiritually he's here in my peripheral stronger than ever before. Especially because I had become more of a backseat fan that would slink out of the woodwork when they had new content. My "obsession" (hyperfixation) died down a lot after saw them in 2016 and 2019, and I shared my gift of art and they shared their gift of music. But that love and adoration never ever left regardless of how often I talked about it and showed it. Or didn't. Cuz NO ONE else in my every day immediate circle knows anything about them.
Cuz here's the thing, and this is just me, too. I don't have any better way or words to string together to say this other than this way. I KNOW that they don't "know me". Like , I'm not missing the physical presence like they are. I didn't sit with him every day talking about all the most common shared passionate things we're doing, etc. Etc. So I can argue for myself that because of that the burden is likely to not be as heavy as any of theirs. But music and the arts connects hearts and minds beyond the physical. And for me listening to the music keeps him close, and I almost think that I can Feel him when I hear it. I can imagine him putting a hand on my shoulder (with his endearingly weird thumbs, they always made me giggle.)
Idk I think Im getting a little off track. Long story short, he was physically here with me when he was at the shows. When he wasn't he was still there, off across the world, doing his thing. and while I knew that like in an unconscious way, i never really sat with that to be like "what are they doing right this moment" or that i could energetically feel them all at any time, you know? And I remember getting upset with myself cuz my first coherent thought after I metaphorically picked my stomach off the ground after it fell out of my butt was "well, it HAS to be ok cuz the world's still gonna turn." And that felt horrible to say. And that's not fair to me or to anyone who needs time to process this. I mean, YA, I GUESS, it WILL. But once again. This WILL still hurt for a while. And that's okay. That doesn't mean i have to "get over" it right away either. Cuz once again. The physical loss isn't felt (yet) or as heavy as the bandmen will feel. But I will feel. And my feelings are my truth. And i can argue the band itself will have worse grieving till the sun dies, and that still doesn't mean my feelings are literally less than for my own personal experience. And thats okay.
But getting back to the point of this, thinking and believing Reita's making his way to us, I now just have this new vibration around me that I know is spiritual in nature and it is energizing the room, especially when I play their music. He's here.
I keep thinking about The Haunting of Hill House and Nell's words in the last episode. And I don't want that to ever fade. I'm determined to keep him strong in my heart and my mind. Just like ruki said he and the guys would.
Anyways, I hope yall are feeling as okay as you can. I hope this may touch someone and bring more healing. Free to share things in the comments if you want, too.
#the gazette#reita#visual kei#he's still here and he always will be.#gazerock is not dead#gazerock never dies
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