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honeyedmiller · 5 months ago

Text

Pretty Little Thing | Joel Miller

joel miller x oc!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

synopsis: it’s summertime and you’re working at a retro diner on the outskirts of austin. you’ve seen many faces and heard many voices all in a passing blur; ones you’ve never really payed any mind to—until one handsome southern gentleman in particular catches your special attention, and he’s got a voice you’d recognize anywhere—one that’s gotten you off more times than you’d like to admit.

warnings: original female character, no outbreak (game) joel, joel has a hidden identity in this for a bit, joel is taller than reader, joel can pull reader’s hair, reader is mentioned to blush once, joel indulges in virtual sex work, joel has no kids in this, flirting, talks of masturbation, smut (protected sex, blowjob, consensual choking, spitting, hair pulling, many ass slaps, edging, squirting, name calling, ass play), no use of y/n.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: this is entirely self indulgent. sorry for the small writing hiatus, life has been insanely busy. thanks for being patient with me as i ease back into writing fanfic.

It was like clockwork.

Every day was the same.

The same regulars, the same orders being put in, the same rushes.

The lunch rush usually died down around two, which gave you time to prepare for the dinner rush before five.

It was funny, really. You never thought that such a tiny diner off of Interstate 35, tucked in a corner on the outskirts of Austin, would have such an attraction as it does.

Maybe it was the house favorite flapjacks you guys sold. Maybe it was the friendly hospitality you and your favorite coworker, Betty, gave to new and familiar faces. Hell, maybe it was the half-decent coffee and the low prices for everything that kept everyone coming in and coming back.

Either way, it was all the same every single day.

Until today.

Usually, there’d be no more than three stragglers from lunch, and no one would come in until around five.

The little bell above the door chimed as someone walked in, and Betty tapped you on the shoulder with a pleading look in her eyes.

You averted your gaze from the sugar pourers you were refilling, giving her a small smile.

“Honey, I’m sorry, I was about to take my break. Can you take that table for me? I need a cig after this morning’s rush.” Her blonde-gray hair was in disarray and her voice was scratchy and desperate.

“No problem. Enjoy your break.”

“Bless you, sweetheart.”

You brush off the straggling sugar crystals that stuck to your hands on your black apron, pulling out your pad of paper and pen before approaching the man that sat with his back facing you.

You muster up the best smile you can before stopping at the booth, ready to jot down his order.

“Hello sir, how are you doin’ today?” You ask, and he looks up from the menu with a grin.

The first thing you notice is his eyes. They’re a warm and inviting shade of hazel; a mixture of a beautiful green that reflects off of his tan skin and an amber as smooth as whiskey.

Then you notice his lips. Pink and plush. Kissable.

And then there’s the smile hidden behind the lips. Bright, pearly whites that take your breath away and make your heart palpitate, because god, why is he so handsome?

It’s like he won the genetic lottery or something.

The mustache above his lips and the scruff on his jawline matches his dark hair with a few silver strands peeking through; the only identifier of his prospective age.

His lips pull up into a smirk as he watches you shamelessly checking him out. Truthfully, you want him to watch you watching him.

He clears his throat and your eyes snap back up to his. You tilt your head to the side and study him for a moment further before he finally speaks.

“I’ll take a black coffee n’ the number three please. Eggs over easy.”

You write down his order and your brows furrow as he speaks. Something about his voice sounds so… familiar.

“Midday breakfast?” You tease, and he offers you a shrug and a grin. “It’ll be right out, sir.” You gingerly take the menu from him and walk back behind the counter.

His voice keeps ringing through your head as you ring in his order on the POS system. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but his voice was attractive nonetheless — deep and gruff, yet sweet and polite.

Where the hell have you heard that voice before?

And then it hits you.

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

That man’s voice has brought you more orgasms than you can possibly even count.

In a desperate need to get yourself off one night, you explored your options until you came across a faceless account. It was his broad body and thick, muscular arms that caught your attention. And — yeah, okay, maybe his deliciously girthy cock, too.

The final nail in the coffin was that thick, syrupy Southern drawl that reeled you in and immersed you in a world full of pleasure.

His voice and groans alone have made you come harder than any man you’ve ever been with.

Your throat goes dry as you look back at him, tucked into the booth he chose to sit at, looking at his phone.

You mindlessly pour his coffee and bring it out to his table, legs seemingly floating in his direction.

You set the coffee cup down on his table. His large hand grabs the cup, making it look nearly miniature.

Your mind was fuzzy and your core suddenly had an aching throb as you thought of his hands exploring your body; what they’d feel like all over you and — god, get a fucking grip.

“Was there anythin’ else I can get for you?” You ask as nonchalant as you can muster up.

“Nope, that’ll do it darlin’. Thank you.” The crinkles beside his eyes deepen in the slightest as he tosses a polite smile your way.

“Food should be out in a couple of minutes.” You rap your knuckles on the table once before turning around to finish topping off the sugar pourers.

The chef chimed the bell indicating the handsome man’s food was done. You wipe your hands on your apron once more before sucking in a breath.

You decided to shoot your shot and call him out by his screen name. You were confident it was him.

You saw no wedding band on his finger, either, so what the hell, right? Worst that could happen is he rejects your advances.

You grab his plate from the kitchen window and head toward his table. Your palms start to sweat and you’re nervous as hell, because fuck, a face like that is hard to forget.

You set the plate down in front of him and he softly thanks you. You hesitate for a second before tucking a stray hair that had fallen out of your braid behind your ear, shooting a wink his way.

“Anytime, Mr. Ryder. Let me know if you need anythin’ else.”

He pauses before looking up at you again, eyebrows furrowing.

“How do you—?” He starts, clearing his throat as his eyes travel down your figure.

“I’m a fan of your work.” You shrug, passing it off like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“I see,” He looks back at the now empty diner, gaze shifting back to you. “Wanna sit for a minute and chat?” His voice holds sincerity and — god, let it be — desire.

You nod and hold a finger up to him. “Just a sec.”

You walk back to the counter, catching Betty at a perfect time. She grins at you as she re-ties her apron around her waist.

You jerk your head back to Ryder. “The guy over there wants to chat for a few. Mind if I take a break?”

“Go ‘head baby. Not like we got a ton ‘a people to serve.” She laughs, and you shoot her a smile.

“Thanks, Betty.”

You untie your apron from your waist and walk back over to his booth. He gestures for you to slide into the side opposite of him, and you clumsily settle into the worn leather bench.

He chews on a piece of bacon before his gaze roams your face, seemingly studying you before he swallows.

“So, what’s the first video you watched?” He asks, and you feel your face burn with a blush. You thought he’d be more subtle, but it’s better to lay the cards on the table you suppose.

“Truthfully, I’ve scrolled all the way to the bottom of your page and have probably watched every single one.” You shrug at your confession, and that pulls a smirk out of him.

“What about your favorite?” His tone is almost challenging, but truthfully, he’s intrigued. Never did he think anyone could recognize him by just his voice.

Joel was careful not to show his face on camera. He wanted to keep himself a mystery—the gruff, sexy voice of a suave cowboy and his perfect body that he shared with the world—a secret.

“It’s probably gonna have to be the one where you’re pretty much just talkin’ the viewer through it and, fuck, this is kinda embarrassing but we’re already here,” You huff, and Joel shakes his head and urges you to continue. “When I watch that video, I’ve kinda timed it to make myself come the same time you do.”

“Not embarrassin’, sugar. That’s the sexiest thing a woman has ever confessed to me.”

“Yeah, well, when you got a voice like yours and a dry spell like mine, it’s the perfect mix for a most blissful—” Joel’s hearty laugh cut you off, and you couldn’t help but admire him from across the table.

He was so fucking handsome and you genuinely couldn’t believe you were seeing the man who’s made you come more times than you can count without even fucking touching you, in person.

“Can I see your notepad and pen real quick, baby?” He asks, gesturing down to your lap. You shuffle the items out of your apron pocket before sliding them across the table, and at the click of the pen, he starts to write something down.

You lick your lips and cross your arms over your torso, lolling your head to the side. He clicks the pen once more before sliding it back over to you with the notepad.

You look down at what he’s written, to see his fake name, phone number and an address.

“Whenever you get off, gimme a call n’ come over if you’d like. No pressure though, sugar.”

Holy fuck.

No way in hell you’re passing up this opportunity, so you shoot a smirk his way and tuck the paper into your apron pocket.

Play. It. Cool.

“I get off in about,” You look down at your watch, twisting your lips to the side. “An hour.”

You try to keep your voice steady, but your heart is thumping in your chest and your desperate, aching cunt.

“Sounds good,” He raps his knuckles on the wooden table before grinning at you, nudging your foot in the slightest before he finishes off his breakfast for lunch. “Just the check, sugar. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“I’d rather you pull it than get out of it.” You grin wickedly at the astonished man in front of you, sliding out of the booth.

You walk away to the counter before he can retort and ring the check up for his meal, but before you can bring it back to him, he slaps two twenties on the counter before you.

His thick fingers find their way to your wrist and give it a squeeze as he leans down to you and whispers his next words.

“Hope I can satisfy you in more ways than one, baby. See ya in an hour,” He straightens back up before looking down at the twin Jacksons staring back at the both of you, “Keep the change.”

He walks out without another word, without looking back, and it leaves you nearly winded.

“What was that all about?” Betty asks, sidling up beside you as she gently nudges your ribs.

“Looks like I got a hot date.” You half joke.

“If I was thirty years younger I woulda been all over that too, baby,” A hearty laugh escapes her and she shoots a wink your way. “Have fun tonight.”

The hour goes by surprisingly fast and you find yourself almost scurrying to your car after you clock out. You toss your apron into the passenger seat of your car and immediately roll down the windows.

The AC decided to give out on you about a week ago, and of course it was during a time where it was hotter than the devil’s fucking asshole outside.

You groan as you close your eyes, the heat already making you miserable. At least the diner had a good central air system.

You peel your eyes open to fish the paper out of your apron pocket with Ryder’s number and address on it, dialing the numbers scrawled across in blue ink.

After the second ring, his rich voice picked up on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Hey Ryder. ‘M off work now if you still want me to head to your place.”

“Hey sugar. Head on over. There’s a spot in the driveway for ya.”

“See you soon.”

Nerves coursed through your veins as the line went dead. You type in his address into your phone, and to your surprise, he only lived fifteen minutes away.

You threw your car in drive and you were off, the hot air whipping through the cab of your car.

It was truly unlike you to do something so bold like this.

You never went to strangers houses, always ignored when you got hit on at the diner, rejected offers from several men for what would probably be a night full of mediocre sex—and yet, there was something about this man that you couldn’t shake off.

Even with just video evidence of this man’s gruff voice, veiny cock and skillful hands, you could just tell he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing.

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to a quiet neighborhood. His house was on the right hand side, and you pulled up into the driveway next to his black truck.

You took a deep breath before looking at yourself in the mirror of your sun visor before touching up with some lip gloss. You spray your perfume on your pulse points before deciding to stop stalling and finally get out of your car before psyching yourself out.

Your beat up work shoes scuff the concrete path leading up to Ryder’s door, and you swallow thickly before you knock.

Thirty seconds later, a now shirtless Southern gentleman answers the door, hazel eyes catching yours as you stare up at him in awe.

“Well fuck me.” You mutter under your breath as you study his handsome face and his thick, toned torso.

“Tha’s the plan, sugar.” His deep voice shoots straight down to your core, nearly making you audibly moan.

He steps aside to let you into his house, which is surprisingly warm and inviting. It’s cozy with its worn-in furnishings and family photos on the walls. It smells like him too; something earthy and musky and delicious.

He guides you into the living room with his hand on your lower back, touch sending a chill down your spine.

“Make yourself cozy, darlin’. Would y’like anythin’ to drink?”

“Whiskey, neat please. If you have it.” You respond, and he softly smiles at you before nodding and retreating into the kitchen. You can’t help but watch him walk away with the muscles clearly rippling in his back as he walks, all the way down to the back dimples he has.

There’s no fucking way this man is real.

You sigh and settle onto the couch, folding your hands into your lap after setting your purse and keys on the coffee table in front of you.

It’s only a couple of minutes before Ryder reappears before you, handing you a glass of amber liquid. You thank him and sip on it graciously, the smooth taste gliding down your throat and going straight to your already throbbing core.

He sits next to you and slings his arm over the back of the couch, allowing himself to get comfortable as if this occurrence is the most natural thing in the world.

Fuck, maybe it might be for him. You wouldn’t really be surprised considering the charm and suave demeanor he possesses.

“You can relax, darlin’. ‘M not gonna try anythin’ or touch ya without your consent.”

Your shoulders visibly relax at that, not even noticing they were tense to begin with. He didn’t give you bad vibes or scare you. He made you nervous—a feeling you haven’t felt with a man in a very long time.

“So,” You start, voice scratchy from talking so much hours prior and the burn of the whiskey affecting your throat, “You usually bring women home like this?” You’re half teasing and half curious, wanting to see if this really is a regular occurrence for him.

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and practically vibrates the whole couch. “No, sugar. You’d be the first t’ even recognize me just by my voice. Gotta say, ‘m pretty impressed with that. Guess you’re a regular viewer then, I take it.”

Now he’s the one teasing, but there’s a knowing tone in his voice. You didn’t even have to say it. He knows.

There’s really no point in denying how turned on he gets you, so you just… let it happen.

You feel a little looser with the whiskey swimming in your veins, giving you the bit of courage you mustered up within the past minute or so. You sink into the couch further, spreading your legs enough to keep the man curious.

He watches you wearily, eyes trained on your body and the signals you were emitting.

“You’re the only man that can get me off now. You’ve got me wrapped around those skillful fingers, Mr. Ryder.” Your voice sounds more smooth and sultry than you expected it to, but it was definitely working in your favor.

“These skillful fingers would love to show you a thing or two, baby.” His fingers twitch around the glass he holds tightly; clearly a form of self-restraint.

You didn’t want him to hold back anymore.

“Show me.” You say.

A small groan emits from the back of his throat.

You suck in a breath as your eyes notice his going completely dark, drowning in desire for you. His once bright hazel eyes have since been replaced with something deeper than a simple need to satiate.

It was fucking carnal.

He downs the rest of his drink and licks his lips, patting his jean-clad thigh.

“Sit on my lap. Back against my chest.” He commands, and you try to smoothly maneuver yourself onto him just as he’d asked.

Once you’re settled on top of him, he gently grips onto both of your knees to spread your legs apart so they’re on either side of his thick thighs.

Your lips part and you don’t even notice you’re breathing heavier until you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“Relax, baby. ‘M gonna make you feel good. If you need me to stop, just tap my thigh twice and hard. Got it?”

“Yes.” You whisper, nearly shaking in anticipation.

“Good.”

And his hands are grazing up your legs to the inner part of your thighs, delicately tracing your skin. Goosebumps raise at his featherlight touch, and before you know it, he’s spreading his own legs wider to spread yours.

You were aching and damp even back at the diner as you sat with him in the booth, studying his handsome features. The cool air of the home hits the dampness on the cotton panties you wore.

Ryder’s fingers made their way up to the lace trim of your panties, causing you to softly whimper for him. You genuinely didn’t think you needed anyone to touch you so fucking bad in your life.

You didn’t want to come off whiny and absolutely desperate, so you kept your pathetic begging to yourself.

“So wet already, pretty girl. This all for me?”

You can’t muster up the words because your brain is simply mush at this point, and all you want is his fingers on you, and fuck, in you.

“You know I respect you, right baby?”

Respect you?

You’ve only known this man—physically—for a few hours, albeit knowing his voice and his body long before he’d even tell you his real name.

And yet, there’s a comfort in his presence. One that would have you willing to do nearly anything for him—with him.

And all you could do was meekly nod your head at his words, his Southern twang dripping in honey—buzzing into your veins.

You turn your head to look at him with a bewildered expression on your face, though, wondering why he’d ask such a thing.

He shoots you a devilish smile.

“Good, ‘cuz for the next few minutes it’s gonna look like I don’t.”

“Oh, fuck.” You mewl, tossing your head back onto his shoulder. He noses at your jaw, littering kisses and small nips all along your jawline and neck as he slides your panties to the side.

He slides his middle finger through your slick slit, moving up to circle your already sensitive clit. You shudder at the touch, clamping your eyes shut as you softly moan.

“Fuck baby, you’re drippin’ already. This what I do to ya? You get this wet when you’re by yourself and you’re bein’ a dirty fuckin’ girl gettin’ yourself off to my videos? Hm?”

His deep voice vibrates through your body, finger traveling down to your entrance. He teases you as he slips the tip of his finger into you—nothing more—and moves it back out.

He continues this a few times, and when you don’t answer him, he slaps your dripping cunt lightly. You gasp and grip onto his forearm that was wrapped around your torso.

“Answer me.”

“God, yes, I–I fuckin’ love your videos. You always get me this wet. Every time. You’re just so—fuck—goddamn hot.”

He chuckles at your blabbering. “Hot, huh? You think that highly of me?”

“Ryder,” You moan as he fully sinks his middle finger into you. He stops his movements and it takes everything in you not to rock your hips.

“Joel.”

“W-what?”

“I want you moaning my real name, baby.”

Joel.

That name is somehow very fitting for him, and lucky for you, it rolls off the tongue easily.

“Joel.” You test it, and his grip on you tightens.

“Atta girl.” He praises, sinking a second finger into you. You moan at the feeling, long fingers hitting spots yours never could. He curls his fingers to hit that exact spot and you cry out in pleasure.

You can feel Joel’s cocky smirk on his lips as he kisses your braided hair, likely in a complete disarray at this point.

The squelching noise that reverberated throughout his living room was truly obscene, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, it seemed to spur him on as he twisted his wrist and worked his fingers faster, pressing into that spot inside of you that had you choking on your own moans.

Without warning, you felt yourself nearly at the brink of your orgasm—and Joel pulls his fingers out of you. You cry in desperation, the beautiful build up completely dissipated.

“Not. Yet.” Joel’s mouth was next to your ear, nibbling at your lobe as he worked you through the edging.

He didn’t stop after that, though. He kept the momentum going, sliding his other hand from your torso down to your swollen clit. He slowly starts to rub small circles onto the already overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out a strangled moan as the feeling surges through your body.

“Now.” He says.

Your mind was going blank at this point and a pressure kept building and building and building—until you felt a huge gush, forceful and draining. Your eyes snap open to see clear liquid dripping all down the couch.

“Fuck, Joel I’m sor—”

“Don’t you dare apologize baby. You ever done that before?” He asks, and you shake your head no. He moans at your wordless response and readjusts himself beneath you, and you can suddenly feel how hard he is in his jeans.

Even through the denim he felt fucking big, and you knew you were in for it.

“Let me,” You start, shakily sliding off of his lap and onto the floor. “Let me take care of you.”

Joel watches you and the same muscle in his jaw ticks furiously. He nods without another word as you lean up to kiss the hot skin above his jeans, trailing your lips down to the hemline. You undo the button and zipper swiftly, and he lifts his hips to pull his pants and boxers down to his mid thigh.

Your hunch was correct: he’s fucking huge. You swallow as you take in the sight of his cock in-person rather than over a screen, and it was even better than you’d imagined all those times.

You gently grab the base of his silky flesh, giving it a soft squeeze as you move your hand to the tip. Your eyes flicker up to his, and he’s watching you intently. You smile sweetly up at him before bringing your head down to lick the pre come from his slit, moaning as you get a taste of the salty musk.

Joel’s hand flies to your head, threading his fingers through the loose braid as you slowly lick your way down the vein on the underside of his cock.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” You say, and he groans at your praise. “Even better than I imagined.”

You bring your tongue back up to the tip and take him in your mouth this time, going as far down as you could before you gagged softly.

“Fuck yeah baby, just like that. Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me,” He mewls as you set a faster pace, one of your hands coming to pump the rest of his cock you couldn’t reach with your mouth, the other gently fondling his balls.

You moan around him as his silky flesh easily glides onto your tongue. You enjoy getting him off like this; unraveling him inch by inch just as he’s done to you many times before.

He began to rock his hips up into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try your damndest to not forcefully gag around him.

“Mouth feels so goddamn good on me, honey. ‘M not gonna last much longer.” Joel confesses, and your tighten your lips around his cock to silently urge him to let go.

It was only another minute until his hips completely stilled and his pulsing cock was drained, salty spend coating your mouth in haste.

He groans loudly as he reaches down to cradle your jaw, slowly sliding your mouth off of him. You swallow his spend and sit back on your heels, looking up at him innocently.

“On your knees, baby. Ass up.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch, and you happily oblige. He pulls the skirt of your uniform up over your hips and slides your wet panties down your legs so you’re on full display for him.

You feel his hands slide over the globe of your ass, spreading you apart to get a good look at all of you. You suck in a breath for a second before you feel his fingers slide through your slick folds once more, teasing you so.

“You ever had a man touch you back here? Pretty little thing.” He asks as his thumb circles the tight ring of your ass.

“No.” You moan, closing your eyes as you press a cheek to the couch cushion.

“Hm. ‘S a shame. Feels real good.”

“Please, Joel.” You truly weren’t above begging for this man to touch you in any way possible.

“Please what, sugar?”

“Please—please touch me. Make me feel good. Even better than I already feel.”

You turn your head more to lock eyes with him staring down at you with a look of determination and hunger.

He keeps his eyes locked on you as he grabs his half-hard cock, reaching to the coffee table beside you both to grab the foil packet you didn’t even see until this very moment.

He rips it open and slides it on before sliding his cock through your slick folds. You sigh in pleasure as your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before you open them again as his tip notches your entrance.

“You ready baby?”

You nod your head, but he shakes his.

“Need your words this time darlin’.”

“Yes Joel. Please.”

He sinks into you slowly, his girth stretching you out so deliciously. It stung a little, because in truth, you’ve never been with anyone his size.

Once he’s fully sheathed into you, he shoots you that same wicked grin before letting spit slowly dribble out of his mouth and onto your asshole.

“Oh fuck me,” You whisper, moaning as his thumb circles the tight ring once again. “Please.” You say, and he hooks his thumb gently into you.

You feel so full like this, barely even able to comprehend the fact that you’re about to get fucked by your favorite adult content creator.

Joel starts to rock his hips slowly at first, moaning at how tight you are. He picks up his pace once you’re both comfortable and it feels like he’s punching your fucking gut.

It’s almost unbearable— but the pleasure outweighs the pain by a mile. He’s rocking his hips so hard that the couch starts to scrape onto the floor, nothing but skin slapping on skin. You feel a sting on your left asscheek and moan at the contact, realizing Joel had slapped you.

He does it again, and again, and again, until tears are in your eyes and you can no longer bear the sting.

“Pussy feels so fuckin’ good baby. Was meant to take this cock, hm?” He says through gritted teeth, and you can’t help but agree with him.

His hand slides up your back and reaches your hair, pulling it so your head tilts upward.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this. Love the way you feel around me.” He confesses, taking his thumb out of your tight muscle before wrapping his other arm around your torso once, only to pull you upright this time.

He’s pistoning into you as you lean back onto his body. His hand wraps gently around your throat as he scatters more kisses onto your jawline and up your earlobe.

“Can I?” He asks, and you choke out a meek yes.

His large hand wraps all the way around your throat, squeezing the sides. Joel turns his head down to look at you, all helpless as he fucks you relentlessly.

Your jaw hangs open and your eyes are squeezed shut, relishing in the all-consuming feeling of Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You open your eyes as you plead his name, feeling another orgasm burning within you.

He moves his fingers up from your throat to grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he spits into it.

“Swallow.” He commands, and you don’t question him one bit.

He likes seeing you like this—submissive and practically breedable—and yet, he barely knew you. He knew he wanted that to change after this, though.

“Joel I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hoarse and desperate, trying so hard to keep the feeling of pleasure at bay.

It was no use, though. The way he was looking at you made you want to fucking risk it all, and when he finally bent his face down to kiss you, you knew it was a wrap.

You both moaned into each other’s mouths as your tongues tangled together, tasting each other and exploring one another.

It wasn’t long before the coil finally snapped for you, and seconds later, him as well. You both panted heavily as you were submerged in the post-coital bliss.

“You did so good, baby. Hopefully I lived up to your expectations.”

You huff a laugh at his words as he pulls out of you and shuffles himself down onto the couch, pulling you on top of him. He kisses the top of your head as he plays with your hair, a strange feeling blooming in his chest as you both enjoy the presence of one another.

One thing’s for sure and two things for certain:

You’re everything he’s wanted, and he didn’t even know how to tell you. There was no way he was letting you go now.

tags: @endlessthxxghts @punkshort @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @party-hearses

@joelsgreys @ozarkthedog

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x oc #tlou one shot #tlou imagine #joel miller tlou

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justwinginglife · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! Im not sure if you're open some request or I might give you some idea. I wonder what Hoshina's reaction when his s/o asked him curious question “what if I disappeared one day?"

Feel free to ignore this request! ^^

Omg my first request- hi! So sorry, this got so much sadder than I wanted it to be but the short answer is the poor guy just can't live without you.

My One & Only

You knew marrying Soshiro Hoshina was going to be the best decision of your entire life. You'd give up a winning lottery ticket just to be able to stand next to him at the altar. Marrying him was like winning the lottery anyway, only he was a lot more attractive than a couple of numbers in your bank account.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of waking up in the middle of the night just to check the time and realizing he was wrapped around you tightly like he couldn't sleep without your skin on his. Even when he'd roll off of you, some part of him would always be touching you, whether it was his leg thrown over yours, or his arm under your neck, or even just his shoulder snug against your shoulder. He needed to touch you like he needed to breathe. And you'd never get tired of it.

Your favorite part was when you'd get up to start getting ready for work, or even just to go to the bathroom, and he'd feel you move and roll over to you mumbling "Wait... don't go, I haven't said I love you yet, okay I love you," sleep still dripping from his voice, and then he'd conk out again. You'd kiss him on the forehead, cheek, lips, anywhere really, and then whisper back, "I love you too baby." And even if he was out cold, he'd smile like he heard you.

You loved everything about being married to him, even the fights- because he couldn't stay mad at you for long. The longest fight you'd had with him in the years you'd been together lasted less than 24 hours- you'd had enough of his pouting and his cold shoulder, and so you did what any rational person would do when they wanted to go to bed and have their significant other actually come to bed with them, you stripped naked. Ended that argument real quick. In fact, he was in the bed before you even got your panties all the way off, he wanted to help.

But, after only being legally married for a few weeks, you finally discovered one thing you did not like about being married. You'd have to have the talk with him. What happens if one of you dies?

Insurance companies wanted to know, your jobs wanted to know. Honestly, you hated to talk about it, but some part of you wanted to know as well.

So one day, you sat him down to talk about life insurance, emergency contacts, all the things you don't want to talk about when you're freshly married, but that need to be talked about anyway. Who do you want me to call first if you're in an accident? Do you want to be resuscitated if you're injured beyond belief and wouldn't be able to live a normal life again even if you were brought back from the brink of death? Do you want to be cremated or buried?

Then, under the guise of talking all things rational and logical, you slipped in a question you'd secretly wanted to know. "What if I... disappeared one day? What would you do?"

He went silent, gripping the legal paperwork in his hands tightly. You hadn't expected the vast amount of pain that would stain his eyes and spill over to darken his face. You reached over to rub his hand until he loosened his hold on the papers. He sighed.

"Like if you... went missing? Or... died?" He asked, the words like knives scraping out of his throat, threatening his very livelihood.

You nodded slowly.

"Well... if you were... missing, I'd search my whole life for you. I'd never give up. And if you... died. I'd be right there with you." He said solemnly.

You wanted to stop this conversation right now and tell him something like you'd never die or you'd never go missing, anything to erase the hurt that he was in right now because of you. But you couldn't stand the thought of you actually dying or going missing and him spending his whole life in pain because he couldn't move on.

You kneel on the floor in front of him and grab both his hands which have now been balled up into fists. You kiss at his fists and keep kissing them until his hands relax and wrap around your hands. He's shaking but he holds onto you tight like you'll disappear if he lets go.

"Baby." You say, making sure you have his attention. He won't look at you, it's like he knows what you're going to say. He always knows what you're going to say.

You pull a hand away from his trembling fingers and cup his face with it, stroking smoothly at his cheek. "If I die, I want you to promise me you'll live on and be happy."

He shakes his head no immediately. "Can't do that, love."

You smile at him warmly. "Baby. It'll be okay. I want you to be happy."

For the first time in your life, you think you might make him cry. If this weren't such a depressing moment, you might tease him about the Vice Captain of the Third Division being such a crybaby. But you can't tease him. You can't even seem to get anymore words out when you see the state he's in. He's acting like you're dead right now. His face has gone pale and clammy and his fingers must be bruised from pressing into your skin so hard to make sure you're still there. His eyes... you almost can't look at his eyes anymore as you see the tears start to collect. It's like he's drowning but there's no bottom so he just keeps sinking and sinking.

"I-" He starts but this time the words get stuck. He blinks and the force of it pushes a tear over the edge. You watch as it trails down his cheek, feeling helpless but also in a heartbreaking way, feeling so very loved by him. He swallows and then clears his throat. "I-I'm happy.... because you're here. How could I... be h-happy... without.. without you?"

You can't take it anymore. You stand up and throw your arms around him, hoping maybe he'll forget this whole conversation if you smother him with enough love. He pulls you in even closer to him and sighs deeply, like he's exhaling his first fresh breath of air after being submerged for so long. You think you might crack a rib from how tight he's holding onto you, but you're scared to pull away, having never seen him so vulnerable like this.

"Don't cry baby, you're going to make me cry." You mumble into his shoulder.

"Don't die then. Don't give me a reason to cry."

You smile against his shoulder. "Alright baby. You got me. I won't die. Ever."

He runs his fingers through your hair and you wonder if the repetitive motion is to soothe him or you. "That's my girl," he murmurs against your neck as he nuzzles up against you.

"That's my girl," he repeats again, "My one, my only."

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #oneshot #anime #hoshina #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader

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metalhoops · 2 years ago

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‘Of course, I remember you.’

As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher.

To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting.

Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.

Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky.

He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that?

Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating?

His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that.

There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy.

There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’.

He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him.

Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy.

‘You might not remember me’.

What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them.

It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?

He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them.

He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates.

When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer.

Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like.

It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold.

“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears.

“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike.

“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting.

“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code.

“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them.

They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions.

“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin.

He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.

“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?”

Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation.

“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer.

Holy shit.

“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates.

Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him.

Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.

They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief.

“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?”

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted.

“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh.

“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?”

Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different. He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different.

“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?”

Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?”

#steddie #steddie ficlet #fictlet #drabble #steddie drabble #obligatory soulmate au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things 4 #steveddie #I love reading soulmate aus #but I've never written one #so first time for everything #metalhoops writes

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splatloafbud · 2 months ago

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a very vivid splatoon 3 splatfest dream i woke up from this morning at 2am:

the splatfest theme was: "which shape is the best?"

the teams were: circle vs triangle vs square

i had joined team circle because the colors reminded me of team future, the grandfest team i joined irl

before playing a ton of turf war (the turf war part of the dream was a blur to me), i was too preoccupied taking in the sights and sounds of the splatsville city. all of the idols were performing there, each wearing new outfits for this event (shapes fest had a lot of energy like it was grandfest 2.0)

there was a part where i was taking a bunch of Marina pics cuz she looked cute in the outfit she was wearing (which i don't remember, but it looked vaguely like a mix between her grandfest + suffer no fools outfit)

after the turf war part that i don't remember a whole lot on, cut to a scene where me and the family are out going to store: specifically Target

we had all split up to buy whatever we needed and i came across some cousins there were shopping there too, so we chatted for a long time (some of the store assistants would join our conversations too). it turns out that the shapes splatfest was BIG in town. even the ppl who weren't gamers were talking about it, including my cousins

"triangles are obviously peak. like, they're mountains. they literally have a peak." ok bro

after what felt like a long time, the unimaginable happened..... on a big screen display, inside target, the SPLATFEST RESULTS were announced for all of us to see. everyone inside the store froze to watch the results... for every score that showed on-screen, me & everyone inside that store was excitedly reading the numbers out like, like how the audiences do in gameshows

the sneak peek scores were won by Team Circle, whose numbers i don't remember exactly, but the POPULARITY VOTES WERE INSANE: circle (80%) -> triangle (10%) -> square (10%)

and finally the clout appeared..... winning the Open and Tricolor clout....... was Team Circle. and when the clout numbers appeared, ME AND EVERY PERSON IN TARGET WAS CHEERING SO LOUD- we were celebrating, applauding & hugging each other like we won the lottery or some shit

and my ass was over here going: "YESS!!!! THE CIRCLE!! INFINITE SHAPES!! INFINITE- LIKE THE FUTURE!! TEAM FUTURE!!! ZERO IS INFINIIIITE!!!"

once we all calmed our asses down, a cutscene played immediately after the results, daylight outside in-game (as always after announcements)

a few team circle inklings & octolings were standing around in the city, the splatfest decorations still hanging around. one of the inklings go: "we won, but i'm hearing people say that we lost..."

things then took a turn for the worst

nighttime fell across the sky, like darkness covering the world. a vehicle rolls up in the center of the city, with this bowl structure attached to chains... then suddenly... Mr. Grizz appears from inside the bowl!

when he's speaking, the dialogue box doesn't appear, it's just text. his voice had his dialogue voice tone, but he was speaking in english. music started playing: like slowed-down circus music that sounded distorted & unsettling, with a choir sounding like it was mourning.

once he stepped out the bowl thing, mr grizz then placed a hand on each inkling/octoling's head. one by one, they all transformed into little bears that then shriveled up into these sad-looking teddy bears. they were still sentient, but could not talk or move, lying on the ground making distressed cries.

then the scene faded to black with text at the bottom, like it was the end of a nintendo direct. then the mr. grizz cutscene played a second time, for those inside the store that missed it (when it replayed, the dream's pov switched to the game, so everything was in full screen and the music was amplified)

...... that was when i woke up lol

#now that i think about it #since this splatfest had grandfest energy #and all the idols were there #it would make more sense if team triangle was the third option #cuz thatd mean deep cut would represent it #with it having three sides n stuff cuz splatoon *three*#splatfest #weird dreams #splatoon #splatoon 3 #loafbud #splatloafbud #my art

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charmedreincarnation · 2 years ago

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Hey angels! I’m still on break but I wanted to show you guys how powerful the law is, and how it’s in effect with everything even when we don’t notice!

Here’s everything I’ve manifested in this year alone !

🌸70,000$ in school scholarships. My tuition does not even cost that much so most of it will be coming back to my credit card shortly

🌸an older sister. I’m the oldest child in my household, and as any older sibling knows it’s so hard. You have to lead, yet have no one to look up to for advice yourself. Anyways my dad got in touch with his old wife, and my mom who was once reluctant to let my half siblings in my life, now encouraged it! My older half sister is literally just like me. We now FaceTime, she defends me when I’m scared, she buys me stuff all the time because she has hella money, and I go to her apartment for sleep overs. I am very lucky and happy to finally have the older sister I’ve always wanted.

🌸an old friendship! I remember in 2020 I was friends with this girl and we were both super depressed, had similar circumstances, and were into manifesting+astrology. I’m sure she’s one my twin flame, and the friendship ended over the dumbest thing ever. Anyways for a year I used dumb methods like the 333 method, sp methods to get her to text me, stuff like that. I ended up giving up but earlier this year I was thinking about her, yanno just wondering where she is. She sent me a heart felt apology the next day. I manifested her without even trying!

🌸All As in school without trying.

🌸losing weight the more I eat. Y’all I’m 5’5 and 112 pounds, yet I eat like an Olympic gold medalists. I don’t even eat healthy and knowing myself.. well that’s something that’s not going to change lol. Anytime I would eat a lot, I would just say the more I eat, the more I lose and the healthier I am…and I never gained a single pound. Only lost! Don’t worry I’m still healthy and my doctors say I’m in a healthy range still, so as long as that continues healthily I’m fine.

🌸my family winning the lottery through the void state. I won’t say specific numbers but it’s in the 7 figure range, and was my first void success! I’m going to keep manifesting and exploring the void to have more stuff in the future!

🌸(dumb) but clearing my name in the unique situation. i remember just affirming the truth always comes out and she got exposed a few hours later. aside from the hate from her anons, I left the situation unscathed for the most part 😮‍💨

🌸not having seasonal depression this year. I did not manifest my depression or anxiety away for personal reasons, before anyone starts! But due to the combination of manifesting and just having a better overall life, it honestly did not affect me much this year.

🌸getting results from subliminals without even listening to them. I left my subliminal era a couple of years ago, and I don’t really use them anymore. But sometimes I come across a really cool one with dope benefits, and I want to use it bc.. why not lol. But I don’t really like listening to them, so I just wrote down that I can listen to it once and after that my brain memorizes the sequence and it works it out repeatedly even when it’s not playing and I’ve definitely noticed results.

🌸manifesting my best friend’s cancer away! I already made a post about this, but this was my favorite manifestation of this year.

🌸every single one of my shifts

🌸so many free things!

🌸and so much more, but these are my favorites!

#law of assumption #manifesation #void state #manifesting #void success #reality shifting

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krautundkimchi · 6 months ago

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Im Sol gave the lottery numbers to her brother not to ensure he or the family gets rich, she knows they never needed it to be happy, but so that her best friend does not regret choosing her brother. She did it for their future happiness.

And you dare question her intentions?

#Best girl Im Sol #Sharpening my nails for the next episodes #kim hye yoon #lovely runner #im sol #byeon woo seok #ryu sun jae #tae sung #song geon hee

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shangchiswife · 8 months ago

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dating aragorn headcanons!

hi guys this is the first time in a while that i've written something so i hope that you enjoy. i just recently rewatched lord of the rings and i'm obsessed with aragorn again so here are some headcanons!

aragorn x gn!reader

Aragorn is the biggest gentleman ever. You basically won the lottery when you started dating him.

The lyrics “In a world of boys he’s a gentleman” are about him 100%. Taylor Swift you are not slick at all.

Do not be fooled by his rugged looks, this man is the biggest romantic. He will plan the most romantic dates for the two of you even when he’s busy trying to be King. Even when he’s busy with his kingly duties he will still find a way to shower you with affection. Whether it’s leaving little love notes on your nightstand or bringing you a flower bouquet, he always wants you to make sure that you know that he’s thinking about you.

Aragorn’s love language is through acts of service. He wants to do everything for you. You are his first priority. You’re not feeling well? He’ll drop everything in his schedule to make sure you’re alright. Your weapons aren’t clean? He’ll clean them no problem. You’re cold? Bro will gladly take off his shirt and give it to you so that you’re not cold anymore.

When you guys were trekking through Middle Earth this man made sure that you got as much rest as possible

“Aragorn it’s my turn to take watch” you had said, rubbing your eyes with exhaustion. He walked over to you and put a hand on your shoulder. “You’re still tired, rest, sweet one, I’ll take care of it.” “But-” “No buts,” he said as he pushed you down gently. “Alright well I’m taking your shift tomorrow night,” you grumbled as you put your head in his lap and immediately fell asleep.

Let's just say he didn’t let you take the shift the next day.

He is soooo overprotective of you. He’s always been very protective over those he cares about but he’s especially protective over you since you’re his number one priority. Aragorn's actions are driven by genuine concern and love. He simply cannot bear the thought of losing those he holds dear and will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.

He’s the person who taught you how to fight. You were so embarrassingly bad at first but Aragorn never once made fun of you. He was patient even as you started getting annoyed with training. He was determined to make you a great fighter and it worked.

During the fellowship, you fought fearlessly alongside Aragorn and took down hundreds of orcs together. At one point, Merry even playfully called you guys a power couple because of how hard you both fought together, which made you both grin at each other.

You and Aragorn are basically the hobbits’ parents. They all love you so much and look up to you both with the utmost respect. You both admire them a lot too. Their loyalty and determination never fail to inspire both of you to keep going, even when things get tough and the future feels uncertain.

You’re also best friends with Gimli and Legolas. They have so much respect for you. They are also always trying to one-up each other when it comes to you so they can be your favorite. Spoiler alert you could never choose between them!

Gimli often pretends to be grossed out by displays of affection between you and Aragorn, and likes to tease the two of you with mock disgust. “Oh, just get a room already!” he’d say which would make you and Aragorn laugh. However, deep down, he secretly harbors a soft spot for romance and enjoys witnessing the love and affection between you two. He may grumble and groan about it on the surface, but in reality, he finds it heartwarming to see the bond you share and the happiness you bring each other.

Aragorn isn’t really big on PDA but once you’re alone together, he's affectionate and attentive, making sure you feel cherished and cared for in every moment you share.

In public, he keeps it subtle with affection, but every now and then, he'll gently caress your palms or hold your hand, just enough to let you know he's there. It's his quiet way of showing love without drawing too much attention.

This man loves to give you forehead kisses. Whether you're feeling on top of the world or weighed down by the challenges of the day, Aragorn's forehead kisses are his way of saying that he’s always going to be there for you.

You often find yourself snuggled against his chest, your hand resting over his heart while his arm encircles you protectively. His fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, a soothing sensation that relaxes you.

He also has the softest singing voice. It’s so pretty. He mostly sings old Elvish tunes but sometimes he’ll sing some songs in English.

You and Aragorn both share a love for animals, and you often find yourselves adopting stray creatures in need of a home. He's clearly a dog person through and through (I don't make the rules), but he has a soft spot for cats as well.

You love it when Aragorn tells you stories about his past. Whenever he starts recounting his adventures, you're all ears, completely mesmerized by his past. Secretly he loves your fascination with his stories and it fills him with a quiet sense of warmth.

You have a shared love for adventure and often find yourselves exploring new places together, whether it's hiking through scenic landscapes or just going around Gondor.

He is also the best listener. You tend to yap a lot but he does not seem to care at all. He will listen attentively, asking questions every so often, drinking in your every word. He always wants to make sure that you feel heard.

Aragorn also dreams about starting a family with you. He's always imagined the joy of being a father and raising children together, but he'll only take that step if you're both on board and excited about it. Your comfort and readiness are his top priorities, and he wants nothing more than to embark on this adventure together, hand in hand.

#lord of the rings x reader #aragorn x reader #lord of the rings imagines #aragorn imagine #lotr x reader #lotr imagine #viggo mortensen x reader

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year ago

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One Missed Call

➪the one where bradley hasn’t won a match since you left him, and he finally decides to break his promise to himself.

Warnings: boxer bradley, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, descriptions of injuries, mentions of fighting, swearing, bradley is kind of a dick in this ngl, angst all the way, could have another part if i get inspired (just watched bleed for this and i need an outlet), probably the quickest piece i have ever written, so sorry if it sucks

Word Count: 2k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Six time champ, Bradley Bradshaw, faces his fifth loss since getting back into the ring,”

That single sentence played on repeat in Bradley’s head as he sat on the couch of his living room.

His best friend rushed around him as she tried her best to patch up the mess his opponent made of his face an hour or so ago. Her hands held multiple blood stained towels and her face was twisted up in concern, but he didn’t pay her any attention as he watched himself get the shit beaten out of him on the TV screen.

“You shouldn’t be watching that right now,” she muttered as she wiped away a fresh stream of blood rather roughly. He winced, his mind instantly comparing her harshness to the way you used to clean him up much more gently. And now he was thinking about you again, and how fucking disappointed he made you. “You might have a concussion, and the screen will fuck with your eyes.”

He grunted as she stuck a white bandaid on his left temple. “Enough, Nat,” he grunted, gently pushing her hands away from his face. “I’m fine.”

She glared at him as she stood to her full height. “You’re fine? Bradley, you haven’t been fine since Y/n left. You haven’t won a match in months. And you think you’re fine?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, a scoff leaving his mouth afterwards. “Whatever, mom,”

Nat laughed humorlessly as she tossed the towels onto the coffee table in front of him. “Okay,” she muttered, grabbing her bag and bending down to press a harsh kiss to the bruise that formed on his cheek. “Let me know when you locate the guy who isn’t a grumpy prick. That’s the version of you we all miss. I’ll text you tomorrow, if I feel like it.” They both knew she would, whether she felt like it or not.

And then she left and Bradley was refraining from throwing the remote directly at the TV screen. His face ached beyond belief, and he knew the trash talking he did in between punches did not help his case as that guy really did a number on him.

In a way, he felt like he deserved to feel more pain than he did right now. He knew this was nothing compared to the amount of pain he put you through, and he wanted himself to hurt just as bad.

He watched himself take the final punch of the night that had him down on the mat within seconds, and how Hansen Carpenter lifted his hand in victory and grinned as if he won the lottery.

Congrats, man. You beat Bradley Bradshaw. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last, so take a fucking chill pill.

Bradley scoffed again and turned the TV off, tossing the remote aside and leaning back against the couch. As he sat in the quiet house, his mind betrayed him as he began to think about you again.

How he had managed to fuck up the best thing in his life, he’d never know.

You really were the only thing he had going for him other than his career and title, and he let you go without a fight. It was his fucking job to fight, yet he couldn’t even do it for you.

The house felt empty, even though you had only been living with him - officially - for about three months before he broke up with you. Despite being with you for nearly five years, you hadn’t decided to move in together until around half a year ago.

You practically lived with him, anyway, but it was official for only a few months before he let himself get too caught up in his own head, which later resulted in him taking it out on you.

Really, he was a coward. He never jumped at the countless opportunities he had with you, and instead put all his focus on boxing.

Oh, there was a high chance he could win within the first five rounds? Sign him up.

Someone was betting half a million dollars on him? Tell him a time and place.

You wanted to take the next step and put a downpayment on a house together? Maybe sometime within the next few years or so.

He really didn’t deserve you, and it was a wonder how you put up with him for half a decade.

Bradley looked down at his phone that was on the couch beside him, and without thinking much of it, he grabbed it and held it between his sore fingers. He didn’t need to scroll far to find your number since he hadn’t changed you from his top contact yet, and he probably never would.

When you walked out and left him in this exact room all those months ago, Bradley promised himself that he wouldn’t call you or try to win you back. If you couldn’t understand him and his career choice, then you clearly weren’t the right girl for him.

But he knew you were. You are the right girl for him, but he was too hung up on his own ego to actually try to get you back. And now he feared he was too late.

He was already feeling embarrassed, so why not go all the way?

He clicked on the call button and brought his phone up to his ear, waiting what felt like a lifetime before he was forwarded to your inbox.

Of course he got your voicemail. He wasn’t expecting you to actually answer him, so he wasn’t super disappointed that he was met with your sweet voice asking him to leave you a message.

And, God, was your voice sweet. It was probably the sweetest sound he had ever heard in his entire life, and it matched well with your overall personality. You were far too kind for your own good, and had been way too understanding with him throughout your relationship.

Though he really wanted to, he couldn’t blame you for leaving, especially since he practically forced you out the door.

Bradley looked ahead at his beaten and bruised face through the screen of the TV, and he felt as pathetic and worn out as he looked. “Y/n,” he mumbled after he heard the obnoxious beep that indicated he should probably start talking before the call hung up itself. What did he have to lose? “I miss you, babygirl.”

He had no right to be calling you right now, nor did he have the right to be saying that he misses you when he’s the reason you’re gone.

But he was selfish. He always had been when it came to you.

He wanted you to support him and didn’t care much for your concerns about his well being. He wanted you there and in his corner at every single match and wasn’t fazed by the way you cowered away every time he took a punch. He wanted you all to himself, but never gave you the time of day when he really needed to get his act together and progress his relationship with you.

Bradley was selfish before you, while he was with you, and now after you.

You were right. He will never change.

“I fucked up tonight, again,” he muttered as he looked down at the blood stained towels in front of him. His mouth tasted like metal and he could smell the rustic scent of copper every time he inhaled, and he truly could not believe how much of a mess he is. “I really thought I could win this one, but you know how I talk out of my ass whenever I’m in that ring, and I did it tonight.”

He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to get out of this, but the thought of you maybe listening to it was what had him continuing this embarrassing show of emotions.

“I told this Hansen guy that he fights like my old man, and how he’s dead, and then I got my ass handed to me,” he grunted, rubbing his sore nose and wincing at the sharp pain he felt because of it. “It was going fine before that. I went eight rounds straight with the guy before he fucking floored me, and all it took was me thinking about you.”

He felt like a complete loser for admitting this, but it also felt easier to be open with himself when it came to you. It had always been like that, and he was fucking stupid for thinking he could find someone better than you.

Truly, there was no one else he wanted other than you, and he’s known that pretty much since the day he met you, so why couldn’t he swallow his pride and fight for you instead of with you was another thing he’d never know.

“One single thought about you and I got too into my own head to realize what was going on around me,” he shamelessly informed you of the hold you still had, and probably will always have, over him. “I think about you all the time, baby. All the fucking time. You should’ve been there tonight. You should’ve been there last time. You should be here right now. But I know why you’re not.”

His face burned from both the impacts of Hansen’s gloves and from the way he was getting caught up in the thought of you.

Everything reminded him of you. Even this exact couch held far too many memories with you to count. The amount of nights he spent with you on these very cushions had him shifting uncomfortably as he tried to push away those thoughts.

He didn’t even deserve to be talking to you right now, let alone thinking about all the ways he’s gotten you off on this old and worn out piece of furniture. “I know it’s my own fucking fault, I know that, but it still fucking hurts,” he laughed and pressed his arm against his abs that were just as sore as his face. “The amount of fights I’ve been in, the amount of hits I’ve taken, none of them compare to how much it hurt to lose you. How much it still hurts.”

While he wasn’t one to cry at all, Bradley felt his eyes beginning to burn as he replayed the exact moment you left him, as well as the exact words he said to you.

“I know what I told you, okay? I know what I said. I was wrong, babygirl,” he rasped, curling in on himself as he tried to find the right words to say. “I didn’t mean it. I should have never told you to leave. I should have never yelled at you. I feel so bad, baby, all the time.”

He moved to lay on his side, his cheek pressing against the armrest a bit uncomfortably, but he didn’t care. This was the first time he allowed himself to really get it all out since breaking up with you, and he hated how he couldn’t find the courage to actually say all of this to you in person. Not that you’d let him, anyway.

“I want you back, Y/n,” he finally admitted to what he’s been too full of himself to say out loud. “I want you so bad. You were my girl, baby. You were so good to me, and I fucked it up. I miss you so much, and I promise you I’ll do better. I’ll be better for you, I swear, just please…come back to me.”

He ended the call after that and tossed his phone onto the table next to the towels he would definitely have to throw out since no amount of cold water and bleach could save them.

Bradley felt beyond pathetic now, but it was nothing compared to the feeling that took over his body when he woke up the next morning, still on the couch, and with a single notification on his phone.

One Missed Call from My Girl.

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