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almostempty · 3 months ago

Text

Kick and Scream

Self Esteem Part 3

Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel catches you on a date and communicates how he feels about it (the only way he knows how).

Warnings: fuckboy!Joel, dub con, smut, pwp, unprotected piv sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, public sex, blow job, reader is still sippin' on some dumb bitch juice for Joel (me), jealous!joel, possessive!joel, emotionally manipulative but sexually proficient Joel, toxic breadcrumbing Joel fucks, smash and dash, no use of y/n, AU no outbreak, special guest appearance by date night dave, OOC Dave bc I don’t know that man so I made him single, rich, hot, and pervy idc idc idc, more i might be forgetting rn,

Notes: please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration

Thanks: to EVERYONE who read part 1 and 2, but ESPECIALLY @auteurdelabre for inspiring, I hope you enjoy it bb. I'll try to tag those who specifically asked for more brb, and @strangergraphics

WC: 9.3K (idk it got long and horny heheh)

AO3: HERE | Masterlist: Here

Part 1: Self Esteem

Part 2: Want You Bad

Part 4: The more you suffer

You stare down at the hand that just landed on your thigh, cocking your head in assessment. You can feel the scowl tugging at the corners of your mouth. As you work out what expression you should paste onto your face instead, the man sitting next to you seems unbothered. Maybe even encouraged? He continues his lecture about the benefits of indoor rock climbing. You sigh, staring across the park as he continues without pausing to breathe.

You watch the couples milling around the park, wondering if that’s what you look like with this guy's hand on your leg. You stare back down at it, his long fingers shifting slightly as he continues his animated speech. Sweat beads at the back of your neck, and you feel fidgety. Trapped under the weight of his limp hand. He doesn’t seem to notice when you squirm and readjust. He’s circled back to his earlier lecture about how you just have to learn to play an instrument. If he’d let you get a word in, you could verify that you already do, but he seems to prefer the sound of his own voice.

This guy should get a podcast. The kind where a guy with a microphone talks to himself for three hours about whatever he wants. He’d crush it. You laugh to yourself, unintentionally encouraging him with your smile. He’s not not good-looking. But you’d prefer someone interested in asking you at least one question.

You stifle a laugh at the intrusive thought of taking him home and stripping his clothes off while he prattles on about amateur bird-watching, sorry–birding, or unicycling.

Eventually, you extricate yourself from the disappointing date, accept an awkward hug, and turn down dinner. You haven’t left the parking lot yet when your phone buzzes.

Unsaved number: had a great time with u

Unsaved number: would love to see u again :)

It’s not that your skin crawls, but it is a full-body no.

You: thanks, I’m glad I got to know you more

It’s not technically a lie. You’re glad you learned he’s not a fit for you. You feel okay about leaving it at that for now. You watch the sunset from your parking spot. The park is filled with couples laying on blankets being romantic. You roll your eyes at them and then at yourself for being bitter. Your phone buzzes again, and you wince, hoping it’s not your long-winded date again. It’s not.

Joel: what you doing?

Fucking Miller. You scoff aloud in the private space of your front seat. By now, he should be on your blocked list, but the quick hit of euphoria that floods through your bloodstream, warming your cheeks, keeps you hooked. He’s a filthy drug that blinds you from logic or survival instincts. Your eyes dart to the pedestrians in the parking lot. Worried. As if the milling strangers know what you’re up to and are about to shame you. A little voice reminds you that if you feel guilty about something, you shouldn’t be doing it. You ignore that voice. Nobody in the parking lot catches on, coast clear, and you let yourself grin wide as a fool when you type your response.

Later that night, you’re grinning again. Sprawled across your couch, sweaty skin plastered to the faux leather cushions. Sated. Bought and sold on your own lie, you tell the little voice that you didn’t want Joel to stay anyway. You convince yourself some form of compromise is happening, however twisted, when he shows up and leaves you wrecked. He comes to you. You don’t have to get to know each other to make each other feel good. Whatever puts you at ease.

Sometimes it works. Some days, you feel hollow and anxious. Obsessively tapping your phone to see if he’s responded when you reach out first. Pacing around your home, stressing over whether you should stay up just in case and even in bed, you can’t help but stay alert for a knock at the door.

The cycle leaves you with dark circles under your eyes most days. But, on the mornings after Joel shows up, you have a bright twinkle in your eyes and a knowing smirk that greets you in the bathroom mirror. Katie noticed the smirk one day and called you out. She demanded an explanation for the mystery dick fairy.

You wouldn’t admit his identity to her, afraid of getting too involved with someone in her boyfriend's network. But you did admit to the toxic cycle, and your friend was not as amused as you when you tried to pass it off as a joke. She tried to convince you to look for someone to date, but you argued that wasn’t what you wanted anyway. She suggested at least someone who could commit to a plan or send a text back. You knew it didn’t sound great out loud.

As the days of summer crawl along, you wonder if she’s right. At least, it was worth considering. It’s a feeble attempt to smother your spiraling thoughts about Joel. Still, when you start getting messages from the dating app Katie chose for you, it gives you something to interrupt your racing thoughts. At first. Somehow, it starts to feel even worse. Ignoring the sinking feeling you get when it isn’t Joel’s name in your notifications gets more challenging.

You had accepted that it was a lost cause to plan anything with him, but you still can’t find the self-respect to turn him away when he shows up at your door. Sometimes, he sends you a grammatically inconsiderate text. You wonder if he somehow has a cell phone plan that still charges him by the message with the way he uses as few words as possible.

He never stays. Never invites you to his. He evades any predictable behavior. Maybe he’s worried someone ordered a hit on him. Maybe that’s all it is, you muse. Not a contracted kill. The unpredictability. Chaos. That’s what makes him addictive. The brightness of the highs makes you temporarily forget the darkest lows exist. That, and the dirty little thoughts that pour from his mouth and drip into your psyche. That stupid, sexy voice burning into your memory, yeah, that’s definitely addictive. You snort at that. I am unwell, you think. As you pick up your phone again, you see a message from someone new.

\\\///

Heat radiates off your face as you fling another shirt across the room. You’ve tried on the same three outfits over and over again. Ripping them over your head and tossing them into the pile of laundry purgatory. Maybe sweating and mouth-breathing is a turn-on for your date; if so, you’re gonna nail the first impression. You sigh and commit to option two: the little black dress. A classic, right?

“Shit,” you curse at yourself when you stumble while attempting to pull your shoes on as you walk down the hall. This is what you get for agreeing to a late evening date on a weeknight; you feel like a mess. Scrambling to play it cool and classy, you pause to recalibrate before opening the door. What was his name? You can’t remember. He didn’t look like your usual type, but Katie had convinced you to branch out a little. More specifically, she told you it was a green flag already if he wasn’t your type.

You swing the door open, hoping he introduces himself first. He looks expensive. The dark-washed denim, the boots, the jacket, and the watch. Like he walked out of an ad campaign for a brand out of your budget. Dave. He does introduce himself, thankfully. He’s more clean-cut than your usual type, but he speaks confidently and gives off an air of put-togetherness that intrigues you. His voice definitely stirs the butterflies in your stomach.

Oh. You realize you’ve definitely been busy staring at him and have no idea what he actually said with his sultry bedroom voice. Your eyes widen a little. You don’t wanna fuck this up and embarrass yourself. Luckily, he seems unbothered. He tilts his head with a seductive half-smile. He’s enjoying the way you assess him. That definitely does it for you. Stupid, smug men making you weak in the knees.

“You ready?” he asks, voice all smoky for no good reason.

“Yeah,” you manage to say as you recall how to speak and act human. Until you see his luxury car waiting for you. He clocks your beat of hesitance.

“Good.”

His authoritative voice flips the right switch in you, and you let him lead. When he opens the door for you, it’s like the final component of his spell. You are bewitched. Under a thick veil, you didn’t even notice the truck that rolled by as you sank into the leather seat. You didn’t notice when the truck pulled over up the block, idling noisily on the quiet street. No, you were busy, focused on manually breathing and taking in what you’d describe as the interior of a spaceship.

The good news is that Dave is charming. He is easy to talk to as he drives. Flirty and quick-witted. He asks you questions and pauses to consider your responses. You aren’t sure you have much in common, but you like his self-assured demeanor.

When you walk into the club he’s brought you to, you hesitate once again, feeling underdressed. The club is split with a lounge on one side of the bar–full of intimate booths and plush chairs surrounding tiny tables and trendy mood lighting. Kind of like a swanky hotel lobby, you decide. On the other side of the bar is a dance floor, dimly lit with loud music blasting. Women in bodycon dresses and heels fill the room. You feel plain in comparison.

“I didn’t know there was a dress code,” you mutter.

“There isn’t,” Dave asserts, “besides, you look good in this.” He accentuates his statement by running his hand down your spine. It settles some of your nerves and lights up others. He ushers you, hand on your lower back, towards a small booth. And as you settle in, he’s undeniably charismatic. Dave doesn’t reveal much about himself but keeps you laughing and seems genuinely interested in you.

Despite the loud music and people noise, it’s easy to feel like the room is only for you and him. You sip your drink and warm up to his affection. You’re quick to smile, and despite how serious he seems, he has a playful edge that has you on your toes.

You can taste the chemistry between you, bright and sparkling. He spurs your confidence with his dark eyes when he not so subtly lets his gaze linger on your body. You stop shying away from attention and try to bask in it instead. It boosts your ego and stirs up your desire.

When you let yourself look, really look, you decide Dave is handsome. His strong features, broad shoulders, and impeccable grooming work for him. He seems meticulous but not too uptight to have fun. A dark sense of humor flirts behind his twinkling dark eyes. You decide to let him know that you’ve determined he is a handsome man. He gives you a look. Like he already knew you thought that. Your cheeks warm slightly at that. Were you obvious?

It’s not until he peels away from you to refill your drinks that you notice how close you have been sitting. You mourn the loss of his body heat as he walks away. You had low expectations after your last few dates, but tonight, this feels different. Your eyes trail along his path to the bar, and you lazily rest your chin in your palm before your breath hitches, and you freeze.

You feel like you’ve swallowed a bowling ball. It’s lodged in your throat first, then constricting your chest, until finally, it sinks. A heavy, solid weight flipping your stomach. You’re locked on a different set of dark eyes. They’re glowering at you through lowered brows from across the room. Seated at the same bar where Dave ordered your drinks.

Joel stares at you over his drink. He downs the glass without taking his eyes off of you. One quirked brow, asking really?

Really what? Is he judging you? For what, being on a date?

Another glass replaces his empty tumbler, but he doesn’t acknowledge the bartender or the rest of the world.

This fucking guy.

The bowling ball in your gut mutates into something fiery. But, you have nothing to be guilty about. It’s not your fault he’s alone, bitter, and drinking at a bar full of people having more fun than him. In fact, you could say it’s his fault that you’re both here.

A scowl forms on Joel’s face when Dave slides back into the booth beside you. Good. You hope he suffers. You hope he sees how easy it is for someone to treat you well. And how happy you look.

You don’t hesitate to lean your body against Dave, giving in to your urges. You squeeze his arm when he makes you laugh, and your touch lingers. He preens under your admiration when you comment on his firm biceps. He is quick to match your advances. Finding excuses to brush your hair behind your ear and settling a heavy palm on your knee. His hand creeps a little higher up your thigh but doesn’t graze the hem of your dress. Respectful. That’s different.

You don’t need to look again to feel Joel’s eyes burning into you. It incites you that he has the audacity. The gall to make faces at you for showing up on a date. You decide you’ll give Joel something to scowl about, feeling emboldened by your date’s touch.

You slide Dave’s hand further up your leg, letting go when he gets the idea. You reach for your drink, feigning nonchalance, but your breath catches, and your hand trembles when he traces his fingertips around the crease of your thigh. He skirts beneath the hem of your underwear, drawing lines over your hip and back towards your center.

The soft touch tickles deliciously, and you feel the anticipation building in your core. He watches your expression, hawklike, noting the tiniest details in the features of your face. He notes when your breath stutters or your eyelids flutter softly.

“This what you wanted?” he husks, still watching intently. Yes, yes, yes!

“Almost,” you toy. Something about having both men’s eyes on you has your skin itching with desire and your blood running hot.

Dave scoffs softly, repeating your word choice and shaking his head. Almost.

“You looking for more?” he taunts as he wedges his large hand fully between your legs to cup and tease your cunt.

You can’t help the breathlessness of the yes that slips out of you. You roll into his palm, and your mouth parts at the friction and his boldness. He smiles wolfishly, flashing his teeth, when he feels you twist and rock against him. His look encourages you. And you tilt your hips and shift your legs to give him better access.

“Dirty little thing, aren’t you?” he asks, still locked on your face. You swell at this. His eyes lower to your glossy lips before he sips casually from his drink, so composed.

Your cheeks warm at his words, but he has his answer when he slips a finger beneath the damp lace between your legs and drags it through the pool of arousal gathering at your entrance. Your lips part at the contact, chest heaving, and you give him a nod and coy smile in response to his question. You’ll be his dirty little thing tonight.

“That’s good,” he declares, pressing a kiss just below your ear before adding, “I’d like to do dirty things to you.”

His husky voice and declaration stir an urgent need to be touched within you. He continues to agitate your nerves as his hand massages over your swollen sex. Your skin feels tight and prickly, tensing, ready to feel more. You’re unconcerned with the debased nature of being fingered in public.

When your eyes are instinctually drawn back towards Joel, you shudder. You can feel the twitching of your clit as your cunt floods over Dave’s fingers. The depravity that another man’s glare eases the slip of your date’s teasing touch is not lost on you. Instead, it turns you on even more. Joel’s homicidal stare has you squirming. You’ve seen darkness in his eyes before, but not like this. There’s no twinkle of mocking, and it’s not cruel in a hot way. If looks could kill, then this room would look like the club scene from Blade.

Dave murmurs something filthy in your ear that makes you gasp. Your hand flies to his thigh, gripping tightly to keep you from melting onto the floor.

“Don’t be shy, dirty girl,” he croons darkly, “you can touch.”

“Fuck,” you groan under your breath when you move your hand to find his hard cock straining against his well-fitted jeans.

He chuckles lowly at the way your eyes widen in response before he plunges two fingers inside of you, and you stifle a throaty sound. Your mind still wanders to Joel, and you wonder if he can see your perverse display below the table. Judging by his clenched fists on the bar, you’d say whatever he can see is enough to fill in the blanks. The sick part of you that feels more turned on by his agony expands within you.

“Oh god,” you whisper as you suck in air.

Dave works his fingers lazily into you. You feel intoxicated by the attention of both men. A concern flashes through you that someone else in the club could catch on or see more than you’d like to show. But a feeling in your gut tells you that it doesn’t matter. Dave seems strikingly confident with a lethal attention to detail. And the ferocity on Joel’s face only eggs you on.

When you think of humbling Joel, a sinister smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. He’s the one that unleashed the horny, risk-taking monster within you and then disappeared. Fuck moping about him. You’re getting yours, you decide.

You shoot Joel a wink. Pouring gasoline on the fire, hoping it pisses him off.

You lean into the salaciously tempting energy radiating off of Dave. Reaching to hold his jaw as your lips lock and you let him control your mouth. Kissing him riles you up more. You palm at his erection over his jeans, delighting in the noises that roil deep in his chest. You hold back whimpers as the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you finds the perfect spot.

He pulls back from your kiss and looks down to watch your hand groping at him. You like watching him watch you.

“You gonna take it out?” Oh. Fuck, you want to. It feels like more of a risk than you’ve taken so far.

“Here?” you ask him softly.

A wrinkle appears between your brows. Dave watches your swollen lips again just as your pink tongue darts out to wet them. He raises a brow at you, eyes dropping to where his arm disappears under your dress.

“Oh, are you feeling bashful now?” he goads. His fingers curl against that sensitive spot inside of you as his palm presses firmly into your swollen clit. He makes it hard for you to answer. You try to pout at him, but the reflexive rise in your brows at the pleasure betrays you. He chuckles again. “No? Just distracted, hm?”

“Fuck,” is all you can mouth. It is distracting. Not the fingers inside you, well, not completely, but the urge. The craving to leverage your lewd new lover’s lack of regard for appropriate behavior into emotional revenge. The thought of Joel growing mad with jealousy as he watches you come overtakes your critical thinking.

Eat your heart out, Joel Miller! You dare him across the room, letting your jaw fall slack and your brows knit in obvious pleasure.

“Are you going to come for me?” Dave asks, “Here in this booth? Where anyone could see?” he tuts like he’s disappointed, and it works. The danger of it all does something to heighten your senses. It’s blinding. The bass from the music blaring from the dance floor rattling in your ribs, Dave’s designer cologne filling your nose, the sheen of sweat collecting on your chest, and the daggers in Joel’s eyes when you glance to confirm he’s still watching. All the sensations clash and shove you towards your release.

“Yes,” you hiss quietly, “yes.” Your eyes slam shut as you try to remain composed while riding his fingers under the table. You flicker in and out of reality as your climax rolls through you. You’re drunk on the reversal of power when your eyes peel open, and you see the hardened expression on Joel’s face glowering at you. You wonder if his dick is just as hard in his pants, and the thought has you contracting again around Dave’s fingers.

“That’s a good girl.” Dave’s voice is somehow even deeper. It sends another ripple of pleasure to swirl low in your abdomen. You’d like to hear that again.

With a touch more clarity after the violent edge of your arousal is dulled, your hand works at his belt, desperate to feel the heat of his cock in your palm. He assists, lifting his hips when you unbuckle his belt and pop the button on his pants so you can slide your hand beneath his underwear. His tension and urgency further stoke your power trip, and you feel overcome with the need to know how badly he wants you. When you wrap your fingers around him, hear the groan he makes, and feel the mindless buck of his hips, you have a more than good enough answer. He’s yours.

Dave watches the way your eyes glaze over when your thumb smears the precome dripping from his head down his length. His hand stills distractedly between your legs, and his chin drops as he watches where your hand disappears under his dark boxer briefs. You’re constricted by the elastic waistband, but your grip is tight. Almost as tight as when he fucks his own fist. He’s mesmerized by the way you jerk his cock just right.

You feel yourself salivating with the need to taste him. You’re getting frustrated with the limited space and want to see him in your hand. You sigh, wishing you could, until you realize you can, and grin.

You pull your hand back out of his pants, and he snaps out of his stupor. Before he can comment, you cut him off.

“Keep your pants on and take me to the bathroom so I can suck your cock right.”

Your voice comes out lower than you thought it would. His eyes flare before he matches your devious look and obeys, spewing filthy thoughts you can’t make out under his breath as he does. He’s ushering you down the hall in seconds, and then you’re locking the door and dropping to your knees. Dave doesn’t wait a second longer, wrenching his belt open and dropping his jeans just enough for his cock to spring free.

You don’t tease or start slow. He admires how you waste no time like you’re desperate to taste him. And you are. Only pausing for a moment to admire the way he looks, stiff and leaking for you, before you eagerly wrap your lips around him. You slide your tongue everywhere and bob up and down with vigor. Salty and vaguely sweet, precome teases your palette. You want more. The best you can do to express that is swallow around him and suck until he’s moaning and cursing above you.

You let your saliva pool and spill from your lips so you can slide your hand down the rest of his length while you revel at the weight of him on your tongue. You find the moves that have his fists clenching and thighs straining and repeat them. You hum around him as pride blooms in your chest over how his composure cracks.

You wonder if Joel has smashed through the bar with his fists yet. At least he didn’t break down the bathroom door before you could get on your knees. Would he strangle Dave first if he saw the two of you? Or would he drag you home and gag you on his angry cock instead? You moan obscenely as your imagination runs wild. You look up at Dave. He watches you with fierce eyes. You wouldn’t mind if they shared you, you consider, but that would take a miracle.

You continue messily and enthusiastically until your knees ache, and you decide he has to come for you. You try to beg for it while he’s still in your mouth before you have the brains to pull off of him and tell him what you want. He’s endeared by your unrefined hedonism.

He grips your jaw in his palm when you get the words out.

“You want to swallow my come?” he asks.

“Yes,” you plead impatiently on your knees with a hoarse voice. You’re a pornographic sight on the tile floor with your wet lashes, swollen lips, and saliva glistening on your chin. You open your mouth for him and hold out your tongue.

“Oh,” he strokes his thumb along your cheek, smiling down at you, “that’s a good girl.”

Your eyes close at that, feeling the praise warm your skin before he slides back into your wet mouth.

Guiding you faster and a little rougher, Dave doesn’t take long to come. Spilling onto your tongue as you groan around him until he stops pulsing in your mouth. You swallow, glowing for him with glassy eyes. He helps you to stand before tucking his softening cock back into his jeans and fastening his belt. You’re adjusting your dress and reaching for your bag on the counter.

“What do you need?” He asks a little softer than you expected, causing you to pause.

“Take me home,” you smile at him dopily before pausing and wincing at yourself in the mirror. You look like a freshly face-fucked mess.

“Uh, actually, give me a few minutes to freshen up first, and I’ll meet you out front?”

He nods, “I’ll pull the car up.”

“I’d like that.” You reply and lock the door behind him after he slips out.

Once you feel more presentable, you pull your phone from your bag and tap the screen to check the time before opening the door.

Seeing Joel’s name makes your stomach flip. You open the text.

Joel: Miss me?

It snaps something in you. Something that enrages you. He has to be certifiably insane, you think. It came through a little while ago, but you aren’t sure how long you’ve been in the bathroom. You begin to spiral, debating if you should march to the bar and throw a drink in his face or pretend like he doesn’t even exist. You feel your face burning hot, and the bathroom is suddenly suffocating. You need some air before you get into the car with Dave. Just long enough to breathe normally and look less like you want to break something.

Leaving the bathroom you find an employee exit further down the hall. A faded sign on the door warns that an alarm will sound, but the rock wedged in the door jam holding it open a crack begs to differ, and you slip into the dark.

A lanky, pale kid in a black apron sits atop a picnic table in the alley.

“Oh, sorry,” you feel a little guilty interrupting his break, “just wanted some air.”

“All good,” he responds before sliding off the makeshift seating. “Last call for the kitchen anyway. Have my seat,” he waves at the table like he’s offering a throne. You accept. Exceedingly grateful to have the air and the privacy to regulate. Just some slow, deep breaths. Then, you can walk out the front door and let Dave take you home.

The door swings open again, and you tense, ready to hop off the table and find another space.

“Sorry,” you start your apology, but it’s cut off.

“You should be,” Joel accuses harshly. He’s in your space with two of his long strides. Rushing at you like you’re caught in a snare trap, and he’s starving. You briefly look the part with your eyes wide in the moonlight, shocked by his sudden appearance, until your barely dampened rage rips from your throat.

“Joel, what the fuck?” you spit out in disbelief, but he interrupts you–

“I thought I already told you what happens if you’re gonna be a filthy tease?” his voice lowers as he ignores your question and paces in front of you with a dark, wicked stare.

“What are you doing here?” you press, ignoring his threat.

“What are you doing here?” he demands. Like he has some certificate of entitlement to your whereabouts. He towers over you. Your eyes narrow to slits. If you could shoot lasers out of them, you’d do it now.

You laugh. Loudly. You’re still laughing when he grabs you and pivots your frame so your legs dangle off of the end of the table towards him. Closer. He gets even closer, standing between your knees. You tilt your face to look up at him.

“You on a date?” it’s a growl carved from stone. You choose to remain ignorant to the shiver it sends through you that has nothing to do with the temperature. How dare he charge up on you like a territorial werewolf in the night? And how dare he look so fucking good with that snarly expression? No. You laugh again. Wild-eyed. Words start coming up before you even hear yourself.

“What is wrong with you, Joel? Why were you watching me? You looking for a show?” you jab. Gnashing at him with your words. He snorts dismissively at you, and a barbaric smile creeps onto his face. Like he’s in on some joke you don’t know about. He irks you so bad your skin crawls.

“S’that what you call it?” he asks, “A show?” Continuing to ignore your other questions. He is so close to you that it burns your skin.

“No, Joel. You were right the first time. I am on a date. A real date. You know what that is, right? Like, he asked me out, picked me up on time, bought me a drink,” you’re tallying on your fingers, “answered my–”

“And then what, you fuck him in the bathroom and hide out here? Alone in the alley?”

It clicks. He knows exactly why you’re flustered. The asshole must’ve sent his text for his own slimy experiment. Trying to rattle you. What fucking game is he playing? Is he trying to win you? Like you’re Dave’s possession to lose?

You scoff at his interjection, “No, Joel, I’m not alone. You followed me out here to make sure of it, right?”

“Right,” he rumbles. His dark eyes glint even in the shadows of the alley. He leans lower and closer to you until you tip back, palms on the table behind you, then elbows. Exposing your cleavage to the moonlight. He pauses, eyes raking down your face, neck, and chest. How does he make you feel raw and vulnerable even when fully dressed?

“You haven’t answered me,” you huff. Irritated and arched beneath him.

“I asked you first,” he argues. A childish rebuttal for a grown man. You’re pretty sure you’ve asked why he’s here a hundred times, but of course, that doesn’t matter. He’s insufferable with his attitude and inability to communicate. Everything about you is taut, and you feel frayed.

Joel dips his head and his lips brush your ear, tickling you, before he rasps, “I asked if you miss me, baby, and you haven’t answered.”

A tremor runs through your body.

It’s criminal. Your mind converts his voice directly into a hot coil of arousal. The throbbing between your legs causes you to wriggle beneath him.

“I need to know,” he croons, begging you to give in.

His arm slides under your back, lowering you onto the table. Your restraint collapses terribly quickly for him. His voice. His touch. He knows all of your buttons.

Laid on your back, your legs instinctively wrap around him as he bends to meet you.

Soft puffs of air shakily flow between your lips as you struggle to concentrate. On what? You aren’t sure. Not good. You squeeze your eyes shut like maybe he’ll disappear.

“I mean it, baby,” he continues purring with a sharp edge, “you tell me when you miss me.”

You know it wouldn’t matter even if you did. If you texted him. If you called. It wouldn’t matter. It would probably make you feel worse. But when he says it, you feel your heart doing flips anyway.

He slides his hands over your body, and you feel the last of your logic escaping as you tug him towards you. You’re grinding against him stupidly without a single thought. Just having him this close to you had you feeling desperate and needy. You could come again right now just by dry-humping like horny teenagers.

The craving for him is so intense that you’ll surely die if he doesn’t keep moving. You lose any shred of composure that you were still clinging to and let out a needy whine for him. And when your fingers twist and tug at his shirt, it’s like a green light to Joel.

He closes any and all gaps between you. His hand skates roughly under your dress, bunching up the fabric. He presses open-mouthed kisses against your neck and grazes his teeth enticingly along your jaw.

Groping, grinding, grunting. All his movements dance a line between deliberate and frantic.

You have tunnel vision, lost from time and space. When his low moan vibrates through you, your hand shoots to his belt. He rasps into your ear again, “That’s it, baby, I’m right here if you miss me, don’t need some jerkoff tryin’ to waste your time.” Your fingers fumble. What– “Oh, shit!” a voice yells. You freeze. “Don’t mind me!” The drunk guy slurs as he stumbles out the backdoor and sways down the alley towards the street.

Your situation hits you like a bucket of cold water. Joel seems unfazed, still curled over you. You push at him and sit up.

“What did you just say, Joel?”

“Hmm?” he murmurs at you.

“Joel, I’m serious. What the fuck?”

He’s not listening. His hands are still searching your body. The scent of his faded deodorant is so familiar in your nose. The words are coming up again. Before he casts his trance on you.

“No. I said I’m serious,” you repeat, “I’m not playing your games. Done with your weird shit.” Your body feels rigid, and your mind is clearing through the fog of lust. “Just because I have no self-esteem and I fuck you anytime you show up on my doorstep doesn’t mean you have any claim to me.”

He blinks at you, finally registering your tone, expression shifting. “I actually tried, you know? I wanted to get to know you. You just bail. I keep suffering for it. Like an idiot. I keep thinking it would show I care.”

“Baby–”

“And now what? You see me on a date and decide it would be fun to ruin it? Ruin a chance at something better than waiting around wondering if you’ll show up looking to score?” You’re on your feet now. Livid. Ablaze in the dark. “No, you don’t even care enough to think about that,” you realize aloud.

His features harden. Your head shakes slowly, exasperated with your burgeoning understanding. All you can hear is the white noise buzzing in your skull. Your next words are quieter and lower, forcing him to pay close attention.

“You just wanted to prove something, right? Thought you’d fuck me on this table and run like you always do? For what, to prove you could?”

His nostrils flare, and you don’t miss how he grits his teeth.

You don’t falter; he doesn’t scare you. You press on with your accusations prickly on your tongue. You back him against the wall next to the door as you continue.

“You don’t like hearing it?” you cock your head at him, amused with his discomfort. “Were you going to leave me here in the alley full of your come like I’m some pathetic whore for you? Would you walk me back to my date after that? Was that your plan?”

Joel snaps, manhandling you in a split second. Pinned against the brick wall, you can hear your heart pounding. It’s a paper-thin line between anger and lust, and you can’t tell which has your blood pumping. You can’t tell if he’s about to yell at you or fuck you. You hate that you can’t tell which you’d prefer.

His eyes are locked onto yours. Not revealing anything. You shift, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He doesn’t keep you waiting. Joel shoves his hand into your panties, fingers slipping immediately into the fresh pool of arousal between your thighs. A shaky exhale comes out of you, but he doesn’t seem to need to blink or breathe anymore.

He brings his glossy fingers to your mouth. Silent. He taps at your lip until you open and suck, tasting yourself. His mask slips a little. One brow twitches as he studies the scene of your lips wrapped around both of his fingers. But his eyes flick to yours when he pulls them out of your mouth and drags them down your bottom lip, smearing spit against your chin.

“Tell me,” he says in a whisper that scrapes across your skin, “does it taste like you miss me?”

You swallow tightly. A lump forms in your throat now, about as large as a civilization-ending asteroid.

You can hear your phone buzzing. Forgotten on the table. Panic streaks over your eyes as you wonder how long you’ve been out here. You duck under his arm, dashing for your phone. You don’t look at him. You can’t. As you sprint down the hallway, you swing the door open, kicking the rock in the door jam, hopefully locking Joel outside. Cursing at yourself for almost letting Joel fuck you in the alley across from a dumpster.

Dave sits in his car, idling along the curb near the front of the club. You’re surprised he didn’t leave. You hope it hasn’t been long. You don’t dare check your phone. Maybe it was only a few minutes, or it could have been an hour. You don’t think time functions normally when you’re around Joel.

Dave is frighteningly observant, slinking out of his car to open the door for you before you get close enough to reach for the handle.

“I was just starting to wonder if you’d snuck out the back door,” he chides.

You feel the blood rushing to the surface of your skin. Hot with embarrassment over your behavior and his on-the-nose word choice.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I did step out for some air. Wanted to cool down.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he assures you, tilting your chin towards his face with his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes dart around his face, wondering what he sees on yours. “Was it too much, dirty girl?” he coos.

“What, this?” you lilt mockingly as you palm over his bulge, “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” he snorts softly. “Get in the car.” He adds as he opens the door for you.

He pauses before pulling away from the curb once seated in the driver’s side.

“Is your boyfriend going to be following us home?”

“My what?” you feel the blood drain from your face.

“The one from the bar,” he continues, measured and eerily calm, “the one who followed us here?” Your head starts spinning at that, but Dave carries on, unbothered. “I assumed he likes to watch. You should’ve told me. It would’ve been easier than wondering if he’s a deranged stalker or–”

“No.” You cut him off and struggle to continue for multiple reasons. “It’s not like that. I thought it was a coincidence,” you feel a confusing mix of emotions.

“Followed us?” you’re curious.

“When I picked you up. In the truck?”

“Oh god. No. He’s,” you pause, searching for the right words.

“An ex?”

“Not even that. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe he’d follow me.”

“So he is dangerous?”

“No.” Only to my self-respect.

“You want me to take care of him?”

“No.” You reply before putting any thought behind what that means. “No. He’s just an asshole with a staring problem.”

You withdraw. You hadn’t thought about why Joel was here. How ridiculous it sounds to imagine Joel voluntarily sitting at the bar in a club like this alone. You feel the blood rushing to your ears. Stupid little butterflies flap their wings in your stomach before they’re reduced to ashes, and you begin to see red again tonight. How is Joel ruining your night without saying a word this time?

“Take me home,” you say firmly.

He does. Dave walks you to your door. You invite him in, but he’s observant, noticing the clouds in your expression. He declines your invite but assures you he would be very interested in seeing you again. He gives you a chaste kiss that makes you laugh, considering how bold you both have been tonight. It lightens your mood.

He lingers for a moment before he pulls out his wallet.

“It was on the house this time,” you snark. Curious about what he’s doing.

He hands you a sleek business card. A business card? Is this guy Patrick Bateman?

Your face wrinkles in confusion.

“I already have your number,” you flip the card over in case you’re missing something. It doesn’t say anything, just has a phone number.

“I meant what I said, that I’d be interested in seeing you again for pleasure,” he smirks, “but if you change your mind, at least keep this.”

You don’t understand why you’d need his work phone number but try to play it cool and nod.

“If your stalker becomes a problem, you call me.”

You’re still confused about what that means when he drives away. As you shut your door, you realize you have no idea what he does.

You’re still in the middle of composing a text to Katie about how her green flag date included a bathroom blowjob and a business card when you hear a knock at your door. You swing it open, assuming foolishly that it would be Dave.

Before you can blink, Joel kicks the door shut and backs you down the hallway. He looks like a man possessed as he hurtles towards you. It sends a chill down your spine that you think would trigger your fight or flight response, but yours seems to be reprogrammed to fight or fuck. Staggering backward, you yelp when the backs of your knees hit your mattress.

“Can I fucking help you?” you snap at him as you realign with reality. “Jesus Christ, Joel, were you waiting outside the window or something?”

You glare into his eyes, but a toxic part of you only wants to focus on his lips. And how close they are to yours. You also can’t deny the even more debauched part of you that flutters at the possessive look in Joel’s eyes.

He laughs darkly, “Nah baby, I knew you’d send him on his way.”

You roll your eyes at that. Cocky bastard.

And he is. He emits a frenzied energy as he takes you in. Looking you up and down like a prize. Like he’s considering where to write his name on your skin.

You roll your shoulders. Trying to shake off the idea that you’d like to be possessed by him, but it thrums persistently inside of you.

“You didn’t know shit, Miller,” you accuse sardonically.

Joel reaches for you. You think he’s going to tell you off. But his hands glide over the tops of your shoulders and up the column of your neck until he’s cupping your jaw in both hands. It feels jarring and vulnerable to be held by him this way. To feel like he just wants to look at you and to know you can’t look away. You wonder what’s going on behind his dark eyes. What he sees when he looks at you What he thinks.

The longer he looks at you, the more the tension builds (of course, because it’s Joel). You start to itch, fingers twitching with the need to grab him and pull his full weight on top of you. Despite your building desire, he’s still quietly reading your face. Joel Miller, the enigma, you muse.

Before you can flip him any shit, his mouth is on yours, and his hands drop to your hips to hold you firmly against his body. You want him to keep holding you there, but closer. You need him even closer.

He groans into your mouth, and you kiss him back hungrily. Your bodies slot together in a twisted fate. You couldn’t care less about the date you just had at this moment. You can hear Joel’s words from previous encounters that have burrowed into your consciousness, and you’re starving for more.

A selfish and greedy satisfaction warms in your chest at him being in your bedroom. He pulls your lower lip between his teeth before breaking away to tease bites along your neck and shoulder. You shiver. Your fingers dig into his shirt, pulling him closer and closer until your knees buckle, and fall into the bed with him on top of you. He doesn’t stop trying to taste you everywhere, trying to feel every part of you. You breathe out single-syllable praise as your thoughts become hazy.

You still feel needy. You writhe and strain as you attempt to work his shirt up his broad frame. You’re insistent on feeling the blistering heat of his skin against yours. He leans back up, out of your grip, causing you to sigh in exasperation. Of course, it couldn’t be this easy. What does he have to say now?

“You want me to leave?”

“What? Why?” you growl out. He is not about to body slam you into a bed and then walk away.

“Thought you were done with my ‘weird shit’ or whatever you called it,” he taunts.

“I am,” you huff.

“Tell me to stop.” You can’t.

“Take your clothes off,” you answer instead.

He does. Then, he’s pulling your clothes off and climbing over you. You aren’t sure you’ve ever both been fully naked like this. Definitely not while in a bed, at least. It’s more intimate than your relationship calls for. It makes time feel syrupy, but your other senses feel sharply tuned. Joel’s breath fans hot over your ear as he tucks his face into the corner of your neck and shoulder.

“So,” he sucks at your delicate skin before continuing in his smoky tone, “your date couldn’t satisfy you?”

“Shut up,” you snarl at him, uninterested in playing games. You’re too lost in the intensity of his physical presence. You need him inside of you, and you tug at his body, trying to pull him closer. It’s useless. His strong arms are braced like two stone pillars on either side of you.

He’s such a pest. His mouth quirks, and he looks all too pleased with himself. You roll your eyes again. You know what he’s getting at. What he wants to hear you say. But, you’re reluctant to stroke his ego. He’s going to be unbearable if. The thorn of it that hurts the most, though, is that it’s not a lie. It’s an admission. A confirmation.

He makes you feel so good in ways nobody else ever could, but the pain of knowing he’ll never be yours eats at you. It feels like exposing your beating heart in your chest to confess you want him so badly. You ache to hear him tell you he only wants you again. Even if it’s not real, you lie to yourself, you just need to hear it.

While you wrestle with finding the words, he begins to torment you. The heat and arousal weigh heavily between your naked bodies. He lowers closer and closer to where you need him most but refuses to alleviate your painful want. Wickedly, he exploits your neediness. Teasing at your skin with his tongue, teeth, and breath.

“Tell me, baby. Just let me hear it,” he says. But you can’t.

When he blows air over your strained nipples, and you arch under him seeking contact, he darts down to kiss at your stomach and inner thighs instead. When he gets closer and closer to the apex of your thighs, grazing his nose over your mound, you could snap.

You reach to dig your fingers into his hair and direct his mouth to your throbbing clit, but he’s stronger than you. Devilish man. He crawls back up to hover over your face. You know he’s enjoying it. Wondering how quickly you’ll break. It makes you want to kick and scream.

“Tell me it’s not true then,” it’s a challenge directed at you, but it feels like he’s also challenging himself.

He drags the head of his cock over the slick lips of your cunt without precision or direction. You are so convinced he’s torturing you, but he looks like he’s in pain from restraining himself as well. It makes you crazy. You try to reach down to line him up with your entrance yourself, but he’s faster. He grabs your hand and pins it above your head.

“Fine,” you grit out. Frustrated. You aim to smother your fear with sarcasm and puff your chest, hoping it works.

“You’re right, Joel. It’s true.” He doesn’t move, waiting to hear more.

“I missed your filthy mouth and your big fat cock.” You mock with an exaggerated whine. You keep going before you lose courage. “And my date couldn’t satisfy me.” You pause, steeling yourself. The corner of his mouth twitches.

“Because even when I had his cock down my throat,” you force yourself to look in his eyes, “all I could think about was you.”

You tried to keep the snarky, biting tone in that last part, but your voice betrayed you when you met his eyes. It came out sounding as vulnerable as it felt to say. His expression flickers. You feel too honest. You should take it back. You want to curl up. He grins above you.

“I know, baby,” he coos. You hold your breath. Of course he’s going to be a condescending ass about it, you start to bemoan internally–but when he finally sinks into you, it shuts off your inner monologue and slows down time. “All I can fuckin’ think about,” he says as he fills you as deeply as possible, letting a satisfied sigh fall from his lips.

All I can fuckin’ think about.

The words rattle around in your mind. Joel begins to rock into you, deliberately grinding his pelvis against you. All he can think about is you, too? Or fucking you? Or how he’s ruined you for other men?

All I can fuckin’ think about.

It echoes in your head as he picks up his pace, splitting you open with heavy, mind-altering thrusts. Suffocatingly intimate. Face to face. Skin to skin. Soul to soul. His voice isn’t just echoing in your mind; he’s also running his mouth about something. Muttering about how he knew you’d be waiting for him, how he’s going to fuck you until you forget your date's name, how nobody else can satisfy your needy cunt.

Oh.

He’s not wrong. You want to hear more.

“Yes,” You can stoke this fire. You don’t mind finding out what happens if you rile him up while he’s inside you. “Only you,” you pant, “nobody else fucks me like you do.”

He makes a throaty noise in agreement and shifts. Large hands wrap around the back of your knees and press them towards your chest, tilting your hips up. You choke and sputter as he slams into you with force. The new angle creates a blissful intensity.

“That’s right,” he says, “nobody else.”

He pounds into you like he could fuck you through the mattress, maybe even through the floor. The lewd sound of his thighs slapping against your ass fill the room. You tuck your chin to your chest to watch the way each thrust makes your breasts bounce. You notice that he’s mesmerized by the same sight, and you take the opportunity to shift your gaze, studying the look on his face.

It’s more sensual than anything you’ve done together before. You can see the sweat beading on his chest from exertion. You’re nearly folded in half and unable to stop your soft cries and moans. It’s raw, sticky, and vulnerable. You feel warmed at the thought but also fragile. Breakable. Hypersensitive emotionally and physically. It’s all too bright and hot.

You let his voice push you over the edge, and your climax rips fiercely through your body. You faintly hear him groan as your tight walls contract around him, but his voice is drowned out by the pleasure. Your legs tremble, still balanced over his shoulders.

Your core muscles spasm as he keeps sawing into you until your hips are jerking at the sensitivity of your come down. He slows, breathing heavily over you. You can see the animalistic edge in his eyes. You have to push it. Play it out.

“Make me yours,” you incite.

You definitely just meant to imply, ‘fuck me hard and come inside me, please,’ but you worry he’s interpreted it differently when he drops your legs. Wrong. He turns you over, laying you flat on your stomach, pulling your arms behind your back, and pinning you to the bed. He straddles your closed legs. Your shoulders strain a little as he leans into you. His heavy body compresses your prone form, and his cock weighs heavy against the curve of your ass; it feels right. A perverted comfort blanket, stealing your breath.

“Repeat it,” he tells the back of your neck.

“Make me yours.” You turn your head to the side. You can’t see his face, but you can hear the string of curses he chants when he lines up and wedges himself into you. The added constriction of your position unravels you both.

“Mine,” he grunts. You muffle your own noises into the sheets, along for the ride. He doesn’t last much longer before you feel him still overtop of you. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of the pulsing and throbbing of his cock inside you as he fills you up. Breathing deep, your back rises against his chest before he slides off of you.

You roll onto your side. Facing each other, you still at the sight of him. Another breath shared between you, chests expanding towards each other. For the briefest moment, you think he might stay. You can see the soft edge of relaxation in his features. Your hand drifts toward him, an instinct based on nothing rational, just wanting to feel him. You feel the stupid, dreamy expression settling on your face. Before you can speak or figure out what you were reaching for, he’s snapped out of the bubble of tranquility. His walls are up.

He’s dressed and leaving, walking towards the door as you can only sigh into your dirty sheets.

He doesn’t even leave with a snide last word. Just the door closing.

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #fuckboy joel #dave york #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou smut #pedro pascal smut

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authorsofghosts · 11 days ago

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Birthday Kiss | Nightcrawler x Reader | One Shot

Author's Note: I find out an hour after waking up at almost 3pm it's Kurt's birthday... had to write something for the blue lad... German translations at the bottom !!

Summery: It was known by everyone except you two that there was something... awkward between you and Kurt. The exchanges of glances when the other wasn't looking, the way your laughs trailed off... Nothing but tonight was the end of all that.

Themes: Birthday, First Kiss, Fluff OMG, so much Fluff, Mutual Crush, Open Ending, Alcohol/Drinking Mention, Awkwardness, Flirting, Guest Appearance of lots of characters, Kissing (duh), Kurt Has a Beard and Forked Tongue (because fuck you), His face is also skin (not fur), Shorter!R (<5'9), R is a mutant/x-man (No Powers Written).

Word Count: 1.4k

The X-Men knew that Kurt wasn't one to like big celebrations, but that didn't stop them from forcing him out of his comfort zone. They rented out a mutant friendly restaurant for the blue boy's birthday. He had to be quite literally dragged by the hair into Wolverine's jeep to go. It was a site to see, really.

But you were happy to see him warm up to the idea as you crawled into the backseat next to him, his tail stopping it's anxious swishing to wrap around you and bring you closer. This made the both of you blush, his cheeks a faint purple.

"So... you knew about all, uh...this?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"Who do you think brought up having a party?" You laugh, smile beaming as you look up at him. His blush deepens at the thought.

"Was?? Since when?!" He laughs, shaking his head as he tried to hide behind his hands. You reach out and pull his hands away from his face, his yellow eyes widening at the sudden act.

"The first, duh. I knew your birthday was coming up, and I wanted to make sure you knew we cared for you, Blau." You say, quickly watching his reaction, which was much softer than you imagined it would me.

"Well, I should have excepted it from mein Freundchen, huh?" He laughs, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you flush against his side. If it weren't for the slight bumps of the road, your ear would be flat against his chest. He quickly puts his knuckles against your scalp and gives you a noogie.

"Keep it civil back there, kids." The gruff voice of the driver and owner of the jeep said, cigar smoke puffing out his mouth as he spoke.

"Sorry, Logan!" You respond, pushing Kurt off of you, your own cheeks hot with blush. You look over to Rogue, who sat on the other side of Kurt, watching the two of you with a small smirk on her face. "What're you looking at?"

"Oh, nothin', sugar." She says, eyes darting between you and your friend, before turning to look out the window. You weren't sure what she meant, but quickly turned your attention back to Kurt, who shrugs and laughs. You watch as he turns to his sister and gets her attention with his tail.

You watch the two siblings mingle, resulting in both of them laughing about some inside joke. It made your heart flutter to hear him laugh, a big change from the man that didn't even want to celebrate his birthday, having to be dragged out of his room by you and Rogue, forced to get dressed in something slightly fancy, and shoved into the car.

The rest of the trip into town was filled with Wolverine's radio blaring some classic rock, small talk and jokes from the back sit of probably the worst trio to get on Logan's nerves, and the wind blowing through the car from the windows. You all finally arrived at the restaurant, having to wait in the jeep for the others. You get out and stretch your legs, quickly followed by Kurt as he sits back against the jeep, arms stretched high into the air.

You can't help but watch the way his white shirt slightly raises, showing just a bit of the blue fur underneath. You blush once again, quickly looking away before he can see. He finishes stretching, holding the front closure of his leather jacket. "You alright, mein Schatz?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry." You wave him off, seeing two more cars pull into the parking lot. You smile widely, grabbing his wrist, "Come on birthday boy."

Kurt's glowing yellow eyes widen as you pull him along towards the others, a humbled laugh leaving his throat as his tail swishes anxiously behind him. The two of you start a conversation with the others, Scott and Hank both giving Kurt a pat on the back as they greet him. You can't help but notice, even with all the people around, he's staring right at you majority of the time.

The party quickly moves inside, a slight rain picking up in the city. The restaurant was on the top floor of the building, high in the sky with a nice balcony. It wasn't that much a big room, the X-Men filling it up pretty well with the amounts of guests. You were quickly separated from Kurt as he was dragged to the bar by some of the guys. You watched from a distance as they all took a shot. You kind of wished you were there to see what they cheered to, but it was less important than the gossip that Warren was spilling to the small group you found yourself apart of.

The night continued on, food being brought and distributed among everyone. You heard a ring of glass being hit with something metal, getting everyone's attention as Scott stood in the middle of the room.

"Hello, everyone! Thank you all for coming out, truly. We're about to bring out the cake and play happy birthday, so if you'd all like to come over here," He gestured to the table next to him, a spot blank for the cake, "That'd be great, thanks!"

He quickly turned around and started talking with Jean and Logan. You looked around for Kurt, spotting him close to the table with a tail wrapped around his leg. You walked over to him, putting a hand around him in a side hug. "Hey, what's up?"

"Oh! Nothing, just... this is all wunderbar, liebe, I'm just a little... over stimulated?" He laughs out. You understand what he means, grabbing his wrist once more and pulling him towards the balcony.

"Then let's get some air, yeah?" You say, looking back at him and pausing before you step out the door. He nods, walking out with you into the cold air of the New York night. You both sigh, finally away from the loud party. You watch as Kurt walks to the balcony edge, leaning himself against the bars.

"Thank you," He grins, "for everything. I didn't think I'd want to be here, but it's very nice that you arranged this whole thing."

"Oh, it wasn't just me. We all pitched in. I just picked the music and decorations, really." You admit, trying to stay humble as your cheeks burned.

"Ja, but, you know," He turns back to you with a toothy grin, his fangs glinting in the moonlight, "it wouldn't have happened if you didn't ask to have a party."

You nod, understanding what he says but still not wanting to take all the credit. Before you can respond, he teleports behind you, the air around you surrounded with the familiar brimstone and ash smell. He places his hands on your shoulders, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. The feeling of his goatee lingers on your skin as he pull back. "Danke, mein Fraund."

If your face didn't already feel hot, it now felt like it was on fire, your blush dripping to your neck and ears at the gesture. You look over at him, a genuine smile on your lips. "You're very welcome, Kurt." You say, turning around and wrapping your arms around his middle. You nuzzle against his chest.

You both stay there for a few moments, taking it in. You pull away first, heart pounding as the thought of your next action. Your hands travel up to Kurt's face, holding it in place as you stand on your tiptoes. "And... you're welcome for this." You say softly before pressing your lips flush against his own.

Kurt tenses up for a moment, the glow of his eyes disappearing as he closes his eyes, leaning further into the kiss. This shocked you, making you gasp, taken aback as his forked tongue licks across your bottom lip. He pulls you closer into him, a hand combing through your hair and holding your head in place.

You open your mouth, allowing him access into it. He chuckles softly, tail snaking around your hips. The kiss feels like it lasts forever, the two of you tangling in one another. When he finally pulls away, your eyes open to the sight of his cheeks a deep violet, feeling his breath pant against your lips as he presses your foreheads together.

"Did... that really just happen?" He asks, voice hoarse.

"Yeah, it did... It very much did, Kurt." You respond, pressing your lips against his again, but only for a moment. "Think of it as... a birthday gift, yeah?"

"I think a birthday kiss is the best thing you could have given me, Liebchen." Kurt laughs, capturing your lips once again.

"Was?" = What? "Blau" = Blue. "mein Freundchen" = My friend (in a condescending/playful way). "mein Schatz" = My treasure/My darling/My sweetheart. "Wunderbar" = Wonderful. "Liebe" = Love. "Ja" = Yes. "Danke, mein Fraund" = Thank you, my friend. "Liebchen" = Darling.

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thewulf · 11 months ago

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Did You Just...? || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - What about a young!Hotch x reader and they’re best friends crushing on each other?? Idk if you remember that TikTok trend where you call your crush or film a video and kiss your best friend and they don’t know what’s going on?... Read Rest Here

A/N: PURE FLUFFFFF. Loved this. Hope you guys enjoy :) This is a Young Hotch set in present day :)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 3.0k

“Okay but you’ve been on the app right?” You asked Aaron after sitting down at his desk filled to the brim with paperwork that needed to be completed but never had the time to do. He peaked his eyes over to you once you sat down with a huff.

Amusement danced in his gaze as a small smiled played on his lips at your overt casualness with him. It was remarkable to witness you go from the scared and timid profiler hired right out of school to chatting his ear off at lunch every day in a matter of mere months. See, he was in his third year at the BAU and thought he had figured it out. That was until you came along and rocked his world.

He used to come to work, get some paperwork done, put his head down and go home after a long day. It worked for him. He was ‘friends’ with his coworkers as best as he could be, but he was the young pup of the group. Then you were onboarded. Gideon hired you the second you graduated after blowing him away in one of the classes he taught at Georgetown. You came in like a hurricane that he wasn’t quite ready for but knew the team needed.

You were so different than Aaron’s other coworkers. You actually talked to him and got to know him. You weren’t afraid of his intimidating gaze but instead found it a fun challenge to try and get him to break his facade. It annoyed him at first. He went to work to work, not socialize. But leave it to you to sway his opinion on the matter. Aaron didn’t want to admit just how much he had grown to love and adore your smiling face greeting him every morning. He really didn’t want to admit how much he looked forward to your early morning coffee chats or daily debriefs when Gideon was being a hard ass. You were the sunshine of the group. The one that brought the optimism while the rest of the team turned terribly pessimistic.

He'll never forget the first time you caught a killer. He almost had a heart attack when you quite literally jumped on top of the man, surprising him and taking him to the floor without a second thought. You smiled right up to him after he was in cuffs and whispered a, “One down. A hundred more to go.” To him. He knew right then and there that you’d be in his life for a long time.

“What app?” He set the pen he was writing with down as he turned his attention to you.

Sighing you opened your phone showing him, “Don’t play dumb with me Hotchner.” Your eyes glowered at the man with a subtle smirk resting right on his face, “Tik-Tok.”

He leaned back watching the videos you’d saved. He assumed they were ones you thought would convince him to download it. He was right of course. You’d saved the funniest ones in hopes he’d download the damn app. You’ve been trying for weeks to get him to do it. But then again, it almost took you three entire months to convince the man he needed to upgrade from his prehistoric iPhone 5.

“You know that’s likely spyware and the government…”

You cut him off with another long-drawn-out sigh, “Okay dad. But it’d not banned. So, download it.”

Aaron could mess with you, and he knew it. And enjoyed it. He didn’t dare want to admit just how happy he got when he got you to blush under his gaze. You’d quite literally waltzed in and rocked his absolute world. He knew he couldn’t catch feelings for you and yet here he was. On the brink of falling in love with the funnier than ever coworker who knew him better than he knew himself. How cliché.

He leaned back in his office chair crossing his arms over his chest, “You know. I don’t think I will.” He watched your face closely. You were far too easy to read. Something he was working on with you. You gave away everything on your face. His smirk only grew when you raised your eyebrows in slight surprise. It wasn’t often he didn’t bend over backwards to make you happy. He would of course download the stupid little app to make you happy. Just like he got the latest iPhone once you saw the horrifying state of his almost 10-year-old phone.

You leaned back in the same manner he had, “No need to be so obstinate Hotch.” Giving him a playful push, you couldn’t help but to giggle at his amused grin. It was easy to forget the two of you were at work of all places. It was just so easy to forget with him. He made you want more with him, so much more. A much easier case to crack than you originally thought. He was an utter softy under the rigid exterior put on for the team.

He knew he should get back to work but he just couldn’t shoo you away. He looked forward to moments like these. Little moments where he got to steal some of your time and attention, “Look at you. Using your big words.” His smirk deepened as he watched you register his words in real time. He was playing around with you. He’d gotten so comfortable with you he was beginning to mess with you right back. You’d grown used to teasing him and only getting an eyeroll or snicker in return. You weren’t used to this. And you had to admit you loved it. A subtle change you’d grown to adore.

“Didn’t go to school for nothing.” You winked at him knowing the double negative would set him off.

He shook his head, “You’re something else, you know that?”

Wiggling your eyebrows at him you nodded your head, “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Relenting, he fished his phone out of his pocket. He opened it up knowing damn well he didn’t download the app but he’d sure as hell let you do it. He’d truly do anything for you, “You’re right.”

Ignoring the flush that rose to your cheeks you grabbed the opened phone from his hands. You knew you shouldn’t be having these thoughts for your dangerously attractive slightly older and much more put together coworker. But damn. You had all the thoughts and feelings.

You sighed, “Just as I suspected.” Shaking your head in disapproval you handed the phone back to him, “Now, I need you to make an account to night. Let me know when you do! I have so many to share with you.” You grinned knowing he was going to give in one way or another.

He took it back, “That’s a lot of work.” He spoke with a grin that meant he was just teasing you. Two could play that game.

“Yeah, because you’re so anti-technology. But I promise you can do this. Who else am I supposed to send TikTok’s too?” You widened your eyes as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“You’re other friends?”

You shrugged, “I do send them. But these are for you.”

Aaron couldn’t help but to smile at your ever so quick comebacks. One of the many reasons he had fallen for you so quickly, “I’ll do it. But…” He paused letting it linger in the air for a moment.

“But what Hotchner?” You raised your eyebrows, ever so curious as to what his stipulation could be.

His smile widened seeing your impatience for him grow, “Only if you come over and show me how.” He’d never really been so bold before. Sure, you’d been over to his place a few times in passing, once for a team dinner. Gideon’s genius idea to have somebody from the team host once a month. You’d rather come to enjoy the gatherings. Especially when they were at Rossi’s place. The wine and food pairings never ceased to amaze you. You on the other hand always insisted on taking the team out when your month rolled around. It was a little too embarrassing to have the entire team over at your rather small one-bedroom apartment.

“Propositioning me now Hotch?” You challenged back to the man you were head over heels with knowing it’d throw him off his game. The smile that immediately dropped let you know you did exactly that.

This time it was his mouth that dropped as his cheeks turned an adorable violet. Oh, you got him this time. You wished you could take a picture. He was just too cute when he thought too hard. If you were at home you would’ve risked a picture, but you didn’t want to cross the line at work. You’d never dream of putting him in an awkward position here. The both of you worked way too hard to blow it up now.

“You know I would never ever…” He started rambling. It would’ve been adorable had he not been actually freaking out a little bit. Of course, you knew that. You really were just messing with him.

Shaking your head, you stopped him, “I’m teasing you Aaron. I’d love to come over and show you how to make a TikTok account.”

He let out a strangled sigh of relief, “You’re killing me.” He loved it when you called him by his first name. It sounded too good coming out of your mouth.

Biting back a smile you stood from the chair, “I’ll be over at 6?”

You watched as he leaned forward grabbing his pen once more. Turning to you with that smile you’d grown to adore he nodded, “Don’t be late.”

“I wouldn’t dare Hotchner.” Shooting him one last wink you walked away briskly letting your heart get far, far away from the man who was causing it to beat right out of your chest.

“You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be Hotchner.” You giggled itching to take the phone away from Aaron.

He shrugged giving you a wicked grin, “We’re not all technologically savvy Y/L/N.” He chided back knowing he might’ve been taking his time so that you didn’t have an excuse to leave. He took his time making dinner, not starting until you made it over. Taking his time cleaning up and getting dessert out. Pretending not to know how his phone worked. He wanted to steal your time away. Not that you minded, not in the slightest.

Rolling your eyes, you finished setting it up for him, “You could say that again.”

A small chuckle rolled off his lips. He put his phone back down before turning his head back to you. You were watching him with all the love in your eyes. You’d tried so hard to hide it, but it was becoming an impossible task. He was so easy to fall in love with. How were you to blame?

Feeling bold you decided to move forward with your plan. Picking up your phone you clicked the video player to record and angled it towards you and Aaron.

With scrunched brows he observed you, “What are you doing?”

“Since you’ve never opened the app you’ll never get it. But we’re doing a video. I’ll post it. It’d trending right now.” You said as nonchalantly as possible trying not to let your voice waver. You had to be confident

Curiously we watched as you scooted closer to him, “Trending?” He asked with a hint of amusement lacing his voice.

You nodded not daring to meet his curious gaze, you’d surely lose the confidence to actually do it, “Mhmm,” You hummed, “If you’ll let me that is.”

He grinned, “Be my guest.”

It felt like your heart was about to leap out of its chest. Now or never, really, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He smirked seeing you finally look him in the eyes, “Do your worst then.”

It was really now or never. You grabbed either side of his face and decided to go for it.

His eyes widened in pleasant shock as you pressed your lips to his. He could’ve sworn his heart stopped then and there. That was bold, even for you. But then again you always had him on his toes. Another one of the many reasons he knew that made him fall for you. It took him a second to long to respond to this kiss. But once he did he wasn’t going to let you go.

Once you needed air though you did have to pull away. Adrenaline was now coursing through you as you realized you really just kissed not only your friend but your coworker as well. There was truly no going back now.

“Did you just…?” His mouth bobbed open and closed like he couldn’t believe what you just did.

You watched as his face went from shock to realization to… satisfaction? A fast and hot blush erupted on your cheeks as you realized he was watching you too, waiting on an answer to his very own question.

“I did.” Biting your lip, a wave of anxiety washed over you as you waited his answer.

You didn’t get one as he leaned in this time. You felt as his hand wrapped around the back of your neck and up through your hair. Carefully he pulled your head towards him as he kissed you with a little more dominance this time. He was in charge. He wanted to kiss you. You didn’t fight the way your body melted right into his. Feeling him smile as you folded into his touches like putty, you didn’t dare break away. You’d dreamed of this moment for far too long. Almost six months too long now.

He pulled away gently, leaning his forehead on yours, “Thank God you did.”

Your heart was hammering so hard in your chest you only could hope he couldn’t hear it being so close, “Yeah?” You asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice.

He moved away from you only so he could look you in the eyes. His hands landed on your shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” His usually unreadable face broke into a light blush, one you probably wouldn’t be able to see if you weren’t so close to him.

“Why didn’t you?” The smile on your face let him know it was all in good fun. You just loved teasing him. And he loved teasing you right on back.

He shook his head with the saddest smile, “Would it be too cowardly to say that I didn’t want to mess it all up? I didn’t want to make a mess of it if you didn’t feel the same.” For the first time you’d seen a side of him you’d really never have seen before. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t have an answer. He looked to you for the next step.

A quick shake of your head brought you back to the present, “I’d never think of you as a coward Aaron.” You reached for his hands that landed back down at his side, “And I’m certainly glad I didn’t make a mess of it.” You giggled feeling relieved that he clearly felt the same way. You didn’t think he’d kiss you like that if he didn’t.

“Go out with me tomorrow? On an actual date? Where I can actually woo you. You weren’t supposed to do that by the way.” He pinched your side lightly loving the way you squirmed under his touch, “But then again. You always seem to take me by surprise.” He clarified leaning back in wanting so desperately to kiss you once more but needing to hear your answer first.

“Do I now?” If your heart could speed up it certainly did as he leaned closer and closer once more.

“All the time.” He placed a gentle hand on your cheek, his thumb gingerly brushing on the apple of your cheek. A shiver you tried to stop erupted from your body at the lightest of contact with him. You were a goner, and you knew it.

“Good to know.” You grinned before leaning in and giving his nose a quick kiss, catching him off guard yet again, “And yes, I’d love to go out with you.” You continued after sending his brain into a tizzy. You truly would be the death of him.

He didn’t waste a second more before bringing you in for a much slower kiss this time. He too was in utter disbelief this was going on. Sure, he’d daydreamed about it on far too many occasions, but it was actually happening. He was kissing you.

When he pulled back for air he gave you a once over again, “I haven’t told you how pretty you look tonight.” He knew that’d draw that pretty blush he loved so much.

You pushed at his chest lightly giving him a soft laugh. You turned your head spotting the phone you’d set up to record about five minutes ago.

“Oh crap.” You pulled yourself off of him to grab at the phone quickly ending the video. A soft smile graced your face as you thought about watching that later.

He grinned, “Are you going to post that?”

Shaking your head quickly you saved the video before closing out of the app, “No, I don’t think I will.” Looking back up with all the love in your eyes you scooted closer to him, nearly on top of him now, “Think I’ll keep it just for you and I.”

He pulled you onto his lap, getting the hint, “You’re a sap.” Brushing your now messy hair, thanks to Aaron, out of your face he leaned down to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead, “A cute sap at that.”

You grinned while cuddling into him rather thankful your uncalculated risk paid off in an incredible way, “Only for you Aaron.”

He wrapped his arms all the way around pulling you in close, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade

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jonsnowunemploymentera · 3 months ago

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This part in Jon III AGoT when he’s realizing that he means to swear his life to a celibate institution at only the age of 14, before he could explore all the options the world has to offer him.

“I don’t care,” Jon said. “I don’t care about them and I don’t care about you or Thorne or Benjen Stark or any of it. I hate it here. It’s too… it’s cold.” “Yes. Cold and hard and mean, that’s the Wall, and the men who walk it. Not like the stories your wet nurse told you. Well, piss on the stories and piss on your wet nurse. This is the way it is, and you’re here for life, same as the rest of us.” “Life,” Jon repeated bitterly. The armorer could talk about life. He’d had one. He’d only taken the black after he’d lost an arm at the siege of Storm’s End. Before that he’d smithed for Stannis Baratheon, the king’s brother. He’d seen the Seven Kingdoms from one end to the other; he’d feasted and wenched and fought in a hundred battles. They said it was Donal Noye who’d forged King Robert’s warhammer, the one that crushed the life from Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident. He’d done all the things that Jon would never do, and then when he was old, well past thirty, he’d taken a glancing blow from an axe and the wound had festered until the whole arm had to come off. Only then, crippled, had Donal Noye come to the Wall, when his life was all but over.

This part in Jon V, only two chapters later, when he’s finally about to become a man of the Watch but he can’t get too excited because he’s realizing that there’s a great big world down there, yet he’s all the way up here at the Wall - a cold, unwelcoming home; a prison with no escape unless he wishes to die.

He had no destination in mind. He wanted only to ride. He followed the creek for a time, listening to the icy trickle of water over rock, then cut across the fields to the kingsroad. It stretched out before him, narrow and stony and pocked with weeds, a road of no particular promise, yet the sight of it filled Jon Snow with a vast longing. Winterfell was down that road, and beyond it Riverrun and King’s Landing and the Eyrie and so many other places; Casterly Rock, the Isle of Faces, the red mountains of Dorne, the hundred islands of Braavos in the sea, the smoking ruins of old Valyria. All the places that Jon would never see. The world was down that road… and he was here. Once he swore his vow, the Wall would be his home until he was old as Maester Aemon. “I have not sworn yet,” he muttered. He was no outlaw, bound to take the black or pay the penalty for his crimes. He had come here freely, and he might leave freely… until he said the words. He need only ride on, and he could leave it all behind. By the time the moon was full again, he would be back in Winterfell with his brothers. Your half brothers, a voice inside reminded him. And Lady Stark, who will not welcome you. There was no place for him in Winterfell, no place in King’s Landing either. Even his own mother had not had a place for him. The thought of her made him sad. He wondered who she had been, what she had looked like, why his father had left her. Because she was a whore or an adulteress, fool. Something dark and dishonorable, or else why was Lord Eddard too ashamed to speak of her? Jon Snow turned away from the kingsroad to look behind him. The fires of Castle Black were hidden behind a hill, but the Wall was there, pale beneath the moon, vast and cold, running from horizon to horizon. He wheeled his horse around and started for home.

Yes Jon could leave the Watch, but he has no place! Because where would he go, bastard that he is?

That’s why the most underrated endgame theory is ‘Traveling Diplomat Jon’. Yes he’s a talented politician and he would do very well as a ruling lord, but there’s so much he’s yet to discover because he struggled to see where his illegitimate status could take him. But even in his bastardy, Jon is connected to so many important locations all around Westeros. Forget Winterfell. He could visit Harrenhall where his parents met. He could go look for rubies in the Trident and see where his father died. He could visit the Vale, the place that raised his adoptive father and the man he’s named after. He could take a trip to Starfall and visit his milkbrother, then visit the Tower of Joy’s ruins. He could got to Dragonstone and Summerhall, his father’s birthplace and home. If he wishes, he can cross the Narrow Sea and visit his friend (and personal banker) Tycho Nestoris in Braavos. And if his suicidal tendencies get stronger, why not visit the smoky ruins of Valyria where sleeping dragons were once brought to life, just like himself?

Jon has spent five books earning his ‘Lord Snow’ title. And though it’s an oxymoron everyone, from baseborn bastards to mighty kings, calls him that and not all of them do it as a sign of mockery. He’s put in a lot of work towards coming to terms with his bastardy. So it’s finally time for him to take that in consideration and realize that there’s a great big world out there that’s ready to welcome him, bastard as he is.

#jonposting #sometimes I think about this lad and just burst into tears #like that’s ma boyyyy ma baby boy 😭😭😭😭#let jon explore planetos 2000 AND FOREVER 🗣️#asoiaf #jon snow #valyrianscrolls

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gloryy-vs · 2 years ago

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hii! can i request a neteyam x metkayina!reader where she’s really quiet/shy (being closer to kiri and tuk) and doesn’t think he notices her a lot, but neteyam is actually very attentive of her and one day he confesses about this in a maybe fluffy/personal moment? i’m sorry if this sounds confusing and thank you in advance. <3

Those Ocean Eyes

|| AS YOU WISH. sorry if it isn’t as good but again, NOT PROOF READ i’m a lil lazy and just woke up

characters: neteyam x metkayina!reader

ratings: SFW , fluffy soft shit , aonung being a butt , neteyam being protective , reader bein all timid 🤭

Kiri dipped into the water first, playing around with the sea creatures and Tuk was around collecting shells. Sitting down in the sand, Neteyam and Lo’ak sat on the beach rock next to you and their sisters. You made small drawings in the sand, glancing over to Neteyam occasionally who seemed to be engrossed in Lo’ak talking about his Tulkun.

Each time you looked away, Neteyam glanced at you. Still paying attention to his younger brother talking about his adventures today. You frowned in annoyance, seeing Rotxo and Aonung heading towards you and the Sully’s smugly. Before you knew it, Lo’ak dropped down first much to Neteyams dislike. You kept still, hoping it wouldn’t turn into a fight again, while Aonung was already picking on Lo’ak for his ‘demon blood’. They both tarted pushing each other around, Aonung being right in front of you and honestly he was losing. He kept getting pushed into you, while you struggled getting up in the sand that kept fighting against you. Guess like you were losing too.

Neteyam scowled, dropping down from the rock and hoisting you up carefully, pushing you behind him. “Ay, Skxawngs. Watch where the hell you’re fighting. You could’ve crushed her.” He said with a booming voice. Dusting you off and holding your shoulder protectively. Aonung huffed a small laugh, turning around to say some more bullshit, “If you like her just say that forest boy, she’ll never wanna be your mate anyway-“

Neteyam pushed him back with a strong force, and Aonung tumbled back. Holding his arm out to stop Rotxo. “I said leave, now bro.” Neteyam said before pushing them off into the opposite direction again. You were embarrassed at the mention of you in the conversation. Yet you failed to notice how upset Neteyam got, his breathing growing quick and heavy with annoyance. “You alright?” He asked you, patting the side of your head. You nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing i’m not used to around those morons.” You took the first step back, feeling like your heart would explode if you stayed. Tuk came back, along with Kiri. Both of them were ragging you away. reading to make their necklaces with all the shells they ended up finding. You wanted to speak to Neteyam more, but he was already turned around to scold Lo’ak gently.

You weaved through the shells intricately, do sucking on each pattern you tried to make. Big shell, medium shell, tiny shells. You hoped Neteyam would find the necklace flattering, and would appreciate it. The salty wind came through, nearly blowing away your vines and leaves. Before you could react s blue hand pressed them down before picking them up and plopping down next to you in the sand.

It was Neteyam. “Ay, that necklace for me?” He said teasingly, his thigh pressing against you. It was like he had no sense of personal space, not that you minded but you thought it was cute.

“Actually it is, it was supposed to be a surprise.” You laid the necklace into the sand, slowly lowering your hands. Neteyam did the same with all the materials, digging up a place to safely put your hard earned vines. Your bright teal eyes met his gold ones, and he smiled, it could show in his eyes too. Your thoughts kept getting louder, yearning for his affection more and more. Even though you were so timid and shy, you were sure his affection could only be platonic, you were always to yourself, or with his little sisters. Introverted like Kiri was, but as playful as Tuk when it came to the right people.

You dropped your hands into your lap. Holding your breath.

“I need to tell you something,”

“I need to tell you something.”

You both laughed, his teeth showing a lot from the coincidence. “Alright, me first.” He said eagerly, not even waiting for a retort. Neteyams body turned to face yours more, the ocean just barely touching the two of you.

Before he started he noticed the glisten in your eyes, how pretty they looked when the sun was setting. “You’re a gentle girl. There’s this soft light about you, always so caring. Helping us learn the ways of the water people, even though you’re so shy, you were the first to talk to me.” Neteyam placed his hand onto your thigh, reassuringly. His heart was beating as fast as yours.

“I see you. I really do. Everything about you. Even those pretty ocean eyes.” He said, leaning in a little.

Your heart almost dropped to your ass, mouth slightly agape from the compliments he showered you with. He noticed your sincerity, and even admitted to loving the shy and introverted bits. You took his hand, crawling into his arms and he welcomed you eagerly. “I’ve never had someone say that. I was drawn to you the moment I saw you Neteyam.” The moment was very heartfelt, both of you pouring your emotions out just from the tight embrace. “I…see you too, Neteyam. I always did.” He held you tighter, a warm feeling washing over him as the waves engulfed you to up to the waist. Neither of you minded, as you both laid in the sand, holding onto each other.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam x you #neteyam sully #avatar neteyam #neteyam #atwow loak #loak imagine #avatar way of water #metkayina #omaticaya

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webslingingslasher · 1 year ago

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we need more nerdy peter 😕😕

ask and you shall receive!

peter was going to kill you, this time you weren't exaggerating, this time peter was really truly going to kill you.

maybe he wouldn't full on murder you, but for the first time in forever you'd see him in a fit of rage. he'd scream at you, that's for sure. or the thing that'd hurt the most, he'd be disappointed.

it was a total accident, an accident that just sent thousands down the drain. literally.

a brand new ring with a sparkly diamond, you cherished it, and the man who got down on one knee with it. you never had anything so nice and you promised yourself you'd take care of it.

that's why you took it off for your shower, you didn't want to tarnish it in the hard water. it was the most precious thing you've ever gotten, and you wanted to protect it. you had set it in the same spot by the sink, just like you had for the past week.

this morning didn't go to plan, the silver slipped and you watched it circle the drain, trapped in panic and shock you tried to grab it too late.

peter proposed to you five days ago, and you just lost your ring.

you cried for ten minutes, then had a moment to gather yourself and a game plan hatched. peter would kill you, but only if he found out. he'd be up any minute, you just had to grab a wrench and get it out yourself.

peter would never have to know.

you're still in a towel when you creep by his sleeping figure, delicately moving around his office for his toolbox. your eyes widened looking over the several sizes, you had no idea which one would work.

you took a shot in the dark and grabbed the biggest one, more is more, right?

holding your breath you take small steps as you pass peter again, holding the tool behind your back.

'baby?'

you spin, giving him the guiltest look of your life. 'morning, handsome.' peter rubs his eyes, 'whatcha doin?' you shake your head, 'nothing, nothing, about to take a shower.'

peter tilts his head while looking at your wet hair, 'again?' you panic, 'i forgot to wash out my conditioner, so... be right back.' your fiance smiles, 'want some company?'

'no! i mean- nah, you don't have to. it'll be quick, ya know?'

'i don't mind, i'll just stay in longer.' when he moves the blankets you fluster, 'no, really, give me like... five, ten, maybe twenty minutes and it's all yours.'

peter keeps smiling at you and you have to look away, the guilt is eating you up.

'sounds like you don't want me in the bathroom,' you shrug, you think you're about to break, you don't want to see the look on his face.

'does it have anything to do with that giant wrench behind your back?'

the jig is up, your shoulders slump in defeat. the silence is deafening, tears build in your eyes. you tried to hold it together but the crushing remorse made you drop the wrench, a muffled bang hit the rug.

you sob so hard you fall to your knees, peter's up and wrapped around you in a second, kissing your head and rocking you.

'it's okay! i don't know why we're sad, but it's okay!'

you choke between sobs, 'i'm the worst fiance ever.' peter snorts, 'and your answer was take me out with a wrench in the bedroom?'

he wouldn't be joking in a few seconds.

'i... i... i... lost the ring.' you heave for air, you feel him freeze for a moment, you're prepared for the blow up but it doesn't come.

peter's gentle kiss to your forehead made you feel worse, you'd rather him yell. 'where'd you lose it?'

you gasp for air, he holds you tighter. 'the drain.' he shouldn't making you feel better, but he is. he's calmed your sobs into harsh breaths.

peter wipes tears from your cheeks, 'which one?'

you sniff, 'sink.' your fiance holds you to his chest, he rests his chin on your head. 'want me to help get it out?'

you gasp and push him away, 'we can save it?'

peter nods, 'i'll show you how, if you want.' you nod and take his hands when he pulls you up, he grabs the wrench from the ground. 'i appreciate the initiative, but this is the wrong one, give me a second.'

peter meets you in the bathroom, you've cleared out the under cabinet to make room for your heads, he crouches and points to a small lever.

'alright, first thing we have to do is turn the water off, go ahead and flip that for me, baby.'

'this one?'

'you got it.'

peter pulls at a plastic piece, loosing it enough for a few small drops of water to leak. 'wanna grab me something?' you went for the closest thing, the trashcan. you stuff it where the water dropped.

'i loosened it for you, so now you can take that piece off.' you follow instruction, a bit of water drops with it, you take a peek, no ring.

'now...' peter grunts at the awkward angle, taking his wrench and untightening something. the next thing you see is a small opening, peter gives you a nod.

'you wanna do it or me?'

it's your ring but it's kind of gross, you don't want to stick your hands up that. peter can hear your thoughts, scooping his fingers around until he pulls out the missing diamond.

it still looks brand new, you send him to the floor with a hug. you squeal at the ring back where it belonged, on your left hand.

'oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you.'

peter groans at your full weight, 'it's supposed to be, i do, i do, i do.'

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #my writing

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theallianceofcelestials · 10 days ago

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Sooo, yesterday's MASM episode, huh?

Why is Moonblock, Moonstone, whatever you wanna call him, the way he is? He doesn't make any sense! I'm not going to talk about anything they do in gaming videos, because that's just the VA's bullying eachother, like frinds do.

Pulling Sun along on their adventures as a way to try and bond, helping him (however reluctant that help may be) whenever Sunny goes to him for something, fixing him up during the night, while Sun is sleeping, knowing and making him his favourite cookies (once), wingmanned him a handful of times (the one where he told Sun, Roxy and Foxy to go get ice cream, which turned into the Roxy and Sun date episode, was very sweet of him) ect.

But then turning around, calling him mean names, yelling at him, hitting him, laughing and encouraging when others are jackasses to him (like when Bonnie hung him from the ceiling, and he was up there for days. crying.), joining in on when a child as a form of playing, wanted to stab him - and yeah, sure, he may be made of metal and plastic, so he would've been mostly fine if the kid stabbed him, but just like with the rabbit shooting him with fake bullets, that still hurts, - stabbing him just in general with a sword, blowing him up, letting others shove grass and weeds down his throat and jumping on him from higher and higher with more and more force (which actually could've seriously injured him. they're heavy machines, who were not made to whitstand other heavy machines jumping on them), hitting him and letting him be hit by others with a shopping cart, that half-assed apology in 'Sun Begins His VILLAIN ARC With Eclipse??!!' episode, which kind of sounded condescending if you ask me, basically going "Welp, I tried" when Sun still refused to go back "home", and all the other other sins the little space rock has, but we'd be here all night and I have to watch my bloodpressure.

He clearly wants to be friends with Sun, or at least wants to spend time with him, as I already mentioned. He wants to be close-ish with him. And he claims he likes him, just like how he likes everyone else in the Plex.

But that just feels like he said it, one so Sun wouldn't leave, and two so he doesn't have to directly tell him he likes him.

He sometimes acts almost exactly like the stereotypycal *giggling and kicking feet in the air* "My crush/bestest friend forever and meee <3", but in the most assholeish Karen way of "If A bOy PuLlS yOuR hAiR aNd Is BuLlYiNg YoU! ThAt MeAnS hE iS cRuShInG oN yOu!"

Like, "Oooh I'll write me and Sun's name together as the password🥰! But throw in someone else's name aswell, so if he ever finds out I can just say it's me and my two friends!!"

Make it make sense!

This post was meant to be about how the way everyone acted in yesterday's episode 'Sun Continues His VILLAIN ARC And Plans REVENGE...' felt heavily like it was backtracking. But I kind of got sidetracked with talking about the little space rock.

How "Yeah, I only was an ass to you and abused, so you would reach your literal breaking point, snap and go join Eclipse, so I could try and catch him. Proud of ya, or whatever I'm supposed to say, here's a plush... Still going to shoot you. Because why not." and "Ohh ya know, stabbing people is just Foxy's way of showing he loves you! Classic Foxy teehee!" just felt like some poor attempt at damage control. Same with suddenly everyone wanting to hang out with Sun, the one time he wanted to be left alone.

I'm not counting Freddy, his IQ is room temperature on good days, and I mean it in the nicest of ways. As nice as can be.

But why do suddenly everyone else want to hang out with Sun, like he's suddenly the most interesting of people. Though they're still hitting him with gokarts, insisting they need to look at something at the back of his head (a bump which may or may not have even been there), and when he rejected the idea of them looking at his head, clearly uncomfortable, they surrounded him, held him down, and forcibly checked his head and then fixed(?) it.

And then when he wanted to be alone again to cry, they still wouldn't leave him be. The rabbit actually wanted to watch.

In short, because I truly lost where I was going with this post and just started ranting, yesterday's episode felt like everyone attempting to backtrack a little, but falling back into the comfortable habits, the little space rock confuses me (what do you want?! do you want to be friends? do you want to hold hands with him in the most romantic of ways? do you just view him as a sentient punching bag?! do you just want to keep him around and fix him up, so he can do all the daycare stuff so you don't have to?!), I hate the rabbit so much, same with the gator and the fox, disappointed in the others, and Sunblock. Deserves. Justice.

#moon and sun minecraft #masm #masm sun #masm freddy #masm roxanne #masm bonnie #masm foxy #masm moon #I really lost where I was going huh #rant #i guess???#yeah. rant #little space rock why are you so weird?#there's no other word to describe it #putting your and Sun's name together as the password is quite peculiar #like writing your names under a little umbrella #but then having someone give him a drink which explodes upon consumption?#rant over I have a pair of episodes to catch

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pinkanonwrites · 10 months ago

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HI same anon from last night I’ve been going absolutely bonkers over you rambling about Bee since you posted it. I love that guy… 😭. If you want more specific (and this is only if you wanna!) do you wanna expand on maybe g1, animated or earthspark? how they’d be in a relationship, maybe? it’s totally up to you. i’m just excited to be fed good content about my favorite guy 🙏

Yes yes yes of course! I covered what Earthspark Bee would be like if he had a crush in the last ask, so I'll gladly go over what these Bees would be like in a relationship!

G1 Bumblebee

Of these three, I think G1 Bee is the shyest, even when the two of you are already in a relationship. The puppy love doesn't wear off when you start dating with him. If he had it his way he'd trail behind you wherever you went, dopey and lovesick and unbelievably fond.

He's incredibly gentle with you, never picking you up without asking first, always checking in on you to make sure you're comfortable when he takes you for a drive. He's also a much more careful driver than the other two versions of Bee when you're riding with him. As much as he loves to feel the wind between his plates and tear up the road, he's a lot more hesitant to do so when you're his ride-along.

He loves the human cliche of getting your partner flowers, and he especially loves the way your whole face lights up when he presents them to you, even if he just spent an hour delicately picking them out of the nearby woods. He'd be a complete, flustered mess if you ever returned the favor or, better yet, went out of your way to court him in a way more familiar to Cybertronians. Bring him a cool rock or pretty gemstone you found at a hobby shop and he'll fall to pieces right there in front of you.

Whether you're a alone or in public, he absolutely melts under any affection from you. Even a kiss on the cheek can turn his processor to a staticky mess. He's so whipped for you and he absolutely loves it.

Animated Bumblebee

Even in a relationship, he still loves to tease and play with you. Teasing is your shared love language, he shows his affection best when you're calling him a giant dork and he's responding 'Yeah, but you love this giant dork!' The only times he gets really soft and embarrassed are when you genuinely compliment him or tell him how much you love him without some silly goof to cushion the blow. You can practically see his whole faceplate glowing with the force of his blush.

Anything fun is doubly fun when he's doing it with you. Listening to music, ripping around downtown Detroit, or even just vegging out on the couch playing video games. Having you there makes everything ten times better. Even things that you enjoy that he isn't as fond of are better with you. He'll gladly watch a documentary or go stargazing if it makes you happy. Besides, you can still bounce jokes off of each other, so he'll enjoy it no matter what.

He's such a showoff about you it's adorable. He brags about you whenever the chance comes up, and NOBODY gets away with talking smack about you if he's around. Especially other bots that don't like organics, that's when he gets to his most protective.

He's not always the best at reading the room, so you need to be pretty up front with him if he ever says or does anything that genuinely upsets you. After all, teasing isn't very fun if it's something that you're genuinely self-conscious about. And he knows you'd never tease him for stuff like his height, so all you have to do is point out the lines that you don't want crossed, and he'll never let himself or anyone else cross them.

Earthspark Bumblebee

Like Animated Bee, Earthspark be loves loves loves to go racing with you. But he's also painfully aware of how much more fragile humans are than Cybertronians, so he saves it for routes he knows like the back of his hand, or racetracks where there's absolutely no chance of you getting hurt. It makes his spark sing whenever you cheer around a tight turn, warm hands gripping his steering wheel like you never want to let go.

He's not a bragger by any definition of the word, but the people around him that know him well can tell just how proud he is of you. He gets this incredibly fond, dreamy look on his face whenever he sees you teaching the Terrans something new, like it's taking everything in him not to scoop you up and smooch you right then and there.

He's okay with casual displays of affection, hugs and chaste kisses and carrying you around in his arms or on his shoulder. But he does get pretty embarrassed if he ever gets caught in a more affectionate position with you. He can handle the teasing from the Maltobots just fine, but Primus forbid Optimus or Megatron start ribbing him for how cuddly he likes to be with you when no one else is around.

Speaking of cuddly, I think ES Bee is the MOST touchstarved out of these three. He's incredibly tactile and if he could he'd literally always be touching you, but he's been on his own for so long that he doesn't really know how to voice when he needs that kind of casual physical affection. He loves to cuddle but almost never brings it up. After all, a soft, gentle human like yourself can't possibly get as much out of cuddling a angular slab of metal as he gets out of cuddling you. Please cuddle the man, he needs it so bad.

#transformers #bumblebee #tfa bumblebee #es bumblebee #g1 bumblebee #maccadam #transformers x reader #x reader #bumblebee x reader #'transformers imagines #long post #anon

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desirediariesx · 2 months ago

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diary entry #19

I repaid my boyfriend for all of the dick he has been letting me play with

Okay so if you have been following my posts at all then you know that I my bf has been letting me have all kinds of fun. From inviting guys over to use me anonymously, to letting me play with his friends. I have been absolutly loving it and I decided that it would be only fair to return the favor.

I have a friend who I know has always had a bit of a crush on my bf. She is my bestie and we share everything with each other so she knows all about everything we do and all our sexual adventures. She is this cute petite 19 year old blonde girl who I go to school with. She is bisexual as well and we have def made out more than a few times at parties and stuff like that.

I explained the situation to her and told her that I wanted to return the favor to my bf and I wanted to let him experience some other pussy. She was sooooo excited honestly I was suprised haha. I told her my plan and we decided to do it later that night.

When the night came I told my bf that I had a suprise for him, since he has been making me the luckiest girl in the world lately. I told him that I wanted him to lay down on the bed, put a blindfold on, and enjoy himself. I could tell he was excited and wondering what I had planned. My bestie was right outside in her car waiting for me to give her the signal to come in.

Once he was in bed and blindfolded I told her to come in. My bf was already hard as a rock waiting in anticipation. I held my finger up to my lips as a signal to my bestie to be quiet while I unzipped his pants. She wasted no time in putting him in her mouth. Wow she was talented. I never have seen her suck dick before and honestly I was impressed. She def did it better than me ngl. I felt myself getting wetter and wetter while I watched her blow him, and I started playing with myself while I watched. It was fucking hot.

I started making out with my boyfriend and he moaned "thank you" into my mouth while we kissed. I asked if he was ready to feel another girls pussy and he nodded. I said outloud "let him feel how tight that pussy is" and my friend undressed and got on top of him. They both moaned when he slid into her and I actually moaned myself from watching it haha.

I got my toy and started fucking myself while I watched her ride him and I was the first one to cum it was so hot to watch! I kept on rubbing my clit wile keeping my dildo inside of me and just watched her ride him. After a few minutes she moaned "fuck, i'm cumming". His cock was soaked with all her cream and it was hotttttt. I started kissing him and whispering into his ear. "I want you to cum in her". He wasted no time. Grabbing onto her and pulling her deep while he filled up her pussy. It was so hot to watch. I fucking loved it.

After they finished, I told her to leave, and once she left I let him take off the blindfold. I let him watch me suck his cock clean of all the cum from the both of them. He kept asking me who she was and I told him I would never tell. He really wanted to know hahahah. I wouldn't budge tho, its only fair. Such an amazing experience i'm def gonna bring home more girls for him to fuck hehe.

#desire #sexy story #sexy thoughts #hot and ready #intimacy #lust #passion #intimate #sexy story time #er0tica #open relationship #relationship #relationship goals #hot story #dirty stories #original story #lustful desires #boyfriend #slutty confessions

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pedrostylez · 1 year ago

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Next Time

pairing: Joel Miller neighbor!au x fem!reader

summary: No outbreak, not canon in the slightest, Joel Miller as your neighbor growing up. You've returned home from grad school for winter break after your long-term boyfriend broke up with you

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 4.9k

warnings etc: No outbreak Joel, no Sarah, age gap (9 years) mentioned and defined, fluff, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), food consumed, semi-public? Chance of getting caught?

A/N: This is the prologue to "Don't" with not all of the background mentioned. I think this will end up being a 3 part? Idk, maybe 4 max. Anywho, be gentle with me.

It had been easy to find comfort in Joel.

The rush of wind around your face made you shiver, once hot tears streaming down your face drying quickly and leaving behind a sting of cold. You huffed out a breath, running your wrist against your face to try and remove the wetness as more sprung from your eyes. It was pitiful how you were crying over this, but you had spent two years with him.

Jason had met your family, your friends, your goddamn neighbor that you’ve had a crush on since he moved in, and he just…broke up with you. Let you help him pack up his car for winter break, let you get on your knees and give him a blow job, and then tell you that he wanted to take a break. That you were too much.

You were too much, as far as you were concerned. Too clingy, too needy, too much of just about everything that Jason hated–

r u home 4 winter break? Or is ur car needing work?

Joel.

You hadn’t even realized you pulled your phone out of your pocket on your trek to the hiking trail you used to sit at with your friends. Memories of asking Joel to pick you up and drop you off at the head of the trail so that your parents didn’t know you had snuck out flashed through your mind as you typed your response.

At hiking trail rn

It wasn’t really an answer to his question, but it was all you were willing to give. You sat on a rock just barely out of the view of the gravel lot, wiping at your eyes again and sighing. You could sit here for a bit longer before having to explain to your mom why you were back in town.

Joel frowned at the text you sent him, glancing up at your car again. He had just arrived home from a long day of work and felt something warm in his stomach at the site of your beat-up vehicle sitting in the driveway. The last time he spoke to you was over 6 months ago, when you and your boyfriend were visiting your mom, and Joel had helped change your oil.

He always seemed to help you with your car, and he was positive he was the reason it was still running. From his first introduction to you at 17 years old, crying while your car smoked in your driveway, he had always been your go-to neighbor.

If you were at the hiking trail that was only a mile away from the neighborhood, you were upset. He had watched you enough times running from your back door while your dad yelled after you to know where you would go.

He debated asking if you wanted to be alone but decided to hop back in his truck and head in that direction. He could walk himself, but the look of the sky told him you were going to be rained down on any minute and thought better of it.

You heard the engine of Joel’s truck within five minutes and scoffed out loud. Of course he was here. You turned your head to watch the trail, listening to his boots hit the gravel, his sigh as he began walking right toward you. He couldn’t see you, but he knew well enough where you were.

When Joel comes into eyesight you have to hold your breath, trying to not show how surprised you are by how he looks. How long has it been since you last saw him? The broadness of his chest, the way his shirt tightened around his arms as he crossed them–

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, darlin’.” He drawls, smirking at you. Does he have to do that? “It looks like it is going to rain. Figured you didn’t want to walk home in that.”

You snort out a laugh, glancing up to the sky while you unknowingly give Joel access to look at your neck and chest for longer than he normally would. “You’re right.” You look back over at him, his ears are red with what you think is annoyance, and try to act nonchalant. “How’s it going?”

He shrugs at you, moving his hands to his pockets before looking around and leaning against a nearby tree. “It’s about how it’s always been, sweetheart. You staying for the whole winter break or just visiting for the day?”

You and Joel had always been straightforward with each other. It was easiest that way, with how passive your mom was and how aggressive your dad was. You knew that the first time Joel moved in and saw you panicking in your driveway over your car that he was going to always tell you like it was-no bullshit. It had developed into more of a one-sided pining, asking Joel for his number to help you with your car or to ask him for a ride if you needed it. But he had always agreed, helping you when he could and being a person for you to rely on.

You take a deep breath to gather the courage to tell him. “I’m probably going to stay for the whole break. Don’t want to stay in the apartment all winter long.”

“Why’s that?”

You pause, looking up at him and biting the inside of your lip to not cry. You didn’t see Joel’s eyes soften at the first hint of just how upset you were. “Jason….broke up with me.”

He grunts, taking a step toward your place on the rock and crouching down in front of you. Your eyes widen in shock; he’s never been this close to you willingly. Under your car holding a light for him or next to him in his truck is just not the same. His hands reach forward, resting on your knees and giving you a squeeze before saying “Never liked him anyways darlin’. You’re too good for him.”

You feel your eyes well up with tears and try to blink them away, surprised again when Joel reaches forward and wipes at your cheek. What you were warring with bubbled over and out of your mouth before you could think about it. “It feels like I wasted two years of my life, Joel.”

He sighed, holding your face in his hands and you tilted into him subconsciously. He doesn’t know what else to say, or what to tell you, so he offers “Let’s go to the diner? I’ll get you French toast like how you used to get it.”

You smile softly, holding back a giggle as blood rushes to your cheeks. “Sure. I could go for that.”

Joel is watching you from the corner of his eye in his truck, and how on edge you truly are. You are hiding it well, but he knows you. Knows that you are still upset, still feeling like you wasted your life on Jason. He could murder that kid right now.

The whole ride is quiet, the sound of rain splattering his windshield starts soon after he leaves the hiking trail, your soft puffs of breath fogging the window that you’re looking out of. He pulls into the diner, parking in the back of the lot, and turns to you before you can get out and grab your knee. He doesn’t know why he can’t keep his hands off you.

“You didn’t waste your life, sweetheart.” He starts, wincing internally at how he can’t seem to hold back the pet names. “He’s just…he’s a boy–”

“We are both 25, Joel. I know that’s young but plenty of people get married before then–” You start to get riled up, face flushing red and tears brimming your eyes before you cover your face. You take a deep breath before speaking again. “Two years of my life I thought I was going to marry him and then he fucking tells me that I’m too much work! And that I’m too clingy!”

“You’re not those things.” Joel grounds out, trying to keep from letting his anger show. The idea that someone who you loved would say those things to you made his blood boil. “Jason is a boy. He doesn't know what he really wants besides someone to do his laundry and cook his food.”

You lean back against the passenger seat and sigh, shaking your head and leaning against the window. You had been cooking meals for Jason, had done his laundry plenty of times, and thought nothing of it. You felt weak, ready to cry at any moment, and it made you feel pitiful.

“Don’t let him affect you like that.” Joel pushes, frowning at you and squeezing your leg. When you look at him, his eyes soften with a tilt of his head. “The right guy will come along who doesn’t want to marry his mother. I know you took care of him more than you should have.”

Joel feels the heat from your leg seep through your jeans and into his hand, making his heart jump before he pulls his hand away. “Let’s go eat. I’ll take care of you today.”

Swooning wasn’t a sufficient word.

I’ll take care of you today.

Did Joel even know what he was saying to you? Did he understand that later you would lay in your bed and think of him while you slid your fingers through your folds? You’re doing your best to not look completely flustered, stumbling out of his vehicle and loping beside him to the front door of the diner. Your breath hitched in your throat when Joel guided you inside with his hand wrapping around your waist for an instant, forcing you to walk faster to keep up and stay out of the rain.

You’re still thinking about what he said as the waitress brings two plates of French toast to your table, piled high with butter and maple syrup flowing over the sides and onto the table in tiny drops. Joel’s smile to you makes your heart skip, shoveling a piece of the breakfast food into your mouth to cover it up.

Joel’s eyes stay glued to you, slurping on a freshly brewed cup of coffee. You take another bite of your French toast, cinnamon sugar swirled into the bread, sighing heavily when the melted butter hits your tongue. The warmth of the bread, and the sweetness of the maple syrup, give you enough confidence to ask. “Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t like Jason?”

Joel pauses his sipping, raising his eyebrows at you. He gives you a quick shrug before glancing at the table behind you. “Not my place.” He says quietly, looking down at his food and dragging a piece of his food through a sea of syrup. “You liked him, I wasn’t going to tell you otherwise.”

You huff at that, giving him a look that tells him you want him to explain more. When he doesn’t, you set your fork down and cross your arms on the table. “I would have appreciated someone saying something.”

Joel grunts, not fully convinced as he takes the last bite of his French toast. “No, you wouldn’t have darlin’. I’m just your neighbor, and me pulling you aside to say that Jason wasn’t the one would have been a quick way to get my nose broken.” He laughs, looking up at you.

You’re quiet, letting his laugh die out before mumbling. “You’re not…just my neighbor Joel.” His eyes widen briefly, your food forgotten as you stare at him. Debating on how to tell him you relied on him more than anyone, how he was a sanctuary in all your issues at home even though Joel knew very few details, you sigh out, “You’ve helped me in more ways than one and…you live next door but you’re more like–”

“Don’t say a brother,” Joel mumbles, raising his eyebrows at you jokingly. Deep in the back of his mind, he’s hoping that he hasn’t come across that way.

“I wasn’t! You’re not.” You pause, laughing full-bellied. The idea is so ridiculous that you blurt out, “I wouldn’t have a crush on someone that I see like a brother–”

It feels like the world stops turning when you realize what has just left your mouth, looking up to Joel’s coughing, coffee sputtering out back into his cup. Your eyes widen in panic, watching him set his cup back down and red rush back to the tips of his ears. You would almost think he looks excited beyond the surprise, but you can’t dwell on it.

It’s only a split second before you make the decision to book it out of the diner. You trip over your feet, pushing into the glass door and into the rain as you vaguely hear Joel calling your name. You don’t bother to turn back, regretting even saying anything at all. You should have just let Joel say he was only your neighbor and leave it at that.

Tears are running down your face again, down the sidewalk and through someone's side yard to the trail that you know is there. You feel stupid and pitiful again, admitting to having a crush on your neighbor who is 9 years older than you while also having him console you over a long-term breakup.

You quickly make the decision to cut through the hiking trail, back to the gravel lot where Joel had first picked you up, and then back to your house. Maybe you could even make it to your car before Joel realized where you went and you can drive back to campus because this is more embarrassing than coming home and crying about Jason.

Joel doesn’t know what to do watching you almost smack your face against the door handle as you rush out of the diner. He tries to call you back, feeling embarrassed for making you uncomfortable. He didn’t mean to start choking on his coffee when he heard you admit that you had a crush on him. Currently, have a crush on him? He wasn’t sure. Something in his gut wanted to find out desperately.

He pulled his wallet out roughly to pay the bill, getting out of the booth and opening the door at the same time he sees you cut through someone's yard. “Shit!” He says out loud, striding quickly over to his truck and hopping in the driver’s seat. He had to beat you home, or at least stop you from whatever it was that you were going to do.

Joel is tapping on his wheel as he drives up the road to the hiking trail when he sees you, drenched and running on the sidewalk heading in the opposite direction. You most certainly see him, eyes widening and freezing in place as if a scared animal and don’t know where to go. Joel pulls over, rolling his window down and leaning closer to the opening. “Why did you run off?” He says sharply, eyebrows furrowed together.

He doesn’t mean to come off harsh but knows he has when you respond with. “I freaked out. I’m sorry-”

“Would you get in the truck?” He amends, reaching for the handle and opening it towards you as an invitation. He waits for you to make a decision, watching you closely to see if you will bolt again. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” He concedes, watching you take a deep breath before begrudgingly sliding into the vehicle and slamming the door shut behind you. While you try to get ahold of yourself, wiping at your cheeks and flicking your hair behind your shoulder, Joel waits patiently. He can’t help but reach over and place his hand on your leg again, even when you tense up. “It’s alright.”

You huff again, pulling your hand back into your lap. “I’m sorry.” You say quietly, glancing at his hand on your leg and shut your eyes tightly. “I didn’t mean to make it weird. I just meant that I used to have a crush on you. Like when I was 17, or something.”

Joel holds back his sigh, knowing that any type of response might set you off to run again. He hides the fact that his chest deflates at the idea that it was a teenage crush, rather than a current one. He reels himself in at the thought that he is actually disappointed, beating himself up mentally that he shouldn’t have hoped you still liked him-he’s convinced that he is too old for you. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He mumbles, looking over at you. “You just surprised me. No harm.”

You nod quickly, looking down at your hands and at his on your knee. He gives you another squeeze to bring your attention back up to him. “For what it’s worth,” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before saying, “You’re beautiful, and I would be lucky for you to have a crush on me.”

You stare at him in shock, waiting for him to take it back.

When he doesn’t, you find yourself leaning towards him and pressing your lips to his cheek lightly, testing the waters. You pull back just enough to watch his reaction, before leaning in again and moving your lips to his.

He’s frozen for only an instant more before his fingers curl into the back of your hair, wet from the rain, and pulling your face towards his. You can’t believe this is happening, wondering if maybe you actually fell and hit your head on your way out of the diner, and this is just some coma-induced dream.

It feels more real when Joel’s hand trails down from the back of your head to your neck, giving you a light squeeze and then pulling himself away from you. He’s breathing heavily, slowly removing his hands from you before pressing them to the steering wheel and blinking rapidly.

He knows he shouldn’t have reciprocated. He knows he shouldn’t have said anything. He wonders if he should have just let you run home like you had planned.

You’re wondering if he’s regretting what just happened between you as he puts the truck in gear and turns it around in the gravel lot just ahead, driving back to your neighborhood. Anxiety roils in your stomach as he pulls up to your house and puts the truck in park, not even looking at you as he waits for you to exit.

You do just that, wondering how much more you will cry tonight when you slam the door behind you.

The next day, after you walked into your house and were bombarded by questions from your mom and dad, you’re debating even getting up. The bed is too small, but the blankets are warm and your pillow is comfortable, and the idea of having to explain in more detail before your parents go to work gives you the worst feeling.

You glance out your window where the curtain has shifted, and notice that Joel’s truck is still in the driveway. You wonder vaguely if he has the day off from his job in construction when you hear a knock on your door.

Your mom only knocks to give you a warning that she is coming in, your door yawning open as you huff out a small “What?”

“Just letting you know I’m heading to work and your dad is soon as well.” She says quietly, tapping her fingers against the door knob. “Do you have plans today?”

You roll your eyes before turning over to face her. “Wallow in self-pity and cry some more.” You say sarcastically, watching her shake her head at you in mild disgust.

“Do the dishes, won’t you?” She says back, walking into the room to give you a kiss on the head before walking out and leaving the door open.

You sigh heavily and wait another 30 minutes, listening to your dad groan to himself before leaving and locking the door behind him. You wonder vaguely if you have a spare key still hidden under the back step, and if you’ll be able to leave the house today. Maybe you could actually go on a hike.

Motivation takes over you as you stand, stretching for a minute before finding clothes you would be comfortable in for the day. A simple walk may be all you need to move past Jason breaking your heart today. You don’t know what will push your shared kiss with Joel out of your brain.

Joel is drinking the last bits of his coffee when he sees you step out your back door and check under a potted plant, nodding to yourself and walking away without so much as a glance toward his house. He had planned on not reaching out to you-let you figure out what you wanted and then pretend that nothing occurred if that was what you wanted. It was only the next day, after all.

In a split second after watching you head towards that damn hiking trail, Joel rinses his cup and steps out into the yard. You’re too far away to have noticed he has appeared, but he wonders if he should go after you, or if he should take his truck with him. Does he have an excuse to bring the truck? He glances up at the sky briefly, already knowing that it wasn’t supposed to rain again for another couple of days. Trailing behind you without saying anything is just creepy, and he doesn’t want to be that person–

His legs carry him at a brisk pace, boots thumping on the ground and his jeans riding lower with every step. When he calls your name he internally cringes at how you lift your shoulders and freeze, turning just your head around to look at him. “Hold on just a second.” He calls, jogging up to where you have paused.

You give him this look that makes him want to laugh, but he understands. You look frightened of your own embarrassment, trying to mask it with indifference. When he stops next to you and takes a deep breath, he doesn’t really know what his plan is. “You going on a walk?”

You nod, swallowing and shuffling in place for a moment. “Was going to attempt to actually hike instead of just sit there.”

He hums, taking a step in the direction you were going. “I’m off today, mind if I join you?”

He knows you’re pretending to not care just as much as he is, but you smile at him and agree, walking alongside him up to the head of the trail.

You’re about two minutes into this hike, and both you and Joel are out of breath. You haven’t spoken more than when he first caught up with you, and you don’t think you want him to. Pausing to catch your breath doesn’t seem like an option if you really don’t want to talk, so you continue on the path, going up higher on this hill.

Glancing over at Joel makes your face turn red, realizing he is in his boots and jeans that he keeps tugging up, and a dark blue shirt that will likely be covered in sweat if you continue at this pace. He could turn back if he didn’t want to do this walk with you, but you know that he didn’t come to actually walk. He wants to say something, and if you just don’t let him get the chance–

“Can you just, hold on for a second.” Joel puffs out, stopping and placing his hands on his hips. He’s trying to catch his breath, holding his mouth slightly open and furrowing his brow at you. “When the hell did you start walking so fast?”

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you at the ridiculous question. You are walking fast, but the point was to not talk. You aren’t going to admit that to him. “Just moving with a purpose.”

Joel sighs, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Can we talk?”

You immediately start shaking your head, taking another step forward. “No, Joel I don’t want–”

His hand wraps around your wrist gently, pulling you towards him to get you to stop in place. Your heart picks up the pace, closing your eyes to try and stay calm. “Look at me, please.”

When you don’t turn he yanks on your arm again, forcing you to spin into him and bump into his chest with a huff. You open your eyes to only look down, noticing the way his chest rises and falls against yours is erratic, almost like he can’t control himself.

He says your name quietly, forcing your eyes up to his with his hand under your chin. You stare at him, unsure what his motives are, mind going into overdrive. What is the purpose of this? What does he want to talk about? You’re convincing yourself that yesterday was a mistake and that Joel wouldn’t want you the way that you’ve wanted him when he leans forward and presses his lips to yours again.

Your eyes flutter shut when he pushes forward to you again, pulling back for a moment to inhale heavily and pressing his tongue out to yours. Brushing it against the seam of your lips to ask permission, sliding his hand up from your wrist into the back of your hair.

You pull away suddenly after getting lost in his touch, eyes widening at him as he slowly lifts his gaze. “You don’t want me.” You breathe out, leaning further away from him.

He tsks at you, tightening his grip and holding you in place. “I shouldn’t.” He confirms, leaning back forward and attaching his lips to yours again.

What happens next seems natural. The way that he kisses your neck and pulls away only to find somewhere secluded off the trail, makes your head spin. How this is happening is beyond you, but your body is alight with desire and bubbling with excited anxiety.

Joel can’t help but want to watch you only; make you feel good after yesterday's turmoil of Jason, of the diner, of kissing in his truck. He wants to convey to you that he wants you, and the only way to do that is to get on his knees for you while you’re pinned against this rock.

His fingers are gentle, cautious, and waiting for you to give the go-ahead before pulling the waistband of your pants down to your ankles and sliding one of your legs out. He’s quick to pull it over his shoulder, hands supporting your hips as he slowly and methodically explores you with his tongue.

You bite your lip at the sight of his eyes looking back at you, his pink tongue reaching out to your slit and groaning with want at how you taste. “Oh, darlin’, if I had known this is how you taste–” He cuts himself off with another exploration of his tongue. “I would have said something sooner.”

The “something” that he would have said is lost on you, and easy to not dwell on as his tongue dips lower to your opening and barely enters to feel the smooth skin there. You sigh happily, closing your eyes and leaning your head back into the bark with a dull “thunk”.

Joel feels his head spinning, his internal monologue telling him this is wrong, but unable to stop at the thought of seeing you let go. To see you completely relaxed in front of him is something he didn’t know he craved, but your plush legs surrounding him and your long neck exposed as you look up toward the sky makes his pants tighten with need and the want to see you come undone.

And soon enough his tongue helps you do exactly that. Your hand pushes through his hair and yanks, feeling overwhelmed at the idea that Joel is the one to do this. “I’m close–I’m gonna–”

Joel doesn’t let up, pushing himself closer to your center and wrapping his lips around your clit. The suction and flick of his tongue is all you need, breath hitching in your throat and closing your eyes at the sensation. You come so heavily that Joel is seriously holding you up, fingers digging into your skin as your legs shake.

When you come down your breath is coming out ragged, looking down at him to see his chin is covered with your wetness, a small smirk on his lips. He leans his head against your thigh that is still hanging over his shoulder, a sigh fanning over your center. He clears his throat, taking one hand and wiping his chin before patting your leg and helping you set it down. “I would have told you Jason was an ass sooner.” He clarifies, eyes bouncing between your own.

Your face goes red again, his fingers pulling up the waistband of your pants as he stands up. He leans against you, his hard-on poking against your leg as you reach for it, wanting to reciprocate before he stops you. You look up at him again, furrowing your eyebrows at him in confusion.

He gives you a small smile, sighing heavily before saying. “Next time, darlin’.”

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