#nick miller gif imagine

[theapangea]

One Night Stand

Pairing/Characters: Nick Miller x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: A very fun one night stand with Nick Miller.

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI!!! unprotected p in v, bj, fingering, eating out v, Nick kind of a dom ;)

A/N: My first official Nick Miller post yay! Let me know what you think! thank u for supporting my work! If you see any mistakes...no you didn't!

*Also posted on AO3: theapangea*

Masterlist <3

Kissing Nick Miller is a little sloppy to say the least.

The wet kisses mixed with the buzz of the lasting alcohol that still coats each of your tongues as you stumble your way to his place, excited for the night ahead. His lips barely leave yours as he reaches into his pocket for the keys. His other hand pulling you closer by the small of your back, needing you close enough to feel your heartbeat. And at this moment, it was beating rapidly against his chest.

The door opens to the dimly lit loft, the presence of people long forgotten, as the two of you stumble in. The playful laughs dance around the room, swirling around the both of you. More giggles escape your lips as Nick tries to shush you, prompting you to shush him in return. And the more you each try to keep the other quiet, the more laughs fill the quiet room. It was a lose-lose situation during this late hour.

His fingers intertwine with yours, leading you towards his room near the front of the loft. A smile residing on your face, the giggles still on the tip of your tongue as you watch his silhouette in the moonlight. He is a little rough around the edges but that’s what you like. 

Letting you into the room first, the door shutting quickly after that. And then his body is suddenly so close. Moving the hair away from your neck, his lips kiss the soft skin so delicately. His hands rub along your shoulders down your arms, a trail of goosebumps follows shortly after as you begin to melt under his touch.

His rough hands now run gently across your soft skin, the complete opposite from the moments the two of you shared a few moments earlier. Leaning your back against his chest as his hands wrap underneath your arms, his fingers making quick work of your button up shirt. Tearing the garment off of your shoulder, dropping it to the floor. The cool air mixes with the heat of your radiating skin.

Nick kisses a trail along the back of your neck as he fumbles to get your bra off. The multiple profanities coming from his mouth as he struggles makes you giggle. Finally unhooking the latch before his hands come around your chest, cupping both breasts as you arch back into his embrace. Nick delicately plays with your nipples between his fingers, squeezing, tugging, twisting. All of which cause sweet whines to escape your perfect lips.

Snaking his right hands around your throat, squeezing both sides with his thick fingers around. Pressing his fingertips harder into your skin as his left hand is still tugging at your sensitive nipple. His tongue dragging up your neck, his hot breath in your ear, “Be a good girl and get on your knees for me.”

And the dam near collapsed at his raspy words filling your empty head. A heavy breath releasing from your body as his hands let you go. Suddenly so cold and fragile without his body close to you. 

You do as you are told, turning around to face him. Nick’s eyes bouncing from your gaze to each perky breast in front of him. Licking his lips as you lower yourself on to the floor. Big doe, innocent eyes ready to be defiled starring back up to him and his large stature.

Nick slowly starts to unbuckle his belt, making the movements more emphasized as he practically sees you salivating for his cock. You are driving him crazy. Nick drops his jeans and boxers to the floor, the fabrics pooling around his ankles as he begins to stroke his throbbing member. He reaches out a hand, wrapping his fingers in your hair as he pulls you closer. 

Now only inches away from his leaking tip, “Stick your tongue out for me baby,” and like a good little girl your tongue extends from your mouth directly underneath his cock but not touching it. Nick shakes his head in disbelief, “God, you are so pretty.” His hand release the bunch of hair as it moves around your face, his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip. 

Squeezing your thighs together from his sweet words. Your body is vibrating as you physically cannot wait any longer until you are able to taste the delicious liquid that leaks from his tip. Finally closing the small gap between your lips and his hard cock, tongue reaching out, swirling around the head as an intense inhale from Nick jolts through the room. 

The fierce sensation running through Nick’s body as he lets out a deep groan, his hand on his shaft moving back and forth as you continue to lick the oozing juices. You don’t dare to break eye contact with him, the hint of a smile running across your face, pleased with being able to make him feel so good.

Your hands graze up his bare thighs, fingers digging deeply into his skin as you begin to take his length into your open hole. Tongue swirling the sensitive bottom before flattening your tongue to accommodate his size as you inch further and further down his shaft. Nick’s hand nestles in the back of your head, wrapping his fingers tightly around your locks as he guides you down. 

Saliva leaking from your mouth, tears accumulating in your eyes as the girth opens you wide. Only stopping when you can’t go down anymore, the tip pressing firmly in your throat. Whining as you try to push his cock deeper and deeper. 

“Stay still for me,” Nick whispers, his breath catching in his throat as both of his large hands hold your face still as he begins to buckle his hips into your mouth. The pace was slow at first, taking his time to explore your mouth with his aching cock. Until he finds his sweet spot, that’s when his pumping increases and pools of water form in your eyes, sending tears down your cheeks. The sound of choking fills the room, fills his ears, instinctively making him pump faster.

Pushing deeper and deeper into your mouth. “Eyes on me baby,” his voice is shaking as you lock eyes with him, his member pushing deeper down your throat. “You can do it baby.” 

His words make you squeeze your thighs together, the wetness starting to leak. The pure act of being face fucked by Nick sending you to the moon. 

Nick thrusts hard one last time but quickly pulls himself out of your mouth. Suddenly feeling so empty without him invading you. Finally filling your lungs again with fresh air as your chest heaves up and down. Nick bends down, kissing you on the forehead as both hands latch underneath your armpits and he’s pulling you up onto both feet.

But what he doesn’t know is that you may not be able to stand. 

Nick’s eyes are soft as he scans your delicate features, pausing for a beat to look at your weakened state. Your hands firmly hang onto his biceps, squeezing as you feel his muscles move underneath his cotton shirt. 

His hand only comes up as his thumb traces your bottom lip, pulling in for a kissing. He is intense. The confidence that radiates off of him, the way he talked, the way he moved, makes your body weak. The overwhelming passion pulsing around the room, wanting to show you that he wants you, that he needs you.

Your lips attempts to match his rhythm but are still feeling loss after what just happened. His tongue pressing against your bottom lip, asking for entry. Letting him in for the first time, his tongue searches for yours, swirling around inside of your mouth as he starts to move you backwards.

Your arms snaking around his neck as to steady yourself, letting him guide you. Your fingers glide upwards, fingers grasping his short brown hair, pulling the strand of hair ever so slightly. You can feel his smile through the kiss. 

The back of your knees hit the bed in no time as Nick gently lowers you into the soft mattress. Breaking your kiss to place light pecks down your jaw, throat, collarbone, breast, nipple, stomach, until he gets to the top of your jeans. 

His fingers make quick work to unbuckle your pants and slide them down your legs. Leaving you in your lace panties with a little bow on the front. His lips pull into a smile when he catches the bow, fingers grazing along the fabric before both hands glide down your thighs. Pushing apart your legs once his hands get to your knees. 

Your core is so sore already, leaking through your undies this entire time. Body shaking as his fingers stroke back up your thighs, tracing small circles on your inner thighs. 

“Nick,” His name sounds so sweet coming from your mouth, pleading as the breath falls,  “please.” 

Exactly what he was waiting for, you begging for his touch. His fingers to fuck you, his tongue to suck over your swollen clit. Just like you, he can’t wait to taste the sweet elixir that leaks from your body. 

His pointer finger reaches to graze over the fabric, the light sensation sending your hips jolting to the roof. The waves of euphoria are already circling through your body and he has barely touched you.

Hooking his finger underneath the material as he moves it to the side, exposing your pretty little core to the angel sitting between your legs. His thumb instantly stoking your inflamed nub, applying light pressure to the sensitive area. Your whines muffle through the room as your fingers soak into the rough fabric of the blanket. His name falling delicately from your lips between moans. 

Spreading your split apart with his middle and index fingers, prompting sliding them inside as you. The long digit curling perfectly inside your core. Pumping in rhythm to his circling thumb. 

Digging his thick finger further inside of you, dipping his head as he replaces his thumb with his warm tongue. The soft tissue swirling around your tender clit. Licking and sucking as he fingers continue to pump faster, finally finding a good pace as his mouth puts in the work. 

The repetitive movement sending you over the edge as you moan wildly. Hands tousled in his locks as you buckle underneath his mouth. Grinding rapidly against his tongue as intense sensation pushes you into euphoria. 

Your chest falls up and down as you are spread across the bed, vision still blurry from the amazing overdrive of intensity that just radiated through your body. Lifting your head to meet the cocky smile that is plastered on Nick’s face. The smile of a man who knows you have never felt this way with anyone else. You can’t help but smile back as you let your head fall back into the bed.

You feel the mattress shift underneath you as a hot body begins to hover over your fragile frame. His present totally engulfs yours, absolutely ready to be fucked by this attractive man. 

Your legs spread apart as he positions himself between them. Hand on his leaking cock, pumping several times to lube up his length. Pressing the shaft down as the tip runs against your nub, moving down to your wet entrance. 

A shared moan fills the room as he begins to push into your sweet pussy. Back arching as his size stretches your walls. 

“Fuck…”

“You can take it darling.” He encourages you as he continues to push into your sweet folds.

Your face contorting into pleasure as his entire length is now finally inside of you. Nick lowers himself down, catching one nipple in his mouth. The tiny whimper escapes your lips as Nick starts to pull his hips back, guiding his shaft in and out of your delicious pussy.

His head settles into the crook of your neck as he finds his speed. Arms wrapping underneath you as he thrust deeper and deeper into your folds. Rolling your hips against him, your clit rubbing against his skin sending waves up your body.

Moving in perfect unison with each other as the sweet release is near for the both of you. Nick’s thrust starts to become messier, each hard pound inside of you hitting the right spot. Toes curling as you muffle your screams in his neck.  

Fucking you faster and faster, your whining mixing deliciously with his groans. Shaking breathes all mix together with his lips crashing into yours. 

His pumps becoming sloppy and uneven, “I'm gonna cum,” you hum into his mouth. Making him pump faster than ever before to send you spirling over the edge, a out of body experience as he fucks you into oblivion. 

Nick’s thrust slows as his hot liquid fills inside of you. Kissing the softness of your cheek before peeling away from you. 

Nick collapses onto the bed, a lazy smile firmly plastered on his face. Arms reaching over to wrap around your lifeless frame. Wet kisses lingering down your neck before nuzzling into the soft skin. 

“Maybe we can make this more than just a one time thing?” Nick’s sleepy voice vibrates against you.

“Definitely.”

~~~

So??? What did you think?? Definitely let me know!!

[kylie-writes-stuff]

Protector

pairing: Nick Miller x reader word count: 1.8k summary: y/n goes to the loft to find jess, needing comfort after a recent breakup. she's surprised to find that nick's the only one home warnings: mention of a breakup, needing comfort. fluff. toxic ex + messages from said ex. jealous/protective!nick. not really proof read. a/n: hi!! i've really been wanting to get back into writing and Nick Miller's recently infested my brain. this is my first time writing for him so i hope you enjoy it as much as i do :) not my gif!

You walked down the streets of Los Angeles, the bright afternoon being a stark contrast to your current mood.

You couldn't trust yourself to drive right now. Not with your vision so blurry from the tears building in your eyes. Luckily, you knew the way to your friend's loft like the back of your hand.

You kept your head down and your hood up, carefully weaving between the many strangers that shared the sidewalk with you. You ignored the world for the time being. You couldn't even spare a greeting to Outside Dave when he began spouting nonsense.

You needed to see Jess. She was always there for you and she knew how to comfort you. You talked to her about everything, but you hadn't really been able to for the last few days since she's been so busy at school. You had tried to deal with everything yourself as you patiently waited for today, knowing she'd be home soon after school let out and free for the rest of the weekend.

Of course, you knew Cece was there for you too. But you couldn't go to her right now, not with this. Not yet, at least.

The elevator doors opened and you took a sharp right, making a beeline towards the apartment. You took a breath and opened the door.

They really need to start locking it, you thought.

You quickly glanced around the loft, only to see it empty. You were about to turn to knock on the door of Jess' room, before you heard the one across open.

"Finally, someone's home! So I had this idea, right, and- Oh!" You quickly turned your face back towards the floor, not wanting him to see you with your eyes all puffy. "Hey, (Y/n)!"

You knew the guys, as you were over at the loft all the time. You got along with all of them well and you enjoyed their company. You didn't want to ruin Nick's perception of you by showing a weak side of you.

"Hey, Nick. Uh, is Jess home?" You asked him.

"Nah, she's in like a staff meeting or something... (Y/n), are you okay?"

"Yeah, I-I'm fine. I just needed to talk to Jess, you know? Um, I'll get out of your hair, though, sorry I dropped in unannounced."

You turned back towards the door before a hand on your arm stopped you.

"Whoa, hold on. (Y/n), you already came all this way, just wait here for Jess to get back. C'mon, hang with your ol' pal Nicky!"

"It's okay, really. I don't wanna bother you."

"Hey, you're never a bother. Plus, when am I ever busy?"

You chuckled, "Got me there. Alright... Nicky."

"Yes! You want a beer?"

"God, yes please."

You made your way to the couch as Nick went to the kitchen. He kept his eyes fixed on you as he opened the bottles in his hand.

You were hurting and he could tell. He could see it in your slumped shoulders, your wavering voice, your leg currently bouncing up and down. He could tell by your red eyes that you tried so desperately to hide from him. You never realized, but he noticed a lot about you every time you were together.

Even if it wasn't just the two of you, you'd be the only thing he could focus on. In the loft with all his friends around, he'd immediately be drawn closer to you the second you walked through the door. He could spot you easily in a crowded bar.

It's like you had him under a spell and he couldn't break free.

He absolutely hated seeing you like this. So even though talking about emotions made him feel... weird, he'd do what he could. Even if it was just having a beer together and trying to make you laugh, he wanted to be there for you.

Nick sat next to you on the couch and handed you the ice cold bottle. The two of you sat, drank,and talked. Conversation with Nick always flowed comfortably. There was something about him that made it so easy to talk to him without getting bored. You were also very curious about his idea he had mentioned when you first arrived.

That made him feel good. He was able to, hopefully, get you mind off of whatever was bothering you. But you also genuinely cared about what he had to say. It was nice.

It seemed to just be getting later and later as the two of you opened more bottles.

Eventually, your mood had dropped again. You tried to hide it as best as you could. I mean, surely Jess couldn't be gone that much longer, right? But Nick noticed right away.

"Alright," He tapped your knee with the bottle in his hand, your attention snapping back towards him. "I'd say we got a good buzz goin'. Talk to me, (Y/n). What's wrong?"

You took a deep breath and sighed. "You know that guy I've been going out with? Derek?"

Nick nodded.

How wouldn't he know? You had met Derek on a night out a few months ago and you hit it off well. You looked so happy, immediately rushing to tell Jess and Cece about the date you had set for later that week. Nick remembered watching from behind the bar, wanting to be the one you talked about that way so badly.

You slowly circled the rim of your bottle with the pad of your finger.

"I broke up with him."

"You did?"

"Yeah. You know how people talk about, like, toxic relationships all the time? That's what it was. He wasn't good for me, and Cece had tried to warn me. But I didn't listen... I never listen."

"Hey..." Nick started, trying to find the right words. "You did what you had to. It's hard losing someone but you don't wanna get caught in a cycle that constantly hurts you. Trust me, I've been there. You did what was best for you."

"I know I did, but... it hurts, you know?" You looked up at Nick and he nodded in understanding.

His heart broke seeing the look on your face. He thought for a moment before asking, "Do you have your own Dirty Dancing, or something like that?"

You knew exactly what he was asking. Ever since you've known Jess, she'd watch Dirty Dancing after a breakup. It made her feel worse and better at times, but no matter what it let her get everything out.

"Something like that, yeah." You smiled.

Nick grabbed the TV remote off the back of the couch and held it out to you.

"Oh, no, it's okay. You wouldn't like it."

Nick merely shrugged and gestured towards the remote again. "Eh, put it on anyways," he urged you.

You gave in and searched for the movie of your choice, Nick going back to the kitchen because he insisted on making popcorn before it started. He also grabbed a few more beers.

You enjoyed sitting there with Nick, sharing snacks and listening to his commentary on one of your favorite movies. He'd make fun of the movie sometimes but you could tell it held his interest.

Even when Schmidt came home and started making fun of him, he intermediately told Nick to shut up. He wasn't bothered being seen watching a movie like this.

Halfway through, though, you heard your phone buzz. You glanced at it, wondering if maybe Jess or Cece were texting you. You hadn't realized how much time had passed since you first arrived...

"For fuck's sake," you mumbled to yourself.

"What happened?" Nick asked, his eyes flicking towards you rather than the screen in front of him.

You handed Nick your phone.

New Messages! Derek Leaving me is the worst decision you've ever made You're a fucking idiot if you think you're better off without me Fuck you I hope you die in a car wreck, you bitch

"It's been messages like this everyday for the last, like... 3 days," you explained.

Rage clouded Nick's mind as he scrolled up to see the, even worse, messages from the days prior. How could such vile things be said to someone like you?

Nick stood up from the couch quickly and made his way towards the door.

"Wait- What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna call him," Nick said furiously.

“Nick, c'mon. I'll just block him, it’s really not that serious—”

“No, but it is! It’s exactly that serious! He doesn't get to call you an idiot! That’s reserved for me only, damn it.” He exploded, focusing on the lighter part of the message. He didn't know what he'd do if he let the worse parts linger in his mind.

You couldn't say anything as he had already hit the call button on Derek's contact. Before stepping out into the hallway, he told you to pause the movie, making you smile despite everything else going on.

The door muffled the words leaving Nick's mouth, but you could hear his tone. He was completely enraged.

He came back in a few moments later, a proud smile on his face. "Well, that's taken care of," he said as he handed your phone back to you.

You blocked Derek's number and tossed your phone to the side.

"Thank you, Nick," you said sincerely.

"No problem, no one should talk to you like that. If he tries anything, you tell me."

You nodded at his words. No one had ever really stood up for you like that...

You pressed play on the remote and leaned against him.

Jess finally came home about 5 minutes from the end of the movie. She noticed you and Nick on the couch and her gaze shifted to the TV. She looked back at you.

"Oh, (Y/n)... I'm so sorry," she said, her face dropping.

"It's okay, I'm... okay. Let me finish this and we'll talk, yeah?" You asked. Jess nodded with a sad smile, and made her way to her room.

As the movie ended, you looked at Nick. "Well?" you asked expectantly.

He tried to hold in his smile as he shrugged and said, "It wasn't that bad, I guess."

You helped him gather the empty beer bottles and he told you to go talk to Jess after.

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, taking him by surprise. He paused for a moment before doing the same.

"Thank you, Nick." You looked up at him. "For everything."

He smiled down at you. "You don't have to thank me, (Y/n). You know I'm here."

"I know," You said. You leaned up and quickly kissed his cheek before leaving the embrace and rushing into Jess' room.

She immediately patted the spot on her bed next to her, urging you to talk about what happened.

"Well, let's start with the most recent thing first," You started, looking down with a soft smile. "That crush on Nick isn't going away anytime soon..."

[hottie0]

You Get Me So…

Pairing: Nick Miller/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: When Nick and the Reader get high, shenanigans and other events ensue.

Rating: Teen and up

Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Smoking Weed, Alcohol Consumption Cat in the Hat

A/N: This isn’t particular towards any body type or race, everyone is applicable! I have always wished we saw Nick smoking more in the show, so I wrote this! I also posted this on AO3 under the same name; it’s linked at the bottom! Enjoy :))

“Nicholas, look what I have,” As Nick walked into the loft you waved a mason jar of weed back and forth. Nick’s eyebrows raised and he sat on the couch next to you. “I’m willing to share if you roll.”

“Well, with an offer like that,” Nick unbuttoned his jeans, shimmied them off, and slid under your fluffy blanket. “I thought I’d have to bum one of Cece’s roaches.”

“Been there,” You unclipped your weed box and picked out some supplies. “Thoughts on paper flavours?”

“Fuck, do you have green apple?” Nick rubbed his eyes and then sat up, eyeing your collection.

“No, but I have cherry.”

“Is that the only flavour you have?” Nick asked.

“Yeah.”

“So why would you… never mind, just give me the crap.” Nick cracked his fingers and hunched over the coffee table, getting to work. You got up to grab some snacks and beverages.

“You want crackers?” You asked him, already opening the box.

“Sure, Linda, I’d love some.” Nick smirked and referenced Bob’s Burgers, a show you two had watched almost all of.

“Alright, Bobby!” You did your best attempt at Linda Belcher’s accent, getting a chortle out of Nick. You poured yourself a hearty glass of wine and grabbed two bottles of beer for Nick. With the box of crackers under your arm, the glass in one hand, and the beer bottles in the other you headed to the designated smoking area near the window. You settled into the comfy seat and fidgeted with your lighter as you waited for your roommate to finish up.

Nick licked the rolling paper, sealed the joint, and got up from the couch with a grunt. He handed you the joint then opened the large window, knowing you were too short to reach it. You quickly examined the joint, impressed, as per usual, with how naturally good he was at rolling. When he sat down again you looked up at your partner in crime, gave him a slight smile, looked back down, and flicked the lighter. It took a few seconds for the tip to hold an amber, but once it did you raised it to your lips and inhaled deeply. You closed your eyes as the smoke flowed down your windpipe and into your lungs. After a very relaxing couple of seconds, you opened your eyes and exhaled, watching the smoke leave your mouth in a thick, enchanting cloud of smoke. You handed the joint over to Nick and sat back in your chair, letting out a couple of shameful coughs, having not smoked in a couple weeks due to your busy schedule. You watched with half-lidded eyes as Nick hit the joint himself, doing a trick as he exhaled while he still had the brainpower. As he ghosted the smoke, he delivered a subtle wink. You huffed out a slight laugh and he smiled back at you.

The two of you spent a while sitting there passing the joint back and forth, feeling the autumnal Los Angeles breeze through the open window, watching the smoke drift up into the rafters of the loft, feeling the stress leave your body and the high take over. It was common for the two of you to stay silent when you smoked together. It was different when Cece was with you or, God forbid, Winston. It was always fun when the others were part of the rotation, but you found you had the best time when it was just you and Nick. When you moved into the loft, you and Nick didn’t necessarily get along. Jess always said it was because you were too similar; whether or not you believed her wasn’t really relevant. It was when you and Nick got stuck on a two-person kayak in the middle of a random lake that you finally bonded. It was a moment you didn’t look back on too fondly seeing as it ended in sopping wet clothes and too many mosquito bites to count, but it was an important moment, nonetheless.

“You want the final hit?” Nick asked you after blowing out a copious amount of smoke.

“Don’t mind if I do.” You raised an eyebrow and stuck out your tongue a little bit, for what reason you weren’t sure.

“Okay,” Nick laughed and shook his head. “Let’s keep all appendages in the ride at all times.”

“Hmm,” you hummed as you sucked on the cherry flavoured joint. “Appendages. That’s a big word for you, pal.”

“Pal?” Nick laughed even more, eyes tired and red.

“I guess I’ve been hanging out with you too much.” You smiled softly at Nick, eyes worse than his. You put out the joint and left it in the ashtray, leaving it to rest with the graveyard of discarded butts.

“Alright,” Nick groaned and stood up slowly. “You coming?”

“Not on these two feet, Miller.” You stared up at him and squished your face together.

“Oh, no, no, no,” You giggled as Nick shook his head at you seriously, but you didn’t break the stare. You and Nick waited, looking at each other, for what felt like minutes, but was really more like 14 seconds until Nick stepped towards you and picked you up bridal style. “You’re a witch.”

“You love me.” You relaxed in Nick’s hold and splayed out in his arms like a confident, sexually experienced figure skater. Nick huffed and set you down on the couch, draping your blanket across your body. You could feel Nick staring down at you, so you made a peace sign with your fingers and put it on the outer corner of your eye.

“You know I hate it when you do the illuminati symbol!” Nick raised his voice as you laughed at him.

“This is not the illuminati symbol, this is!” You made your fingers into a triangle and brought them to the center of your eye.

“Enough! You know they can always see you!” Nick looked around, head on a swivel, and swatted at your hands until you submitted, covering your face as you laughed.

“Just sit, weirdo,” Nick sat next to you and started scrolling through the streaming services, trying to pick something for you guys to watch. “Oh, hey, Nick?”

“Yeah?” Nick hummed as he cycled through the comedy movies on Netflix.

“Have you watched Cat in the Hat before? And whatever your answer is, can we watch it right now?” You sat up and pulled your blanket up to your chin, placing the corner of the blanket on his thigh, an offering.

“The Cat in the Hat?” Nick sounded bewildered. “That’d a kid’s movie! Are we kids? No! We’re adults! We’re adults dammit! Why would we watch a kid’s movie? Are we kids? We’re not kids!” Nick ranted in his good old fashioned, insane Nick way.

“It is not a kid’s movie. How dare you say that,” you said, offended. “It is art. The Cat in the Hat film is pure art, Nick Miller. Of course you wouldn’t know that, though. Nick Miller and art, together. Silly me. Silly, silly, silly me.”

“I know art, what the hell? I’ve written a whole book, that’s art. I’m an artist.”

“If you knew art then you would watch Cat in the Hat with me.” You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed.

“Fine! Cat in the Hat it is! I hate everything!” Nick searched for The Cat in the Hat on Prime Video and pressed play once he found it, accepting his fate. You rifled around in the box of crackers, shoved some in your mouth, and offered Nick a couple. The two of you sat, high, watching The Cat in the Hat.

****************

“What the hell is happening?” Nick outraged, throwing his hands every which way, his beer bottle coming close to your face in a way that made you a little nervous. The Cat in the Hat was singing in a coconut bikini with fruit on his head, a scene which was not enjoying, something you couldn’t understand. “I did not consent to seeing this!”

“Calm down and be one with The Cat!” You shouted back at him, dancing along to the music and simultaneously waving your left hand to get his out of your face, your right gripping your glass of wine in a way that would make any rich, old, country club-going woman disappointed.

“I refuse!” The two of you waved your hands around some more until his beer bottle came into contact with your wine glass, creating an ear-shattering and glass-shattering catastrophe.

“Nick!” You shouted. Nick froze, holding the neck-sans-body of his beer bottle as wine and beer ran down your chest and stomach. Luckily the glass didn’t cut you, but it was all over your body and the couch. “Nicholas Miller! Do something!”

“Shit!” Nick whisper yelled. He sprung into action, moving hastily, yet carefully as to not disturb the glass too much. He began picking large chunks of glass from your body with nimble fingers and setting them on the coffee table. His fingers skirted across your clothed body ever so lightly, and you could feel your skin tingling in their wake, but did your best to ignore it. “I’m so sorry, that was so stupid.”

“Just get it off!” You whined. You could feel the liquid running down your upper thighs, creating a puddle under your butt.

“I am! I am!” Nick picked up the final pieces from around the couch and stood up, reaching out to help you up. You grabbed his hands, as calloused as ever, and he pulled you up. You watched his biceps flex as he lifted you and you blushed. You shook your head and stood next to him, trying very hard to focus on the situation at hand. “What should we do?”

“Uh…” You stood for a minute then grabbed your blanket off the couch, along with a few of the removable pillows. “Well, Schmidt will know what to do, right?”

“Yeah, maybe?” Nick nodded and helped with the remaining pillows.

Nick led you to the laundry room where you dumped the pillows and blanket on the ground. Quickly, you fled to Jess’ room to grab a notepad and a pen. You furiously wrote, “Sorry, we had an oopsie :( ” and ran out to leave it on the couch. You and Nick both knew you would be in big trouble with the rest of the members of the loft and would likely have to pool your money to reupholster the couch, or probably just buy a new one, but that was a problem for future-you. Once the note was adorned on the couch, you headed to the bathroom to change your clothes. You quickly turned on the water and began stripping. Nick followed you in, entering as you pulled your wine-stained XXL Garfield t-shirt over your head.

“Oh, Garfield,” you said to the shirt as you held it up in front of you. “You were kind to me. May you rest in peace.”

“Do you need me for anything?” Nick asked cautiously. You stood in your sleep shorts and bra, which was one of your favourites, but was now probably ruined.

“Could you unclasp this stupid thing?” You gestured to your back and Nick stared at you. “It’s a pest. I struggle with it even when I’m sober and my hands aren’t disgusting.”

“Mhm, yeah. Yes. I can do that, yes,” Nick cleared his throat uncomfortably, but approached you to help. “Unfortunately, I am high, and my hands are gross, much like yours, but I will do that for you.”

Nick went behind your back and held your sides, stilling you as you wriggled in discomfort from being covered in sticky booze. You stopped moving and your cheeks went hot. Suddenly, you could no longer feel the mixture of beer and wine drying on your ass and could only feel the warmth of Nick’s fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra. He successfully got it unhooked, and you knew you should have told him to turn away and not look at your naked body, and you figured he knew he should have done it even if you hadn’t said anything, but both of you stayed put. You pulled your bra away from your chest and down your arms; you dropped it, and it fell to the floor on top of your beloved shirt. You turned around and made eye contact with your roommate; he looked into your eyes as your shorts joined the pile.

“I feel a little bit vulnerable, Miller,” you said, a smirk creeping onto your face. Nick blushed and you could feel him starting to get awkward. “Maybe you want to join me? In the shower, I mean.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Nick gave you a small smile and took a step back. He quickly pulled off his shirt and you could feel the energy change as the air got heavier with steam. “Hell yeah. I’m glad you asked.”

Nick shucked off his boxers and grabbed your waist. He rubbed circles into your hips with his thumbs and gazed into your eyes. You could feel your stomach begin to form butterflies as he planted a rough, warm kiss on your lips. He took one hand off your body to shove the shower curtain aside and backed you into the wall. The water poured down on the two of you and you could feel yourself getting worked up. High sex was the best sex, especially when it took place in the shower with your hot roommate you’d been swooning over ever since you had moved in; everybody knew that.

Nick grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up so your legs could wrap around his core. For someone who was known to be weak, he sure was strong. Suddenly Nick started lowering you down until you were sitting on the plank of wood Schmidt installed in the shower a couple months ago. At first you thought it was stupid, but when it came to shaving your legs and shower sex, it got the job done. Nick looked up at you with shockingly piercing, brown eyes as he approached you on his knees and gently pulled your legs apart. You sunk your hands into his thick, wet hair and he licked his lips.

“I always knew you were a munch.” You said through heavy pants. Nick rolled his eyes and got to work, making you let out a sigh that he would find himself thinking about for days afterward.

[bullet-prooflove]

Donna’s Wednesday Radio Show Prompt List #8

Hey guys! As some of may know I do a weekly radioshow on Wednesdays and I thought why not put together a prompt list from some of the songs I’ve been playing. I thought it would bring some fresh prompts into our world!

Feel free to pop any of these prompts with a charcter I write for (You can find these on the pinned post on my blog) into my ASK box!

Can you lie next to her And give her your heart

I don't like my mind right now

Stuffed in a coffin

aching blush And you surrender to the touch

When I'm your lover and your mistress

And you thought that you were the boss tonight, but I can put up one good fight

I'm burning like a fire gone wild on Saturday

Let me know, is your heart still beating?

I push up on my toes, you call me "sweet thing"

Holding on a steering wheel and coming up for air

Come again and tell me What you're going through

And when you start to look at me, a physical fatality And you surrender to the heat

With our backs to the wall

Red-light special

Driving in the rain

Sittin' on the counter in your kitchen

And the sweetest kiss could ever be so cruel

Our hands are tied here if we stay

And when you start to feel the rush

Crashed the car in Arizona on the interstate

My heart don't understand

"this ain't what you usually do, and a girl like me is new for you"

I know who you wanted me to be

Cut me, I'm bleeding

It's not my crime, so why do I have to pay

Stuck in the fighting

I can put on a show

How did I get so blind and so cynical?

Now I'm right back here still holding on to you

We never quite thought We could lose it all

 your tragedy

And I can tell you mean it 'cause you're shaking

And breathing down your neck, your body screaming

People pulling over, crying, thinking we were dead

When all the love has gone away And passion stares me in the face Could I walk away

Your tender loving's more than I can handle

Babe, that's the way it was That's the history

There's a darkness living deep in my soul

How come I've never seen Your face around here

Wish that I could slow things down

When you touch me, it's so delicious

Ready aim fire

You'll help me to be brave

I was never welcome here

Loves them and leaves them alone

Monday left me broken

We don't have the choice to stay

I've got myself In a masochistic hold

And you always taught me how to smile When I was down

Shaking and pacing

Baby, when you tear me to pieces

I'll turn temptation down

Give me something that I need

But if we go, we go together

Turn around and look at me

A life worth fighting for

can you lie next to her And confess your love,

You're visiting me at night Climbing in my bed

I feel so ashamed

God, don't let me lose my nerve

I'm holding on Why is everything so heavy

Right now you seem so far away

If I wait 'til it feels right I'll be waiting my whole life

So charismatic, with an automatic

 loving you with my whole heart

If I just let go, I'd be set free

And I drive myself crazy

You'll help me to resist

Memories of everything That blew through

Why don't you let go

Holding on To so much more than I can carry

I love the way you could See the good in everything

Holding on To so much more than I can carry

I could never live without you

Closing my eyes, remember how we were like

A white blank page and a swelling rage

Read between the lines

You can't get your life back

Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life

Plays God when it's your time to go

You desired my attention but denied my affections

Hey fellas, don't be jealous When they made him they broke the mold

You did not think when you sent me to the brink

[thisgirlisonfayeeer]

Oh my god Schmidt and Cece bringing Ruth and Moses to watch Barbie and he would scream right then and there, the whole crowd in the movie theater glaring at him, "I HAVE THAT EXACT SAME COWBOY SUIT!" Cece, embarrassed, pulls him down and shushes him, giving the other people apologetic looks.

The next day he begs the whole gang to watch it with him while the kids are at school and he wears that suit, which has been kept neatly hidden among his plethora of costumes even after moving out of their shared apartment, and Nick groans and cringes at the sight of him. (Nick was literally dragged by Jess and Schmidt, wanting to watch Oppenheimer instead to boost his masculinity but is eventually overpowered by the two.) He wears it confidently, proudly adding how the suit still fits him after twelve years.

"Oh, yeah, I remember you wore that on our first night as roommates, when that guy Benjamin's friend ditched me!" Jess recalls and goes all sentimental on them.

Cece joins them, fashionably almost late to the movie theater as she comes in wearing her matching cowgirl Barbie outfit.

"Sorry, I'm late. Had to drop Ruth and Moses off at school. And Schmidt insisted I wear this," Cece says with a tone of annoyance, but she clearly likes it.

Schmidt, like seeing and falling in love with Cece for the first time, gawks upon seeing her. "I have a real-life Barbie for a wife. I'm an actual Ken!" he mumbles grinning widely. Then he goes on to tell this proudly to all the other movie goers who pass by.

"Alright, Schmidt we get it, she's Indian Barbie, you're Jewish Ken. Now let's go before Aly gets pissed and you'll literally be a Ken without your genitals," Winston finally says before the group heads inside the theater.

Plus, Coach pranks Schmidt saying he could demand Warner Bros. for royalty because the outfit is "originally" his, and not Ken's.

#Schmidt is a Ken confirmed.

[cowgurrrl]

She’s A Gun

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: *John Mulaney voice* My wife is a bitch and I love her SO much (gif by @salome-c) I also didn’t know how to end this so sorry

Summary: Somebody didn’t give the new guy a heads up about talking about Joel Miller’s family [1.6k]

Warnings: idiots in love, a quick mention of a queer slur, I can’t think of anything else!!

You catch him looking at you across the room as you sip some new whiskey Tommy traded for. He looks young and fresh-faced without many scars or littering the surface of his skin. His eyes are bright when they meet yours, and you give him a polite smile before returning to your drink. Unsurprisingly, he bellies up to the bar a few minutes later. You glance at the door, and the man follows your gaze. 

"You meeting someone?" He asks. The bartender, a kind man named Nick, flashes you a look, but you wave him off, turning to the younger man, who is dead set on making his presence known. 

"You must be new." You say, and he laughs as he holds out his hand. 

"You got me. I'm Luke," He says. You meet him halfway and shake his hand, giving him your name. "Where are you from?"

"I came here from Boston."

"You're a long way from home. What brought you here?" 

"Long story."

"Is it longer than the time it would take to get you another drink?" 

"I can get my own drink, but thank you."

"'Course," he says but doesn't move from his place next to you. "What do you do here in Jackson?" He asks, and you open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. "Let me guess. School teacher. No, a nurse."

"I work patrols, but good guess."

"Oh, I'm going to work patrols, too. I actually just signed up for my first shift tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you know anything about this guy… Miller, I think, is his name. I heard he's a hard ass."

"Joel or Tommy?"

"There's multiple?" He asks, and you smirk as you sip your drink.

"There's a few of 'em hanging around, yeah. What did they say? Maybe I can," you shrug and try to hide the amusement in your voice. "Help you figure it out."

"Well, this guy, Seth, said Miller shouldn't even be in Jackson. Something about him killing people to get by before coming here, but he gets to stay because he's buddies with Maria. Apparently, he's a hell of a shot, though. I heard a rumor that he once shot an Infected from a mile away, but I'll believe it when I see it." He says, and you nod. 

You remember that day well. Tommy had been bragging about his marksmanship, mostly telling big fish stories, and you finally got sick of it. Joel told you to leave it, but you had to see. When you went on patrol the next day, you and Tommy had a competition to see how far he could actually shoot. You passed the gun back and forth to see who could hit accurately and how far. You were the one holding the gun when the Infected bound his way up the hill and quickly went down as the bullet buried in his skull. You didn't think that story would've made the rounds, though. 

"What else did Seth say?" You ask, and he puffs his cheeks out as he shakes his head.

"He told me to stay away from him. Something about not fucking with people like that because he's ruthless, especially when it comes to his kid. He said Miller yelled at him last week because he said something to her. Just... totally lost his mind like a crazy person." It wasn't just something. He called my daughter a dyke, you think to yourself. Joel may have pushed him and made him leave, but you threatened to ruin his fucking life. If you ever hear him say something like that to Ellie again, you'll make Joel look like the poster child for forgiveness. You bite the inside of your cheek and save that information for later. 

Seth wasn't warning Luke about Joel. He was warning him about you.

"And you're sure he was talking about a man?"

"Pretty sure. I mean, I know people do lots of shitty things to stay alive, but I can't imagine a woman instilling that much fear in a man like Seth," He says, and you hum. "No offense."

"None taken." You smile and watch his guard come down just enough for him to feel comfortable reaching for your arm.

"I wish I had known they let women as beautiful as you out on patrol. I would've signed up with you instead of Miller." He says, and you almost gag. Joel's hand skims your lower back almost as if on cue, and you turn to face him. He kisses you a second too long before looking over your shoulder to face the stranger who looks embarrassed. His arm wraps protectively around your middle, and he's close enough that you can smell his shampoo over the bar’s stench of stale beer.

"Great timing. This is Luke. He's starting patrols tomorrow," You say. Joel reaches across the space to shake his hand, and Luke winces at his too-tight grip. "Luke, this is my husband, Joel Miller," you wish you had a camera to take a picture of the stunned look on his face when he hears the last name. "Joel, we were just talking about the last time I was on patrol with Tommy."

"You're Miller?" Luke asks, suddenly looking pale. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh, I thought I mentioned it. I'm sorry, I'm probably losing my mind." You echo Seth's words and smack yourself on the forehead dramatically. Luke drains his drink before glancing around the room.

"It was great to meet you, man. Um, I'm gonna run to the bathroom really fast." He says and takes several steps away from the bar. 

"Oh, so soon? I was hoping you and Joel could talk about routes."

"Maybe later." He says, and with that, he's gone. You smile and turn in Joel's arms to face him.

"Jesus, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. What did you say to him?" 

"Seth was warning him about the mercenary who's buddies with Maria and shot an Infected from a mile away, asked if I knew anything about the guy."

"Seth should learn to keep his fuckin' mouth shut." He grumbles, and you nod.

"It didn't help his case that he tried flirting with me. Even asked if I was a school teacher." You say, and he gives you a look. His warm fingers reach under your shirt collar to pull out the chain with your wedding band on it.

"Maybe if you actually wore this, that wouldn't happen so often."

"C'mon, everybody knows I'm yours. It's not my fault no one gave him the run down," you say, and he tugs on the chain to kiss you, his big hands moving to hold your jaw. He swallows your gasp when he licks into your mouth, sending a zing of electricity down your spine. He's a touch too handsy for a public space, but you're not complaining. "I don't see you wearing yours out on patrol either." You say, pulling away before he can start something he can't finish, at least not in public. Still, his hand slips into your back pocket, squeezing your ass through the denim.

"Don't want to lose a finger. Besides, everybody knows I'm yours," he parrots, and you smile. A familiar, old country song plays over the speakers, and Joel lights up at the first few chords. "Will you dance with me?" He asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw to butter you up. You lock your arms around his shoulders and let yourself forget about everyone else in the bar. 

"And to think there was a time when you hated PDA."

"That was before someone tried hittin' on my wife," he says, and you feel like your face will get stuck from smiling so much. It's been three months since the small backyard wedding officiated by Tommy and Maria. Ellie walked you down the aisle— more of a patch of grass than anything else— and acted as your maid of honor. When Tommy asked if she agreed to give you to Joel, she said, "it's not like she's fucking property, but sure." She beamed so brightly when she realized you each included her in your vows, promising to love and protect her as much as you love and protect each other. It wasn't planned, but the unexpected matching further proved that you three are a family. Still, you don't know if you'll ever get used to hearing Joel call you his wife. "Dance with me, please." He pouts into your neck, and you finally give in, grabbing his hand and leading him to the dance floor. 

He pulls you close, and you bury your face in his neck as you slowly dance to Tanya Tucker's voice. He sings along for only you to hear, his accent getting stronger as he does. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and listening to him sing the same song you used to sing along to while driving on backroads. You would marry him again if you could. You think you would marry him in every lifetime.

Scary rumors of mercenaries and blood on your hands fade from your mind. To men like Seth and Luke, you are a subversion of their holy mother. You are bloody and broken, a monster beyond saving. You are a warzone with a heartbeat.

But to Joel, you are the most sacred thing he's ever held. It's not enough to erase the rumors and nightmares about you, but it's enough to knock the wind out of you and make you love your husband that much more. That has to count for something. 

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Tag list: @evyiione

[wyn-n-tonic]

That's a Real Fucking Legacy: The Marks You Saw

Pairing: Joel x f!reader (formerly Tommy x f!reader). Word Count: 2.1k+ Warning: Alcohol mention. Drugs mention. Emotional word vomit. Author's Note: And you can tell a friend to tell a friend...she's baaaaack. Not really but I have been dealing with some heavy stressors at work and in my personal life that has stunted my writing so it felt good to get something out that I'm actually proud of. I think? Anyway... no beta, we die like men.

“Do you ever see me?”

Leaning back, you assess the man across from you—the scar that’s nicked into his eyebrow, the freckles that are scattered like spray paint across his nose.

The deep brown, almost black, of his eyes that match his brother’s.

Your daughter’s.

“I'm looking at you right now,” you say and it’s immediately apparent that’s not what he meant.

But you knew that.

“No, sweetheart—“

“I asked you not to call me that,” you remind him. “That's not who we are to one another anymore, Tommy.”

A terse nod.

“And no, I do not see you when I’m with him.”

“Did you ever?”

Did you ever?

Did you?

It’s been so long.

Pushing out a breath, you suggest that maybe you did in the beginning. “I was devastated, Tommy,” you say. “I was imagining the worst things possible, I was having waking nightmares which”—you laugh—“says a lot given the state of our world today. Especially in the Zone.”

His eyes take on that glassy look, the one he gets when he thinks too hard or sits for too long. The same way his brother’s do.

Something you hope your daughter will never mirror.

“But never me? Never now?”

He’s so still, you wish he would move or stand—breathe. It’s still so weird to see him breathing, to see him talking. Instead he just sits there on the other side of the small living room where the only thing that seems to rise and fall is his gaze on every part of you not covered by the threadbare fabric of twenty year old clothes.

“Tommy, I saw you dead and then I saw white, hot blinding rage. But I didn’t go to your brother as a replacement for you, I went because you told me to. If you’re still holding a grudge, I suggest you find whatever’s left of a mirror and confront yourself about it because I didn’t do anything wrong and neither did he.”

“But—“

“Tommy,” you cut him off, “I will always love you but I will never again love you like I did.”

Another nod and he finally does move, readjusting himself slightly in the chair as if he’s uncomfortable. But this discomfort is his own fault. You tell him so as soon as he even dares to say it.

“At some point, Tommy, you have to find closure because we cannot keep having these conversations—“

“Because it’ll hurt my brother’s feelings?”

“Because it’s hurting you, it’s hurting me to hurt you like this over and over again. And, yes, it hurts Joel. If I had ran into your arms when you showed up out of nowhere, he would have stepped to the side and remained quiet and let you back into my life. He still would. He is still afraid that I will decide he is too far gone and too fucked up and he will wake up to an empty bed and an empty crib because I went back to you.”

“Because I’m so easy?” He asks. And, somehow, it’s the first time you smell the whiskey stuck so heavily to him.

At no point during the day have you seen him drinking. Not out in the gardens or the community center. He didn’t even smell like this when he showed up here and you didn’t think his presence was due to anything other than not wanting to be alone.

But that’s as far as memory can serve. Because your attention and all your senses have been occupied by other activities.

Like the smell of the stables when Miri wanted to see the horses.

Or the smell in the crook of her neck, the smell that lingers in her hair.

Pulling her sleeping form tight to your chest, you inhale it again—the soft baby smell that’s going away.

“You are far from easy, Thomas Miller,” you say. “An easy man wouldn’t torture himself like this. But that’s what you’ve always wanted, Tommy. You want to be some complicated soul who saves the day. You already did. Me, Joel, Miri… we’re all here.”

Tommy inhales, deep, and stands to his full height. “I should leave you,” he says, before laughing and pushing both hands through his hair. “I guess I already did that though, huh?”

“Tommy…”

Stopping at the door, he takes another deep breath, his broad back expanding and deflating just as fast as he says, “more and more, I see my brother wearing the same marks you used to give me but it’s different.” A hiccup escapes its way from deep within his chest and he turns until his back is to the door. “He is covered in you in every way I always thought I was.”

“Am I supposed to apologize?”

His head shakes. “No, I-I think I’m trying to apologize to you.”

Looking down again into Miriam’s fragile, sleeping face, you see all the parts of her father truly starting to take shape across her features. Golden skin with a smattering of freckles; a strong nose set against soft cheeks—perfect, gentle little girl who looks like such an imperfect but gentle man.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you say but when you look back for Tommy, he’s already slipped through the door to make the short walk back across the street to his own home.

Purple blooms beneath the golden skin just below his ear, in that spot that smells most like him. By now, it’s about as permanent as any tattoo ever was because you spend your days and nights putting it there.

But not just there.

He has marks along his collarbone, marks bitten into his chest and shoulders and the side of his hand.

Some happened as a byproduct of stifling your pleasure against his skin. Others because you didn’t catch the moans in time so he had to do it for you. But, if you’re being honest, all of them are a subtle way of saying back off.

Not just to the curious eyes of the horny, lonelier women in the compound but to the world, too.

After all, all these bruises sucked into his flesh are the same purple-red of the knotted scars that have risen like unwelcome mountains across his body.

Your way of saying lust-filled eyes can’t have him and neither can the earth.

Your way of saying mine.

He came home far too late with eyes way too tired. He showered, rubbed mint soap across his body and tried so hard to be quiet on his big, heavy feet. But you were already up, eyes open to stare at the wall while you waited for him to come to bed and the only thing that kept running through your mind is Tommy’s question.

“He asked me if I still saw him,” you whisper across the short distance between where you lay.

“You see him all the time,” Joel says lazily, one arm draped across your body. “Hell, you could go see him right now. Just open the window and throw a rock at his.”

“Joel, you know what he meant,” you say.

“I do,” he affirms. “And I think about the possibility enough already so I don’t need to commiserate it with the target of all my greatest fears.”

A beat passes and his breathing begins to even out and, when you ask him if Tommy is really his biggest fear, you hope he’s already asleep so he doesn’t have to answer it.

So you don’t have to hear it.

Instead, Joel pushes up onto his elbow, body coming to hover over yours as he flips you back into the mattress and says, “he is now.”

“Why?” You ask, circling the edge of one of those darker patches etched into his skin. “Why would Tommy be your biggest fear when you know what’s out there?”

He shrugs and the movement of his body slips your touch further down, over the ridge of the scar to shatter the illusion that it could’ve been just another one of yours. They all look the same in the dark.

In the dark, he was never hurt.

“My brother is always going to love you and he’s always going to think our daughter should be his,” he says. “He's always going to be the first one of us that you loved.”

“That Tommy is gone,” you say. You don’t know how many times you have to say it.

“I see the way he looks at you.”

“It should be the way I look at you that matters,” you tell him. “It should always only ever be the way that I look at you.”

Joel smiles, that lone dimple pocketing his left cheek, as he drops himself down across you and all of his weight from all of this world comes down with him as your arms wrap around his neck with fingers tangled into wild, unkempt curls that have gone so gray.

That’s when his breathing does even out, soft snores overtaking him as you keep lying there and looking at the ceiling.

In the dark, he was never hurt and it hits you then that the dark is the only place Tommy lets himself hurt.

Sunrises aren’t your thing but you’re already up and dressed by the time it comes around. Usually, by the time you wake, most of the compound is up and working—playing in the sun where you don’t like to be.

For so long, night hasn’t been safe. Not even back in Boston. But here? It’s safe for you. He was never hurt in the dark, your face was never gray and bloodshot in the dark. Miri never had to see her parents falling apart in the dark.

That’s where Tommy finds you. Sitting on the rickety old bench outside in his yard, watching your breath swirl through the air in the early morning light, your feet kicking like a little kid’s.

“You're up early,” he drawls. He sounds like shit.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you say.

“You want coffee?” He asks.

“That depends,” you say, “you still slipping Seth’s rust bucket”—your nose scrunches—“whatever he has the audacity to call that in there?”

Tommy smiles for the first time in a while. “It's alcohol,” he says.

“It's piss,” you retort. “And no, I don’t want that or the coffee it goes in. I just need to say something to you.”

He moves to sit before you stop him, pulling back further into the old, worn wood as you push your hand out. If he’s hurt about that, he doesn’t let it show.

“I’m giving you until the end of the day to toss every drop of everything you’re hoarding,” you tell him. “The pills, the booze. I find it incredibly disconcerting that we’ve made it this far in a world without everything that you’ve been able to find it.”

“Swee—“

“No,” you cut him off. “I let you do a whole lot of speaking last night, Tommy, and I let you hurt me. I have continued to let you hurt me and hurt my husband and I will not let you do that any longer. I don’t care that you’re a grown man, I don’t care that you blame me for this broken heart of yours, but I do care about you. Because, yeah, I put myself all over him. I dig my nails and my teeth and the heels of my feet into him every chance I get. But I do it because of you.”

“To make me jealous?” He asks, eyes narrowed.

Laughing, your head shakes. “Because I lost you,” you tell him. “All I had was a note that said you wanted better for me and all I thought about was how it really meant you wanted better than me. You pushed yourself out into this world without so much as a goodbye and you had no parts of me stuck to you reminding you to come home. I don’t make that mistake with Joel.”

“He's the better for you.” It’s not a question. Tommy Miller may be a lot of things but he is not a dumb man.

“Yeah,” you affirm, pushing off the bench to stand, “and I need you to get your shit together so you can find the better than me.”

He doesn’t speak, there’s no response even as you step back towards your own house across the street but it doesn’t matter and you won’t hear it.

Quietly, you push the door closed, toeing off your shoes at the entrance and pulling each layer from your body before crawling back into the bed you left an hour ago.

And if Joel noticed, if he woke up, it didn’t keep him that way. He doesn’t stir when you force your cold body back beneath his either. It’s enough to bring a very silent prayer forward from your lips to the same ceiling you stared at for so long last night.

The Tommy that could’ve been died in your heart a long time ago and it’s about time the one who scares Joel does, too.

[romana-after-dark]

Joel and Sex Pollen... just imagine it...

dub con with both bc sex pollen and Joel is a tad intimidating but trust me, both are very in. Joel is apoligetic but reader begs for more. Tried to keep it all gender neutral as possible. Kinda objectification. Knife play, tiniest of blood play. Somno!!

Maybe he's a little grumpy when on patrol with you

He's hiding how desperatly he wants you but refuses to indulge.

Literally pick your poisen. You're too young is a classic in Jackson era Joel but maybe you're Tommy's friend or some connection to him.

Maybe he has authority over you... maybe you're new here

maybe you have authority over him

Maybe he just finds you annoying but also fuckable.

Or maybe it's joel "i've lost almost everything I ever loved" miller doesnt wanna risk it again

you go out on patrol, make it to the overnight cabin. After dinner you do another round around the general area even though you don't need to... what else is there to do?

Certainly not talk to you. Crazy to suggest that!!!

A clicker comes and almost gets you, knocking you into a bush where a weird powder comes out. Joel kills the clicker with his bare hands and you could come right there

He thinks it's the adrenaline rush at first, maybe he'll admit to himself he was just a tad bit scared of losing you. But only bc you patrol together sometimes and he's a decent guy.

Not bc your mouth pops up when he’s fucking his fist

But as you are both walking back to the cabin (coughing from the weird plant) he can't help stare.

At first Joel thinks it's bc he's watching, making sure you're okay, not hurt or bit as you walk ahead....

But when you both get to the cabin, that itch, that burn is just too much

He pounces on your, lips locked into yours, hard cock pressed up against you and just ferral. He's tugging at your body like his little play thing, groping and squeezing all the plush parts of you

"I'm sorry" he groans, but doesn't stop what hes doing. Joel's face is tucked into your neck like he's to ashamed to face what he's doing

"I'm so fucking sorry, I c- I can't stop… I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, shit, fuck, I’m sorry. Shit fuck"

What he doesn't know is you're burning alive, the whole walk back you'd barely held onto a thread of decensy... but you needed him. You needed him in a way that was tearing you apart from the inside.

Your hands go for his belt, quickly undoing it and tossing it, the holster, and the gun unsafetly to the side.

"Don't worry, I feel it too."

You swear to god, you heard Joel Miller whine.

The moment of passiviy is over and his massive hands are tearing off the shirt while your shove his pants down

You both end up on the floor, you on your stomach and Joel pinning your body down with his spread legs. You couldn't get away, but there was no way you wanted to.

Joel is using his pocket knife from his discarded pants and you feel the cool metal on your skin as he cuts open a hole in your jeans and underwear.

He absolutely nicks you a few times and you whimper, but it's neither his fault or yours. Niether can stay still or concentrait, neither can stay still.

No prep, he burries himself fully inside you. You scream, but push back to meet his thrusts.

It's dark, desperate and needy. You'd never felt anything more intoxicating than his cock filling your hole again and again.

You cum multiple times in a 10 minuet span, and so does Joel. He never softens, only seems to grow harder for you.

Joel takes you like a doll, like a fleshlite created for his pleaure and in that moment you felt like it. Like Joel was who you were created for, to be his cocksleeve, his fuck toy.

It didn't stop you from cumming again.

Joel puts his booted foot on your back, pressing your face into the muddy floor with your ass up, his hands playing with the little bit of blood on your ass.

He kept apoligizing, alternating from begging for forgiveness to ravaging you, pumping your hole with load after load after hot, stick load.

The apolgies weren't enough to make it stop. Especially not after you kept begging for more

He shoves his fingers in your mouth, and you taste the bits of blood.

Eventually, you pass out, and you have no idea how long he continued to use your limp body, whispering sweet praises and desperate apologies when he managed to get them out through the pain.

When he wakes up, he freaks out

You're still in your cut-up jeans. You never did take them off. There had never been time, the need too great to pause for even a second. Everything ached but... Christ, you felt good. Amazing, even. You hadn't been fucked, really properlyy fucked in a long as time

It takes a while to calm Joel down but you do it. The guilt in his eyes is real…

but you give him a blow job just to show you still want him even after the affects of the plant were off.

[talaok]

hi!!! request for joel being readers first kiss. He won’t go any further than kissing but they have a LOT of fun kissing

thx

post outbreak jackson pls

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: very brief talk of some sexual themes at the end, but the rest is... you guessed it, kissing!

a/n: 1000/10 idea i literally blushed when you sent it. idk about the execution tho

You were so incredibly embarrassed when you told him, when you finally had to confess that you had no experience, and by that I mean really none, absolutely zero.

But then again what could he have expected?

perhaps he knew right from the moment he set eyes on you, and perhaps... perhaps he liked it.

It oozed from your every pore... your innocence, it was in the way you couldn't meet his gaze, in the way you shivered when his hand grazed against your arm, in the shyness in your voice... it was in everything... it was all of you.

But he nicked at it, piece by piece, brick by brick, he had gotten to know you... maybe a little too much.

He had realized at one point, too late he'd grow to admit, that he liked you, really liked you, in a way he hadn't experienced in ages, in a way that made him feel sixteen all over again.

And yes you were young... much too young for him, and yes you were complete opposites, him, a rough man with enough blood on his hands to make a serial killer's skin crawl, and you, you a pretty little thing who'd lived her whole life in Jackson, safe from the atrocities of the real word... but still, still he he couldn't stop his old heart from beating faster when he was with you.

And that's why one day, one cold, windy day, as snow fell to the ground and you held onto his arm as if it was a life jacket, while he walked you back home, he couldn't do anything but tell the truth.

"Joel" you had said right outside your front door.

"yes sweetheart?" he asked, watching your pretty face fill with dread

"Joel I... I like you"

You'd told him so casually, so simply, that for a moment he wondered if he had imagined it.

But you had misinterpreted his pause all wrong

"I-I'm sorry nevermind, pretend I didn'-"

"no, no I'm sorry" he shook his head, forcing himself out of his trance "You said you like me darlin'?" he asked, taking a step closer to you so he was right there before you, looking down at the gorgeous girl who'd just made all his wishes come true.

"mh-mh" you nodded shily

And at that, he smiled, placing a hand on your reddening cheek, as his thumb gently stroked it

"well then we're in luck" he'd murmured "cause I happen to like you too sweetheart" he promised "a lot"

"r-really?" Your eyes sparked with joy

"of course baby" he breathed, bending down to meet his lips with yours instinctively before your voice stopped him

"wait-" you said

"oh, I'm sorry, I'm going too fast"

"n-no you're not it's just that..."

it was getting harder to meet his gaze again

"if you wanna wait that's ok, sweetie"

"n-no I don't wanna wait, Joel, it's just that-"

"what is it?"

A loud sigh left your mouth before you could respond

"I've never... I've never kissed anybody"

His mouth fell open slightly at the confession, but he recovered quickly, now both his hands holding your pretty face.

"oh" he breathed "that's ok sweetheart, we can wait"

"no I want to kiss you Joel, I really really do... but- but I'm scared I won't be... good at it"

"oh baby" he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle "You'll be great at it, don't you worry"

Your heart was racing and your breathing hitched as you looked up into his hazel eyes

"do you think- do you think you could... teach me?"

Now Joel Miller didn't deem himself a romantic, but the way you said that... the way you gazed dreamily and both anxiously into his eyes as you spoke those words... he had to stop a moment to thank whoever was up there for having allowed him to meet you.

"of course I can" he said

"yeah?"

"there's nothing I'd like more baby"

And that was it, you were smiling like a kid in a candy store

"s-so what do I do?"

His hands were still on your face, holding you in a way that made your knees weak

"just follow my lead, I'll go slow, don't worry"

You nodded at that, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours and you were- you were giving your first ever kiss.

You got up on your tiptoes and held onto his arms as you closed your eyes and got lost in the feeling- and wow- you had only read in books about it and seen it in a couple of the movies they showed in Jackson, but this... this was just amazing, it felt like you were dreaming, like you had ascended to another universe.

He had kept his promise, he did go slow, but it felt heavenly for him too nonetheless.

He leaned away after what was probably an eternity, to look back at you and confirm this was all real

"so?" he asked, "how was it?"

You couldn't help but giggle as you almost jumped out of your skin from the happiness.

"good" you grinned "very very good"

"mmmhh" he hummed, moving one of his hands to your waist to bring you closer to him "'s that right"

"yeah" you breathed so lowly he wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been an inch away from your face

"well I'm glad" he smirked, kissing you on the cheek this time "Hopefully we'll do that again then"

"yes please" 

He chuckled at that, not leaning away

"would you like a goodnight kiss?"

Not a split second passed that you had already answered

"yes" you nodded, leaning up already "yes please"

And that was how it all started.

That was the night you found your true calling... kissing, and not only that, but kissing Joel Miller.

God, there was nothing better than it,

feeling his beard stroke your cheek, the way his strong hands held you as he did, the way he tasted, the way his warmth spread all over your body, it was all just... perfect

And the coolest thing was that when he said he was gonna teach you, he meant it.

Who knew there were so many ways you could kiss someone?

There were the French kisses, the kisses on the neck, the "special kisses" aka hickeys you loved giving him and that he loved pretending not to like, then the kisses standing up, laying down, and your personal favorite: kissing him while sitting on his lap, and then of course as time went on you both found out (although him especially) how much fun it was to kiss in public, at the bar, on patrol, you name it, it didn't matter, what mattered was that his lips were on yours and his arms were around you (and even if he would have never admitted it, he loved it because he loved showing everyone you were his, and he was yours).

If it were up to you, you'd spend your whole life like that, diving your fingers into his hair as his hands explored every inch of your body, your face, your hips, your ass, your belly (above clothes of course), making you shiver and whimper with every movement.

But it was only just kissing, Joel made a promise to himself he was gonna wait, and it's not that he didn't want to go further, god only knew how many times his dick got hard just by giving you a chaste kiss on the lips as he felt your body pressed against his (and yes that did make him feel like a hormonal teenager again, but then again, everything about you did), so no it definitely wasn't that, and he didn't know if it was because he felt guilty or in some way, like he would be doing something wrong, but for now, all he knew was that he needed to wait, wait until he was sure you were sure about him, and about you.

And for now... for now, you were more than happy with it, counting down the seconds until you'd get a taste of him again.

[nicholasdaymiller]

could you do the prompt “lifting the shorter one up so they can be seen in photos” with nick miller and a super short reader??

SHORTIE — nick miller x short!gn!reader

[imagine the gif is how he lifts you up 🥰]

-> okay, here's my first attempt at writing nick miller fic. it's very short, as i said they would be, but i hope you enjoy! i'm nervous lol

••••

it's the eighth wedding of the season. you and the loft family: winston, schmidt, jess, and nick are all sitting around your table, a little bored, and very much wanting to go home.

jess taps you on the shoulder, and you blink rapidly, realising you had been dozing off, "huh? what?"

"they're doing a wedding party photo," she explains, "come on."

"let's get this over with so we can get the hell outta here." winston comments as he rushes out.

you follow your group of friends out onto a field outside, where the entire guest list is shuffling around, finding their spots for the photo.

you end up wedged to the left of the bride, a couple of heads back. the photographer announces loudly that he's ready to start taking shots, and that's when you get up on your toes, trying to get your head in over the taller people in front of you.

tip toes aren't enough, so you try jumping whenever the photographer yells, "aaaand, 3, 2, 1..."

the jumping doesn't help either, so you grab onto schmidt and nick's shoulders. "guys, can you boost me up a little?"

schmidt doesn't hear you amongst the chatter of the guests, but nick looks down at you, confused.

"why?" brows scrunch as he looks down at you.

you gesture pointedly at the people blocking you from being in the photo. "i'm too small." you laugh.

"i gotcha, shortie." nick glances around, then smiles, "i have an idea."

your eyes widen when you suddenly feel one of nick's arms wrap around your waist, while his other slides under your legs. he hoists you up bridal-style. "oof! there we go."

the new height means you can see above the heads in front of you. "uh– thank you." you reply, trying to ignore the butterflies that swarm your stomach at the contact — your arms wrapped around nick's neck, his holding you up with ease.

the photographer yells, "alright! last one, let's make this a fun one!"

you glance at nick, and he nods at you encouragingly before turning back to the camera and sticking out his tongue. you wrap one arm tightly around him, then throw your other arm in the arm, grinning at the camera.

a few days later, when the photos are posted on facebook, you stop on a particular shot. in this photo, nick had just picked you up, and your eyes are locked onto each other, while the rest of the bridal party is looking ahead. you click save.

••••

[if you want me to try writing some more nick stuff - go to this post for some prompts you can send in ❤️]

[navybrat817]

Basement wife for who?

Raymond Smith

William Miller

Bucky Barnes

Nick Fowler

Steve Rogers

Who said I have to pick one, nonnie?

Raymond has an entire estate and a nice room set up for me. He wouldn't need to put me in a basement. Though he does have a special room set up for when I misbehave. 

William would keep me in a cabin in the woods. He wants some peace and quiet after his years of service. And he'll find ways to make me serve him. 

Bucky has places he can keep me and knows how to avoid getting caught, but imagine him fixing up a boat and keeping you captive there to start. Not exactly easy to escape the insatiable ex-assassin. 

Nick knows a basement would be perfect to hold me captive, but uses a panic room of sorts instead. Perfect to come home to and the blinking light in the corner reminds me that he's watching. 

Steve might actually try a basement. White picket fence home. I just need to accept that he won't let me go. 

Steve and Bucky may also have rooms at the compound if they want their girls close together.

So. All of them?

Love and thanks! ❤️

[soft-persephone]

An Easily Avoidable Accident (But I Needed it so Bad)

Sub!Nick Miller x Black!Fem!Reader

I do write with Black Women in mind, but my fics can be read by any woman.

AN: Thank you to my friends that helped me with this fic! It means so much to me and I am so grateful for your generosity! I truly hope you all enjoy this final product!

MDNI // Rating: Explicit // WC 3.8k // Warnings: light Sub!Dom vibes, mild exhibition kink, biting, marking, thing for sounds, extra light hand kink // masterlist

Nick and You had the entire loft to yourselves.

That meant you two had time for anything. No prying eyes and no need to be quiet or fear of being caught by anyone.

Naturally, that meant they had a no pants day.

Nick could free ball it in his boxers and you could wear that little tank top you liked to sleep in and walk around in your underwear.

“I’m pretty sure you were a man in your past life.” Nick joked as you excitedly shimmied out of your sweats and threw them on the other side of the couch.

“There is nothing wrong with me wanting to do this as bad as you! This is normal for all human beings!” You defended yourself with a huff.

“Yes, lots of people enjoy wearing less clothes at home, but you are excited about it in a man way. I can’t explain how, I’m just saying. . . It takes one to know one.”

You smushed his face with a hand and walked past him to the kitchen.

“Fuck you,” you playfully scoffed, “what do you want for breakfast?”

The rest of the day was pleasantly uneventful. As the day went by and the evening wined down, Nick had put his loose sweats back on.

They were old, thin, and ratty. He definitely could not wear them in public anymore.

“You might as well just not wear any pants.” You smiled at him, more out of shock than anything else. You weren’t sure what to think about such a horrible piece of clothing.

“They’re house pants!”

“Your dick is right there!” You yelled back. “It’s like if boxers came in pants size!”

He threw a pillow at you and you threw one back before he wrestled you onto the couch.

Excitement aside.

He was in his favorite spot on the couch, but in an even better way! He could prop his legs up and lean back as comfortable as he wanted to be.

He was a fucking king on his throne and he couldn’t be happier.

You were still walking around in your skimpy underwear and tank top.

He would have wanted you to go throw some pants before the guys come back, but hopefully it was one of those nights where they all found some women to hook up with and stay the night, or just fuck off somewhere.

Instead, he was too comfortable with your ass on his lap and you laying the opposite way on top of him, on your stomach, typing away on your laptop and shifting a hoard of papers to and fro, taking the moment of spare time to get ahead on some work while he lazily watched the game.

Or at least tied to.

God bless them, but he didn’t give a fuck about the Lions and who they were playing.

On any other given day he would have, but it’s hard to remember his love for sports when your hips keep sliding back and forth on him whenever you sit up real quick to get a better look at a paper, your hips pushed forward, right over his dick. Once you finally highlight or read whatever you were trying to read carefully, your hips moved back toward his chest and over his dick once again, leaving him to think of nothing but of how sexy you were.

It wasn’t hard to imagine a more intimate setting.

Hell, even at this moment.

You two in this loft alone, on this very couch in this very moment, naked for no one but God to see, you riding him just like this giving him no choice but to take whatever you gave him.

He brought a hand to his mouth and bit his finger, hard. Willing himself to stay still and not thrust his hips up onto your clothed pussy.

He needed a distraction, but football wasn’t working. You moving your hips and shuffling every five minutes wasn’t working either. Why were you suddenly moving your hips up and down on him like that?.

You slid your hips forward before sighing in frustration and moving them back until his dick was crushed under the weight of your stomach.

Were you trying to kill him? Did you somehow not notice his growing erection?

You sat up, quickly dragging your hips forward, again! But this time it wasn’t where he needed it. This time he needed you on his cock, desperately at that.

“Nick, you okay?” You turned your head back, putting down a paper. The movement causes you to push your glasses back on your nose.

Fuck, you were cute. He hoped you ran out of your contacts forever.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his chest to hide the sound of his moan.

“Nick?”

“Y—yeah.. yeah I’m good. . “ he managed to mumble out.

Solid cover dumbass.

He couldn’t help going back to the thought of you both naked. You turning around to look at him with a different look on your face.

“You got so tense all of a sudden.” You continued before turning around back to your work. “And I know you don’t care about the Lions losing, so I wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything serious.”

“N…no.”

Oh, he was just making it worse, but you were a bigger dumbass than him, apparently. He says it lovingly, but how did you not know?!?!? Were you that into your work?

“Well, just let me know if anything changes.”

You give a quick wink before you turn around, and he moans.

His hips cant up with such force you bounce up and back down on him, and he couldn’t stop the whimper in time.

He covered his face, letting the sounds come out.

“Nick?” Your voice was in a fucking panic and it was embarrassing to say the least.

You try to move but he quickly grasps your hips. His nails are almost digging into your skin.

“Nonodontmove!” He slurs, his voice rising at a higher octave that makes you throb. “Stay,” he was panting now, his chest rising and falling as you put your hands over his,” please,” he openly whined, not holding back or caring anymore,” stay.”

Oh fuck…

You licked your lips and fought against the panic. “Yeah?”

“Can you just wait a little bit longer for me? I Promise to do something as soon as i'm done.”

“Okay,” he licked his lips, his eyes growing full and watery in such a way you wanted to hold your breath.

He looked at you with such adoration and emotion you swore you would die if you didn't look away. They were softer now, much softer. He looked more calm. A stranger to how desperate and wild they were seconds ago, but you weren't fooled.

No, there was a deeper, more sinister side to this yearning gaze.

While he saved putting his heart on his sleeve for rare tender moments, it was also a fucking weapon. A weapon created for your own demise. You fought the urge to give in, to throw her papers aside and everything she’s been working on to give him whatever he wanted.

But you couldn't. No matter how bad you needed it, you couldn’t.

You were emailing back and forth with a client and Xaiviar was cc’d on it as well. He was the lead lawyer on a case and you were helping him with it. The client was about to drop the case altogether, but you managed to find some evidence that would ensure the jury was siding in her favor.

If she was patient and held out, she would get everything she deserved and the bastard that hurt her could pay.

You just needed some fucking time!

Nick found a documentary about gorillas.

Nice!

As much as he loved them and tried to bring up the essay he wrote on them one morning after doing a bunch of mystery pills that he took one night, he could care less about them right now. He loved you just a tiny bit more.

He bit his lip and tried to let his better nature take hold of him.

Nick's hands were gliding across your skin. Smoothing and kneading the plump flesh of your thighs before coming up to rest at your hips for while, but it didn’t last. He soon became antsy, needing to touch you.

Hoping that just the feel of you in his hands would be enough to distract him from how hard he was. That it wouldn’t make anything worse for him.

But it was making it worse for you.

You could hardly concentrate.

After rediscovering every curve and dip of your body. Every scar, bump, and blemish of your smooth supple skin. It always held a subtle glow, bringing attention to your more than lovely over and undertones. He wanted to put you on display so everyone could see this much of your skin.

The world deserve to know how beautiful your skin was. How beautiful you were.

He decided to test puting his hands on your thighs to see if that would help. His fingers gently graze against your inner thighs. Going up and up until he was too close to your center, daring not to get too close, and moving them back towards your knee. He couldn't stop.

It was mindless action, hypnotizing even.

“Nick,” your tone was bitter in your mouth, sounding harsh to your owne ears, “stop it.”

You snapped around to face him with a glare.

Where these emotions were coming from was a mystery to you, but the foreign feeling twisted your stomach with anticipation.

Nick's eyes were half lidded and struggling to stay open. He gurgled out a moan, the action making him cover his face with his hands.

“Nick. . .” You absentmindedly licked your lips, “let me see your face.”

Nick's chest had been moving up and down erratically since you turned around. His soft pants spurred you on.

Your mind was racing with what to possibly say or do next.

Nick slowly placed his hands on his chest, rubbing at it in circles with his left hand. A sign that usually meant he was anxious.

Every part of him was strained in concentration towards you as if the mere thought of looking away would hurt too much. His eyes were dark, wet, and needy.

Your mouth fell open in a silent o, and you ground your hips down in one fluid motion causing you both to moan.

You both were so fucked.

A wave of something was washing over you. It crashed and crashed against your entire being and the anxiety bubbled in fear of it taking you under, whatever this was. The foreign lightning of it all cracked and crackled in your veins.

Your laptop quipped out a short sound. Then, and only then, you notice how quiet the room was.

You momentarily turned, checking the message in your email.

Dear Ms, I am sorry for getting so indecisive at such a crucial time in the case. Everything has just been so stressful. I wanted it all to be over as quickly as possible, adn i got in the way of you adn your firm doing the job that I, myself hired you to do. I am so terribly sorry. I would liek to see this man put behind bars for good or worse.

Thank you again for everything. I leave my fate in your hands.

Thank, God!

You said a quick prayer, and emailed your client back, making sure to cc Xaiviar.

You closed your laptop and shuffled your papers back into a bifold, tossing them along the further end of the couch, but not so far that they’d fall.

Keeping your position, you turned slightly, moving Nicks shirt up as high as it could go. You eyed his chest, the wide expanse of hair there you’ve obsessed over from time to time, the happy trail that was also a favorite of yours.

Nick’s body moved with the flow of your hand.

“Please,” his voice was higher and strained as stuttered the words out, “please, I’ll be so good please. Just please.”

You ground your hips on his, masking are you were positioned in just the right spot. The feeling of him through your underwear just felt to good. Your movements were slow and steady. Just enough to drive you both crazy, but not nearly enough for either of you.

The anticipation of it was thrilling. Your heads grew headier and headier with each sound he made. With every stutter, pant, and moan he made

The door clicked and you both froze.

“What pray tell is going on in here?” A voice boomed.

Nick cleared his throat and put his hands in a more casual position at your waist. Squeezing lightly just to keep you still.

“Hey, Coach.” It came out gravely but natural.

You were surprised, thinking about how he sounded like he was going to explode just a few moments earlier.

“Don’t, “hey Coach me. You weirdo.” He scoffed. “Go have sex in your room like the rest of us! Just because you're having sex with the same girl every night doesn’t make it okay to play exhibitionist!”

“Nick and his girl is doing what!” Winston slammed the door. “That’s disgusting!”

“Mhmm.” Coach sassily added.

“Oh. My. God.” Nick covered his face with his hands.

Needless to say. All the sexual tension was sucked out of the room. Sitting like this on Nick‘’a lap was starting to make you feel overexposed and awkward.

He reached over and stretched to pull the blanket usually strown accross the couch to cover your body with. You silently thanked him, and avoided looking Coach or Winston in the eye.

“You,” Coach pointed at you,” I am very disappointed in.”

“But, Ernie—“ you pouted.

“—No!” He interrupted. “No Earnie! From now on you call me Coach just like everyone else!”

“Bu—“

“No buts! You have to earn your way back up to calling me my name! “ he shook his head at you with so much disgust it felt absurd.

He was really mad at you. . .

“Now you two go to your room and think about what you did!”

“Mh mh mh.” Winston shook his head with an equal amount of distaste.

Needless to say you both retreated into Nick's room for a very awkward and short walk of shame.

-

“Please. . . Oh, wait. . . Fuck.” Nick moaned before whimpering out your name.

You made him cum with your hand twice, then three times with your mouth, and one more time after that because you just couldn’t help yourself.

His hands were gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles were white.

You had your hands braced against his chest and you slowly sat on his cock. He was stretching you wide with how thick he was. In this new position, it felt even thicker, making it harder than normal.

“Please,” his voice several octaves higher, letting you know just how close he was. “Let me help. Let me touch you.” He strained out before gritting his teeth.

“I.. got it.” You had to fight your instinct to tense your whole body once you had finally taken all of him in. He was so big and thick you could just feel him pressing against your spot already, making you breathless in the process.

You massaged his chest. Starting with his shoulders, and moving down to his pecs. You squeezed them, reveling in the feeling of his pliant flesh in your hands. In another time or setting you would have liked to bend down and suck on one. Biting and relishing the feeling is him in your mouth, so hard he’d bruise for weeks, fading until stray marks of your teeth were implanted into his skin.

Keeping your hands there for balance, you slowly rose up until only his tip was inside before grinding down slowly until all of him was inside of you again.

“Your doing so good baby.”

His cock twitched inside of you at the praise, making your mouth fall open in a silent moan.

You quickened your pace ever so lightly. Nick’s hands fisting the sheets. Each one spurred you on further, filling you with an unbearable heat. It seers through every pore of your body. Opening up every space of your skin, consuming every part of Nick as possible.

His whines, his pants, and his moans. The way his skin turned an angry red all over. Proudly displaying the evidence that you both were on fire.

“Touch me” You moaned softly.

He was on you in an instant. He pushed himself up by his elbows. His hands, his massive warm hands roamed every inch of your skin. Burning you in their haste to feel your waist, the expense of your back, and the peaks of your breast. He pulled, squeezed, and tweaked them until you had to push his hands away.

“Not nice is it?” He huffed in your face with a short laugh. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours. Where his began and yours stopped was indistinguishable as you both panted in the sliver of space between one another.

He leaned in for a kiss, and you pulled your head back slightly out of his reach with similar amusement.

“I never gave you permission to kiss me.”

His eyes grew wide and blown out. His brown irises drowned in the pools of his pupils as he looked at you with such reverence.

He quickly pivoted and moved to mouthing at your neck, biting you hard as he whined into your flesh.

“You're such a good boy Nick,” his hips thrust up into yours, hard. “Oh, you're so so good.” He did it again this time before squeezing his fingers into you. His nails were sure to leave little moons into your skin for weeks.

You laughed. It was breath, trained, and cruel.

“Ah, ah, ah,” You grabbed his hair tightly, pulling his mouth off of you. “I wanna hear you baby. I thought you were my good boy?”

“I am! I am, please!” He whimpered into your skin, keeping his head underneath your chin, his mouth open and close to you. Because if he couldn’t keep his mouth on you, he’d find a way to get as close to it as possible without disobeying you.

“You gotta let me hear every sound that comes out of your mouth baby, okay?”

His fingers adjusted their grip on your hips, pulling and stretching at your skin as tight as it could go, making hissed in response. Even when his brain was fuzzy with arousal and he was overwhelmed with praise or reprimand from you, he could still do the little things that drove you wild. Whether he was in control or not, he could bite, mark, and rough you up in all the ways you loved.

He’s going to drive you mad. You're sure of it now.

“I need your help baby?” You moved so you both would be eye to eye with one another. “I need you fuck me now.” You cupped both sides of his face. “I can’t get us both where we need to be.” You kissed him all over. His cheeks, his forehead, up and down his neck, before you bit down in several places, sucking harder than you ever had. He let out a soft meek sound you didn’t think was possible. Almost gentle if his voice wasn’t such a low raspy thing. Almost gravely sometimes when it wasn’t smooth and addicting.

The closest thing you could describe it as would be a mewl of some kind. It was a sound only you could pull out of him. A side of him only you were privy to. No one else.

Your walls clenched around him at the sound. He did it again.

“Fuck, baby.” Your chest heaved. “I’m not gonna last much longer, I need you to fuck me, now.” You pulled his hair for emphasis.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

He rutted his hips into yours at a hard, brutal pace. And with every high pitched murmur of good boy, your so good, your so perfect for me, he thrust up into you harder.

“Love you baby,” you nibbled into his ear, “love how good you feel inside me. It's like you were made for me.” You kissed him as hard as you could without getting lost of how he was sliding in and out of you. The loud wet slaps of his hips hitting yours were filling the room, driving you both crazy. “You're mine. My baby boy, so good for me.”

He whimpered again, mewling into your ear as he cradled your neck with one final grip as he came. Filling you up. It was so so much. Your legs grew tight, your muscles squeezing past their limit before you followed him soon after.

He pulled out laying you down on your back. Peppering your skin with soft kisses.

“You're amazing!” His eyes sparkled.

“Was that really your first time doing something like that?” You grabbed at the sheets to hide your face. It was hot and burning even more so after the sex you just had. You did not want to talk about it.

“Hey, hey,” he uncovered your face and moved to straddle your lap. He grabbed your hands and put them over your head. “Please,” he looked into your eyes again,. “Don’t hide from me. I really want to know.”

It was what you two did.

When things were too tough to talk about. . . Or weird and embarrassing. Eye contact just worked. It made you both feel safer and calmer to see the other person wasn’t judging you. That they were genuine in whatever way they wanted to support you.

You nodded weakly. Not trusting your words.

“Well you're a natural.”

“Nick we gotta—“

“—Don’t worry. I will buy a planb for you tomorrow. We got a little carried away and forgot about condoms.” He waved his free hand in dismissal before smiling. “It’s okay. I got it handled.”

“I was going to ask if you could let me go now.”

“Let you go.” He tightened his grip on your hands. He still wore his charming smile, but his eyes were growing dark and cloudy, pooling with desire. “Now why would I let you go when I have to pay you back for every time you wouldn’t let me kiss or touch you.”

He suddenly thrust his thick very hard cock into you, still wet from both of you.

“I'm not done with you yet.”

Tags: @notapradagurl7 @megamindsecretlair @headcannonxgalore @cottonpuffmouse @crispysublimecupcake @jellyreblogs @blowmymbackout

Please let me know if you ever want to be tagged on my fics! It’s no trouble at all and I would be honored to do so!

[rae-gar-targaryen]

a thousand assumptions [tommy miller x fem!reader -- preview]

pairing: tommy miller x reader

rating: 18+, minors dni (this preview is safe)

Just a sneak peek. Full fic coming soon. Below the cutttt

✨ Let me know if you want a tag! ✨

“Your favorite flowers are magnolia blooms.”

You shake your head, allowing the feel of the sheet to softly scrape along the side of your cheek as you did so, gazing up through your lashes at the man above you. Placing all of his weight onto his one arm so that his other hand can caress your cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb a different kind of delightful scrape along your skin – a gentle, pleasurable rasp.

“No?” He asks, seeking assurance that you were the one mistaken, and not him.

Tommy Miller is nothing if not assured, the military breeding into him a kind of self-possession that the Fireflies have since affirmed.

“No,” you confirm, your lips curling into a half-smile as you allow Tommy to continue to caress your cheek. Not so keen to be seen in his eyes as favoring such a symbol for purity as a magnolia flower, not when the world was like this. “Though I remember reading once that magnolias were basically prehistoric. Cool, right? Still, not my favourite ... so, my turn.”

You prop up to peck at his lips before settling back down onto the mattress, eyeing Tommy as though he were prey.

“Do your worst,” Tommy purrs, skimming his hand down your cheek down and over your throat, pausing there to feel the evenness of your next breath, the smooth roll of your swallow – before continuing down and allowing the warmth of his palm to seep into the skin of your hip. His eyes sparkling and smiling at your form, roving you lazily with all the darkness and depth of slow-drip coffee. Something to be savored.

Moments like this were rare at the end of the world.

“Hmmm,” you ponder, allowing your eyes to roll over the man before you like a wave – washing over inky, obsidian curls that you had swept from his face with feverish fingers and totalitarian tugging, stuck at odd angles as a result of your passionate attention. Taking in the broad sweep of his shoulders and the expanse of warm, coppered skin littered with freckles like cocoa powder and the silvery crescent moons of nicks and scars, seemingly in equal measure.

You paused to savor the scars. Whether they were the result of his time in the military, an ill-advised barfight from the world before, or from a much-less savory present, you weren’t sure. And far be it from you to ask.

Tapping your chin as though deep in thought while you allowed yourself to savor his beauty in the creeping burnt-orange light of the rising morning, a stolen memory within a stolen moment.

Tommy, clearly having grown tired of waiting for you to provide your guess, sweeps over you fully now, pressing his lips to your neck, dotting the column of your throat with feverish kisses, imagining – or maybe he didn’t have to – the stutter in your already-fluttering pulse as he draws the bridge of his nose over the tender skin of your shoulder.

“No, no!" You squeal, urging Tommy to pause his amorous assault. "Wait, I’ve got it,” you announce, your fingers tangling in his curls once more and pulling him from your skin. Your eyes meeting his honeydrip ones while you deliver your answer, cupping his cheeks and locking your gaze with his. “You’re a younger sibling.”

And it’s a bold assumption to make, to phrase it in the present tense. Glaringly bold to assume that if he does have an older sibling, they’re still alive.

But you can’t take the words back once they’ve left your lips.

Tommy is silent for a moment, his eyes casting down to gaze unseeingly at the peaks of your collarbones before blinking and holding your gaze once more, the swirl of honey in them still glinting at you teasingly – your game still apparently intact. Lilting and loving.

“And how d’ya figure?” he presses, his lips curled into something that might be a smile – if it wasn’t so wistful.

“Your skin, here,” you release his jaw from your hold to allow the thumbs of each hand to trace the thin, fine-lined skin along the outsides of his eyes. “You have crow’s feet. But no lines here …” Your right thumb gently traces along the skin of his forehead between his eyebrows. “You’re someone who's laughed a lot, but not much stress. No frowning. No fretting. Just like a younger sibling – No cares in the world when you’ve got someone else to do your worrying. To look out for you."

Tommy is silent as you finish. You drop your hand from his face, resting it along your own skin as you figure his gaze, worrying your lower lip between your teeth as you figure you may have overstepped. May have ruined your little game.

A game you’ve played how many times now?

Something like "Twenty Questions" that’s become more like … "A Thousand Assumptions." Somewhere between spilling information from your lips and into his ears – the ears of the Fireflies, did you find yourself in Tommy’s arms. And then in his bed. Spilling other kinds of secrets, acknowledging truths about yourself in the guise of a game. A game where one of you would make an assumption that the other would have to confirm. A dangerous thing, to allow someone to know you in this climate.

And if you'd overstepped, it was a secret Tommy wasn't letting you in on.

His eyes followed the trail of his hand, from your throat back to your chin. His thumb finding your lower lip, tugging it loose from between your teeth, eyes following the plush of your flushed lip, his eyes dancing with mirth and want.

"Smart girl," Tommy rumbles. "You want your prize, sweet thing?"

Tommy surges forward, capturing your covered lower lip between his own, a means to swallow you whole with clandestine kisses and feverish longing. It's not as though he could give you forever. But he could give you this.

[stellanisms]

( herman tømmeraas, 23, cis male, he/him ) stellan alto has been living in point place for thirteen years. their favorite song is somebody to love by queen. they’re currently up to working at the fotohut, but they’d rather be smoking weed & sketching. first impressions usually stick around here, and others describe them as secretive, alluring, & humble. stick around to get to know the real them.

basic stats ;

⟶ full name: stellan paolo alto ⟶ nicknames: usually just goes by stellan. if he really likes you, you might get away with... stellbells ⟶ three things he likes: people who mind their own business, rock music, drawing and painting ⟶ three things he dislikes: people who talk too much, someone who can’t pronounce his name properly, salt and vinegar chips ⟶ gender: cis male ⟶ height: 5 ‘ 11 ⟶ age: 23 ⟶ birthday: january 23, 1955 ⟶ zodiac: aquarius sun ( capricorn - aquarius cusp, or the cusp of ‘mystery and imagination’ ), virgo moon, capricorn ascendant ⟶ right handed or left handed: ambidextrous, more comfortable with his left hand ⟶ eye color: green, and shifts with lighting. sometimes they will look grey, other times hazel, other times a yellow tint, but predominantly green ⟶ hair color: naturally really, really light blonde, but has been dying his hair dark brown since he was eleven, hates being naturally blonde ⟶ piercings and tattoos: no piercings, an aquarius symbol on his left wrist ⟶ languages spoken: swedish ( native tongue ), portuguese ( father’s native tongue ), english, basic spanish ⟶ sexuality / romantic orientation: bisexual / bioromantic ( closeted, repressed, with a strong male preference ) ⟶ place of birth: stockholm, sweden ⟶ hometown: point place, wisconsin ⟶ five aesthetics: golden rings placed across bruised and cut up fingers, an envy worthy side profile, green eyes gazing into the sunset, fights with your father so ugly you turn the music up to turn your thoughts down, a long list of unsaid things ⟶ character inspo: rosa diaz from brooklyn 99, adam groff from sex education, garrett mcneil from superstore, nick miller from new girl

background story ;

stellan was born in sweden’s capital, stockholm, to a single mother named anya berg. his father, a portuguese man named paolo alto, was in and out of the picture when he was younger. stellan somewhat had contact with him at first, but eventually, he stopped visiting, stopped writing, and stellan never bothered to keep in touch with him, as he lived on the other side of the world in the states

his upbringing wasn’t the best, but his mother cared about him, and a lot. when he was younger, he was a very hyperactive child. he talked a lot, he misbehaved a lot, and he never knew when to stop. his mother, while she adored him, did little to nothing to help his behavior

in fact, every few months or so, stellan met a new guy his mother was seeing, and was forced to call him ‘dad’, which only worsened his hyperactive behavior, and caused him to act out in school

it was always someone rich, someone who could pay their apartment off and buy him nice things until his mother grew sick of them and moved onto the next. it was a continuous cycle, and unfortunately, stellan didn’t know anything besides that. to him, having a new partner who paid your bills every few months was normal. after all, it was something his mother often did

still, stellan didn’t resent his mother despite her behavior. even with her flighty ways, she always at least tried to be a good mom, and eventually, he began taking advantage of the situation, often times milking his mother’s new lovers for things he wanted, since he knew it wouldn’t be long before he was taking advantage of some other idiot

soon enough, his mother met a man who was bound to show up in his nightmares sooner rather than later. this man’s name was david. at first, david appeared to be a nice, loving man, but soon enough, stellan realized he wasn’t who he appeared to be

! tw the next two bullets contain abuse, and brief mentions of molestation, proceed with caution ! one day, when his mother is out and about, and he thinks david is sound asleep in her room, stellan sneaks inside and begins to look through his wallet, prepared to steal his money and blame it on him being reckless. little does he expect for david to wake up while he’s in the middle of doing this, and little does he expect for him to be black out drunk. he was caught red handed, and before he can even try to think of some shitty excuse, david begins to hit him, and scream at him while calling him many names, such as brat, spoiled, robber, etc

and honestly, stellan doesn’t really know what to do. he’s ten at the time, so he kind of just takes it because for one, david is a lot bigger and obviously stronger than he is. eventually, david lets him go, and he struggles back into his room, breaking down into tears. not even a full ten minutes pass by and david is walking inside, apologizing over and over again, and telling him how much he loves him and his mother, to which stellan just cries. even when david is telling him how special he is, even when david is leaning in for a hug. but a hug turns into a kiss, and a kiss turns into a touch, and stellan isn’t sure what happened or what to even call what happened, but he knows deep down in his heart that he didn’t like it. it made him feel unsafe, and uncomfortable and scared, but he’s being told over and over again that no one would ever believe him if he ever says anything, so despite desperately wanting to tell his mother what happened when she got home, he doesn’t, and tells her that his wounds are a result of a fight he picked at school

the next two months are hell on earth for him. it takes two months of seeing his aggressor, two months of sharing a roof with him, and two months for his mother to get sick of david and move onto the next. still, what happened between them that night is forever engraved into his brain, giving him repetitive nightmares

from then on out, unfortunately, things only seem to worsen for him. his mother is diagnosed with breast cancer and passes away after a few months, and, the only person stellan can think to call is his father, even though he hasn’t spoken to him in years

thankfully for him, his father is more than willing to care for him, but that meant leaving a life he’s always known and moving to a place, and a continent, he’s never even considered visiting before. stellan permanently moves in with his father in point place, wisconsin when he’s almost eleven years old

that once talkative, energetic and bubbly kid he was is replaced by someone cold, calculating, and unwelcoming. his demeanor and personality completely change after the things he’s been through, resulting in him turning into someone he told himself he would never be

his father, while he isn’t a terrible guy, doesn’t share the same views that he does, which results in them constantly fighting, up to the point where his teenage years feel like a nightmare

stellan doesn’t talk much at school. in fact, he often ignores people and was even once asked ‘do you speak’, to which he just ignored the question and walked past said person. while he isn’t a bully, he found himself picking fights with people who tested his patience, turning into someone mean and even aggressive when messed around with. the amount of times he’s come home with bruised and bloody knuckles after picking a fight was truly unbelievable, but in his eyes, why were people in his way?

even with all of this, stellan isn’t stupid. he graduates high school easily, but decides against going to college, and with money he saved up from working at the fotohut and secretly selling weed, stellan manages to finance a small apartment to move away from his father, a place he can somewhat call home

headcanons ;

stellan is a very creative individual. he loves to draw and paint and finds this to be a relaxing past time. he is what you would call the ‘quiet artsy stoner guy’

he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life. part of him wants to finish a small career and become an interior designer to make more money, but the other part of him is depressed and unmotivated

surprisingly, he’s good at distributing money. he isn’t rich, but he’s never lacking in anything because he’s smart financially, tricks he’s picked up from a few of his mother’s previous rich boyfriends

stellan can be very mean, but when you really get to know him, which is rare, he’s like a different person. stellan isn’t someone that you want as your enemy, because if he really doesn’t like you, he can genuinely make your days a living hell

he has undiagnosed ptsd and bipolar disorder, with more manic episodes than anything. he will be up for days with little to no sleep, manic as hell, and think nothing is wrong with him. during these manic episodes, he can get very creative and paint and paint and paint, but he can also become very destructive, and restless in a bad way

despite really needing help, and to probably be put on medication, stellan doesn’t believe in therapy, something his mother and father have engraved into his brain. as they have both stated, ‘we don’t do therapy, that’s for the weak’

besides painting, and working, stellan likes going to the gym. he isn’t one of those gym junkies, but he feels like exercise keeps his mind occupied, and he’s a big fan of not thinking, because his thoughts can get rather dark

honestly hate this but he has… a pet snake. a scarlet kingsnake to be exact. the snake is only sixteen inches long, nonvenomous and absolutely harmless, but anyone who doesn’t like snakes is iffy. his snake is named snake bell, a funny take on taco bell. really describes his personality spot on, but he loves this snake

he smokes a lot of weed, up to the point where it makes him idiotic, but he doesn’t really do anything else besides that. realistically speaking, he isn’t opposed to experimenting, but most of the time, he’s too busy to partake in such things

he has never told anyone about what happened with david, not only because he finds it difficult to talk about, but because he thinks it will make him appear as weak, and he thinks this will make people feel sorry for him, which is the last thing he wants

stellan has a rocky relationship with his father. they rarely agree on anything and any time they see each other, they just fight. his father can be a real hard ass. he only spoke swedish and english when he first moved in with him, but his father forced him to learn portuguese, which is his native tongue. stellan speaks very good portuguese, but isn’t a fan of the language

he has a very big tendency to push people away. he would rather be alone and he makes this very clear, as he can be somewhat hostile and cold upon talking to him

stellan constantly has bruised and bloody knuckles covered in rings. he doesn’t pick fights like he used to in his teenage years, but he’s always up for a throw down. he can genuinely throw a very good punch. call it the gym or whatever, but he could cause some serious damage if he really wants to

he is a closeted bi with a strong male preference. he has only just come to terms with this, and he represses it because of his upbringing. stellan honestly assumes it’s just a phase and that it will pass, and he partially blames it on the trauma he’s experienced with david, thinking that somewhat shaped his idea of men, but in reality no... you’re just kind of gay and that’s fine stellan, come on

maybe it’s because of his experience with david, or the ugly things he’s been through, but he’s very big on the idea of hurting someone before they can hurt him. he would never let anyone hurt him the way david has in the past, which is why he would rather strike first. you can’t hurt him if his walls are so high, right?

stellan has been dying his hair since before he was even a pre teen. he is a natural light blonde ( i’m talking draco malfoy blonde ), but he hates being blonde. in fact, very few people, or literally no one at all, is even aware of the fact that he’s blonde. to everyone, he is a natural brunette, people don’t know any better

despite not showing it, one day, he wants to find love. the idea scares the shit out of him, but he secretly wants it

stellan’s uncle is the one and only axel berg. he’s one of the few people stellan feels like he can count on, and maybe somewhat open up to

wanted connections ; 

it feels like we only go backwards: stellan already doesn’t have the best judgment, but neither does this muse, and they’re basically just toxic for each other. it’s like when they get together, it’s just dark, yet there’s a certain attraction they can’t seem to avoid. this can be completely platonic, or it could turn romantic, i’m down for whatever!

you used to call me on my house phone: someone he was somewhat close to in high school, but they drifted apart and now it’s kind of awkward. they could have had a falling out, or they could have just stopped talking to each other. either way, they don’t call each other’s house phones anymore

take a picture, it’ll last longer: someone who always comes to the fotohut. whether it’s to see him, or simply because they take a lot of photos, is entirely up to the mun, but stellan may or may not be sick of seeing this muse

don’t let me get me: a muse who can sense that he’s been through a lot of trauma and tries to fix him, or maybe be there for him and let him know that they have a friend and that they’re not alone. stellan probably pushes this muse away a lot

stoner circle at the fotohut: someone who smokes with him and the iconic leo at the fotohut on the job. they just laugh at stupid things and roast other people’s idiotic photos together

i know you’re secret: hear me out... someone who knows he’s a natural blonde. how they know can be plotted, but stellan hates the fact that this muse knows. literally tells them repeatedly not to say anything, as if being naturally blonde is a crime

you’re my favorite muse: his muse! i feel this would have to go a bit off chemistry, but maybe someone he draws or someone who inspires him to be creative. this could turn out romantic, or could stay completely platonic as well!

laundry mat buddies stick together: someone who is always doing their laundry at the laundry mat whenever he is, up to the point where they’ve become cool with each other while they wait for their clothes to wash. maybe they smoke at the parking lot and listen to queen in stellan’s car

let’s be friends so we can makeout: friends who sometimes kiss each other or whatever, probably open to females only because i feel he has no experience with men whatsoever, despite knowing deep down that he prefers them

or we can plot!

birthchart ;

[starsdrew]

◟ ⋆ ❛ jess  blinked  in  confusion  ,  head  shaking  .  “  seriously  ,  nick  ?  ”  she  questioned  ,  exasperated  .  never  in  her  life  ,  did  jessica  day  imagine  she'd  be  spending  her  youth  living  with  someone  like  nick  miller  .  he  was  the  polar  opposite  of  her  ,  and  they  really  couldn't  be  more  different  .  she  was  already  pulling  up  her  phone  ,  googling  pictures  of  baby  pigeons  to  show  up  .  “  nick  ,  you've  gotta  lay  off  the  videos  ,  man  .  birds  are  just  birds  !  they  are  not  working  for  the  government  !  ”

his arms flew out to his sides. " show me a baby pigeon , jess !! and not some fake ai garbage that's on google ... " nick raised his eyebrows. " first and foremost , those videos are more true than whatever is on the local news. it's real. the birds work for the bourgeoisie , whatever that is !! i think it's another government organization that they're hiding from us !! "

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas - Day 6

Prompt (by @12-days-of-ficmas): i know it’s supposed to be romantic to be snowed in but literally all i have in my apartment is pop tarts

Word Count: 1.9K

Story Description: Nick Miller has it all planned out. A rental just for him and (Y/N), a dinner reservation, and a week by themselves during Christmas in Chicago. The only thing he can't predict is how the weather will be.

Fandom: New Girl

Pairing: Nick Miller x Female!Reader

A/N: no, I am not posting on day seven day six, that is not what I'm doing 🫣

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Nothing Ever Goes According to Plan

He meant well.

Nick Miller always meant well.

He had planned a whole trip to Chicago for the winter with his girlfriend (Y/N). They had been very busy as of lately. He with his writing and she with her graphic design clients. Especially as the holidays snuck up on them, they had less and less time to see each other.

But Nick wanted to change that. They had already decided to spend Christmas in Chicago with his family. And as much as he loved them, he could barely spend a few hours in a confined space with them, let alone a week. He also couldn’t bring himself to do that to (Y/N). Having to spend the holidays in the piercing Chicago winter was torture enough.

He had rented an apartment just for the two of them. Close enough that they could see his family on Christmas day but far enough that they wouldn’t drop by for a visit. A nice AirBnB to spend the week in together. It was even adorned with beautiful Christmas decorations.

Nick arrived a day before his girlfriend. He had said it was so he could spend some one-on-one time with his family. But in reality, he had something else planned for her arrival.

“Look, Jess, I have told you the plan twenty times already,” Nick sighed into his phone. “I’m sure it’s gonna be fine.”

“Just tell me one more time, Nick! I wanna make sure everyone is on schedule.”

“UGH! Fine. She gets here at three, we have some couple-y alone time, then at 6 we get to Piccolo where we will be escorted to the outdoor patio where I’ll finally pop the question,” he listed off. “Then, if she says yes…”

“When she says yes,” Jess interrupted.

“Sure. We’ll go inside where you will all celebrate the fact that she is crazy enough to want to spend her life with me.”

“Stop it, Nick. I’ve never seen either of you this happy,” she reprimanded. “Now, you’ve got the ring?”

“Yes.”

“You confirmed the reservation?”

“Ya-huh.”

“Did you check the weather for today?”

Nick kept quiet for a couple of seconds. He thought he had done everything possible to ensure the night would go without a hitch. Except check the unpredictable weather of the winter. He had gotten used to the warm and sunny days of California so it didn’t cross his mind to verify that snow would ever ruin everything he had planned.

“You know they’re saying it might snow a lot tonight,” Jess regained his attention. “Maybe we can think of plan B, just in case something happens.”

“It’s gonna be fine Jessica,” Nick laughed nervously. “I’m pretty sure it won’t snow that much. I would know. I’m from Chicago.”

He didn’t have a backup plan. He didn’t want one. Nick wanted everything to go as he had been playing out in his head. Nothing less than perfection.

Somehow, he found himself nervously cleaning the place as he waited for the clock to hit three in the afternoon, and (Y/N) knocked on the door. The apartment was already clean but he needed to hyper-fixate on something that didn’t make him lose his mind.

Before he knew it, a knock rapped on the door and the nerves built up once again inside him. If she was here that could only mean that they were hours closer to a life-changing decision. And (Y/N) had all the power to turn all his Christmases into a time to remember or a time he would always dwell on.

“Uh, Nick?” (Y/N) called from the other side of the door. “Can you let me in, babe? It’s freezing out here.”

“Yeah, yeah! Just a sec,” he responded as he took one final look around the place to make sure it looked perfect. “Hey.”

“Hey, you,” (Y/N) smiled as soon as her boyfriend opened the door. She gave him a quick peck on his lips as she passed the threshold, patting away the snow that had accumulated on her clothes. “It’s really coming down out there. Looks like I got here just in time before things get ugly.”

“What’d you mean?”

“Well, snow’s already coming down hard and they say that six more inches of snow are gonna fall.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, a tempting smile on her face. “But enough about that, huh?  It’s the first time in a long time that we’ve been together with no other things to worry about. Let’s make up for some lost time.”

“I like where your mind is, girl,” Nick answered, pushing his worries to the back of his mind.

***

The pair lay in bed, enjoying the warmth of the apartment. After engaging in the physical activity they had missed out on in a while, they were pretty worn out. (Y/N)’s head was on Nick’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he drew circles on her back.

“It’s a bit romantic, don’t you think?” she said softly. “You and me, trapped in this very nice apartment, a white Christmas happening outside. It’s charming.”

Panic set into him once again. Whilst his mind was elsewhere, he had completely forgotten about the weather predicament. “Well, babe, being snowed in might sound romantic,” he said. “But all I’ve got in the apartment is beer and pop tarts.” 

“Very college-esque of you,” she chuckled. “I think we can manage for a night. You know, we can start now, be drunk by seven and back in bed by nine. We’ll sleep through the whole night.”

“But we’ve got that reservation at that restaurant I told you about. It took me a long time to get it.” 

“We can call and reschedule, baby. I mean, given the weather conditions I’m sure they’d understand,” she reasoned. “Now, I’m gonna go get a beer and sit by the fire. You can join me if you want. But I’m drinking with or without you.” 

As soon as she was out of the room, Nick scurried for his phone. Calling the only person he knew could help.

“Jess! I’m freaking out,” he scream whispered.

“You’re snowed in?”

“Uh-huh.”   

“And the only plan you had is falling apart?”

 “You know it,” he replied. “I know I screwed up by not having a backup, but I don’t want to hear an ‘I told you so’ right now.” 

“Okay, calm down, Nick. I’ll call the restaurant and have them set up the same thing for tomorrow. I’ll send out a message to everyone telling them about the change of plans. And you, my friend, are going to enjoy this night with your girlfriend soon-to-be fiancé.” 

“Thanks, Jess.”

“Sure thing. It’s all gonna work out, Nick,” she said in an attempt to calm him down. “Now, I’ve gotta go 'cause I am also snowed in with Sam and I’m gonna take advantage of the situation.”

“You dirty dog,” he chuckled. “Have fun!”

He hung up the phone, feeling relief wash over him before he walked out to the living room. There, (Y/N) had taken out a six-pack of beer from the fridge and had started on her first one. In front of her was a plate with two pop tarts, and one of them had a bite taken off.

“Ready to get drunk?” she asked Nick when she saw him come out of the bedroom. “As you can see, I’ve already started.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he smiled.

Two hours and twelve beers later, they were sat next to the apartment’s Christmas tree staring at the twinkling lights. They were bundled in each other’s arms, a warm blanket wrapped around them. They had drunk, watched movies, drunk some more, and ate half a box of Pop-Tarts. But they’d gotten to the point where their minds were hazy from the alcohol and everything around them was a very intriguing sight.

“This is fun,” she said. “I could do this forever.”

Forever triggered something in drunk Nick. Suddenly, the box in his pocket was burning a hole in his pants.

“Funny you should mention that,” he chuckled dryly.

“Mention what?” 

“That!”

“What are you talking about?” she laughed.

“Forever.” 

(Y/N) didn’t understand where he was going with his line of thinking. But it intrigued her. So, she asked, “What about forever?” 

“You know, I had a whole thing planned,” he started. “But I forgot to check the weather. I grew up here and I forgot to check the damn weather.” 

“Babe, why are you rambling on about the weather?”

“Might as well get this over with,” he smiled. “I, uh, had been planning something for a while now. But like most of my plans, things didn’t really turn out the way they should. You know, you start with one thing and make sure it’s perfect. Once it’s perfect you don’t want to mess with it. And you always do it with the best intentions, but the world doesn’t care about good intentions. And…”

“Nick,” she interrupted him. “Don’t mean to cut you here, but you’re rambling.” 

“I had this whole speech planned,” he went on. “But for the life of me, I can’t remember it right now. So, I’ll speak from the heart – 'cause I’m very good at that, especially when I’m drunk.” 

Nick moved his body until he was sitting face-to-face with her. He took her hands in his and continued.

“(Y/N), I love you. I love you so damn much,” Nick smiled. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Making plans that always get screwed up. I want to get drunk right before Christmas. I wanna go to crazy expensive restaurants with you and leave because we hate the food there. I want a house, and kids, and everything that comes with life. I want it all and I want it with you!”

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

He pulled the black box out of his pocket, revealing the ring he’d guarded for six months and somehow had managed to hide it all that time. “Will you make the craziest decision of your life and agree to marry me?”

“Nick! Yes! A thousand times yes!” (Y/N) exclaimed as she threw her arms around him, knocking him back onto the floor. She landed on top of him and they both laughed. “And if getting married to you is crazy, then let me be crazy. Because nothing would make me happier.”

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything.”

“Make sure you act surprised tomorrow at the restaurant,” he chuckled. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but everyone’s gonna be at Piccolo’s tomorrow expecting a proposal. They don’t have to know it’s gonna be a replay.”

“Nick, you suck at lying.” 

“But I’m great at make-believe,” he grinned. “And tomorrow I’m gonna be Nick from this morning. The nervous wreck that wanted today to be perfect.”

“Well, regardless if tomorrow doesn’t go well, today you gave me the best present in the world,” she smiled as she set a soft kiss on his lips.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, fiancé.”

“Kind of like the sound of that,” he chuckled. “Nick Miller, fiancé.”

“I’d like husband a lot more,” (Y/N) smiled back. “And it’d be a Christmas miracle if you can pull off tomorrow. Again, you are terrible at lying.” 

“But terrific at make-believe,” they chorused before laughing.

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