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fragilefable · 1 year ago

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nobody's son, nobody's daughter.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ minors DNI) Summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs. Warnings: heavy angst, canon typical violence, character death (sarah), discussions of grief, very brief mention of suicidal ideation, alcohol used to cope, depression, suggestive language, lovers reunited, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Word Count: 6.6k Currently Playing: Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey ♪

A/N: This piece has been months in the making, hours of rereading and rewriting. This is my love child. I'm possibly (definitely) planning a part 2 with smut... ;) I am a full-time college student who unfortunately has other responsibilities, so please be patient with me. My first lengthy piece in a while, so please be kind & enjoy my doves!

Sleep was the most convenient temporary escape available in the post-cordyceps world. Oftentimes, if you were lucky enough, with sleep came dreams—glimpses of a divine, utopian life. One without spores or fungi of any kind. There was, however, always the chance that with it came nightmares—Polaroids of the past, the uprising of the infection. Mothers clutching bloodied children, decaying men ripping open flesh with their savage teeth, and, worst of all— losing Joel Miller.

Joel was... everything—neighbor, friend, lover. Joel hated that word— laughed every time it managed to escape your lips in a hushed whisper, but that was what you were to each other. It transcended explanation. You'd moved to Austin after college in hopes of starting over, a clean slate. Instead, you'd stumbled upon a single father and his then 11-year-old daughter. You fit into their life like the missing puzzle piece— you completed them. Sarah needed a motherly presence in her life. There was only so much Joel could do for the blossoming young woman.

And Joel— Joel never knew what he was missing until you came along. Someone to be able to rely on, to love unconditionally, a fixed constant. To say he fell head over heels was an understatement, but it became so much more than physical attraction. It became something far more profound and terrifying— love. The kind of love only poets write about. It was fierce, at times agonizing. That's what made losing him all the more heartbreaking.

You were with Sarah the night of the outbreak— Joel's birthday. Lounging around in plaid pajamas, waiting for Joel to get home from work. Despite being exhausted, Sarah was beaming with pride over her birthday present for her dad— his broken wristwatch now repaired and refurbished. You smiled mischievously, "And just where did you get the money to fix this, young lady?" Sarah grinned slyly, "Just lyin' around, it's not like he noticed it was missin'!" Hours passed, you and Sarah slumped against the couch: Fast asleep, soft snores escaping mouths, drool dribbling down chins.

The sight made Joel's heart quaver in his chest. Kicking off his muddied work boots, he carefully plopped down in between the two sleeping figures, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. "Hmm. You're home," you stirred awake, drowsy eyes met with a welcome sight: Weathered tan skin and dark chocolate curls. "Hey, Darlin'. You outta head up to bed. I'll be up soon." You nodded faintly, planting a chaste kiss on Sarah's forehead: "Goodnight, sweet girl."

You fell fast asleep as soon as your body hit Joel's mattress, his scent engulfing you like a blanket of safety— a shield of sorts. The vague smell of sawdust and pine soap conquered your senses, a heavenly combination. An hour later, you felt the bed dip down, strong arms circling your waist.

Frantic hands shook you awake, calling your name weakly: "I can't find Dad. N' somethin' weird is goin' on outside." You sat up, Sarah's urgency pulling you from your hazy half-asleep state. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll call him. Go back to bed." Sarah ignored your suggestion and sat beside you as you reached for the landline. The call went to voicemail without hesitation: "Huh... That's weird."

Sarah grew more anxious by the second, "I'm gonna go check the driveway for his truck." Sarah shot up from the bed, feet pattering down the stairs. "Sarah! Wait, I'll come with-" Throwing on your Converse, you hastily ran out after her. Your tired eyes scanned the pavement but found no signs of Sarah or Joel's truck. The Adler's door was wide open; you huffed: "Sarah?"

The Adler's house was pitch black and eerily quiet, the family's dog nowhere to be seen: "Sarah? This is trespassing!" Tiptoeing through the living room, you halted at the sight of a ruby trail— blood. Grotesque, wet noises filled the previously silent house: "Sarah?" The teen bolted out of the kitchen, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door: "Run!" Mrs. Adler scrambled after Sarah, mouth dribbling crimson liquid, no longer bound to her wheelchair.

"What the fuck–" Sarah's grip on your hand tightened as you passed through the door and stumbled onto the pavement. A pair of familiar brown eyes scanned Sarah's figure and then yours: "Sarah? Darlin'? Are ya'll ok-" Joel's words were cut off when Mrs. Adler dashed through the front door, her figure lunging for you.

Joel struck the side of her head with a wrench as you made a feeble attempt to crawl away. His strikes were lethal, and yet the elder kept thrashing against the ground. "Joel, stop!" Only then did you notice Tommy, Joel's younger brother, behind you, coaxing Sarah into the truck.

Joel exhausted Mrs. Adler with one final swing, dropping the bloodied wrench beside him and wiping his shaky hands on his jeans. His gaze softened when he saw your timid frame— shaking and unmoving. "Darlin'... Baby, are you okay?" His hands found your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on a patch of exposed skin. You hesitated; Joel had just killed Mrs. Adler in cold blood— but she tried to kill you and Sarah first.

Joel hurriedly hoisted you to your feet, "We gotta go, okay baby? It's not safe here." You clambered into the backseat beside Sarah, the girl's arms thrown around you tightly. Kissing the crown of her head, you reassured her: "It's okay, sweetheart, everything's okay."

Neighbors began to exit their homes, baffled and disturbed by the sight of Mrs. Adler's bloody, lifeless body lying in the yard. Someone called out for Joel. He immediately instructed her to go back inside and lock the doors. Tommy beckoned Joel into the car, exiting the culdesac and taking off towards the highway. After a fleeting moment, you mustered up the courage to ask, "Joel, what's going on?" Tommy replied, "They're sayin' it's a virus- some kinda parasite." Sarah spoke up, tears forming, "Are we sick?" Joel shot the idea down immediately.

Tommy and Joel continued bickering, your eyes glued to the road ahead: "Joel! Look- It's Jimmy's place." The two-story farmhouse was completely engulfed in flames, unrecognizable. Your hands clung to Sarah, burrowing her head into your neck: "It's okay, sweet girl." Police sirens rang out through the darkness, interrupted by soft pleas for help. A family was stranded on the side of the road, begging for aid. Tommy began to slow the car. "What're you doin'?" Joel firmly questioned. Tommy shot back, "Got a kid, Joel."

"So do we. Keep drivin'," Joel spat. Tommy sped back up, eyes searching Joel's for an explanation: "Somebody else will come along." As Tommy approached the interstate, the sounds of disgruntled drivers grew louder: "Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this." Joel gripped the dashboard, "All right, all right. Let's think it through," he paused for a moment, "All right, take the field! We cut across, and we pick up on the west side." Tommy steered right, the truck jerking on the uneven terrain. As he drove over the hill, helicopters and tanks came into view, "Shit. Fuckin' army."

Sarah peered out from behind the seat, "Isn't that good?" Your voice was filled with hesitation, "That's the highway we need to get to." Joel and Tommy argued, eventually continuing toward a town just east of the highway. Sarah stilled, "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go." A booming roar erupted, Tommy twisting his body to get a better look at the night sky: "What the fuck?!" Commercial airplanes flew overhead, merely hundreds of feet above the ground. You instinctively covered Sarah's ears with your hands, eyes wrenching shut at the deafening rumble of their engines. Tommy swerved to avoid a police blockade ahead, turning into a nearby alleyway.

The streets were flooded with screaming civilians, running in every direction— no one sure who exactly they were running from. A hoard of people fled from inside a movie theater, causing Tommy to shift the truck's gear into reverse. "Dad?" Sarah called out, "Dad!" Joel turned; an airplane was rapidly descending— heading straight towards town, "Shit. Move!" As the plane made contact with the ground, a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke bloomed, causing Tommy to lose control of the truck.

A strong hand shook your leg, "Darlin'? Stay right there, don't move." Your side ached, cool liquid flowing from your head. Beside you, Sarah quickly came to, her eyes shifting to the figure hunched outside of the flipped car, clawing at the corpse of an older man. "Sarah, baby, don't look. C'mere, put your arms around me." As Joel carefully unearthed Sarah from the mangled truck, you climbed out of the shattered window: Hissing as you shifted against your arm. Sarah tried to put weight on her leg, provoking muffled whimpers and cries at the attempt. Tommy, equipped with his shotgun, called out, "We gotta get off the street!"

As you approached Joel and Sarah, a flaming police car crashed into the capsized truck, separating the three of you from Tommy. Tommy roared from the other side of the wreck: "Meet at the river! I'll find a way." Joel turned to Sarah, "Can you run?" She shook her head wearily. He scooped her into his arms, "Keep your eyes on me." Joel shifted towards you, "No matter what, you keep runnin'. Alright, darlin'? Promise me." You hesitated, desperate eyes meeting his, "I promise."

The three of you stumbled through the alley until you came across a cluster of bodies scattered across the pavement, crouched figures grunting over the lifeless figures. The end of the passage was clear. The only problem was getting past the rotted creatures without being noticed. There was no way Joel could outrun them in his condition. One of the creatures shot up at the sound of a remote blast, eyes landing on Joel. His voice was firm, "Go." You grabbed his arm, "Joel!" He repeated his command, louder— frantic: "You can't carry Sarah w'that arm. Go find Tommy. We'll meet you there."

You pressed a hurried kiss to Sarah's head, the deranged man scrambling to his feet before you could embrace Joel. You took off towards the other end of the alley, Joel and Sarah barricading themselves inside the vacant diner across from the pile of carcasses. Your body throbbed with every step, head burning with the fire of a thousand suns. Your feet carried you across town, weaving in and out of injured civilians and infected until you reached the river. The stream was pitch black, sounds of gunfire and cries rang out in the distance.

Suddenly, a bright light blinded you: "Put your hands where I can see 'em!" You obeyed, raising them as high as your injured arm would allow. Your voice raw with distress, "M'not sick! Just trying to find my family!" The man stepped closer, seemingly inspecting your physical state. He was clad in military gear, "You hurt?" You shook your head eagerly: "Just a sprained arm." He nodded his head, "Alright. We've got buses that can take you to a decontamination zone."

Your head scanned the vast field, eyes scouring for any sign of Joel or Tommy: "I- I can't. I'm supposed to meet someone here. At the river." The soldier looked dissatisfied and slowly lifted his gun, "The river goes on for miles. S'not safe out here." Your eyebrows threaded together in confusion, "What- are you- are you gonna shoot me?" The soldier's grasp on his automatic rifle tightened, "I'm sayin' you have two choices. You can either come with me or you can-"

A guttural scream sounded from behind him. But before he could turn around, a pair of arms seized his neck and began ripping into his military garb. The soldier flailed wildly at his attacker. While he was busy fighting off the deranged beast, you took off into the darkness, wandering aimlessly and calling out for your family. That night was the last time you saw Joel Miller.

16 Years Later

The bitter winter air overwhelmed your senses until you were gasping for air, limbs numb and cold to the touch. You wouldn't make it much longer without shelter, without warmth. You'd spent the better part of the last 16 years searching for him— for Joel. Ever since that night, you'd scoured every independent civilization, every QZ, within mobs of infected. Each night, you silently prayed never to find him like that— skin pallid and overcome with fungus, head split wide open, cordyceps blooming from within.

You'd trekked across the country with the sole intent of finding him alive and healthy. The journey was brutal— raiders and infected desperate for blood. But by far, the hardest battle was pushing away the nagging thought that, even if Joel and Sarah were somehow alive, you'd never find them. Now, after nearly two decades of searching, you were reaching the end of your journey. You'd officially trekked across the entire nation. If your estimations were correct, you were nearing Wyoming— hence the formidable cold front.

You'd heard rumors about a small civilization located somewhere on the skirts of Jackson County— your last stop. You knew the chances were slim; that feeling only fortified with each city, each civilian who hadn't heard of or seen anyone by the name of "Joel Miller." But you kept searching— because the day that you stopped would be the day you lost everything, lost yourself. It was as though he held onto you with a leash. If you tugged hard enough, could you finally break free? What else did you have to live for? Maybe one day you'd have some sort of epiphany, something to make sense of all the death and suffering. For now, Joel kept your hope alive— the hope that there was happiness and safety beyond all of the pain. The very thought of him kept you alive.

You stood in front of thick and rusted iron gates, your posture crooked due to exhaustion— Just one more stop. The sounds of cocking guns drew your attention to the top of the gates. A young man and woman stand there, rifles pointed at you: "Drop your weapon! Let us see your hands!" You obey. This is standard practice amongst civilizations— you'd done it a thousand times by now. Unsheathing and kicking away your pistol, you then throw your backpack towards the gate. Hands raised next to your head. Your voice wavers as you half-shout, "I'm not infected! Just looking for someone!"

The woman searched your face for a bit, presumably looking for any signs of deceit. She nodded towards her companion, the corroded metal walls unfolding. Two men approached you and picked up your discarded belongings. The younger of the two roughly patted you down and checked for bite marks. When they were satisfied, they led you past the gates into the town square. The village was pleasant, a handful of people milling about in the slushy streets.

A familiar voice erupts from behind you: "Please excuse the initial hostility. We need to be careful about who we let in... I'm Maria." She extends her hand. You accept it gingerly and introduce yourself. "Welcome to Jackson. You must be freezing. Come on, we'll talk inside." — Maria leads you inside a small building, the exterior reminding you of the Lincoln Logs you used to play with as a child. The inside is... quaint. A lone desk sits near the lit fireplace. Maria leans against the desk and motions for you to take a seat: "So... You're lookin' for someone. And you have reason to believe they're here?"

You sigh, allowing your aching body to relax against the couch's plush cushions: "No... I am looking for someone, but... Well, this is my last stop." Maria nods sympathetically, tucking a lone braid behind her ear— "I get it. You've been looking for a long time. It's about time to stop. To rest." You can't help the tears that form on your waterline. Your gaze shifts to your lap. Maria continues, "Who are you lookin' for?"

You swallow the fist-sized lump in your throat, "Joel. Joel Miller." Your attention snaps towards her as a wistful sigh escapes her lips. A tight frown dawns on Maria's face, "I'm sorry. There's no Joel Miller here." You nod; you knew it was a long shot, but hearing it aloud was something different entirely. You rise from the couch, "Thank you. I apologize for takin' up your time." Maria speaks up before you can reach the door: "Now what? You got a place to stay?"

You honestly hadn't thought that far, about life beyond looking. For years, finding Joel was your only purpose— your rationale for remaining on this infested hellscape. You had no home, no roots. Maria's voice interrupts your thoughts, "There's room here. We've got food and water— shelter. Hell, we're even working on electricity." You turn to face her. Her words dripping with verity, "Jackson could be your home."

Despite having just met her, Maria's words touched something buried deep within you— hope. Hopeful of a new life, of new beginnings. You forged a small smile, "Okay." Maria smiled, but it was much different from yours: It was toothy, genuine— "Alright. I'll give you the grand tour then." For the next hour or so, Maria marched you around town. She showed you the vast dining hall laden with maple furniture. The stables filled with mare and their young.

Then she showed you the schoolhouse. It was a small brick building. The walls were filled with colorful crayon drawings. Tiny handprints were pressed onto the wall in various colors of acrylic paint. The dulcet sounds of innocent laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Children from the ages of 5-12 were scattered around: Some doing arts and crafts, some reading, and others playing with worn toys. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before Maria could notice.

You couldn't help but think of Sarah. About the first time she knocked on your door— she was selling chocolate bars for some fundraiser at school. Her bronze complexion dappled with freckles, and her wide smile revealed a missing tooth. She was eleven at the time, eyes bright and full of wonder. Blind to the atrocities that loomed at every turn. Sometimes, you'd think about what she looked like now— did her curls still rest atop her shoulders? Did she still laugh until she was panting for air? She's thirty now... Has she fallen in love? That was considering she is still...

You didn't entertain the thought. Sarah was fine, alive somewhere with her father to look after her. Maria's touch pulls you from your thoughts, "How about I show you where you'll be living? Get you settled in." As Maria exited the schoolhouse, you stole one last glance at the room. A little girl met your gaze. Her dark curls were pulled into two ponytails. Her burnt mahogany eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, raising her tiny hand and waving it at you. You returned the sentiment, this time allowing the tear to fall down and onto the ground.

Maria escorted you just outside of town, to a street lined with country-style two-story houses in relatively good condition. "This one here, the green one. It's already furnished. I'll have one of my guys come by later with some essentials from the pantry. Otherwise, you should be all set 'til tomorrow." Your eyes bore into the house. It was nice, but also... "It's big," you retort, "Don't know what I could possibly need all those rooms for." Maria lays the silver key in your hand, "You never know."

You internally cringe at the connotation. Start over with some man? Have a big family and a white picket fence? You couldn't. It wouldn't be the same. You let out a shaky breath, "Thank you, Maria." She nods, "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll talk about where to go from here. Everyone in Jackson has a job, a role to play. Rest up... You deserve it." She departs, leaving just you and your great, big, empty house.

3 Years Later

Jackson developed rapidly under Maria's supervision. The population rose from 50 to roughly 300 in just under three years. Jackson now had electricity, thanks to the Jackson County Hydroelectric Dam that Maria's team was able to get up and running. You'd become the head of patrol— in charge of organizing the schedules and determining the routes. You and Maria had become very close, practically family. She's the person who understood you, what you've been through.

In an attempt to busy yourself and earn your keep, you'd thrown yourself into working alongside her. Not just with patrols but also with community relations and development. You'd completely reconstructed the greenhouse, built a jailhouse— that, luckily, wasn't used much— and helped fortify Jackson's defenses. Maria assigned you the title "community leader," but you much preferred what everyone else called you: "Maria's right hand."

Your house was still too big, but now it felt homier— lived in. The walls were plastered with botanical paintings you'd found while out on patrol, vases of fresh cut flowers from the community garden placed upon every surface. Cable knit blankets were draped over the shabby leather furniture, the brick fireplace emanating warmth and bringing solace during the cold winter months. You'd even taken up baking in your spare time, frequently bringing baked goods to the schoolhouse.

Nevertheless, when the sun set and the sounds of bustling downtown Jackson faded, your thoughts always returned to Joel. His bronze skin, tousled brown curls, and perfectly plump lips. Suddenly, it felt as though the house was mocking you, and the right side of the bed always grew colder. Perhaps it's why you worked yourself so hard; taking a day off was seldom. You couldn't escape the persistent feeling that Joel and Sarah weren't alive. That you'd failed to find them time and time again because somewhere, they were six feet under, buried in an unmarked grave. All it takes is one moment— one lapse between heartbeats— and suddenly, everything has changed.

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The spring air was crisp with morning dew. A gentle breeze slipped through the cracked bay window. Three heavy thuds woke you— the sharp knocks cutting through serene silence. Your voice was raspy with sleep, "Coming!" You quickly pulled on the worn terrycloth robe that hung from the bedpost and stumbled downstairs. You swung the door open to reveal Stanley, a young man who worked in construction: "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Maria sent me to get you. She said it's urgent."

You sighed deeply, rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your face: "Urgent like, 'don't get dressed' urgent?" Stanley's eyes roamed across the dark fabric of your robe before snapping back to your face. His cheeks bright pink, "Oh, um... no! Just meet her in her office ASAP." Sending him off with a nod, you traipsed upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making your way downtown. It was early morning, the streets empty save the early risers milling about, getting ready for work. As you passed a group of older women sipping hot beverages, you overheard whispers of "an outsider." As Maria's righthand, you were expected to greet all incoming arrivals. How on earth that could constitute a crisis, you did not know.

As you approached Maria's office, the woman in question exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her. You grew closer, taking note of her fidgeting hands. She was... nervous? "Good morning, Mar. What's the emergency?" Maria's face was sullen. You'd never seen her like this, not in the three years you'd known her. Your hands clenched at your sides, "Maria? What is it?"

She took a deep breath, "This may be a false alarm, but... This guy's last name is Miller. Says he's originally from Texas." Her words stole the air from your lungs, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. She said something else, but all you could hear was buzzing. Your vision blurred, the dark-skinned woman's features coming in and out of focus. Could it be him—had Joel finally found you?

Maria called your name, pulling you from your trance. As your vision focused, you pushed past her. Your grip on the doorknob was bone-crushing, your knuckles turning white from the tension. You inhaled— don't get your hopes up. It might not be him. You exhaled, pushing the door open with a startling amount of force. You analyzed the man's figure, you recognized him— only it wasn't Joel. It wasn't the Miller whose calloused hands once traveled the expanse of your body, making note of each hidden crevice as though it may hold treasure. Whose lips once seared white hot kisses in the places he knew were the most sensitive— "Tommy?"

He looked dumbstruck, his lips parted in shock. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck. It took him a moment to reciprocate your embrace, but once he did, his arms anchored you in place. He spoke your name quietly against the crown of your head: "I can't... I can't believe it." You pulled away, "I hardly can either." His hands rested atop your shoulders as his eyes searched your face in disbelief. His resemblance to his older brother felt like a gut punch. You were afraid to ask— fearful of the truth: "Joel? Is he..."

Tommy's hand squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, "He's alive. Last I checked, holed up somewhere in the Boston QZ." A warm tear slipped down your face, the salty liquid resting just below your chin. You'd checked Boston QZ, but recent "terrorist" attacks had made it impossible to stay longer than an hour without drawing the attention of every FEDRA soldier in that godforsaken city. Your hands trembled as you clutched your chest, "And Sarah? How's my sweet girl?"

Tommy's face went cold— No. No. She can't— "She's gone." The taste of bile rose in your throat, "Wh-when?" Tommy removed his hands from your shoulders, "That night. Shot by some military fucker. She..." He hesitated, "Joel held her. It happened s'fast." Your kneels buckled, threatening to send you towards the ground. You fucked up— you let yourself get accustomed to the idea of her being alive. Repeated it over and over again until you believed it to be true. This was all your fault.

Your shoulders shook silently, as if you were crying— but no tears emerged, "I have to… I have to find Joel." Turning toward the door, Tommy caught you by your wrist: "I can't let you do that, hon. It's a damn death sentence." You tugged at your arm, desperate to break free from the restraint: "Let go of me, Tommy. I'm doin' this." Maria stepped forward, her hand resting at the base of your neck— "No, you're not. Jackson needs you here. I need you here."

Your breathing became labored. Deep down, you knew they were right— you were in no shape to travel across the country again. You'd barely survived it the first time. Chest heaving, your free hand found purchase on your throat, tightly grasping and constricting the airway. Tommy wearily let go of your wrist, his eyes wide and filled with fear. You ran for the door; you could hear Tommy call out for you as you fled homeward. Sarah was gone. Joel was alone.

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Days passed, and despite everything, the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. You weren't quite sure how long it had been. You'd stopped counting daybreak after the first five came and went. Maria checked in after the first couple of days, worried that you hadn't been seen around town— or leaving your house, for that matter. Your grief was debilitating, all-consuming. You couldn't eat, could barely sleep, only finding relief at the bottom of a liquor bottle. You were tired… The kind of tired that sleep didn't fix.

Tommy came once. Sat and talked while you stared straight ahead at the empty wall. He could sense your anger, your resentment. How could he not? You silently judged him for leaving Joel, leaving his brother after his only daughter died in his arms. Tommy told you that Joel had changed. He wasn't the Joel you fell in love with; he'd done terrible things— But so had you. You'd killed innocent people, people who were just trying to protect themselves. And you did it in the name of finding Joel and Sarah, of surviving for them. You'd convinced yourself it was kill or be killed, and you had to live with that. Come judgment day, you'd pay greatly for your sins. You accepted that, too.

You only dared to look at Tommy's face once. You saw Joel in his eyes— you saw Sarah. Maybe if you hadn't left Joel in that alleyway, she'd still be alive. You could've protected her, taken the bullet for her. You would have, without hesitation. You'd cross the fiery pits of hell for her, reside in Caina, and be tortured for eternity. You may not have given birth to her, but Sarah was your daughter.

If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could faintly picture her smile. The dimples that formed just below her bottom lip. You could smell the faint aroma of her strawberry shampoo. Hear the broken remnants of her grandiose laughter. You swore to keep those memories someplace safe. Take them out and remember when you needed to, as if they were photographs.

A part of you wanted to be happy that she didn't suffer. She was too innocent for this new, heartless world. She was everything good in life. She was sunshine, sugary syrup, and pure, unadulterated love. But you could not accept this bright side. Not when it meant a life without her in it. Innocence is beautiful, but life is for living.

Tommy stood up, slipping a piece of paper on the nightstand. You cautiously turned it over to reveal a creased photo: You, Joel, and Sarah posing after winning one of her soccer games. You stole one last glance at Tommy. This time, he did not see blinding hatred in your gaze. Instead, he saw gratitude. As your glassy eyes bore into him, he nodded knowingly and left.

Maria came a couple of hours later with leftovers from the dining hall. Setting them on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottles displayed like pathetic trophies. You were in the same position as when Tommy left. You held the photo in your hands, thumbs stroking its frayed edges. Maria quietly dragged a chair closer to the bed, sitting just within arm's reach: "I went to a really dark place after I lost Kevin."

Tearing your gaze from the picture, one of her hands finds yours: "He made life worth living… It took me a long time to start to feel human again. To feel something other than pain and sorrow. The grief never goes away. But slowly, it starts to feel less like loss, and more like love." She inhaled shakily, "I know what you're feeling right now. I know why you're drowning your sorrows in that shit, trying to drink yourself to death." A tear slips down your face, her hand squeezing yours gently: "But you have to understand… What you're feeling right now, that's love. You're not a bad person for how you try to kill your sadness. But it's not gonna work."

You're unable to contain the choked sob that escapes your throat. The tears come harshly, scorching saline against your skin. Maria shifts her weight from the chair onto the bed, holding your shaking frame: "It's okay… Let it out." Her hands cradle your head, smoothing over your disheveled hair. "It's all my fault," you gasp between sobs, "I never should've left them. It's all my fault." Maria shushes you, "No, honey. You don't really believe that. You want someone to blame, but you're not that person."

Eventually, the tears cease. Your breathing evened out as Maria held you, "I miss Joel, so fucking much." You could feel Maria nod tenderly, "I know Honey." A lone tear slipped down your cheek, "Do you think— do you think he'll find me?" Maria pulled away, her chestnut eyes meeting yours, "Truthfully, I don't know." With a deep sigh, she squeezed your hand— "But I know he wouldn't want you to live like this. Isolating yourself from everyone else. You're allowed to grieve, but please don't shut me out. You're my person." You clutch her hands, squeezing firmly: "Even at my worst?" Her arms curled around your torso once again, "Even at your worst."

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The warmer seasons passed with haste. A wintertide blanket of white gradually covered Jackson. Day by day, Maria and Tommy were able to pull you out of your depressive stupor. You had to admit, they made quite the team. Maria was ultimately right, Joel wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life a bedridden drunkard. But still, life without him was arduous. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think of Joel Miller. About where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he missed you as terribly as you did him.

As much as you wished to focus on these melancholic thoughts, new developments began to bloom in Jackson. Tommy and Maria's blossoming love was hard to ignore and impossible to disapprove of. Watching two people whom you adored fall in love, it felt as though nothing had changed: No cordyceps, no raiders, just Jackson and all of its inhabitants. Perhaps you could find peace in that. When Maria told you that they were expecting, you were over the moon. Maria and Tommy deserved it, Jackson deserved it. Proof that the world is not over— that no matter the circumstances, mankind will prevail.

You threw together a small wedding ceremony with the help of the florist and local bakery, the couple wanting to tie the knot before the baby's arrival. Joking about how "shotgun weddings" withstood the test of time. Something arose in you, a pang of jealousy— Envious that you and Joel never got the perfect white wedding. It disgusted you, so you buried it deep within the recesses of your heart.

The winter was hard, the Wyoming chill threatening every crop that dared to sprout from the Earth. This resulted in you spending extra time in the greenhouse. You found gardening to be a rather soothing task, being able to nurture new life in a world marked by death and decay. It also provided plenty of time to think: Something that you did not relish. No matter how many times you pushed the thought of Joel away, it always returned. Whether it was at dawn or late at night plaguing your dreams.

When you weren't at Tommy and Maria's house or at the Tipsy Bison, you were in the greenhouse. The small shack sat right on the outskirts of town, situated with the perfect view of downtown Jackson. The glass panes shut out the cold, trapping any warmth inside. You bathed in the basking glow of the sun, gravitating towards it as a Sunflower would. You weren't sure when thoughts of Sarah became joyous, memories no longer met with choked cries but instead with soft chuckles. Nonetheless, you welcomed the growth. It's how she would want you to remember her.

You watched the clock that hung just above the door, a mere estimation of the time: 12:15 p.m. You carefully removed your dirt-caked gloves, setting them on the wooden bench beside you. Your stomach growled impatiently as you began the journey downtown. The air was frigid despite the sun's rays, the cold slowly numbing your fingers. As you ambled towards town, Stanley came jogging towards you: "Hey! Just got word from the gates that Maria's back. Brought some stragglers, two, I think."

You nodded in his direction, "Alright. Thanks, Stan." The soft crunch of snow beneath your feet accompanied you as you approached downtown Jackson, an air of excitement and uncertainty radiating off of the townsfolk. It wasn't every day that Jackson came across people who weren't just blood-thirsty raiders looking for valuables. As you rounded a corner, you overheard a commotion, the sound of yelling. Strangely, it didn't sound angry or fearful. It sounded... happy.

Midtown came into view; the construction that was being worked on was now abandoned. Immediately, your gaze fixed on two figures in the middle of the street embracing. That was... not typical. You could make one man out to be Tommy; his black curls contrasted starkly against his warm taupe skin. The other was taller and broader, his hair disheveled and graying. Behind them you could make out Maria on horseback, next to her was a young girl, who couldn't be older than thirteen.

Maria's expression was borderline unreadable, a mixture of trepidation and relief. Until her eyes met yours, then her face softened. A look of tenderness emerged. Everything about this situation puzzled you— Until the two figures broke apart. The man stood inches from Tommy, his hands gripping Tommy's shoulders firmly. His face was sunken with exhaustion and hunger; a vast smile overtook his face. A smile you would recognize anywhere.

He looked just as he had twenty years ago, only now his hair was significantly longer and his beard gray. His face was now littered with wrinkles, just as yours was. A telltale sign that time had, in fact, passed, that the world fell apart right in front of your eyes. Your fingers dug into your thigh. You surely would've drawn blood if not for the layer of denim protecting your skin. You knew you were grieving, but hallucinations seemed extreme. You took a hesitant step forward, still on the opposite end of the street.

Maria beckoned for you. Your name seemingly catching Tommy's attention as he turned towards you. As the men stood side-by-side, it was impossible to deny. Their likeness evoked something in you— realization. You weren't dreaming, you weren't hallucinating. He was there, just a yard away: Joel Miller. His gaze found yours, eyes searching your face in disbelief. Your name left his mouth like a question, but it sounded like a prayer.

He stepped forward as if he was testing the waters. You repeated his action, "Joel?" A smile broke across his face once again, causing you to break into a sprint. He jogged forward, careful not to slip on the icy gravel. Tears began streaming down your face, their warmth countering the icy chill. Before you could slow down, your body collided with his. His arms were tense, his hold fastening around you. You'd only dreamt of this moment for two decades.

You weren't sure how long you stood like that. Head nestled firmly against his chest, tears staining his leather coat. His gloved fingers gently grasped your chin, pulling your face from its sanctuary: "Baby... Fuck, I can't believe it." His eyes searched your face for any sign of unease. He could find nothing but pure joy: "You found me. I searched for you, Joel Miller, for 16 years. And you found me."

Joel let out a breathy chuckle, cut off as you captured his lips in a velvety kiss. At first, it was chaste.— A silent admission of consolation, twenty years in the making. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, prompting him to groan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. After a moment, a loud cough erupted from behind you. You reluctantly pull away, your forehead resting against his. Your hands cupped his cheeks, eyes glassy with relief and adoration: "After all this time?" Joel leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, "Would wait forever f'you, Darlin'."

divider by @saradika

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #fragilefable #ೃ༄ wren writes

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gmikaelson · 2 months ago

Text

Masterpiece | K.M

Masterlist

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A/N: Soooo, everyone is going to pretend I posted this yesterday...right?

My attempt at a fluffy one shot. But angsty in the beginning. Happy belated Valentine’s Day!

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Klaus has had the textbook definition of a terrible day. He came home irritated and short-tempered, exploding on anyone who spoke to him—even you

As he stormed through the courtyard, you came down the stairs, “Klauuss~” you say in a cheery tone, “your back! I was thinking we could—“ you were immediately cut off by his sharp tone and cutting words, flinching slightly

"Not now, Y/N!" His voice booms through the courtyard, making a nearby vase rattle. Dark veins begin to appear beneath his eyes as his control slips "I'm not in the mood for your cheerfulness. I've spent the entire day dealing with incompetent fools who can't follow simple instructions, and the last thing I need is-"

He stops abruptly, catching the slight flinch in your movement. Something in his expression shifts, a flash of regret crossing his features before it's quickly masked by his usual stoic facade. He runs a hand through his disheveled dirty blonde hair, taking a deliberate step back

"I apologize, love. But I need to be alone right now. Before I do something I'll regret." His accent thickens with emotion as he speaks, each word carefully measured

Without waiting for a response, he turns and storms up the stairs toward his art studio, the sound of his boots echoing against the floors.

You sigh, deciding to let him be for once.

The moon hangs high in the night sky as Klaus finally emerges from his studio, paint staining his hands and clothes. He finds you curled up on the sofa in the library, a book forgotten in your lap as you doze. The sight of you immediately softens his hardened expression

Moving silently across the room, Klaus kneels before you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. The movement causes your eyes to flutter open

"I've been a right bastard today, haven't I, love?" His voice is soft, tinged with remorse "I shouldn't have spoken to you that way."

"Mhm, you shouldn't" you mumble, turning around and facing the sofa instead

Klaus lets out a small, frustrated sigh at your dismissive response. He moves to sit on the edge of the sofa, his hand hovering over your shoulder

"Come now, my dear, don't be like that," his British accent lilts with a mixture of guilt and gentle persuasion "I know I was horrible earlier, and you have every right to be cross with me. But I'd rather not have you angry with me all night."

He leans closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers "I painted you today, you know. Spent hours trying to capture the exact shade of your eyes. Though I must say, even after a thousand years of practice, I still can't do them justice."

When Y/N remains stubbornly turned away, Klaus's voice takes on a more pleading tone "Y/N, love, look at me. Please?"

The 'please' comes out slightly strained - Klaus Mikaelson isn't used to begging for anything, but for you, he's willing to swallow his pride

You sigh, turning your head slightly, "what?"

Klaus's eyes soften as they meet yours, though your still clearly upset with him. He reaches out to trace his fingers along your jawline, but stops himself, knowing he hasn't earned back that right yet

"I'm sorry," he says, the words coming out with genuine remorse "I let my temper get the best of me, and you didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of it. You were merely trying to brighten my day, as you always do, and I responded like a complete arse."

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that betrays his usually confident demeanor

"I know I can be... difficult, love. But you're the last person I ever want to hurt. You're the light in all this darkness, Y/N, and I acted like a fool today."

His voice drops lower, more vulnerable "Tell me what I can do to make it right. I'll do anything"

You turn back to face him, pouting, "I was really excited for you to come home today, Klaus."

Klaus's face falls at your words, genuine guilt washing over his features. He reaches out, this time allowing his fingers to gently brush against your cheek

"I know, my love," his voice is soft, filled with regret "And I ruined it completely, didn't I? You deserve better than to be greeted with my foul mood and sharp tongue."

He shifts closer, his eyes searching yours, "Tell me what you had planned, dear. What was my beautiful girl so excited about?"

His thumb traces your pouting lower lip as you contemplate telling him, a gesture both apologetic and affectionate

"Perhaps it's not too late to salvage what's left of the day? I promise to be on my absolute best behavior," he adds with a slight smirk, though his eyes remain earnest "Though I know that's not saying much"

You smile slightly at his attempt to fix things. you open your mouth to say something but first, your eyes go to the clock in the corner before trailing back to him. Slowly, you shake your head, "nevermind it's too late now." you sit up, "It's okay. Really"

Klaus's expression darkens slightly, not with anger but with self-directed frustration. He knows you well enough to hear the disappointment beneath your words

"No, it's not okay," he says firmly, reaching out to catch your hand before you can fully pull away "And don't do that, love - don't dismiss your feelings to spare mine. I can see it in those beautiful eyes of yours that whatever you had planned meant something to you."

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles

"Tell me what I ruined, Y/N. Please? Even if it's too late now, I want to know what I missed because of my bloody temper." His blue eyes hold yours intently, filled with both regret and determination

"Fine,” you say in defeat, "since it's Valentine's Day, there was this cute little event where they give you flower pots that you get to paint, and then you get to choose a flower to plant in the pot. I just thought it was the cutest idea ever. Davina showed me the ones she and Kol made, and I was kinda hoping we could too, but...it's fine. Really. no big deal." I lean in and kiss his cheek, "I'm just glad you're feeling better now"

Klaus's face falls completely, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. The realization that he not only ruined your plans but forgot Valentine's Day entirely hits him like a physical blow

"Bloody hell," he mutters, closing his eyes briefly "Valentine's Day. Of course it is."

When he opens his eyes again, they're filled with determination. He stands suddenly, pulling you up with him

"Get your coat, love."

"Klaus, I told you it's fine—"

"It's not fine," he interrupts firmly "I refuse to let Valentine's Day end with my beautiful girl settling for 'fine.' I've been alive for over a thousand years, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that there's always a way." His signature smirk appears "Even if we have to... persuade someone to reopen the event just for us."

"Klaus..." you say softly as he cups your face in his hands

"You wanted to paint flower pots with me, my dear, and paint flower pots we shall. Even if I have to compel half of New Orleans to make it happen."

His expression softens "Besides, I rather like the idea of creating something with you. Even if it's just a simple flower pot."

You smile, "Klaus, no, you know how much I don't like you compelling people for me." You kiss the inside of his palm, "while it's too late for the event, it's not too late for us to go out and enjoy the night. Let's just go out and do something, yeah?"

Klaus's eyes light up at your suggestion, a fond smile playing on his lips as you kiss his palm. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist

"Ever the moral compass, aren't you, love?" he murmurs affectionately "Very well, no compelling tonight. Though I must say, your kindness continues to both baffle and enchant me."

"Yeah? So that's a yes?"

He brushes his lips against your forehead "Allow me fifteen minutes to make myself presentable, and then I'll take you somewhere special. Perhaps we can't paint flower pots, but I refuse to let this day end without properly celebrating it with you."

He steps back, but not before bringing your hand to his lips once more "Wear something warm, dear. And perhaps that necklace I gave you last week? The one that matches your eyes so perfectly?"

Nodding, you lean in to kiss his cheek. Klaus turns his head, meeting your lips, holding you in place as he kisses you deeply. He releases you, letting go as you turn away, flustered.

He watches you leave with a soft expression that's reserved only for you, before quickly pulling out his phone. His fingers move rapidly across the screen as he sends out several messages. If he can't give you the Valentine's Day you originally wanted, he'll make damn sure to give you something even better

Fifteen minutes later, Klaus stands in the courtyard, freshly changed into a dark henley and his signature necklaces. He's holding something behind his back as he waits for you

The sound of heels clicking against the stairs draws his attention upward, and his breath catches slightly at the sight of you. The necklace he gave you gleams against her skin, complementing your natural beauty

"Stunning as always, my love," he says, his accent thick with admiration "Though I must say, you make everything else pale in comparison."

"Thank you. Whatcha got there?"

He reveals what he's been hiding - a bouquet of deep red roses "I know it's not quite the same as planting flowers together, but I hope these might be a start to making up for my earlier behavior."

Your smile widens as you take the flowers from him, "Klaus...you didn't have to. Seriously," but your smile gives you away

Klaus's eyes crinkle with genuine pleasure at your obvious delight, despite her protests

"Oh, but I did, love," he steps closer, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear "If only to see that beautiful smile of yours. Besides," his voice takes on a playful tone "I'm Klaus Mikaelson. When have I ever done anything because I 'had to'?"

You place the bouquet on one of the chairs, making a mental note to put it in a vase when you get back.

Klaus offers his arm to you in a gentlemanly gesture "Now then, shall we? I believe I promised you a special evening, and I intend to deliver."

His eyes sparkle with mischief and something else - a softness that only you get to see "Though I must warn you, love, I may have arranged a few surprises. Nothing involving compulsion, I assure you," he adds quickly with a knowing smirk "Just a few... favors called in."

"Somehow that worries me more," you say, rolling your eyes

Klaus chuckles at your comment, leading you toward the compound's exit

"Now, now, sweetheart. Where's your sense of adventure?" he teases, pressing a kiss to your temple "Trust me, just this once?"

"Always"

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As you walk through the French Quarter, Klaus keeps you entertained with stories of past Valentines throughout history, particularly focusing on the more amusing disasters he'd witnessed. His real goal, however, is to keep you distracted from noticing the subtle movements of people entering and exiting the compound behind you

"You know," he says, guiding you toward Rousseau's "I was actually present for the very first Valentine's Day celebration. However, I must say, it was significantly less romantic than the modern version. Quite a bit more bloodshed involved, actually."

"Every day I am reminded just how old you are," but Klaus was too busy to be offended by your joke

He glances at his phone briefly, checking a message before quickly tucking it away "How about a drink first, love? I hear they've created a special cocktail just for tonight."

You shake your head, "They always seem to have a 'special cocktail, don't they?"

Klaus laughs, a genuine sound that echoes in the night air

"Touché, my dear," he guides you into the bar, his hand resting possessively on your lower back "Though I must say, watching you get tipsy is always an entertaining affair. You become even more delightfully sarcastic, if that's possible."

He pulls out a chair for you at the bar, then takes the seat beside you, keeping you close

"Besides," he leans in, his breath tickling your ear and causing you to squirm, "I rather enjoy how affectionate you become after a few drinks. The way you curl into my side, how your clever little comments become even more brazen..."

You giggle, "I thought after last time, you'd never let me drink again," you tease, bringing up the time Klaus had to carry you out of the bar.

"You're right. Perhaps we should keep it to just one drink tonight," he says with a knowing smirk "I have other plans for us, and I'd like you fully aware to appreciate them."

"Buzzkill" You grumble with a smile before Camille comes to take your drinks

"Hey, Cami!" You say cheerfully, hugging her over the bar.

Klaus tenses slightly at Cami's appearance, his hand instinctively moving to rest on your thigh - a subtle possessive gesture. Despite their friendship, old habits die hard, and Klaus's jealous nature never truly rests

"Ghayda! Klaus!" Cami greets with a knowing smile, catching Klaus's protective gesture "Happy Valentine's Day! What can I get for you two?"

Before you can order, Klaus interjects, "The special for my love here, and bourbon for me." His thumb traces small circles on your thigh as he speaks

Cami gives Klaus a subtle nod - she's clearly in on whatever he's planning - before turning to prepare your drinks

"Buzzkill, am I?" Klaus murmurs in your ear, his accent thickening "I assure you, love, there are many other ways I plan to intoxicate you tonight."

"Yes" you giggle, "buzz kill and apparently corny too." you turn your body on your stool to face him, crossing one leg over the other noting the way his eyes darken slightly. His gaze trailed over your crossed legs before meeting your teasing expression

"Corny?" he raises an eyebrow, leaning closer "I'll have you know, love, I learned from Shakespeare himself. Though," his hand slides slightly higher on your thigh "perhaps you'd prefer me to be less... poetic?"

His voice drops to a whisper that only you can hear "I could tell you exactly what I plan to do to you later instead. In explicit detail. Would that be less corny for you, my dear?"

Cami returns with your drinks, and Klaus reluctantly pulls back, checking his phone once more

"Perfect timing," he mutters under his breath before raising his glass towards you "To my beautiful girl, who somehow manages to both humble and embolden me with every passing day."

You raise your own with a smile. Sipping your drink, "You know, I didn't expect you to care about Valentine's Day. Though you'd experienced too many of them."

Klaus watches you over the rim of his glass, a thoughtful expression crossing his face

"You're right, love. I've seen countless Valentine's Days come and go," his free hand finds yours, fingers intertwining "But I've never had one worth celebrating before you."

He takes another sip of his bourbon, eyes never leaving yours. "A thousand years of existence, and yet somehow, you make everything feel new again. Even these ridiculous human traditions."

"Ridiculous? That's why you're trying too hard to make it up to me?"

His phone buzzes again, and a satisfied smirk crosses his face.

"Speaking of making it up," he stands, offering his hand "I believe it's time for us to move on to the next part of our evening. Unless," his smirk widens "you'd rather stay here and listen to more of my 'corny' declarations?"

You down your drink, "No, wait, I love this song." You take his hand and stand up, "Dance with me?"

Klaus's expression softens, though there's a flicker of impatience in his eyes as he checks the time. However, one look at your hopeful expression melts any resistance

"How could I possibly deny you anything when you look at me like that?" he pulls you close, one hand settling on your waist while the other holds yours.

As you sway to the music, Klaus can't help but lean down to whisper into your ear, "You're making it incredibly difficult to stick to my carefully laid plans, darling. But then again," his grip tightens slightly, "you've always had a way of making me lose control of everything I thought I had perfectly arranged."

"Arranged? I thought you'd forgotten?" you tease, swaying along to the music

He spins you once, pulling your back against his chest "I did forget, initially," he admits, pressing a soft kiss to your neck "But did you really think I'd let my oversight stand? I am nothing if not resourceful, love. And the past hour has been... productive."

He spins you again, this time bringing you face-to-face with him

"Besides," his eyes gleam with mischief "I have a reputation to maintain. Can't have people thinking Klaus Mikaelson can't give his girl a proper Valentine's Day, now can we?"

His phone buzzes yet again, and this time he actually growls slightly in frustration

"What's wrong?"

"As much as I'm enjoying having you in my arms, sweetheart, we really should be going."

"See? Told you you're a buzzkill," You tease but reluctantly step back, "okay, let's go"

Klaus narrows his eyes playfully at your teasing, suddenly pulling you back flush against him

"A buzzkill, am I?" his voice drops to that dangerous, seductive tone that he knows affects you "We'll see if you still think that in about..." he checks his watch. "Twenty minutes."

He leaves an impressive tip, guiding you out of Rousseau's, his hand never leaving your waist. As you walk back toward the compound, Klaus seems increasingly antsy, checking his phone repeatedly

"Close your eyes, love," he instructs as you approach the compound's entrance

When you hesitate, he adds with a smirk, "Come now, love. Humor your 'buzzkill' of a boyfriend. I promise it'll be worth it."

"Okay, okay," you say with a smile before closing your eyes, grabbing his arm for stability, "last time someone told me to close my eyes, a snake was placed on me."

Klaus tenses at the mention of Kol's prank, a flash of anger crossing his features

"Ah yes, I remember. Kol spent the next week daggered for that little stunt," his voice carries a dangerous edge before softening as he guides you carefully "I assure you, love, no reptiles await you this time. Though perhaps I should dagger him again, just for good measure..."

He leads you through the courtyard, positioning you exactly where he wants you

"Keep those beautiful eyes closed for just a moment longer, love," his voice is soft with anticipation "And no peeking. I know how curious you get."

There's a rustle of movement around you, and the sound of several people quietly exiting

"Alright, my love," his hands rest on your shoulders from behind, his breath warm against your ear "Open them."

You gasp as you see the sight before you, "What the... Klaus" You whisper, "What's all this?" You ask, a grin slowly creeping its way onto your face as you turn to him

The courtyard has been transformed. Hundreds of twinkling lights hang from above, creating a starlit effect. Dozens of flower pots of various sizes are arranged on tables, already prepped for painting, with an array of paints and brushes laid out. In the center sits an elegant table set for two, complete with champagne and covered dishes. Rose petals are scattered everywhere, and soft music plays in the background.

Klaus's expression softens completely at your reaction, a rare genuine smile gracing his features

"This, my love," he cups your face gently "is me trying to give you both the evening you planned and the one you deserve. You wanted to paint flower pots? Well, now we have an entire collection to decorate. Though I must admit," he gestures to the romantic setting "I may have added a few touches of my own."

"Klaus," you say his name so softly, leaning into his touch

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes searching yours

"I know I ruined your original plans with my temper, but I hoped perhaps..." he trails off, showing a rare moment of uncertainty "Well, I hoped this might make up for it. Even the great Klaus Mikaelson can admit when he's been an absolute fool."

He pulls you closer, pressing his forehead against yours "Happy Valentine's Day, my beautiful girl."

"Happy Valentine's Day." You wrap your arms around his neck, "I love you, Klaus"

Klaus's breath catches slightly at your words - even after all this time, hearing you say 'I love you' affects him deeply. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer

"And I love you, Y/N," his voice is thick with emotion, "More than I ever thought possible. More than I probably should."

He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, one hand coming up to trace your cheek

"You know," his signature smirk returns, though his eyes remain soft "I had this whole evening perfectly planned out - dinner first, then painting, then dancing under the lights. But seeing you look at me like that..." he leans in, his lips barely brushing yours "makes me want to skip straight to dessert."

You tilt your head back, giggling, "Absolutely not." You poke a finger into his chest, "You went through quite a bit of trouble arranging all this, so perhaps we should at least attempt to follow the schedule?"

You pull his hand excitedly, "let's go!"

Klaus chuckles at your enthusiasm, allowing you to pull him along

"Eager to paint, are we?" he guides you to the table with the flower pots, pulls out a chair for you, and then sits beside you, immediately reaching for your hand

"Choose your pot, darling. Though," his eyes glint mischievously "I should mention that whatever we create tonight will be displayed prominently in the compound. I've already informed my siblings they're not allowed to mock our artistic endeavors, on pain of daggering."

He leans closer, his breath tickling your ear "And yes, before you scold me, I know that's a bit extreme. But I refuse to let anyone diminish something you put your heart into."

You roll your eyes, "Stop including yourself. You know I'm the only one here with shitty artistic abilities" You nudge his shoulder with yours before tying your hair back, "Can we eat while we paint?" you ask, eager to start.

Klaus's eyes follow the movement of your neck as you tie your hair back, momentarily distracted

"Of course, love," he recovers, reaching to uncover the dishes "Though I must disagree about your artistic abilities. Everything you do has its own charm." He smirks "Even if it's not quite up to my thousand years of experience."

He pours you each a glass of champagne, then watches as you select your pot

"Besides," he continues, selecting his own pot "I rather enjoy watching you concentrate. The way you bite your lip when you're focused, how your nose scrunches up when you're not satisfied with something..." he reaches over to tap your nose playfully "It's utterly adorable."

He picks up a brush, dipping it in paint "Now then, shall we see what masterpieces we can create while trying not to spill food on them?"

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The evening unfolds beautifully, with Klaus and You painting flower pots between bites of gourmet food and sips of champagne. Klaus can't help but steal glances at you throughout the night, enchanted by your concentrated expression and delighted giggles when the paint goes astray. Despite his initial temper earlier in the day, the night transforms into something magical

You both end up with two distinctly different pots - Klaus's displaying intricate designs and professional technique, while yours shows...heartfelt effort and creativity. True to his word, Klaus ensures both are given places of honor in the compound

You looked at Klaus's perfect pot, furrowing your brows. You tilted your head as you looked at my own pot, "Klaus. Be honest. Are my lines wonky?”

Klaus bites his lip, trying desperately to maintain a straight face as he looks at your adorably uneven creation

"Well, love..." he starts diplomatically, wrapping an arm around your waist "I would say they're not so much 'wonky' as they are...uniquely positioned. Besides," he presses a kiss to your temple "straight lines are overrated. Yours has character."

"that's a yes" you groan, running a hand down your face

Klaus can't quite contain his amused smile as you continue to scrutinize your work with such serious concentration

"Though I must say," he murmurs in your ear "watching you furrow your brows like that is making it incredibly difficult to focus on pottery critiques. Perhaps we should move on to the next part of the evening?"

His hand slides lower on your waist "Unless you'd like to continue analyzing your artistic technique, of course."

“Mmm, I'm not done. Give me your hand” I say, putting my own hand out, “palm up”

Klaus raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your request. He places his hand in yours, palm up

"Should I be concerned, love?" he asks with amusement, watching you carefully "The last time someone asked for my hand like this, they were attempting to curse me. Though," his eyes sparkle with mischief, "I doubt your intentions are quite so nefarious."

Klaus is unable to hide his fond smile at how serious she looks

"Shh, don't distract me," you say, taking a brush and painting all over his palm, “just wait”

Klaus watches with uncharacteristic patience, fighting the urge to move as the cool paint tickles his palm. His gaze remained on your face, eyes softening as he watched you concentrate, resisting the urge to curl his fingers, letting you continue her mysterious artwork

"Should I be preparing myself for a masterpiece or another one of your... uniquely positioned designs, love?"

“You talk too much” you mumble, placing the brush down. You do the same on your own palm but with a different color.

“Okay, place your hand right here” You point to a spot on your pot

Klaus follows your instruction, pressing his painted palm against her pot where indicated, a curious smile playing on his lips

"As you command, my dear," he says softly. As he takes his hand off, you place yours, slightly overlapping his.

When both hands were pulled away, two handprints appear on the pot - one larger, one smaller, creating a surprisingly sweet design

"Ah," Klaus's expression softens completely, understanding dawning in his eyes "Now that, love, is actually rather clever."

"is it?" you ask hopefully with a smile

He looks at your combined handprints, something warm settling in his chest at the sight of your marks together

"It is. Perhaps I was too quick to judge your artistic abilities," he murmurs, pulling you closer with his clean hand "This might be my favorite piece of art in the entire compound."

“Aha!” you point a painted finger at him, “so you were judging my abilities”

Klaus's eyes widen slightly at being caught, before a mischievous grin spreads across his face

"Well, love," he catches your painted finger in his hand "In my defense, your earlier attempts at straight lines were rather..." he pauses, searching for a diplomatic word "distinctive."

Before you can protest, he pulls you closer, deliberately getting paint on you dress

"Though I must say," his voice drops to that seductive tone "watching you catch me in a lie is incredibly attractive. Perhaps I should let you win more often?"

He brings your painted finger to his lips, pressing a kiss to it "Then again, where would be the fun in that?"

As revenge, you press your hand into his shirt, fighting back a giggle.

Klaus's eyes darken playfully as he looks down at the handprint now decorating his henley

"Now that," his voice drops dangerously low "was a declaration of war, my dear."

In one swift movement, he grabs a paintbrush, a predatory gleam in his eyes

"You seem to have forgotten, love, that I'm quite skilled with a brush," he stalks toward you as you back away "And I have centuries of experience in hunting down my prey."

His smirk widens as he corners you against a pillar "Any last words before I exact my revenge?"

“Maybe that…you love me? Try remembering that. and that I love you....so much,” you say, eyes on the brush

Klaus's predatory expression falters for a moment, softening at her words before his signature smirk returns

"Oh, I do love you, my dear," he presses closer "Which is precisely why I know you'll forgive me for this..."

In one quick movement, he swipes the paintbrush across your cheek, leaving a streak of color

"Klaus!"

"There," he murmurs, admiring his handiwork "Now you truly are a work of art."

His free hand comes up to cup your other cheek "Though I must say, you're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, even covered in paint."

He leans in closer, his lips barely brushing yours "Perhaps I should add a few more touches? Make you a proper masterpiece?"

“Yeah? Watch this” you whisper before turning your head and smudging your cheeks together, transferring the paint.

Klaus freezes for a split second as your cheeks press together, the cool paint smearing across his skin. A deep, rumbling laugh escapes him—a rare, unfiltered sound of pure amusement that echoes through the courtyard. His hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him despite the mess

"Cheeky little minx, aren't you?" He tilts his head, admiring the matching paint streaks now on both your faces "I should’ve known you’d find a way to weaponize affection. Quite the strategic move, love."

His thumb brushes over the paint on your cheek, smudging it further as his gaze softens "Though I must admit, you wear chaos spectacularly. It’s almost a shame to wash this off."

Before she can respond, he dashes to the paint, dipping his fingers and swirling them dramatically "But if we’re making masterpieces..." he flashes back, dragging a streak of gold down your neck, following the curve of your collarbone with deliberate slowness, earning a gasp "...let’s commit to the theme, shall we?"

"Won't things get...messy?

His laughter fades into a heated whisper as his lips hover near yours "Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll clean every brushstroke off you later... thoroughly."

The courtyard erupts into playful chaos as paint begins flying everywhere. Your laughter echoes through the compound as you chase each other, leaving colorful handprints and streaks on clothes, skin, and occasionally the walls. Klaus, despite his usual composed demeanor, finds himself completely caught up in the childish fun, his clothes, and skin now a canvas of multiple colors

The romantic dinner and careful decorations become collateral damage in the paint war, but neither seems to care. At some point, Kol appears at the balcony to investigate the commotion, only to quickly retreat when Klaus threatens him with a paint-covered brush

The evening ends with both of them...well, you, breathless from laughter, covered head to toe in various colors of paint. The courtyard looks like an abstract expressionist painting exploded, both of your flower pots forgotten amidst the beautiful disaster you've created

Klaus pulls you close, both of you a mess, and whispers against your lips "Perhaps we should continue this in the shower, love?"

“Is that you admitting defeat?"

Klaus's eyes narrow playfully, his painted fingers tightening on your waist

"Klaus Mikaelson never admits defeat, love," he growls softly against your ear "I'm merely suggesting we move this battle to a more... private venue.

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper "Unless you'd prefer to continue our war here? Though I should warn you, darling, my next tactics might not be suitable for public viewing."

You swat his shoulder, "1...2...3...race you!" you yell, running to the stairs. Absolutely futile but completely fun

"Oh, love," he calls out, letting you get a head start just to make it interesting "Racing a vampire? Particularly one as old as me? That's rather bold of you."

He vamp-speeds up the stairs, appearing in front of you with a triumphant smirk, causing her to scream

"Though I must admit," he catches you as you crash into his chest "watching you try is absolutely adorable."

He lifts her you, throwing you over his shoulder, "Klaus!" you scream, unable to stop laughing

"Now then," his eyes darken with desire as he pats your thighs, "shall we discuss the terms of your surrender? Or would you prefer another futile attempt at escape?"

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The evening winds down peacefully, with Klaus and Y/N cleaning up and changing into fresh clothes. They spend the rest of the night curled up together in their room, Klaus sketching while Y/N reads, occasionally exchanging soft kisses and quiet conversations

Their painted flower pots dry on the balcony, including their special handprint creation which Klaus insists will have a permanent place in their room. Despite the chaos and the mess, the Valentine's Day that started roughly ends perfectly - just the two of them, content in each other's company

As Y/N drifts off to sleep in his arms, Klaus watches her with tender affection, thinking about how a thousand years of existence led him to this moment, with this remarkable woman who changed everything for him

The courtyard’s chaos remains untouched come morning. Rebekah scoffs at the mess, Kol places bets on how long until they’re at each other’s throats again, and Elijah quietly orders a cleaning crew. But in your room, Klaus sleeps—actually sleeps—your hand fisted in his still-damp curls. Victory, he’d learn, tastes sweeter in surrender.

The compound may be a mess of paint, but Klaus wouldn't change a single moment of their evening together.

𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚

Taglist: @ariesandwolves

#klaus mikaelson #the originals #tvdu #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikealson fanfiction #the vampire diaries #klaus edit #niklaus mikaelson #valentines day

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ivystoryweaver · 2 months ago

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Cosmic - Poe Dameron

Episode 4: It Came From Outer Space previous

Cosmic Masterlist | Poe Dameron Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Summary: Quality time and a day at the fall festival with Poe, who doesn't really get the point of a ferris wheel. Oh and your ex is there.

Content/Notes: fluff, tw food, language

Word Count: 3.2k

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"That everything?" Poe asked, securing the final basket in the back of your truck. Heaps of fresh organic produce, homemade jellies, herbs and eggs from your chickens were loaded and ready for your little farm's booth at the fair.

The warmish weather had finally eased into a crisp, cool morning, invigorating your fall spirit and giving you a boost of energy needed to peddle your wares.

Poe, dressed in his boots, jeans and a flannel button up of your dads - a dark green and navy plaid over a white t-shirt - gazed at you expectantly, hands on his hips.

"I think so," you answered, granting him a bright smile. "Thank you so much for doing this. It would have been a lot with Chester away in New Jersey. I've never done it by myself." Your thoughts briefly drifted to your father. This was only your second year without him at the festival.

"Glad I can help," he grinned, pushing a hand through his curls.

Since you'd bought him hair products and toiletries, he'd attempted new styles with gel and hairspray, usually preferring his hair off his face. Today it seemed he didn't bother, remarking how his hair had grown longer than ever, and beyond his control.

You offered to cut it for him soon, after the festival was behind you.

Right then, your cat Cheddar darted out of the barn, with Marigold and Kit Kat hot on his trail. Your three barn cats had added themselves to the long list of animals who instantly loved Poe. Cheddar had almost convinced the both of you that he was truly a house cat who needed to sleep in Poe's room at night, rather than out in the barn with his siblings. Almost.

Curling around Poe's legs adoringly, Cheddar meowed, waiting for attention, which Poe was more than willing to give.

"Heyyyy, little buddy, came to say goodbye? Don't worry, I'll be back."

Kneeling down, he granted some attention to Marigold, while Kit Kat hissed in jealous protest.

"All right, you guys, go back to catching things. We have to go." You playfully rubbed each of their heads before gently shooing them away.

It was then that you noticed Poe eyeing you with about as much fondness as Cheddar had displayed. It caught you off guard for a moment, until he held up the truck's key and dangled it in front of you.

"Can I drive?"

"Give me those," you laughed, yanking them out of his hand and bumping shoulders with him as you headed for the driver's side.

"Come onnn, please," he whined, following you closely.

You reached for the truck's door, but he pushed his arm up against it to stop you, trapping you there against the side of the truck, with his arm caging you in. Noticing how close your bodies were, he lowered his arm slowly, licking his lips as your eyes locked with his.

"Sorry." He backed away to give you some space, noticing how your breath stuttered and your eyelashes fluttered. "I'm the best pilot in our fleet, I swear. I can definitely handle a truck."

"Wow," you whistled, pulling open the truck door finally, but Poe noticed you still had a playful glint in your eye. "You actually insulted my truck while bragging. Well done. Passenger's seat for you."

He groaned, but complied, leaving it alone while you cranked the truck and backed it away from the house. Stopping at the end of your long driveway, you peered over at him.

"I know you can drive my truck. It took you like half a day to get what usually takes us regular people a few months to learn. It's just that you don't have a license and we cannot have any questions asked about who you are and where you're from. You understand, right?"

Poe swallowed, nodding, noting how serious you were. "Sorry. I just thought it would be fun. I didn't realize..."

"It's okay," you smiled warmly. "I just...I get nervous thinking about if someone found out. I mean, Poe, to think of what could happen to you..."

"Is it really that dangerous here? In the United States?" He asked, as you eased onto the main road and started driving.

"It could be. It really could. We are in a kind of war right now. A cold war. No one's firing, but it's tense. And if they find out you're from space, they'll never let you go. We have to keep it a secret no matter what. Let's go over our cover story again."

So you spent the drive into town reviewing the story you'd concocted. Poe had come to work on your farm temporarily, as a replacement for Chester, who was with his ill mom in New Jersey. Simple enough. For now, the story would be that Chester gave a friend of a friend-type recommendation. You would loop Chester in on the plan ASAP, when he wasn't preoccupied with helping his mom.

Poe would be called Joe, which sounded a little more run-of-the-mill Earthy, and would be from Florida. The next step was to somehow get him some convincing documents without drawing attention from the wrong people.

This story should be easy enough to maintain. If someone were to question you about Poe's past, you could simply claim to not know, since you truly met him so recently.

Something heavy settled in your stomach as you drove toward the first public outing with this man who fell to earth.

"Look, I'm sorry about the driving thing," he offered, once you'd double checked your story together. "I know we have to be careful. I promise I won't get you in any trouble."

Glancing over at him, you realized this must all be frightening to him, or at least alarming. "It's okay. You must be bored out of your mind on the farm." Pulling into a parking space in the grassy field outside the fair's entrance, you turned to face him. "You don't have to stay in the booth with me all day. You should ride some rides. They're fast. Probably not as fast as an X-wing, but...could be fun."

"Okay. Only if you ride with me."

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To absolutely no one's surprise, Poe was a perfect addition to your booth. Chester was a great help when he was around, but he was more of a behind the scenes worker.

Poe was a people person, charming customers, introducing himself as Joe, as instructed, and making them feel at ease. With the way he was able to add a dozen farm fresh eggs or a jar of your jelly to each order, you were certain he could probably persuade anyone to do anything.

"You know, maybe I should go ride rides, since you've almost sold all the eggs before lunch," you teased during the briefest lull in customers.

Dark eyes went wide until he realized you were messing with him. "Oh...I thought I was doing it wrong for a second."

"No, please. The sooner we sell out, the sooner we can pack up and the less we have to carry home. Be my guest," you grinned, folding your arms over your chest. "Exactly how many dangerous situations have you charmed your way out of?"

Poe laughed, pushing his fingers through his curls again. "Way too many, Trix. You have no idea."

"Oh shit," you whispered, ducking behind the corner of your booth, frantically waving Poe over to join you.

"What's wrong?" He whispered, conspiratorially huddling with you. "Is it someone from the government?"

Shit, you probably scared him. "No. Sorry, no, it's just my ex."

He gazed into your eyes. "Your ex...boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

"Ex asshole," you failed to clarify, groaning as you realized it was too late. You'd been spotted.

"Heyyyy, it's my favorite organic farmer," your ex boomed, embarrassingly loudly, as he was often prone to do. At one time, you had adored his exuberance and bold personality.

"Hey there," Poe interjected, "what can I help you find today? We have homemade jelly."

Your ex made a sour face at you and hitched his thumb at your new, shorter friend. "Who's this guy?"

"Joe," Poe responded, thrusting his hand between you and your ex for a handshake. "Just started at the farm a few weeks ago, while Chester's away. So what can we get you?"

Ignoring Poe, your ex stared at you, waiting for your attention. Fighting a smile, you returned his rudeness and instead turned to Poe. "I think you've got this covered, so I'm gonna unbox a few more things."

"Take your time. We're good here." Poe sent you off with a wink.

Your heart raced as you darted around the side of your tent, so thankful for the embarrassing situation that didn't just happen. It wasn't that you couldn't take care of yourself, or handle your ex. Hell, you were the one who dumped him. You simply weren't in the mood for his loud mouth and embarrassing antics, especially if he tried to give Poe the third degree for simply existing in the same space as you.

Wondering, for a second, if you felt managed by Poe, or dismissed, you sighed in relief, realizing that his reaction was spot on, and just what you needed. He minimized someone who loved to make everything about himself. He kept the focus on your booth and your products, allowing you to get to tasks that needed your attention.

To be seen and understood so effortlessly felt really good.

Another hour passed before the two of you took a break for lunch, closing your booth for about twenty minutes to sit near the back and munch on some ridiculously fried fair food you insisted Poe try.

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By mid afternoon, you'd sold out of everything except a few greens, but Poe was determined, continuing to sell while you started packing up.

As the sun set, your booth was empty and cleared, leaving the two of you free to enjoy the festivities.

"Thank you so much for today," you sweetly said, bumping shoulders as you walked along rows of various carnival style games. "This is the most successful year I've ever had."

"Happy to help," He smiled over at you, "with getting rid of produce...or ex-boyfriends."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry about that," you chuckled. "I appreciate it though. I was not in the mood to talk to him, believe me."

Poe focused his eyes ahead, enjoying the music drifting through the air, the smell of what you called popcorn and brightly colored balloons. "I thought it would be good practice for getting rid of unwanted attention," he shrugged. Waiting a bit, he added, "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

You let out a long sigh, prompting Poe to say, "sorry."

"No, it's okay," you assured him. "We had some good times. He helped out, you know...when my father got sick. But I found out he was going to propose. And then I found out why he wanted to propose."

Poe groaned, "Don't say he wanted your farm."

"Bingo," you remarked, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. "I mean, really, is this 1881 or 1981? He was after my land?"

"I guess there are worse reasons to marry. But I see your point," Poe conceded. "Was he good to you?" He flinched. "Is that okay to ask?"

"He was until he wasn't," you confessed. "Kind of ruined the whole, benevolent 'help my father' thing when I caught him with another woman."

Poe whistled. "Okay, now I have to kick his ass."

That made you laugh. "He's not worth it. Come on, let's ride the ferris wheel."

Less that ten minutes later, you and Poe sat side-by-side in the bucket seat...of the world's slowest ride, apparently.

"What does this thing do?" he questioned. "It's really slow. And goes in a circle. Is that fun in Iowa?"

You burst out laughing, swatting him on the arm. "It's peaceful and kind of magical because it goes up high and you can see the town." You explained this as your gondola climbed to the ferris wheel's highest point.

Poe nodded, taking a moment to enjoy the highest vantage point he'd seen in weeks, since his ship crashed here. Normally, he was used to being up in the air on a daily basis, so this was nothing too special. Until he glanced over and noticed your eyes shining as you gazed out across the festival and surrounding, rural fields.

Peering over the edge, you remarked how high up you were, bouncing with excitement before looking back at Poe, eyes bright and filled with wonder.

"You're right about the view," he said softly, eyes never leaving your face as the ferris wheel slowly brought you back down to earth.

Next you dragged him to a mini roller coaster, promising it would go at least somewhat faster. Hands gripping the safety rails, you squealed in delight as Poe grinned, enjoying the ride almost as much as he loved riding full speed on your horse Annabelle a week ago.

"I'll take you flying someday. Somehow," he promised. You appreciated the gesture, but your heart burned at the faraway look in his eyes. It sobered you to remember, again, that he needed to find a way to get out of here eventually.

"I'll probably embarrass myself and scream or get sick, but I would love to see you in action."

As soon as the words left your mouth, your face heated up. And he noticed.

Leaning closer his eyes dropped to your lips before he smiled knowingly, nodding behind you. "You want to see me in action, let's go."

Brushing past you, he left you a bit speechless until you realized he intended to play a shooting game. With perfect precision, he used rubber darts and a plastic gun to take aim at, and perfectly eliminate yellow duckies in a row, earning some oohs and ahhs from interested onlookers, and the game's attendant.

"Best shootin' I've seen all day, son. Pick a prize from the top row there." The older gentleman pointed up to the row of ridiculously oversized stuffed animals.

Poe grinned at you. "Which one?"

"You won it," you giggled. "You pick."

He chose a gigantic plush lizard.

"For you." He presented it with a dramatic flare.

"Wowww, this is...this is really something. Thank you." You laughed in spite of the weird but oddly cute offering.

"Well you have lots of animals at home, so I thought you might like something different," he explained as you headed for the cotton candy tent. "Besides, all the animals here are really...hairy." He squeezed the giant lizard. "This guy looks more like my galaxy."

"I love it then," you decided. "What should we call him?"

"Toe Dameron," he teased, a twinkle in his brown eyes. "That way, you'll think of me when you hug him."

For the first time in a while, you enjoyed a good belly laugh. "I don't need a giant lizard named Toe to think about you, but okay."

Poe carried Toe Dameron around while you bought some cotton candy, which intrigued him immensely. He gobbled it up quickly, which let both of you know he was actually hungry. So next up was the pizza stand, of which Poe was definitely a fan, polishing off three slices while you sat at a small table with Toe Dameron on the ground beside you.

"A picture for the lovely couple?" A photographer asked, appearing beside your table, with his camera at the ready.

"Uhh, not a couple, and no, actually, it's okay." You waved him off. Digging into your pocket, you gave him a small tip. "Thanks anyway."

"What was that?" Poe asked through a mouthful of pizza.

"Nothing, he just wanted to take our picture - like the ones in my hall, you know? A photograph?"

Poe nodded, polishing off his meal.

"But, even though I would love to have a picture with you, I just think it could be dangerous. Better to keep a low profile."

"Right, good thinking." Glancing around, the idea that he was an unwelcome guest on planet Earth seemed to sober him. "You're sure it's safe to be here?"

"Yes, it's fine," you assured him.

Hoping to cheer him up, you took him to a very spinny, very fast ride that he loved. But as soon as it ended, you both realized what a terrible idea it was to ride the spinning ride after eating a ton of pizza.

"Ready to go?"

Poe was gazing past you again, as he'd been doing all day, his interest piqued by every different or similar thing to his home galaxy.

This time, his ears perked up at the sound of live music and his eyes gazed at couples dancing on a makeshift dance floor.

"Come on," he urged, taking you by the hand. "Dance with me."

"Oh...okay," you smiled at his exuberance. Poe was so full of life, so interested in every little thing.

Swallowing down any trepidation you felt about making a fool of yourself on the dance floor, you eased into an embrace with him, swaying to a medium tempo song, getting used to the feel of one another.

The song cadenced and the beat kicked off a lively tune, which delighted Poe. He took the lead, guiding you through steps that were probably not of this world, but seemed to make sense. He certainly had a good sense of rhythm and was no stranger to dancing.

You slightly stumbled once, but he steadied you with his palm spread across your back. "Just follow me, I've got you." He smiled brilliantly, giving you a twirl and guiding you around to his opposite side, before somehow doing the same thing in reverse. You weren't sure how he managed it, but it was fun and you found yourself laughing and relaxing all the way through the end of the song.

The music slowed into a couples' dance, so you stepped back to give Poe an out, but he held out his hand. "One more?"

You smiled sweetly at him in spite of yourself, taking his hand as he pulled you close, somehow still keeping time even with the slow tempo.

"Is this okay?" He breathed against your cheek, arm cinching you closer even as he asked permission.

"Yeah...it's okay. You're a good dancer," you breathlessly whispered on his ear. "Which isn't surprising. You're good at everything."

"Thank you," he granted you a sincere reply, which you appreciated. "We danced a lot growing up. Not exactly like this but...anyway."

Easing back, you gazed at him questioningly. "What is it?"

He gently smiled, eyes fixing on yours. "Nothing. I just...I haven't had a day like this in years. A day off, to have fun and dance and eat and laugh." He sighed, peering up at the night sky. "I think this is one of the best days I've ever had."

"Really?" You gasped, surprised and touched, honestly.

"Yeah," he nodded, eyes finding yours again. "Really. I think maybe Iowa is a special place."

That made you laugh.

"Or maybe it's because you're here." His arms wrapped all the way around you now, palm pressing along the curve of your back.

You reached up to push a stray curl out of his eyes. "Bet you say that on every planet you land on."

"Maybe, maybe not. But there's definitely only one Trix."

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thanks to @silvernight-m for the names-that-rhyme-with-Poe exchange and @reallyrallyauthor for pointing out that many animals in Star Wars world are reptilian

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#poe dameron #star wars #poe dameron x reader #cosmic fic #poe dameron x earth!reader #tw food #star wars sequels #star wars fanfiction #star wars au #poevember

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whorekneecentral · 1 year ago

Text

Merry Ruff-Mas

Mick Schumacher x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angie loves trouble, angie also runs away from home, panicked mick, queen corinna cameo, snow storms, kind strangers but also stranger danger cause wtf lmao, mentions of death, finger sucking, rushed sex, dom!mick for a second there, praise kink, choking, creampie, penetrative sex (p in v), gina's a bit sus of mick at the end.

Word Count: 2,257

Author's Note: it's not a mick fic without miss angie so of course this one had to be based around her.

merry smutmas series

Angie goes missing the day before Christmas and Mick finds her at the neighbouring ranch, wrapped up with ribbon and bows.

Mick had headed to the stables and Angie followed close behind him as he double checked to make sure that everything was in place for the night.

Angie follows Mick make foot to foot, she was his little furry shadow.

So when he didn't hear her little pants and her paws patting on the concrete, he just assumed she ran back to the house. He locks the doors to the stable and finds his way back to the house, do you know who sat on the couch watching TV when Mick came in.

"Where's Angie?" He asks, about to take off his boots. Gina glances over her shoulder at her brother. "What do you mean where's Angie? Didn't she go to the stables with you?"

"Yeah," Mick says, looking around. "I thought she ran back here."

"No," Gina shakes her head, "she's not in here. It's just me, unless she ran up to mom and dad's room."

Mick goes running down the hallway to his parents' room. "Is Angie in here?" He sticks his head in and his mother looks up from her book.

"No sweetheart, she's not."

It finally hit him that she's outside somewhere, in the freezing cold. Before Gina could ask him where he's going, he goes running out the house. He shouts her name, tumbling through the snow. There's a giant flashlight in hand as he makes his way around the property, following a trail left behind by her bouncing in the snow.

Mick finds himself at the edge of the Schumacher ranch, squeezing through the hole in the fence and onto the neighbouring property.

A few more feet and he sees a light in the not so far distance; a house with the lights on.

The least he can do is ask, right? There was no harm in that.

A knock on the door, Mick brushes the snow off his coat as he waits, hands shoved in his pocket. A young woman opens the door, smiling at him. "Hi." She says, a warm smile on her face, a thick blanket tossed wrapped around her shoulders.

"Hi," Mick can't help the smile on his face, momentarily forgetting why he was at her door. "I uh.. I was looking for my dog, Angie. She ran off."

"Oh," you say, "you're in luck, I found a sweet puppy on my porch not too long ago." You pat your leg a few times, the puppy running from around the corner.

The man at your door dropped down onto his knees, raw dog jumping on the man; clearly they knew each other.

"I take it this is Angie?" you asked, the man nods, smiling at you as Angie runs back into the house.

"C'mere Angie!" He calls after her but she ignores him, returning to the spot she had previously occupied.

You laughed, looking out into the snow to see your car in the driveway and nothing else. "Did you.. walk here?"

"Yeah."

"I can give you a ride back if you'd like?"

"Oh you don't need to do that," the man smiles, and you shrug. "It's the least I can do, plus Angie seems to have made herself comfortable." She had curled up by the fireplace and fallen asleep.

You stepped to the side, a gust of cold breeze hitting you. "Why don't you come in for some tea or something? I'll give you two a ride home when the wind dies down."

"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude."

"Oh please, I'm inviting you in." You nod towards the hallway and who was Mick to deny such a pretty lady ?

He steps in, leaving his wet boots and coat by the front door before following you to the kitchen. Mick looks around as he trailed behind you, the house decorated like something out of a movie; big tree by the fireplace, garland and lights wrapped in every spot it could be, even the throw pillows on the couch were Christmas themed.

"Tea or coffee?" You asked, breaking his thought. "Oh uh.. tea please." He leans on the counter, watching as you move around the kitchen.

"Thank you for taking her in, I know she's a bit troublesome. I hope she didn't disrupt your evening too much."

You wave him off, flipping the switch to set the kettle on boil. "It's no problem at all, she's an angel. She was on her best behaviour." You took a mug out of the cupboard and dropped a tea bag in it. "I heard the noise outside and I figured I should check what it was. Angie's little coat was stuck in the fence and she was tugging to get loose by the time I got to her. It did rip, unfortunately."

Mick shrugs, "that's fine, really." You hum, reaching for the sugar from the cabinet in front of you. "Are you here alone?" He asks, realizing that he's yet to see anyone else.

You'd be lying if you said your danger radar didn't go off at that moment but it was a harmless question, wasn't it? Not like you had some stranger in your house with his dog.

"Uh yeah," you turned to face him, taking in his features; blonde hair tucked under his hat, bright blue eyes, his cheeks were chubby but not overly chunky, proof that he was healthy but ate well you suppose, not to mention the award winning smile he had.

There was something about him that was so charming and so familiar about him but you couldn't place it. Then again, he was a stranger in your home, all alone, in the middle of the night.

"My siblings are in the city with their partners and our parents passed away so it's just me."

"Oh," Mick trails off for a moment, "I'm sorry to hear that."

You shrug him off, "it's okay. That's life, what can you do?"

The silence fills the room, the kettle whistles and you turn it off, filling the mug with the teabag in it. You leave it steep, turning your attention back to the man in your kitchen.

"I think I have a blanket that you can wrap Angie in."

"It's no big deal, I promise. That's not the first coat she's ripped," he chuckles, making you smile. "Come with me," you nodded, walking towards the steps and up you went.

Mick's footsteps are quiet, following a foot behind when you open the guest bedroom, leaning down to haul a box out of the closet.

He sat on the floor with you as you went through the stack of blankets that you've pulled out of the box. "Take whichever you want," you tell him, flipping through the stack yourself. He hums, watching as you flip through them and picks out a pink one with little butterflies on it.

You smiled, giggling. "That's uh.. that's my baby blanket."

Mick opens his mouth, "oh! Sorry!" He says, about to put it back into the stack but you stop him.

"It's fine, I haven't used it in years."

He shakes his head, reaching around you to wrap the blanket over your shoulders, "it's still yours," he whispers, leaned into you.

Your faces were all but an inch apart, Mick's lips ghosting over yours. It was you that closed the gap between the two of you and it was like a switch flipped.

A fight for dominance, the two of you on the floor all over each other.

"I don't usually do this," you mumbled, your lips on his as you felt Mick's hands slip under your top.

He hums, "me either." His eyes fixed on the red lace that covers your tits. Mick leans forward, kissing along your collarbones and down to your tits, you were so distracted by the feeling that you missed him pulling your pants down, leaving you in just your panties.

He smiles, standing up. You shift, now on your knees in front of him, hands resting on your thighs as you look up at him. He leans down and kisses you, his knuckles brushing the underside of your chin when he looks at you, kissing you once more.

Mick grabs your chin, tilting your head back as you look up at him.

His index fingers taps your cheek lightly and you open your mouth, “hm such a good girl.” He squeezes your face slightly before he slips his thumb into your mouth.

He crouches down in front of you, eyes fixed on you and watching your every move; the way your own eyes study him or perhaps the way your lips wrap around his thumb, the feeling of your tongue on his finger.

“Bet you wish that was my cock, hm? Bet you'd look pretty with it in your mouth.”

He smiles at the way your eyes widen at his filthy words.

It was a few moments later that he pulled his finger away, kissing you once more; sloppy and messy before he pushed you to lay down for a moment.

He sits on the floor, his back against the bed frame when he pulls you down onto his lap. He kisses you, tapping your hip softly so you’d lift off him a bit before he lines himself up with you and you sink down onto him. The two of you let out a sigh at the same time; Mick feeling you clench around him and you feeling him stretch you out.

"Relax,” he tells you, a hand rubbing along your thigh. “Take it so well, angel.” He mumbles against your lips before his hand wraps around your neck, fingers squeezing against the soft flesh causing a little whimper to slip past your lips.

His ocean eyes fixed on you; chest heaving, the thin layer of sweat across your soft skin made it glisten under the white light of the living room, your hand wrapped around his wrist.

His hand finally moving from your neck, letting you take a deep breath; the air burning your lungs.

A hand wanders down your chest, fingers brushing over your nipples before moving down your torso to your clit. He presses down, rubbing slow circles.

You fall flat against him, your arms wrap over his shoulders, his hand resting on your lower back as he bounced you up and down on his lap.

His hand slips between the two of you once again, rubbing slow circles on your clit until he feels you clench around him again.

“Oh- fuck,” you breathe, your hand gripping his arm as he leans into you.

“I know, I know - I'm right here.” He whispers to you, his hand moving in time with his hips.

Between the two, he pushes you over the edge. The knot in your stomach comes loose and he watches as you cum. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Mick follows behind you.

It takes you two a moment to register all of it, you're still leaning on him when you speak. "I meant it," you say.

"What?" He leans back, looking at you.

"I don't usually do this."

Mick laughs, "I believe you, me either."

The barking from downstairs gets your attention, it seems Angie had woken up and seen everyone had disappeared. The two of you manage to get separated and dressed, heading back down to the puppy waiting on you.

Mick had picked up a green blanket from the stack in the room. "Shall I drive you two home now?" You asked and Mick nodded, "if it's not too much trouble."

You smiled, the three of you piling into your car, Angie in the back seat with her head sticking between the two of you while you drove with Mick's directions. You knew the place, the Schumacher Ranch - that's why his face seemed familiar.

The car came to a stop in front of the house. "If you ever want some company over the holidays, call me. I’ll come by or you can come over." Mick says and you smile, nodding.

"You know, I didn't even catch your name. I don't even think I asked." you giggled and Mick smiled, realizing that he didn't know yours either.

"I'm Mick," he extends his hand out to you. As one does, you take his hand, shaking it. "Nice to meet you, Mick. I'm y/n."

He pulls you by the hand, kissing you once more for the night. Angie pokes herself between the two of you, you laugh and reach over to rub her side. "No more running off hm?"

Mick gets out of the car, helping Angie out before leaning into the car from the opened window. "Thank you again.. for everything. I'll see you around, y/n."

"I'll see you around, Mick." You smiled, waving to him and Angie as they went up the steps to the door.

Gina was sitting on the couch next to the window when they came in. "Gosh, I thought you died out there. I was about to send out the search party." She tells her little brother, rubbing Angie's side as the dog jumps onto the couch with her.

Mick laughs, rolling his eyes.

"Was that y/n I saw outside? From next door? I didn't know you knew her." Gina raises an eyebrow.

Mick waves off his sister, "she found Angie and invited me in for a cup of tea." He tells her, smiling to himself when he remembers the cup of tea left on the counter - what had happened was way better than tea.

---

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#merry smutmas xoxo #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher smut #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut

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bluetimeombre · 1 year ago

Text

✧˚. ❃ ↷ Call it what you want to, part three

[I'm having way too much fun with these, but i'm gonna try and make the next part the final. i'm so glad you guys are as obssessed as me. and all i can say is i'm sorry to the tom blyth girlies, believe me, i am one of you and i promise i'll make it up to you!]

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

You are texting ... Timothee Chalamet

Timothee Chalamet is calling... My Daisy <3 [declined]

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

liked by ... tchalamet, lola.tung, emmalouisecorrin, florenceough, louispartridge_ & others

yourusername: dreams do come true, can't wait to see you later graham norton!!

705k likes 304k comments

user: omg she's such a star

user: my bby moving up in the world

user: no omg cause this is a dream for her

user: ur so pretty

user: I LOVE U

tchalamet: let's go!!! can't wait

yourusername: wait for me at least

tchalamet: waiting...

user: they're so cute!!1

user: i BET he dumped kylie to be with her and she's dating tom

user: my two fave's

user: she looks so good

user: y does timmy only follow one person and it's her

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

the graham norton show has been a dream since you started acting, you'd hoped to one day make it on and know that if you did, you'd have officially made it.

not only were you on the show with timmy, but cher, julia roberts and tom hanks. to say you were shaking in your boots was an understatement. back stage you were jumping around after spending some time with the guests. that time had been spent mainly at timothee's side and laughing when appropriate, because you just couldn't believe you were there with them. timothee just laughed, trying to ease your nerves even if he to was scared. in the end, he bounced with you.

you sat on the end of the sofa, next to timothee as the guests ran down the other end.

'and some stars we have on the sofa, look at them at the end. world premier of wonka!' celebrated graham.

you and timmy nodded, thanking the applauses.

'but it wasn't just the world premier, you filmed it over here?' he asked.

'yea we made it in leavesden, very close to here, we shot it almost entirely in london and er- as i always say- i feel like an honorary brit now,' said timmy, glancing at you as he called himself a brit.

you bite back something between a grimace and a smile.

'it was about six of seven months,' he continued, 'it was absolutely joyous as an ignorant yankee.'

'you guys drive on the other side of the road,' joked tom hanks.

'and welcome, at the end there being very quiet,' said graham gesturing to you.

'yea, hi!' you grin, taking a sip of your drink as the audience laugh.

'you're from here, aren't you?'

'yes, british. but it was still really nice to film in london and bath for a lot of it.'

'i can imagine and because, is it right, you were filming for the hunger games whilst you were filming wonka?' he asked. a picture of your poster for the hunger games flashed on the screen and timmy led the applause, whooping.

his attention was only focused on you. his eyes watching every movement, his lips curling up, arm around the back of the sofa.

'thank you, thank you. immediately after filming wonka i got a plane to poland to start filming for the hunger games, yea. literally still in costume for wonka on the plane, i-i got some looks.'

the crowd laugh.

'let's talk about that, hunger games, number one movie!' graham celebrated as everyone clapped.

'thank you, thank you- there we are,' you smile at the picture of tom and you in your characters in the zoo scene. you chose not to notice of timothee shifted around and coughed at the picture.

'and, is it true you did your own singing in that?'

'yes, well i do in wonka too, but for the hunger games it was live. you know, i play this character lucy-grey who's part of this covey band and they all sing so i did it all live on set. then recorded it for the soundtrack separately. this is boring to explain, but-' you said, laughing and fiddling with your rings nervously.

'she's fantastic in the movie,' said timothee, putting his attention on graham and his hand on yours to stop the fiddling. 'i remember working with her in wonka, it was just so much fun, she brings a sort of ... breath of fresh air into it, even though it's a light-hearted comedy, she still makes that difference. and i saw the hunger games, its so cool to be able to see her in an element that i'm not familiar with. but i can still see how she plays the role and how she plays it in such her own and charismatic way.'

you turn your head down, blushing as the crowd clap and as timothee rubs your back. he made it impossible to keep it cool, and on live tv.

'and she sang the songs so good in wonka!' he continued. you tried to get him to stop, but he went on. 'on our table read, she was singing the songs there with our music producer, james taylor, and even then she was singing her parts, our co-stars parts, my parts.'

'ok, shush, shush,' you put your hand over timothees mouth.

'you know what, i saw the new hunger games movie,' said tom hanks, breaking in between you. 'and i have to say, you were the best part of the movie.'

your jaw almost dropped. 'oh woah, thank you, thank you mr tom hanks,' you clasp your hands together, thanking him. 'woah, woody just complimented me, that means so much to me.'

the rest of the interview went on, talking about cher's music, pretty women and listen to tom hanks talk about space and science. sometimes, when timmy would take a drink, he'd bring you yours, offering it to you in a sweet move.

it went on to talk about timothee going to play the iconic bob dylan in a movie, so it was your turn to watch in admiration, eyes sparkling with it.

'no i haven't met him, i'd love to meet him but you know, i don't want to put any pressure on him in any way. but er- we just saw him live,' he said, gesturing to you as you nod, holding onto your drink, 'three weeks ago, in new york. sold out, kings theatre. it was brilliant, it was magical. they bag your phone on the way in, obliges you to be present, as hard as that may be,' he said again, glancing to you. because how could he ever be present when standing next to you?

a picture showed of bob dylan with sonny and cher.

'i can see it, there is a passing resemblance,' says graham.

'thank you, that is the biggest compliment. my god, i'm blown away,' he leant back on the sofa, arm brushing yours. 'this whole talk show has been like a trip.'

everyone laughed at that, tom hanks playing along.

'but cher, you're going to be played by someone soon,' prompted graham.

'please say it's me,' said julia roberts.

'well-' graham gestured down to you.

you laugh and sheepishly hold up your hand. 'i'll do it, i'm currently un-employed.

cher looked down at you, 'we've cast nobody, babe.'

'you have now,' you shrug. the audience laugh.

finally, you guys talked about wonka, leading timothee- the leading man- to talk about it.

'you sing and dance in it, don't forget that,' you nudge him.

timothee blushes, nodding. somehow the two of you had snuggled up on the sofa, pushed to the end and bodies pressed close together. 'it's blasphemy to say that on a sofa with cher!'

'no, i saw you on saturday night live, you were great. and you danced and you did that hot-guys, or cool-guys or something like that,' said cher.

the audience clap and you laugh loudly, remembering his saturday night live. you'd been in the audience, having done press for the hunger games. it was the best night.

'baby face!' you cheer.

'i can't believe you watched that,' said timmy to cher.

'do you want to re-fresh us?' invited julia.

the crowd whoop and laugh as you clap along.

'you sing it with me?' asked timmy, looking over at you.

'absolutely not, this is all you babe,' you pat him on the back as he leans forward and re-counts the song. you nod your head along with, mouthing the words and clapping, pretending to bow when he was finished. timmy laughed and held onto you.

'you two do seem very close down there,' said graham.

for a moment, you two pause and there's quiet. before you guys realise he's talking about the fact everyone on the sofa had shuffled down so that you were on the edge.

'timmy's magnetic field,' you say, rubbing his shoulders.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

instagram story... tchalamet posted!

caption: graham norton, let's go!!

tagged: yourusername

caption: she's calling

tagged: yourusername

Instagram story … yourusername posted

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

user: guys, tom was out partying with friends and his ex-gf while yourusername was doing her graham norton interview

user: as he should after yourusername spends all her time with timothee

user: they’re friends

user: img party boy

user: why is this news? do we care

user: noooooo my parents

user: what if there relationship is just all pr for the film 😔😔

user: I love tom, let him do what he wants

user: she’s better with timmy anyway

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

liked by… tchalamet, sadiesink_, rachelzegler, tomblyth, vanityfair & others

yourusername: thank you so much vanity fair for featuring me and coming to my home town (p.s I’m so sorry about all the sheep poo x)

771k likes 401k comments

user: love!

user: ONG the only one to ever exsist ever!

user: I can’t wait to see what she says about tom and timothee

user: she is her own person

user: OMG TAYLOR SWOFT

user: collab when???

user: I love u!!!!

user: I can’t wait to read and stare at you

tchalamet: let’s go!!!!

yourusername liked tchalamet’s comment

user: parents are interacting

user: anyone notice her and tom been really quiet? they went from making out in streets to barley being seen together

user: reputation era!!!

user: is this a reputation easter egg??

tomblyth: very proud, my dear !

yourusername: thanks bro ;)

user: what!!!!!

user: WHAT HAS HAPPENED

user: he got bro zoned

user: they went from quoting notting hill to calling each other bro 😭😭

yourusername in conversation with VANITY FAIR.

user: so she dating tom or what?

user: did you just not read the article?

user: tomblyth do me a favour and tell her to make up her mind

tomblyth: user do me a favour and get a life

user: HE DID THAT

user: tom so fr

user: tom a real bf

user: i love them!!!!

user: I love her!!!

user: she said what she said and left no crumbs

user: queen shit

user: MOTHER!!

user: the way she talks suggests they are only friends and my heart breaks

user: i'll miss them

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

:) taglist: @callsignwidow @kodzuvk @dangelnleif @coconut-dreamz @destrolid @hermionelove @popejar @yesimwriting @slytherhoes @peachesandmon @zunin-msty (thank you all for enjoying it!!!!!)

#timothee x reader #timothee imagine #wonka #tom blyth #timothee x you #timothée chalamet #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #coryo #fame dr #timothee x y/n

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urhoneycombwitch · 1 year ago

Note

Read about husky!eddie last night, dreamed about him, still thinking about him, NEED HIM TO DICK ME DOWN SO BAD 😩

ahem. I’m just going to rattle off some scenarios. Continuing off of hot af husky older neighbor Eddie: He starts offering to come over and “fix things” all the time. Maybe he’s under our sink and checking the pipes. Maaaaybe he convinces us to sit on his face. We’re facing away from him so we pull his dick out and jerk him off while grinding on his tongue 🥵

He noticed our car making a weird sound.. brings his tools over but before you know it we are riding him in the back seat because we can’t resist bouncing on his thick thighs 😵‍💫

Eddie can’t quite believe how obsessed we are with his body.. how we just can’t wait to get his shirt off and kiss and nibble his pecs, down to the soft pudge of his tummy, down to his thick cock (which we worship) and he’s more than happy to just rail us every night like we deserve.

Thank you for listening. I’m gonna go to eject myself into the sun

if you're throwing yourself into the sun can I come join u HOLY FUCK

+18 mdni

he's a handyman for sure, works for an emergency lockpick company but his knowledge is vast. jack of all trades but really good with weird appliance noises and strange car sounds. good with his hands.

I think it becomes a joke, between the two of you- maybe it starts out earnest, your garbage disposal really was acting up- but every time you ask Eddie to fix something ya'll just end up having insane sex.

he likes being asked just as much as you like asking. you sidle up to him while he's working on his own car out in the apartment's parking lot, hands covered in grease, failing to hide his grin as you cross the asphalt.

you explain what's been leaking out of your AC, really playing up the dramatics even tho you know Eddie's not a hard sell, kind of losing the plot a bit as you zone out on his hands- winding a clean rag at the grime around his rings (which he keeps on while working despite the obvious safety code).

"your AC, huh?" smug son of a bitch. with pretty curls peeking out the back of his black handkerchief, chain glinting off the heft of his pecs through that obscene goddamn muscle tee.

"yes, Eddie. my AC. 🙄"

he hmms and haws for a bit, really enjoying making you squirm 'cuz he knows you won't outright ask for a hookup so this is just one way to get payback.

"got a pretty busy schedule today, doll," he tsks, stretching out a boot to lean into his knee, widening his stance, "but I'll see what I can do. maybe this afternoon."

you know it won't even be 11am before he's tongue-deep inside your pussy, your knees on the kitchen tiles, hand wrapped around his thick cock, brushing against his stomach with each upstroke, tools scattered around your kitchen haphazardly in the vague shape of a pretense.

would love to write more for husky!neighbor!Eddie feel free to send reqs or any prompts!!

#husky!neighbor!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #lu's anons #e.m. thots from lu

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myna33 · 2 months ago

Text

Pillbug

Should’ve left earlier. Car is making that sound again. I’m tired.

Thing is, they don't warn you. They turn up where they like, take their pick, and move on. Only thing to do is keep an eye on the news and head out soon as a report comes in. If it’s more than two- or three-day’s drive you may as well stay put because they don’t wait around. I’ve wasted too much gas—too much time—not to know that.

I hang right a few blocks from downtown and almost hop the curb when I find a spot. Douse the headlights. Recline. Listen to the radio for a while. All the local stations are talking about the lightshow, but I don’t want to hear it, bitter as I am. So I flip through until I catch coverage of, I don’t know what, a baseball game? It doesn’t matter. All I need is the sound of talking. If I’m smart, I’ll remember to shut them up before I doze off and run my battery down. But it wouldn’t be the first time I forgot.

All around the houses are dark. It’s three in the morning and distantly, quietly I hear a train whistle. Freight making its way faster than I ever will. I zip my coat to the chin and turn up the collar. Jam the last pair of handwarmers deep in my gloves. Turn off the heat and watch my breath clouding out in front of me, caught by the streetlamp. Not winter breath, high and solid and white, but spring breath. Pale steam in amber light.

….

The first lightshow was two years ago, off the coast of China. It hung around there for a few days (longest of any of them) and nearly got a war going. I remember this neighbor of mine—guy with stringy hair I used to buy weed off—going on and on about drones. But within the month things got too weird for the usual stories. They were everywhere, flashing in and out, sometimes in hundreds of places at once.

I was back in Indianapolis then, working my uncle’s landscaping business. Still telling people I’d go back for that last year of school. Eventually, the lights started taking people. Once, a plane went down in Nebraska or one of those other big, empty states. At first the news said equipment malfunction, but there weren't any bodies so everybody knew that was bull. Pretty soon after they downed and canceled most flights. I'd never been on a plane, and now it was too late.

….

I wake up.

Knocking next to my head. A badge. Blotchy red face.

I roll down the window.

“Sir,” he says. I can see a piece of myself in the passenger-side mirror, curled up around my stomach like an animal.

“What’s up?”

“No sleeping in cars.”

“Sorry. Didn’t know.”

“Sure. You have business around here?” He braces himself against the door. His arm is shaking.

“Yeah, my, uh—my brother. But I got into town late. He wasn’t up to let me in.”

“Sure. Well. Keep in mind the travel restrictions, right? You did hear about those?”

“Oh. Don’t go anywhere you don’t have lodging. But I do have it. Lodging, I mean.”

“That’s good. If it's true.”

“It is. I'll clear out soon.”

He backs off, boots slopping around in the river of melt outside my door. “Don’t let me catch you again. Wouldn’t be the first I’ve brought in this weekend.” I lose sight of him as he moves back along the car, hunkered down, vanishing into the milky glass.

Usually I'd've slept in, the ideal being to sleep days and walk nights. But that’s out of the question now; too many eyes on me. Going out after sundown is also illegal, of course, but there’s no enforcing that. Not with a town’s population doubled, tripled maybe, and everybody in the streets. They’d have to move every officer in the state around like whack-a mole. Not that they don’t try. I’m tired. Maybe to lots of people twenty-seven is young. It doesn’t feel like it. What the hell were you thinking, not booking a fucking room? Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

….

Walking now. Ends of my pantlegs all wet with muck and crusted up with road salt and palms sticky from the dregs of the handwarmers. Everywhere there are leaves. Left over from last season’s raking and sapped of their reds and oranges long before the thaw, in soaking heaps along the road. The first daffodils are here, too, and just like my grandma’s. This could’ve been my town—if I wasn’t looking closely. I can remember her daffodils in a bed set off with old, rotted logs. I remember…pillbugs. Little grey pillbugs skittering when I turn the logs over. That wormy, musky smell in the air. Rain smell. Her in a candy-striped lawn chair with the nylon bleached and fraying. Tapping her cigarette in an ashtray full of rainwater. All of it is still there somehow, even if the edges are fuzzy.

You know, this might be the first time I’ve kept at something I’m so bad at. I haven’t even kept at a lot of stuff I was good at. People think I’m lazy, but would a lazy person live like this? I don’t think so. A lazy person would take real advantage of times like these; just kick back, and eat microwave dinners, and jack it. They wouldn’t be sleeping out in the cold. I imagine lazy people have smooth insides that hang loose. My insides are bunched up all the time. I can barely eat anymore.

That said, I find a place. A kind of breakfast place with laminated menus, where the air is so rich it turns your stomach. I’m keeping my head down because there are news people here. Some are wearing those bright-colored jackets with logo patches. Others aren’t wearing anything special, but you can tell anyway from how loud they talk. Something prickling at the edges of their eyes. At the corner of their lips.

A man plops down across from me in the booth, sliding right up against the window.

“Mind? Sorry. Place is packed.”

“No.”

“No? No like it’s fine or no like ‘leave me alone.’” He smiles a big one with his stained teeth.

“No, you can sit. Go ahead. Sorry.”

Whips off his hat and rakes thinning hair across a tight, shiny scalp. Leans in. Vibrating in his seat. Trying very hard to hit it off. Come across light and conversational.

“So, you here for the lights?”

“I don’t know anything about that. I’m here visiting my brother.”

“Is that so? Hope the traffic hasn’t been a problem for you. My crew had a hell of a time getting into town. Finding beds, too. Word is that California and some other states are gonna try to shutter hotels, restaurants—hospitality whatever—in places where the lights turn up. Try to cut down on this type of shit.”

“Crew? Are you like a reporter or something?”

“Yeah, the Dispatch. Isn’t it crazy? Never thought there’d be one so close. I’m scared, mind you. I mean, I never thought—it’s a big chance is all. I’m really curious about these moths. You know that’s what they’re calling themselves now? Some of them anyway.”

“Yeah, did you hear about that one who drove his truck through a barricade? Three people died in that.” Make it unpleasant. Put him off.

“Sure. Chicago, right? But these aren’t violent people. Mostly. I’m not curious in, like, a ‘look at the freaks’ way.”

“How are you curious then?”

“I don’t know. They're like storm chasers. Like they’re playing pretend scientist or something. But I don’t buy that. Something else going on with em.’ It’s a solid article, anyway.”

The waitress comes over and takes our drink orders. Coffee, no cream. And a water. Something else. Something else. Something else.

We talk for some time, actually. He tells me he interviewed some kid just half an hour back who looked “way too young to be doing this.”

"How is some kid just running around unsupervised? Under a curfew, no less?"

“I don’t know,” I say. And mean it. Plenty of people younger than me and smarter than me chase them. The lightshows are on social long before any broadcast people pick them up; long, long before the newspapers do.

“You see that?” He’s showing me these pictures. People showing off the bruises they’d gotten from cops in Philly. No live rounds there yet, but who can tell when the claws will come out. Things are getting uglier the longer it goes on. The clearer we all see that things aren’t going back.

“Nah, I don’t have a profile.”

“Seriously? I would’ve thought—never mind. Actually, maybe that’s better. Stuff rots your brain.” He’s busy cleaning some stray egg off his watch so I take another bite of toast. Hate people watching me eat. I don’t even have a phone anymore, but I don’t tell him that.

“Yeah, I’ve got a profile for work. Awful. Used to be that when someone wanted to complain at me they’d have to leave a message at the office. But now? Anyway, there’s this lady my friend interviewed who thinks she has some kind of thing going on with our visitors. She’s got thousands of people following her on—.” He snaps his fingers, eyes on the ceiling. “Whatever. Anyway—she thinks you can call them down, with intentions.”

“Like, just wanting them badly enough?”

“I guess. Maybe pass me some of that creamer? Thanks. And yeah, it’s anyone’s guess. Probably just trying to sell vitamins or something.”

….

It was a bitter day in January when the curfew came down. Only a few months after flights were canceled. I’d quit coming to work before they pivoted to snow removal and I’d basically stopped answering calls. Hey kid? You know, it’s pretty shit of you to just drop off like this. And it’s not even about the replacement; already got one. You know how worried your parents are? They keep calling, and what am I supposed to tell them?

My roommate, Kev, was late getting back from work so I held off on starting dinner and sat around, half-watching the news. The bags under the governor’s eyes. Humvees idling in the road. Boots splattered with road crud. A news panel with a meteorologist, an aerospace engineer, and some natsec guy. The meteorologist apologizing, saying “we just don’t have any solid data to predict these things, or even say for sure what they are.”

I almost miss him coming in. “Hey, you hear they’re not letting people out after eight? Is your store just gonna close early or what?” Nothing. He tries throwing his coat over the back of the couch, but it slides down to the floor in a wet pile. Without stopping, without even looking, he heads up the stairs. Must’ve been a bad shift, right? But no, that wasn’t it. Kev’s sister had went for a weekend trip at her boyfriend’s, parents’ cabin and never came back. Parents hit up her school two weeks later and no dice.

Are you comfortable assuring the American people that these, uh, events, are not of military origin? Yes, I can assure them that these are not of foreign—domestic, for that matter—military construction. Well, that begs the question, then, of where all these people are going? You know, I think that, um, strikes our viewers as potentially hostile activity.

I could hear him from downstairs. “How should I know?! She’s an adult, isn’t she? She can skip if she likes. Probably just fucking around. Like last time.” He took a long shower that night and went straight to his room after.

….

Something would’ve felt bad about going back to the car. Instead, I find a bench downtown and work on my notes. Doug, the man from the breakfast place, gave me his card and a pocket notepad with the name of his job on it. Friendly? Or maybe I just look like a kid. A tall, gaunt, slumped-in kid. In it, I begin to work up to-dos and suggestions for myself. The waitress’ pen is low on ink, but if I press hard enough the letters come out in fits and starts. Number one is to check my oil, because the car is making that sound again.

Number two is all about getting up to speed. Lots of things aren’t in my life because I could never have had them, or never did, or they would stick me down when I need to keep moving. An apartment? That would cost rent and rent’s money you can’t spend on gas and gas I need to keep moving. So you can understand my reasoning for not having those things. But a phone? A person in my position should really have a phone. I wouldn’t have to rely on the radio and library computers, then. It would also be a good idea to get some canned food; restaurants use too much money and time and talking.

A woman is crossing the lot near me, one hand busy with her daughter and the other lugging what might be groceries.

“Help with that?”

Her eyes dart over me, up and down.

“We’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Jesus. What do I look like? I head over to this little clothing boutique a few stores down. Wouldn't it be weird just to use their mirror and leave? Without trying something on? But it's a women’s store full of things I shouldn't wear, so I just grab some sunglasses and take those to the changing room. Nobody seems to notice, but I feel my throat tightening anyway. It’s hard knowing how to act anymore. We’re all so out of practice.

Honestly, I don’t look all that bad. Shirt’s wrinkly, but that’s what you get for wearing what you slept in. I do keep clean. Wear deodorant. Even when I sleep in the car. Little things I hold myself accountable for. After Kev left it got hard to do that. Or pay rent. But it got easier to be light and fast. It gets so easy it’s scary. And even then—not enough.

….

Hey bud, haven’t heard from you in a while. Your mom and I just want you to know that if things didn’t work out with your uncle you still have a place here. All we’d have to do is get the boxes out of your room. Is everything okay? Wh–what’s that honey?—your mom says she found this big box of your old school papers you might want to go through. It’s getting pretty crazy out there, isn’t it? You wouldn’t believe the Zimmermans. They actually headed up to see family in Michigan and we haven’t heard from them in weeks. Anyway, please, please don’t leave us in the dark. Don’t mind your uncle. Anyway, room’s hear if you want it. You know we love you!

End of messages. Press one to rep—

“Are you getting those?”

“I don’t think so. I do like them. But I already have a pair. I do like them, though.”

….

So far, there's no way of telling how the lights work. Random? Maybe. Planned? Maybe? Somewhere in between? Anybody's guess. Could be that they chose where to go and who to lift a long time ago. If that's the case I'm wasting my time, I guess.

When I was twelve or something, maybe, I used to ride around at night on my bike. Sometimes with a friend, sometimes alone. One night, alone, I rode out so far on a county road that there were no more cars. I laid down and stretched out against the asphalt. Little shards of rock bit at my palms and wrists, and the asphalt was still warm from the sun beating on it all day. It was a bean year, not a corn year, and above their leaves the fireflies wheeled around.

It was so dark you could see the galaxy’s long arm stretching out into the black, pointing or beckoning. You never realize how much is out there until the lights are turned off. A murmuring glow older than any car or road, or the town behind me. Waiting, all along. Looking at them is almost like sinking. Holding your breath until things get quiet and still.

….

It’s getting near dusk.

There are people all around now. A policeman on a megaphone announces that the main roads in and out of town will be barricaded; anyone with no good business being here should get out before the arrests begin. A sweat-smelling man next to me throws a cup of soda at him and is brought down and his hands tied behind his back. That eager, animal smell is everywhere. I remember the bus jerking under me on school trips, sweat gluing my pale legs to vinyl. Crowding into the basement when the sky bruises and buckles and the leaves show their silver underbelly. Something is going to happen. Something, anything must happen.

….

“I’m sure she’ll turn up. I used to be like that. Just disappear for a while.” Cold comfort, I know. Kev also knows, and says nothing. He says very little anymore. For the past month I have only seen him when he crosses from the front door to the stairs, eyes straight ahead. Something must be different today. He has lingered in the living room with me. Heated up some rice. Pretended to watch the news sputtering on in loops. Waiting, I guess, for me to cross over.

“You ever do something like that? When you were a kid. Just gone for six whole weeks?”

“No. I guess I never really did that kinda thing.”

He turns and I see his wide, wet eyes. He picks at his arm.

“You know what? If they’d stop running around trying to corral everyone maybe they’d actually get somewhere. Like, they can’t find her because they’re too busy keeping track of everybody else.” He wipes the snot away from his nose and keeps chewing. It takes him a long time to chew, like he doesn’t really want the food to go down. “Like, why even fuck around with that? They can’t stop them, you know? What a waste.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and find it stiff, almost too stiff to be flesh. He gets up, eventually. He’ll be gone in another week. I’ll help his father carry out the very same couch we’re sitting on, leaving wounds in the thin carpet. His father will look down and toe at them, ask how I’m holding up while Kev finishes packing. Then, they’ll shrink away down the street. With half the furniture gone the house seems to balloon around me, a too-big prop I can only hide in until I'm discovered.

….

Night is here. The streetlamps are lit, but towering sodium lamps have outdone them, igniting hundreds of teeming heads. Underfoot are leaves and trash and discarded signs. A carpet of soiled cardboard and tracked-in filth. They have stumbled across the barricades. They stand on cars, mailboxes, and stolen lawn furniture. A group of ten or more have climbed atop the diner with a case of beer and they hurl their empties down at the cops. A beanbag hits one in the chest and he is still grinning when he falls and his leg breaks under him. I am in the crowd, and they brush me with their shoulders when they pass, but I am not part of all this. The gap between us has only, temporarily, shrunk.

The sky above us is a flat blackness. More than clouds. The light which presses so hard into us just can't make a dent in it. Those sodium floods cower, feral and small, having met and recoiled from the edge of their territory. More police roll into the intersection with some kind of truck but they, too, shrink back. We can try, but it is out of our hands. Something, anything.

“Hey! You.”

Doug is here again, hat long gone.

“Just visiting your brother, right? Knew you were holding out on me. You seeing this shit?”

“Sure.”

“Well?!”

“Not tonight.”

“What are you talking about? Come on. Still time to talk before the show, right? What brings you?”

“Not tonight. I know it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I should’ve moved earlier.” There is something warm on my cheek. Against the bridge of my nose. In the hollow of my neck. He looks sorry. “I should’ve moved, but I’m not fast enough. You can only go so fast.”

He does not stop me when I leave. Over and behind us, the show is beginning. The lights glint on and begin to school. They dip and weave, and when they dip the whole dark of the sky comes down with them. Pulled downward and inward. A tendril seeking its bride.

….

“Can we go to the pool?”

“Pool isn’t open yet sweetie—till June. Anyway, I don’t believe your parents would want you there with only me to watch over. You gave them quite a scare last time.”

Grandma. Tapping away the ash. Rubbing her knee, and then her calf, blotched with age.

“What’ve you got there?”

A pillbug, is what I have. I have stolen its cover and exposed it to the sodden, grey sky. It has frozen in place. Is it waiting for me to make some kind of decision? I wonder how often it sees any light at all. I pick it up delicately and it curls in on itself, in surrender. A small life giving itself over to chance.

…..

The people surge forward and backward, unsure of their want. And anyway, it doesn't matter. The tendril found whoever it was looking for.

Somewhere, distantly, a gun fires. And somewhere, something is on fire. The warm stings my eyes and glues them shut. My legs carry me back to the car, over something pale and bent-in on the ground. And I drive. Up in the grass around the barricade. Out and way.

I drive in no particular direction for no particular amount of time. If the car makes any noise I don't notice. My limbs quietly perform what little movement is required while mind and stomach turn over and over and over.

Above, the dark breaks up. Becomes layered and familiar. When color begins to show through I pull off at a rest stop.

The salt of my face runs into my mouth. There is a shred of daffodil on my front, left tire. My handwarmers, damp with sweat, are still in my gloves. Pull them out.

I am crying and the sky, pink and open, will sometime soon be blue. And I will get new handwarmers. And I will wipe off my face. And if I am not too old, too tired, too slow, I will turn back on my radio and listen for them.

I have been picked over. This time.

#mynafic

32 notes · View notes

djarincore · 10 months ago

Note

Hello! I saw requests were open and thought you may like this prompt

Imagine reader was in some way, shape, or form really good at flying a ship. It doesn't matter what kind it is, they can fly it. And din and reader are being chased by pirates or something like that, and the reader takes over flying while din goes off to do something, and all of a sudden their doing Barrel rolls and death drops making all the cargo fly everywhere (it would be hilarious if this is new information to din and he didnt know reader could do this)

This is just a silly little thought i had. You can add onto it and change it however you like (if you could add like mild tension of any kind i would be very grateful!) Love ya!

-H

TAGS: slight angst, injury mention, misunderstandings?, happy ending

A/N: hi H!!!! I loved this request and I'm sorry it took so long. I got sucked into the dragon age rabbit hole and just managed to crawl out after finishing origins lol hope you enjoy it!!!

—

Din’s breathless voice came through the com, “Get the ship started.”

You could tell he was running from the sound of blaster fire. Another failed bounty, you could only assume, for the third time in a row.

Things weren't looking so good for the two of you. Your partnership with the bounty hunter started with Grogu, getting him to the Jedi safely, and with Grogu gone now, things were tense. You didn't know where your partnership stood anymore, what it meant now that the mission was done.

You bring the engine to life with the flip of a few switches absentmindedly.

When you heard the clamoring of boots against steel, you shot up from the pilot seat and took your place in the co-pilot seat. Din came in seconds later, sliding into the pilot seat and getting the ship in the air.

“Hurt?” you muttered, fingers twitching in your lap as you await an answer.

He didn't respond, but his fingers curled around the wheel.

“I don't think they're following us. I’ll be back.”

He slipped out of the chair, switching into autopilot, and the door with a slight limp, disappearing down the ladder.

You sighed. He always lets you patch him up, at least before. Was it really time to move on? Was this his way of telling you he didn't need you anymore?

In your wandering thoughts, you failed to notice the tailing ship until shots blasted past the wings of the ship. Your mind and body jolted into action, slipping into the captain's chair.

Sharp, calculated maneuvers had the ship diving and twisting to avoid being shot.

You could hear the clamor of things in the cargo hold being thrown around, including Din. He was cursing, grunting, being shoved against the cramped walls of the hold.

Eventually, you managed to lose the pirates once again, settling back into the pilot's seat and hearing Din clamor back up the ladder into the cockpit.

“What the hell were you doing?” Din snapped, spinning your chair around.

His tone made you bristle. “Saving our asses. Those pirates were on us,” you retorted.

“Yes, but your piloting was reckless. You should've called me.”

“Sorry if I'm a little rusty,” you huffed. You hadn't been able to practice your piloting skills since Din always flew. It was his ship after all, and you were always busy with Grogu to chip in. “If you don't like my piloting, then I'll go. Seems like lately, you don't need my help with anything. So, what am I still doing here?”

There it was. The topic you'd been too afraid to broach. Your throat tightened, and suddenly you realized the fatigue in your muscles pulling your body to the ground.

You're glad you don't have to see his face. The silence is enough. You had to go.

“I'm going to bed. I'm sure you’ve got this handled.” You left the pilot seat and brushed past him.

—

Sleep didn't come easy which was why you could hear Din approaching your cot. He paused at your bedside, and you could feel his gaze on your back.

You turned over and looked at him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to speak up.

“I didn't know you knew how to pilot,” he started, easing down onto one of the crates. You picked up on the faint hiss he let out and the way his body slumped to one side.

“Well, you don't know a lot about me.” You didn't mean for it to come out so harsh, but maybe it's a truth the both of you needed to hear. When you reflected on your journey together, neither of you had ever been open to one another. As someone who only ever had themselves to rely on, being vulnerable was foreign to you. Now you were losing Din because of it.

Just when your chest started to constrict, he finally said just enough for you to hear, “I'd like to.”

Your eyes widened, your mouth moving to speak, but the words were lost. In reality, you didn’t know how to say you wanted that too.

“I don't want you to leave. We… work well together,” he confessed.

You sat up, heart hammering in your chest as you stared at him, and nodded. “Okay, I'll stay.”

There were a lot of things the two of you had to work on, but you were glad this wasn't the end.

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fluff #din djarin x you #din djarin fluff #mando x reader

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resi4skz · 1 year ago

Text

Title: Starstruck (pt2)

Pairings: idol!Chan x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, bike s*x

‼️MDNI‼️

Part 1 , Part 3

"Right in here, please," I say as I put a checkmark on the list of things to put away before closing the bakery. "I need everything to go smoothly as possible on Monday."

"Why are you so snappy?"

I turn, giving Luna a confused look. "I'm not snappy."

"Uh huh," she rolls her eyes as she took off her apron. "Let's go before you start hyperventilating about seeing their fanmeet in about," she glances at her wrist watch, "3 hours."

"I don't know what to wear."

"Alright. Let's go."

"Where we going?"

---------------------------------------------------------

We arrived at the venue an hour earlier and we showed the tickets to the vendor. "Ah, right this way please." He leads us to a different enterance and I glance at the back, seeing others standing in line with merch.

"But-"

"Ma'am, these are VIIP tickets. It gives you access to backstage."

"Okay. He's definitely going in the good books," Luna says smiling.

"Jeez, how much do you think he spent of these tickets?"

"Honestly? Probably a lot, but who knows?" She shrugs her shoulders. "Maybe he got them knowing you were coming."

Fuck. How do you expect to me to act after knowing this information?

We walk around the staff and stand just right to the main stage. The butterflies in my stomach right now is nothing compared to what it would've been watching them from the front. This was their 4th fanmeet and I couldn't have been more happier for them. They have achieved so much in the past 6 years.

"Okay, wow. This is awesome," Luna says, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Are you sure I'm wearing the right clothes?"

"Yes, now stop fussing over it!"

She made me wear a black corset with black skirt, boots and a leather jacket. My hair was down in loose curls. Okay, maybe she does have some taste.

"Hey, you made it."

I turn around and I'm again blown away by he man in front of me. He was wearing a blue coat and pants with white shirt underneath, topped with black boots. And his hair was styled in a wavy look. And damn, he looked good. "I hope no one gave you trouble coming inside?"

"Uh, no. Everything went smoothly," I replied. I felt a poke on my arm. "Ah, right. This is my best friend, Luna."

"Oh, hi Luna. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah," she waves nervously at him. I roll my eyes. Why did I even bring her with me?

Then more guys appear behind him. Oh my god. It's them. Leeknow, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and I.N. The whole gang is here. Holy cannolli. This isn't real life.

"Alright, we gotta go. It's time for us to go on the stage," Chan states. For a second, I felt his eyes trail over me, my attire but he turned around and walked away with the group. I blinked, asking myself what happened.

But he turned around and walked straight to me. He takes my hand and says, "I'll see you later?"

I nod.

He smiles, his dimples on display. He leans in, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. "See you later, babygirl," he says, winking at me before sprinting back.

"Did he just....kiss you on the cheek? Wait. Am I dreaming?" Luna pinches her arm and hisses in pain. "Definitely not dreaming. Holy shit."

Holy shit was right.

Because their fanmeet was a success. They played small games, did dance challenges, did a lot of performances and by the end of it all, they were still happy and energetic. I don't think I've ever seen them be this happy before.

And their performances? Just wow. And with Chan in a sleeveless top? Those arms made me weak in the knees. "Stop drooling."

I sigh, feeling those butterflies again. "Luna, I'm not drooling."

"Is it me or is he only looking at you?"

"Who?" I asked as I follow the direction she pointed at. He's smiling, but his eyes show something else, something desperate as he looks at me. He disappears in the back rooms, probably to change and freshen up.

"Okay. You have my permission," Luna nods.

"Permission?" I blinked at her.

"To get thoroughly fucked by h-oompf."

I cover her mouth with my hand. "Are you insane?!"

She pries my hand off. "Do you not want to? You do know who he is, even as the biker tiktok dude."

"I knew I shouldn't have told you that."

"Hey, I would've found out either way. But the question still remains."

"Which is?"

"Do you like him? Enough to take you, sweep you off your feet?"

"I mean yeah, but-"

"Oh. Here he comes."

He walks over, wearing all black. Very similar clothing to mine. "Ready?"

"Uh, are we leaving?"

"Yes. You and me. I wanna take you for a ride."

I look at Luna then back at him. I feel her hand on my back, giving me a little push. He grabs my hand, intertwining it with his own as we walk away, sprint more like, away from the book. "Wait. What about the res-" He stops, turns around and cups my face, he takes advantage of my surprised expression and swoops in for a kiss. When he pulls away, he smiles down at me before grabbing my hand again and walking outside.

What just happened?

---------------------------------------------------------

*CHAN'S POV*

The roar of the engine filled the night air as I zoomed down the empty road, the darkness engulfing me like a comforting shroud. The pair of gloves hands around my waist felt more comfortable than riding my bike alone. Her hands were small but god, did they feel good against me.

My headlights cut through the blackness ahead, illuminating the twisting road as it disappeared into the distance. The cool night air whipped against my helmet, the only sound besides the thundering of the engine. I was going to the place I had found a few weeks ago, where I could be this tiktok personality I made for myself.

I felt her arms tightened around me. Maybe she wasn't used to bike rides? Flashes of streetlights and neon signs painted the surroundings in streaks of light, blurring past in a colorful whirlwind. The occasional silhouette of a building or tree flashed by, casting eerie shadows in my path.

As I leaned into the curves, the sensation of speed combined with the solitude of the empty road created a thrilling sense of freedom. But with her behind me, it was more than freedom. I had been waiting for this day. I wanted to see her again because when I dropped her off at her place the other day, all I wanted to do was rip off that dress she wore.

It was then I knew that I was fucked. 100% fully fucked.

The city lights glimmered in the distance, a distant beacon guiding us on our journey through the night. In that moment, it was just me, my bike, Y/N and the open road stretching out before us—an endless expanse of possibility and adventure.

As I take a turn, I felt her hands wandering. Any lower, it would be dangerous territory. I grab her hand and squeeze. A warning. But as I speed off into the highway, her hands slide down low. Lower. Until they've reached their destination.

The little minx.

Through my tight jeans, she uses her hands to grab my clothed dick and gives it a rub. Fuck. My hand tightens as I try to maintain my hormones at bay level till we were at the destination.

5 minutes.

She gives it another rub and I almost crash. This is going to be harder than I thought.

4 minutes.

I swerve into the left lane, as the traffic was faster and I wanted nothing more to reach the location faster than I had originally planned.

3 minutes.

I groan as her hands slide up and down a bit quicker. I grip her hand, stopping it.

2 minutes.

Reaching around my back, I find her ass cheek and gives it squeeze. Hard. I feel her jerk towards my back.

1 minute.

Taking a left turn, I see the familiar abandoned cliff as her hand reaches down again. I curse as I increase the speed of my bike. I need to get there faster.

30 seconds.

Slowing down the bike, I, very gently, park the bike.

15 seconds.

Turning off the ignition, I wait till she's off the bike. Then I climb off, unbuckle the clasp of my helmet before taking it off as she also takes her helmet off.

5 seconds.

I stare at her till she's composed herself. Then I'm on her.

*Y/N POV*

I don't get time to breathe as he's on me within seconds, our helmets long forgotten on the ground. Lips and teeth clashing as his hands slide around my back, giving it a slight push towards him. I felt his hardness on my lower tummy. "Wait," I lightly push him away. "I need to breathe."

His delicious mouth travels down to my jaw and neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. "Mmm, Channie," I moan as he sucks and bites a spot on my neck.

"You little minx," he breathes against my mouth. His hands travels to my hair and grabs a bunch before yanking on it lightly making my head tilt up a bit. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

"I may know on some leve-, ah," I let out a yelp when he yanks on my hair.

"Brat." He growls, attacking my neck with wet kisses and biting the delicate skin. "I had to tell the boys I was going for my nightly rides," he gives a long sniff before coming up. "But they don't know I was going with you."

Fuck.

I'm then hoisted up on the bike as he settles himself between my legs and kisses me again. His kisses are desperate and dominating. I reach for his jeans when his hands grab my arm. "Nuh uh, baby." He makes me stand and spins me around. "I need to be inside you."

"But, ah!" I moan as his palm makes contact with my right ass cheek as he bends me over.

He wastes no time and removes my black panties from under my skirt. "Damn. You're perfect." I hear something ripping which I think was a condom wrapper.

And then, in one swift motion, he snaps his hips into me. My eyes roll back in my head as I groan at his girth, feeling the stretch. "Fuck," I groan. I've imagined this moment in my delusional mind but this was beyond my dreams. "How are you this big?"

"Fuck, you're so tight," he moans as he pulls out completely before snapping his hips against me. "This cunt was made for me, fuck you feel so good."

"Chan."

He gradually picks up speed as his hand travel around my waist towards my throbbing clit. The only sound you could hear was our heavy breathing, into the darkness surrounding us. I felt the tight knot in my lower belly ready to burst. "Chan, please."

"Fuck, yes!" He grunts, now slamming into me. "You're close, aren't you? You gonna cum? You gonna cum for me?"

I nod my head. "Yes!"

His fingers rubs my clit and I see stars in front of my eyes as my climax hits me the hardest, my legs shaking but he doesn't stop. "Oh, fuck. Fuck, you're gonna make me cum. I'm gonna cum." His hips ram into me a few more times before he stills, spilling his seed into the rubber.

We stay like that for a few minutes, catching our breaths. He finally pulls out and I groan at the odd feeling. I try to move but my legs refused to budge. "Uhm."

I hear him zipping up his jeans. "You okay?"

"I can't move."

"What?"

"My legs."

He softly chuckles as he walks over and grabs both my arms, lifting me up. I shriek. "Put me down!"

"Hold still!"

He turns me around and puts me on the bike with my legs hanging over. Placing his hands on the lower part of my legs, he gently starts massging them. "Good?"

"Hmm," I savour the feeling coming back to my legs. "You should've started with this first."

"Oh, really?"

The nerve of this guy, showing me his dimples. "I'm a sucker for massages."

"Noted," he says as he comes up, face to face. "Say, what are you doing next weekend?"

"Why, you wanna take me a on a date?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem?"

"Well, considering how this date went, I might agree to it."

"Brat," he pecks my lips before he picks up the helmets and hands me mine. "You're more than welcome to feel me up again once we're on the road."

My cheeks heat, my blush making its permanent stay on my entire face. "Wha....I wasn't feeling you up!"

"Uh huh," he says wearing his helmet and grins turning his head towards me. "And I didn't give you the best sex of your life just now."

I narrow my eyes at him as I hop off to let him sit first. As he turns on the ignition, I climb on behind him. He grabs my hands and places them around his waist. And the we were off, into the same darkness that surrounded us mere minutes ago.

Who knew I would be startstruck by the guy I watched on my laptop and phone was interested in me? And the biker dude? Oh man. If only the world knew what we just did.....

A/N: wtf did I just write 💀

#bang chan #christopher bang #stray kids bang chan #chris bang #stray kids #bang chan fanfic #fanfic #skz #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #bang chan x reader

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avocadish0w0 · 4 months ago

Note

A Christmas Fright: one of their cats run off and they end up finding them curdled up with a stray cat's kittens to help keep them warm.

Modern AU

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Grian's POV

During a peaceful snowy Christmas Eve night, the fireplace inside the cozy house crackled in unison with the soft footsteps on the dark wood floor as I called out my boyfriend for dinner, a wide smile on my face "Hey! Scar! Dinner's ready!", the soft clink of a cane echoes through the room as he walks down the stairs "Hello there, songbird." He walks up to me, placing a gentle peck on my lips, the feeling soft and warm, a contrast to the cold weather outside, "Have you seen Jellie around? Her food is already on her bowl but I haven't seen her yet..." Scar asks, concerned, the worry evident in his vibrant green eyes "Actually now that you mention, I didn't see her at all, Maui and Pearl have been sleeping near the heater in our room all day, I thought she was in the backyard..." My brows furrow, knowing how much Jellie matters to him

We spend some time looking for the cat, calling her name, for half an hour, yet, no response, or even a glimpse of her gray fur, I could see the hopelessness in Scar's eyes, and it shattered my heart, I looked out the window, the snow falling slowly, trying to come up with an idea "Hey, Scar... Wanna look outside? Maybe she's hidden somewhere because of the snow." I suggest, looking back at him, his eyes sparkling "Well, what are we waiting for?! C'mon! What if she's freezing!?" He immediately started putting on his coat and getting his shoes, I sighed and put on my scarf, putting on my boots and taking our beanies "Scar, darling, calm down, we're going to find her" I say as I cradle his face in my hands, putting his beanie on his head "Trust me." I look in his eyes, kissing him softly, earning a soft nod in response, and taking a flashlight.

I open the door, flicking the flashlight on and looking around "She might be nearby still, eyes open for any signs" I step out, Scar following close behind with some small blankets "Jellie! Baby! Are you there??" He calls out, almost making me chuckle, I walk with him on the sidewalk, out footsteps muffled by the soft crunching of the snow under us "Jellie!? Pspspspspsps!" I take off one of my gloves, snapping my fingers. We spent some minutes searching around, I was already losing the last bit of hope I had "Scar, let's go home, the snow is getting thicker..." I place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it "But- what if she's still out there? She might be scared! Or cold! Or hurt! Or-"

'Meow'

"Babe, calm down! She's-" i paused, feeling his hand on top of mine "G, did you hear that?-"

'Meow'

I recognised that meowing from miles away, I looked at Scar, seeing him already looking at me, which confirmed that we weren't going crazy

"That's Jellie..."

"That's Jellie!"

We said at the same time, running as fast as we could not to slip, following the meows, the closer we got, more two high pitched meows joined in.

I turned in an alleyway, seeing Jellie curled up in a cardboard box "Jellie! Finally-" my gaze drifted to the two small kittens curled up next to her, maybe twins "Scar! Come see this!" I call out for him, watching him run to me, his eyes glowing under the streetlights "Did you find her- awwwwwww!!" He immediately crouched down next to the box, already going to pet Jellie and the kittens, who were surprisingly docile and shy "Griiii! Can we keep them??" He looks at me like a child at a candy store "Scar! We already have three cats!" I sigh, already knowing I'll give in and take the cats anyway "I know but look at them!" He pull me closer, the kitties were indeed adorable, I couldn't deny it "Oh my goodness, fine! We can keep them! C'mon, pick them up and I'll get Jellie" I take one of the blankets and pick Jellie up, wrapping her in the blanket and cradling her close to my chest "Next time don't give your dad a heart attack, girlie" I smirk at the cat in my arms, walking behind my boyfriend.

After we got home, Scar cleaned and fed the kitties by the fireplace, playing with them with some toys from Pearl, he was smiling from ear to ear, I couldn't help but stare, committing every small detail about him to memory "What are you naming them?" I ask, smiling warmly "This little missy here," he points to the female kitten in his lap "She's going to be...." He thinks for a while "Katy Bee!" He picked her up carefully, lifting her above him, making me chuckle "Katy Bee it is then, what about that troublemaker by the tree?" I point at the other kitten, a male, that was playing with one of the ornaments from the base of the tree "He looks like Finnegan." Scar nods "What do you mean? He's like, a copy paste from Katy Bee! Just male!" I laugh, Maui meowing next to me, judging the kitties, I walk to the living room, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate, handing his and sitting down on the couch, relaxing as Scar tries to defend Finnegan's name.

This was one heck of a rollercoaster... Thanks Santa...

===============================

Oh God, I actually managed to post it in time!

Anyway, happy holidays my darlings!! Be safe wherever you are!

Lux out!!

#grian #hermitcraft #desert duo #gtws #trafficshipping #desertduo #christmas fic #merry christmas #cats #katy bee #Finnegan #goodtimeswithscar #maui #pearl #jellie the cat #rest in peace Jellie

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ac-19 · 5 months ago

Text

Christmas in New York - J. Hill (Blue Bloods)

Requested: yes

summary: it's your first christmas in new york and joe wants it to be perfect except his job can be unpredictable sometimes.

I stood outside the skating rink in Central Park, watching people skate around in a circle as I waited for Joe to meet me here. This was my first Christmas in New York and I had been taking everything in and loving every second of it and Joe vowed to make it even more special, but sometimes his job pulled him away from things and I was beginning to suspect that this is what happened tonight since he hadn't responded to any of my texts.

I checked my phone one more time before before I texted Joe and told him that I was heading back to my apartment.

Joe was one of the first people I met when I moved to New York after I got my dream job as a Labour and Delivery Nurse here and we instantly clicked. We started seeing each other regularly at our local coffee shop which eventually led us to start dating and it had been nothing but wonderful. I understood his job was important and crime never stopped just like he understood that sometimes I had to cancel our plan to stay with a labouring mother so I wasn't mad but I was starting to get cold so I grabbed a cab back to my apartment and headed inside.

I made myself a cup of hot chocolate and curled up under a blanket on the couch and put on a cheesy Hallmark movie.

I woke up to someone knocking on my door and I furrowed my eyebrows as I sat up and saw sunlight peeking through my curtains. What time is it?

I grabbed my phone which sat on the coffee table and my eyes widened when I realized we were the next morning. I quickly pushed myself up off the couch and walked over to the door and pulled open revealing a very tired looking Joe.

"Im so sorry."

I chuckled.

"Crime doesn't stop just because I want to go stroll around New York City and look at Christmas lights? Who knew?"

"You're not mad?"

I shook my head.

"Not in the slightest. Come in, I'll make you some coffee."

Joe smiled as he walked into my apartment and kicked off his dirty boots by the front door before he followed me to the kitchen. He took his leather jacket off and drapped it on the back of the couch before he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist and laid his head down on my shoulder.

"What about tonight?"

"Im working the night shift."

Joe sighed.

"I really wanted to make this happen for you."

I nodded as I turned the coffee maker on before I turned around and slipped my arms around Joe's neck.

"There is still two weeks before Christmas you can still make this happen you know that right?"

He nodded and smiled.

"You're perfect you know that?"

I smiled.

"So I've been told."

A week and a half went by before Joe and I had the same night off and he really made the most of it. He showed up to my place at 2 in the afternoon and that's when our crazy busy day started.

From Christmas shopping to ice skating to ending our night with a carriage ride around Central Park, I had to say this was one of the best day's I've had in a long time.

"Thank you for today Joe, it was amazing."

I smiled.

"You're amazing. You deserve all this and more."

"You're pretty great too."

Joe chuckled as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to my temple. The words "I love you" lingered on the tip of my tongue but Joe must of read my mind because he shocked me by saying it first.

"I love you."

I was so stunned that I forget how words work but the worried look on Joe's face made me snap back into reality.

"I know it's soon but..."

"Say it again."

"I love you."

I smiled.

"I love you too Joe Hill."

#blue bloods #joe hill #joe hill x reader #joe hill imagines #joe hill imagine #blue bloods imagines

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seeingstarks · 2 years ago

Text

the cream on the cake wants to escape

summary : being newly signed to all elite wrestling, you don't know many people and expect no one to show up to your birthday party but end up with company of the devil himself and mr. best in the world. pairing : mjf x cm punk x plus size afab!reader cw : cursing, many sexual innuendos, teasing, breast grabbing/kneading, daddy/babygirl/daddy dynamic, implied cmjf references, thigh riding, cock/clit teasing, begging, male masturbation, blowjobs, dirty talk, double penetration, creampies, butt-plugs, slight bondage, ass slapping, utter filth. a/n : my birthday is in three days and with cm punk coming back soon i just had to whip something up also i love cmjf but basically this is something small i made for myself. i hope you all enjoy it though and as always reblogs are very much appreciated!! my ask box might be open soon for drabbles as i'm slowly getting the inspo for writing again. <3 there may be a few spelling/punctuation errors. word count : 2,518 words tag list : @josiewrites , @baysexuality

some of the talent backstage had their suspicions when you became apart of bullet club gold in just a matter of months after being signed to all elite wrestling.

the rumours began to spread, hushed whispers down the halls the moment you left a room. there was no getting away from your ex - however none of them knew what actually happened.

you carefully hand-wrote each invitation to your birthday party being held later that night, allowing everyone to bring a plus one. in each envelope corner you curled a cursive letter heart with your initials on it.

not knowing many people at all elite, you felt doubt that anyone would come. if you had known more people maybe they would have thrown you a surprise party instead of doing one for yourself.

with a sigh you sat down at catering after grabbing a boxed cupcake juice robinson gave you earlier but didn't have time to sit down and eat until now.

glancing around, not many seemed to even care or notice it was your birthday. they were either too wrapped up in their own lives or didn't see you sitting all alone.

pulling out a lighter from your jacket pocket you attempted to ignite the flame a few times but had no luck. "seriously, the one time where things go to absolute shit and it's my birthday!?" you cursed out weight shifting as you felt someone's presence next to you.

anyone but him. "how is my switchblade babe doin', aye? need a light?" jay questioned with a smirk before pulling out his lighter and igniting the candle on the cupcake as if it were nothing.

you rolled your eyes before even taking a glance at jay, "didn't need your help, and don't call me that. we're not together anymore. don't even know why we're in a stable together." you crossed your arms at your ex.

"wow.. last time i help a friend out. well, i'll leave ya' be then." jay stood up and walked away while you took the wrapper off your cupcake and took a bite from the sweet treat.

a single tear fell down from the corner of your eyelid, today of all days you felt most lonely. the salty liquid ran all the way down to your lips and you didn't want anyone to see you crying. luckily bullet club gold wouldn't be needing the locker room today as you booked it and locked the door behind you.

the rest of the day seemed to go by at an agonizingly slow pace, you began to set up pastel decorations and blew up a few balloons as the clock ticked down nearing the time for guests to arrive.

walking into the washroom, you fixed up your h/c hair and brushed it off to the side while fixing your black dress which hugged your curves perfectly. not having the time to put a bra on or even caring about it, you shrugged while looking in the mirror and threw a light jean jacket on over the dress while slipping on a pair of combat boots, comfort and style.

once ready, you took a seat on the sofa and waited a good ten minutes before someone knocked on the door, "coming!!"

once seeing who was in your doorway your mouth fell agape, so many questions filling your mind but words unable to form.

"you 'gonna just stand there or welcome me in, i'll move ya' if i have too." shaking your head, you simply giggled and stepped aside.

"how- when- where?" you questioned and raised an eyebrow while looking the chicago native up and down who did indeed age like fine wine.

"okay.. see lemme' explain. me and uh- let's say a co-worker of mine paid off the others not to come in order for you to have a special night, that is... if you want."

you punched phil on the chest, who didn't flinch the slightest. the chicago native pretending to be hurt and scrunching up his face, "ouch that hurt soooo much."

"i was crying earlier and this so called co-worker of yours is nowhere to be seen!" you yelled at him and punched the man once again.

"shhh, babygirl. there he is." your eyes left his and looked up to meet with a pair of dark hues belonging to the devil himself who locked the door behind him.

"aw, are you two getting started without me?" maxwell asked.

gulping thickly you hid you your face in the crook of the chicago native's neck, your cheeks starting to heat up the moment phil wrapped his large hands around your waist and gave a slight squeeze.

"so brave before and now look at her hiding... we're gonna' have fun with you tonight, such a shy doll isn't that right?" maxwell taunted and approached the two of you, the heat of his breath running down your own neck sending chills down your spine, "but tonight is all about the birthday girl.. tomorrow me and phil have our fun.. that is if you can still walk by the time we're done."

stepping away from phil momentarily, you allowed him to still hold your hips as you looked up at him with a soft smile. "well... i've always wanted to try thigh riding.." you admitted shyly while glancing between the two men as they each shared a knowing look which could only mean trouble.

"oh? whose thigh do you wanna ride first?" phil pulled you in closer, rubbing his hands along your curves and pressing his growing hard on up against you, "look what you're doing to me already baby.."

maxwell smirked as another pair of hands went behind your figure, going under your shirt and massaging your breasts as you let out a soft moan for the devil, "fuck- not wearing a bra, is that just for daddy?" he asked and pinched your nipples causing a whine to escape your lips all at the same time when phil brushed the tip of his cock up against your clothed entrance.

"n-no it mm- happened by coincidence but i will make sure to wear em' less for both my daddies." you responded with a grin.

"did you hear that phil? she's got two daddies now- will be fun adding a chick into our little adventures, hm?" max questioned the chicago native who simply nodded as the two men continued to tease you.

throwing your head back you let out another moan, your underwear soaked at this point simply by the fact of phil teasing your clothed clit with his cock and maxwell tormenting your breasts with his hands, kneading at them as your nipples hardened under his touch, "more daddy- please-" you begged and took a sharp breath.

lifting your arms up, maxwell helped rid you of the black dress and phil briefly picked you up off your feet to slip the combat boots which were discarded haphazardly toward the floor.

you looked down and attempted to take your underwear off which caused phil to shake his head, "not yet, baby. don't think we forget about your little request."

phil took his clothing off and laid back on the sofa, luring you over with a finger wave as you straddled his thigh he pushed his knee up against your clit.

"go ahead and get off on my thigh, babygirl." your cheeks heated up once given permission as you began to ride his thigh, soft whimpers and moans already falling from your lips at the friction being created from your underwear.

"look at you.. soaked already and you haven't even had a cock inside you yet. just imagine how messy you're gonna be with both me and max inside you." the mere thought of what phil just said caused you to ride his thigh even faster, the moans becoming louder, your attention being adverted for a moment as you looked over in the corner to see maxwell jerking himself off in the chair, "don't stop doll, 'wanna watch." he spoke with a pant and you kept eye contact with maxwell while moaning out, "mmm-fuck!"

you were clearly falling apart on the chicago native, his cock hard while watching the curved beauty above him get off on just his thigh. "daddy- i'm so close-" you whined and grinded up against the man before making even more of a mess in your underwear.

"fuck- i'm close too babygirl-" maxwell spoke in broken breaths and phil gave you the okay to leave his thigh but not before he took your underwear as a sort of token to his accomplishments.

you crawled off the sofa, ass in the air which was definitely a sight to see for phil as your clit was still soaked from moments before. you dropped down to your knees infront of maxwell who had cum already dripping from the tip of his cock.

you stuck your tongue out and gave him kitten licks, looking up at maxwell with hooded eyes as his hands wrapped around in your hair and tugged gently while you took more of his length in and sucked lovingly. the man was already edging himself so it didn't take long for him to fill the entirety of your mouth with his warm seed, "i forgot to buy cake but that was some good as hell frosting." you smirked and wiped the remainder of the cum off your lips.

"always more where that came from, baby. however when the clock strikes midnight we get to have fun our way."

"what does your way entail exactly, phil?" you asked in a shy tone.

"well.. let's just say instead of crying over a stupid ex it will be because of overstimulation or.." phil looked around the room, a smirk growing on his lips, "cause we tied you up with this pastel ribbon. all depends if you're a good girl for us or not. isn't that right?"

you nodded your head, "yes sir, but i rather like that idea."

maxwell stood up from the chair and approached you, "what do you say we try it out tonight?"

you nodded your head so fast if you were a bobble head it would have popped off, eager to have more fun with the two men. "yes, pretty please."

"oh.. look how desperate she is to be tied up and filled with two cocks... think she can handle us both at the same time?" maxwell asked phil.

"let's find out and see."

phil picked you up and carried you to the sofa, placing kisses on each wrist before tying them together with pastel ribbon.

"ass up, legs spread." maxwell used a demanding tone of voice which had you dripping, he ran his fingers along your folds, "such a good girl already. prepared for the devil to corrupt you?" it wasn't a question, more of a warning as he slid into your entrance, giving you little time to adjust in attempts to grasp at the sofa.

"fuck, such a beautiful sight. look at her already clenching onto you so tight max.." phil hummed and entered himself slowly into your asshole, nearly hissing at how tight you were.

"p-phil- you're huge!" you yelled out, head barely able to think of a single thought while being stuffed full of two humongous cocks.

phil slapped you on the ass while entering the rest of his cock into you slowly as maxwell started to thrust, "that's daddy to you, got it?"

"uh-mhmm! yes daddy!" words became incoherent mumbles once the two men picked up speed, both making sure you were okay but at the same time whispering absolute filth into your ears as you clenched around their lengths as if your life depended on it.

"f-fuckk! you both feel amazing!" grunts and groans alike fell from both their lips and you could've sworn you heard them both call each other daddy, leaving you to wonder what they did in the midnight hour before adding a woman into the mix. you were never one to judge but with you there it was three times the charm.

the moans became increasingly louder as they pounded into you relentlessly, you'd all probably end up with a noise complaint sooner or later.

"go ahead and cum babygirl.. we can feel how close you are." you felt the heat of the chicago native's breath up against your ear, "yes sir." the flood gates were open as you came around maxwell's cock and he released inside of you while phil did the same. the three of you continued to ride out the high but you were the most worn out.

phil was the first to pull out as cum dripped from his tip all the way down from your asshole, "i was 'gonna save this for later but.. you should open it now." he handed you a small black box wrapped with a gold bow, the contents inside being a butt-plug.

your eyes went wide as you looked over at the chicago native, "what am i supposed to do with this?"

"think y'know.. sweetheart.. want you to sleep with it in as a reminder who owns that ass." he smirked and took the plug from your hand before inserting it inside your body.

"y-yes sir, thank you for the gift daddy." you placed a kiss to the chicago native's lips which he then returned and nipped at your lower lip, leaving you to want more.

maxwell had been keeping you warm in a way with his cock as you felt him continue to twitch inside you, a whine falling from your lips when he pulled out aswell.

"don't worry baby. there is much more where that came from." maxwell revealed a brown gift bag with the words burberry inscribed on the outside.

you sat back on the couch, still panting a bit while opening the gift from max which was a matching set of burberry lingerie in just your size, on the side was a pair of angel ears.

pouting you looked between the two men and they each furrowed their eyebrows, "what's wrong, baby?"

"just wanted something to keep this cum inside me. love being full of both my daddies icing like a cake." you grinned up at them as phil had something hid behind his back, a matching plug to the one gifted, "you're in luck."

yawning, the night activities started to take a toll on you so you got dressed in the lingerie which would surely be torn apart by morning and you kept the chicago native's gifts quite warm aswell.

once returning from the washroom, maxwell and phil were in their boxers and you cuddled up between them on the sofa before shutting your eyes as they each placed a kiss to your cheek.

"how was your birthday?" maxwell asked as you rested against his shoulder and you scratched the chicago native's beard softly, noticing him start to drift off toward slumber with your loving touch.

"best birthday ever. thank you both so much. now get some sleep, knuckleheads."

phil slapped your ass playfully in response, "goodnight, babygirl."

#mjf #cm punk #maxwell jacob friedman #cmjf #mjf x reader #mjf x female reader #mjf x fem reader #cm punk x female reader #cm punk x fem reader #mjf smut #cm punk smut #aew smut #all elite wrestling #aew #cm punk (gn)#all elite wrestling smut #wrestling fanfiction

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future-dregs · 2 months ago

Text

Sam's face is a fury when he leaves. Too hurt and angry to talk any longer the slamming door speaks for him, duffle slung over his shoulder, hard won money stuffed deep in his pockets, wood splintering around the doorjamb as he turns his feet towards California.

John stares at the closed door, stiff flushed and rigid. Absolutely motionless until he suddenly whips an empty beer bottle, fastball slick, against the door. Glass shards go everywhere. Dean flinches, but catches one above the eye.

This whole time he hasn't said a word. Sam and John fought like mad dogs, vicious and cruel, going for the vulnerable underbelly. He feels their eyes when they flash over to him, waiting for his usual mediation, the hand on their collars to pull them away from each other's teeth.

But he doesn't say anything, do anything.

Sam said he was going to college, and Dean felt proud. But then he said he was leaving and Dean felt sick and John said "NO" and Sam came back with "it's my life! And I want to live it!" And then he and John got louder and louder and the hurt started to bleed into their argument and Dean knew exactly where it was all going to end but he sat in that fucking chair and his head went between his legs and he stared at a crack in the floor until it was all over and he didn't say a word.

"You could've made him stay."

John's voice is caustic, betrayed.

"If you'd just said a DAMN thing!"

Dean still doesn't look up. His breath comes shallow.

He listens to John's boots crunch the glass, the pained rumble of the Impala as she peels out, slinging gravel and far too light.

He sweeps the shards, moving heavy and slow. He can't do a thing about the door.

He runs his head under the cold faucet until he can't feel his ears and then curls up wet and dripping on Sam's side of the bed.

He calls Sam's number and it goes straight to voicemail. There's a long pause before Dean can get the words out, hoping Sam will listen through the static till the end.

"Call me back, Sam. Please? I'll talk this time."

Another pause, shorter cause he's running out of time before-

"Love ya, Sammy. Be careful."

He flips the phone shut and twists his fingers in the cord of his necklace until the tips go white. Hopes Sam will call back before their dad gets home. Hopes Dad doesn't crash the car, or go chase down Sam. Hopes he doesn't ever make this mistake again.

#Dean Winchester #Supernatural #📒

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dustmusings · 9 months ago

Text

technical devotion, part two: boundaries

content warnings: none :)

last chapter | next chapter | master list | join the taglist

Kan had been at the rebel compound for a week, and she was itching for more exciting prospects to come about. Thus far, she had only really worked on small projects, specific things that needed fixing like comms and datapads, and she hoped that soon her expertise could be used to its full potential. She was still grateful to be in the position she was, and was pleased to be helping at all in the first place.

She had acquainted herself with Rex and Gregor the most, and Echo by proxy, though he didn't go out of his way to talk to her at all. She found Gregor to be extremely fun and charming, and Rex was very personable as well. She hadn't really talked to many of the clones apart from them, as she often kept to herself, holing up in her ‘office’ until it was time to eat or sleep. Though, that was nothing new, she had always operated like that.

Echo was still trying to become acclimatised to the addition of this new woman to his small circle of brothers he considered to be close to him. He didn't mind Kan's presence, but it still made him uneasy, and he often didn't know what to say to her, particularly around his brothers. He ended up keeping to himself more than he usually would. She would always greet him with a smile and he was polite and acknowledged her presence, but didn't stretch their interactions much beyond that.

Echo was on his way back to the barracks for the night, passing by the door to Kan's office, as he heard a distinct “Ouch” hissed from behind it. His curiosity got the better of him, and he knocked firmly on the door a few times.

“Come in” Kan's voice called, an irritated edge to it.

Echo opened the door, taking in the sight. The room was still a mess, piles of junk and both unusable and salvageable spare parts strewn about the place, and Kan was sat on the chair at the centre of it. She was slumped back, her spine curled up and her boot heels hanging on to the edge of the seat, the only thing stopping her from slipping off. She was fiddling with a small component in her hands, her eyes focused and eyebrows furrowed from behind a pair of large round glasses.

“Everything alright?” He said, addressing the cry of pain he had heard moments before.

“Oh, Echo, hi” Kan looked up and pushed the glasses onto her head, sitting up straighter, “Yeah, this is just a bit fiddly, it keeps- ow!” She shook out her hand and looked to him sheepishly, “Pinching me”

Echo had to supress a smile, “Alright, I'll leave you to it then” He spoke, his hand on the doorframe as he moved away.

“Wait!” Kan shouted out suddenly, and he pushed himself back into the doorway with a slight raise of his brow, “Sorry, I just wanted to run something by you, one minute”

Echo stayed silent as Kan knelt down, rummaging through various piles.

“Where is it?” She said under her breath, looking around and moving to another pile. She took a wad of tangled wires and threw them behind her, and Echo almost winced at the heavy thud as they smacked into the far wall.

“Ah, here it is” She pulled out a datapad and expertly navigated her way through the mess and over to Echo, “I drew this up for you. It's just the basic idea, but I was wondering if it would be something you were interested in”

Echo was certainly intrigued by her words, but his heart fell from his chest as he took the datapad from her and looked at what was on it. It was blueprints for some sort of attachment for his scomp arm, so that he would have a hand where his real flesh one used to be.

Kan watched Echo's reaction with worry, and felt the need to explain herself as he stared at her plans with a blank expression.

“Sorry it's a bit crude, I’ve never been the best at drawing” She spoke nervously, and she saw Echo's throat bob as he swallowed hard. “You'd still be able to use your scomp of course, it's just an attachment, but you'd be able to use it like a real hand” She continued, feeling herself rambling, her words falling over each other in her hurried speech.

Echo said nothing, and handed the datapad back to her, turning and walking away from her swiftly. Kan's cheeks flushed a good few shades deeper. She felt so embarrassed.

Kan slumped into the mess late the next morning, her head feeling heavy with her lack of sleep. She had remained in her office long past her usual bed time, finding anything she could to fix up so as to keep her mind from the mortification of Echo ignoring her simple act of compassion. She had only wished to try to connect with him in some way, and she had tried the only way she knew how; through her work.

When she had retired to the barracks, everybody was already asleep, and the sun had already begun to cast a gentle blue light through the windows. She had slid into her sheets, thankful for the sleeping form of Echo in the bunk next to her, and had finally allowed sleep to take her. Little did she know, Echo's nights were almost always sleepless, and he had heard her come in at the early hour of the morning.

“You look rough” Rex commented, taking a sip of caf.

“Why thank you” Kan joked, taking her seat opposite the clones but making sure to sit further away from Echo than she usually did.

“Bad night's sleep?”

“Mhm. Something like that”

Echo watched her slow and tired movements with intrigue, wondering what had kept her up so long the night before. She hadn't gotten any food, and instead poured herself a large cup of caf, taking a sizable gulp of it and then staring down into the brown liquid.

“There's something I was wondering about” Rex stated, gaining Kan’s attention once more, “Do you think you would you be able to build a device that would allow us to intercept long range comms? We have satellites and other technology that connects us to the wider galaxy, but having something like that could really give us an edge in the operation we're running here”

Kan's eyes lit up at the prospect of it, “Yeah I'm sure I could drum that up pretty easily”

“Really? I wasn’t sure if it was a big ask or not”

“No, its simple really, it will just take me a bit of time and fiddling about with satellite reception. All I will need is parts, but now I think of it, there's definitely a number of things I'll need already in my room”

“Okay that's good then, let me know the parts you don't have and I'll see what I can find”

Echo finished his food shortly after the conversation came to a lull, and left the table without saying a word. Kan let out a deep sigh as she watched him leave, which Rex took notice of.

“Do you know if there’s a particular reason why Echo doesn’t like me?”

“Oh, I’m sure he does, he’s just a bit weary of new people” Rex replied sincerely.

“Right” Kan took another large sip of her caf with furrowed brows, “I tried to show him my designs for a hand attachment for his scomp arm but he just… didn’t say anything”

“Oh” Rex said quietly, and Gregor sucked a harsh breath between his teeth.

“What is it?” She asked hurriedly.

“Well, I won’t say why, because I’m sure Echo wouldn’t appreciate it, but he doesn’t really like to talk about the parts of him that are… mechanical. The reason he has them… it’s not exactly a happy story”

“Oh no” Kan brought a hand to her mouth as she realised, “I complimented him on it almost immediately after we met, maker I’m so foolish”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know” Rex assured her, “Echo’s very professional, he’ll move on from it if you just forget about it”

Kan nodded, “Okay, I will”

Echo walked into the mess for dinner and got his food, taking a seat at his usual table. All day, him and Rex had been trying to work out the kinks of an upcoming mission, but there were many factors they had to take onto consideration, and so it was looking less and less likely that it was going to be happening any time soon.

Rex and Gregor joined Echo shortly, and they settled into their usual light conversation, trying to keep the more heavy topics for the command room. As dinner drew on, Kan didn't appear, just as she hadn't at lunch time, and Echo couldn't help but wonder why.

Then later as Echo sat down on his bunk, and the one next to him remained empty, he couldn't help the nagging feeling that he should go and see if she was alright. His feet carried him to her door, and he knocked on it once more, hearing a surprised yelp from behind it.

“One moment!” The door whizzed open a second later and Kan was standing right in front of him. He instinctively stepped back. “Echo!” She smiled, “What brings you here?”

“You weren’t at lunch or dinner, I was just checking you were still alive in here” Echo looked around the messy room, it seemed to somehow be a lot messier than it had been when she arrived.

“Oh yeah, I’ve just been pretty focused today” She admitted.

Echo nodded and left, but not before feeling Kan grab onto his arm lightly, “Wait!”. He looked down at the hand on his arm and then back up to her face.

“Sorry” Kan retracted her hand, “I just wanted to apologise for yesterday, I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries”

Echo just took a deep breath, “It’s fine”

“Are you sure?” She looked at him with such intent, and he could see that she really wanted to be forgiven.

“Don’t worry about it” Echo gave her a small smile, and Kan cracked her own grin.

“Okay” She stepped back, and Echo remained in the doorway, “I just finished this, do you want to see if it works?”

“What is it?” He leaned inside, looking for a place to put his feet.

“The long range comms… interceptor, or whatever Rex called it”

“You’ve finished it already?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Well… yeah” She grinned, and Echo smiled a little again as he stepped in.

“Sorry it’s so messy in here” She said as she lead him through the mess, “Please, sit down”

As Kan crouched and began fiddling with the device, tuning it with headphones on, Echo really looked at her for the first time, taking in her features. He noticed the straightness of her brows, the soft curve of her jaw, the slight bump in the bridge of her nose, the way her jet black hair made her olive green skin stand out in the most brilliant way and how the beaded pieces at the front framed her face perfectly. He also dragged his eyes along the scar that stretched across her collarbones, silently wondering how she got such a significant injury.

The device crackled to life, and as Kan looked up to him with a smile he noticed the dark green colour of her eyes.

“Here” She passed him the headphones and he took them from her as her face fell, “Oh I’m sorr-”

“Don’t be” Echo said flatly, and took off his headgear that wrapped around the back of his head.

Kan looked at the piece in awe as Echo placed it down on the desk, very interested in its functionality and inner workings. Echo put the headphones on and listened through them, hearing some chatter.

“Where is this coming from?” He asked, noticing her staring at his head piece.

“Oh! um, looks like it’s between Ryloth and… somewhere in the expansion region, Shili sector maybe” She said, looking to the display on the device.

Echo nodded, listening in to the voices. It was nothing particularly interesting, seemingly just shipping information. He looked up and noticed her staring at his headpiece again, and he smiled faintly at her wonder. He picked it up and handed it to her.

“Are you sure, I don’t want to-”

“Take it” He said softly, and she took it from him slowly, being very gentle and looking over it in awe.

Echo felt his heart swell at someone being so genuinely interested in it rather than confused or disgusted.

“This is really rather amazing, I might have to get one” She smiled up at him, earning one back in return.

Echo handed the headphones back, and Kan swapped them for his headpiece, which he put back in its place. Echo stood up and made his way back to the door. Turning around, he saw that Kan was sat cross-legged in front of the device, tuning it again.

“You should get some sleep”

She looked up to him, mouth hanging open a little, “I’m just going to see if I can find anything interesting before I turn in”

“Alright” He went to leave, stopped again by Kan calling out.

“Echo” She said softly, and he turned back, “Thanks for checking on me”

Echo just nodded in reply and left.

He couldn't help but find Kan’s words and actions completely endearing. She was so gentle with his head attachment, as if it was a real living breathing thing. He could do without her mess, preferring a tidy and organised workspace himself, but he felt that it somehow suited her, and for that he didn't mind it too much. He could feel himself warming to her presence already, and he bit back a smile as he entered the barracks for the night.

#trex writings #bad batch #star wars #arc trooper echo #tbb echo #the bad batch #tbb #echo x oc #clone force 99 #501st battalion #501st legion #clones #echo my beloved

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