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lightdancingwords · 4 days ago

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Second Chances - Part One of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts... and a tiny little roadblock.

Word Count: 2377

Tags/Warnings: None, unless toddlers/children and parenting bother you.

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I couldn't resist--I gotta have me some Beau while writing Dean! This is a brand new story of Beau and female reader!

Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter One: Upon First Sight

All in all, it was a lousy day. Beau’s truck got a flat in the middle of nowhere and the tire proved impossible to take off. He had to pay a small fortune for a tow, additional labor for a replacement, and work was a headache and a half. He was ready for a cold beer, a nice nighttime fire, and the quiet.

But first, he had to get the beer. He’d run out the other day... which meant facing the sheer torture of the grocery store after hours. It was like all of Big Sky decided to go shopping during that time and the sheer crowd drove him insane.

Not to mention everyone and their parents suddenly had to talk to Beau, introduce him to a likely female prospect. It was as though he wore a sign over his head: ‘ATTENTION BIG SKY, SUITABLE SINGLE MALE’. Absolutely maddening. He hated it.

Ever since he and Carla split, he hadn’t been up to dating. Sure, Carla moved on, remarried—god, what a douchebag—and moved to Montana. Which meant he was coming too, because he'd be damned if he missed the last few years of Emily’s life as a teenager.

Somehow, that made him more appealing to the female population. Add to that the ‘exoticness’ of the Texan drawl, the allure of being a cop, and goddammit, he was pursued daily.

He wanted none of it.

“No, honey,” he hears some woman say, presumably to one of her offspring, judging from the harried, exhausted tones. “Now put that back.”

Yep, offspring. He heard the telltale signs of a young whine from the child and had to smile sympathetically. Then he heard something that caught his attention and raised his adrenaline: cans crashing.

He whipped around and narrowly dodged being smacked by a number of Chef Boyardee meals in a can. “Whoa!”

“Eliza!” The mother snatched up her child—maybe a little older than a year?—and popped her back into the shopping cart, buckled her up so swiftly he was impressed. “I am so sorry! You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Nope. I'm all right. The cans aren’t, though,” he said ruefully, observing the mess.

“Oh fu-fudge,” the mother said, catching herself before she could cuss in front of the kid.

“Here, I’ll help ya,” Beau offered, using his cart to detour traffic around the cans and began moving the cans away. “Wyatt,” he said, catching the eye of one of the employees. “Go get help.”

The mom raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You know everyone here?” she asked, doing her best to stack the cans against the shelf.

“Benefits of bein’ the sheriff,” he said with a smile. “Sooner or later, I meet them all.”

“You’re—“ she broke off in astonishment.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen,” he said by way of introduction. He shook her hand and was surprised by her firm grip. He hadn’t expected that from her. Maybe it was because she seemed so soft, motherly.

“I’m Y/N,” she said with a smile. It turned wry as she introduced her daughter. “That little hellion is Eliza.”

He chuckled. “Might need a little wranglin’, huh?”

“Either that or a wolf pack.”

Beau laughed. He couldn’t help it. Little Eliza actually grinned at hearing her mother say ‘or a wolf pack’, as if angling for that very purpose and existence. “You know, I know it don’t seem like that right now, but she'll get easier to manage.”

Y/N paused and lifted a brow. “You sound as if you speak from experience.”

“I guess I do,” he said, rising to his feet. He offered Y/N a hand to help her up as he said, “My Em wasn't really difficult, just stubborn. Had a mind of her own and goddamn she knew how to use it.”

He saw her eyes flicker for a moment, and wondered what it was that caused her react so. “Em--I'm guessing that's your daughter?”

He nodded with a fond smile. “She’s 18 now and in college.”

Y/N smiled, returning to her little hellion child. “Now you have new worries, whether she’s learning well, making the right friends, and handling peer pressure.”

“Well, thanks for the nightmares,” he said wryly.

Her smile turned amused, her eyes sparkling. “Just pointing out it never gets easier,” she said with a fond ruffle of her daughter’s hair. “Just changes in difficulties.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “Ya ain’t wrong,” he said at last.

For a moment, they regarded each other in companionable silence. Beau was reluctant to let her go, enjoying this conversation. She seemed equally hesitant to let the moment end.

“I… I, um, thank you, for your help,” she said at last. “It would’ve been kinda hard to do all that while minding my little wolf-child.”

He grinned, appreciating her humor in handling an energetic toddler. “You’re welcome.”

Just as she turned to leave, Beau stepped forward, stammering. “Ah, wait. I hope this ain’t forward of me, but…” God her eyes killed him. “Ah… can I ask you out sometime?”

She looked so surprised he wondered what she was thinking. Y/N glanced at her daughter, and he got it. She wasn’t expecting anyone to want to date a single mom.

Luckily for her, Beau wasn’t just ‘anyone’.

“I’d like that,” she said with a slight smile. She took out a little memo pad—god, she was organized, he loved it—and scrawled a number on it. She handed it to Beau.

“You know, we could’ve traded cellphone numbers,” he said teasingly. “Didn’t need to kill a tree for it.”

“Are you saying you don’t think you’re worth a tree?” she retorted with a smile.

That caught him off-guard and he laughed. “Oh, you got a sense of humor there, darlin’.”

“I try. My wolf-child forces me to very creative,” she said with a trace of wry humor.

He chuckled and approached little Eliza in the shopping cart seat. “May I?”

A look of surprise followed by an expression of gratitude. How many would ask before approaching a child? “Yes,” she said simply.

“Heya darlin’,” Beau said to Eliza. He regarded her with the solemn mien he would give a senior citizen. He held out his hand to her and added, “I’m Beau Arlen. I’m a friend of your mom’s.”

Eliza stared at him with wide, wide eyes, taking him in. He had the sense she was seeing more of him than an adult would, weighing and measuring him. Damned if he didn’t feel shaken. “Bo-bo!”

Y/N let out a laugh, then clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling giggles. Beau grinned, his green eyes dancing. “As long as you ain’t adding something to that nickname, I’ll take it.”

Eliza giggled at her mother’s reaction. She peered at Beau’s hand, then wrapped her tiny fingers around his index and middle finger, her hand too small to take his whole hand. It was so damned adorable. “Bo-bo,” she said solemnly.

He cleared his throat to hold back the laugh and nodded. “That’s right, darlin’. And you’re Eliza.”

Eliza nodded, then dragged his hand over to her mother. “Mommy!”

Something shifted in Y/N’s expression, shuttered. Beau felt the warmth from her withdraw, and found himself confused. “Y/N?”

”We should go,” she said suddenly. “We’ve taken up enough of your time.”

Without giving him a chance, she gently freed her daughter’s grasp from his hand and pulled away with her shopping cart, leaving him staring after them in utter confusion.

As luck would have it, he chanced upon them in the parking lot. Little Eliza went into full-blown meltdown, wailing while her mother was desperately trying to get her to calm down enough to get buckled into the car seat.

“Eliza, please!” Yep. Sheer desperation, mother ready to hit tears.

Beau headed up to them, set his bags of groceries and pack of beer on the ground, and said, “Hey… why don’t I take her for a moment? Give you a breather?”

Y/N looked back at him, and yep, tears in her eyes, a look of overwhelming parenthood. Beau felt for her. She hesitated for a breath, then nodded, forcing herself to step back. “I just… can’t her to calm down,” she said, her voice quaking.

”Ah, it happens to the best of us,” he said gently, taking Eliza from the car seat. “First year we had Emily, I think between Carla and I we must’ve cried in the closet a dozen times.”

Y/N was startled. “The closet?”

“Yep.” He gently bounced Eliza in his arms, the little toddler still full on wailing. “We felt embarrassed, ya see. Didn’t want each other know we had no idea what the hell we were doin’. Or how hard it had been for us.”

“How did you two find out about the other?”

Eliza was beginning to sniffle and hiccup, which Beau took to mean she was starting to calm down. He kept bouncing her as he spoke to her mother. “Came upon her in the closet. Carla had been feelin’ sick, Emily was all over the place and nothin’ was workin’. I came home and found her there, tears everywhere.”

Beau shook his head. “We had a good long talk. We were lucky. We could lean on each other. Even then, it was damned hard.”

Eliza let out a big yawn and Beau smiled. He shifted her in his arms and she immediately slumped against him, evidently prepared to fall asleep then and there.

Y/N’s brows swooped up in astonishment. “I.. can’t decide if I should be offended or relieved you got her to calm down that fast.”

“Relieved, darlin’,” he said with a rumbly chuckle. “Go with relieved. Why don’t ya take her and I’ll get your groceries in the car?”

”Absolutely not. You hold her, I’ll do it. I don’t want to risk her waking up again,” she said with a chuckle. “I knew she was getting tired. I just had to finish shopping. Just my luck she got overtired and that was it, she didn’t want to cooperate anymore.”

Much to Beau’s amusement, Eliza let out a tiny snore. He patted the little toddler’s back soothingly, swayed in place. God, memories were coming back, of late nights trying to get Emily to go down so they could sleep, of trying to get her to hang on a bit longer so they could go home.

He’d do it again in a heartbeat. He loved his daughter so damned much.

”When they’re that age, all we can do is roll with it,” he said as she moved bags into her trunk. “We’re just lucky they’re cute enough to forget what it’s like as they get older.”

Y/N smiled a bit, but it faded quickly. “Beau… I owe you an apology.”

“What for?” he asked, his hand still patting Eliza’s back.

“For leaving as abruptly as I did earlier,” she said, her voice low and ashamed. “I… Eliza bringing you right over to me had me…” She hesitated, then finished with, “scared. It scared me.”

Beau paused in his swaying, caught off guard. Then he kept moving, considering that confession. “I imagine your daughter approving of a man you just met might be a bit difficult,” he said carefully. “Especially one who just asked you out.”

“Most men I meet… if they’re interested in me… tend to run when they hear ‘single mom’,” she said slowly. “No matter how well we got along.”

Ah. Beau nodded slowly. He couldn’t imagine how that felt, being constantly turned down because of certain circumstances. “Ain’t my place to judge,” he said at last. “You’re a package deal, far as I’m concerned. If I wanna see the momma, I gotta accept the kid, too.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, astonished by his level of acceptance. “That’s… thank you.”

“No need,” he said with a smile. “It’s the way it is.” He glanced at Eliza and his smile widened, took on warmth. “‘Sides, she’s hell of a kid.”

Y/N chuckled, her expression softening. “She is. Thank you… for helping out.”

“More than happy to, darlin’,” he said, rubbing Eliza’s back. “I think she’s ready to go into the car seat though.”

“Do you mind?”

He shook his head and gently set Eliza into the car seat. He adjusted her comfortably and made sure to snap her in tightly. Then he grabbed a blanket in the backseat and tucked it around the little toddler. Damn, she’s adorable.

”There ya go,” he whispered to Eliza. “Sweet dreams, kiddo.”

He straightened and nodded to Y/N. “Precious cargo is all secured, ma’am.”

Amused, Y/N smiled. “Thank you, Beau.”

A part of him resisted the urge to kiss her, she looked so soft and warm. It was too soon, he knew. They haven’t even been on a date yet.

“You’re welcome.” He reassured himself the paper with her phone number was still in his pocket, then asked, “Would it be desperate or premature of me to ask you out now?”

Her smile widened, and she shook her head. “No. Go for it, Beauregard.”

He quirked a smile at hearing his full name. He hadn’t given it to her; she must’ve made some educated guesses. “All right then, darlin’. I’d like to take ya out to dinner tomorrow, if you’re willin’.”

“I’d love to,” she said with a smile.

“What time works for ya?”

She glanced at the little toddler in the car. “Is 6pm too early for you?”

”Not at all. I’ll reach out to you later, if that’s all right, arrange your address and all?”

She blinked, then smiled. “You’re picking me up?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a nod. “My mother would skin me alive if she knew I wasn’t being a gentleman.”

That clearly charmed Y/N. “Okay. Yes… text me later and… we’ll get that sorted.”

He tipped his head at her, scooped up his bags and beer. “Drive safe, Y/N.”

She glanced at him as she got into her car. God, he loved her smile, a touch crooked with a sweetness that was killing him.

He never imagined a trip to the grocery store would net him a date—let alone with a single mom. Yet, here he was, asking one out and utterly charmed by her kid.

What a life.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 year ago

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All Dressed Up - Capt. Syverson x Reader

A/N: based on a thought I had while watching Sand Castle earlier and a discussion with @nouis-bum from a couple of days ago. I couldn't help myself, sorry. Also, we decided for the purpose of my writing, his name's Luke.

pairing: Capt. Syverson x fem!reader

warnings/content: oral (m & f receiving), no use of y/n, no real mention of reader's features other than long hair.

word count: 1.8k

“Honey, have you seen my blue shirt?” Luke Syverson called out to his wife, his icy-blue eyes squinting as he tried to think of where his dress shirt could be. He was sure he’d checked every laundry basket, every drawer in the dresser, and both sides of the closet. He bounded down the stairs, heavy footsteps echoing through the house as he headed for the laundry room. His brows knit together as he thought about any stone he may have left unturned in his search. He didn’t dress up often - in fact, the missing dress shirt in question was his only dress shirt. He had always gotten by with an old t-shirt and a pair of jeans when he went out, which wasn’t a regular occurrence until you’d entered his life a few years ago.

Slowly, you’d begun to introduce new things into his closet, replacing his tattered old Houston Texans jersey was the first step - he’d kept the old one, of course, for nostalgic purposes, but it hardly fit, and the deep navy blue fabric had gained a few holes here and there over the years. The new one had been a birthday gift from you that first year you were together, and he treasured it. The dress shirt was introduced the second Christmas the two of you were together. You had a work Christmas party and he was home from his latest tour for a 6 month break until the next one came around. He’d never met any of your co-workers before, and wanting to make a good impression and keep you happy, he’d reluctantly agreed to go shopping with you to pick out something better suited to wear than a tattered cotton graphic tee he’d had for at least a decade, and a well-worn, faded pair of jeans.

As he squatted down in front of the dryer, opening the door to look at the contents inside to see if his shirt was somewhere in amongst the clean laundry waiting to be folded, he heard footsteps come up behind him, followed by a wolf whistle. He smirked to himself, closing the dryer door after yet another unsuccessful search. He stood upright, his full 6-foot-something frame straightening up as he turned to face you. His bulking muscular figure was still toned from the years of military service he’d just retired from, although now, he stood a little more solidly, having grown accustomed to more than just black coffee and shitty food while he was away. His arms folded across his chest, muscles bulging as he stood before her. His wife stood in front of him, batting her eyelashes as she donned his blue button up shirt, sitting oversized on her, drooping off her shoulders as grinned at him. His eyes scanned over her, taking in the sight before him. His lips curled up into a smirk, framed by his thick, curly, dark beard, the chestnut coloured hairs recently trimmed to look less wild than they usually did. He noticed that the shirt stopped just above her knee, and it didn’t take more than a split second to realize that the shirt was the only article of clothing she was wearing at the time.

“Now, darlin’, why exactly have ya got my shirt on?” His voice carried a teasing tone to it as he spoke, the smirk on his face remaining unchanged as his piercing blue eyes continued to gawk at her.

“Thought it made for a kinda cute shirt dress, don’t you?” She teased, twirling a long strand of hair around her index finger, “Besides, kinda fun watchin’ you run around half naked lookin’ for it.”

“Sugar, don’t get me wrong, it looks great on ya, but I can’t exactly go out for dinner lookin’ like this,” Luke gestured to his naked torso, his hand stopping just above the waist of his dark-washed jeans.

“Fine, but, before I take it off,” She began, her lips curving into a devilish grin as she dragged her fingers lazily over his skin, gently raking through the brown curls that adorned his chest, “I want to make you feel good first.”

“Darlin’, you’re killin’ me here,” He shook his head, laughing as he looked down at her.

Luke watched as she gently pressed her lips to his collarbone before slowly slinking down to her knees before him. He took his belt in his hand, undoing the metal buckle and sliding the long leather material through the belt loops around his waist. He dropped it to the ground, the sound of the buckle clattering against the hardwood flooring echoing through the room.

He undid the button on his jeans with urgency, dragging them down just enough to allow his wife the space she’d need to pleasure him. She yanked the elastic waistband of his boxers down with a smirk, his hardened cock springing back as she freed it from its cotton restraints. She pressed her lips to it, leaving a tauntingly delicate kiss to the sensitive, red tip, her hand firmly gripping the base. She licked a long, wet stripe up the underside of his length, beginning at the base and ending in a swirling motion around the tip, giving him a doe-eyed gaze as she looked up at him, watching for his reaction. He tilted his head back, letting out a deep, low growling moan before turning his head back to look down at her, grunting her name as she guided his member past her lips, creating suction on the tip with her mouth.

She began bobbing her head along his length, her cheeks hollowing as she pushed his erection further into her mouth, saliva beginning to drip down it as she took more of his length past her lips. She pulled her mouth back off his cock with a loud popping noise, smirking up at him as he grunted upon the loss of contact.

“Fucking Christ, babygirl, you’re killin’ me here,” Luke rasped, shaking his head as he looked down at her.

Luke grabbed a handful of her hair, gripping it as he guided her mouth back onto him, pushing her further down his erection and guiding her back off it at a rhythmic pace, building in speed as she went. Luke was struggling to keep himself composed as she continued working his orgasm out of him with her mouth. Her eyes began to water as his tip brushed the back of her throat and the moment his sensitive cap made contact, he felt his knees buckle, swallowing hard as he tried to hold off his orgasm as long as he could. Her gaze never left his face as he tossed his head back, her name falling from his lips like a prayer as thick, warm ropes of cum shot down her throat. His eyes shut for a brief moment, completely lost in his own pleasure. He looked down at her, watching as she slowly backed herself off of him, dragging her tongue lazily against his underside as she did so.

“Darlin’, I think it’s only fair I return the favour for ya now,” He gave her a mischievous smirk as he offered his hand out to her, helping her stand to her feet.

Luke gripped her hips and hoisted her up onto the metal top of the dryer, grinning at her as he took his turn kneeling on the floor. He pulled her forwards by her hips. He tapped the inside of her thigh with his hand, indicating to her that she needed to spread her legs to allow him to fit between them. His blue eyes watched her as he dragged two thick fingers along her wet folds, his voice in a low hum as he spoke, amused at how aroused she was. Luke used his fingers to part her lips gently, letting out a deep exhale as he stared at her, taking in the sight before him.

“Look at you, darlin’, pussy all wet for me, just waitin’ for me to take care a’ya, hmm?” he cooed as he watched her part her lips, allowing a soft moan to escape from her mouth.

“Luke, please, baby,” she mewled, whimpering as he circled the pad of his fingertip against her swollen clit.

The sound of her whimpering, soft moans were music to Luke’s ears, and he wasted no time in pressing his lips to her sensitive bud, lapping his tongue against it, tasting her sweet arousal as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thigh. He dipped two of his fingers into her now dripping core, lazily fucking them into her as he sucked on her nub, waiting for her to beg him to give her more.

“Luke, fucking hell, stop fucking teasing me, please?” She whined, her voice raising in pitch as she let out another whimper.

Luke pumped his fingers into her faster, pressing into her soft spot as he continued to lick and suck at her clit, his bright blue eyes never leaving once leaving her face as he watched, feeling himself become more aroused by seeing her face contort and hearing her vocalize her pleasure. He felt her leg tremble under his free hand, and he continued to fuck her with his fingers, pulling his mouth off of her clit just enough for her to hear him speak.

“Soak my fingers for me, sugar,” He husked, watching as he continued to thrust them into her wet folds, an animalistic grunt escaping his lips as he felt her clenching around him.

She tossed her head back as her arousal coated him, a loud, passionate scream of his name echoing through the air as she climaxed. Luke pulled his fingers out, licking them clean before ducking back between her thighs, delving his tongue inbetween her folds to clean up the mess he’d made of her. Once finished, he pulled back his head, sitting back on his feet for a moment as he grinned up at her, his bearded chin glistening with her arousal as he looked at her.

“Now, sweetness, you’re gonna have to take my shirt off of ya now, or else we’re never gonna make it to dinner. They might notice us being missing.” He smirked, shaking his head as he stood up.

Luke reached his hands out to grab her by the hips, nodding as he helped her down off of the dryer. He cocked an eyebrow up at her, watching as she slowly undid the buttons of the shirt before shrugging the blue material back off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor as she exposed her bare skin to him. Unable to control his impulsive urges, Luke grabbed her by the waist, gripping her body tightly as he pulled her in against his frame.

“Well…maybe we can be a few minutes late?”

#capt. syverson x reader #captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson fic #captain syverson smut #captain syverson fanfiction #henry cavill characters

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shitty-mechs-headcannons · 5 months ago

Note

new texans are born with no hair, similarly to humans but with pointier teeth and bigger wolfier ears and a tail, but as they grow older they get fluffier, and their face shape changes. by early adulthood they look like jonny: mostly human, but absolutely covered in body hair, a liiittle bit of a snout, and the aforementioned tail ears and teeth. by the time they're elderly they're 100% furries haha humanoid wolf creatures. the changes happen gradually over their lifetime, but is fastest late 20s/30s (like. second puberty). i dont have any excuse for this but i think the bear to furry pipeline should be real and genetic

Oh my god that's fantastic and I love it

-mod wil

#the mechanisms #shitty mechs hc #mod andy #jonny d'ville

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stargazinglesbian · 5 days ago

Note

Your Pjo cultural clash/sharing/bonding hcs king🤲🏼

LETS GO IM EXCITED

ok first of all because of jason being like, raised by wolves, he has a hard time navigating the massive variety of cultures he's introduced to when he first leaves camp jupiter, so all of his friends give him random crash courses about stuff like punk culture (percy particularly loves to rant about music to him and jason is more than willing to listen) as well as just the little nuances of the way they were raised (everyone has to put in a collective effort to teach jason to start taking his shoes off when he comes inside, and then he stops wearing shoes entirely because he hates them anyway (it's his wolf swag))

piper and percy always end up arguing over the aux cord when they're driving together because while they both share some music artists that they enjoy they always end up in blowout fights over which song is better, who's better in the genre, etc, etc. it's all in good fun though and they actually have a shared spotify playlist that they both sporadically add to. it's the principal of the thing!!! and it always stimulates interesting discussion

I JUST WANT MORE TEXAN LEO STUFF!!! especially since he's both from houston and latino, it has sooo much potential. stuff like him and hazel discussing food and him having slightly different manners of speech that end up rubbing off on all his friends!!! pleaseeeeee

percy and her punk diy habits are a massive source of bonding, everyone always brings their damaged clothes to her and she teaches them a bit about mending, and at this point because of all of her info dumps all of their friend have at least half a foot in punk culture, whcih they are so incredibly proud of

they would all DEFINITELY start picking up stuff from different languages after hanging around each other for long enough. piper starts swearing in italian because she's been hanging out with nico too much, and percy begins to let random bits of 1940s slang slip into her speech because of hazel, and jason (who i like to imagine is like a language prodigy along with leo) begins learning conversational chinese and mexican spanish and none of the friend groups conversations are ever only english

hazel and leo are always both very vehement about what figure of speech is better, stuff like random little idioms, and they talk about phrases they remember from their childhood for AGES when they first met, and it's just become a Thing for them. they ask people about the originals of their culture references, and have a little book they've compiled about the variety of speech at chb and camp jupiter

the aphrodite cabin is like THE place to talk about fashion, obviously, but that includes way more than people think it does. they have so many goth outfits, and scene jewellery, and drew loves to discuss different aesthetics and subcultures with people and always ends up gifting everyone random specialised fashion items for birthdays. i just think drew would love to geek out about subcultures in general, i just know she is the QUEEN of this kind of stuff (ok wait id love to explore the idea of this being her special interest more....)

hazel loves borrowing clothes from percy (they are siblings your honour!!) even though they often clash with her own outfits, but she really doesn't care because if it looks cute than it's cute!!! so what if people don't think it's goth or works well with what she's wearing

piper hosts a weekly movie night at camp (she is 100% super into like all types of films, my cinephile queen) which she lets people put little suggestions in, and after a couple of weeks they're basically always non english or super campy or stuff that her friends were obsessed with growing up and it kind of become a representation of her friend group as a whole, i just love it when peoples lives and personalities are reflected in the media they consume

that's all the random little things i have in my head rn, but this is a concept i wanna explore wayyyy more, because people just genuinely don't consider this kind of stuff in the pjo fandom enough imo!!!! OUAGHHH ANYWAY THANK YOU FOR ASKING this took me ages because i was geeking out SO HARD

#original post #pjo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #ask

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megangovier · 6 months ago

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Birthday Surprise

Stripper!Joel x Shy! femReader

Summary: You're 24 years old today, your friends hired a male stripper.

Warning: 18+ only // smut // shyness // seductive moves // spicy🌶️// mdni // slightly gets unprofessional.

Song: Do It For Me - Rosenfeld

To you being 24 wasn't a big deal, you wanted to just celebrate with a book in hand and drink of red in the other. All cozied up in blankets watching your favourite childhood films. But your girlfriend's had a different idea, they wanted to surprise you so they did by hiring a male dancer/stripper. You was known to be real shy around guys, especially the ones with attractive accents and are from Texas. The cowboys always made you feel something, and their voices dripped like glowing honey.

Today was your birthday, you just wanted to laze around all day doing what you wanted to do, but your girlfriend's decided to take you shopping and doll you up for tonight, you had no idea where you were going later but it was a surprise. So you showerd, put a sundress on with a cardigan and black boots. Heading towards the shopping mall where they said they'll be to meet you, you saw them waving at you by the billboard. Walking into the clothes shop, they started to grab a few outfits that would look stunning on you.

Checking yourself into the fitting rooms to try each clothing on, that was given by your girlfriends you smiled at the one with the flannel shirt, white top, black leather jeans and boots. Coming out behind the curtain, they wolf whistled and clapped "girll, you look amazing!" They would say, making cheeks flush with shyness. They adored you so much "I'm definitely wearing this, to wherever you're taking me tonight" the three women grinned at eachother.

21:00..

It's time to put on a brave face, still guessing where they're taking you. All four of you are in the car, listening to favourites from Spotify. It was only a few miles til you get there, hands clammy and nerves skyrocketing. In your mind you were still wondering where you were going but they shook their heads and said "wait honey, we're almost there" or "it's a surprise, organised by us three, your best friends since childhood". You hated surprises, the earliest memory was from childhood, it was your birthday and your dad had chased you around the garden with a snake, so you weren't a fan of surprises.

21:30..

You've finally arrived, looking glamourous in the outfit you had brought earlier that morning, hair is wavy like the ocean. Light makeup and lipgloss. Wearing a cowboy hat, playing the part for the surprise. All four headed inside, the disco lights were on, songs in the background and a chair in the middle of the stage. Confused, thinking to yourself "why is there a chair in the middle off the stage?" The three friends, grabbed the drinks from the bar and poured into their glasses.

The lights lowered and change of music played in the background, lights on stage appeared and so did a Texan man wearing blue jeans, cowboy hat and a grin on his face. Heat had ran up your neck and cheeks tomato red, eyes looking at the ceiling or past the door opposite you, if you could just sneak away into the toilets and out the window, you felt so far away from home, it felt like a tight shell was going to crack around you.

A poke was felt on your shoulder, looking away and onto the friend next to you "he's asking for you" eyes on the man, he had a warm smile on his face, walking up the steps your hands in his, he sat you down. His feet parted yours from eachother and grabbed your hair back in a fistful and ran his warm tounge up your neck, tasting the sweet vanilla scent of your fragrance. One of your songs came on, do it for me by rosenfeld.

"Show me how Show me how you like it done You're all mine I'll make you feel like you're the one"

Joel had lifted you off the chair, your legs wrapped around his waist. Laying you on the floor gently, with his hand behind your head keeping it safe, he had crawled ontop of you with his legs under yours flipping you over onto your stomach, a shocked Pikachu face fell onto your friends faces.

"Take off your clothes Give me your trust Look me in the eyes and confess your lust Get on your knees Beg me to stop"

Joel had grabbed your hips from behind and started to grind against you, his lips against your ear "you're doing so well, i hope you're enjoying this sweetheart, happy surprise birthday". Giggles erupted from the three women, heart pounded out your chest.

"I promise I'll love you if you do it So do it for me"

Joel flipped you on your back and forced your legs opened with his thigh between them, looking at your blushed face and dazed eyes he kissed up your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair. The sweet smell was making him needy, but had to stay professional for the birthday girl right. But it doesn't mean you both couldn't have fun. Lifting you back up, sitting down with you on his lap your hands on his shoulders, with you slowly grinding on his growing erection.

"Give me your hand I'll show you things you've never done Hold my head I'll make you feel like never before"

Joel's the one now, who had his hair pulled back and a warm tongue ran up his neck, moans left his throat. He was enjoying this as much as you was, something started to drip down your leg, a wet spot formed onto his jeans.

Take off your clothes Give me your trust Look me in the eyes and confess your lust Get on your knees Beg me to stop

I promise I'll love you if you do it So do it for me

Say my name All I wanna do is hear you scream in pain Say my name

I promise I'll love you if you do it So do it for me (So do it for me) (So do it for me)

@sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts @strang3lov3 @rositaa01xxr

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #megangovier22 #Stripper!Joel #Stripper!Joel x shy! fem reader

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girlboybug · 1 year ago

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tear you apart

"i want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as i whisper in your ear, i wanna fucking tear you apart."

didn't anyone warn you about the man who lives in the cabin in the woods?

what's playing 🎧: tear you apart by she wants revenge

pairing : joel x reader

word count : 4k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, dubcon, unsafe/unprotected piv, size kink, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy but no actual pregnancy, slight bondage with ropes, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, cumshots, virginity taking, unspecified age gap (but if you wanna know joel is 50, reader is 21) sir kink, impact play, lots of spanking, light face slapping nothing intense, choking

TRIGGER WARNINGS : dubcon, slight themes of being held hostage kinda, joel is so mean and scary frowny face, unsafe piv, threats of knife usage, overall stranger danger!!!

a/n heyyy party people i’m sorry i’ve been so dead, work has been taking a lot of my time lately :( i miss u all dearly :( pls accept this as a little halloween treat from me to you <3🎃 comments rlly motivate me so if you enjoyed this plz lmk down in the comments!!!

you really should have known better. no one in their right mind would be in the predicament you’re currently in. feebly following behind a burly man, allowing him to lure you into following him deeper into the maze of a forest, all with the promises of shelter and a working phone.

you hug yourself to soothe the nerves ricocheting like bullets all throughout your body, and he turns his head, glancing down at you from behind his broad shoulder to ensure you’re keeping up. you crane your neck upwards to offer a shy smile. you tell yourself that you were able to see the corner of his lips perk, just a little.

he says nothing of grandeur when he pushes open the front door of his cabin nestled between a thick brush of trees and bushes, sitting adjacent to an inky black lake illuminated by the full moon.

he walks in first, looking at you expectantly to close and lock the door behind you, to which you obey immediately.

the decor is very…texan, a moose head watches your every movement from above his mantle as your heeled feet carry you to his worn in recliner, sitting down in it when he motions for you to.

he sits down in front of you, his ankle resting on his knee, big hands dwarfing the arm rests, his eyes taking their time to really drink you in. “what were you doin’ out in the woods so late anyhow?” he asks you, the cadence in his voice sounding like a continuous grunt with a twinge of a southern accent.

ahh, hence the texan decor…

“um,” your voice cracks, and your cheeks get hot with embarrassment. “w-was at a um halloween party but i wasn’t enjoying myself, so i left…stupidly, on my own. and i got lost.” you chuckle nervously, hoping he joins you to ease the tension but he doesn’t. he just continues to stare.

“some wolf try an’ getcha?” he jokes dryly without the lightheartedness, and your chest tightens at his words. “wh-what?”

he nods at your costume, eyes lingering on your ruffled skirt a little extra longer before he looks back up at you. you look down, hands shyly smoothing out your red riding hood dress, sighing out of relief to yourself. “oh!” you exhale quietly, shaking your head. “i guess you could say that,” you respond a little quieter, thinking back to a drunken owen trying to get back at abby by attempting to kiss you in front of her.

“hmm,” a low throatily hum leaves past joel’s shut lips and you tighten your legs with angst. “s-so um can i uhh…use your phone?” you ask, hyper aware of the reason why you’re even in his house to begin with. joel nods, pointing into his kitchen. “s’by the fridge on your left.”

his eyes follow your ass, barely concealed by the puffy ruffles of your dress, and you feel hot under his stare, wobbly legs trying to move fast towards the phone. when you pick up the landline, you’re greeted with silence instead of a dial tone. your heart sinks impossibly deeper and you turn to look at the man, swallowing hard.

you turn back to the phone, trying to dial your mom’s number, praying somehow it connects you to her, not caring if you’re met with yelling, as long as you hear her voice, relief will rinse through your body.

but it doesn’t. and fear takes over instead. “u-um…sir?” you call out, and he turns towards you. “what?” he asks gruffly and you switch your weight back and forth anxiously on either one of your feet. “y-your um…your phone doesn’t seem to be working?” you ask more than you tell and he just turns back around.

“yeah. does that sometimes,” he disregards your worries and you grow increasingly regretful of letting him convince you he was your best bet at going home. a shaky breath leaves your lips as you clutch the phone tightly. “do you know how to fix it?” you try once more and he answers you without a glance. “nope.”

you feel like breaking down and crying, gripping the phone before reluctantly putting it back. you inch your way back to the front door, avoiding eye contact. “i’ll just um…i’ll just try and see if i can get service back outside and call an uber or something. thanks for your help,” you hurriedly speak as politely as possible, unlocking his door and opening it.

you gasp louder than you would have expected, your shoulders jolting upwards with fear when a large hand slams the door shut above you. “that ain’t a good idea.” he mutters, voice falling over the crown of your head and you shut your eyes fearfully. “wh-why not?” you all but whisper, your heart hammering against your ribcage when you hear the locks turn back once more.

“girl like you shouldn’t be alone out there in the woods. safer in here.” he tells you rather than offering as a suggestion, a sense of finality in his voice. your hand desperately clings to the doorknob before you release yet another opportunity of safety it feels like.

“what should i do then?” you question stupidly, as if the grown man before you really has your best interest in mind. “you can stay here. it’ll be easier for me to guide you outta these woods come mornin’.” he answers, the last utterances of his sentence ending in a tired sigh.

you inhale deeply and attempt to exhale the fear buzzing around in your chest. “i really wouldn’t want to impose—“

“sit down.” he orders and you jolt at his voice, apprehensively obeying once more.

he stalks your every step that leads you back into his living room, head inching along in unison with each movement of yours. he wordlessly stands up, eyes peering a cold downcast upon you, his heavy boots making their way towards you like the beginning to a ceremony.

your chest rises and falls rapidly, feeling like a trapped animal below him. “you usually follow men you’ve never met before into their houses?” he questions you, a low gruff interrogation that escapes into the thick air from the cusp of his breath.

you shake your head and he purses his lips, raising a brow. “no?” he asks again, mocking you. “no.” you whisper back shakily.

he doesn’t respond, he leisurely pushes the red hood of yours off of your head and away from your face, allowing him a clearer view of your fear stricken gaze.

he chuckles quietly, enjoying this game he’s playing with you. he bends down, leaning in close. his scruffy beard tickles your cheek, his strong hooked nose brushing against your ear. “you smell real nice,” he mutters into your hood.

you close your eyes, trembling at his proximity, ignoring the fluttery feeling bubbling in your lower tummy, attempting to snuff out it’s flame. you refuse to acknowledge how a sick part of you feels a rush of adrenaline from how close this man is to you.

he stands up straight again, this time a bulge stirring in his tightened levi’s visible before you. he stares at you gawking at it, a sense of pride inflating him. he eyes you for a few more seconds before impatience kicks in and he’s bent down, lifting you up in his arms and picking you up and out of the recliner. you yelp and flail in his hold but he’s got you pinned in his arms, you’re not going anywhere.

he carries you into his bedroom, kicking the door open and pushing it back shut with the back of his boot.

he drops you onto his bed and watches you hungrily, watching as you scramble on his bed like a little rabbit he’s just caught.

you’re sitting at the edge of his bed, legs splayed straight, trying to cover yourself the best you can. he walks towards you, gripping your thighs and spreading them wide open forcibly, lowering himself down to his knees. you pant under your breath, a heavy sigh leaving past your lips when he ducks his head down lower to underneath his bed, and away from between your thighs.

he returns to look at you with rope in his hands, and your heart falls deeper into your body than you thought possible.

“wrists.” you hand them to him, too scared to see what would happen if you refused. he ties a knot around your wrists, letting your paired hands drop into your lap. “f’you really wanna get out of ‘em use your teeth to tug on this little loose end.” he follows his instructions by stepping aside to reveal the exit of his bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest. “you’re free to try an’ test your luck out there, or in here.” he looks down at you, biceps bulged from crossing over his chest, head tilting to the side, trying to read your facial expressions and figure out what option you’ll choose.

you stare at your confinements then flicker your gaze to the door and back at joel. you can’t seem to find something in you that will allow you to leave, despite common sense warning you, nothing feels as tempting as wondering what he’ll do to you.

something like a smirk takes over joel’s face when he realizes you aren’t going anywhere, and a wetness pools in your floral printed panties at the sight. “knew you weren’t goin’ anywhere,” he snickers with a sense of pride, moving closer to you now. he grabs your confined wrists and puts them above your head as he pushes you back into his mattress. he breathes in your scent, sighing to himself when the aroma of your fear mixed with your sweet perfume fills his nose.

“gonna fuckin’ ruin you…gonna ruin this,” he mutters, cupping your cunt. you gasp and squirm in his grip, whimpering from his touch and from bud words. he slaps your pussy and you whine, trying to shut your thighs. “don’t you fuckin’ move. lemme play with what i caught here,” he grunts, lifting up your little white gingham printed skirt, exhaling when he sees the wet splotch at the front of your panties.

he looks up at you from under his lashes, a smug expression wordlessly teasing you.

your cheeks get warm and you opt for staring at the ceiling instead.

“fuckin pussy achin for a cock huh?” he chuckles, vulgarity in his nature and you whine, not used to feeling so on display and viewed so objectifyingly. and more importantly, not used to liking it.

he travels back up to take his time ripping open the flimsy corset top of your dress, groaning to himself when he exposes your cute breasts, nipples hardened and ready for his hungry mouth.

he can’t help himself when he lowers his tongue over them, your little sounds only encouraging him. he bites down on your nipples, and you cry out, unintentionally arching your back into his mouth. he just laughs around your flesh, groping and squeezing you like he owns you.

and he’d argue that he just about does.

“haven’t had a cute little thing to play with in awhile, gonna have some real fun with you, girl.” he says from the base of his throat, his lips brushing against your neck. you can’t stay still, all the attention and groping is so unfamiliar, and you’re too riled up to contain yourself, the throb in your clit begs for attention, and all you can do is press your thighs tightly together and try to gain any kind if relief from the seam in your panties.

he notices and scoffs. “keep your legs open, or i’ll tie ‘em to my bedpost.” he growls in your ear, and your clit pulses at the threat, taking a second to consider the consequences, before ultimately following his instructions.

he wolf whistles at your pretty cunt concealed behind your panties, hooking his thumbs under them and dragging them down your perfect thighs until they hang from your calves. his cock fucking throbs when he sees your pussy glisten from the pane of moonlight that creeps in from his window.

he slaps your pussy again, loving how puffy your lips are. your shoulders cave in from the sudden impact, whimpering at his harshness. “got yourself a perfect cunt don’tcha?” he exhales, mostly talking to himself, his palm coming down over his crotch to relieve some of the pressure building.

“you ever been fucked?” he asks, patting your cheek. you blink a few times, wondering if you should be honest with him. you shake your head an ashamed ‘no’ and he grins for the first time tonight. “well ain’t that a treat for me. gonna break you in nice and good,” he shrugs off his flannel, hurriedly unzipping his levi’s. he fishes himself out from his boxers and your jaw goes slack, chest tightening again.

his cock is huge, it’s fat and looks threatening. it’s almost a weapon and could probably be classified as one because shit, the stretch is going to hurt.

he jerks himself off, bringing his tip to your clit. you gasp, your hips circling his cock. “i-i don’t know if that’ll f-fit,” you stammer nervously and he shushes you. “gonna make it fit and you’re gonna take it for me. think of it as a thank you, from you to me for lettin’ you come into my house,” he chides, laughing with a sense of entitlement, feeling as though your body is something he’s owed. your chest heaves with nerves and anticipation as you prepare to pay your debt.

he huffs lowly, bringing two fingers to your dripping sex, his cock twitching when he collects your wetness on the pads of his digits. “dunno why you’re so worried, it’ll go right in, pussy’s basically cryin’ for it,” he grunts, curling a middle finger into your little hole. you gasp, head falling back into his sheets, nails scratching at the rope that holds your wrists together.

he pumps his wrist in and out, his free hand jerking himself off while he fucks you with his finger. “niiice an’ tight, gonna squeeze my cock jus’ how i like it,” he rubs against a sensitive spot within your cunt, throwing you a bone when his thumb swirls around your aching clit.

you moan, eyes squeezing shut and eyebrows furrowing at the sensation. the bass in your tummy grows into a finely tuned crescendo throughout your limbs and as soon as it builds, it falters once he removes his touch. you whimper disappointedly, but he’s fast to shut your complaints up when he begins to split you in half with his cock, a loud whine replacing any of your needy grumbling.

you cry out, knees trying to push at his hips but he grips them, forcing them open. “you’re gonna take it f’me little girl,” he growls, working the thick girth of his cock into you. you’re freely crying now, the overwhelming feeling of being so full is something foreign to you, and you’re not sure you can take it, but joel has decided you can and you will.

he grips your face, squeezing your cheeks into your lips pucker, turning you until your cheek meets his mattress and he’s pushing you into it, inching his hips backward only to go in even deeper than when he started.

“ooh-hoh-oh, fuck baby,” he groans, fucking into your cunt with no hesitation, your little hole barely able to accommodate him. “tha’s right,” he pants, swallowing hard when he makes you look at him again, your breasts bouncing from each hard thrust he sends you. “takin’ my cock like you’re made for it,”

you whimper, taking his comment as praise and squeezing him, your poor neglected clit throbbing when he grunts above you. “can feel you in my stomach,” you whine and he laughs, pressing a hand right over the bulge that he creates. “good luck findin’ another man who can do that to ya baby,” he snickers, giving a patronizing kiss to your cheek.

he grips the fabric of your skirt, using it as leverage to keep you close as he pounds into you, impaling you over and over on his cock, fucking the shape of it deep into you.

you jerk upwards from each and every pivot he sends you and he’s hypnotized by the way your tits bounce from his movements. he smacks them and grips them tight, pinching your pebbled nipples, loving how you yelp from the slight pain.

“sir please, t-touch me,” you moan pleadingly and he can’t believe his ears, his cock twitches inside you at your begging and he obliges you, bringing two fingers to your little clit and rubbing hard to match the tempo of his thrusts.

“got you hooked on my cock, maybe next time you’ll get ‘lost’ again and come lookin for me huh?” he breathes out in your ear, and you nod dumbly, your pussy drooling all over his dick, sucking him in deep.

his hand finds your throat and pins you down firmly, allowing you little access to air, but the lack of the supply is numbingly good, addictive. your eyes roll back, mouth parting with a soft string of moans.

he brings his hips down into yours without fail, fucking you with an insatiable stamina, groaning and grunting at how you take his cock, his hand tightening around your throat when you clench around him, growling at the feeling of your soaked pussy all around him.

“haven’t fucked a virgin in lord knows how long, forgot how goddamn good it feels,” he groans, his hand releasing your throat to toy with the glimmering cross necklace that lays between your breasts. he chuckles when he lets the silver cross fall back onto your chest. “cute.” he teases when he picks up a leg of yours and throws it over his shoulder, shuddering when he slides in even deeper.

you sob loudly, wailing out his name and babblings of sir please oh god sir please please, at the deep intrusion. “go on ahead and cry all you want little red, no one can hear you out here,” he mocks, rubbing your clit to watch you cry harder.

he pulls out and flips you on your tummy with haste, way too eager to be back inside of you. he readjusts you until you’re now at the foot of his bed, hips perfectly propped up on his bed frame, allowing him an easier access into your little cunt.

he spreads open your ass, pushing his cock back into you, his thumb ghosting over your other little hole, enjoying the way you squirm around, wriggling your hips nervously at his prodding. you turn around to look at him from behind your shoulder, looking up at him with a startled stare.

he laughs, spitting on it and shaking his head when he slaps your ass, hard. “don’t worry, i’m content with your pussy baby,” he says, sending an especially hard thrust as if you needed proof.

you collapse in his bed, using the hard smooth wood of his bed frame as friction for your clit.

his hands come down and grip your ass, spanking the full flesh mercilessly, loving your howls of pain from each smack. he’s only satisfied when he sees his handprints begin to form in your abused flesh. and even so, he continues to pair his harsh thrusts with unforgiving smacks that cause your flesh to burn.

he grabs your throat once more, forcing you closer to his mouth when he whispers in your ear. “whaddya think little red? should i use this,” he pulls out the dagger that was previously hidden within his pocket, the coldness from the blade contrasts against the warm skin of your neck. “to write my name in you? let everyone know who fucking owns you.” he presses the blade enough to make you squirm, but not quite enough to draw blood.

“n-no sir please don’t,” you pathetically shake your head and he mockingly coos at you. “why shouldn’t i?” he adds and you whine when he shoves his cock in you, hitting that achy spot deep in your cunt. “please don’t,” you moan, your words contradicting your voice, but fear still courses through you at the possibility of joel actually doing it.

he doesn’t reply, the only thing that responds to you is the sound of his hips slapping against the thick flesh of your ass, his cock pumping in and out of you relentlessly. he drops the knife on the bed in front of you, silently notifying you he won’t mark you with his blade. you expel a small breath of relief when you see it discarded.

your eyes flutter shut when he pushes you back down into his sheets, hand firmly keeping you in place by the back of your neck. his available hand unties the knot that bound your wrists together, now bending your left arm behind your lower back as he pounds into you.

a dull ache from the stretch of his cock begins to spread in your cunt but as much as it hurts, it feels just as good. “you better not waste a single drop,” he grunts in your ear, starting to move sporadically behind you, and you can’t even ask what he means, too fucked out and drooling on his bed to truly care.

it’s when he sends a harsh thrust into you, stilling inside you with a low groan. a warm sensation fills you and your clit tingles at the feeling. “how d’ya think people’ll react if they find out little red let some old man spill his cum in’ta her and got her pregnant?” he whispers in your ear and your eyes widen, shivering when he pulls out and immediately shoves his cum right back into your leaking hole.

you crane your neck to watch it trickle down your thighs and you whimper, swishing your legs around and feeling it stick together. “there’s so much…” you scoop some of it with your fingers, and his cock doesn’t soften, it flexes upward at the way you look at his cum with watery eyes, long eyelashes slick from crying over his cock.

“an’ you’re gonna get more, i ain’t finished with you yet,” his voice baritone and borderline hoarse. you look up at him, feeling weak and unsure. “more?” you whisper and he nods, a sick little smile on his lips. “you can take it,” he mutters, kicking off his boots prior to climbing into his bed. he makes himself comfortable, hands behind his head when he motions for you to crawl over to him from the foot of his bed.

you comply, something about him has installed an inability to not only obey him, but a desire to.

he settles you on his lap, scooting you backward to circle his fat reddened tip over your swollen clit. “bet you wanna cum real bad?” he murmurs, it almost feels patronizing and yet, you eat it up, nodding desperately. “mhm,” you breathily reply, your orgasm that’s been pushed off far too many times building itself up all over again from the way he rubs his tip against your clit.

“we’ll see if you get to this time,” and with the lack of a promise, he pushes into you once more, feeling prideful when his own cum gushes from your hole, squeezing his cock in a way he could grow addicted to.

“bounce on it for me.” he instructs, hands tight on your hips. his orders catch you off guard and you sit still, somehow still bashful while speared on his cock. “i-i’ve never…but i don’t know-“

“you don’t know how to bounce up and down?” he asks dryly, an eyebrow raised. “i just…”

“you just, nothin’ i suggest you start movin’ for me now. lemme see those fuckin’ tits of your bounce.” he’s serious, and you’re embarrassed at how the way he speaks to you makes you grip onto his cock harder. he notices it, leaning further into bed and straightening out his hips, intentionally pushing deeper into you, liking the way you shiver and moan at the intrusion.

you place your hands on his chest, apprehensively moving your hips up and down. the pace is far too slow for joel’s liking, but he enjoys watching you use his cock the way you seem to like it, dragging your tight little cunt all along the long expanse of his dick, no matter how far up or down you move you can’t escape the feeling of being full.

but joel only has so much patience before it runs out. a hard calloused hand slaps the curve of your ass, whistling for you to speed it up. “pick up the pace, now.”

you struggle to obey this command, he’s so huge and you’re so sensitive you’re not sure if you can. you’re moving to the best of your abilities and honestly, your struggles are endearing to him. he takes pity on you, bear hugging your waist when he begins to jackhammer into you.

you cry out, face falling and burying itself in the crook of his neck, letting him continue to use your poor little hole.

“milk my fuckin’ cock,” he grunts into your chest, his mouth latching onto the flesh again. your clit makes contact with his coarse pubic hair and you’re flushed when you acknowledge how good it feels.

“s-sir,” you moan in his ear, arms coming around to hang off of his broad shoulders. he kisses your throat, sucking a bruise into it. his hands migrate to your ass, gripping it and slapping it, hoping he leaves you incapable of sitting down correctly tomorrow morning. he wants you to only think of him whenever you try to sit tomorrow, a memory of him fully engraved into every inch of your body.

his fingers find your clit and you hiccup sob from pleasure, starting to grind down and meet his rough thrusts. “thank you sir thank you thank you,” you chant, tightening your arms around him while you try fucking yourself on his cock. “you better cum right now,” he growls, pinching your clit before continuing his circular motions. your knees clench around his lap, your cunt squeezing his cock while you unravel in his arms.

you’re panting, feeling like getting air into your lungs is an impossible feat as your orgasm rips through you, shattering through your ribcage, the sensation never fully ending due to joel fucking you through it.

he continues moving you up and down his cock, playing with your little clit. you fall limp and powerless on his chest, whimpering and crying on top of him from the overwhelming stimulation. “n-no more please it’s too much, s-so much,” you sob and he slaps your ass right where he last hit, holding onto you tighter when you try and get away from the stinging pain.

“you’re gonna give me one more,” he tells you, no sense of asking anywhere and you hide away in his chest, letting him continue using your gushing hole however he wishes.

“i don’t think i can,” you slur, eyes starting to fall half shut, your clit burning with painful pleasure from his fingertips. “yes you fucking can,” he grits, rubbing harder and fucking you faster.

“gonna make me cum again, and you’re going to, too,” he growls, fucking up into you with a force that makes you shake in his chest.

he pulls out and rubs his tip against your clit, groaning while he forces his eyes to stay open so he can watch the way he paints your tummy and pussy white with his cum. you start taking in heavy breaths, tears welling up in your eyes when you feel your second orgasm ripple through you all over again, prickles of pain mixes with the pleasure that casts over you.

“o-oh god, oh god,” you hiccup, tears streaming down your cheeks when you slump into him, feeling boneless and faint, twitching and jerking as the effects of your orgasm works it’s way through your body.

joel guides you off of his lap and lays you beside him, watching you succumb to exhaustion from him using you like a toy, and he smirks to himself, eyeing the cum that decorates your lower stomach and trickles from your thighs.

“i might just have to keep you for myself,” he whispers to your unconscious body, pulling your red hood back over your head.

#joel miller x reader #the last of us smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal joel miller #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #halloween #kinktober #pervert!joel

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http-paprika · 1 year ago

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Bite the Hand / Phillip Graves

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

⋆★⋆ part five - sun, moon, sky ⋆★⋆ masterlist ⋆★⋆ previous ⋆★⋆ next ⋆★⋆

summary with her mind all over the place, frost goes for a run to free herself, only to come across the source of her problems.

werewolf!au / pairing phillip graves x female!reader / callsign frost / wc 1995 / warning swearing

notes so, my family has covid again which means i have no work and can focus on writing. hopefully I'll be able to write the next chapters before i go back to work. and i was losing my ever-loving mind writing this, listening to the same song on repeat to capture this chapter.

It began in her mouth, the constant uncomfortable dryness and a thirst that no amount of water could quench. She was unwilling to admit that her scent was laced with something sweet, a glow in her face, and the ache in her bones whenever she passed Graves. Like she was losing her mind, she sat hunched over her desk, face buried in her calloused hands.

“Frost?” Lurch stood in front of her desk, staring down at her like she was some bizarre alien creature who’d fallen out of the sky. Her teammates had begun to pick up on her erratic behavior, once or twice she’d heard Dipaolo telling Vance he was glad to be born a man. Not that being a man would’ve saved her from her distress. It was a trouble that plagued many, she was just the unfortunate soul to be struck down then.

“Maybe you should get out, go for a run, go hunt. You’re acting like a caged animal. Your reports have been looking like shit.” To prove his point, he dropped the stack of papers in front of her, Frost was embarrassed by the highlighted passages. It was sloppy and humiliating to read, below her standard. “I’d hate to bring this up to the Commander but if this is going to continue to be a problem, I will.”

“No. No. It won’t be a problem.” She quickly argued, standing out of her seat and yanking up her jacket. The early cold of winter had surprised her that morning, a welcomed relief from the unbearable Texan heat. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Hurried out of the office, she returned to her room and changed into running clothes, something that Frost wouldn’t mind if it got soiled or stained. She could only pray her run would be long and tiresome enough, there was a hope that it would stop the endless loop of thinking about him. As her hands slid over her body, pulling off her uniform, she couldn’t help but imagine the callouses of his hands replacing hers, a warm breath against her ears.

Her eyes snapped open, and her own breath caught in her lungs. He’d be the death of her, and Graves would never know.

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The smell of juniper and pine trees filled her nostrils as she finally stopped running, having gone to the northern border of the Shadow Company’s hunting grounds. Her chest rose and fell as she stared at the rapid river that divided her land from uncertainty. Frost often wondered who hunted in the lands beyond, and how far she could run without being shot at or entering enemy wolf territory.

Below her skin, her muscles tightened and ached as she dropped to the edge of the river, rocks digging into her knees as she stuck her hands into the cold current. The water tumbled over rocks, and the crickets sang in her ears as the sun dipped further below the pines. Frost would need to plan for the evening, she’d need to eat before tempting to run the miles back to the base. But hunting alone had little appeal, and the exhaustion in her bones dissuaded her from shifting.

She wondered what it would be like to let the rapids take her, if it would drag her south to the sea. If she could disappear like a fossil in the rock beds below the currents. Ancient fossils didn’t have to deal with the pain she felt, the tug in her heart. He was the wrong person, and more importantly, Frost was the wrong girl. It was already luck that had allowed her to cross his path, to speak to him and listen. Then there was the unspoken, fear and experience that had pushed her back into a cage. Venomous words that made her hate herself more than her father ever had.

Frost wouldn’t offer that to Graves, he was already gracious enough as it was. But it didn’t stop her from closing her eyes, fantasizing about showing him every version of herself. Letting Graves take her in his arms, telling her the past didn’t matter.

But she knew better.

“Frost?” She wondered if she had willed him into existence as he stepped towards the river, the hunting rifle slung over his shoulders again. The wind turned in her direction, allowing her to breathe in his smell and let out a contented sigh. “You’re out far, y’know that?”

“Lost track of where I was running, sorry.” She said, quickly standing and trying to dust the dirt off her skin. Ever so slightly embarrassed by her appearance in front of him. Graves had a concerned look on his face as he set the rifle down, an expression she’d never seen that made her breathing hitched.

“Lerch told me you’ve been acting strange. I’m worried about you, is everything alright?” He asked, closing the gap between them until he was standing right in front of her. One of his gloved hands comes up to her face, brushing a few hairs and sweat away with a slow motion. “We’ve moved past keep secrets, you can trust me with anything.”

“There’s a reason they’re secrets, Graves. They’re meant to be hidden.” She said, frowning and wondering if he could feel how hot her skin was or hear the way her heart pounded against her thick ribs. Frost blinks rapidly, trying to keep unforeseen tears from falling. He wasn’t supposed to see her like that, no one was. Staying hidden with her feelings and past meant staying safe.

“Frost, you could tell me you murdered a man and I’d help you dispose of the body. I’m not one to judge.” How familiar his words were to her, like the past was repeating itself just with a different man. A different face, a different heart, a different ending. His hand stayed on her face, brushing the hot tears from her cheeks as he waited, ever so patient.

“I can’t.” She told him, Frost hated to cry in front of anyone. A lesson engrained in her mind from a young age, a lesson she couldn’t easily forget. And crying in front of Graves felt pathetic, it didn’t matter if he was understanding. Didn’t matter how many promises he made to her and her brothers that they were safe in his company. Frost couldn’t.

“Yes, you can.”

“I–” She turned her gaze up to the sky which was a watercolor of violet, orange, and blue as it attempted to hold onto the sun. The knife in her heart twisted further, splitting her in two. All that flooded her mind were broken promises, gnashing teeth, and apologizing over and over again for feelings and things she couldn’t control. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to tell you the truth.”

Graves’ hand dropped from her face, down her shoulders, and arms, and picked up her hands. The leather rubbed against her skin, his thumb brushed over a set of knuckles. It was so caring and gentle that it made Frost want to scream.

“Come on, let’s not stay out. ‘Bout to be a new moon, let’s go into the light.” Graves suggested, still holding onto a hand, another picking back up the rifle before he turned and led her along the riverbank. Soon, they reached a swallow crossing, and she followed him up a rocky path. In the distance through the trees, lights blinked at her in a warm greeting. The trees split apart into a small clearing where an a-frame house stood, and a truck with a Shadow Company bump sticker was parked in front on a gravel drive that stretched back into the trees.

He’d taken her to his home. “Most the boys don’t even know this is where I live. Like to keep it that way, quiet, private.” Graves said to her as he unlocked the house, letting her into the warm interior.

“So I’m special?” Frost asked, a bit of humor in her question as Graves put the rifle up in a cabinet before shedding his gloves and boots.

“Very.” Her heart almost combusted as he flashed a wink at her before walking through the home, moving to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home, if you break something, I will make you buy it.”

Frost shakes her head, taking off her stained and ragged sneakers and trying to force herself to loosen up. The house wasn’t what she expected, he kept a large collection of vinyls, and his shelves her lined with books, pictures, and awards from his long life. But somehow, it made sense to her, reminding her of his cluttered office.

“Why me?” She asked suddenly, turning to look at him in the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of bourbon. “What makes me so special? I’m not a soldier who got the medals for being outstanding, was never the top of my class, and I’m nothing to write home about here either. I just don’t understand what someone who recruits some of the most ruthless and talented soldiers and mercenaries there are sees in me.”

“Well, it’s clear we don’t see each other the same way at all. Because you put me up on a podium I shouldn’t be on Frost.” Graves responded hesitantly, looking up at her from the crystal glass. The light danced in his eyes, his brows knit together as he looked at her. A look of a man who was giving her his full attention. “And affairs of the heart have never been logical.”

She could’ve fallen apart right there, hearing the words leave his mouth felt wrong, unnatural. It shouldn’t be happening. Frost’s feelings weren’t supposed to be returned, they were supposed to fizzle away, staying hidden from sight. His admittance was dangerous, how easily it could destroy her, destroy the new life she’d built at the Shadow Company. Graves called out her name, her real name, which yanked her attention back to him.

“You can’t mean that,” Frost stated, backing away as Graves stepped around the counter to her. She wondered if she could find her way back to the Shadow Company base from his home. Maybe it would be better if she got lost in the woods instead, wandering like a forsaken beast. It would be more bearable than letting herself completely fall.

“What are you so scared of, Frost?” He kept his distance, waiting until she was ready to let him in. There was a patience in his tone, something so gentle about the way he spoke that made her knees want to buckle.

“Everything that I’ve lost and can lose again.” She admitted, gripping the wooden countertops. Her breathing had become uneven again, the weight in the air was crushing. Frost could only hope he’d throw her out in the cold, she thought she’d die if he continued to look at her like she was sun shining after a long winter.

“I can’t change your past, but I can shape the future, and I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve everything you want, everything you crave, and I want to give it to you.” Graves was so close to her, but she was the one to reach out now. Resting a hand against his chest, she felt the rhythmic thrum of his heart. The smell of his skin was intoxicating, causing her to swallow hard. He placed his hand on top of hers, the other settling on her waist. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Before she can think or speak, his mouth is on hers. Capturing her in an embrace as her teeth catch on his lower lip. He surrounded her, consuming her senses as she continued to hold onto him desperately and kiss him. The lingering taste of bourbon on his tongue, the sweet smell of pine needles radiating from his skin, and the warmth of his hands keeping her body flush against his.

Frost could’ve died happily there.

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