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pedgito · 26 days ago

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𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 | Joel Miller x reader

summary | Joel's itch to hunt has became a yearly tradition between you and him.

author's note | i had a very vague outline for this weeks ago that didn't feel solid enough but then i saw some gifs and had to collect myself, a huge hug to @gracieheartspedro for beta'ing this!

content warning | 18+ MDNI, jackson!joel, sex pollen (consenting), hunter/prey OR predator/prey (whichever you prefer), knives, joel intentionally hurts reader (consenting), mentions of scars, waterboarding adjacent (again, consenting), brat!reader, gratuitous smut (unprotected piv, oral, ect), creampies <3, cum feeding, some fluff at the end.

word count — 5k

“S’bout that time, baby.”

Joel isn’t even attempting to be subtle about it.

The itch came around the time the flowers were beginning to bloom and the overgrown foliage continued to make a home on earth, woven and wrapping around the cracks that have settled. It was always calmer too, oddly. Tommy had suggested Joel could take a few shifts hunting in the nearby woods for food—you know, scratch it. But, he didn’t understand the deeper implications and desires that Joel kept hidden away. Though, not from you.

He always had a habit of sneaking up on you in your home, quiet as a mouse you were, but even the slightest creak would give you away and Joel would come swooping in, stealing your heart right out of your chest as it stilled, relaxing as his warm, sweet musk consumed your entire being.

He always sought you out, treated you like prey.

Joel was a natural born hunter, a defender—of his territory, his things.

When you switched jobs halfway through your first year in Jackson, botany to patrol, the idea arises. And that was all it was, at first. Presenting Joel with a set of options as your connection with him grew, seeing the ease of conversation behind his hardened exterior.

He liked that you care, that you listened to him talking about his oddball interest without the return of a retching disgust, tongue peeking out of your mouth as your face scrunches up in aversion. Ellie had done it plenty of times, so instead, you ask questions.

Jackson had domesticated Joel back to his previous state, before the outbreak, with what little he’s told you about, he sounds like he wants to leave that man in the past. You understood him, born within a world of pure rage and hostility, fighting tooth and nail from the day you were born.

You were only a small child when the world fell and you barely remember anything from before outside of what you’ve learned from the elders around Jackson and Joel, who wasn’t nearly as old, but had still managed to live a full life and then some, his time split between both versions of this lifetime.

You had patrol together tomorrow, a full undisturbed weekend away.

He clinks your beer mischievously as his eyes glint with intrigue and a small smile tugs at his lips as he hides it behind the rim of his drink—it wasn’t a reminder, rather an auspicious warning.

–

In any other situation, you would hate this patrol spot.

It was big, too big—why Tommy insisted on keeping it within the route was beyond your understanding, but for Joel, it was perfect.

He’s already digging in your bag for the mauve-hued powder, smelling faintly of berries even with the plastic bag wrapped tightly around it. It was something you had stumbled upon with Ellie during one of your earlier patrols, always following close behind to her wandering, stumbling upon a thick brush outside a forgotten, decaying cabin.

A small plant, completely undisturbed.

Ellie almost consumed the plant out of curiosity, eyes growing wide as you slapped her hand away.

“You’re right—yeah, that’s…not a good idea.” She quickly corrected herself, entranced by the intoxicating smell as you carefully unroot the plant and tuck it away in your pack, hopefully that it would stay intact on the ride back or that Shimmer wouldn’t sniff through your bag before you had the chance to make it back.

“Joel would kill me if I let this kill you.”

“Ah, he’s not so bad.” Ellie excused lazily, “Give him a chance.”

That you did.

You snatch the bag from his hand and tuck it away in your pocket.

“Sign us in at least,” You reprimand him, flicking him in the chest before you direct him with a pointed finger over his shoulder. An old, weathered notebook sitting on the counter of the empty clinic, “sweep first—hunt later.”

You both check your respective sides, dead silent throughout, as most of spring usually was around Jackson. Occasionally a straggler would find a way inside, a bloater or clicker that had wandered too far from the herd, but it was completely quiet.

You had traveled all night, the auburn sky fading to blue as the sun rose in the east, the rays projecting through the large window of the second floor of the hospital, an office that was set up with two beds and a pile of supplies for whoever had patrol that month.

Joel’s stripped his jacket off already, yours following suit as you throw it over.

“You know the drill,” Joel announces, his palm curving around the back of your neck as his other hand reaches for the gun tucked into the holster at your thigh, placing it on the counter, “one knife, that’s it.”

“Same rules apply to you, big guy,” You retorted, reaching around his backside for the gun tucked into his waistband, placing it beside your own gun.

He offers over the hunting knife by the handle, his fingers pressing tight against the sharpened blade, eyebrows raised in anticipation as you look at it for a moment, a split-decision before you shake your head, pushing his hand away.

“C’mon baby, now you’re just makin’ it easy.”

You scoff lightly, leaning down to remove your shoes and socks as Joel chuckles lowly, catching onto your antics as you strip yourself down to the bare minimum clothing you needed without being entirely naked—a skin-tight tank that clung to your curves and a pair of shorts that rolled up your thighs, reducing the risk of your clothes snagging in harder to access crevices.

You reach for the treasured bag of special powder that Joel was so eager to consume.

It was an enhancement—a pollen from a special flower that you still hadn’t identified, crushed down into an herb that you traded under the table in Jackson for a high price. The first time you had introduced it to Joel, he was hesitant. But, giving it an hour or so to set in convinced him otherwise.

He could hear better, feel, sense—it was intimidating, the look in his blood-shot eyes every time he found you, teeth bared as they dug into your skin, rutting against you like he was in heat. Sex was the only thing that quelled the ache that it caused as a side effect, and Joel was insatiable.

It started slowly, the slow thump of your heart quickening as the effects settled within you. Then, the paranoia set in, the heightened state of existence, and slowly the urge of desire would settle in, growing and growing until it was nearly unbearable—eventually willing enough to claw off your own skin in an attempt to ease the ache.

It never got that bad, Joel wouldn’t allow it.

But, something about this batch felt potent.

You felt even more mischievous this time around, your third year of this little tradition and you were determined to make him work for it, drag it out until the final second, as the drug waned as neither of you could take it any longer, wanting to beat him at his own game.

“Like a mouse,” You tease, showcasing the near silent step of your feet against the floor as you lick your pointer and middle finger before dipping them into the bag, the powder sticking to your fingers as you press them to Joel’s tongue, his lips closing around the digits with an intense determination in his eyes, “let’s test out those instincts, old man.”

He mirrors your process, but wraps his free hand around your throat, forcing your chin up and mouth open as his fingers dip into your mouth and press down on your tongue, noticing the way his eyes are already dilated under the effect of the pollen, “I’ll leave a pretty one this time.”

A scar, he means.

Two already existing jagged lines on each side of your pelvic bone as he pressed the blade to your skin in dignification of his victory, soothing the wound with his tongue and lapping up the blood.

You hum, closing your eyes at the sweet taste as it warms your body.

“If you catch me,” You tease, a slight amusement to your tone as you toss your head back, fingers pressing harshly against the sides of your throat.

“Bold,” He compliments, “s’cute—you can’t hide from me, sweetheart. I’ll find you.”

–

He always gives you a head start, it was only fair.

The only downside to the pollen was the overstimulation of sound, paranoid with every creak of the building as the heat expanded the metal, faint footsteps without any idea where they were.

You weren’t a hunter, by any means. But, you knew how to hide.

For Joel, he enjoys the chase.

However, he likes to seek, too.

And he’s quiet, unsuspecting.

The first four hours are spent working your way through the second floor as you hide away in hidden crevices and evaded his approaching figure as he traverses from room to room, knowing he’s wandering around with only the knife you had denied yourself, twirling it in his grip as you whistled, paused for an eerily long time, then whistled again. He's had surveying from side to side, scanning.

Everything was making you jump, even the low hum of the wind outside.

There’s a brief moment as you escape to the first floor that Joel catches sight of your quickly fleeing figure, calling out your name in a voice that doesn’t sound entirely of his own. It was deep and guttural, like a growl. Animalistic and dark, stripped down to his primal instincts.

“C’mon, little mouse,” You can hear the knife pierce into the weakening drywall as you hide between a crevice underneath the stairs, moving to your stomach to crawl underneath and use the advantage of the shadows casted by the sun as he paces around the hall for a moment, “let’s see if you’ll squeal for me.”

His foot kicks through a closed door, his soft whistling continuing as he searched around and came up empty-handed, biding your time under the stairwell for an extended period of time, skin dampy and clammy as the heat crept in, clothes dirtied with dust and stained with sweat.

By the time you feel safe enough to leave, knowing how easy Joel could wait you out, it was already creeping into the evening and you had cursed yourself for being so stubborn and leaving your pack behind—hungry and thirsty, the throbbing ache at your core growing stronger as you squeezed your thighs together and escaped the hiding spot.

You stop, listening intently, the faint sound of footsteps below in the basement.

You knew better than to trap yourself down there with him, knowing how easy of a win that would be for him, hearing the faint tap of the knife as he calls for you.

“I know you’re here. I can smell ya,” You hear faintly, “Betcha she’s drippin’ wet, huh?”

You can picture the sight of him, hand grazing over the denim of his jeans as he pressed his palm against his growing erection for relief, a similar detriment to your own but with two entirely different tasks.

You’ve never tried leaving the building before, but the peak of the pollen was beginning to take hold, your mouth dry and begging, aware of the creek just a few minutes into the forest down the road—you were desperate.

So, you book it.

And as your feet hit the entrance, you hear him.

But, he’s closer now, ascending the stairs to the first floor as his eyes lock on your shadowed figure before you slam the door closed behind you, his voice booming in the distance as the twigs break underneath your feet, wincing at the sting of pain it brings.

“Bad girl,” He taunts, “Breakin’ our rules, baby!”

Outside of the strict use of one weapon, mutually agreed upon, you both promised to never leave the premises, both for safety, and fairness. But, Joel was good—too good. If anything, it would give him a challenge.

You knew there would be consequences, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

–

You had spent twelve hours evading him, bones and muscles aching with discomfort as you tripped, falling to the bed of rocks covered in slimy moss as you stumbled on your knees toward the running stream, cupping your hands to guide the water into your mouth, instantly quenching the thirst that had festered, patting your wet hands against your clammy skin, knees bloodied and dripping against the surface of the rock as you rested for a moment, catching your breath.

You welcomed the silence, wondering if Joel had stuck on the path of the road, unsuspecting that you would veer off barefoot into the forest on your own, constantly sticking by his side, vigilant of the threats that lingered there.

You whine as your cunt throbs with need, hastily shoving your hand under the fabric of your shorts to slide your fingers against the sticky, wet fabric of your underwear, the gentle press against your clit like a shock to the system, your free hand clutching onto nothing but air as you gasped, subconsciously rocking your hips against your hand.

Your eyes had fallen shut, lost in your own pleasure that you forget how vulnerable you are, nearly naked in an open forest where anyone could sneak up on you—though, no one traveled out this far and it had been several minutes since Joel had caught sight of you, the lack of defined tracks to follow proving difficult for him, but then you hear a sigh, a tsk.

He’s on you before you have a chance to react, knife at your throat as his teeth graze against the shell of your ear and he’s wrenching your hands away from your shorts, “Found you,” He hisses through clenched teeth, feeling his cock pressed against your thigh through the denim.

He was hot, burning up—both with a want for you, but physically, like a fever had taken over.

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed until you’re forcing your eyes open, staring up at the opaline moonlight, making Joel all the more threatening as you couldn’t see him, but you could feel him, rendered immobile as he worked himself over your hips, the weight of him keeping you still.

“S’right little mouse, ain’t got nowhere to go, do ya?” He taunts, fingers curling around your head as they dig into the root of your hair and tug, the blunt side of the knife running along your throat.

“How’d—how did—find me?” You choke out through broken, garbled gasps as the drool accumulated in your mouth at his scent, the freshness of soap from a shower the night before but a mix of his own arousal collecting in his jeans, “What gave it ‘way?”

“Can hear those perfect little whimpers from a mile away, baby,” He softens slightly, panting heavily against your skin as he belt jingles with subtle movement, slipping through the loops before he’s disposing of it to the side, “S’that why you ran? Scared I was gonna catch you playin’ with yourself in there—well, look at ya,” He taunts, “Got a special place for this one,”

You feel the cool edge of the knife drag along the side of your neck and down your spine, ripping through the fabric like butter, aided by the gentle tug of his hands as he ripped your top into pieces, repeating the process with your shorts, his fingers curling around the lacy edge of your underwear as he tugged up, dragging the tip of the blade along your cheek.

“Considering markin’ this pretty little ass up, that what you want?”

“S’that what you want?” You retort playfully.

There’s a small prick, another, pulling your underwear between your ass until he can get the blade underneath the fabric and with a quick flick of his wrist, it was nothing but trash, stuffed between his teeth as he inhaled your intoxicating scent, forcing your thighs apart as he cut lightly into your skin at first, an initial to mark his territory.

The letter J forever engraved at the inside of your thigh, the thumb of his unoccupied hand splitting through your folds and pressing against your swollen clit, distracting you from the sharp pain with his movements.

“S’beautiful,” He tells you, admiring the mark but also the way your cunt greedily sucks his thumb inside of you, “fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your hands balled into tight fists above your head as you writhe beneath him, “M’close, Joel—s’right there,” You moan, feeling his hand squeeze at your wounded thigh, his fingers stained with blood as he moves off of you, easily manhandling you onto your back as he stares down with dark, brooding eyes, disposed panties still stuffed in his mouth.

You rise onto your elbows as his hand molds over the back of your skull, nodding toward his buttoned jeans, his opposite hand reaching for your wrist as he guides it to the button before casually yanking the cloth from his mouth and stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans.

His unoccupied hand explores the peaks of your chest, soft and supple and begging to be squeezed, bitten, pert nipple the perfect size to fit between his lips and against the flat of his tongue, finding himself drifting at the thought before your roving touch brings him back.

“You feelin’ gracious?” He asks, “Gonna suck my cock?”

You nod obediently, his hand gripping tighter in your dirtied, damp hair.

He’s waiting, quietly, ominously, only barely satisfied as you begin to pry the button apart and pull at his zipper, the heat of his cock pressing against the fabric as you rub your palm over it teasingly, earning a sharp tug in return.

“You wanna keep up the game?” Joel asks like a warning, “I’ll hunt you through these damn woods, girl. And I won’t play nice.”

There’s a rawness to his voice during times like this, during the hunt. It’s similar to how he sounds as he rouses from bed, groggy with sleep—relaxed, but resting at a deep, booming register.

You pout slightly, squeezing your hand over the damp fabric of his underwear, precum seeping through the front as you lean forward, running your tongue along the cotton before pulling with your teeth at the waistband, tucking his underwear beneath his balls as you like from base to tip in one fluid movement, intoxicated by his scent.

It was mostly clean, but earthy—a day worth of exhilarating hunt and the heat of both the day and the pollen seeping from his pores, he’s salty and sweet, your tongue sliding slowly over the slit before he’s pushing his cock beyond your lips with a solid pump of his hips, moaning at the intrusion.

He favors the soft whimpers as your eyes flutter with the press of his cock against the back of your throat, fucking himself into your mouth with a tight hand in your hair, eyes welling with tears as you gasp after a particularly deep thrust, eyes blown wide as he pulled you off of his cock suddenly, moving to match his stance as you rise unsteadily to your knees.

“Nuh uh,” He admonished, “down, turn around.”

You open your mouth to speak and Joel slaps your face once, sharp, not entirely unsuspected as there was a clear definite line of who was in charge, always testing your limits when he asserted his dominance—you knew it was coming, you wanted it.

“S’your one and only warning,” He tells you sternly, “now turn.”

In times of desperate need and insatiable desire, it was easier to be a vessel to him. Fulfilling his release of pent up aggression and carefully tucked away primal nature, he shifts quietly behind you to stand and strip himself naked, fisting his cock into his hand as he rubs it through your slick folds, puffy and swollen from how badly you needed to be filled by him, consumed.

“So fragile, little mouse,” He takes glance of the weeping wound between your thighs and the flutter of your hole as he fits the head of his cock inside of you, only an inch of his thick and swollen cock, a collective sigh of relief from you both at the connection, “Need to remind you what it means to be mine, don’t I?”

“Joel fucking get on with it alread—”

Joel quickly twists his hand into your hair and pulls your head up, gasping as the hands under your chest curls into fists, pulling you flush with his pelvis as he slips inside of you in one quick motion, feeling the sting as his fingers dig into your skin.

“Smart mouth,” He comments, “so fuckin’ dumb for this cock your forget how to behave yourself, ain’t that right?”

You groan pathetically as he yanks at your hair, “You need me to do it for you, old man?”

You wiggle your ass slightly back against his cock, a harsh huff of breath through his nose before he’s dipping your head under the water as you both teeter near the edge of the rock, with the current you could feel the faint splashes against your skin, but he takes advantage of the gap and dunks your head in the chilled water for a moment, pulling you back up as you gasp.

“You done?” He asks, earning a pitched giggle in return, airy and light as you find the effort amusing, leading him closer toward the edge of the cliff, guiding him into a space that would help him use, without guilt or remorse for his actions.

“Depends,” You challenge, your cunt clenching around his cock as he shifts his hips, one movement from exploding as your clit throbbed intensely.

As a result, he dunks your head once more, this time for a moment longer than last and you find yourself coughing, sputtering air as your wet hair drips over your face, blinking the bleariness from your eyes.

"Always forget how much you like it when I hurt you,” Joel notes with a tone of admiration.

You hum in approval, wretched back by his unyielding hand as he pulls you flush with his chest, your hand flying into his hair as the other drifts over your clit, his hips pummeling into you at furious pace, teeth digging deep into your shoulder.

“C’mon, baby,” He coos, cradling your head in his hand as it lulls back, fingers curling your clit in desperation as his groans melt into your skin, “fuck—she’s squeezin’ me tight, you feelin’ that?”

His hips slow for a moment, deep thrusts as the head of his cock rubs against that nauseatingly sweet spot inside of you, eyes rolling back at the sensation as your orgasm takes hold, pulling Joel over the edge unexpectedly with your whimpering breaths of relief, held up entirely by his own brute strength as he fucks into you lazily, pumping you full of his cum with every thrust.

There’s an immediate exhaustion as instant satisfaction fills your body and his own.

Though, you know it won’t last.

It was temporary, an ease to the ache that had a mind of its own on when it would weaken.

Joel’s fingers drifting between your legs playfully as he scoops up his own cum as it spilled out of you, dripping down the inside of your thighs before he feeds it into your mouth, resting lazily against his frame as he rest on one arm and hip, smearing the slick against your tongue before he brings your mouth to his, a greedy exchange as he licks into your mouth, chuckling as you eagerly leaned in for more, moving forward as he pulled away.

“Easy, baby,” He chastises, “I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m right here.”

–

You can’t avoid how vulnerable it feels to trek back naked, hair mussed and your steps mimicking a drunken state as you stumble, guided upstairs and into the shower attached to the office, small and compact but at least there was running water and amenities packed away in Joel’s pack for you to use, every inch of your skin overly sensitive as you wash away the grime, feeling Joel approach from behind, careful removing the soap from your hand.

“We’re all locked up,” He informs you, doing another quick sweep as you stepped inside of the shower—he’s increasingly more relaxed now, but the heightened senses linger, his gentle touch igniting the fire in your gut as you turn on him, watching as he lathered his chest in the soap before asking, “still botherin’ ya, huh?”

You reach for him silently, pressing your lips to his tentatively, his gentleness returning with the hand that rests against your hip, slowly extending to your back as he pulls you in.

You loved him like this even more—the soft hums he released as you tilted your head to kiss him, his lips parting as you snuck your tongue into his mouth, filtering your finger through his hair and meeting him with a similar, relaxed passion.

Silently, he guides your hand to the small shelf embedded into the corner of the shower and crowds you against the tile, descending on old, aching knees despite himself. He’d pay for it later, he knows he will, but the way your leg instinctively lifts and rests over his shoulder is enough to soothe the pain for a brief time, the intensity of desire coming in waves.

He licks a long strip up the center of your folds, sucking on your clit as he eventually turns the water off entirely, your moans reverberating off the ceramic, practiced flicks of his tongue bringing you near your end quickly, sneaking two of his fingers inside of you as you come, always amazed at how greedy you pussy was to consume whatever it was he gave you.

Fingers, tongue, cock—it didn’t matter.

He peers up at you through a half-lidded gaze, your fingers running through damp hair as he slowly rises to his feet, peppering kissing up and along your body as he stands again.

“Let’s get dried off,” He tells you, “I know you’re starvin’—worked up a big appetite after today.”

Joel carefully wraps the towel around your body as he does the same, tying it around his waist as he chuckles at your smile, “Guess you could say that.”

And just as you think the pollen has finally worn off, it comes like a fever in the night.

At first, you insist it must be a dream, the way Joel is so helplessly rutting against your backside, tucked tight against his chest as you shared the singular blanket and pillow despite the other bed. He wanted you closer, he wanted you near.

You smell like honey and home—home like Jackson, that faint hint of charred wood from the fireplace that was constantly running in your home.

He’s willing and malleable to your movements as you guide him to his back, carefully slipping your underwear to the side as you guide him inside of you, a lazy pace as your chests meet, breathing into each other’s mouths as squeezes at any available skin he can access.

“So goddamn lucky,” He murmurs, “always takin’ care of me.”

His pointed thrust drove his words home, his nails digging into your hip as he came for the second time that night, nothing in his voice left to give as his throat felt raw, grunting pathetically as his seed spilled inside of you, a warmth radiating throughout and a sudden feeling of complete relief.

“I think we’re in the clear now,” You admit tiredly, rubbing your hands gently over his flushed chest as you glance up at him, both of you sighing at the loss as you move off of him and return to your previous position, barely registering the swipe of fabric between your legs as Joel cleaned you up without acknowledgment before he’s pulling you tight into his chest.

“Need to convince Tommy into letting me take up this patrol in the winter.”

You snicker quietly at his mischievous nature.

“Is that all I’m good for?” You tease playfully, “Scratchin’ that itch?”

“A couple of ‘em,” He admits honestly, pressing a soft kiss against the spot behind your ear, “s’good idea—as long as you don’t go breakin’ the rules and runnin’ off into the forest again—”

“Alright, alright, big guy,” You admonish, patting his head blindly over your shoulder as he shakes your hand away, “it’s not like you were really complaining about it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I knew just where to look.”

Of course he did.

You scoff lightly, “Oh, I’m sure—you got me down pat, like a damn book, don’t you?”

“Correct, baby,” He answers, “Ain’t no hiding from me.”

It’s a comfort, knowing he was always near.

Joel would always find you, no matter the situation.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #my writing

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airen-international · 8 months ago

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luveline · 9 months ago

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hi jade! ☺️☺️ ur one of my favorite writers gosh you feed my heart everyday

im currently going through my usual body-wrecking periods 🥲 ur fics are helping

could you write something for bombshell! x spencer where maybe deeper into their relationship she is open with him about her period and he comes over to take care of her when her body is aching or she feels nauseous. im thinking some hair playing or some tummy rubbing.

i hope your weekend is lovely 🫶

thank you ❤️❤️❤️ fem, 1k

Can I come over? Are you home

You summon your first smile of the day, reading Spencer’s text.

Don’t know, you text back, can you handle me?

Usually not, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I’ll bring dinner?

What kind of dinner my love

Maybe Indian? What do you want? I want tandoori chicken

Indian food is awesome if that’s what you want, I’m just messing with you

You can hear his voice in his next text, I know that. So I can come?

You can always come over but I have to warn you, I’m irritable

What’s wrong???

Spencer texts again before you can answer, I’ll come now and we can order delivery, I’ll be right there

You decide to call him before he can make the wrong conclusions. He answers so quickly you laugh down the line. “Spencer, hi, there’s nothing that wrong.”

“What does that mean?”

“You don’t have to rush over.”

“Well, what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“Why do you always think that, babe? No, you didn’t do anything. You’re actively making me feel better just talking to me.”

Spencer pauses briefly. “Really?”

“Really. I’m on my period, it’s kicking my ass,” you mumble, dropping your face into the soft top of your couch. “It would make me feel so much better if you were here. I want a hug.”

“I’m coming. I haven’t brushed up on my hug skills for a while–”

“You hugged me yesterday before I went home?”

“How would you rate that? On a scale of one to ten?”

“Ten, definitely.” You sigh and stretch out your legs. “No, just, my stomach is hurting and I feel sort of sick from the cramps. I’m a bit… depressed, maybe, so you don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I might not be good company.”

“You’re always good company, you loon.”

“You what?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to be playful.”

“I know that, you loon,” you say, grinning. “Okay, you better be putting your shoes on. My patience is running out.”

“I’m by the door!” he says, giggles woven through each word. You can picture his smile, his unbuttoned coat. “You feel sick, should I still get dinner?”

“Yes, please. Tandoori chicken for me too, and–”

“I know what you want.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go shower before you get here and see me all disgusting–”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Spencer!” you laugh.

“I’ll run you a bath when I get there. Can you sit down until then?”

“I can’t believe how you’re speaking to me. You used to blush when I said hi.”

“Because you never just say hi. And it’s not like anyone else saying hi, it’s you.”

Spencer lets that kindness sit with you and says goodbye, promising he’ll be there soon with dinner. You hold your sore stomach and wait, flicking through tv channels, craving something warm to eat and a warmer chest to lay your head. Spencer’s hugs are without doubt a ten out of ten experience, he’s weirdly good at them for someone who maybe hasn’t had as many as he deserves. His hands are active as the rest of him stills, rubbing over your shoulders or your chest with care, his hair soft and ticklish on your cheek or his lips right next to your ear.

You’re dozing when he lets himself in. The rustle of a plastic bag awakens your dormant appetite, and you force yourself to meet him in the hallway.

He drops the bag like it isn’t forty dollars worth of food and beams at you. “Hi,” he says, fawning at your sloppy pyjamas. “These are cute, they’re way too big for you.”

You manage to hug him first, your arms around him and face screwed up in his chest. “Hi. My stomach hurts so bad, I missed you.”

“How bad?” he says, dropping his volume. “Have you ever considered you might have endometriosis?”

“Spencer, I love you, can you hug me for now and tell me about it later?”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Where does it hurt, everywhere?”

“It’s in my back.”

Spencer drops his hand lower. “Oh, here?” He rubs your back, and he leans away enough to see you eye to eye. “Let’s have dinner, then at least you’ll have a full stomach.”

“I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’m starving.”

“You don’t have to eat everything.” He visibly looks you over, one feature at a time. His eyes get stuck on yours, your lashes, and his lovely mouth tips down. “Were you sleeping?”

“Got bored waiting for you. I’m not tired,” you promise.

“It’s okay.” He grasps your back and rubs at it with good pressure, the shard of a cramp held back by his touch. “You okay?”

You lift your chin, turn your head just a touch to one side, asking and not asking. He smiles in that not so secret pleasure as he gives you a quick peck. It’s quick and chaste and everything you need, better when he encourages your face into his neck to give you a last good rub on the back. “Do you wanna sit down? I’ll make you a plate and we can eat on the couch.” He dots a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “I got you motrin. And tylenol, too.”

“I don’t need any painkillers, you’re gonna rub my back.”

Spencer smiles into your cheek. “Mm, I’ll relax your uterus. Rhythmic touches.”

“That’s one way to say it, sweetheart.”

“How would you say it?” he asks, cupping the back of your neck tenderly.

You deflect, not wanting to make fun of him. “I love you.”

He pulls away, grinning, failing to talk. He's smiling so hard. When he goes in for a third round of hugs, you aren’t surprised.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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pashupati22 · 11 months ago

Text

How Recycled PP Granules Contribute to a Greener Future

Introduction:

Setting the stage: the urgency of addressing plastic pollution and climate change.

Introducing recycled PP granules as a sustainable solution.

Preview of the ways recycled PP granules contribute to environmental conservation.

1. Reducing Plastic Waste:

Exploring the magnitude of the plastic waste problem.

How recycled PP granules divert plastic waste from landfills and oceans.

Statistics on the environmental impact of reducing plastic waste through recycling.

2. Energy Conservation and Carbon Footprint Reduction:

Comparing the energy consumption of recycling PP versus producing virgin plastic.

Carbon emissions saved by using recycled PP granules instead of virgin materials.

Studies and research supporting the environmental benefits of recycled PP.

3. Preservation of Natural Resources:

The significance of conserving finite resources like oil and natural gas.

Explaining how recycled PP granules help in resource conservation.

Quantifying the amount of resources saved through PP recycling.

4. Mitigating Pollution and Environmental Harm:

Addressing the ecological consequences of plastic pollution.

How recycled PP granules contribute to cleaner air, water, and soil.

Case studies or examples demonstrating the positive impact of PP recycling on the environment.

5. Promoting Circular Economy Principles:

Definition of circular economy and its importance in sustainability.

Role of recycled PP granules in closing the loop of the plastic lifecycle.

Collaborative efforts between manufacturers, consumers, and policymakers in promoting circularity.

6. Supporting Sustainable Consumption and Production:

Aligning recycled PP granules with sustainable development goals.

Encouraging businesses and consumers to prioritize recycled materials.

Highlighting the market demand for eco-friendly products and materials.

7. Innovation and Future Prospects:

Emerging technologies and innovations in PP recycling.

Potential advancements to further enhance the sustainability of recycled PP granules.

The role of research and development in driving the evolution of recycling practices.

Conclusion:

Recap of the environmental benefits of recycled PP granules.

Call to action for individuals, businesses, and governments to support PP recycling initiatives.

Optimistic outlook for a greener future through continued adoption of recycled materials.

This outline should serve as a comprehensive guide for creating a blog post that highlights how recycled PP granules contribute to environmental sustainability and a greener future.

#Plastic Recycling Industry In India #PP Woven Sack Bag Manufacturer #Polypropylene Packaging Bags #PP Woven Fabric Manufacturers In India

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applelzp · 2 years ago

Video

youtube

PP Jumbo Bag Woven Bag Shredder Machine/PP Bag Shredder/Waste Bag Shredd...

#youtube #jumbo bag shredder #woven bag shredder #waste shredder #plastic shredder

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parknonwovenindia · 1 year ago

Text

Enhance your logistics with EPP dunnage boxes. Maintain air quality with dust bag and activated carbon filters for refrigerators. Ensure purity with liquid bag filters.

#pet acoustic panel #pp + pet felt #breather fabric #non woven battery gaunlets #fiber glass felt #plastic extrusion profile #compressor felt #Activated air Carbon Filters #Liquid Bag Filters #Refrigerator air filter #Dust Bag Filters

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chenfleur · 1 year ago

Text

dreamy nights

pairing. streamer!jake x y/n ⇝ ft twitch chat

genre. fluff, twitch streamer au

word count. 1.9k

released. 10.18.2023

author’s note. i don't know if this requires context but just in case: a subathon is a stream where each time the streamer gets a sub, it adds time to the length of the stream!

masterlist

"That's not how the game works, chat!"

Even with a door separating you, Jake's whines still manage to reach your ears. Pushing down a smile, you delicately knock your first against the cold wood before slowly pushing in.

The room is shrouded in darkness, with the only source of light being the two large monitor screens set up; they're terribly blinding, causing you to recoil ever so slightly.

Too invested in the game in front of him, your boyfriend doesn't notice you've entered the room. This realization dawns on you, and instead of making your way towards him like you'd originally planned, you lean your weight against his doorway, simply watching him.

A fond smile dances on your lips.

The subathon's something he's been planning for ages.

It's something he had promised to his viewers, promised to himself that he'd carry out at least once in his streaming career. He's taken practically everything into consideration—what games he'd play, what guests he'd bring onto his stream, what would serve as entertainment while he's asleep. At the end, a chunk of the proceeds would go towards your local children's charity.

"Why?" you'd asked when he initially introduced the idea months ago.

He'd brought it up over some late night takeout—the two of you sharing food with distant sounds of traffic and quiet, curious conversations woven in between.

The plastic bag rustled as Jake pulled it closer to him, reaching in and taking out two bubble teas. As he slid your drink over to you, he had replied softly:

"Because I don't remember a time where I haven't wanted to do this. I've been given the privilege to give back to all of the people who have made my dream come true. I want this."

Jake Sim never fails to amaze you. You can't fathom how someone has been crafted with so much raw kindness—much less that you had managed to land that someone as your better half.

ari_01: look behind you bozo

"Look behind you, bozo- huh?"

Jake hastily spins his chair around. His eyes search through the dark before landing on you, tucked away in the safety of his doorway.

The sight of you eliminates tension in his body that he didn't even realize existed. A soft smile finds its way onto his face at the way your figure is illuminated from the pale blue glow of his monitor screens.

"Hi, beautiful."

It's been years and he still manages to make you reel at the simplest of compliments.

"Hi," you whisper back.

Turning back towards his monitor, Jake pauses his game. "Alright chat, Y/N's here. She's still a bit camera shy, so no monkey business, okay? You'll scare her," he scolds. You have to press a hand to your mouth to contain your laughter.

milkbread: MONKEY BUSINESS?

user1993: jake get out we want y/n

mariluvr: OMG ITS THE PRETTY GIRL!!! HIHIHIIIIIII

Jake playfully rolls his eyes before beckoning for you to join him. You oblige, pulling out a chair from the side and taking a seat. Habitually your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining underneath the desk.

"Hi chat," you greet, a smile growing on your face as an influx of enthusiastic greeting messages appear on the screen.

A huff sounds from beside you. "Gosh, they're never this excited to see me."

"Don't dwell on it. I'm just naturally likeable," you tease, casting a brief glance off to the side. You expect a retort, yet it never comes.

Instead, you feel a squeeze of your hand. "How come you're up? It's late."

You purse your lips together, embarrassment filling your body at the thought of being in front of an audience of thousands of people.

"Go on," Jake presses.

"Just... missed you."

Jake swears his entire stream can see the way your words makes him melt into a puddle. He tries to—and fails spectacularly at—keeping his smile at bay.

"Yeah? Missed me?" he whispers. You nod, head lowered.

It's day four of what Jake had predicted to be an around week-long endeavour, but clearly he's underestimated how much his viewers love him (or hate him?) as the timer seems to see no end in sight. The only moments you've really gotten to spend with him over the course of the past few days are when he stumbles into bed late at night.

You've spent longer time periods apart, but you're still stirred by longing.

A small sigh leaves his lips. He runs his tongue over his teeth before lightly tugging you towards him.

"C'mere," he says, motioning towards his lap.

You look at him in bewilderment, reluctance etching itself into each of your facial features. "Jake, you're streaming-"

"Mmm," he hums, shaking his head childishly. "Don't care. They already know how far I'm gone. Besides, I need to prove them wrong—they keep calling me rizzless."

A laugh leaves your lips, but you still don't make any move towards him. Sensing your unwillingness, he places a gentle hand on your shoulder to encourage you.

"It's okay," he cooes. "It's okay, I promise."

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, as if challenging one another. His gaze is heavy on you, and eventually, you find yourself folding.

Carefully, you place yourself into his lap, the warmth emanating off of him instantly making you relax. His arms wrap around you loosely, resting on the curve of your hips.

"Stop subbing, chat. You're making my girlfriend miss me."

h3artz: i will literally gift 20 rn. do not start

minlmn: sounds like smth a PISSBABY would say

user0304: think about the children jake

"Think about the childr- Okay! Okay. Of course, for the kids," he laughs, rolling his eyes before redirecting his attention to you.

"Tired?" he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You nod, sinking further into his embrace. "Are you gonna start up the mods segment soon?" you mumble into the soft fabric of his sweater.

Whenever it's time for him to go to bed, his moderators take over the stream for the night to ensure that there's always something going on—whether that's playing games or hosting a makeshift podcast.

"Yeah, soon. Via told me she wasn't available until midnight, so just a little longer. Then we can go to bed," he whispers, fingers gently tapping a rhythm on your lower back. When he feels you nod against him, he turns his attention back to his screen.

mi11: u guys r the reason why i believe in love

urmom123: BOOOOOOO YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE LAME LIKE THE REST OF US #NOTMYSTREAMER

streetfighter: u literally played league for 8 hours yesterday... what am i doing wrong with my life...

"Chat, stop being annoying. You should be happy for me," Jake grumbles. "And hey, to any league players out there-" he points at his webcam. "This is a sign. Don't lose hope, soldiers."

You erupt into soft laughter, removing your face from the crook of his neck and slapping him on the shoulder.

"Shut the hell up," you groan, eliciting a loud laugh from him.

Eyes scanning the live chat, you point out a message. "Look, Jake. Someone said 'not my streamer'," you snort.

"I'm used to it. I think I was collectively disowned yesterday during Uno."

"I heard about that from Jay. You must really suck at Uno."

He grins, hands travelling up to your waist. "But you still love me right?"

You scoff incredulously. "I loved you when you wore highlighter clothing to school everyday. It's going to take more than sucking at Uno for me to stop loving you, idiot."

Jake affectionately pinches your sides, causing you to yelp. Scowling, you begin to berate your snickering boyfriend before the sound of a notification interrupts you.

Upon reading it, Jake groans. "Oh, lord. Thank you for the twenty gifted."

You watch as the timer instantly shoots up another two hours, making your boyfriend close his eyes in defeat, leaning his head back against the headrest of his chair. Smiling, you brush some hair out of his face.

"They keep subbing," he whines. "It's like they enjoy watching my suffering."

You chuckle. "I don't think you should be badmouthing them. They're the ones who fund your stupid financial decisions, like buying a cardboard cutout of Heeseung. Which, by the way, came in today."

"Oh. You weren't supposed to see that."

"What is that even for?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

The two of you spend some more time talking with chat. You share what you've been doing for the past few days since Jake's been preoccupied with the subathon, recounting the bowling night you did with Jay and Sunghoon the other day. It takes you physically shutting Jake up with your hand to make him stop whining.

Exhaustion finally fully catches up to you, making you yawn. Jake watches you fondly before turning towards his monitor and swiftly muting his microphone.

"Go to bed," he coaxes, a hand smoothing over your hair.

You nod drowsily, slowly peeling yourself up from his hold. "Okay. Bye, chat."

"Mic's muted, baby."

"Oh."

You settle for some waves towards the camera, watching as messages bidding you goodnight flood in with a small smile. You think that you're incredibly lucky to be so well-received by his chat.

Jake's hand lingers on the small of your back. "I'll come join you in a bit, okay? I love you."

"Love you too," you mumble.

You begin to step towards the exit when suddenly, you're jerked backwards. A yell would've escaped you if it weren't for the fact that in a fraction of a second, your lips are on Jake's.

One of his hands is at the back of your neck gently pulling you down towards him, while the other one comes up into your hair.

For a second, you completely forget that you're on camera. The feeling of his plush lips on yours overwhelms you—your mind can't help but go blank.

But when that second is over, your eyes immediately snap open. You push at his shoulders, quickly stepping away from him. A scowl overtakes your face as he snickers at your reaction.

You flush crimson. "Next time, if you're going do that, turn off your webcam," you hiss.

"Mhm. Whatever you say, angel."

When you stumble out the door and frantically close it behind you, Jake turns back towards his stream and unmutes his microphone.

user899: MY EYES

redskies: highway looking so comfy rn

plays101: mom and dad get a fucking ROOM challenge

user555: this guy's asking to be slammed with a ban LMAO

Leaning back in his chair with a slight smirk, Jake's hands rest behind his head.

"Relax, chat. I'm not going to get banned. You know-" he pauses, his bottom lip between his teeth as he fails to contain his smile for the hundredth time since you appeared.

Jake hears you turn on the sink in the bathroom, yet the ghost of your presence still lingers in the way his body is still warm from your touch—the way he can smell the citrusy undertones of your shampoo.

"...that's what love is. Makes you do all sorts of stupid shit."

#im back on my twitch streamer shit 🔥🔥#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake imagines #jake scenarios

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