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#if you're my beard I'll be yours
canisalbus · 12 days
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I love that Vasco is his beard's beard
Life is beautiful
😭💕
.
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jlf23tumble · 1 year
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lmaoo are you really pulling the fucking misogyny card here as well?? it's creepy for a 30 year old guy to date a 22 year old, there can be a huge power imbalance in a relationship like that... she's my age and i know multiple girls who had their life completely fucked over by a guy that much older than them, men take advantage of women that much younger than them, when they're that young especially..and if it was the other way around it would be just as bad, someone in their early 20s is barely an adult, trust me i know... nothing about pointing that out is misogynistic..i really don't get your opinion on stuff, it's really fucking contradictory a lot of the time and you don't even realize it, everything is misogyny to you
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alarrytale · 8 months
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Hi Marte! I have a question. How do you differentiate between a closeted queer person doing PR and a straight person doing PR? If I was to use Harry as an example. I think he is closeted and gay but my opinion is mostly based off consistency and patterns since X Factor and 1D rather than him acting flamboyant. We saw him openly talk about his attraction to men before 1DHQ worked with the media to give him a womanizer image. We saw the womanizer image unfold. We see his pr relationships being set up and we can roughly predict what will happen, when it will end, what it is in connection to etc. If I was a new fan I don't think I'd be so sure. Him wearing female clothes and displaying some feminine traits can be put down to him being comfortable in his sexuality as a straight man and wanting to experiment with fashion. Straight men can dress and act flamboyant. Straight celebrities have pr relationships, they push their heterosexuality to sell projects, they might engage in fake relationships because they want to maintain a private life etc. So I'm wondering how would you personally differentiate? I see so many pr relationships happening and I jump to thinking that the celebrities are closeted and have to remind myself that not every person is queer lmao and some real relationships are also used for pr. All I can think is to go by how they act around both sexes. We see that Harry has chemistry with men but lacks it with women. We see that he gravitates towards men and that he's more comfortable around them. That he often looks uncomfortable and awkward around women when he is performing heterosexuality. If it's female friends it's different. It might be harder to tell with HW actors because obviously they play pretend for a living so they can probably perform heterosexuality in public more convincingly. But then I think about J*ke Gyllenh**l and he's a great versatile actor but I've never seen him publicly perform heterosexuality in a convincing way lmao, nothing will convince me that he's straight.
Hi, anon!
This is such a great question! I guess if you were to observe Harry now, without context, without knowing his fandom, what Harry's said and done in the past, or the rumours about him being gay and with Louis, you'd have a hard time differentiating between performative heterosexuality for promo only and performative heterosexuality for promo and closeting purposes.
I agree you'd have little to go on but observing his chemistry with men vs women (but that would be hard to do if he was bi/pan), but also queercoding and of course stereotypes and gaydar. Yes, straight men can dress and act feminine and flamboyant, but it's also very much used as an outlet and queercoding for closeted men. You say that you need to remind yourself that not every person is queer. You are right, but in the business were talking about here there is a much higher rate of queers than in the rest of society. There are more queer celebrities than we know of. They're also more likely to have reasons to hide it than in the rest of society in order to further their career (in the modern western world at least). So if you pick up verbal and non verbal clues, mannerisms and put it together with rejection of traditional gender roles and his occupation and the knowledge of closeting in the industry one should be able to figure it out (at least suspect) without knowing anything else about him.
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chasing-chimeras · 2 years
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“aren't you way too busy / taking care of everybody / to take care of yourself? / when the sun goes missing / aren't the flowers just as pretty? / aren't the oceans just as deep? / the trees as green?” – summer child by conan gray
The Ten Branches by @dinkelmehl
“You are a wonderful person Yargol. I do not want you to ever think of yourself as anything less than that.”
Read here!
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quaintii · 10 months
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Across the Street
Pt.3
Pt.1, Pt2.
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synopsis: Miguel calls you in once more for babysitting. He has a day off from work and something inconvenient happens.
content: 18+ MDNI - babysitting, DILF miguel, fingering, m!receiving bj, praise and degrading, dirty talk, spiccyy overall.
A/N: thank you guys for the support!! Love u all 💞
extra: art is on Twitter by kimmy_arts0912
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Miguel woke up to the sound of his phone burring on the bedstand, clicking the stop button.
9:04 a.m.
He slowly rose off the bed, rubbing his temples and heading to the bathroom. He took his time getting himself ready, it was never easy for him since he would regularly work for long hours but today was a day off.
He took a shower, shaving off his stubble beard with a mirror glued on the bathroom wall. He got out with a towel wrapped around his waist and a small one on his wet hair.
Soon as he finished changing, he went downstairs to drink some black coffee and eat some peppered eggs with bacon.
As he scrolled through his work emails on his laptop, he saw Gabriella at the corner of his eye. She stepped off the stairs, approaching Miguel and hugging his legs.
"Como dormiste, mi changa?" (How'd you sleep, my girl?) He let out a hearty laugh, ruffling her messy brown curls. His focus was now on Gabriella, carrying her with one arm while his other hand pinched her swollen cheeks.
"Bien, papi!" She said as she swinged on his arm. Miguel smiled and lifted her back on the floor, reaching for the chair for his daughter. He placed two plates, a small stack of pancakes with strawberries, butter and syrup while the other was a bowl of fruit.
"Make sure to eat all of it, mija. It's bad to let things go to waste." He spoke as he washed the prior dishes from last night, making him vividly relive the memory of his fingers in you. He couldn't shake the thought of you, he kept spacing out on your touch.
He snapped back to reality when he peered his eyes to his phone ringing, his wife. Well almost his ex-wife, the divorce was still in date for court but they went their separate ways months ago.
He wrapped a towel around his hands, drying them and answered the phone. "Hello?"
"I'm picking up Gabriella later today around 6."
Miguel's brows furrowed together. "What do you mean?!? This whole week is my time to spend with her. I have a day off today and tomorrow." He snapped back at her.
"What's the reason for the sudden change?! Im allowed to spend time with my daughter too." He was fired up but whispered into the phone so Gabriella wouldn't hear.
"She just got home a couple days ago, que te pasa en la mente?!" Miguel spoke. She scoffed into the phone. "You're more in love with your work than our own daughter."
"Well I planned a trip for the both of us and I already have everything packed for her. Relax, you'll get her back in a couple days, bye!" As Miguel was about to yell at her, she hung up on the phone.
"Pinche pendeja.." he muttered softly on his lips.
He was furious but had to remain calm to not raise Gabriella's suspicion of why her dad was breathing so heavily and palming his face with his hands.
After a couple minutes pass, he sat next to Gabi watching a cartoon show to ease himself down. He would then urge Gabi to go brush her teeth and change into something else rather than her unicorn pajamas.
Miguel decided to take Gabi to a new toy shop that just opened. He was still pissed about the call earlier but the thought ended up leaving his mind as his focus was now on his daughter's happiness.
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5:04 p.m.
It'd been a day or two since what happened. Miguel hadn't sent you a message to babysit Gabi, until this afternoon.
"Hey, can you come over to babysit Gabriella? That is if you're not busy with anything."
"I'll be on my way in 5 minutes, Mr. O'Hara."
"Perfect..thank you. Again, Miguel is fine."
You felt so queasy about stepping in foot back to his house but so excited. You wore a summer dress due to the heat emitting from the sky. The afternoon would always be the hottest time of the day where you lived.
You face the mirror to fix the messy curls that sprung up due to the frizz. You apply some lip liner, finishing it off with a red tint gloss.
5:12 p.m.
You knock on the door, patiently waiting. You hear a click and the door finally opens, the sun shined on his caramelized skin. He look almost jaw dropping.. with a slicked back hair look. Loose black fit pants with a loose button up shirt. His eyes gave off a smile smile and invited you in.
You looked around to find Gabriella drawing at the table.
"Hi Gabi!" You squeal and wave at her as she rushes into a hug towards you. "Yay! You're back!" She was eager to see you. "What are you drawing? That looks great!" "I'm drawing a forest with fairies and unicorns!" Her high pitched voice rang in your ears.
You lean in closer to look at her drawing, acknowledging it. You give her a sweet smile, she returns it back.
You step back and walk to the cabinets to get a glass of juice. Your body jumped when you felt a hand rubbing in circles on your ass.
Miguel grazed his hands on your shoulder, whispering near your ear and dragging you further to the kitchen. Gabi's back facing the both of you two, you felt his hot breath fan you; shivers down your spine and to your core.
"How have you been, muñeca? Te ves muy...hermosa." He husked in a low tone. Your breathing slowed down, worried to even peep a sound. "I missed you..was worried you wouldn't come back." His rough hands rub the soft skin on your hips.
His tongue teased your neck, sucking and softly nibbling on it. "N-not here Miguel..your daughter.." You whispered, trying hard to restrain your small whimpers. He hummed in your ears, nibbling on it before detaching himself as soon as he heard a doorbell ring.
Luckily the kitchen had the blinds closed so whoever was outside, couldn't see.
He sighed and you quickly headed to open the door, facing a woman. She had on black sunglasses to block the sun in her eyes.
"You must be the new babysitter right?" She questioned as she placed her purse on the island countertop. "Yes! I was recently hired by Mr. O'Hara, Ms.." You waited for a response from her. "Mrs. O'Hara." She spoke, she reached to grab Gabriella by the waist; a suitcase near the table.
You had thought that he was divorced, you thought pretty quickly to it maybe they just haven't had gone to court yet to fix their situation.
"Mom? Where are we going?" Gabriella prods her head at Miguel and you. "We're going to Disneyland!!" She squeals as she hears the exciting news.
Miguel sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing that she never really gave attention to Gabriella, just spoiling and bribing her.
Gabriella was brought down back to her feet, hugging you and her dad by the leg, waving goodbyes.
You helped her out with packing some of her toys upstairs. When you both finished packing up some extra stuff, you head downstairs, slightly peering your head to see Miguel and his wife whisper about stuff. Miguel's chest heaved as his hands ran through his hair, frustrated.
Gabriella prods her head at what you're looking at and you quickly distract her by asking her something.
"Did you grab all of your toys, Gabi?" "I think so," she said as she rubbed her head and headed towards the door.
The lady drank some champagne from the glass, eyeing you up and down, questionable about you. You were never this nervous, but you worried if she had known.
She averted her gaze back to Gabi, holding her hand and the suitcase near Miguel. "Bye papi!" Gabi squeaked as the door behind her closed. Miguel waved non-stop til he couldn't see her anymore.
He laid his elbows on the countertop, tilting his head sideways back and forth. "Everything okay?" You walked up to him.
"Yeah.. um..it's just.." He hesitated to tell you. "Oh, don't worry! It's fine you don't have to tell me, Mr.-.. Miguel." He sighed angrily, "No no, it's just that..this week I was supposed to have Gabriella. She comes unannounced, not even a heads up that she would take Gabi with her."
As he vented more of his frustration, he felt relief by letting it all out. You were open eares with him, softly patting his shoulder blades to ease him.
"Wow..that's really messed up. Do you have custody of Gabriella, if you don't mind me asking." You spoke softly.
"Yeah, I do. We haven't had the court fully decide yet, it's coming up in a couple weeks. I just hate how she's nowhere fit for her to be actually caring for Gabriella." He sighed and took a big sip from the champagne bottle.
You hummed in return, heading to the snack closet for something to ease him up. "Want some snacks?" You asked. Miguel gets up and walks towards you.
You tip-toed to reach a cardboard box full of gummies, until you felt your body shivering to the touch of his hands around your waist later reaching your bra.
He wraps his arms around you, his touch becoming a bit more daring this time.
"You're very tempting. It's difficult to resist you right now..."
Miguel smiles at you and whispers his words. He then places his lips on yours again, his kiss passionate and eager. He wraps you as tight as he can, his hands roaming your hips.
"Oh, I would love something sweet. Don't you?" He murmured on your neck. His hands pushed your dress up, caressing your plush skin. "Mr. O'Hara-.."
You felt a sharp slap to your ass. "What did I say? Llámame Miguel.." (Call me Miguel)
He placed a hand on your chin to face him, kissing you softly. The second kiss seemed more like hunger.
"Get on your knees for me, cariño." He husked in a low tone, you obediently listen and laid your knees on the cold marble floor. He caressed your face once more, "Good girl.." The praises that came out his mouth made your cheeks heat up, your blood pumping to your pooling cunt.
Miguel's face lights up with pleasure, his eyes staring at you seductively as you kneel down in front of him. He watches your movement as you kneel, breathing slightly heavier. The way you look at Miguel also makes him feel good.
"Mm..."
Miguel's hand then reaches down and he grabs your head, making you look up at him.
"Open your mouth..."
Miguel moves his hand down to one of your shoulders, moving his thumb along your collarbone and then along your cleavage.
"Open wider, muñeca..."
Miguel's smile grows more and more as he sees you opening your mouth. You see his hand moving around your lips, just touching your face sensually here and there. Miguel's eyes never leave yours, and you find his stare to be both attractive and also exciting.
"Mm... Good.."
Miguel's eyes move down to your tongue and then back up to your face. He starts to whisper in your ear, his voice going slightly deeper.
"¿Como se siente esa boca, chiquilla?"
Miguel's breath slows, clearly aroused. He stuck in two fingers into your mouth and you hollowed your cheeks softly as you sucked on them for a bit. He went deeper, making you gag continuously, he took his fingers out licking them clean.
Your eyes landed on his bulge, palming it with your hands, rubbing it harder each time, pulling groans out of Miguel.
You begin to remove his pants by unzipping it and pulling down his boxers, his hard cock slapping his abdomen. The red brownish head was practically fuming for your touch.
You part your lips, laying your tongue out and licking the pre-cum streaming down on his tip. You try fitting all of his cock in your throat but you can't so you stroke the rest of him.
His eyes drop down to your face, his eyebrows furrowed together, savouring the delicious feeling of your tongue around his cock. You bobbed your head faster when your throat relaxed, being able to take in more of him. You clench your inner thighs together to feel some relief on your swollen clit.
His breathing becomes shallow the more he becomes impatient. When you looked up at him with small teary eyed..
He loses it.
He needs and wants to feel more of you, he slammed his cock deeper down your throat. The squelching sounds and low groans of his voice made you whine but it was muttered by his cock in your mouth.
You dig your nails into his thighs to keep yourself steady, you feel like you've ran out of oxygen. But you couldn't care less.
"Puta madre..." He whispers.
The feeling of him driving you absolutely mad, his grip on your scalp tightening with every thrust he took. The aggression shocked you, but you couldn't move since he took complete control of your mouth.
His cock pressed harder into your throat, making you gag on and on while tears streamed down your face. Your flushed out face drew him to his final straw.
His hips snapping against your cheeks, the slapping sounds echoing. The feeling of your fingernails digging deep into his skin, your muffled moans clenching harder around his cock whenever you hollowed your cheeks, made him lose his control.
"F-fuck...you're so good...such a pretty little slut aren't you? So fucking good f'me baby..." He scowled.
You kept muffling mhm's as he would praise your touch on him. His hips began stuttering, his thrusts slowly becoming slower as his cock became more and more sensitive with every warm touch of your tongue around him.
He held both sides of your face in a firm but gentle grip, abusing your throat to catch his orgasm. "I'm c-coming..mhmmf..mierda..." He whined.
His massive body shook with his imploding orgasm, he shoved his cock to the back of your throat and shuddered as his cum was hot and sticky on your tongue.
The moment he pulled out, he angled my face to his, towering over my frame. "Swallow it f'me." He spoke bluntly.
Miguel removed your mouth off his cock, his erection still hard and pulsing. All he wanted right now was to be inside you but he had different plans for you. He was going to return the favor back to you now.
You let out a few coughs to catch your breath and swallowed just like he asked. Bittersweet taste left on your tongue.
"Eres tan buena y hermosa, ma." (You're so good and beautiful, ma)
"Llevantate, amor." He panted on your neck.
He grabbed you by the shoulders and lifted you up, resting your quivering ankles on his broad shoulders. His fingers stroking and prodding at the wet stain on your underwear, his cold touch setting you on fire.
"Let me touch your pretty pussy, amor. Déjame ver ese bello coño.." (Let me see that pretty pussy) He tore your underwear off, the cold air washing your cunt makes you shiver. He lightly slapped your folds to see your face contort and furrow.
Suddenly, his hot tongue flicked your wet folds, and heat swirled in your stomach, your clit throbbing. Your skin burned to his touch as he reached for your perked nipples, rubbing it with his hands and whenever he would pinch your nipples, you would jerk forward; making his nose hit your clit.
"M-more Miguel.." You begged, your cunt clenching around nothing left you feeling empty and so needy. Your fingers wrapping around his brown curls, gripping onto them dearly as his tongue lapped on your clit.
"You're doing such a good job f'me, mi amor. Keep moaning my name like that. Fuck.." He groaned into your cunt. He slid into another finger and the feeling was too much for you to handle.
"M-miguel.." Your pants filled with wanton and lust. Your body jerks forward as he slid a finger inside you, your eyes impossibly rolling back to the back of your head as you choked on your moans, mumbling his name as he continued to eat you out like a starved man.
"Mirame, corazon. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?"
You felt too much and too little all at once, it wasn't enough for you but you felt like you were about to get thrown off the edge as his fingers started pounding you deep inside your velvet walls. You kept twitching and trembling, your back arching off the wall as your body hopelessly writhed for him.
Your nerves began stuttering, going numb along with a knot starting to untie. Miguel wouldn't stop sucking on your folds, his nose nudging your clit. His eyes never left your face, he loved seeing how you responded to his touch.
You started feeling a fire pooling low in your abdomen, your heartbeat pulsing faster than before.
You started losing composure whatsoever, when he slid in another finger inside. He didn't stop lapping on your sopping cunt, your pussy clenching around his fingers made his cock ache for your walls to tighten around him.
"It's t-too much.. m-miguel please mhmgf..fuck!" You sobbed and wailed. Your tears wouldn't stop, his fingers plunging in deeper inside your swollen cunt.
"You can handle it, doll.. I know you can." His ears relished the wet squelching sounds and your sweet little moans. You tugged harder into his hair as you felt a wave crashing down, the dam broke which released a leg-shaking orgasm. Fire sprinted throughout your body, the feeling of it taking over your mind with nothing but his fingers and tongue on your cunt.
Your orgasm came in flooding in and electrified every nerve in your body. Your vision fading to black. Your throat welled with moans and mewls, as you kept blubbering incoherently.
Miguel devoured you without mercy, savoring your juices as it ran down his chin. He kept you steady by holding you tight on your hips as you wiggled non-stop, shaking and writhed under him.
You loved drowning in helplessness of the pleasure as it surrounded you by the waist, leaving you breathless, shaky, and light headed.
You became almost feverishly whimpering since Miguel would still suck on your clit, tenderly. He finally removed himself from your folds, smirking at you while caressing your flushed out face. "Te ves bella así, muñeca. Eres mia..que no?" (You look beautiful like that, doll. You're mine, right?) You nodded as your orgasm finally came to a stop. He rested your ankles back to the floor, holding you up by the waist so you wouldn't succumb to the floor.
Just when he was about to tease you with his cock slowly on your folds, you both hear a ding from the door. Keys ring through your ears and the door creaked open. Heels clacking on the hard floor echoing around the spacious house, heading upstairs. The both of you quickly start to dress up quickly, you knew exactly who this was.
"Miguel!! ¿¿Dónde estás?? Do you know where the monster high dolls are?!?" A woman voice yelled upstairs. Miguel gave you a quick peck on the lips and a wink.
"What is it this time?" Miguel's voice responded back to her. "Gabi forgot her stupid toys..anyways just tell me where they are. She won't stop crying and I need her to shut up."
Miguel refused to give into his emotions and snap back at her so he gave off a small response to her.
"They're in the hidden basket under her bed, the lock is in the bedstand drawer." He answered, looking back at you tip toeing to the door.
You sent yourself off by going back home quietly and hurriedly.
Miguel was once again incredibly frustrated for the intrusion.
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A/N: it's 12:31 am rn, gonna have the best sleep ever. I finally finished it! Leave any feedback, always room for improvement, thank you guys!! (Sorry for the ending once more 😭😓, I promise to make part 4 hella dirty and long)
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Taglist: @thedevax @missussmorales @mxtokko @roronoaslover @livytofine @lolaiitip @luvstuffies @sweetirilly @avatricu @minnbinn @rqdior @migueloharasgirlfriend @t-sillay @brittney69 @honeycovered-bandaids @whatdudtheysay @tuskjohnny @spideys2cute @mushy-mushroom04 @yuki9912 @yumeeesss @noyasanify @ewan-tef @ilonasthing @lia-77 @migueloharaluhver @notsussybaka @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @usagijoestar @itzsab @gh0stcatss @ihateuguys @nyoxklo @xstormstriderx @bontensbabygirl @jroshtssn @realalpacorn @toecurlingstories @lunamoonbby @amberpanda99 @minihorizons @kathleenisdaraptor
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tiktaalic · 4 months
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gay! taylor swift just released a new song, and she's COMING. OUT. as a lesbian? yes as a lesbian! okay. which she's always been! okay alright jesus. it's called rainbow dress. hot summer june. sleepless afternoons. june. wearing my rainbow dress. is this taylor? she sounds bad. so full of pride. listen! what's hidden inside. like the vocals sound bad. jonathan van ness. jonathan van ness! okay. yeah he's gay. her best friend. i wanna have straight sex. she wants to have straight sex? at the gay pride parade. that's not so gay is it? this doesn't sound that gay. just normal sex. she's at the gay pride parade. nothing too weird. it's very confusing this song. yeah. a regular hunk with a beard. i wish there was straight pride. come on. at the gay pride parade. it's like a right wing talking point. if you guys aren't gonna listen? no no no. i'm gonna stop playing it. alright we'll listen we'll listen. we're gonna listen. she's talking about being at the gay pride parade. if this is supposed to be her song where she's coming out like why does she talk so much about straight pride? you have such a limited view of gender. oh yeah. you sniveling fuck. listen to the next verse. the second verse is gayer. i - you guys are gonna like it. who produced this? i think it was jack antonoff. i dream about your sweat. it sounds really bad. dripping down your balls. a sparkling chandelier. does she like this? she's really good at allegory. inside your shorts. julia are you okay? it's an ALLEGORY for QUEER LOVE. the balls line? i'm lost without a compass when i can't smell your balls. jesus ew that's like digusting. your balls are like a compass to my nose. what is this? pause - pause this. julia. what the fuck is this. are you guys gonna talk the whole time? i dont get it! i dont get what you're trying to do with this! where is she jt in the song. ... she's at the gay pride parade. alright yeah let's listen to it. it's fucking gay this next part? okay you're gonna love this part. i hate all vaginas. aaaaalright. it's an allegory! it's not gay at all! this was written by a maniac! no it's gay. even the one i got. dudes go down on me then they wanna kiss. this seems really like gender essentialist and hateful. that's disgusting gay shit. she has internalized homophobia. i am heterosexual. how are we supposed to interpret that? you guys are fucking assholes. yeah you know what we are being a little bit negative. i agree. she's gay. uhhh. you know. maybe she just wasn't like that outward about it with this one song.julia? julia? julia? she's gay! i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i'll kill you!
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talaok · 4 months
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The carpet
pairing: Pedro Pascal x fem!reader
Summary: You and your husband Pedro prepare for a red carpet, but once you're there you have a wardrobe malfunction, luckily, he's there to help.
Warnings: just so much fluff for no reason
a/n: i havent written something for Pedro that wasnt a request in literally 9 months, but guess what the hyperfixation is hyperfixating lately and I just needed to write down what i've been daydreaming about all day.
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"wow" he exhaled, closing the door behind him, his eyes trained on you.
You chuckled, looking at him from the mirror, as a choked "aww" escaped Linda, your make-up artist's, lips at the reaction.
You gave her a look and she just grinned, checking her work one final time before whispering "Seeing you two is better than watching any rom-com, I can't even remember the last time my Mark looked at me like that", making you laugh once more with a playful roll of your eyes.
"you look stunning sweetheart" Pedro breathed, right behind you now, his hands already on your waist
Another dreamy sigh fell out of Linda's lips before she decided it was time for her to go.
"i'll go wait downstairs then... leave you two lovebirds some time alone," she said, excitement piercing through her tone as if she was watching her daughter walk down the aisle.
"thank you Linda, we'll be down in a moment" You nodded, smiling sincerely at her as she started for the door.
But just when a foot was already out into the hallway, she turned around, a serious expression on her all of a sudden.
"And Pedro" she shot him a look "Just this once, try not to mess her lipstick up too much, will ya?" 
You couldn't help but laugh, loudly, wholeheartedly, but Pedro, ever so honest only answered with a "I can't make any promises Linda", before the poor woman groaned and shut the door behind her.
Just as the soft thud of the motion bumped from wall to wall, Pedro turned you around in one swift motion, getting to see your pretty face better.
"hi there" you smiled, placing your hands on his chest, softly playing with the hem of his tuxedo's jacket.
"hello sugar" he grinned, letting his eyes drink in all of you.
"You look handsome" you murmured, your right hand going to his face, feeling the soft stubble of his beard graze your palm.
"mhhh" he hummed, leaning closer already, much to Linda's disappointment "Well you know how it is... if my lady's gonna be the most beautiful woman on the red carpet I gotta step up my game"
You huffed out a laugh 
"'s that right?"
"need to at least try and look like you're not miles out of my league" he cocked an eyebrow, his hands on your waist pushing you flush against him.
"You're a bad man Pedo Pascal" you stifled a smirk "A bad, bad man" you whispered as his lips finally met with yours.
They were softer than usual, but heavenly just the same. 
His hold tightened on you and you melted right into his arms, whimpering weakly into his mouth, before after what was probably a good two minutes, he pulled away.
"we gotta go" you murmured
"I know" he groaned, half-heartedly leaning away.
And as you checked yourself in the mirror one last time, you couldn't help but chuckle, as your gaze fell to your lips.
"Oh Linda's gonna be pissed"
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the carpet was booming tonight,
celebrities filled every inch of the crimson rug, and the flashes of the countless cameras pointed at you were so strong you swore they would have blinded you if you weren't so used to them.
You were posing to show off the gorgeous dress you were lucky enough to be wearing, and once you had exhausted all the poses you knew, you turned to your husband on the left as he offered you his hand, which you took with a smile, walking to his spot and leaving a soft kiss on his cheek the photographers seemed more than a little enthusiastic about.
But as you posed together, his arm on your back drawing soothing circles, an almost inaudible pop made its way to your ears, and all the sudden some pressure was gone from your chest, and when you looked down... when you looked down the button that was holding the two pieces of fabric covering your boobs had popped, and said fabric was starting to fall.
"oh my god" you blurted, but before you could do anything, your reflexes slowed down by the shock, Pedro's hand found your chest, salvaging the falling pieces of the dress.
"I-" you stuttered, not knowing what to say, or do as he moved in front of you, his broad build doing a hell of a good job of shielding you from the photographers
"I was about to flash so many people" you finally breathed, your voice faint.
"yeah" he said, trying, really trying to suppress the chuckle down his throat, but failing miserably "Yeah you were sweetheart" he laughed softly, his hand still holding your dress.
"are you- don't laugh!" you gasped, although with one look at your face, you could feel a bubble of laughter making its way up your thoat "It's not funny" you smiled, chuckling too now.
"no" he shook his head, sarcasm spilling out of his every pore " there's nothing remotely funny about this sugar, absolutely" he smiled, making you want to roll your eyes
"hold the dress for a sec" he said, having you do just that as he took his jacket off and instead, put it on you.
"thank you" you smiled, looking up at him.
"you just worry about keeping that jacket closed" he murmured, kissing your cheek "I've already seen too many men's eyes wondering a bit too much"
"oh shut up" you laughed, rolling your eyes as he escorted you off what must have been the worst red carpet of your life.
"Whatever you say flash" he laughed, obviously very proud of his own joke
"god I hate you so much" you sighed, smiling widely into his chest nonetheless.
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familyvideostevie · 5 months
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day after tomorrow
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joel miller x reader
summary: joel drops you off and picks you up from the airport. you are definitely falling in love with him. 
warnings: modern no outbreak au, game!joel or hbo!joel, fluff, really just a fluff fest honestly, new-ish relationship, falling in love, sweet enough to make your teeth ache | 2.7k
A/N: this is a christmas gift for my dear friend @strangerfreaks who makes my life better in every way possible. i love you! hope you enjoy this <3
___
He's leaning on the side of the truck when you hurry outside with your stuff. 
"Morning," you call. It's barely that, sky still dark and air still carrying the bite of the night's chill. 
Joel straightens up and gives you a tired smile. Most of his smiles are tired but they're always genuine when directed at you. He tugs the backpack from your shoulder and presses his lips to your cheek, beard scratching your skin gently. 
"Howdy," he says in your ear before pulling away.
The travel mug Joel pushes into your hands is warm to the touch. 
"Tea," he says before you can tell him it's too early for coffee. His voice is deeper than usual, still warming up from sleep. It's not a cup from the local shop -- they're not open yet -- so he must have made it at home. "No caffeine before flights." 
"You remembered?" 
He gives you an unimpressed look and grabs your bags. They go in the backseat of his truck and he jerks his chin at the passenger door. "Get in. S'chilly."
It's also early. So early you were not going to ask him to drive you to the airport but when you mentioned you had to go on a work trip he offered. Insisted, actually, once he found out what time you needed to get there.
"You ain't takin' a cab that early," he had said. "Hell, you ain't takin' a cab home, neither. I'll pick you up."
This thing between you isn't new anymore, not exactly, but it's not solid yet. It doesn't have a name. But it's been a few months and you know what his sheets smell like and the feel of him pressed against you in the middle of the night and how he laughs with his head thrown back, mouth wide and eyes creased at the corners. He likes to take you on long walks around the lake a few towns over and you know all about his daughters even if you haven't met them yet. Your life feels a little more solid with Joel in it and the swell of your heart in your chest when you talk to him, when you see him, when he looks at you, is a welcome feeling. It's nice to want and be wanted in return. 
The inside of his truck is warm, your seat heater already turned on. The radio is down to a low hum and there's a silver cup similar to your own in the holder between the seats. Joel gets back into the truck with a slight groan and glances at you to see if you've got your seatbelt on before he clicks his. 
"Ready?" he asks. You nod. He settles his hand on your headrest and looks out the back windshield as he reverses the truck out of the driveway. "Shouldn't hit much traffic," he says. 
You take a sip of your tea and watch him as he drives out of your neighborhood and towards the highway. Part of you wishes you would hit traffic so you could look at him longer. Even in the dark you know his face pretty well by now. His hair is getting a little long, the dark threaded through with some grey and falling over his perpetually lined forehead. The scar on the bridge of his nose that you love to run your finger across and the bruises under his eyes from too many nights up late working on site plans and employee schedules. You don't think you've met a man who works as hard as Joel, and yet here he is driving you to the airport when he could be sleeping. 
Maybe it's because he's tired or maybe it's because it's dark or maybe it's because you're leaving for a few days but Joel lets you look without teasing. His eyes catch yours for just a second and he smirks.
"Why don't you drink coffee before a flight?" He takes a sip of his own thermos. You watch his throat work as he swallows and look away this time. The sky is starting to look purple out your window, the trees and fields and occasional buildings flying by too fast for your eyes to settle on anything. Joel drinks coffee like it's water. You're still leaning things about each other -- most days you find yourself thinking that you want to be learning things about him for the rest of your life -- and this is a new topic of conversation. You haven't had to be on a plane since you met him.
"I don't really like flying," you say. "Makes me nervous. I figure caffeine will just make it worse."
"Don't like it much either." You look at him again and find see smirk turn to a frown as he merges onto the nearly empty highway. "You gonna be okay?"
He asks like it's within his power to make flying something enjoyable, to cancel your work trip, to squash everything in this world that makes you nervous. Mostly you're just glad he's not teasing you about it. Maybe someday you can take a trip and be grumpy about it together.
"I'll be fine, Joel."
"Hm."
He rests an elbow against the window and rakes his hand through his hair.
"What are you up to this week?" you ask. 
He sighs. "Not much," he says. "Lumber shipment but Tommy's handlin' it. Ellie says her shower head is actin' funny so I'll go to her place and look at that. Probably sit my ass on the couch and try to watch a damn football game or somethin'."
"So what I'm hearing is you're going to miss me." It's meant to be a tease but it comes out a bit more earnest than you'd like. 
He sends you that unamused look of his but the mirth in his eyes betrays him, tells you he sees through it. You're learning that he's good at that -- seeing what you really mean, what you really want, who you really are, all the way down to the core. "Course I will," he says. "What man wouldn't miss cold hands bein' stuck up his shirt when he gets in bed?"
You scoff and Joel snickers. You could remind him how he usually catches your hands in his before you make it to his hemline on the rare nights he does wear a shirt, how he cradles your fingers and blows on them softly while rubbing them with his perpetually warm palms. The memory makes your breath hitch just a bit. 
It's only three days. Some conference your boss wanted you to go to in his stead. It won't require much of you -- you just have to attend a few panels, a dinner or two, and schmooze a little bit. You'll be back before you know it. You tell yourself it's silly to feel this apprehension at the distance, the time apart. But you're used to Joel by now and damn if you won't miss him. Used to him taking up space in your kitchen, used to his arm around you on the couch, used to his short texts and heavy gaze. You know by now that it's only a matter of time before you love him.  
"I'll miss you, too," you say softly. Joel eyes you, smirk turned soft again and reaches for you. He settles his palm on your thigh and you cover your hand with his. 
When you get to the airport aren't many cars around and you're pretty sure the attendants won't yell at you for idling. Joel seems to think the same thing as he gets out of the truck to set your luggage on the ground. You leave your now-empty to-go mug in his car and throw your arms around him when he gets to the curb with your suitcase. His chest rumbles in amusement but he hugs you back, one palm rubbing between your shoulder blades until you pull away. 
"Thank you for --"
"Nope," he interrupts you. "No thanks allowed." He hands you your backpack and you shoulder it. "I'll pick you up on Wednesday," he says. 
You wave him off. "I get in way too late, don't worry about it --"
His hand cups your cheek and the words sputter out in your throat. "I'll be here," he says again. 
"I'll call you," you say. "When I get there." It sounds like a question.
His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Please do."
"Thanks for the tea --"
"Now, what did I just say?"
You wrinkle your nose at him and he rolls his eyes before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss just a little though it remains chaste, mouths closed as his thumb strokes your cheek once, twice, before he pulls away. It's the kind of kiss that feels fond, feels familiar. A kiss that becomes routine and for a second you imgaine the press of your mouths a thousand times over just like this. 
"Safe flight, sweetheart."
You smile at him and grab your suitcase before you stand here kissing him all day. "Bye, Joel." 
6:04 am: you make it to your gate okay?
You send him a picture of your breakfast sandwich and the sun rising through the window, painting the sky purple and orange. 
6:05 am: don't text and drive!
He replies with a photo of a full mug of coffee on his counter. It's a silly one, a dinosaur wearing a Santa hat. You think Sarah got it for him as a gag gift. 
6:05 am: home already. let me know when you land
6:06 am: will do. have a good day!
The flight is pretty okay. You spend the bumpy moments thinking about Joel's hand on your leg and get through it just fine. A shuttle takes you to your hotel and you have to hurry a bit to be ready for your first panel. 
You're busy all day. So tired by the time you get back to your room that you flop on the bed with a groan. 
"Ugh," you say, face smushed into the sheets. You're tired and hungry and...you miss Joel and feel a little silly about it.
That sense of puppy love, as most people would call it, hasn't faded. Your feelings for Joel are more than the crush they were when you first started seeing each other but they still linger in the realm of infatuation. You like to look at him, to feel the solid warmth of him beside you, above you, underneath you. You like being near him. But you're also starting to love things. You love the way his voice sounds when he wakes up, the way he says your name over the phone, the way he asks you what you want, how you are, how your day was. You love to see him on your couch, in your kitchen, in your bed. You've started to miss him when he's not around. 
And what you said to him in his truck is true. You do miss him. It's an ache that sits in the center of your chest, an ache that feels like the best kind of bruise -- because it comes from something good. And because you know it'll be soothed soon enough. 
But, because you're only human, you doubt that it's as serious for him. Joel keeps his cards close to his chest and while you feel like you know him pretty well by now you also have so much to learn. So, though you really want to, you don't pick up the phone and call him. Maybe the next time you're away. 
7:54 pm: day 1 done! ready to get in bed. why do men talk so much?
He texts back immediately. 
7:54 pm: god knows. don't forget to order room service on the company dime. sweet dreams.
You laugh and do as he says. 
The rest of the conference goes the same. By day three you're exhausted and your face hurts from smiling at so many people. Your shoes are no longer comfortable and as soon as the closing keynote ends you're out of there, changing into soft clothes and taking the shuttle to the airport. You text Joel a picture of your airport dinner and then your eye bags and he replies with a cute that has you giggling a little too loudly in public. 
You just want to get home to him. Your own bed is a bonus. 
But then your flight gets delayed. Twice. Joel tells you not to worry, he'll pick you up in the middle of the night if he has to. Once you board you get stuck on the tarmac for another half hour before finally taking off. It's a decidedly less relaxing experience because you're so anxious to be home but you make it. When you land it feels like you're sitting in your seat for ages. You're tired and feel gross and you want to go to bed. Your phone turns back on and you've got one text waiting for you.
10:34 pm: i'll be by baggage claim
That was 15 minutes ago. He must have been checking your flight in the air to get here at a reasonable time. God, you want to touch him. You want to stick your nose in his neck and inhale. 
You try very hard not to run through the terminal to the escalator that goes down to arrivals. It seems to move really fucking slowly once you're on it. As soon as it gets far enough for you to see the baggage claim level and everyone waiting there your eyes search for him. You see some families, a few tired children sleeping in arms that hold them tenderly. A group of girls with a sign that reads WELCOME HOME RACHEL!
And then there's Joel.
Once you spot him it's hard to keep a smile from your face. He's standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes glued to the escalator. Jeans, jacket, boots, and a firm set to his jaw that might be intimidating to anyone else but to you it's familiar. It's him. Once he sees you he stands a little taller and you see his cheek twitch. If someone wasn't in front of you you'd be down the steps in seconds but you wait until you're at the bottom to race forward. 
It's probably a bit dramatic. You drop your suitcase and backpack at your feet in front of him.
"Hi," you say, and then you throw your arms around his shoulders. Joel laughs. 
"S'like you're comin' home from war, or somethin'," he says, though his hugs you back just as tightly. "Should'a made a sign."
"Feels like it." Your words are muffled by his shoulder. 
"That bad, huh?" His palm drags up and down your spine. "Let's get you home, then."
Neither of you pull away. "I missed you," you say softly. 
Joel breathes deep and pulls away, hand on the back of your head as he makes sure you're looking at him. 
"Missed you, too," he says gruffly. Then he kisses you. It's less chaste than your goodbye kiss but still perfectly acceptable for airport arrivals, you think. 
"You hungry?"
"I sent you a picture of my dinner!"
"Not what I asked." You shrug and tangle your fingers with his. His thumb strokes the back of your hand. "We'll get you somethin' on the way home."
"Do you want to stay over?" you ask in a rush, realizing too late he's got no reason to want to. It's late and tomorrow is a workday. "I'm just gonna shower and go to bed but I--"
Joel's nostrils flare. "If you want me to I will." Simple as that. 
"Okay," you say. He squeezes your hand.
You walk in easy silence for a few moments. Once you're in the car you'll ask how his week was, tell him about the gossip you learned at the conference. You'll look at him the entire drive to your place, drinking your fill of him after three days without. Yeah, you're going to love him. It's just a matter of time.
"Thank you for coming to get me," you say. 
Joel looks like he wants to argue but he allows it.
"Anytime," he says. It sounds like a promise. 
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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Please! I need the part 2 of “Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen.“ I'm on my kneesss pleaseee it was so good! 😭♥️
Anyways, I'm your new follower 😍, and some of the stories you write is just so damn good😍 (Sorry for bad grammar's, English isn't really my first language, uwu)
im sorry but idk what a part two even looks like. i know a lot of people have asked for it but its... just some couch sex?? idk i'll try.
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Laswell clicked the door shut behind her, and part of you wished she had locked it. Gaz was sure to tell the rest of the team, but you could do without an audience. What would they even see if they barged in here?
The captain had let his cock loose from the confines of his pants, and they were sliding down his thick, muscular ass with every selfish thrust. He was rubbing himself like a naughty dog against your clothed pussy, begging for entrance with every forward movement. Your shirt was pulled down, revealing your breasts, and now they were covered in pink marks from the roughness of his beard as he moved his mouth across you.
Feeling him take each nipple and suck it so gently into his mouth, pulling it in like delicious nectar through a straw, drinking you although you were dry, tasting you even though you had no flavor. It was too much, but he couldn't stop.
You felt a little wrong to be enjoying your commanding officer so much. His humping was making your body respond even as it waited for your guilty conscience to catch up.
"Cap... oh, my fucking God... No, Captain. We shouldn't..." you tried to protest on his behalf, knowing he was being controlled by the powder.
"Corporal," he spoke with his mouth full of your flesh, "I can stop... now. It'll give you... enough time... to run..."
His bright pink eyes flashed up at you in warning and he used both his arms to pin you on either side of your head, forcing you to look at him, the intensity of which went right to your rapidly-melting core.
Suddenly, in a moment of lucidity, he looked you right in your eyes and finished his sentence,
"But that will not be bloody true for long."
As if warning you, he rubbed his hardness up and over your belly, letting it ruck up your shirt, and you felt its incredible heat. It was like a long, steel brand. His skin was smooth, but it was scalding and swollen with his blood. The huge tip left a wet trail of desire wherever it went.
"It's okay, Captain. You can have me if you --"
There mere suggestion of your consent was all he needed to let the dam burst and the river run free. His need crashed from him with an explosive force. He all but ripped your clothes from you, nearly hurting you in the process, making your ankles ache from the sudden pressure as he shucked your pants and boots away in one go.
Your panties were torn from you, sturdy though they were. The fabric made a whining, popping noise as the elastic split. Air rushed across uncovered skin, and your body doubled down on its plans to produce as much natural lubrication as possible. It seemed to know you'd need it.
He didn't touch you. Not with his hands. There was no preparation of any kind. Price fed himself into you like a hand into a glove, a body part in need of sudden and immediate warmth. He took control of your head again, pinning you in that same furious way, and you had a singular view of his face, twisted in a sort of sublime agony as he sank himself into you for the first time.
The pressure was almost unimaginable. Your body was making a lurid, wet, slicking noise as his cock forced you in half. You tried to allow him in, tried to relax, but there was little you could do. He was immense and heavy. It felt like a fist on a strong arm, like a forge hammer, hot and searing. The only thing more tormenting was his voice purring darkly in your ear.
"Fuck, you're warm..."
He pulled himself out of you inch by inch, leaving a terrible hollow where you were once whole.
"Wet for me. So wet. How?"
Back in. And in. And in. It seemed to go forever in and it made you wonder how deep you were.
"It feels so good to have you 'round me, love..."
When the rosy head of him found the end of your wet hole, it sort of... settled there. Locked in, like a key into a tumbler, and each fold of you a lifted pin, fitting him as if you were crafted for it.
"Thought 'bout how you'd feel. Sometimes... dreamt it."
You felt your body give away your surprise. He was too gone to notice it, but not you. You would have been able to feel the planets shift an inch to the left if they dared. You could feel everything. Each and every pore and hair and breath was awake and alive and living in the rawest possible way. Could he have really been thinking of you like you were thinking of him?
"Bloody fuckin' hell. So tight. Too tight."
He was right. It was too tight. He was squeezing himself in with each of these aching, crazed thrusts, shoving himself inside of you hungrily, all the way up to your pounding heart, it seemed. You felt yourself slipping around him like hot oil, running down his shaft and matting the coarse, dark hair that cradled his root.
"John..."
You used his name in place of his title, and he noticed. Noticed it like a hawk notices a hare. Right in your ear, up against your cheek, he responded, too quickly, too much teeth,
"Yes, love. Yes. Yes? Tell me."
He was grunting now, clearly on the edge of his pleasure. You aimed to take him over it, to plunge him into blinding darkness. You whispered, and each word hit its mark like the straight shaft of an arrow, striking into the target one after the other, tearing through the bullseyes like they were nothing but air.
"You're gonna make me come, John."
Again, that unearthly snarl came from his chest, the one you'd never heard before come from the mouth of a man. It was a cry and a scream and a prayer and a plea and had he not been pinning you down prone with his own prostrated body, he would have been growling it from his knees. He commanded you as he worshiped you,
"Give it to me. Give it to me. Give. It. To. Me."
Your body listened before you could even register his words.
From the bones in your hips, you felt your muscles tighten along his iron rod like a fist, closing in on him knuckle by knuckle, and each closure brought you closer to that brink where the darkness turned to blinding white light. You could feel the sparkle of it, that peppery gunpowder flash and then...
"Holy fuck, love..." He stared at you as if you were the sun lighting up his whole life. Like he'd seen you before, all sherbet pink and blazing orange, in the dawn, in the mornings, cutting over the horizon.
Price had come in you. You felt it. It slid along the cleft of your ass and soaked into the fabric of the couch. He didn't mind it. You couldn't. His body was still thrusting as hard and as heavy as before, fucking up into you as if he hadn't just filled you with his thick, hot cream.
"I can't... " he gasped, wrenching his eyes shut, "I can't stop..."
"It's okay, John..."
"I can't bloody stop, love. I'm... fuck, I'm sorry..."
"I'm okay. It's okay," you whispered to him, trying to soothe him.
You pet the hair back over his brow and he leaned into your touch like a cat, purring for more of it. You laced your fingers through his hair and held him tight at his scalp, turning his head so that you could talk to him right into his ear,
"Fuck me how you need to, Captain."
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Did you enjoy this tale or maybe some other work by me? Consider buying me a coffee, if you have the means. Kudos, likes, reblogs, and feral comments also work as well ^_^ Thanks!
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golden-cherry · 1 year
Text
the way you like it - c. leclerc
pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
summary: winning twice does something to Charles - in a good way
warnings: basically porn without plot, smut, fingering, overstimulation, slight choking, mentions of creampie and somnophilia, unprotected sex, poorly translated french
word count: 550
a/n: hello friends. I haven't written in a long time and this just happened and I couldn't keep it to myself. enjoy!
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"Si bon pour moi, mon amour", Charles groans into your ear, his hand on your stomach sliding down to your thighs and feeling how sticky they are, stained with both of your cum. "Regarde combine tu es venu pour moi." so good for me, my love. look at how much you came for me.
"Charles, please." Your voice is barely more than a whisper. With your eyes closed, you blindly try to reach for his hand, his skilled fingers slowly circling your swollen clit. "It's too much. I can't-"
Charles carefully pushes your hand away and you're too exhausted to do anything about it. "You can and you will." You feel his sweaty skin against your back as he drapes your leg over his hip, his front pressing against your back. "Je Saison sue tu en as encore un pour moi." I know you've got one more for me.
You couldn't have known that his second Grand Prix win in a row would not only increase his self-confidence, but his stamina by one hundred percent as well. Right after his victory celebration and all the formalities, Charles had dragged you into his hotel room and you hadn't left the bed since. That was several hours and several orgasms ago.
Your pussy is sore, your thighs ache and the thin skin on your neck is visibly red from his beard scratching over it. But Charles doesn't care. As his fingers gently circle your most sensitive spot, his other arm wraps around you and his hand gropes your tit. As he rolls your nipple between two fingers, you lean your head back against his shoulder, moaning.
"Charles, I-"
"What do you want, ma belle? Huh? Do you want my fingers?" The fingers that were just circling your clit glide lower and he gently slides two inside you. "Tu sens comme tu es mouillée?" do you feel how wet you are for me? He curls his fingers, touching that sweet spot inside you that makes you squirm and see stars. "Ou est-ce moi qui fuis de toi?" or is it me that's leaking out of you?
You can't talk, can't even think as he spreads soft kisses on your neck and slowly fucks his come back into you, his fingers bringing you once again to your climax. Completely overstimulated and close to the pain threshold, you grab his wrist to push him away, almost whining, and indeed he lets you.
Only to then press you even closer to his muscular body and slide his cock home for what feels like the hundredth time that night. Your eyes roll back, your breathing is ragged. "Dètends-toi, ma belle." just relax, pretty one. Charles' hand, which was on your tit a moment ago, gently rests against your throat. As you moan, he can feel the vibration and his cock twitches noticeably.
"I know you're fucked out and tired, but I'm not finished with you yet." He places his thumb on your jaw and tilts your head so he can take a look at your face. Your brows are furrowed, your lips swollen and you're so exhausted that you can only breathe him in. He loves what he does to you.
"And I know that you don't mind me fucking you when you're asleep." His thrusts are slow, but hard. You feel him everywhere. "Go to sleep, mon amour. I'm right here." Charles presses a kiss to your forehead, before nuzzling his face back into your neck, his hips slowly rocking you to sleep. "And when you wake up, I'll still be inside you. Just comme tu lahmes." just the way you like it.
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tarjapearce · 3 months
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Old Friend
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Summary: You meet an old friend in your shopping trip with the family.
Nothing but a slice of life, fluff, bit of angst and a jealous Miguel ~
Whenever it was restock day, Costco or Walmart would be the main places to go.
You'd get the list, Miguel would secure Rosie to his chest, as Benjamin would get inside your cart. Gabi would walk alongside you or her beloved Papa, pushing his cart.
Each would take separate ways, you'd get the meats and veggies, as Miguel would get the rest, powder detergent, cleansing products, and snacks.
"Mama, can I have these?" Benjamin swayed his feet pointing at the  colorful packaging of dinosaur shaped nuggets.
"Course you can, mi niño. Which one you want?"
"I tried the red one last time, I'll get the purple"
Benji's boyish voice echoed around you as you stopped on the frozen meals section.
"Alright, purple it is."
You picked the purple package, a triceratops and a T-Rex on the cover. Then, filled the cart with different sort of meats, Miguel's favorite cuts, hams and of course, lots of canned jalapeños. Orange, pineapple, and cranberry juice, a couple of sodas and finally you got to go to the cereal and coffee aisle.
Miguel was running out of coffee in his office, and back at home you only had a couple of packages. It reminded you the time Miguel nearly had an anxiety attack when he found out he had ran out of the black liquid gold, even in his secret stash.
For some reason the brand he always bought was put on the top shelves. With a huff you looked around to see if there was any ladder, but upon finding none, You stepped on the bottom shelf, trying to get the six pack in the edge, but obviously, you couldn't reach it.
Benjamin giggled when you missed, as revenge you smothered his face in kisses, earning you a loud and bubbling squeal.
"Here, let me." A deep voice rumbled behind you. Your eyes widened at the all too familiar face before you. Reaching effortlessly for the coffee packaging.
"Richard" you mumbled while taking the package, to then put it on the cart.
"Hey" His hand waved softly. Clad in a hoodie, bermudas and sneakers. A little gold band hugging his ring finger. Dull, as his overall aura.
Despite the years coming through, he hadn't lost his kind green eyes. Some wrinkles adorned his matured face. Ricky was only two years older than you, and still had some white hairs poking out here and there.
He sported a short and well trimmed beard, hair parted and neatly arranged to a side. His eyes darted to the boy that undoubtedly resembled alot like you, except for his curious big and round red-ish eyes.
"Whose this little champ?" The smile on his face was coy, but genuine.
"It's my boy, Benjamin."
A proud beam stretched on your face as your hand caressed Benjamin's head, some of his curls trapping your fingers.
"Nice to meet you, champ." Ricky stretched his hands towards him and Benjamin shook it, a tad nervous.
"He definitely has your curls."
You smiled, eyes diverting behind him, ready to meet his partner but, there was none, just his half cart full of car appliances, some diary products and snacks.
"My goodness, you have a beard now."
Ricky chuckled and scratched it. He was a handsome man, undoubtedly. Good and well worked physique. Lean muscles, athletic and healthy looking. Green eyes a shade darker than green apples, pretty lips you liked biting and a healthy tan on his skin, despite him being a pale guy. A couple of freckles adorned his nose.
"And you've got a kid now." there was a bit of disbelief in his tone.
"Three actually. Funny how we ended up doing the things we always said we wouldn't do right away."
Richard gave a soft laugh.
"At least we look good. And I'm sure you're a great mom. How long has it been?"
"I don't know, I suck at math. But I do know it's more than ten years." You pushed the cart to get the cereals and naturally he helped you to get them. Eyes looking for Miguel in every chance you had.
"How have you been?" He tensed a bit at the question, not expecting your openness to talking so casually, specially when your finger shone with a golden band. He graduated college and never saw you again, until now. Gentle and caring as always. You hadn't changed, and he was glad.
"As usual. Existing, trying to keep myself afloat after, uh... my divorce." His mouth pressed in a tight line, green eyes looked away for a second, unable to meet your stare. Ashamed.
Your eyes blinked at his reply. Clearly surprised by such thing. Face falling with worry. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Richard shook his head, and gave a nonchalant shrug.
"Things happen. It's one of those situations that get your eyes open for good." Ricky rubbed his neck awkwardly and you offered a little reassure with a hand on his shoulder, patting it softly.
"Hey, you've got this. I know it's been a while, but I'm sure your problem solving skills are still top notch."
Hw chuckled, almost sympathetic at himself, "I don't even know anymore, if I'm honest. But if you say so."
The voices in the aisles kept indistinct, each in their own world, mingling with the upbeat background music.
"Also... I'm sorry." His eyes remained on yours. Something he'd always do when speaking truthfully.
Your brow quirked, "Whatever for?"
Ricky's hands squeezed the insides of his pockets as he spoke.
"For breaking up with you. Specially like that. It was a d-" He caught his tongue before continuing with the french before Benjamin, "It was wrong of me."
You could only stare at him, and he recoiled further in his spot, shoulders hunched, eyes on the floor.
"If something's worth saying, I... divorced cause my mom also ruined it for me."
You frowned, confused and he shook his head.
"So I cut ties, went to therapy and yeah." He reached out for a three pack of granola for himself, and another for you after you pointed at the brand.
"I'm sorry, I'm kind of confused as to why would you think I'd be happy to know something awful happened to you, Richard?"
Richard's brow puckered. You really hadn't changed at all. Even after he dumped you a few days before Christmas eve.
"I... don't know? Thought you'd hold a grudge for what I did."
"A grudge?" You tittered and this threw him off guard, "Not to sound mean or anything, but I didn't even remember what had happened until now. You know I'm forgetful."
You both chuckled as he nodded.
"Yeah, kinda wondered if you'd lose your head too if it wasn't attached to your body."
You gasped while mocking offense, "That was rude."
You grabbed a couple of cereal boxes Benjamin pointed at.
"But true. In all seriousness, I'm glad that at least something great came after me. Is he a good man?, wait..." He shook his head softly, "Stupid question Of course he is, you married him."
You beamed and this made his chest swell in a mix of happiness and pride. You deserved it after all he also put you through.
"You'll find someone, I know so." It always made him wondered why he was stupid like that to allow his mother come in between.
"I'll give myself a couple of years to heal first. Wanna make sure I don't repeat things over."
It was your turn to get that pride sensation in your chest. Knowing he was making a good progress out of his mother's shadow also made you happy. You out of everyone knew how hard it was like.
"Hope they're ready to listen country music nonstop in your car." He rolled his eyes.
"I know you hated the genre, that's why I always played them"
Your lips pursed with faked anger as he tittered, however, Ricky cleared his throat off the laughing upon watching a behemoth of a man, approaching from behind. Red eyes set on him. A shudder crawled on his skin as he gulped. The baby on his chest did little to appease the intimidating aura around him.
"Mama!" Gabi came to you with an excited face as she showed you her new acquisition. A purple and glittery cover for her phone.
"Qué lindo! Do they have it in blue too?" (How cute!)
"Nah, it was the last one, Papa said this would match with my room too."
Said Papa hugged you from behind, and kissed your temple, red eyes never left him. Ricky gave Miguel a polite smile as he backed away a few steps. Miguel's strong features only turned sharper. It would be a lie to say if Ricky wasn't surprised and intimidated.
Surprised cause you hugged Miguel's narrow waist, a pleased and proud purr emanated from his chest. Loud enough for only you to hear it.
The man before him screamed danger a mile ago. But also, explained lots of things. Like Benjamin's eyes.
"Richard, this is my husband. Miguel O'Hara."
Ricky hesitated for a second, but stretched his hands towards him, big tan hands easily enveloped his in a firm shake.
"Nice to meet you." His nervous smile was like fuel to your husband's ego.
Miguel acknowledged him with a brief nod, eyes not tearing away from him. A quiet She's mine in his eyes.
"Richard and I used to go at the same college. Oh! This is my eldest daughter, Gabriella. And my youngest baby, Rosie."
Gabi smiled politely while holding onto Miguel's hips.
"You have a beautiful family." His green eyes stared at an ever curious Rosie that gazed back at him. Miguel's shoulder's tensed when Rosie gave Ricky a smile.
"Thanks, You'll be fine though. Things take time, but, It all comes together somehow. Just be patient. I'm glad you're doing good on your own." Again, you patted his shoulder, he just gave you a small but genuine smile. Miguel's guts churned as his jaw clenched.
Ricky left after saying his goodbyes, not wanting to impose his presence any further.
"Gabibi, mi amor, can you get the food cart to the line, please?"
"Okay. Don't take too long, please?"
Gabriella took the cart as Benjamin showed her his nuggets, leaving you and Miguel with Rosie alone.
"Alright, interrogation can start now." You chuckled and Miguel pulled you by your waist towards him, ebbing you to walk a few steps before giving a firm slap on your rear.
"Miguel!" you hushed, flustered while looking around to see of there were people and he smirked.
"Wanted to do that before that guy, but that wouldn't be too polite of me, wouldn't it?"
You kissed his cheek, but he quickly corrected the place and pecked your lips.
"That's better. Who was he anyway?"
"My ex from college."
He just hummed and it was your turn to return the squeeze, he chuckled, "Relax. He just got divorced and obviously not having a good time."
"Too bad." He shrugged, a bit nonchalant and you deadpanned.
"Don't be mean. You were scaring him on purpose."
"Obvio. Still, forgot to thank him." (Obviously)
You chuckled as you approached to the line, Gabi waved at you both.
"Thank him?"
"Well, he let you go, and I wouldn't have met you in the first place. So thanks to that."
"Well, he's there on the other line, go tell him."
You teased, but to your surprise Miguel stepped away from the beeline and was walking towards Richard.
"W-Wait! Miguel!" You had skip a few steps to catch him and pull him back to spot, he smirked while pulling you tighter towards him.
"Don't tempt me, mi reina."
"God, I swear. You're-"
"Your husband, mi amor." He smirked, satisfied at his own title in your life.
"A jealous one."
He leaned to your ear and whispered, "Espérate que lleguemos a casa. No te la vas a acabar conmigo, mi reina." (Wait till we get home. You'll see what's up.)
Gabriella rolled her eyes at the flirty atmosphere around you and covered Benjamin's eyes.
"You're too young to see that."
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auteurdelabre · 2 months
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As long as you want - Part 2 - Joel!Miller x f!Reader
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As long as you want - Part 2 - Joel!Miller x f!Reader
pairing: Joel!Miller x f!Reader
words: 4.5k
Rating: PG13 (some adult themes)
Summary: You try to ignore the growing attraction you feel for Joel Miller as he shows you his softer side.
Tags:  Enemies to friends/lovers, Fluff, Mutual Pining, mentions of pain medication, stubborn reader, Joel POV in parts, Tooth-Rotting sweetness in parts, allusions of male masturbation/fantasy, sexual tension, NO y/n.
a/n:  Originally gonna be a one-shot but y'all wanted more and I can't say no to ya!
Dedicated to @katiexpunk once more because there's a good chance if she didn't reach out to me the other day, I was about to quit tumblr altogether.
part ONE here
------------
You wake with a start hours later. The blanket over you feels heavy and the ache in your ribs is sharp. You squirm to relieve the pressure and pause when the sound of light breathing reaches your ears. 
You're not alone in your bed. 
Your eyes crack open to see a familiar face tilted towards you. Eyes shut languidly, mouth parted, face slack with sleep. 
Joel Miller. 
Up this close you can see the bits of grey in his beard and moustache, the lines at the corner of his closed eyes, the gold of his skin.  
His jacket is slung over yours on the chair and a quick glance down tells you he's taken off his boots and is sleeping on top of the covers. As you take this in you also see that your hand is clasped in his, fingers laced. 
How did Joel fucking Miller end up in your bed? And how did your hand end up wrapped up in his? 
You want to mull on this further but the acute ache in your ribs has started to throb. You let out a small whimper at the pain and like he's been shot Joel jerks his head up from the pillow, awake like a broad-shouldered bear, bleary -eyed and blinking. You drag your hand back from his loosened grip.
"You in pain?" Joel murmurs voice thick and mind fuzzy with sleep. He licks his dry lips, clearing his throat. "Need me to grab you another pill?" 
The way he speaks is so casual, as if the two of you were lovers waking from a dreamy night together. So opposite to what you really are: two people who can barely stand each other. 
"What the fuck are you doing in my bed, Miller?" You snap sharply. 
Miller. 
No more Joel. No more soft eyes and softer smile for him. As Joel suspected the pill did a number on you and you can't remember much. You don't remember begging him for a kiss and asking Joel to lay with you. You don't remember your murmured acknowledgement that you felt better with him nearby. 
It's back to how it's always been. 
Joel manages to swallow his disappointment before clamoring off the bed, hearing the cheap springs creak in your mattress as he does. 
"Sorry about that," he says gruffly as he pulls on his boots. "Was just tired I guess."
"I'm sure your own bed is perfectly adequate," you snap, the pain making you even more irritable than usual. You hiss, holding your side. Joel frowns. 
"I'll head out, just lemme grab you a pill first."
"Just g-"
"Quit it," Joel insists roughly. "You're in pain and this'll only take a sec."
His head is woozy from waking so abruptly. He blinks again before he spots your jeans on the floor. You watch him crouch down, pulling the small white pill from the pocket before he comes back to you, the small pill balanced on one wide fingertip. 
"Take it," he instructs.
But you're in too much pain to move, to take it from him. You're also too proud to admit it, hating that he's already seen you in such a vulnerable state. You want him to leave so he doesn't witness more of your wincing and the way your face is gone sickly pale with perspiration beading at your forehead. 
"Just leave it on the table."
"You need it now. I can see you're hurtin'."
"Joel just-"
He takes advantage of your mouth open in complaint, slipping his finger between your parted lips and placing the pill onto your tongue as your mouth closes around his forefinger in surprise. 
The sensation of Joel's wide finger on your tongue startles you into silencing, lips quickly circling his digit. Joel forces his focus to your eyes, knowing if he sees your lips around his finger he's going to lose it. 
You feel his heavy gaze on you as he towers above you standing next to the bed. You watch the way his eyes seem to grow darker. 
"Swallow."
Your own pupils blow wide at the rasped order. He feels the soft of your tongue dabbing against the pad of his finger.You stare up at him in shock before you feel the pill being pressed to your tongue and only then do you swallow. 
Satisfied Joel slides his finger out of your mouth before letting it rest on the plump flesh of your lower lip. 
His eyes never leave yours. 
"Frustratin' woman," Joel murmurs, finger lingering on your lower lip as he stares at you. Your cheeks heat as your eyelids flutter briefly. 
Then suddenly he's walking away from you, his hand stretching before turning into a fist. You watch his tall form lope out of your bedroom and then he's gone from sight. 
///
Kiss me again, Miller. 
The words haunt him. The memory of your lips snagged between his own. The way you'd sighed as you snuggled up against him. 
How is he supposed to forget that? How is he supposed to pretend things haven't changed? 
He throws the front door open, thankful it's empty. Ellie must be at school. He goes to pour himself a drink, even though it's a bit early for it. 
He can still feel your tongue against his finger, the way your mouth was so warm and wet and fuck...  He's so hard he can't stand it. 
He moves to his bedroom, his breathing labored as he shucks off his jeans and shirt, collapsing onto the bed with a growl. 
He takes himself in hand and tries to picture you and your soft mouth. The mattress squeaks under him as he starts fisting himself to the memory of your murmured confession, to the sensation of your mouth under his.
I've wanted to kiss you for so long, Miller.
But it doesn't work, he can't get there no matter how much he strokes and focuses. You weren't yourself when you told him that. You weren't in your right mind when you kissed him. It doesn't feel right. 
He lets himself go with a frustrated growl. And even as he pulls his clothes on and goes about his day he can't get you out of his mind. 
There's a softness to you that he's uncovered. Something you keep hidden. Something he desperately wants to unearth in you again without the aid of pain medication. But then he remembers the horror on your face as you found him in your bed and he feels the shame suffuse him.
"Stop it," he tells himself as he heads out into the cold. "Just stop it." 
///
The night moves sluggishly with you attempting to nap for most of it, your pain pill thankfully knocking you out for most of it. You wake to the rap of your front door. 
"Come in," you offer hoarsely. 
You hear tentative footsteps and try to swallow down the pain blooming in your ribs. Gemma is at your door with a bowl of what smells like soup and smiling gently. You notice that her hair is flecked with fresh snow. 
"Hi there," she says approaching you. "Thought I'd check in on my patient."
You try to bring yourself to a sitting position but end up crying out. Gemma places the soup on your bedside table, her hand flying to your forehead before she's gently moving up your shirt, eyeing your bruise. 
"No fever, thankfully. Swelling is as expected." Her eyes flick to your agonized expression. "Pain bad?"
"I'll survive."
"Good thing Joel was in the stables with you yesterday morning."
"Mhmm."
That's all you'll offer. You have no desire to tell her about waking up to finding the man in your bed. 
You feel your stomach gurgle as the scent of the soup wafts over to you. Gemma gives a sympathetic look before passing you the other pillow. 
"Squeeze this. I'm gonna sit you up."
You do so; a yelp of pain is bitten back before you're propped up in your bed against the pillows. You're still at an angle but it's do-able. Gemma brings a chair to the side of your bed, eyes alighting to your face. 
She does a few more examinations, fingers pressing against your side, her cold stethoscope pressing into your sternum. 
She produces an ice pack wrapped in fabric that she presses to your bruised flesh. You yelp at the sensation despite her warning that it will be cold.
"Sorry," she says ducking her head. "I know it's chilly. Gotta wear this twenty minutes, two times a day. Keeps the bruising down."
"Fine."
"You been drinking fluids?"
"Yep," you lie. You have No desire to share with her that the reason you're not drinking is because then you'd have to get up to pee. And the thought of getting up out of this bed seems torturous. 
"Looks like its just rest you need then," she tells you as she digs around in her pocket. "Now I brought some more pills-"
"I'm not taking any more pills," you interrupt her firmly, even as sweat beads at your temple. 
She goes to reply when there's another knock sounds at the door.
 Who is it now? The fucking Jackson City welcoming committee?
"Come in," you sigh. 
You hear the scuffle of heavy boots and your heart jumps when Joel appears at the door. He's holding a bowl of soup, the same as Gemma. Almost immediately you feel the air change when your eyes land on his before they skitter away anxiously. 
"Uh, thought you might be hungry." Joel glances over at Gemma. "How's the patient?"
"She's fine," you snap. 
"Stubborn," Gemma sighs. "She won't take the pain pills."
"You barely have any," you say to her, ignoring Joel standing awkwardly in your bedroom doorframe. 
"Well if you'd let me finish you'd know we learned about a shipment delivered in Teton Village," Gemma tells you patiently. "Gonna grab it when the snow clears."
Joel perks up when he hears that. He can see by the blanching of your face and the way you're gripping the bed sheets that you're in a lot of pain. But you're scowling at the news, not looking the least bit impressed with Gemma's news. 
"That could be weeks with the snow," you inform her. "The snow is brutal this time of year, not to mention the freezing winds. No one is gonna wanna go out to get it."
"But the point is we have a supply on route," Gemma argues. “So you can take these.”
"And when that shipment is brought back to Jackson and we see how much is in it, I'll take some pills then."
"You're in pain," she tells you firmly. "A lot of it."
"I'd be in more pain if I knew I was taking everything from the community," you snap back. 
The pain is not just in your ribs, it feels like it's everywhere. Your head is throbbing, your body aching and you want everyone to just fuck off. 
"You need sleep to heal-"
"You really wanna help me?" You grunt out through waves of pain. "Send me over some booze so I can get shitfaced and pass out."
Gemma can tell there's no reasoning with you. 
"I got whiskey at mine," Joel offers softly to Gemma. "I can bring it over if she needs it." 
"She doesn't need whiskey," Gemma sighs. "She needs medication so she can get proper sleep and start to heal."
"I'm right here," you grumble, hating how they're talking about you as if you don't exist. You slam your eyes shut. 
"If you're not getting me whiskey I'd like to politely ask you both to leave so I can sleep." 
You hear the two of them pausing, likely exchanging exasperated looks before you hear their dual footsteps head out the door. 
///
Hours later your side hurts so fucking much that you're almost tempted to crawl over to the Jackson clinic and beg for those pills but you stop yourself. You did this to yourself; you went into that fucking pen. 
Taking all the community's painkillers would be so impossibly selfish a thing to do because of your own stupid actions. You can't do it. Maybe when the new shipment of medication comes by. 
There's a gentle rap at the door and desperation is making you consider asking whomever is at the door to get you some dinner. You're starving and so thirsty. Your mouth is like a desert. It's so dry you can barely call out to whoever is standing outside your door. 
There's another knock and you can only offer a mournful sound of pain in reply. You hear the door opening and those familiar heavy footsteps thud to your bedroom. 
He's so broad, so tall, so serious looking. His shoulders nearly take up the frame of your door. 
"What do you want Miller?" You croak. 
"Nothin'," he replies in that familiar raspy tone of his, like dry leaves in autumn.
"You sure?" You sneer. "Thought you might be coming over for another slumber party."
Joel's cheeks go pink at that but he just swallows and comes to take the seat Gemma left beside the bed earlier in the day. 
"Nah I'm all rested up," he tells you smirking. It's then that you notice the amber colored bottle in his left hand. Your brows rise. 
"Is that whiskey?"
Joel nods. "You got clean glasses?"
"Glasses yes," you wince as you squirm and feel a stab of pain go through you. "Clean? Unsure."
Joel smiles before his attention is drawn to the two soups at your bedside table, still untouched because you can't move enough to get at them.  
"You eat yet?"
"No." 
Joel nods before he replaces the soup bowls with the whiskey bottle and strides from your room. 
"What're you doing?"
"Gonna reheat it."
"Just hand me the whiskey bottle." 
You know you sound petulant but you don't care. You want something that will help take the edge off. 
"You're in no position to be givin' orders," Joel tells you over his shoulder as he approaches your small hotplate. 
He looks around your space, finding his lips curling into an amused smile. He didn't really notice the other day but your kitchen is a disaster. Bowls, plates and forks are piled on top of each other in the sink. Your counters are littered with crumbs and pencils and odds and ends. 
"Your place is a mess," he calls out to you. 
"Yeah well I've been sort of busy the last twenty four hours," you snap back loudly. "Haven't exactly had much time for housekeeping."
Joel huffs a quiet laugh to himself before moving to look at your cooking surfaces. 
Your hotplate is in decent shape, probably because you take most of your meals in the dining hall. He knows because he often finds you eating with Ellie there. The two of you get along well. You're one of the few people she seems to stand without too much trouble. 
Joel catches sight of himself in the reflection of the kitchen window. He sees the gentle smile on his face before commanding it into a frown. 
Why the fuck am I here? She can barely stand me. 
But he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. He needs to know you're okay, needs to know you're being taken care of. He knows you live alone, that you're more stubborn than he is and he's been anxious all day that you've needed help.
That you've needed him. 
Back in your bedroom you hear Joel moving things in your kitchen, locating a pot, finding a mixing spoon (when he does you hear him mumbling to himself and then the tap running). 
Eventually he comes back with the soup in one of your clean bowls and a spoon. He looks at you critically laying half wedged before he puts the bowl on the table. 
"Hold the pillow to your stomach."
You want to argue that you can eat perfectly fine like that but the smell of the tomato soup has your mouth watering. You do as he says, holding the pillow tightly to your midsection. 
Your eyes widen as Joel leans over the bed, wrapping his muscled arms around you by the middle, holding you tightly to him to keep you stabilized, the pillow between you.  
"Gonna help you scoot up," he murmurs at your temple. "Ready?"
"'Kay."
You feel breathless as Joel slowly pulls you to a sitting position. And despite how gentle and slow he is with his motions, the pain still takes your breath away. 
You let out a shattered cry before your forehead crashes into his shoulder. Your body is tensed, aching.  
You're so angry, so frustrated, in so much pain you just want to cry and scream. 
"S'okay," Joel soothes. You feel his hand cupping the back of your head. "Go on and let it out."
You don't even hesitate. You let out a small scream of exhausted pain against where his shoulder and neck meet, tears springing from your eyes as you do. All are muffled by the flannel he wears, coming out suppressed.  
"I know, I know," he soothes as he feels your tears soak his shirt. "I know that pain. Makes you feel angry at the whole world, right?" 
You give a whimpered reply of agreement. 
He's right. You are. You're angry at the horse, you're angry at yourself, you're angry at the clicker is you're angry at Joel and Gemma and anyone who's ever talk to you. You're also mad at yourself for getting you into this position. You just so fucking angry and in pain. 
Joel sees you gripping the sheets as he holds you. 
"Just breathe," Joel tells you quietly. 
"Can't," you mutter against his shoulder. "Ribs." 
You hear a soft chuckle from him and it reverberates into your body, despite the pillow. It makes you almost want to smile. He releases you gently against the pillows, looking at your red-rimmed eyes and holding in a sigh at your exhausted countenance. 
He takes a seat in the chair and you watch Joel spin the spoon in your soup, before placing the bowl under your chin and bringing the spoon to your mouth. 
"I can feed myself," you tell him shortly, but there's no ire in your tone. 
He nods and you take the spoon and bowl in hand. He sits back on the chair watching you eat hurriedly. He opens his mouth to tell you to slow down but clamps it shut again. 
He leaves and returns with a glass of water that you take eagerly and finish with a gulp. Joel refills it three more times and you finish each with gusto. 
He takes the empty bowl and spoon from you, taking your dishes to the kitchen and then returning. 
"Better?"
"Yeah," you nod. "I don't think I realized how hungry I was." 
Joel continues to look at you with a strange little smile on his face. You feel like you're being studied by him and it makes you frown. You're about to ask him if you have something on your face when a sharp pain goes through your ribs and you grasp at your side wincing. 
"Alright you did good with eatin'," Joel reasons. "You kept your end of the bargain so I will too." 
He pours you a small glass of whiskey in a clean glass before handing it over. You take it greedily, throwing it back. It burns all the way down, a delicious sensation that has you grinning into your glass. 
"Was wonderin' if I'd ever see that again," Joel muses before pouring a first glass for himself and a second for you. You bring the glass back to your mouth, confused. 
"See what again?"
"Your smile."
You don't know how to respond to that so you just look at the bottom of your refilled glass awkwardly. Joel takes a small sip of his whiskey, watching as you throw your second glass back as well.
"Slow down," he urges gently. "No point in doin' this if you're just gonna throw it back up."
He has a point. He pours you a third and gives you a stern look when you take the glass from him. 
"Sipping only."
"Don't order me around, Miller," you say sharply. "This isn't patrols."
Joel rolls his eyes at you, amused and exasperated all at once. You're such a hard little shell, so impenetrable at times. Joel thought he was guarded, but you're something else. 
The two of you sit in quiet, listening to the sound of the whistling wind against your home. You sip the whisky, wishing you weren't in so much pain when you breathed. You glance around your room, wishing it was tidier. 
Joel watches you, sees the way your eyes flit around the room and wonders if he could ever bring up the other night without you being horrified. 
"Why're you being so nice to me?' you ask suddenly, breaking the spell.  "You're never nice."
"Sure I am,” Joel says looking affronted.
"Not to me."
"I brought you home didn't I? Brought you whiskey? Cooked you dinner? I ain't all bad."
"You didn't cook me dinner. You heated it up."
"My favorite kinda cookin'," Joel reasons with a smile. The whiskey has him feeling warm and relaxed. 
You feel an amused smirk start at the corner of your mouth. You suppress it with a gentle sip of your drink. You let it coat your tongue slowly before you let it drip down your throat. 
"How come you're so mean to me?" Joel offers, though his tone is light.
"I am not!"
He sees the flash of irritation in your eyes immediately and he can't help but be amused. It's very easy for him to rile you up. 
"Are so."
"You started it!" You insist, wincing and the words come out louder than anticipated, the force of your irritation causing your ribs to ache. Joel is still leaning back insouciantly in his chair, regarding you with gentle amusement.
"How'd you figure that?"
"My first day on patrols, I was trying so hard to be nice and do you remember what you said the second you saw me?"
"Nope."
"You said; Don't know why they'd stick me with a newbie,” you say trying to imitate his raspy baritone.
"So?" Joel looks genuinely perplexed. "You were a newbie and I didn't know why they sent you to do patrols with me. Didn't know you were an experienced rider at the time." 
You falter a moment. You hadn't been expecting that response. 
"You were so rude," you insist, irritated that he's trying to pretend like he wasn't in the wrong. "Telling me I was holding my gun wrong, making fun of how I was riding."
Joel takes a moment, looking at the ceiling as he tries to recall your first meeting. He knows he thought you were attractive, he remembers that he was confused they'd paired the two of you up until he'd seen you ride. Your form was comical, but you were good on horseback, even better than him. 
But he doesn't remember disliking you that first day. 
That came later, after your snide comments and rolled eyes. When you shouldered past him in the dining hall and ignored him when he tried to greet you as you walked by him in town. He'd thought you were an uptight brat, a rude woman who put on airs. He'd had no clue he'd offended you that first day. 
"From what I recall I suggested a different way to hold your gun because each time you shot it knocked your shoulder," Joel says remembering. "And as for the riding... Well, you do look funny when you ride. Even if you're good at it, you bounce too much." 
"Better than that stupid way you roll your hips," you bite back. 
You can picture it now, one hand on the reigns, tilted back, hips rolling with each step of the horse. Joel raises the glass to his mouth, eyes stuck on yours. 
"Why're you watchin' my hips?"
His voice is a low purr and there it is again. That thread of teasing that borders on something else. Something... Enticing. It reminds you of the other day in the stables, before everything had gone pear shaped.
You think I'm handsome? You sure, darlin'? You’re gettin' mighty flustered
"Hard not to when you're always going first," you sneer into your glass, taking another sip and feeling your cheeks heat. 
"Wait, so that's it?" Joel laughs. "That's your reason for bein' so prickly t'mer? 'Cuz I didn't know why you were assigned to me and because I tried to help you with the way you held your gun?"
"And the riding, thing," you comment lamely. It all sounds pretty pathetic out loud. Is that really why you've been so mean to him all this time? Because of a misunderstanding? 
"That's why you hate me?" Joel chuckles as if reading your mind.   
"I don't hate you," you mumble. "You just... Get under ... my... skin."
You feel like you want to talk more, but your third glass is drained and your eyelids feel heavy. 
"I think...I..."
You feel Joel take the glass from your hand. He keeps you slightly tilted, your head rolling back drowsy against the pillows. You feel his whiskey tinged breath fan across your cheeks. 
"How's the pain?"
"S'okay," you slur. "But I know it's gonna hurt real bad tomorrow."
Joel goes to rearrange your pillow slightly so that your head is better positioned on it. His hand hovers beside your face as he does this and you tilt to face it. 
"Thanks for the whiskey, Miller."
Unthinking you nuzzle your cheek against his arm before slipping into a drowsy slumber. 
Joel pulls back and sits on the chair, watching your placid face, your chest rising up and down under the sheets. You look at peace and he feels a rush of affection go through him at the sight. 
But you're in pain. A whole lot of it and he wants to fix that. Even if you don't want him like he finds himself wanting you. He needs you to be okay. Wants you back to your normal self. 
What would have happened if there had never been that misunderstanding that day? What if patrols had gone on casually, the two of you amiable? 
Would he have asked you for a drink? Would you be in bed together right now? Would his mouth be between your thighs, your fingers gripping his hair? Or would he have you under him, arms held by him above your head moaning his name - his real name, not Miller - as you gazed up at him? 
The thought sends a shiver directly up his spine. 
He stands; pulling your sheets up, making sure you look comfortable and settled before he leaves your home.  
He thinks about your conversation the entire walk back to his place. He thinks about how things could have gone differently. 
If only you'd both made better first impressions.  
If only that's how it had gone. 
If only. 
631 notes · View notes
saltpepperbeard · 9 months
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OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TEASER THOUGHTS AND SPECULATION POST™
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Okay, to start off, I cannot BELIEVE we got this. I cannot BELIEVE we got a voiceover of Stede's note to Ed. We were all thinking it. We were all hoping for it. I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LEGITIMATELY GOT TO SEE AND HEAR HIS LOVE RIGHT OFF THE BAT. HE LOVES HIS ED SO SO MUCH.
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Followed by this shot right as Stede is narrating. It's difficult to tell, but it seems like Ed??? The one-armed jacket and the fact that it's layered with Stede's narration makes me quite certain it's him. But ALONE??? AND COMING OUT OF THE SURF??? (There's a shot later that has me PARTICULARLY raising eyebrows at this moment. I'm thinking that he fell off the boat/was lost in that one storm shown later, and Stede of course is going to dive in after him or attempt to get to him in some sort of dramatic way. Which makes me think he and Stede are going to potentially talk feelings/reconcile on the beach)
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And the fight choreography of this. Are you actually kidding me right now. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. GETTING TO SEE ED ABSOLUTELY KICKING ASS IN COMBAT??? NEVER IN A THOUSAND YEARS DID I EXPECT TO SEE A SHOT LIKE THIS BUT I'M HOLLERING SO HARD OVER IT (NOT TO MENTION, AGAIN, LOOKING AT THIS AND A LATER SHOT..........I'LL SCREAM ABOUT MY THOUGHTS WHEN SAID SHOT APPEARS HSKDLS)
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Oh, they're PINING pining. They're YEARNING yearning. They're GAY gay.
They want to be back with each other so so so bad I'm losing my mind <3
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"Fuck you, Stede Bonnet." The way he's JUST as dramatic as we were all thinking. The way he's hurting in a way WE ALL ANTICIPATED. LIKE, YOU HATE TO SEE IT, BUT MAN DSJKLDSSDKL. Also, the contrast of him saying that vs Stede's voice over is so so insane. The editors are INSANE FOR THAT ONE.
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AGAIN, GOING BONKERS OVER ED'S CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE HE SEEMS EXACTLY HOW I ANTICIPATED. Outwardly, angry, hardened, and cold. Inwardly, heartbroken, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be back with Stede. Because hello, HELLO, HE'S NOTCHED WHAT I ASSUME TO BE HIS NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT STEDE IN THE WALL??????
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HI OLU HELLO OLU MY DEAR DARLING OLU
but also screaming and crying and throwing up because this is ALSO what i was anticipating/hoping for. the crew being like "ummmmm lmao captain?? you really think you've got this under control???"
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"You think Blackbeard's going to murder you?" I THINK NOT BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EVEN SHOOTING AT JSLDKS. OFF TO THE SIDE??? A WARNING SHOT????? Also the lighting of this and his look matches the ending shot so I'm very eyes emoji at this entire thing.
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HOWEVER...
"MURDERER THRICE OVER?????????????"
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Like sorry, that sign won't stop me because I can't read. Look at him. LOOK at him. You're telling me he stole the wedding cake toppers so he could PAINT HIMSELF ON THE BRIDE??? SO HE COULD MAKE HIMSELF INTO THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HE WANTS TO BE????? SO THAT HE COULD PLAY PRETEND MARRIAGE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND STEDE???????
INSANE!!!
INSANE FOR THIS!!!!!!
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Again, bonkers editing. The split screen. The CONTRAST between Stede's hopefulness and Ed's depression. The WAY THEY LINED IT UP TO MAKE ED LOOK LIKE HE'S TAKING AIM AT STEDE. THE WAY THIS PROBABLY PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATES THEIR CHARACTERIZATION IN THE FIRST FEW EPISODES HSDJKLSDS LIKE BITING THE EDITORS BITING THEM BITING THEM
ALSO ED AND ALL OF HIS GUNS,,, NINE GUNS???????
It kills me because he's probably being exactly what he thinks people see him as. He's probably like "Oh, you want a monster? I'll give you a monster."
WHICH,,,, NO, HONEY. YOU'RE A SWEETHEART, SORRY ABOUT IT.
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AND THEN LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT OUR DARLINGS!!! FANG'S FUCKING SPIKES ARE SO METAL. FRENCHIE'S WOLVERINE COSPLAY SHDJKLSHDLKS. JIM!!! JIM JIM MY BELOVED JIM, AND THEIR PAINTED BEARD. THEIR GENDER!!!!!!!
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Honey hsdksjds the drama of it all. THE DRAMA. CRASHING WEDDINGS TO DISRUPT LOVE BECAUSE YOUR OWN WAS DISRUPTED??? SIIIIIIRRRR THE THEATRICS, THE SPICE OF IT ALL
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excuse me ma'am that is a gay man shdkjshkls THAT IS A GAY MAN. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING,,,
kiss me instead like wtf
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OKAY NOW THIS,,,
THIS.
PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE BABYGIRL IS FIGHHHTTTTIIIING
BUT IZZY WATCHING ON??? IZZY????????????
I have Genuine Thoughts™ about this. I have a feeling that the big arc/character development Con mentioned might pertain to him like, REALIZING what's important, and what Ed actually wants and needs. And a good chunk of that will be him realizing the consequences of his actions, and maybe potentially wanting to undo the damage. And also, in his Bitchy Izzy Ways™, he might also get very very tired of Ed's sulking/theatrics and want to rectify things for that reason too.
So I feel like he's going to sort of team up with Stede and show him the ropes for that reason?? So they ALL can work towards betterment???
WHICH IS NUTS LMAO. NEVER EVER EXPECTED THAT.
REGARDLESS, GO STEDE BABY GO!!!
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HI REVENGE HELLO REVENGE PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC LIKE EXPLODE OR ANYTHING PLEASE BABYGIRL <3
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yeah yeah the titties we've all seen them.
BUT AGAIN, AGAIN, STEDE OFF TO THE SIDE. STEDE WATCHING. STEDE LEARNING THE ROPES FROM THE MOST UNEXPECTED PERSON EVER SHDJKSDS LIKE WHAT!!!
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AND HEEEEEEERE WE GO. HERE'S THE SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER.
THE SAME BLACK SAND BEACH. FIGHTING THE BRITISH. ED AND STEDE. ED WITHOUT HIS MAKEUP ON. STEDE IN A DIFFERENT OUTFIT.
ARE THEY BOTH,,, FIGHTING TO GET TO EACH OTHER??? FIGHTING THROUGH CROWDS AND ENEMIES TO GET TO EACH OTHER'S SIDES???????
WHAT IF THEY FIGHT TO EACH OTHER AND THEN KISS HUH???
WHAT THEN.
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HIIIIIIYYYAAAA JACKIE <33333
ALSO HELLO IS THAT THE SWEDE BEHIND HER???????
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EXPLOSIONS FIRE EXPLOSIONS EXPLOSIONS FEELING VERY WEE JOHN CODED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!
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AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER,,,
LIKE UHHHHHHHHHHHHH
WITH ED ON THE BEACH, AND THIS SHOT OF SOMEONE FALLING INTO THE WATER,,,,,,
I HAVE A FEELING THAT ED IS GOING TO DO SOMETHING THAT ENDS WITH HIM FALLING OFF THE BOAT. MAYBE HE TRIES TO SAVE SOMEONE???
if he fights to save stede from going overboard or something equivalent i'm going to eat all the tiles off my floor <3
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LIKE IT'S BAD BESTIES. IT'S BAD. IT'S DIRE. THE WATER IS SO FUCKING HIGH AND THEY'RE IN A STORM AND JIM IS SCREAMING AND I AM ALSO SCREAMING!!!
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But then also, LOOK AT FUCKING WEE JOHN!!! IN DRAG!!! HE'S A FUCKING MERMAID!!! JIM ISN'T A MERMAID???? WELL, THAT'S FINE--WEE JOHN IS!!! LIVING HIS BEST FUCKING LIFE!!!!! AND WHAT IF HE MADE THAT COSTUME HIMSELF SJDKSDJLS <3
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AND THE FINAL SHOT I'M CHOOSING, THE FINAL ONE OF THE SET,,, MATCHES UP WITH THAT LIGHTING EARLIER.
WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, ED BABE. WHAT'S THE TEA. WHO ARE YOU CLOBBERING.
IS IT US?
IT'S PROBABLY US.
BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE THING HAS ME SO SO SO DEAD Y'ALL
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michealwilliams11 · 16 days
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My Loving Bodyguard
Summary: Tara falls in love with her personal bodyguard.
Tara Carpenter x bodyguard!Reader
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After what happened with Richie and Amber, Sam decided to get a bodyguard for both her and Tara. More for Tara, of course. Tara was against it at first, thinking that Sam was overreacting, but as soon as she saw the bodyguard. It was a whole different story. Tara was confused about her feelings. She didn't know if she liked Chad or you. She felt all giddy with Chad, and he was very hot. She felt the same with you, but you were just hotter and just couldn't stop thinking about you.
When Tara went to parties, you always tagged along. Some drunk girls would try to flirt with you, but you would always decline. Of course, Tara would get jealous, but she was glad you always rejected them. Of course, her stay in parties would be short since you were there, like if she goes at 8, she'll come back home at 9:30. Sam was glad about that, and she was always informed about any parties Tara went to. The core four is the family you thought you never needed.
You and Tara were walking to another party with her friends. You suggested to use your car, but Tara said she wanted to walk with her friends. You of course agreed and went with her. "How do I look? Do I look like a pirate?" Tara asked, with her hands behind her back. You looked Tara up and down, your eyes lingering on her legs before you looked away. Tara somewhat was turned on from your gaze.
"The leggings don't give pirate style, but they sure do give Tara style." You said with a smirk, earning a chuckle from Tara. You and Tara kept on walking before Tara spotted one of her friends. "Oh, hey Tara." One of her collage friends greeted. You quickly went by Tara's side wen she walked a few steps closer to him. "Jason, are you and Greg gonna come to the OKB party?" Tara said, pointing behind to her friends who were still walking. "Well, if he finishes his Spanish project in time, yes we will." Jason said smiling.
"Is your sister coming?" Jason asked with furrowed brows. 'The fuck kind of question is that?!' You thought but kept a straight face. "No, Sam wouldn't be caught dead in a frat party." Tara said with a big grin. "There's a first time for everything." Jason said with a pointed look. "Not tonight though" Tara said while walking back with you. "Can't convince her?!" Jason asked with a stupid smirk.
'What is wrong with this kid?!' "No. That's not my problem, that's yours." Tara said with a giddy tone. "Save me a drink!" He called out. "All right, I'll see you." Tara said before completely walking away. You huffed, gaining attention from Tara. "What? You jealous?" Tara asked with a smirk. "Of what? That?"-You looked back at Jason-"Yeah sure." You said with a sarcastic tone earning a giggle from Tara.
-
The party was going great, surprisingly no one was flirting with you and Tara hasn't tried getting into people's pants. Everything was going well, Anika and Mindy were lovingly chatting on a coach, Chad and Ethan were taking shots and dancing, Tara went to go find you and her a drink and you're searching for her. That's when you saw her by the stairs, a bearded man was leading her upstairs. You quickly ran up to them.
"Sorry sir, she stays downstairs with me." You said with a fake closed lip smile. "Y/N!" Tara squealed as she hugged you tightly, clearly drunk. "Well, she wants to go. Right?" The bearded man asked Tara. "Yeah." Tara said, nodding her head, seeming unsure about her answer. "Where's my drink, Tara?" You asked, raising a brow to the girl. "We're gonna go get it." Tara said with the biggest grin, pointing upstairs. "See? She wants to come." The bearded man said before dragging Tara upstairs, making her fall on some stairs with an "Ow" and some hisses.
"Hey!!" You said, grabbing the bearded man from the collar and slamming him against the wall before headbutting him. He hissed but he groaned after you kicked him in the balls and threw him down the stairs. You started kicking him in the stomach all over, again and again and Chad had to pull you away from him. There were some gasps and a smirk from Sam's face from nearby. "Y/N! Why did you do that?!" Tara shouted at you, pushing you with an annoyed tone. She then walked away with a huff. You quickly ran after her, as well as the other members of the core four.
"Tara!! Wait up!!" You shouted, running after Tara. 'For someone who's small, she sure can run' You thought when you finally caught up. "Why did you that?!! You embarrassed me!!" Tara said, finally stopping. "You're worried about your reputation then getting raped?!" You said with no shame at all. "I wasn't-" Tara stopped herself as her fingers went down her face. "You need to stop." Tara said, pointing at you. "What did I do, other then I don't know, protect you?!" You fought back. Whenever you and Tara fought, it was like talking to a mirror. Both of you shared the same energy when angry.
"Well I don't need protecting anymore!" Tara responded, fed up about having a bodyguard. "You say that now but when fucking Ghostface pops up! Who are you going to run to next? Hmm?" You said out of anger. Tara stood shocked, her reply for anything gone. You suddenly realized what a dick you are. "Tara, wait, I didn't-" You said, reaching to hold her hand. "Fuck you Y/N." Tara said with tears almost dropping before she walked away. When Tara was out of sight, the rest of the group came running. "What happened?!" Sam asked, looking between an angry Tara and a sad Y/N. "Nothing. I'm gonna go visit my sister." You said, giving Sam a small smile before you were able to walk away. Some girls came over and threw a drink on you, one of them shouting "Murderer!". You sighed, having no energy for bullshit anymore before walking away.
-
You knocked on the door of your sister's apartment. "Come in!" Came from the inside. You shook your head. You had told your sister every time not to do that because you never know who is coming in! You came in and closed the door behind you. "Sis?" You shouted out in the room. Your sister, Olivia, came around the corner with only a towel around her body. "Y/N!" She shouted before running to you in full speed and pulled you in a bear hug. "I missed you too." You chuckled, hugging her small body. "How's collage been?" You asked, letting her go. "I missed you so much." She said with the biggest smile.
"Why don't you go get dressed?" You said, motioning to her towel. "Why are you wet and smell like alcohol?" Suddenly your sister gasped. "You went to a party?!" She asked, jumping up and down. "Only cause of Tara." You said, putting the McDonald's you got on the way here on the counter. "You like her, don't you?" Olivia asked with a smile. "I guess so." You said, not really paying attention. "Mind if I change clothes?" You asked, taking your suit jacket off. "Nope." Olivia said, already chowing down on the fries.
You went to the guest room that usually was where you slept when you came over. You opened the closet to find anything to wear. There was some stuff that didn't seem comfortable, so you just went with some sweatpants, white shirt and a sweater over it. You went back to the kitchen and Olivia was finally dressed and sipping on her Pepsi. "Leaving already?" Olivia asked with pout on her face. "Sorry, love you." You said, kissing Olivia on the forehead before leaving her apartment.
There was another knock on the door a few minutes after you left. "Come in!" Olivia shouted, sipping on her Pepsi while scrolling for a Netflix movie to watch. Officer Bailey came in; he closed the door behind him before fully coming in. "Miss L/N?" The cop asked, as Olivia quickly stood up. "Evening officer, what do I pay your visit?" She asked, somewhat confused on why a cop was in her apartment at this time at night.
Olivia gasped as Officer Bailey stabbed her in the stomach and twisted it. "You stole your dear sibling's death, bad decision." Bailey said with a sickening grin. Olivia gripped on Bailey's shoulder. Bailey quickly dodged her, resulting to Olivia falling against her dinner table and grabbing a butter knife in the process. Bailey stomped onto Olivia's right leg, a bone cracking sound coming from it, making Olivia scream her lungs out. Baily took her from her hair but Olivia quickly turned and stabbed him in the neck. Bailey let out a gasp as blood came out he's mouth as he did so.
Olivia twisted the knife as Officer Bailey fell on Olivia's body. She pushed his body off and laid there for a while. After a while, she crawled to her phone and dialed your number. God, she hoped you would be here soon.
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blingblong55 · 7 months
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Young and Beautiful-Alejandro Vargas NSFW
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A/N: so desperately want to kiss him, look at that cute face uggghhh
Based on a request:
Hi Kasper 🖤 If there is a spot available still, could I get an Alejandro Vargas x f!reader with a breeding kink + dbf au?? if you're not doing 2 from the list, either is fine. Thank you, I hope you have a good weekend --- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, dbf!Alejandro, breeding, unprotected!sex P-in-V, age gap, gentle!sex ---
A/N: all characters are of consensual/legal age
It started with an innocent question that now has his hand over your mouth as he fingers you. Your tried to suppress the moans from escaping but his thick fingers kept rubbing your clit and giving you the pleasure you longed for. "Ale-" You try to stop him but all he does is undo his trousers. Your dad and mum are downstairs as he corrupts the daughter of his best friend. "Shhh chula, be a good girl and keep quiet," he kisses your lips this time and slowly pushes himself onto you. His hands under your shirt, neck kisses that guarantee hickeys to be shown.
Clothes were thrown to the side, "I'll take good care of you," he whispers and rubs his tip on your clit. Your legs spread open for him. The bedroom of his friend's 'little girl' now used to have sex in. He gives your clit a few smacks with his tip before slowly slipping it inside you. You gasp, his size too much to take, you let out a whimper to which he kisses you to keep the noise down. "It's okay, be a good girl and take it," he whispers between kisses. Your hands are on his back, holding him close as he thrusts into you with care. His kisses are intense, tongue lapping yours, fighting for that bit of dominance, he can't take back what he said. "I'll ruin you, Chula." A promise he meant to keep.
His thick cock nearly too deep into you, hitting all the right spots, your clit rubbed on by his fingers. "I bet you fingered yourself to me, huh." a cocky smirk on him. Oh, how he loved to know you dreamt of this moment, to get absolutely corrupted by a man like him. His not-so-innocent girl had a vibrator in her drawer, one he planned on using, not tonight, but maybe tomorrow for yet another 'friendly' dinner. "Wouldn't you look so cute, filled with my kids," he kisses you again. His kiss is like drugs to you, addicting yet alluring. You can't help but bite his lip in return, trying to stay quiet for him. His cock now fucking into you with rhythm, and you let out a moan. "Shh, wouldn't want to let daddy know what his friend is doing to his daughter, now would we?" His chuckle is deep and rich with lust.
His back with light scratches from you, your neck with two visible love bites. His hand goes to your tummy rubbing it and looking into your eyes, "Look at you, so perfect and even more so if I fucked my kids into you," his beard tickles the skin of your jaw as he whispers. A knock from the door, "R/N, Ale, you ready?" A surprise he and you were in the room to begin with. Another innocent question he gave you months ago. The surprise in the closet as your cunt gets filled with his cock. You clear your throat, "Almost done Dad, fixing a few stuff." you call out the lie. "Alright honey," your dad responds and heads back to the longue. "mmm, what a bad liar, mi corazon," a smirk like the devil as he notices your hand fly to the one he had on your clit.
"C'mon, let go for me," he ensures. Your head is thrown back as your juices leak all over his thick and needy cock. He smiles, "That's it, that's a good girl," he watches you ride this high. Your hips rocked into his cock, his pre-cum leaking into you. "Oh, what beautiful face you have, R/N," he grins, adoring how you try your best to keep quiet as he brings you to the first orgasm of the night. He holds your hips, thrusts become faster and whispered groans escape his lips. "Ale...Ale" desperate whispers leave your lips. "I know, Chula," his voice soft. The tip of his fat cock, filling your walls with his cum. You can feel him fill you up, cum leaking out as he continues to thrust.
Hard and slow thrusts that turn to whispers of sweet nothings, that's what he offers as he wipes the tears from your pretty face. "Ay mi amor, don't cry," he kisses your forehead before trailing down to your cheeks and lips. He pulled out and laid next to you, big arms holding you. Your head resting on his chest, hair brushed by his fingers. "You really are a dream, R/N." His gaze is on the ceiling. Naked bodies lay together, resting from the high you gave the other. Kisses to his chest before he brings those kisses back to his lips. New promises made, corruption, possession, love and secrecy. The young and beautiful, the soldier and corruptor, kissing to lock the deal.
Tags: @sharkssharkssharkssharks @warningofeve @constantlypr0crastinating @sswweetteerr @tokkitak @kit-kats06 @vivii-annx @cooliofango @radiantblog
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hello how are you it if my first time asking but what do you think it would be like if white beard had a daughter and she went on shanks crew like he haven’t seen his daughter for years and then he see her on shanks crew
also I love you writing you my favvvv
Imagine being Whitebeard's daughter on Shanks's crew
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A mildly naughty bit under the undercut. Also, I'm having to change how I indicate action, instead of using Asterix *, I'm going to change them to [ ].
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Marco: Pops, Shanks's ship is on the horizon, signaling they wanna talk-yoi.
Whitebeard: [rolls his eyes,] Fine let him aboard.
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As the Red Force is pulling itself parallel to the Moby Dick
Whitebeard: [spots you working on the rigging] (y/n)?!
You: dukes [knows you're going to be in trouble, so you try to duck into the galley to avoid him]
Whitebeard: Young Lady, I fucking saw you, don't try to hide from me! Come here.
You: [shuffles in front of him] Hi Pops
Izou: oi, oi, don't go getting familiar with him.
Whitebeard: [holds up his hand] No, it's okay, this one is my biological child.
Ace: You have a bio kid? Why didn't you tell us!?
Whitebeard: I was trying to keep her safe, [turns to you and gives you a pointed look,] which is why I left you on Sphinx, where it's safe.
You: It was boring, so I snuck aboard the supply ship, that you send us every month, and hopped out at the nearest port.
Whitebeard: That supply ship is captained by Doma!
Thatch: Shall I go draft a summons letter sent to him?
Whitebeard: yes, thank you. [Turns back to you,] You should have stayed on Sphinx. Yes, it's boring, but that's because it's peaceful. Do you have any idea how rare and valuable peace is? Why would you leave?
You: Because I wanted more! I wanted to see the world! I wanted to fight strong opponents! Because I'm your kid!
Marco: [mutters loud enough for Whitebeard to hear.] Personality is fifty percent genetic.
Whitebeard: [Ignores him.] I understand that... urge to see the world. But why him! [Jabs a finger in Shank's direction]
Shanks: What's wrong with me?
Benn: [pats his captain's head] We've been wondering that for years.
You: He makes me laugh.
Shanks: [puffs up his chest with pride and cheekily sticks his tongue out at Benn]
Whitebeard: Please tell me you aren't in love with this misfit.
You: Sorry, I can't help who I fell in love with, [shrugs.] He makes me happy, and he treats me well.
Yassop: [yells from the deck of the Red Force] That's an understatement! He spoils her rotten, and she gets first dibs on any treasure we get. And he buys her anything she wants.
Whitebeard: [rubs his chin thoughtfully] First dibs, huh?
You: I also send funds home, back to Sphinx.
Whitebeard: I suppose I'll allow it, then.
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That evening
The Crews: [have somehow started a boat party]
Shanks and Whitebeard: [chatting around a table ladened with food]
You: Daddy, will you pass the rum?
Shanks and Whitebeard: [reach for it, accidentally touch hands, and lock eyes]
the crews: ʱªʱªʱª(ᕑᗢूᓫ∗)
Shanks: (☼Д☼) !! *Books it for his ship*
Whitebeard: [hot on his heels] AKAGAMI!
Marco: wow
Benn: That was a mean thing to do, (y/n).
You: ଘ(✿˵•́ ω •̀˵) ? I didn't do anything, [lying].
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