#and sometimes it makes me so lonely i could CRY

[meocities]

The Lack Thereof

Mithrun/Reader - 1423 words, hurt/comfort

You're nervous. You're sad and lonely and hurting, and on top of it all, you're nervous.

Mithrun stares at you from across the bedroom. He's been doing that a lot lately — you've noticed how his eyes linger. You notice a lot more than you let on about him, but you’ve realized that he ends up knowing anyway. You can't keep anything secret from him — he'll find out that you're hiding something, at the very least, and then he'll just keep staring until you tell him.

He's doing that now. Staring. His eyes bore into your own, and when you look away for a second, glance back, look away again, he moves his staring to your hands. You're wringing your fingers in your own grasp. The edges of your cuticles are dry and picked. Your skin might have bled a few times from your nervousness, and though the blood was the only thing that could have given your anxiety away (blood that had long been cleaned), you know Mithrun sees the red-flushed divot of wounds even from the distance you're keeping.

Mithrun raises an eyebrow, and the anxiety compounds in your stomach. It burns your skin, just as much as the memories do, and you know you're strong but you think to yourself, god, I want to cry.

You're strong, and you're brave, and you've always stood up to everything that has ever been thrown at you, and you're so tired. You're so tired of the effort. You wonder if he can relate.

So you bow your head, and you know Mithrun's eyes have gone wide — as much as they can, anyway — staring at you still. He's silent, unmoving on the bed the Canaries had set him up with after the new kingdom's establishment. Of course it would be silent. Of course he would be staring. You’re the one who invaded his room in the middle of the night, after all. You know you're lucky that he doesn't care.

Yet, for now, you're still looking at the floor while the former captain of the Canaries looks at you, with your hands wringing themselves into shreds, and the hole in your stomach is eating you alive. You know he expects something of you, so you take a breath (it's shaky, and you cringe because you know your words aren't going to come out right) and deliver, ineloquently, “you don't care about most things, right?”

Mithrun's told you his story. How he became a dungeon lord — and how he lost that title in five years. How he's been recovering over time, slowly but surely, thanks to the help of Kabru and his Canaries, and the noodle shop that he lives above, and everyone who's had the smallest bit of faith in him along the way. And while Mithrun's made endless progress, you know he still has trouble desiring, sometimes.

You can't imagine asking this of anyone else.

Mithrun nods his head slowly, and you realize you've looked back up at him when his brows furrow together. “I don't,” he says.

“Can you do me a favor,” you say, expecting to stop there, but highly reluctant to even consider the thought of him rejecting you before you even get the real question out. “Can I join you?”

Mithrun looks down, gaze sweeping his bed, before turning back to you. It's a silent question, and you nod, cheeks aflame. Are your legs shaking? You feel unsteady. You aren't sure if you're breathing right — feels too shallow, as if you're afraid to even make a sound. Your hands, still fidgeting with your fingers, twist a joint in such a way that your knuckle cracks, and you wince at the sound interrupting the silence. Mithrun remains quiet, and you think that you might never have taken a deep breath in your life.

He breaks this silence a moment after. “Why are you asking this of me?”

There's lots of things you can say to this — lots of things that go through your head in response. It feels delicate to dissect, yet heavy. Emotion and cognition flit through your brain, and you think about analyzing yourself in your typical pattern of being self-aware, but it feels like too much. There's no good straw to grasp onto, but the one thing that comes to your mind is that, despite not knowing him for long, there's something about him that makes you feel as if he's the only person in the world you can go to.

I don't know wouldn't suffice as an answer. Moreover, you would feel bad about not communicating to the best of your ability. To him, you say, “I trust you,” and you don't think about how his distance is the most familiar thing you've known.

He doesn't seem convinced, but he shrugs and lifts his head to lay on the side of the pillow — moving to make room for you. Your heart thuds hard in your chest, and you're both terrified and not. You wipe your sweaty palms on the surface of your clothes, because you don't want to put that on Mithrun, not at all — there's no need for him to see that you're any more nervous than he already knows you are. While your hands are wiped off, you approach the bed, lifting your leg so you can slide over the top, knees bent as you sit by his waist. You're so close that your knees are touching the right side of his waist. The bed wasn't very big to begin with, and by the way Mithrun moves his arm out to make room for you to lay down, you know he's aware of the proximity.

Which, this action makes your chest ache. He wasn’t supposed to be caring — he wasn't supposed to make this easy. You're tempted to pull back for a moment before Mithrun raises his eyebrow at your hesitation, and you bite your tongue even as your eyes begin to moisten. You won't cry, you know this for sure — you refuse to be weak in front of someone as strong as him, and even though his eyes narrow at all the things you won't say, you give up part of the act and lay your head down on his chest, nosing your face into his neck. Your left hand comes to rest on his stomach so that you're curled into him, and you can already feel the moisture from your breath condensing on the skin of his neck. You won't cry, you remind yourself. You won't cry, and if some tears do drop on Mithrun's shoulder beneath your face then it was an accident. You didn't mean to.

Slowly, his arm comes around to cradle you into his side. Your breath hitches as his fingers trail down your spine to pull you closer, stroking along the bone of your back. You can feel yourself shaking, frozen in place — you don't want to move, but something like this is so unfamiliar. You never would have expected this from him, of all people — wasn't the point of seeking this out from him because he wouldn't be overwhelming? Wasn't the point of this to have an image of being loved?

Yet, with Mithrun’s fingers at the slope of your back, the image you had is colored and crisp. Even if he's pretending, it almost feels like he actually cares about you.

He can feel that you're shaking now — there's no doubt about it. Your breathing rattles through your chest as your fingers grip the fabric on his stomach, and you feel his abdominal muscles clench for a moment before he forces them to relax. He shifts his face above you and you feel lips on your forehead — he pressed a kiss to your skin, you realize, and your heart shatters into a million pieces. You're warm, you're burning up, and all you can do is sling your arm across his ribs, tuck a leg between his, and bury your face so far into Mithrun's neck that you don't know where you end and he begins anymore.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this — nothing this nice. You're still shaking, but you're held tightly. Why did he desire to hold you?

You vocalize this sentiment. “Why are you doing this?” You ask, and your voice is quiet. Devastated. Unsure.

Mithrun doesn't look at you. He doesn't even shift his position. Just hums a short noise in the hollow of his throat — something you feel the vibrations of tickling your nose — and says, “I trust you, too.”

#mithrun of the house of kerensil #mithrun x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #mithrun #meo writings

[spence-whore]

Movie Night

Spencer Agnew x Reader

Request: what request are you the most excited to write? also what would spencer be like during a movie night? I’m just curious

A/N a couple of things before we get to this imagine! One, I’m not sure if you wanted this as an imagine but I thought this would be cute as one, so I’m writing it. Secondly, I’ve been really excited to write all of these tbh. I feel like the ones I have been really excited about though are the ones being inspired by certain songs. I have gotten a few requests for song based ones and it’s just been exciting because it’s been music I love and even some I have never heard of before. So, it’s been a challenge trying to think of my own way to interpret it to Spencer and an imagine! Last thing, this is pretty short but i hope it’s still good.

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You and Spencer have known each other since you were in middle school. You were childhood best friends, which eventually turned into high school sweethearts. You moved with Spencer to California, which led to you getting a job with mythical and him working for Smosh. It was like the best of both worlds. The two of you don’t get a lot of time together compared to what you used to get. So, the two of you do movie nights every Wednesday night. You cook some type of food and get a bunch of snacks and sweets. You pile it all together on the living room table. While you’re doing this, Spencer makes a pillow fort on the couch and gets everything set up. Sometimes he will come into the kitchen to attempt to annoy you but he just gets roped into helping you fix something.

Tonight was movie night and the two of you decided on the classic, Napoleon Dynamite, for tonight.

“Spencahhhh” You shout in a fake Italian accent from the kitchen, “Can you come here for a second, my love?”

“If you’re just gonna pull me in here to make me help you make some sticky dessert again, I will actually cry.” Spencer says walking into the kitchen and laughing. “Listen, you remember what happened last time. I had to shower before we got to even start the movie.”

“Oh, whine about it why don’t you.” You say sarcastically, shooting Spencer a glare. “It wasn’t my fault anyways. I was literally just icing cupcakes and you thought it would be funny to smear icing on my face. So, I simply got you back. It was your fault. I just got lonely and didn’t want to be in here alone.”

“Y/N, I was literally like a few steps from you.” Spencer says laughing really loudly. “But hi, I’m sorry I left you all alone. I will stay in here. I’m finished up in there anyways.”

“I’m just putting these cookies on this sheet. Once the pizza is out, I’m going to stick them in there.” You explained, nodding your head towards the oven. “We can just start the movie and eat the pizza til the cookies are done then I’ll grab them.”

The two of you seriously like to go all out with unhealthy foods this night since you try to eat decently healthy every other day of the week. As you finished putting the last of the cookie dough on the sheet, the oven went off and Spencer stood up to grab it for you.

“Please remember to grab the oven mitt this time. We really don’t need a rerun of you burning the shit out of your hand then having to cancel movie night.” You quickly said with a smile on your face.

“Good lord, you’re never going to let that down, are you?” Spencer muttered while sliding on an oven mitt to grab the two small pizzas. “Are you sure you’re always up to doing all of this cooking and baking? I feel like today is really the only free day we get together. We could just always order food from somewheres and go pick up snacks and desserts from the store.” He rambles while walking over to the table to place the pizzas on it.

You shrug your shoulders, keeping your back to Spencer while you walk over to the oven and pop the cookies in. “I always just feel better knowing that everything is home made. I ate fast food so much as a young adult in college.” You turned around to face him. “I made a promise to myself that whenever I got out of college, no matter what, I would make the time to cook something to eat for myself; even if it is something small. Plus, I always like incorporating things you like or haven’t tried yet in the mix. I always like surprising you. You always praise it, so it gives me that drive to want to do it more.”

Spencer just stared at you with a love struck look on his face then walked up to you and yanked you into a hug. “I wasn’t complaining about it and I hope you know that. I mean god, I’m beyond thankful for a partner that loves to cook like this. If we’re being honest? I would probably live off of fast food all throughout the week if it wasn’t for you.” He whispered into your hair then kissed the top of your head.

You just laughed really loudly into his chest, “I’m going to be honest with you, that’s another one of the reasons I do it. Fast food makes anyone feel icky and weak. I like knowing that you can get a good meal and actually feel good throughout the day. I guess it’s like my love language.”

Spencer pulled back from the hug and placed his hands on both sides of your face for a minute just looking at you. “I love you so much and I hope you never forget that.” He gave you a quick peck then nodded towards the kitchen table. “I’ll grab the plates if you cut the pizzas?”

You nodded then grab his face really quickly before he could walk away to give him another kiss. “I love you too goofy ass.”

You walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a pizza cutter while Spencer grabbed two plates and walked over to place them on the table while you were cutting the pizzas.

“Oh wait,” You said just remembering. “You’re gonna love me even more. I went and bought more Mountain Dew Kickstarts because I realized you were almost out. I also bought two single ones, one of you and one for me, tonight.” You say with a soft smile on your face.

Spencer aggressively kissed you on the cheek then walked over to the fridge to grab the drinks. “You ready to watch the absolute masterpiece that is Napoleon Dynamite?”

“Spencer, this is like the seventh time we have watched this movie this year and it is May. You would think at this point, I would be tired of it. I’m so excited to watch it.”

Spencer chuckled at you and shook his head, “You’re a dork. I’m taking these drinks into the living room now. Do you need help carrying anything?” He asked turning to look at you.

“Nope, I got it all here bub. Just grab my phone because I set on a timer on it for the cookies.”

You carried the two plates into the living room and could’ve just cried walking in there. Spencer always goes all out with the pillow forts. It looked so big and so comfortable. He always had laid out so many different candies and popcorn in two huge bowls on the living room table. You placed the two plates of pizza on the table and realized he had also went and bought you new flowers to put in your vase, to replace the ones that were starting to wilt.

Spencer looks at you with the most serious look on his face then in Napoleon’s voice says, “Gosh, can we start the movie already?”

#spencer agnew x reader #smosh x reader #spencer agnew fluff #spencer agnew imagines

[mswritingthings]

Big Prompt List 2

"There are a lot of things that I didn't think were possible before you."

"Please don't overwork yourself, please."

"I'll take care of you until you learn to take care of yourself."

"What? I don't have a crush on (name)!"

"Take your time, it's okay."

"That is no excuse for the way they treated you."

"Crying isn't going to solve anything, I need to toughen up."

"Relationships aren't supposed to be problems that you need to solve."

"Every single time that I close my eyes, I see your face staring back at me."

"Always the romantic."

"Where are we going so late?"

"I'll always answer when you call."

"It's getting late, come on to bed. This will all be here in the morning."

"I've never wanted to be with someone like I want to be with you."

"You can't win them all."

"Slow down, we've got all night."

"I love the way that you make me feel. I've never been wanted like this before."

"Can I touch you?"

"Please."

"My mom used to tell me what it was like to fall in love. Even in my wildest dreams, I never thought it'd be this good."

"I should have known that you hadn't changed."

"Come on (name) would do anything to make you smile, absolutely anything."

"Sometimes, I wonder why I put up with you."

"Hey! You love me."

"Don't listen to them, you're beautiful."

"I just can't believe that you really chose me, that's all."

"Who has you smiling like that?"

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to mess things up for you, I swear."

"When is the last time you saw (name) smile like that?"

"I feel like myself when I'm around you."

"It gets lonely at night, maybe you should stay over."

"We were cuddling, that's all."

"Did you lock the door?"

"I swear it might not be what it looks like!"

"Are you kissing my (brother/sister)?"

"Oh the horrors! I have to bleach my eyes."

"Stop being dramatic."

"Can I have a kiss too please?"

"Who do you think you are treating this precious angel so badly?"

"I think I might die if you don't get over here and hug me."

"Don't be ridiculous, we are not in love."

"If I asked you to stay, would you?"

"It's only for a few months, and then we'll be right back here together again."

"I don't think I could bear to be without you for even a day."

"Shh, (name) just fell asleep."

"It has been so hard without you."

"Please come back. I'm sorry."

"What do you want from me? I swear I've given you everything."

"You don't love me, and that's okay because I can pretend that you do for now."

"Just let go, it's not worth the pain."

"It's fine, you can just sit on my lap."

"God, you two are disgustingly cute together."

"One day I want to have something like that."

"Babies? Like, more than one?"

"I'd love to get to know you properly if you'd let me."

"You'd think they put the stars in the sky from the way everybody constantly fawns over them."

"Drop it, okay? I'm done talking about this."

"They made you feel small, but you aren't. You matter so much to everybody, especially me."

"Holy shit, I'm in love."

"Come back to bed, it's cold."

"Stop squirming or I'll get the ropes out again."

"Open up for me like a good (boy/girl)."

"Tell me what you want, and I'll do it for you."

"It looks to me like you've got enough holes to go around."

"I know it looks like a lot, but I'll go slow."

"If you need to stop, let me know."

"Take it off. I want to see all of you."

"All of that teasing, just for you to cum so quickly? What a shame, I had much more planned for tonight."

"Shh, that's it, cum for me."

"I think you can take a little more than this, don't you?"

#prompt list #mine #please do use and reblog #dialogue prompts #assorted prompts

[machidielontheway]

i am chatty today because i've got ✨The Anxieties✨

i choose to stop two choirs this year cause i didn't have fun like before (a long while, actually) and i had said to friends "i will come back with you to this other choir, the one we met all in, like you already have since a year". and i really thought i would cause it would let me keep community, and a regular occasion to work on what we'd see with my singing teacher.

but in the last two months i felt so relieved and free to not have to go back to the choirs i stopped, i began feeling like going to this other one would be again 'stiffling', even tho it's at a very low level (beginner level, altho a good beginner level). and that it would become a chore again.

i went to the open session yesterday and seeing all my friends and having fun in the warm up was really, really nice. but the choir work in itself, while of good sound quality and with a good chef, was so sloooow to my own needs. and we can't talk for real when in session, or just quick when the voice working is changing, so it's texting or nothing.

and i felt that i would be soon unfulfilled / bored in it, of the pace, and also the songs are nice but not really my taste (it was once 100%, but now it's only 50% to what i heard was planned.)

cons : - lot of people, mask is somehow accepted. i don't want to go back to singing in mask because it's really hard and creates problems which i have already, in terms of Singing. but given how covid moves lately i also don't want to be in 60 people's company in one medium room without a mask. - "slow" pace, potentially boring "what am i doing here" thinking. i could definitively bring something to do, or just read or something, as lot of people do, but i don't want my choir experience to be "you come for 2 hours and, besides warming up, you sing 15 of them". i know a good numbers of good / high level singers are in this choir and don't mind cause the ambiance is really nice, the quality is here, and the community is good, but i don't think i would have liked it. - i already have three weeks a night taken (danse, tv night with friend<3, and instrument soon if i'm not averse to it after the trial class tonight). going to choir would make it four nights a week taken every weeks (unless i double one night which is possible but not ideal especially on the long term). and i want that time to try new things / try to go forward in my life ! - i don't want to double down on my "choir the last years has been more of a duty sometimes than anything else" and continue and risk disliking it even more. i feel like simply singing in the grass or in a church with friends brings me much more pleasure, simple giddy fulfilling and without anxieties. yeah i can't sing masterpieces i've been dreaming to sing since years, needing 40 persons, but those masterpieces are not going away. they will still be sung in years and years (indodana and baba yetu my beloved)(that, funnily enough, are going to be sung this year in one of the choir i left lol. didn't change my decision) - having "one night more" gives me a little more time to try to be more active in reaching out to friends and proposing drinks or outings or so (....maybe. that's the plan. "if you wish you had a friend like that, be that friend" post)

pros : - singing and spending a little time every week with my friends, who as adult is hard to do in other circomstances ! - not feeling like my friends are having fun and sharing time together and i'm all alone not being there :( - working on what i'm working on with my singing teacher... maybe (loosing your long-time used crutches / wrong things you did because you didn't know better is very hard in context of choir where you body has sooo many automatisms)

So cons are winning a lot. but i'm so scared i'm making the wrong choice !! especially imagining them all having fun and feeling like i'm the one not there, shunned of my own desire. it uh. it hit a little bit deep in the never healed wound in my heart.

#3615 my life #posts that makes me fidgety cause if someone irl read that they would know who i am #and i could not say 'it's another person in the same situation !' #anyway. inscription are today and places are limited #so if Instrument i really dislike tonight i will try to sign up for choir anyway even though i may not get a place #as i'm sure every other new singer want to be in #but i don't want instrument to not be cool !! i have thought of doing it for the last two years so i'm excited to try it #recipe against anxiety is doing things so i will go do things now #and cry a bit #because losing the community of choir -even if i wasn't really using it tbh... sometimes it was more awkward than anything actually #but it's still scary because i'm very scared of feeling alone cause i'm actually lonely. so. #but it's time for change. and if i see i don't like it then i will know ! pain is only information your brain gives you !!! #god i need to find a therapist.

[2001fairyprincess]

everyone around me falling in love and im so happy for them but it just digs in the very possible reality of me dying alone. i just don't think i'm meant to be loved or wanted romantically in this lifetime. being disabled and a lesbian is so lonely.

#i spend most of my time in pain in bed #idk how i could ever meet someone #or who would ever want me #esp since having to use a wheelchair #the lesbian dating pool in my area is incredibly small already #but it got even smaller since my disabilities worsened #i love friends gushing to me it makes me so happy #just once i wish i could relate tho and have someone want me or fancy me or kiss me #i just dont think it'll happen for me #and it hurts #i get i dont need someone but i am human and want someone #my throat and chest hurts from crying as i type this #being disabled and a lesbian is lonely #i wish sometimes i wasnt me #doubt anyone read this but im sorry if you did #anyways gonna listen to falling behind by laufey and cry some more #kitty blogs

[depresseddepot]

his name is bodie

#in other related news: i took him to the vet and saw a cat years to human years sign and it said that a 6yo cat was abt 40 human years #and toby. my special guy. is 6 years old #ive been in a downward spiral ever since lol so im not trusting myself to make decisions abt whether or not we're keeping bodie #i don't think i have the time or headspace to spend as long as i did with toby on him but its a baby and im doing it a disservice if i dont #hes so lonely and sad and tiny but i am Comorbid and hate change so so so much #this poor baby #its past my bedtime so im sure ill feel 100% different in the morning #but im just. toby is getting older :( #i don't know what to do after he eventually passes away one day. like frankly i dont think ill be doing anything else for very long #ive loved pets before but. not as much as i love him :( #he could be starving and would run past food if i sat down to pet him #he sits and waits for me to get out of the shower upstairs (a place he's afraid of) #he knows what times i get home and wakes himself up from naps to wander upstairs to see me #he gets lost sometimes and meows until i talk to him so he knows how to get back to someplace safe #he's a HUGE cat but he's so gentle and sweet. he was even nice to the baby #not to be dramatic but i don't think I'll recover once he passed away. like i think that's it for me. #honest to god need to have my affairs in order come my mid thirties because. well. #he even comes over to lay w me when I'm crying :( #sorry abt all these tags #vent

[radioactive-cloud]

i'm tipsy and sad and i just want to matter and not to feel like this

#sometimes my brain tries to put blame on others for making me feel like this #but it's my fault and mine only #i'm the only one responsible for thinking and feeling like this and i'm the only one who can make it stop but who doesn't do anything #it's so much more easier to whine and whine and whine and complain and cry when no one sees #and try to make excuses for not doing stuff because oh that's just because of how i feel #and i mourn all the things i lose because of this #wake up you stupid pathetic loser you're the only one who is to blame #and you should stop making fucking excuses and pitying yourself and do something about it #i'm the one who made myself lonely and boring and instead of making it better i just wallow in self-pity and feel miserable #i just want this to stop #but once again i'm too lazy to do something about it #i just want it to stop #will i even just shut the fuck up about all of this and just work on myself instead of rambling stupid shit on the internet #i don't want to write these stupid fucking posts but i guess i feel the need to get it out of me at least somehow #and instead of using a notes app like normal people do i chose this because i can pretend that this somehow matters #well newsflash loser it doesn't so learn to shut up #i wish i could #i can feel a headache brewing #falling asleep will be fun tonight #jesus i rambled too much #not that anyone will read this tho so it's probably fine #or not idk #personal

[myname-isnia]

It's that "spend hours sobbing my eyes out in bed for several reasons, including but not limited to the fact tomorrow is Monday, the fact my social battery has been completely drained and won't recover anytime soon, the fact my landlady is due to show up tomorrow evening and will likely piss me off again, the fact I've had the urge to write since Friday and ended up not writing even a single fucking word, the fact exam pressure keeps rising and I still don't know what to do with my life after I'm done with school, and the fact I'm both completely overwhelmed and so terribly lonely at the same time" kind of Sunday evenings

#I'm so fucking exhausted. both mentally and emotionally #I spent the night at my grandma's and then my friend came over and spent the night the following day #and I don't count it as a day off unless I don't go anywhere or see anyone #so you could say I didn't really have a weekend #idk how I'll go to school tomorrow. I think even one person talking to me would make me fucking explode #and yet. despite all that. I feel completely alone #because no one I know irl can provide me with the comfort I so desperately need #spending time with people is all a big distraction from my depressive thoughts #and the second everyone leaves.. I feel more alone than ever. so completely and utterly lonely #I try to fill the void with my imagination. lose myself in my oc verse. and it helps sometimes #but when I'm not feeling particularly inspired or can't some up with anything good... I just end up feeling worse than I did before #everything I do is to distract myself from my mind because the second I'm left alone with my thoughts.. #they go to a very dark place very quickly #like now. when my wrists itch and I can't stop crying and know full well that I'll go to bed in a few hours wishing to never wake up #and I'm left with nothing but a gaping hole in my chest. aching for arms to fall into and a shoulder to cry on #despite knowing it's not something I'll ever have #so I grit my teeth and bear it and hold on. for whatever reason #I don't know why I haven't give up yet. it's all arbitrary reasons like 'my friends would be sad if I was gone' #even in matters like these all I end up worrying about is what other people would think. not my own feelings #well. nobody has anything to worry about concerning me anyway. I'm too much of a coward to do anything #if I wasn't I wouldn't have lived to see my 14th birthday #and yet 4 years later I'm still here. wishing for an instantaneous way out that didn't involve me raising a hand against myself #because I really don't know how long I'll be able to take all this for. I don't have much left in me #I'm holding on by a thread. one too close to snapping. I'm scared of how few reasons I can come up with to keep going #I don't see a future ahead of myself. no college or uni or job or relationship or anything that might be worth staying around for #any attempts to imagine what life would be like after graduation are just.. dark and bleak and empty #I haven't got a single clue what I'm going to end up doing. maybe that's why I see so little worth in trying to figure it out #nothing in this world will make me truly happy. I don't have a future #and if I don't have a future... I don't have any reasons to stick around any further #if only I wasn't so much of a coward

[skyeateyourdonuts]

dangerrrrrr

#yknow the taemin song #anyways sometimes lonely people are lonely bc they chose it #im lonely?? and its my own damn fault lmao #i have things to clean but i am rapidly losing the drive to do any of it #its my spring break!!! i wont have time to do all this again!!! #but also im so kinda #used? to socially every day and its One Week it shouldnt hit me hard i even have plans #but rn im just so. damn bored and lonely #bleh its my own fault i literally said no to seeing others lmao #i think. im deprived in the emotional support sense #its kinda reached an awkward point where theres no one i feel comfortable #like leaning on??? for any kind of support?? #so when i wanna confide im basically shit outta luck #yeah blah blah im closer to my parents than anyone else but i cant lean on them that much lmao #i just wish i had a friend i could like lean on and watch a sad movie #or sit still next to you and share snacks and secrets #but hey yknow this is what it means to rebuild ur life #also i spend a Lot. a Lot of time grieving lately?? i think about alex so much #so therefore i cry a lot but hey i hadnt rlly been dealing w it before so whatevs #also i miss my friends but hey! spring break! maybe ill make plans or smth #i just wish hug lmao and a lil tearshed on someones shoulder #thatd be nice #yknow. i dont even have to confide just a hug hhhh

[astonmartinii]

into the arms of another part three | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x reader

part one part two masterlist tips

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 707,890 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: working up a storm and flirting up a frenzy

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user3: SHE'S BACK

user4: that month she was gone was dragging

user5: i almost forget she has a job lol there's always so much drama i forgot girly was getting the bag

danielricciardo: oh what a lovely picture of you two being gross at dinner i wonder who took it

yourusername: it's this lovely gentleman, i'll have to introduce you. he's quite loud, very charming and should consider going into theatre with his vocal projection

danielricciardo: you think i'm ready for the stage?

maxverstappen1: i think we all think you're ready for the stage

user6: wait so do you think daniel, heidi, y/n and max go on double dates? that's so cute

user7: sometimes i hurt myself by thinking it could've been a triple date if charles wasn't such as ass

maxverstappen1: when she's a triple threat 😍

yourusername: but i can't sing, dance or act?

maxverstappen1: but you are smart, beautiful and can put up with me :)

yourusername: you act like being with you is a chore maxy :( i'd spend all my waking moments with you if i could

landonorris: i'm sending these ^^ comments to my therapist, you guys make me feel so lonely

maxverstappen1: sorry dude

yourusername: lando !! let us play matchmaker ??

landonorris: i'll let you play matchmaker just don't let max have too much input

maxverstappen1: why not i clearly have good taste?

user8: anyone else wondering whether y/n and charles actually spoke after he was seen outside her building?

user9: i was thinking about that too ... i'm guessing they either didn't or it didn't go well by the fact that he's no where to be seen here

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,203,500 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: new weekend, new helmet. this one was designed by the love of my life who put her architecture degree to good use to make me this beautiful lid. love you y/n hope to bring you a trophy back in return 🧡

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user13: max being the resident grid sweetheart was not on my 2023 bingo card

yourusername: no worries max, it was an absolute honour to design a helmet for you.

maxverstappen1: it's an honour to wear something designed by you

yourusername: call me the adrian newey of helmet design

maxverstappen1: that's a big shout, that i'm inclined to believe

redbullracing: adrian gives his stamp of approval y/n !

user14: i swear in an older charles vlog y/n spoke about how she always wanted to design a helmet for him :( i'm glad she finally got to do it

user15: no shade but at least this helmet might actually win the race lol

danielricciardo: cute lid, is y/n open for commission?

maxverstappen1: nope she's mine and mine only (unless you're paying)

yourusername: what he said

user16: i just know charles is screaming, crying and throwing up rn

user17: probably not, people stop being friends all the time, he's got more than one friend and is a millionaire, he's living his best life

user16: his track record says otherwise, he's extremely petty, he probably can't handle that max and y/n don't care about him anymore

user18: tbf from what we saw charles was looking to reconcile, it's more y/n who has been unreasonable

user19: i think she's well within her rights to refuse forgiveness and from reports charles never apologised, this has been a pattern of behaviour for years now. she deserved better, she's now got better

liked by maxverstappen1

user20: i love that max likes all the shady comments about the situation cause i know y/n would never

charles_leclerc

liked by arthurleclerc, carlossainz55 and 908,344 others

charles_leclerc: always make time for your real friends.

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user21: if there's one thing men will have, it's the audacity

user22: well this is an interesting response

user23: are we meant to clap?

arthurleclerc: what happened to the plan?

charles_leclerc: than plan failed in the minute she closed the door in my face

arthurleclerc: call me, but also stop making excuses

user24: yes it is logical to do this offline arthur, but consider this, i want to read the drama

user25: but at this point how is it drama? it's just charles being stubborn. y/n gave him a full explanation and by the look of it he didn't do a very good job with it

user26: the thing is i honestly believe that however bad the apology would be y/n would still forgive him. they've been friends for so long i think she honestly wants it to work out but shit like this does not help his case

carlossainz55: mate i am so confused

charles_leclerc: what's so confusing? she can say that this has led to her finding "the real thing" but i can't?

carlossainz55: but if you wanted to reconcile, you look like an asshole

charles_leclerc: fine, make me the bad guy like everyone else

user27: charles is really in his whiny boy era lord

user28: all i know is that y/n and max are probably at home having the laugh of their lives

f1wagsupdates

liked by 3,095 others

tagged: yourusername

f1wagupdates: y/n y/ln was in the red bull garage this weekend with verstappen's family. max won this race wearing the helmet she designed for him.

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user31: they are the cutest couple on the grid, perhaps of all time

user32: they're defo on the way to that, if they get married could defo grab best couple of all time

user33: the way she still stopped at ferrari to talk to arthur and wish him and charles luck ... clearly there's a bigger person here

user34: y/n is already so close to the verstappens, her and sophie and victoria were together all weekend.

user35: my friend had a paddock pass and overheard sophie asking y/n when she'll be giving her more grandkids

user36: OMG WHAT? what did y/n say?

user35: that she'd have to be mrs. verstappen first

user37: do not play with me right now if we get the charles and y/n friend breakup and y/n and max engagement all in one season my brain may explode

user38: if max weren't winning every race anyway i'd defo say that this is the lucky helmet

user39: i mean grand slams aren't that common, so maybe it is

user40: max win and charles disasterclass, the best weekend possible for y/n

user41: i don't think she actually wants charles to do badly though, she wouldn't have wished him luck..

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,405,649 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: i've won a lot of races this year but my biggest win of all was your heart. here's to forever together ❤️

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user42: i think i just saw charles drop to his knees in monaco

user43: i mean they can still be friends? there was never any romantic feelings he's just being weird about being in the wrong and it being max

danielricciardo: i'm so so happy for you guys, you deserve this so much. all the happiness to you, i shall assume my position as best man effective immediately

maxverstappen1: bit forward to assume that you're best man mate

danielricciardo: wait, i'm not best man ?

maxverstappen1: i joke, you are, of course, the best man and i can't think of a better man for the job

yourusername: just don't go too crazy with the stag night, i've heard about your nights out back in the day (seen the videos too)

danielricciardo: i don't know what you're talking about, we'll have a boys night in, a round of uno and he'll be ready at the altar right on time

user44: why am i actually so happy for people i don't even know

yourusername: i can't think of a better way to spend the rest of my life, red bull drive babysitter and cat mama

maxverstappen1: i think jimmy and sassy might just be as excited as me (maybe)

yourusername: i know i can tell by all the holes in my shoes

maxverstappen1: we all have our ways of showing love, some bites holes in shoes, some like to follow you everywhere

landonorris: the way max could be either one

maxverstappen1: ummm i'm trying to be romantic stop accusing me of biting my fiancee's shoes

yourusername: don't worry maxy, i'd still marry you even if you bite my shoes

user45: this is an amazing thing and not to bring the mood down, but do we think y/n will invite charles to the wedding?

user46: max could as well, they are friends, even if charles is trying to use their rivalry as a 'reason' to be angry at this relationship

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,206,782 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i am lost for words. i never knew i could love someone as much as i love you, and it is my biggest honour to spend the rest of my life with you.

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user47: she has really won at life i'm so happy for her

user48: who knew being ditched in corsica would be so good for a girl

liked by yourusername

maxverstappen1: i love you more than you could ever know, couldn't think of a better mrs. verstappen-y/ln

yourusername: i can't wait to have matching last names

user49: wait is max also going to take y/n's name?

maxverstappen1: yep and couldn't be prouder to have her name

yourusername: awww maxy i love you

user50: so... did charles get an invite?

charles_leclerc: no. so much for moving forward.

yourusername: i won't let you ruin this announcement for me. let the postal service do their job. please get your shit together before you rsvp or fuck off, i have no problem burning that invite.

user51: oof.

landonorris: congrats guys, do me and daniel get a prize for listening to the years of pining that led to this

yourusername: you can get a gold star?

landonorris: make it solid gold and done.

yourusername: girl.

maxverstappen1: if red bull ask whether we drank on this getaway say no

yourusername: we defo didn't spray champagne like we were on a podium and then eat our weight in pasta

maxverstappen1: i had to celebrate my girl :)

note: hiiiii, i know this was highly, highly requested and i hope this has met expectations. i've had real bad writers block and some shit going on in my personal life, so i'm not the happiest with this but could see another part if i get enough ideas lol. thanks for reading <3

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen

[doctor-wombat]

.

#I think… I think I’m broken in a really stupid way #why am I so overwhelmed? nothing is even going on #I’m dealing with less than everyone I know and yet I’m just barely making it through the days #and I just want to scream and cry and stop existing #I’m so pathetic #I wish I could lean on someone but rightfully everyone is sick of me #It’s just… it’s lonely #trying to do it all myself #and sometimes I can talk to someone #but I’m always pulling myself back and clamming up before I can really feel any relief from it #because I’m pathetic and no one needs to hear my stupid problems

[inkskinned]

there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.

it is harder.

it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.

it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?

it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister

on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving

it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.

i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.

it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.

#wish this was better written!!! but im sleepy!! #writeblr #pride #lgbt #but for real please help me make these lesbian wings. gonna get the supplies tomorrow . i have #no sewing machine but know how to hand sew #have never done a good job with tie dye so idk why im just runnin with it #ps im specifically going to boston pride next weekend come hang out with me

[katiexpunk]

Desert Dust | Joel Miller's POV

Summary: The last place Joel Miller expected to find himself at this point in his life was in a small highway town in Arizona, passing the days by. He never really though he needed more -- until he met you.

Warnings: This is Joel's POV from Desert Dust. Yeah, if you thought he was a consent king in the original, this just further proves it. Tommy comes with his own cheeky warning. No age gap mentioned (make it your own), but Joel mentions feeling old. Joel Miller has a bad back (it's canon). Self-deprecation. Attempted assault (not by Joel)/nothing too graphic (please be responsible about what you consume). Joel beats up a bad guy., and like actually kinda wants to kill him for trying to hurt you. References to blood and first aid. Alcohol. Pet names. Flirting/slow burn. Inexperienced reader. Body hair. References to taste of vagina. Smoking/cigarettes (it's bad, don't do it). Oral (f receiving). Praise kink. Rough sex. Sex on a desk. Just a really passionate, filthy fuck. Creampie (shocker, I know). No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. TLOU au. Reader has no physical descriptions apart from female anatomy.

W/C: ~8K

A/N: Thank you for all of the love on Desert Dust. Nobody asked for this, but I couldn't get Joel's POV outta my head, so I hope you enjoy a little deep dive into what Joel was thinking when he first walked into that restaurant. Your honor, they're in love. Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

Did you ever see a robin weep When leaves begin to die? Like me, he's lost the will to live I'm so lonesome I could cry

The timbre of Hank Williams’ voice fills the truck's cab as Joel drives. It’s early, the sky is just beginning to transition from a deep midnight blue to a gradient of warm orange as the sun gradually emerges. While Joel likes to think of himself as a morning person, his back has other opinions on the matter. It’s to be expected, though, that’s what nearly 30 years of hard labor will do to a man.

The warmth of the thermos in between his thighs contrasts with the chilly morning air pouring in through the cracked window. Smoke dances lazily around his broad frame, a burning cigarette clenched between his calloused fingers. He greedily draws long drags, knowing it’ll be hours before he can have another one. He should quit, he knows he should quit. The half-used pack of Nicorette gum that sits in his cupholder in front of him is proof of that. 

But like picking at a scab or peeling the skin of a sunburn, sometimes we all do things we know we shouldn’t, things that make us feel good, if only for just a minute or two. 

In truth, there isn’t a lot that makes him feel good anymore. Jesus, when did he turn into such a grumpy old man? Probably sometime between Sarah going to college, and Tommy convincing him to take this contract job in the middle of fuck all nowhere.

The silence of a falling star Lights up a purple sky And as I wonder where you are I'm so lone–

Williams’ voice falls silent as Joel turns off the truck, having pulled into the work site. He snubs out the cigarette into the ashtray in the middle of the dash and grabs his jacket, a clipboard, and safety helmet. 

“Another day, another dollar,” he mutters to himself, pulling the handle on the driver's side door. The ground crunches below him, his boots are so dusty he doesn’t think he’ll ever get them clean again. God damn desert dust. He shakes his head and walks to the white trailer in front of him, unsure of why he’s so frustrated in the first place.

“Well aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine this morning,” Tommy says, responding to the quick snap of the door after Joel enters their makeshift office. 

“Don’t,” Joel bites back.

“What’s got your panties in a twist this morning, princess?” Tommy chides, sitting behind a wooden desk covered in blueprints and safety checklists. 

“This really the way you want to start the day, Tommy?” Joel says, voice low and even, masking his emotions. “Just, get to work.” 

He rounds around to the desk opposite Tommy’s and places everything down. The ripped chair lets out a little puff of air under his weight as he sits. 

Tommy, of course, knows what’s eating at Joel. He needs to get fucking laid. 

Tommy can’t even remember the last time he saw Joel with a woman it’s been so long. He was always so focused on Sarah, or growing the company, that he always put himself last. He’s tried to set Joel up on dates, but he always declines, citing he’s too busy or maybe next month. 

And while Tommy doesn’t say anything, it’s as if Joel can practically hear his thoughts. 

“Would you stop thinking so damn loud,” Joel mutters, and Tommy gives him a knowing smirk. “‘M fine. Worry about how we’re gonna finish this project and less about me,” Joel tells him. They both return their attention to their work.

As Joel works to finish up his administrative tasks before the rest of the crew arrives, he tries to shove down the annoyance he feels that maybe Tommy might be right. Maybe it has been too long, besides, rutting his cock into his fist in the shower every night is starting to get old. 

He’s not intentionally trying to avoid meeting someone, it’s just that nobody’s ever really caught his attention, not in any genuine way. He knows he’s attractive, but it might as well be poison to him for the types of women he attracts – it’s all fake tits, tight jeans, and money-hungry cougars just looking for someone to show them a good time. 

Just as he starts to think all of the good girls might be gone – he meets you.

++++ 

God, either this booth is uncomfortable or his back is getting worse. He tries to relieve some of the pressure by hunching over for a second. Nope, that’s worse. He sits up to full height and that’s a little better, for now, at least. He looks at the menu in front of him. He thinks about ordering a burger, but with how busy it is, he’s not confident it would come out in time before his lunch break ends. Besides, he told Tommy he would be back in less than 30. 

He didn’t intend to stop, he was just looking for an excuse to clear his head. But when he went to grab his coffee, he realized he had left it on his desk. He’d taken the highway exit to get to the restaurant by chance, hoping he might find a Starbucks or something quick. But nope, as it usually goes in small towns, the only coffee place nearby is where he currently sits. 

He notices you coming up to the table out of the corner of his eye and turns his head to look at you. 

Shit – you’re beautiful. He thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He watches as your thighs come flesh with the edge of the table, a coffee pot in your hand. 

"Hi," you say, he notices your voice is soft. "Can I get you something to drink?"

He’s so fucked. You even sound pretty. 

Your eyes find him, and he swears he feels something shift, electricity courses through him. You’re the first person to look at him, actually look at him, in years. He tries to keep his face level, not wanting to give away any of what he’s thinking. 

His eyes drift down to your chest until he notices the nametag pinned to your shirt. Cute name. It matches your pretty face. He internally chuckles to himself when he notices the coffee stains and what he thinks might be ketchup on your shirt. It makes him smile, mostly because he’s no stranger to wearing food himself, although you’re a waitress, it makes more sense to him that you’d be a little messy, a little dirty. He doesn’t quite have the same excuse. 

Distracted, it dawns on him that he’s probably staring. Stop being weird, she doesn’t need some old man gawking at her while she’s just trying to do her job, you fucking creep. 

He moves his eyes to the coffee pot in your hand. Right. The whole reason he’s here in the first place. 

 "Just coffee, darlin'," he says, watching as you pour some into the mug that was already waiting on the table. 

“You let me know if I can get you anything else,” you whisper.

He thinks he might pass out when he sees your smile. So, so fucked. 

“Just coffee for me today, sweetheart, thank you.” 

He internally grimaces when he realizes he’d let sweetheart slip, hoping it didn’t weird you out. You can take the man out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the man. He tries not to stare as he watches you walk away, but he can’t help himself. 

Sitting in silence, he nurses his coffee and tries to ignore the annoying glances that he seems to be getting from, well, everyone. He feels like he might as well have a giant arrow above his head screaming I’m horny for the waitress. He knows he’s looking at you more than he should, but like a moth to a flame, he just can’t seem to look away. He wonders how long you’ve worked here, and what your story might be. He wonders if you’re happy. Why the hell would he be wondering that? He just met you, for fucks sake. 

He’s just another customer. 

The establishment itself is pretty much what’d you expect for a small-town dive, the smell of grease and hamburgers wafting through the air. The portions are huge, and the coffee is good. There’s just one annoying thing about it, and he quickly learns her name is Tracy. 

He only knows this because she’s quick to offer it up, calling him baby and sugar, pestering him like a fly. She’s attentive in a way that’s forced, suffocating in every possible way. He can tell she’s the type of woman who craves the attention of any man who’s willing to give her the time of day, the type of woman that lets her boobs do all the talking. He’s lonely, yes, but he’s not desperate. He wants nothing more than for you to refill his coffee, just so he can hear your voice again, but she makes it near impossible. 

More than three cups of deep, but still bone tired, he feels his phone vibrate in his jeans and he knows it’ll be Tommy asking where he’s at. He pulls it out and sure enough. He looks around the restaurant, hoping maybe he might be able to cash out with you, but you’re nowhere to be seen. 

He opens his worn leather wallet, the same one he’s had since Sarah gifted it to him all those years ago, only to find a handful of $20s. He drops one on the table and decides it’s not worth it to ask Tracy for change; he could go the rest of his life never talking to her again and be fine with it. 

He silently slips out of the restaurant, and his curiosity about you nearly drowns him on the drive back. 

But this time when he walks into the trailer, he can’t help the cheesy grin that involuntarily appears on his face. 

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Tommy teases, his words slightly muffled from the bite of PB&J in his mouth, the sticky tack of peanut butter glued to the roof of it. 

“Shut up,” he says, but there’s no bite behind it. 

++++

The days turn into weeks, and he tries to step away from work, he does. Every day he tries to find an excuse to go in and see you, a reasonable time to step away for an hour or so. But it’s hard, project demands are at an all-time high, and the client is up his butt, freaking out they won’t be done in time. He works overtime, arriving earlier than usual and leaving close to midnight nearly every night. 

Joel Miller is a lot of things, but above all, he’s a man of his word. He and his brother didn’t build this company by being late or half-assing work. We’ll get it done, he reassures the client. And they will, he’ll make sure of it. 

“Joel, get up man,” Tommy says, shaking his shoulder. He jolts awake, his vision a little fuzzy, slightly disoriented. 

He must have drifted off during his lunch break and passed out cold on his keyboard. When he finally comes to, he automatically feels a twinge in his lower back. He’ll pay for that little nap later, he can already tell. 

“You’ve been working too hard, why don’t you call it a day, go home, and get some sleep? I’ve got it here for the rest of today,” Tommy offers. As much as they fight, there is a mutual understanding there – respect, even love, although they’ll both never admit to that outright. 

He starts to protest, but the pain in his back tells him that maybe he’s right. Lord knows he could benefit from a hot shower and a good night's rest, but even those things, things that should be relaxing, don’t offer him any respite. When he’s not thinking about work, he’s thinking about you. Your kind, soft eyes, and warm smile have sunk their teeth into his mind, and no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t seem to shake you. 

A rather frustrating fact, considering you’ve probably forgotten all about him. Just another customer, he’s just another customer. 

On the drive back home, he realizes he’s not far off from the exit to the restaurant. You’re probably not even working, and he knows he might be risking seeing Tracy again, but fuck it.  Before he has time to talk himself out of the decision, he’s pulling into the parking lot. 

He’s surprised at how quiet the restaurant is, a lot different from his first visit. He looks at his watch, it’s close to 3 o’clock, and from the state of the place, he can tell the lunch rush likely just finished. He tries to not be obvious about the fact that he’s scanning the place, looking for something, someone. You. 

He sees you before you see him. You look – focused. He can tell you’re a little worn out, but fuck if you aren’t still adorable. He flexes his hand open and closed a few times, trying to calm nerves he didn’t even know he had anymore. 

He grins a little as you tell him to take a seat wherever you want, as he watches intently as you throw the final pieces of flatware into the bin. He’s kind of impressed with how quickly you cleaned up the mess, how easily you hoist the heavy bus bin onto your hip. 

When you finally notice him, he lifts his hand in a silent hello. 

You look cute when you’re surprised. He can tell he’s caught you off guard. Like you weren’t expecting him. He notices as you scan his body, taking him in. He wonders if you feel this too, whatever the fuck this is. 

“Oh, hi. Um, go ahead and take a seat, I’ll be with you in just a second, just gonna drop this in the back,” you say. The smile and obvious excitement that washes over your face tells him everything he needs to know. 

He’s a customer. But what if he was more than that? 

Jesus. 

No. 

He’s just a customer. 

He decides that the booth by the window looks decent enough. The booth and his back fight once more, but he eventually gets comfortable. When you greet him again, your smile and soft voice melt into him, making him forget all the stress of the past few weeks. It takes him a second before it dawns on him that he hasn’t responded to you, that he hasn’t said anything. Talk to her, say something…say anything. 

“I was, uh hoping you’d be here,” he says, realizing how cringe he probably sounds. Has he always been this bad at flirting?

But before he can recover, Tracy swoops in like a hawk, eager to monopolize his attention. He watches as you sink back into the depths of the restaurant, leaving him with her. No, come back. 

She's quick to bring him a menu, some coffee, and offer him a selection of homemade pies, her enthusiasm bordering on overwhelming. He’s being rather curt with her, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s not interested, but the more he seems to ignore her, the stronger she comes on. He’s a thin thread away from telling her to just fuck off, but he doesn’t want to be rude. Besides, he knows you’re busy. He might not get to talk to you this time, but he will – or at least he hopes he will – especially if everything goes according to his plan. 

He’s not even sure if what he intends to do can be classified as a plan. Hell, he’s just glad that he even has a spare business card in his wallet. 

He scans the dining room for you, and once he spots you, he rises from the booth and intentionally catches your eye. With the worn card in hand, folded between the folds of some cash, he hopes that you understand his message when he nods and tucks it under the coffee cup. Please call. He’s not sure he’s ever been more hopeful for anything, ever. 

He swings by the grocery store on his way home, picking up some beer and a frozen pizza, too tired to cook anything real for dinner. He sinks into the cushions of his couch and tries to drown out his hopefulness with the distraction of T.V. But, he’d be lying if he said his heart rate doesn’t quicken with every notification that comes through his phone. 

But you don’t call or text. 

He thinks that maybe you’re just trying to play it cool, not wanting to come across as too eager. 

But as the days go on, still not a peep from you, he tries to shove down the darker thoughts that cross his mind. Maybe he had misinterpreted the signals you were giving him, misread the energy that feels palpable when you’re next to each other. Maybe he’s just out of practice. Not your type. 

You don’t want him. Why would you? He’s just some contractor, an old washup. Probably one of dozens of men who spend their nights waiting, wishful and hungry for even just a glance from you. One of the dozens of men who spew hot loads of come onto their bellies alone at night brought to a tipping point thinking about how sweet you might sound chanting their name, how tight your pussy would feel gripped around their cock. 

Fuck. 

++++

Some weeks later, he’s pulling another late night at the job site. And when the fluorescent lights get to be too much, he decides to call it a night. He can’t quite put a finger on it, but there’s a gnawing in the pit of his stomach, a silent feeling like he should swing by the restaurant – maybe even apologize for coming on too strong or weirding you out. Before he can even rationalize what he’s doing, he’s once again pulling into the parking lot. Except – 

Somethings wrong. 

There’s only one car in the parking lot, and the neon open sign remains lit, but something feels…off. 

He can feel it, like some sort of primal instinct laying dormant in his body has woken up.

It all happens so fast, faster than his mind can register. When he sees you, struggling in the hands of some fucker, he intervenes. He moves fast, doesn’t think twice, just lets his body take over. He pulls the man off of you, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his blood red hot, and his jaw tense. 

“I’d think twice if I were you before you try and win this one,” he says, voice low and threatening. Don’t make me go to jail tonight. 

He’s not surprised he hits the guy as hard as he does. He barely feels it, the bone-crunching under his fist. He’d probably kill the guy if you weren’t right there, watching his every move. It’s not a fair fight, not really. Joel knows he’s bigger and stronger, and has the unfair advantage of being sober. He can tell he probably broke the guy's nose, and that’s probably punishment enough. He drags the man out of the establishment and tells him to get the fuck out and never come back. He hopes the warning is enough, the message clear that if he tries to touch you again, ever, it’ll end worse. He’ll make sure of that. 

He locks the door and turns to face you. You look so – scared. So innocent, shaken, like a baby deer who just saw its mother get hit by a truck. He even thinks for a second that you might be afraid of him, a thought that makes his heart sink. I would never hurt you. He brings both of his hands to the sides of your arms – keeping the touch intentionally light, with a gentle, reassuring grip. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe now. 

“You alright?” he asks, watching with concern as you try and put on a brave face. God, he hates to see you cry, hates that anything could ever make you cry. He can tell you’re trying to avoid looking at him, not wanting him to see your vulnerability.

It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you.  

He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and uses the edge of his thumb to tilt you up to look at him. God, you’re perfect. 

The hand that meets his is soft until a sharp sting comes to his attention. He watches as you grab his hand and bring it down to your eye level, noticing the blood on it, a giant split down the middle of one of his knuckles. Fuck that guy. He wishes he would have given him just a little more, maybe a black eye or two. 

"You're hurt," you say, the tears in your eyes now replaced with genuine concern. 

He can tell you’re worried about him, a fact that makes him feel a little fuzzy inside. 

"It's okay, don't worry about it, doesn't hurt," he tries to reassure you. And he is. He’s suffered worse, nothing that won’t be better in a day or two, even if it does sting like hell right now.

"We've got a first aid kit in the back. Let me clean you up," you insist, nodding towards the rear of the room.

He doesn’t want you to have to put up with that right now, especially after everything that just happened. 

"It’s alright sweetheart, you don't have to, really…" he protests.

"You just defended me. Bandaging your knuckles is the least I can do to thank you," you tell him firmly, leaving no room for refusal. 

Fuck, you’re so sweet. So perfect and sweet. You could ask him for the moon and he’d try to find a way to lasso it down for you. 

His heart quickens as you interlace your fingers with his on his left hand and guide him through the restaurant. He even chuckles a little to himself when you tell him to watch his step. You’re being so nice, he can’t be misinterpreting this – there’s no way. But why didn’t you call? The question weighs heavy on his mind. 

In the small office, you flick on the light switch and rummage through the cabinets until you find an old first aid kit tucked away in the back. He leans against the desk, quietly observing you, taking in the fact that he’s here, in this tiny office, with you. That you care enough to help him. That he cares enough to protect you. 

"Ah, got it," you say with a hint of excitement that you found the kit, a little surprised there was even one stashed away. Though most of the bandages and finger condoms are missing, there's still plenty of gauze and alcohol wipes.

His cock twitches a little when you rip open the alcohol wipe with your teeth, he thinks you might be good with your mouth in more ways than one. 

"This might sting a bit," you warn, meeting his gaze with genuine care. I can take it, baby. He can tell the way you’re being with him right now might be your nature, to want to take care of those around you. To be what they need. 

“‘You can make it up to me later,” he whispers, hoping you’re sensing the intention behind his words. As you’re patting the blood on his knuckles, he feels the need to know why you didn’t call bubble up to the surface, the question at the tip of his tongue. Oh just ask her. 

“Can I ask you something,” he says, looking down at you, not even realizing he’s holding his breath. He exhales when he hears you say mhmm in response. 

Rip off the fucking bandaid man. 

“Why didn’t you call?” 

He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I wanted to. I mean, I almost did – I typed out so many texts to you it’s borderline embarrassing,” you pause for a second to grab the gauze from the counter behind him. As you lean in closer to him, you bring with you the soft scent of your shampoo. You smell like honey and the earthy, clove smell of tobacco. You smell divine.  

“I guess I’m just not used to being wanted. Don’t know how to do this kind of thing. I’ve been alone for so long, and I guess, I don’t know, Joel,” you affix a little piece of tape to the gauze, before dropping his hand, all finished. How could anyone not want you?

He watches you intently as you stand before him, grateful that you’re being so honest with him. He wishes so badly you would look him in the eye. 

“I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Not sure why a guy like you would even want a girl like me to call him anyway…” you trail off, letting out a small cough to hide the emotion creeping up in your throat. Is she joking?  

He floats his hands up to your hips, and he tugs you in closer to him, body weight still propped up against the desk, his thick thighs bracketing yours. You still avoid his eyes, your gaze seemingly fixed on a button on his shirt. 

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

His hand still hurts a little, a dull throb, but he could care less right now. He trails it up over the side of your body until his fingers land under your chin. Sweet girl. He uses his thumb to tilt you up to look at him. You look so beautiful right now, so raw and so perfect. The soft plush of your lips draws his attention, and he can’t help but touch them.

There’s so much he could say, so much he wants to say. He wants to build you up, to tell you that you’re worthy of the whole world. That you’re beautiful and kind, and that any man would be lucky to have you. He doesn’t even have to deeply know you to know those things. 

But he can tell from the look in your eyes that it’s not what you need right now. He’ll tell you someday. He’ll tell you every day if you’ll have him. 

But no. 

Right now you don’t need someone to tell you how gorgeous you are, you need someone to show you.

“Joel,” he hears you whisper, knowing full well that his thumb is still on your lower lip. He wants so badly to know what they’d feel like on his. 

“Ki–” 

Fuck it. 

He drops his hand and leans in to crash his lips into yours, and holy shit. He wants you so fucking bad. He’s never wanted anything, or anyone, more. 

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and his cock hardens when you let out a little whimper. He holds you tighter to his chest, his thick and capable hands admiring the soft curves of your hips. He needs more, needs to taste your skin, needs to know what it feels like on his lips. He dips his mouth to your neck, kitten-kissing you as delicately as he can. More, he needs more. 

He skims his injured hand underneath your shirt, caressing the skin between your shoulder blades. Jesus, you’re so impossibly soft, your skin feels like silk compared to his. He nips at your jaw, and the soft moan escapes your lips makes him feel feral. 

“Fuck, baby. Wanna go slow with you, take my time. Do it right,” he says, internally acknowledging how wrecked it comes out.

He trails his hand up and pulls the shirt of your uniform down over your breast, exposing the simple lacey bra. Ugh. It’s so much for him, the little moans you keep making for him as he kisses your neck, the way your nipples respond beneath the fabric to his touch.

“Wanna show you what you’re worthy of sweet girl, in all the ways,” he groans into your chest, and he means it.  

“I want you to fuck me so badly,” you blurt out, lost in the delusion of arousal. 

Fuck. Yes. 

His cock is rock hard, so stiff it’s almost painful. He doesn’t even remember the last time he was this hard. He wants so badly for you to just fall to your knees in this tiny little office and suck it. He wants so badly to hold the column of your throat while he shoves his thick cock into your wet and waiting mouth, feel him deep down your throat. More. He needs more. 

He hopes to god that you’ll chant his name like a prayer when he unravels you like a spool of thread. He can hear it in his head now, as he licks your soft skin and holds you against him. He can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’ll sound when you come for him.

“Patience, angel baby. You’re in good hands,” he purrs. 

“Can I undress you?” he asks. He wants you to know that you’re in control here, that hel’ll only do what you want him to and nothing more. You call the shots. 

You toe off your beat-up sneakers and work to take off your shirt and bra, and he works to unbutton your skirt. Fucking buttons. He thinks it’s cute the way you wiggle your hips to assist him in removing the barrier. After what seems like no time at all, you’re nearly fully nude in front of him, bare save the thin cotton of your panties. Perfection. You are perfection.

He frowns a little when he notices you cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide your body. 

“God damn, sweetheart. Look at you,” he says, taking a small step back and admiring the view. He thinks you’re a masterpiece, a piece of art holding court just for him to gaze at. He’s never really considered himself to be lucky, but he must have done something right to have you right here with him right now. 

He gently grabs the arm you’re covering yourself with and exposes your bare chest. Don’t hide, baby. 

“No need’ta hide from me,” he tries to reassure you. 

You push your chest out to him, for him. He accepts your offering; swipes a calloused thumb across your plush, silky nipple, and crouches to catch the other in his desperate mouth. He groans into your chest the second your nipple meets his lips. He smirks at the sound of the deep hum that escapes from your throat, lips still attached to your breast. 

“Feels so good, Joel,” you moan. Just getting started with you. 

He trails kisses down the valley of your breasts, across the soft swell of your stomach, doing his best to whisper sweet praises as he does. It feels so good, so natural when you drape your hands over his broad shoulders and thread your fingers through the curls. It’s been so long since he’s been touched like that, the feeling goes straight to his cock. More. More. More. 

He can tell you’re a little hesitant, maybe a little lost in your thoughts. He does his best to pull you back to him. On his knees, he places both of his hands on the curves of your hips and holds you steady while he looks up at you. You look so beautiful looking down at him, your lips slightly parted, your skin shiny from the sheen of sweat, your obvious arousal evident on your face. He wonders what he must look like to you. 

“Can I take these off, baby?” he asks, hooking his thumbs in the band of them. He wants to hear you say it, to permit him to cross that line. 

“You, um, you don’t have to. It’s okay, really…” you shy away. 

Please, he pleads to himself silently. 

He presses his nose into your mound and fuck, you smell so good, he can’t help but moan. 

“Smell so sweet, need to taste you, sweetheart. I won’t if you don’t want me to, but fuck, I would love to,” he says, and it’s true. He suspects you’ve never had a real man take care of you, taking the time to pleasure you to your heart’s content. A damn shame.

“O-kay,” you say on an exhale. 

“I gotcha, don’t worry,” he rasps out, his voice equal parts gentle, and gruff with desire. He wants to reassure you. 

He gently tugs the fabric down over your thighs, the fabric gathering at your ankles. You take a small step out of them, and he gently caresses up the back of your calve, and back of your thigh, his hand landing on the curve of your ass. He tightly grabs the flesh there. He gently guides your leg up onto one of his shoulders, and you press back into the wall and lean your pelvis closer to him. 

“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praises, before leaning in to place an experimental kiss on the top of your mound. He thinks this might be the most perfect pussy he’s ever seen in his life. Making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, he looks at you to make sure you’re okay with him continuing. 

He’s eager, and he’s sure it’s coming across in the way he’s kissing you. Once you’re comfortable with his mouth on you, he glides the middle finger of his non-bandaged hand through your wet slit before flipping it so it’s wrist up, pausing with the pad of it right at the entrance of your tight hole. 

He thinks he could come right there, with the way you’re looking down at him with lusty doe eyes and biting your lower lip. He watches your face as he gently nudges the tip in. Fuck, you’re so tight. He holds it there for a brief second, his restraint threadbare, before fully thrusting it up into your core. 

“Fuck angel, you’re tight,” he moans as he continues to feel you, eventually putting his mouth back on your pussy, sealing his lips around your puffy clit. He pumps his finger in and out of you and flicks and swirls his tongue where he can feel you need it the most. You’re so wet for him, so tight, so willing. If he weren’t already on his knees, he knows he’d fall to them eventually, he’d worship at your alter every day if you’d let him. 

“More,” you moan, “Fuck–please, Joel, give me more,” you mewle. 

“That’s my girl, gonna stretch you out, get you nice and ready for this cock,” he whispers against your wet skin as he slips another finger in, one you greedily accept. He devours you, licks at you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, because you are. He could stay here for hours, making you come for him again and again. 

He can tell you’re close, so he picks up his pace. You’re nearly there, seconds away from giving him what he wants. Just one more – 

“Holy shit, yes, I’m coming, oh my god, don’t stop,” you unravel for him, a babbling mess of pleasure, he holds you steady as he works you through it. Perfect, sweet girl. The taste of your release and the pretty sounds you make coming have his cock aching. He gently hoists your leg off of his shoulder and rises to full height. 

“Such a good girl for me, you come so pretty,” he whispers against your neck, nipping at your jaw until your lips find his. He wonders if you’ve ever tasted yourself before, or if he’s the first to kiss you after eating you out – the thought makes him even harder, to know he might be the first to show you how sweet you taste. 

He watches as you begin to kneel before him. He stops you before your knees touch the floor. 

“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” you ask. He does. Of course he does. He’s just not sure he’d last, but he’d never admit that, besides, there’s something he needs so much more right now. 

“Oh angel baby, I would love to feel those sweet little lips of yours wrapped tight around my cock, hold your throat as you choke on me,” he coos.

He groans as he feels you bring your palm to cup him through his jeans, drinking in the sensation of your hands tracing over him. His jaw tightens and his head falls back as you work over him. His cock welcomes the attention, too. He’s already leaking, he needs to come so bad.  

“But there’s something I want more right now. Feel what you do to me?” he says, pressing your hand harder down onto him. “Need to feel that sweet, tight cunt of yours around me first,” he says intensely. You make quick work of undoing his belt buckle and slip off his jeans and boxers in one swoop. It feels so good to be free of the confines of his pants, the pressure on his cock a little less overwhelming now. 

“Yo–you’re so big,” you say, a little intimidated. He grabs you by the hips and holds you tight against him, his cock pressed between your bodies against the bare flesh of your tummy. He can tell you might be a little overwhelmed, but he reassures you. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can take it,” he says, using one hand to grab the back of your thigh and tapping the other. He lifts you with ease and spins you around so you’re sitting on the mahogany desk in front of him. He stands between your legs, holding himself by the base, pumping himself slowly up and down his length with his fist. He stares at your wet, aching hole, wishing he was buried inside of it. The thought dawns on him that he doesn’t have a condom. No, fuck. “I’m on birth control,” you say, blurting it out. “And I’m clean, you don’t have to use a condom, I mean, if you don’t want to.” And shit – that’s quite possibly the best sentence he’s ever heard in his entire life. 

He knows it might be a little reckless, but he doesn’t have any reason to believe you’d lie to him.

 “Okay. Open your legs wide for me, baby. Wanna see you,” he says, and you do as he tells you. He sees his hard cock in his hand and opens his mouth to spit on it. You’re wet and ready, but he knows he’s a lot to take, and he doesn’t want to hurt you. 

He admires the way you’re holding your legs open for him, giving him full access to your cunt. He positions himself at your entrance and gently pushes his hips forward so the tip of him is inside of you. Holy fuck. He pauses there, giving you a second to adjust. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see you as I take what’s mine,” he says, his voice a wreck. When you open them, he sinks even deeper. Halfway inside of you, he pauses again. How is he ever supposed to last with your pussy clenched this tight around him. 

He asks if you’re okay, and when you nod, he pushes in a little more, dragging back out of you for only a second, until he’s jutting his hips forward, fully burying himself deep inside of you. Nothing has ever felt this good to him, nothing could ever compare. 

Jesus, think of something else – make this last. He tries to distract his mind, disconnect his cock from his brain, but there’s no point. His primal urges have taken over, his body is losing the war with his mind. 

He sets a slow and steady rhythm at first, dragging in and out of you. He would love to fuck you harder, deeper. He knows he won’t last long, but he doesn’t care, as long as he gets you to come for him one more time. 

“You can fuck me harder, Joel. ‘M not gonna break, I promise,” you coo. His hand flexes tighter, and that’s all he needs. Give the girl what she wants. “Shit, c’mere,” he says, helping you off the desk, steading your legs. He flips you over and presses you against the desk. Your hips are perfectly positioned at the edge. He’s not sure anything could be prettier than you bent over, waiting to once again be stuffed with him. 

He stands behind you, angles your hips up slightly, and once again buries himself in you.

“Such a perfect cunt,” he groans, beginning to set a relentless pace. As good as this feels for him, he can tell that something about this angle does something for you, too. His cock fits just right, pushing and gliding over the spongey spot inside of you that he can tell is gonna be the thing that pushes you over the cliff of your orgasm. He holds your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, eliciting throaty moans from you. The air is filled with the filthy wanton sound of skin slapping against skin. 

“I –” you mew, “I think I’m gonna come again,” he hears you say, a little breathless. 

“Come for me, baby. Be the good girl I know you are and show me how pretty you are when you come on my cock,” he says, a little out of breath, voice deep. 

Yeah, that’s right. Use me.  

And you do. Your pussy pulses around him as the wave of your orgasm takes over you, and it’s borderline too much for him. He’s gotta slow down if he’s gonna last another second. 

“Where do you want me, baby?”

“Inside, please. Want you to fill me up, make me yours,” you beg for him. 

Holy fuck.

After a few more thrusts of his hips, he begins to stutter and slow. He pauses buried to the hilt inside of you and groans as his cock paints your insides with thick ropes of come. The immediate release of pressure is exhilarating, probably the best orgasm he’s ever had. He feels his cock pulse out final spurts of come, eliciting shakes from him with each one. He feels weightless like he could fly away and sleep on a cloud.

The sensation of him pulling out is a little much, his cock raw and spent. “Stay there,” he says, scurrying off to the kitchen, looking for something he can give you to help clean you up. His eye catches a roll of paper towels next to the sink and he grabs a handful of them for you. 

When he enters the office, he notices how breathtaking you look post-orgasm, post-fuck. It’s a sight he’ll commit to memory forever. He presses his lips to yours again, drinking in your sweetness once more. He thinks he could kiss you forever and never tire of it. 

He helps you get dressed, and you fasten his belt buckle for him and check the gauze on his fist. You both stand there in silence, not quite sure where to go from here, until he offers up. 

“Wanna smoke?” 

++++

“So, how long have you lived here’?” he asks, holding open the lit zippo from his back pocket to you. With the cigarette dangling between your lips, you steady it between your fingers and lean in, he admires your features amidst the dim glow of the fire. So beautiful.

“Too long,” you mumble. He lights his own. 

“And you, where are you off to next?” He hears you ask, and he's not sure how to respond.

“Not sure, the contract job my brother and I have in the county over ends in a week or so. Was thinkin’ it might be nice to head south, maybe Austin,” he responds, smoke twirling in the air around you both. 

“Although, ‘M not so sure anymore. Starting to think I might have a few things I need to take care of here first,” he says, shifting his gaze from the ground until his hooded eyes find yours. You. I need to take care of you.

You smile when he winks at you. Gosh, you’re cute when you smile. He wants to be the reason you smile every day. 

You stand there in comfortable silence, leaning up against the wall next to him. He thinks it feels nice to be wanted, to have someone to just be with. 

And when it’s time to go, he offers you his hand and a ride home. He’s pleased when you accept. 

It’s too soon. He knows it’s too soon, but the thought of you in the passenger seat of his truck, feet on the dash, wind in your hair, makes his heart skip a beat. 

He wants more. 

And something tells him you do, too. 

END

Ily. Thanks for reading! Tags: @endlessthxxghts @theoasisofthings @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @morallyinept @missladym1981 @auteurdelabre @morgaussy @likeficsinthewnd @morning-star-joy @agentjackdaniels @cayleej @amyispxnk @zialltops @syd-djarin @untamedheart81 @gracevnn @pedrossl4t @littlevenicebitch69 @chulopascal

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedrostories #consent #joel miller #joel miler x fem!reader #joel miller fanfic #Joel's POV

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I'm sorry to come here to distract you with my horny thoughts but I feel like you are the only one that will understand me.

I can't help the thought of a lonely cute housewife reader who's husband spend all day at work and didn't pay attention to her. One day a man knock at the door and she found a big muscular blue eyed man (König 🥴) that says his husband has hired him to fix something at the house. She let him in and can't help but stare the whole time at his muscles as he works. She offered a cup of water like the cute housewife she is and after they exchange words she says that she think his husband is cheating on her. And something inside his head made 'click'. How a man can cheat on such a perfect woman? She's so precious and gentle in her cute silky robe. If she was his wife he would praise her everyday and made love to her every minute of the day. And when he came back to Earth he was already bullying his cock inside her over the kitchen counter.

Of course he will come back everyday to fix her house and bully her pussy like she deserve it.

Yes, König is so bad in scenarios like this, he absolutely sucks.

Tells himself he’d never do love triangles, he’d never touch another man’s woman, marriage is sacred & bla bla bla. But this one girl is so heartbroken... She’s absolutely desolate, just look at her, she’s so so sad! Offers him cookies and milk, coffee and pastries, a home cooked meal one day like he’s her husband instead of the one who’s never at home.

There’s always something that needs a little fixing in her house; the oven, some plumbing, her car. Her man doesn’t seem to care at all that his girl is unhappy, and living with broken, beeping machines. But nowadays she’s smiling so sweetly, telling him he’s far too good and kind. Tells him about her serial cheater husband, how she feels so unwanted and lost but how it brings her hope to see that there are still good men around. Good, gentle men like him.

Next thing he knows, she’s crying in his arms, soft little sobs sighed all over his neck. Next thing he knows, he’s telling her she’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen... Next thing he knows, they’re somehow on the floor, and she’s still sobbing in his ear. Next thing he knows, he’s tugging her panties to the side while she begs him to fuck the pain away.

Lovely pleading doe eyes stare at him softly as he pulls the throbbing cock out of his pants, hellbent on fixing whatever needs fixing in this house. She’s a paying customer, after all, and if he and his cock can make the crying stop then König can gladly call it a job well done… It’s just that he sometimes gets a bit carried away, whispering in her ear how he could be her husband instead. How she could give him twins and they could move to the seaside, wouldn’t that be nice, hmm? – just when she’s about to cum...

#könig being könig #this is one of the cutest prompts ever imho! ;.; #könig x reader #tw: cheating

[lacroixwh0r3]

In a Good Way

Farmer!Abby Anderson x Housewife!Reader

Summary: You help Abby relax after a long day on the farm.

Warnings: SMUT!! a little bit of fluff, oral (a recieving), fingering (a recieving), hair pulling, kissing, mommy kink, orgasm denial, petnames, switch!Abby, switch!reader, squirting, spit, overstimulation, and a lil degradtion

Song inspo: Kingston by Faye Webster

A/N: I tried to keep it sweet and cute and then I just completely went off the rails with this...oops!

Also I hit 700 followers on here...wtf thank y'all so much! it is so amazing to be able to share my stuff on here.

And ofc, like, share, reblog, and comment.

Abby had finally finished up the last thing she needed to do around the farm before she headed back home. When she looked at the time on her phone, she realized that she was going to get home early.

As soon as she pulled up to the driveway of her home that she shared with you, her excitement grew. Abby knew that you were most likely cooking some delicious meals for dinner as well as dessert to have afterwards. She hated having to leave you all alone in the house while she was away working. Every morning at 7 a.m., she got dressed for the day, and you would lay in bed looking and beg her to stay even though you knew she couldn't. She would tell you how much she wishes she could, then place a soft kiss on your lips and make her way out the door.

Oh, but the look on your face when she got home made it all worth it to Abby.

When she left, you found things to do around the house to occupy your time. Some days you would clean around the house, make a quick trip to the local farmers market to pick up some things, read, paint your nails, or count down the hours until your wife got home.

You have to admit that it was sometimes lonely when Abby wasn't around, but you didn't really mind it. She tried to encourage you to go out and make some friends, but you refused. You were never good at making friends, and you were okay with being alone. Being alone allowed you to have time to do whatever you wanted without being judged by other people.

Abby calls out your name but gets no response. However, she did hear the sound of soft music playing from the kitchen and you singing along beautifully. The smell of whatever you were cooking made Abby extra hungry as she tiptoed her way to you.

"I didn't know that I was capable of being happy right now, But you showed me how"

She stopped at the door and noticed that your back was turned to her as you swayed your body and stirred the pot.

Behind you, you could hear the familiar sounds of Abby's heavy boots coming up behind you slowly. You try to hold back a giggle because you know she is trying to scare you. You could feel her body close behind you as you kept on moving your hips softly to the beat.

"Hey, baby," You say with your back still facing her.

"How the fuck do you do that? I can never get you," Abby playfully scoffs as she brings her hands onto your hips and presses her body onto yours. Both of you were now swaying together to the beat of the song.

"Because I know you and all your tricks, abbs," You chuckle. "You can never scare me." Abby lets out a soft hum as she kisses the back of your neck and up to the back of your ear. You leaned your head to the side, allowing her better access as your body relaxed into hers and your eyes closed.

"You make me wanna cry in a good way"

"I missed you so fucking much, baby." She whispers into your ear. You shivered as Abby's hands began to move toward your stomach, pulling you further into her hard body.

"I miss you too, sweetheart," you breathe out dreamily. You had missed Abby so much today that all you wanted to do was stay in her arms forever. "I was thinking about you all day." Abby places a kiss on your ear.

"Mm, yeah? My beautiful little wife was thinking about me today." You didn't even realize that you still had the wooden spoon in your hand until you dropped it into the pan of mashed potatoes. You spin around and wrap your arms around Abby's neck, as one of her hands is now sitting low on your back and the other is placed in the middle of your back.

All you could do was stare into her eyes before you began to speak. "You don't understand how much I think about you every day, darling," you confess to Abby as you place a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's been a year since we got married, and I still can't believe you're mine, Abby." You tell her breathlessly. Her freckle-covered cheeks turned a deep red as she blushed.

"Baby, I should be saying these things to you," She tells you as she brings her face close to you without any hurry. "Beautiful." She whispers before her lips fall on yours.

The kiss was soft. Neither of you rushed it, as you both took your time and savored each other. You were addicted to the taste of Abby's soft, pouty lips and the taste of her mint chapstick that she always put on.

"You weigh just as much as me, don't you I can feel it when we touch"

Your hands grip the back of her neck as the other tugs at her messy blonde braid. Abby moaned into your mouth as you kept tugging and as she leaned in, making you bend back a bit. You feel her hand, which was placed on your lower back, now go down to your ass. Abby kneads at it as she continues to kiss you.

A minute later, you both pull away from each other simultaneously, breathing heavily.

As you both stare and caress each other, you give her braid one last tug as you stand on your tippy toes and go to kiss the bottom of her chin. Her fingers were still kneading into your cheek. "Why don't you go take a shower? Dinner should be ready as soon as you get out; is that fine with you, baby?" You ask her as you rub the back of her neck.

Abby gently nods her head as she replies, "Okay, baby. Thank you so much." She leaves one last kiss on your head as she gives your ass a quick slap and makes her way out of the kitchen.

All you could do was bite your lips and shake your head while observing her ass and thighs in her tight cargo pants.

...

After Abby's shower, she somehow convinced you to ditch dinner and sit with her for a little.

"Baby, I'm not even that hungry, honestly. I just wanna hold you." She says as she sits on the couch, pulling your waist so you can sit on her lap. Rather than sitting sideways on her lap, you adjusted yourself so that you were straddling her.

You knew she was hungry, she was just coming up with an excuse for you to join her.

"Abby, I know you're lying, babes." You tell her, looking deeply into her blue eyes as you push away some of the loose hair that came out of her braid. Her hands came up to your waist and held onto it.

Ugh, whatever, but I still wanna be here with you right now. I feel like we barely got to see each other this week," Abby confessed. You nodded your head and let out a hum, letting her know that you agreed.

Instantly, a thought popped into your head. "You know what, Abs?" You looked at her with bright eyes, seeing that she was already looking down at you with a curious look on her face. "You've been working really hard at the farm all week, and I think you deserve a break, don't you think?"

Abby briefly thinks about it: "Uh, I mean, I guess, sweetheart, but it's going to be really hard to find someone to take care of everything..." As much as Abby would love to spend the day with you, she knew that in order to get the job done the way she wanted it done, she was going to have to be the one to do it.

"Abby, please take the day off..." Your hand drops into your lap and slides up her shirt so you can feel her. "For me, baby," you murmur in a low voice. You observe her eyes as the soft look that was once there has quickly been replaced with a desirous stare.

"You slutty girl, you just want me to take off so I can have my way with you and make you cum all day, hmm?" Abby looked into one of your eyes, down at your lips, and back up to the other eye. All you could do was nod your head, unable to articulate the words.

Her words were vulgar, but she made them sound like the sweetest thing on earth with her soft voice.

The girl lets out a hum before she can say anything else. "Fine, I'll see what I can do." She places a quick peck on your lips and begins sensually gliding her fingers up and down your waist, inching close to your ass. You arch your back into her strong one, making your whole body tremble with nervousness and excitement. Your head started to feel fuzzy.

Even after years of knowing Abby and being very intimate with her, you still get nervous around her at times. It was easy for Abby to detect your nervousness without you saying anything. "Aww, am I making you nervous, my love?"

"You always make me nervous, Abs."

"Yeah?"

You nodded your head, leaned forward, and wrapped your arms around her neck. First you stroked the back of her head, then you pulled her braid down, making her head lean back into the couch.

You couldn't help yourself whenever she had her braid in. Something about the hairstyle invited you to pull against it, which Abby didn't hate. As a matter of fact, Abby loved it when you pulled her hair as she ate you out.

You bent your neck down and began to lick on the sensitive spot on her neck, making her grip your waist tighter and your hips thrust up to your clothed core.

"Oh, this feels so good, my girl." She whimpers softly. "You're making mommy feel so good."

Her words made you suck and lick her neck more. You wrapped her hair around your fist to help hold her in place. Abby trembled with pleasure as her throat released a sexy moan. With each suck on her neck, Abby could feel the sensation shoot down her body, making her clit throb.

"I wish I was fucking your pussy right now," she confessed. "I'd pound that pussy so good while you suck all down my neck." You could feel her throat vibrate with each word.

You continued your assault on her neck for a little while longer until you unwrapped her hair from your fist, stopped sucking, and leaned off of her body. She released your waist, stretching her arms on the top of the couch as she looked at you and bit her luscious lips. "Oh fuck me, baby. You look so delicious right now." You groan before grabbing her chin to look at her neck. The redish, purple hickey on her neck caught your eye. "This will let everyone know you're mine. You're my wife only, right?" You asked her possessively.

She nodded her head as soon as you asked her, "Forever, I'm forever yours, baby. Only yours."

"Good." You say as you place a quick kiss on her lips.

You never doubted Abby's loyalty at all; she never gave you any reason to question her—you just liked hearing her tell you.

"You want me to go up the stairs and get the strap, baby?" She asked. You shook your head at her, causing her to slightly frown.

You absolutely love it when she fucks you with the strap, but tonight you wanted it to be all about her. You wanted to show her how much you appreciated her.

"No, I wanna make you feel good, my love." You tell her before pushing yourself off of her lap and sitting down next to her. You were balled up into her side; your feet were folded up on the couch, and your right hand sat on her lower stomach. You noticed that her pants sat low on her hips—she didn't have on her underwear, and your fingers were just a couple of inches away from her pussy.

"Can I make you feel good?" You whispered to her as you looked up at her to see her already looking at you. Her eyes gazed at you as she took in your appearance.

"Baby, you don't have to do that, you know," she pleaded, making you scoff at her.

Abby is a stubborn woman; she's always so hard to persuade, even if you're practically begging her.

"I know, I don't have to do anything," you bluntly tell her, "but I want to."

The hand that once sat on her lower stomach was now gathering the spit from your mouth and about to slip into her pants before you looked at her again. Abby sat there agape with anticipation, ready to see what you were going to do. "Is it okay if I touch you, baby?" You asked her before touching her.

She wildly shook her head until she realized that words weren't coming out of her mouth. "Y-yeah," She stammers.

With that, you slide your hands deeper into her pants, feeling the light fuzz of her hair, and dip your spit-coated fingers onto her clit. You feel her strong arm bring your body closer to her tense one as she shakes and gasps. She was already sopping wet without your spit.

Her eyes flutter closed, while yours are still stuck on her face. "You're so wet, mommy. Tell me when I made you this wet." You moaned out as you rubbed lazy circles onto her throbbing clit.

"When-" She tries to speak but is interrupted by her own moans. She bites down on her fist as she tries to gather her words and stop herself from moaning.

You didn't like that, though; you loved hearing her pretty moans.

"Put your fist down; I want to hear all your beautiful sounds. Now, tell me what made you so wet, mommy." She instantly dropped her fist as her grip on your shoulder tightened.

"When you-oh my god-when you licked my neck and gave me a hickey," she said as you used your middle finger to flick her clit back and forth in a fast motion, making Abby try to grab at your hand. She didn't know what she was feeling right now. She wanted you to stop, but she also wanted you to keep going. She wanted to cum and lose her mind at the same time.

As she inched closer to her release, she whispered, Don't stop, in your ear, but that didn't stop you from teasing her, so you gradually slowed your pace on her clit and completely stopped. Just as fast as the feeling came, it left just as quickly after you slowed down, making Abby narrow her eyes at you and snarl.

"Aww, you were gonna cum? Hmm, baby?" You tease her as you pull out your hand from her pants and stick your fingers into your mouth, tasting her saltiness. You made eye contact with her as you sucked on your finger.

"You're such a tease, you know that, right?" She breathes out.

You just let out a laugh as you popped your finger out of your mouth. Abby suddenly moved her arm around you and got off the couch, leaving you confused. She then began to strip herself of her pajama pants, leaving her nude from the waist down. You couldn't help but kiss her pelvic bone as she stood tall in front of you. You swipe your pointer finger through her wet slit, making her weak to the knees. Before she could go down, she staggered and grabbed your shoulder tightly.

"N-no touching yet, sweetie..." She scowled at you and said, "You're gonna get on your knees and eat my pussy like a good girl, okay?" You nod your head at her as your eyes trail up her body, stopping at her face. She released your shoulder, stroked your cheek, and faintly muttered good.

She sat down on the couch, scooting to the edge so that her bottom was halfway hanging off. She sat there with her legs wide open, practically inviting you in. You just sat there, taking in her appearance, until she snapped you out of it. "What are you waiting for, baby? Get on your knees."

Without any hesitation, you dropped to your knees and positioned yourself between her legs, just a few inches away from her pussy, which was glistening from her wetness. You gawked at the view in front of you as your mouth watered, still tasting her juices on your tongue.

"Are you alright?" she asked you, making you look up at Abby, who had her eyebrow cocked up with amusement. "You can have a taste if you want," she encouraged you. However, you didn't need much encouragement.

With that, you leaned forward, feeling the heat of her body as you got closer, and licked up her wet slit before wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking. Abby let out a gasp, holding her breath as she silently uttered, Oh my god, with a strained expression. She was about to reach for your head before she tried to grasp the cushion of your shared couch. You can hear her scratch at the polyester as her dull nails slide across it.

You dug yourself deeper between her legs, swirling and flicking your tongue around her clit. You could feel her arousal spreading across your face, including your nose. "Just like that, baby, keep eating mommy's pussy," she said, breathing hard. You felt yourself grow more and more greedy for her; you wanted to feel her against you, but you continued on pleasuring her. "You love tasting me, huh, beautiful?"

You loved it more than she could know; seeing the way she squirmed and moaned as you ate her out did something to you. It made you feel feral.

You let out a deep moaned around her clit, making her convulse at the vibrations. Abby's eyes squeezed shut as her jaw went slack before you released her clit from your mouth with a faint pop. You watched her sigh out as her eyes opened. She looked down at you with twinkling eyes and let out a chuckle. "Oh fuck, look at that messy face," she cooed at you. You licked up some of it that sat on your lips.

"It's so good, mommy," You moaned up at her.

"Yeah? Well, why don't you have some more?"

You nodded as you went back to licking her pussy. First, you nibbled at her lips, licking them and sucking. She enjoyed it for a little before she let out a frustrated grunt due to the lack of stimulation.

"Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you actually gonna do something?" She said. You let out a soft laugh at her frustration, causing her to mutter fine as she grabbed onto the side of your head and shifted her hips so that your mouth went onto her clit. "Now eat." She demanded.

Right when she said that, your lips began to suckle on her pearl gently, making sure not to do too much. She pulled you in more as she grinded her hips, loving the way it felt when her clit when released from your mouth and sucked back in. You tuned out the sounds of your slurping as you were focused on making her cum.

"My good little slutty wife, look at you," she sighs out as you lap up her juices, "a-always taking care of me." You tried to keep your eyes open to watch her, but with her words and delicious taste, you couldn't help it.

You began sucking harder, making her body tense and her legs clamp around your head, but you quickly grabbed her inner thigh. You allowed your drool to flow off your tongue as you ferociously ate her cunt, making her more soaked.

"Gonna cum, baby! I'm gonna cum all over that pretty face." She moaned loudly, making you moan as well. "I'm cumming, oh fuck!" Her body was still tense, but now she was shaking—she cursed out and moaned your name as her cum gushed into your mouth. You swallowed it while some of it dripped down your chin.

You eventually pulled away from her pussy once her orgasm died down. Her breathing was loud as she lay there with her eyes closed, trying to catch her breath. Her loose strand of hair was stuck to her now sweaty forehead, looking beautiful as always. You just sat there between her thighs as you whispered, It's okay.

Finally, Abby took one last deep breath before opening her eyes, looking down at you, and letting out a chuckle. "I needed that," She said. Her hands rested over top of her t-shirt-covered stomach as she relaxed on the couch.

"I can tell, baby. You okay?"

"I'm more than okay," she said as she smirked at you, making you giggle. "Now can I fuck you? I wanna make you feel good."

"Nuh uh, Ms. Anderson, not tonight." You tell her as you place kisses on her inner thigh. Her body began to squirm, but she still kept her composure.

"It's actually Mrs. Anderson," she corrected you with her perfectly shaped eyebrow arched as she raised her left hand to show you her ring. "And why not, baby?" Her previous expression dropped quickly as she pouted.

"Because...I wanna keep tasting you tonight," you try to tempt her as you place your kisses closer to her pussy. It was working because she sucked in a sharp breath and bit down on her lip.

"You think you can cum one more time for me, mommy?" You asked her as you planted a kiss just above her pussy where the hair lay, on her soaking lips, and on her clit. She just nodded weakly as she watched.

You placed one more soft kiss on her clit before starting your attack again. You began to eat her out as if you were tongue kissing her plush lip. "Fuck, what has gotten into you, sweetie?" Abby moaned.

You groaned onto her pussy while bringing your fingers up to her pussy and teased her wet hole. You realized that you caught her by surprise because her body jolted. Once you slithered your finger into her, you began to move it in and out of her while servicing her clit with your mouth. You can feel her walls squeeze around your fingers.

"You're gonna make me cum already."

"Give-give me your hand so I can hold it while you make me cum," Abby sputtered out. You reach up, with your left arm resting on her thighs and stomach as our hands intertwine. Abby's stomach, as well as yours, flipped—there was something so mushy yet arousing about it. Seeing and feeling her finger rub against the ring she had given you did something to you. You move away from her pussy with your teeth lightly grazing against her clit. You slowly pulled your fingers out of her, then began to rapidly rub her pussy, making sure to focus on her clit.

"I-I'm cu-oh my god, I'm cumming." Her moans became uncharacteristically high, her legs got wider, and her grip on your hand tightened. Your arm began to ache as you continued your movements, but you had no plans on stopping.

"Cum for me, Abby; cum all over my hand, beautiful." You egged her on. You felt her squirm, trying to get away, but you pressed your wrist down on her stomach. Her face got redder and spread down to her neck.

"Shit! If you keep going, I'm gonna-" Her words were cut off as her eyes rolled to the back of her skull. Suddenly, her wet sounds got louder, and liquid began to gush from her, causing it to go everywhere. Down your arm, on your face, on your shirt, and all over herself. Some of it had even gotten on the couch, leaving a large wet spot, and on the carpet.

We're definitely going to have to get a new couch now.

"Oh!" You squealed out in surprise, continuing to rub against her clit. "You're squirting so much, baby!" It made you giddy that you were the one doing this to her.

Her body trashed around and trembled as she tried to speak, but she couldn't, so you decided that she had enough and stopped. You got off your knees and sat on the couch next to her before pulling her head into your chest. Her arms immediately wrapped around you. You could feel her quivering and breathing hard into your chest as you stroked and kissed her head.

"You did so good, baby," you murmured to her, rocking her back and forth.

You both stayed like that until she cooled down. You heard her say something, but you couldn't hear her, so you asked her to repeat herself.

"I can eat your pussy now," She said as her words were muffled into your chest.

"No, Abby. You need to rest."

"But I—" she tried to get out before you interrupted her.

You rolled your eyes. She was being stubborn again.

"No, plus you'll be home all day tomorrow, so you can do whatever you want." You smirked, making her smile into your chest, and said true in agreement.

It went quiet for a while until you felt Abby's breathing even out and her body slump against yours. She was asleep. You just shook your head, knowing she had been tired all along.

#abby tlou #abby anderson #abby x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou fic #tlou part 2 #tlou smut #tlou2 #tlou fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #Farmer!abby anderson #smut

[svnarin]

⊹˚₊‧ ATTENTION

xavier thinks that your recently adopted cat is taking your attention away from him. spoilers: xavier just doesn't want to share your attention, even if it's just with a cat.

“uh xavier, why are you having a staring contest with our cat?” you ask, tilting your head as you look at what is in front of you—xavier holding your cat up in the air, staring intently into the cat’s soul while it meows and purrs in his hold. 

“i just realized something…this cat has been hoarding all your attention these past few days,” xavier responds without batting an eye on you as he still holds your cat up in the air. 

xavier is definitely jealous of your cat. petty, right? you cannot blame him, though, because even before you adopted your cat together, he was the og housecat in this household—your oversized housecat to be specific.

don’t get xavier wrong because he actually liked the idea of the two of you adopting your first together. and when the two of you finally adopted one, he also ended up loving it—he just did not expect that your cat would “take” your attention away from him. 

before, xavier could always cuddle with you on the bed or couch and he always had your hands ruffling his hair while you were both cuddling. your hands are always just on him and nothing else, but now? he can’t even cuddle with you without your hand petting your cat. sometimes, you would even bring your cat on your lap to pet it or play with it, which prevents him from lying his head on your lap as he reads a book like he usually does. 

“xavier, wait…are you jealous of our cat?” you can’t help but give out a chuckle. 

“hey, don’t laugh at me,” xavier protests as he tries to hide his embarrassment by averting his eyes from yours.

“oh c’mon, xavier. our cat likes you.” you walk right up to xavier. “just look at it.” you point at your cat. “see? it’s staring at you with round pupils and it’s purring in your hold,” you point out, taking the cat from his hold before putting it down. and just right after putting it down, your cat walks toward you and rubs itself on your ankle. 

you are about to crouch down and pet it when all of a sudden xavier hugs you from the back as he rests his head on your nape. “if we had only adopted a plushie instead, i would still have all your attention,” he muttered. 

“you sure about that?” you tease xavier, making him huff.

“hm…anyway, do you want to go to destiny café? it’s been so long since we last went there,” xavier hums on your nape.

“oh, i would love to! but…what about our cat? it might get lonely and cry if there’s no one home to keep it company…” 

it’s that cat again, xavier thought. don’t get him wrong—he loves the cat you two adopted much as you love it too; he just thinks that it is stealing all your attention away from him. he hates to admit it, but it is making him a little bit jealous—that is what he thinks. in his defense, he is only a little bit jealous, even though in reality, it is not like the cat is taking all your attention away from him—he just has to share your attention with it.

“but don’t worry, xavier! i was actually thinking of buying a cat backpack so that we can bring our cat with us, so maybe let’s wait for it to arrive instead?”

xavier just hummed but didn’t exactly respond to your question. you can’t see it from your perspective, but from your nape, he is eyeing your cat—thinking that it is his nemesis that has finally brainwashed you into bringing it on your date. now he thinks he really has to do something about it. 

just as you were enjoying the company of xavier on your back and your cat on your feet, the cat started meowing at the two of you all of a sudden. looking at your wall clock to check the time, you realize that it is already time for your cat to eat, leading you to remove xavier’s hands from your waist before walking to the kitchen to feed your cat as it follows you from behind.

just right after you go into the kitchen to feed your cat, xavier immediately pulls out his phone from his pants before starting to type on it, seeming like trying to chat with someone. 

you walk right towards the couch in your living room to lay on it right after you feed your cat. xavier immediately notices it, finding it as a chance for him to finally get physical affection from you and solo it while your cat is eating and leading him to lay on top of you just like a cat.

“xavier, you are such a housecat,” you chuckle as you ruffle his hair.

“yeah, yeah, i’m your housecat—your first housecat. now, just focus on me.”

“mhm.”

it didn’t even take much time when you heard your cat start meowing. it seems like it is finally done eating. how fast, xavier thinks, feeling a little bit annoyed that he now has to share your attention with it again.

your cat jumps on the couch and then to xavier before resting itself like a loaf of bread on xavier’s back. 

“see? our cat really likes you.”

“yeah, yeah. now don't pet it and ruffle my hair instead. also go ready yourself in a few minutes because we’re going out.”

“go out? but what about the ca—” ding dong—you never got to end your sentence when the doorbell rang all of a sudden.

“seems like he came to the apartment earlier than i thought he would.”

“xavier, who was that?”

“caleb.”

“uh, since when did you even get caleb’s phone number?” 

“no more questions,” xavier responds as he taps the cat from his back, making it jump off of him so that he can open the door for caleb. he stands up from the couch before looking at you with a smile. “don’t you think we also need some alone time with each other, yeah? now go get yourself ready because we are going out for the rest of the day. my treat.” 

you didn’t get the chance to question xavier any further since he had already gone to the door to open it for caleb, so you did what he just asked you and went to the bedroom to get yourself ready.

“thanks for coming all the way here, caleb.”

“no worries, xavier. anything for pip-squeak,” caleb laughs as he taps on xavier’s shoulder before crouching to pick up your cat and petting it in his arms. 

just right after you finished readying yourself, you were immediately greeted by caleb as soon as you got into the living room. “caleb, it’s so good to see you!” you come up to hug him. “how’s grandma doing? aren’t you busy? i’m sorry for disturbing you.”

“what? no! don’t be sorry, pip-squeak. plus, i was about to swing by here anyway. and don’t worry, grandma is doing just well.”

“but what brings you here exactly?” you ask.

“well, xavier told me that he needs someone to look after your cat since you haven’t had a good walk around linkon city ‘cause no one can babysit your cat, so here am i.” 

“you really didn’t have to do that.” you elbowed xavier playfully when the two of you were finally walking through the hallway. “be grateful caleb isn’t busy today.” 

“i am grateful, you know—really grateful,” xavier chuckle. “hm, since it worked, i should probably start calling caleb to babysit our cat whenever we go out on a date so that i can have all your attention to myself.”

“seriously, xavier?” you laugh. 

“you bet. now don’t even think about buying that cat backpack so that you can bring our cat to our future dates.”

𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

#⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 : 𝐋&𝐃𝐒 #xavier x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #lads xavier