#i feel like it's too early to post this but. i don't really care <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedgito · 6 months

Text

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Chivalry, Secrets & Hot Tubs (Week One)

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

quick note: i love all the reblogs/feedback and that you're all enjoying this as much as i am <3 and a huge thank you to @swiftispunk for being the best and looking over the first chapter for me, i am completely scatter-brained and forgot to mention this when i posted last monday, so tysm han and pls go check her out if you haven't! & follow my fic update blog (@pedgitos) and turn on post notifications so you don't miss any updates/posted fics!

Chapter Summary: Settling in is easier than you expect, but it does come with a fair share of challenges. A week filled with getting to know one another and some moments shared, your week doesn't end on the best note, leaving you with a choice.

Chapter Warnings: (8k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, domestic shenanigans, Joel being naturally assertive, cooking dinner together, reading is good at encouraging Joel, one hot tub & two stubborn individuals, also...one bed trope incoming

You wake up refreshed, like you’ve been born with a new reverence for life—alright, it might be a bit of an overstatement but it’s a wonder what a decent night of sleep could do and you’re feeling that this idea, playing house with a stranger—though it wasn’t much like that anymore—wasn’t the worst choice. And it reminds you of Joel, having left him in the chair last night, not wanting to burden him but you can only imagine the ache in his bones, his back, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair all night.

You lay for a moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The morning sunshine wasn’t strong here, blanketed out by a stark white snow that covered the ground, it muted out most colors and left a cool, but bright blue that shined through the window above your bed.

It was peaceful. No cars, no buzz of strong electricity outside your window, people and their idle conversation a few floors down from your apartment window. Not even a bird, really. But, there’s a distinct clearing of a throat from the living room that has you stirring in bed, rising lazily as you move with the same enthusiasm.

It was a fresh week. The first official week of your vacation and you were going to start it off on a good note, clambering out of the bed and slipping on a pair of fluffy slippers to keep your toes from freezing off, not bothering to glance in a mirror on the way out—not that you needed to, it didn’t matter. It was early, you were still trying to shed the sleep from your body and you could care less. Plus, it wasn’t like an old t-shirt and sleep shorts was some foreign concept.

When you peek around the corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, you can spot Joel’s head tilting to one side, hand kneading at the taut muscle in the center of his back where his neck starts to begin and then you’re stuck watching as he stretches his arms out wide, working out all of those muscles. Every single one. And you’ve been silent for far too long.

Yeah.

Clearing your throat softly, you approach from behind and keep your distance, announcing your presence like you hadn’t been lingering for a minute or two already.

“Morning,” You greet politely, resting your weight against the edge of the island, taking in full view of a freshly awoken Joel, eyes still puffy from sleep.

He looks very…gentle. Surprisingly, so. It softens his rigid demeanor significantly and you have to silently talk yourself out of glaring at him for too long, “I didn’t want to wake you—I’m so sorry.”

Jeez—you two are getting good at that. Apologizing, afraid to step on each other’s toes.

“Not your fault,” Joel massages his bicep with the heavy pressure of his thumb, looking slightly pained as he rolls his shoulders, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Yeah, but I forced you to stay up, so—”

“You didn’t,” Joel quickly shuts you down, “I’m a grown man,” there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there, but Joel continues, “don’t blame yourself for my own irresponsibility.”

It’s too early for this. You force on a fake smile, void of any real emotion at this hour, running on fumes and the smell of coffee. Speaking of—you sniff, eyes searching for the smell like a dog would track a scent, and Joel is already pointing in the direction you should be looking for when your eyes land on him.

“I already finished it off on my own,” Joel admits, pointedly taking another long sip before resting the mug back on the counter, “I can get another pot goin’ if you need it.”

There’s an inclination to let him, seeing him assert himself so easily and offer, but you shake your head, “I think I can handle a coffee maker,” You assure him, meandering around the kitchen in search of the coffee grounds, ignoring Joel’s tracking of your movements, waiting for a moment to interject and point you in the right direction. You spot them a moment before the urge comes with a soft aha!

“I needed to make a drive into town,” Joel tells you after you’ve gone through the steps of starting your own batch of coffee, “pick up some more food, figured you might wanna tag along.”

He’s not asking, only assuming. But to be fair, his assumption is right.

“Sure,” You reply cooly, pouring yourself a hefty cup of coffee to sip on, letting your body take hold of the caffeine, “...how far away is the closest town?”

“Hour and a half.” Joel answers and you almost have the nerve to go wide-eyed on him, but then you remember just how deep into the woods you both were and that it was necessary.

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?”

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

“I’m leavin’ in thirty,” Joel ignores you, “don’t think I won’t hesitate to leave you here.”

Okay, noted: Joel wasn’t much the morning person you assumed he was.

Joel immediately realizes how little disregard you have for touching things that aren’t yours when you reach for the makeshift box of cassettes tapes placed in the backseat of his truck—the thing was old, riding on it’s last leg, but it was something Joel would cherish until it was unsalvageable, torn seats, dents, and all.

“Ain’t gonna find anything you like in there,” Joel assures you, “None of that pop stuff they’re always playin’ on the radio these days.”

The tables turn on him suddenly, seeing your face contort into a similar emotion that he gave you earlier. Bewilderment, shock, annoyance. You scoff at the comment.

“Says you,” You retort back, sifting through the different cassettes until you find Joel trading glances between you and the road in front of him, almost worried you might chuck his collection out of the passenger side window, “Joel, eyes on the road.”

Joel enjoys a lot of country, which isn’t a total disbelief. But, it wasn’t something you shared the sentiment on, flicking away a handful of country artists you’ve never listened to and reaching some of the good stuff—older rock music, some classic 80s, and late 90s.

You pluck one out carefully, prying open the cassette case with gentle hands before sliding the tape in, allowing the low hum of the music to fill the car. There’s a brief moment of respite before Joel smirks to himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“What were you saying?” You look at him pointedly, shifting slightly in your seat.

Joel looks away briefly, biting back a chuckle, “Fine—I’ll give you some credit. Foo Fighters aren’t terrible, but you skipped right over Bruce Springsteen, so…”

You scoff in disbelief, “You don’t get to criticize me with that atrocious collection of country music,” You stare down at the box in thought, eyes brimming with a mischievous that Joel knows of immediately, he’s seen it before. Not with you, but he knows, “you know, maybe I should just do you a favor and—”

You can barely get a hand on the window roller before Joel’s hand is gripped tight over the box, trapping your other hand in his grip as he warns, “I’m not above leavin’ you stranded in the cold.”

Your grin is nothing but evil and Joel finds that there’s something about you that infuriates him in a way that is hard to describe, not in anger or rage, but a level that he thinks he could match. A game of back and forth that he could play into—but you’re quickly relenting regardless of the threat and placing the box on the floorboard.

“Already tried that,” You retort, “didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Fair is fair. Joel doesn’t poke the beast.

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

“So, what exactly was your plan?” Joel asks curiously. “You comin’ out here with no car and all?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Didn’t really have one, but I would have figured it out.”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, subtly resembling a face of disapproval.

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me, okay?” You don’t wait for a response, “You can have whatever assumptions you want about me, but don’t try and act like you know anything about me.”

It was another reminder. Joel didn’t know you, but you didn’t know him either. You reign your frustration in slightly, quick to defend yourself but aware that not everyone handles confrontation in the same way—if Joel was quick to anger, you didn’t want to stoke the fire.

“I’m not,” Joel argues, his voice calmer than you expect, thinking back to the saddled rage his voice held the night you arrived, the threat that lingered with every word, “I’m not, alright?”

“Then stop that.” You comment, waving your hand in a vague motion toward his face, “Stop looking at me like—”

“Like what?” Joel interjects, eyes more pensive as he looks over at you.

“Like—like I need a fucking lecture on life or my choices,” You tell him, a hint of pleading in your voice, “I’m not some kid who doesn’t understand how life works.”

“You’re not a kid—”

“Good, great that we established that,” You lean back in the seat more comfortably, arms crossed over your chest as you keep your eyes on the snow covered road, “now shut up so I can enjoy the music.”

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

Conversation falls flat until you arrive at the store in town a while later, Joel fetching a cart and pushing it your way before he stops you suddenly, hand over your own again—a touch that normally you would flinch away from, but he’s already done it once before and the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

“I’ll catch up,” Joel tells you, “I forgot somethin’ in the car.”

You glance back briefly, knowing that the walk isn’t that far.

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

Joel doesn’t say so much, but the look in his eyes goes a long way. A silent plea for you to go with it and don’t ask questions—again, you didn’t have any right to. You nod quickly and wander off toward the store as Joel trails away.

It’s then when your phone starts to vibrate away in your pocket, the sudden availability of service sending a barrage of notifications your way—you’re terrified to take a glimpse, but you do anyway. It should be no surprise to bear witness to the many, many texts from your mother wondering where you’d run off to, but there’s a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

You send her a quick, dismissive text to explain that you were fine and enjoying your time, but no elaboration on the things she wanted to know, because really, there was nothing to tell. And if you did decide to expel the details of your trip, mentioning that there was no boyfriend and it was just a stranger you met in the middle of the woods, well…that wouldn’t go over smoothly.

You also find a quick, heated moment of frustration to send an unpleasant text to the owners of the cabin, still polite enough that it wouldn’t warrant your ability to work things out—and you decide that calling would reach them faster, that somehow they’d magically find a way to appear and fix things, but there’s no answer. Only a voicemail that gave vague details about being away on their own vacation.

Just your luck.

Great. You sigh deeply, shoving the phone away into your pocket and returning to the land of obliviousness as you step inside the small market.

You fend for yourself for a while, throwing several random necessities in the cart as you go, enough sustenance to spread over four weeks and manage meals the entire trip, also a few more bottles of alcohol don’t hurt, looking for a few hard liquors that catch your eye and adding them to the growing supply of items.

You’re lost in concentration of the ingredients on the back of a box dinner when Joel’s voice startles you back to the real world, eyes jumping up to look at him and he spots the panic immediately.

He nods slightly when you recognize him, “Sorry, keep forgettin’ how jumpy you are.”

“You’re just ridiculously fucking quiet,” You tell him, breathing out a long sigh as you toss the box into the cart, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Joel assures, doesn’t elaborate. Okay, cool. You weren’t going to pry, no matter how much your instincts told you to. He scans the cart casually, “Mind tradin’ off?”

You lend him the lead and follow, watching as he pointedly finds things, like he’s reading off a list in his head and moves around the store with a purpose. It’s only slightly annoying that you have to keep pace with him, but he’s suddenly speaking out to you as he’s glancing over something on the bottom shelf, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” You responded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why?”

“Grab some of that fresh rosemary,” Joel says, pointing out somewhere behind you and you whip around, eyes searching furiously and coming up empty, “—find it?”

You’re a little dumbfounded as you search the shelf of fresh herbs, Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching behind you as he reaches over your shoulder and plucks the exact thing he’s looking for with ease, “Hey, I had the right idea.” You defend, noticing how amused he looked at your befuddlement, “And you didn’t answer my question, either.”

“Well,” He tosses the small, plastic package in the cart, still tucked up at your side and you can feel his body heat, the solid wall of his chest against your shoulder, “don’t like the idea of accidentally killin’ you if I cook something you’re allergic to.”

“Well, what if I’m lying?” You challenge and Joel shoves you aside gently to grab the cart, hands on your shoulder as he shifts you away—and when had things gotten so…touchy?

Truthfully, Joel finds it easier than telling you, noting how quickly you quiet down when he asserts himself and does rather than asks. He knows if it made you uncomfortable you wouldn’t have had a problem speaking up immediately.

“Look at me,” And there’s a deep timbre to his voice that has your chest sparking like a fire, eyes connecting with Joel’s for longer than you’ve ever allowed and it’s like he sees right through you, but he’s searching for something, “—you’re not lyin’.”

“But, if I was?”

Joel nearly leaves you in the dust, but turns to look at you with a subtle grin.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

The ride back is easier, much easier—and Joel doesn’t fault you when you fall asleep halfway through, the heat of the car and the low hum of the music like a perfect mix as you curl in on yourself. Joel wakes you with a gentle hand on your shoulder when you finally make it back, allowing you a moment to shake the grogginess away with a word over his shoulder as he opens his door.

“Careful over that patch of ice on your side,” Joel instructs, “gettin’ colder so it’s slicker than it was a couple days ago.”

Careful. You roll your eyes carelessly, nudging the door open with your shoulder and hopping out, boots hitting the hard ground—your first mistake was underestimating the slickness and Joel’s warning, because the moment you take your first step it’s all downhill. Literally.

Luckily though, like a moment of divine faith as you pray that you don’t hit the ground, Joel is right at your back, arms slipping under your own as he plants his feet firmly and catches you. One arm crossing somewhere over your midsection and the other wrapping around your shoulder, a large palm holding you steady as he helps you back to your feet. You can feel him on the brink of making a comment, eyes looking down tenderly into your own—

“Don’t ask.” You warn him bitterly, face scrunched up like a kicked puppy, shrugging him off lazily. Joel doesn’t argue, making sure you’re steady before he allows you himself to fully let go.

Joel shakes his head subtly, a nuisance of his, and rounds the back of the truck to reach for the bagged groceries, “Fine, I’ll just say I told you so then. How’s that?”

Worse.

Joel never asks for help, doesn’t even seem bothered when you stand there aimlessly, watching him stow away the groceries like he already had a game plan and you feel slightly useless, but it does give you a good opportunity to watch without any explicit reason or excuse.

There’s an obvious purpose to Joel’s movement, clear that he’s used to doing a lot of heavy lifting and keeping up, probably prefers organization over clutter, and has a certain inclination to do things himself, always. And you can’t help the way your gaze clings to his face, noticing something a little off—not good or bad, just slightly different. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but with the extended amount of time your eyes lingered on him, you realize he’s cleaned up a bit, shaved his beard down to near stubble, a subtle difference…but you notice.

You’re not sure how long you’re stuck in this state, arms resting against the counter as you stood there, practically useless, thinking about what Joel looks like on a regular basis, when he isn’t cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter. You want to see that side of him, crave it. It’s an insane thought that doesn’t make sense, eyes widening suddenly at the realization of the thought you’re having—

“You still with me?” Joel’s voice calls out in the haze, muffled slightly as you come back into focus, eyes landing on him. “Think I lost you there for a minute.”

“Oh—no. I mean, yeah. I’m still a little tired, I guess.” It’s a bold face lie, but Joel seems to believe you. “Why?”

“I was sayin’ I need to go chop up some wood for the fireplace,” He explains again, “then you went all wide eyed…”

“Oh, okay,” You nod jerkily, “...do you need help?”

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel suggests, “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen.

You try—you do, but the splitting of wood, the strong crack of the axe catching the wood outside of your bedroom window, it isn’t exactly soothing to the ears. So, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen, peeking between the curtains with a wild curiosity that reminds you of when you were younger and trying to catch a peek of the cute boy next door, a bashfulness replaced with a deep, insatiable hunger that you didn’t know existed until this moment.

Joel was attractive, you could easily admit that. But, seeing him now, it’s a done deal. There was a deep pit of despair in your mind and you were stuck at the bottom with no way out.

It’s almost abysmal how easy he makes it look, the axe he’d brandish as his weapon of choice against you swung over his shoulders, the unfortunate lack of skin stretching over taut muscles as he went through the motions, covered up by thick layers. But, you get the idea.

There’s a slight pout forming on your face before you catch yourself.

He slices full power through the wood like it was eager to give way to him. You also find that his face tugs up in a scowl after every swing of the axe, a soft sigh of exerted energy as he tosses the logs to the side and starts up again. You could watch for hours. But, you settle for the few more minutes he spends collecting the wood before you’re scrambling back into your bedroom like you had been there the entire time.

Unfortunately, Joel isn’t oblivious. Still, he spares you the embarrassment.

There was no reason for him to entertain whatever he thought might be going on. He couldn’t.

The next few days are uneventful, though that was to be expected. It allows you time to really settle in, usually curled up on the couch watching the fire crackle away until you thought your eyes might melt away, or reading a book that Joel always seemed to be trying to catch a peek at. There was an innocent curiosity there that you could appreciate.

You also learned that Joel only took his coffee one way, offering up your services to refill his cup while you refilled your own, sugar lingering over the rim and he’s quickly pushing away the small container of crystalized goodness.

“Joel, come on–” You grimace but relent, placing the cylinder of sugar on the counter.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Is all he offers, almost challenging you to take a sip.

You accept, obviously. But, it isn’t without consequence.

The moment the bitterness hits your tongue you’re scrambling away, forcing the mug into Joel’s waiting hands and spitting out whatever putrid liquid remained in your mouth in the sink.

It’s the first time Joel actually laughs, a full on chuckle that isn’t very receptive on your end.

Joel apologizes with dinner that night, a gesture that wasn’t expected or needed, still you’re thankful nonetheless. But, it offers you the realization of just how good a cook Joel can be.

Steaks grilled to a perfection that only came with repetitive practice and learned techniques, vegetables sautéed and seasoned to an enjoyable level, and a side of pasta that if Joel told you he made from scratch, you would’ve believed wholeheartedly if you hadn’t seen him dump the entire box of pre-made pasta into a pot of boiling water.

You’re halfway through dinner, chewing thoughtfully on a bite when you finally break the long, but comfortable silence that had blanketed over you both.

“So, Joel,” There’s a tone to his name that catches his attention, eyes flicking up to meet yours mid-bite, “what do you do for work?”

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

There’s a scrunch to Joel’s nose before he speaks, almost as if he considered feeding you a lie alongside the beautiful meal he’d made. He settles for a simple answer.

“Uh, carpentry.” Joel tells you after a long pause, “I—build stuff for people, businesses sometimes.”

That explains some of his sturdiness, his practiced strength that came from, probably, years of hard constructive work and building. It also explains why he’s also working away at his hands, rubbing out the stiff joints and knuckles.

“I know what carpentry is, Joel.” You deadpan, but there’s a playfulness lingering in your voice.

You assume he’s used to explaining himself often, which is why he forces it on you so easily.

“And you?” Joel asks suddenly, “College? You’re about that age, right?”

You snort softly at the tone he offers, slightly patronizing, but all in good fun.

“I’m taking a semester off,” You answer indifferently, remembering how disappointed your parents had been about the ordeal, but you were suffocating, “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel assures, “can’t fault you either. Never went to college so I don’t have an opinion on it.”

There’s no judgment on your end, but for the sake of conversation, you bite.

“Any reason?” You ask curiously, wondering if you'd receive the similar sentiment that it’s all just bullshit.

“Didn’t have the money,” Joel answers simply, “didn’t have the grades, either. I thought I could start my own business out of carpentry, but…”

But…you lean into the table slightly, hanging on his words.

“You need a lot of money for that,” Joel finishes, “and, I mean, I’m livin’ comfortable now, but that idea took a lot of money that I didn’t and still don’t have.”

“So, you waste it on month long vacations in the middle of the woods,” You surmise humorously, nodding in approval, “can’t say I blame you, either.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, chewing around a bite as he speaks, “Your turn.”

Right. An eye for eye. A question for a question. He's watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give a response to the same question you asked him.

“Oh—I work out of this bookstore in downtown Austin.” You admit, finishing up the last few bites of your food, scraping the plate nearly clean. “It pays the bills and then some. I like it.”

There’s no compliment needed for the food, all the evidence of it gone. But, you feel the need to appreciate it anyways.

“Thanks for this, Joel.” You speak again, softer this time.

“It’s no big deal, darlin’.” Joel assures you, holding up his hands in a feeble defense at the compliment, clearly something he doesn’t welcome easily. “Just food.”

“It’s been...months,” You tell him, “since I’ve had any type of home-cooked meal. Take the damn thank you, Joel.”

He smirks at that, seeing the threatening fork raise before you utter those final words.

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

You force Joel to stay seated while you clean, knowing it was the least you could do after he spent so much time preparing and cooking dinner. There’s a solid few minutes of arguing before you have to physically shove Joel back into his chair despite his protests, hands pressed into his shoulders as you threateningly speak down to him.

“If you move, I’m locking your ass out in the cold.”

Joel wouldn’t mind, but you’re silently hoping that he’ll just listen.

After all is done, tossing the damp washcloth to the side, you sigh with a newfound relaxation.

There’s only one thing that might top off this night, making it almost the first perfect day here.

“That’s it, I’m getting in the hot tub,” You decide, squeezing tenderly at the tense muscles of your neck, thankful that the owners had a small alcove connected to the cabin that allowed for you to enjoy the hot tub from the safety of the cold, “join me?”

You’re not sure what inclines you to ask so openly, but you don’t second guess it.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Joel starts, “I don’t think I brought the proper…attire.”

He’s still seated where you had him planted and it makes you laugh softly at the idea that he was taking it seriously, which—yeah, you did threaten the possibility of hypothermia on him.

“Fine,” You relent, rounding the corner of the island closest to him as you quickly call out over your shoulder, “but, there’s still a couple of chairs in there if you need the company.”

He didn’t need just anyone’s either and didn’t need, so much as wanted.

He wanted your company.

A while later, you’re already waist deep in the hot tub, figure hugging white bikini tied back securely, arms resting against the side furthest from the door as you press your chin against your forearms and staring out the wall of vast windows that line the room, allowing a view of the snow storm outside, coming down in a flurry that seemed to only be gaining in strength—and Joel, well, he’s still sitting in that stupid chair.

He’s allowed himself too much time in his own head, thinking over the events of the past few days. His call to Sarah was pleasant, a much needed moment of peace when he hears his daughter’s bright, hyper voice on the other end. When he doesn’t have her for the holidays, it’s hard. The calls are sparse, the communication is clipped, and it feels like he’s being forced away from her, knowing that she’s growing older every day. That he is growing older.

He’s allowed a lot of his life to slip away, when he wasn’t working to pay bills and put food on the table he was usually drinking, bar-hopping with Tommy at his old age to hide the pain he felt everyday, mentally and physically. There’s a problem brewing under his skin, using the company of his brother and alcohol to cope with loss he feels so viscerally everyday. The life he could’ve had.

He feels pitiful, miserable—only took this damn trip to get out of town by the suggestion of Tommy, away from all distractions, hoping for a refresh to clear his head. But instead, he met you.

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

Joel’s never processed emotions well, feelings or anything thereof.

But, here he was, lusting after you.

He knows it’s the excitement, the taboo idea around sharing something special with a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about you, someone who doesn’t have the leverage to judge. Someone who doesn’t have to know about all the wrongs he’s committed and bad choices he’s made.

You’re not privy to the fucked up version of Joel that belongs in his hometown, cooped up in his childhood home that he inherited from his parents, filled with too many now painful memories that he’d made with Sarah when she was younger—when he still had her.

He can’t help the way his mind races every single second of the day, constantly worrying, always trying to busy himself with something, anything to keep that lingering cloud of anxiety away. But, when he thinks about you, even something so mundane as the way you squint to get a closer look at a paragraph of the book you’ve probably read a thousand times, his mind goes quiet.

Because, frankly, he’s fascinated by the idea of you. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t actually real. He’s halfway leaning toward the idea that he’s had a full mental break and this is all an illusion he’s cooked up in his head, but then he reminds himself that you are just as full a human as himself. There is a reason for this, even if there had to be some other force at play.

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

And that’s why he decides to follow you, the moment he catches a glimpse of you as you turn the corner to take the steps down into the room that connected to the kitchen, a full glimpse of skin and body that he’s tried to keep his mind off of, despite how openly you stare at him.

There has to be something there. He can’t have imagined all of this.

You feel his presence when the creak of wood gives him away, one hand shoved into his front pocket and his other arm helping him stay upright as he leaned against the doorframe. The steam billows and settles like a cloud over the bubbling hot tub but does nothing to hide how see-through your bathing top is and the slick slope of your breasts, his eyes trailing down toward the small bow that was sewn to the midpoint of your top and know he’s staring at your chest, very openly—Joel’s immediately regretting his choice.

Your eyes follow his but you dare not speak, afraid to startle him.

Now who was the jumpy one?

“Change your mind?” You ask curiously, shimming the expanse of the hot tub as you grab onto the opposite ledge, resuming your previous position, closer to Joel now. If you reached out you could touch the edge of his flannel and soak the trim, maybe even pull him closer, but you resist the urge. “It feels amazing. I’m serious.”

It wasn’t a ploy to get him in, but it wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t respond, eyes staring at the soft wave of the water as it hits your side, his posture rigid.

Maybe you’d broken him.

“Joel,” You call out with a soft nudge to his thigh, as far as you could reach with your fingertips, cutting into his line of sight, offering a friendly smile, “just strip down to your underwear and get in.”

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake.

“You wouldn’t have come over here if you weren’t at least thinking about enjoying the benefits of the hot tub,” You argue, “so stop being grumpy and strip. I won’t even look.”

It shouldn’t sound as gritty as it does, a playful venom in your tone as you sink back slightly.

It makes Joel feel like he’s back in high school, flirting with who would eventually be his ex-wife and mother of his daughter, but there’s an assertiveness that intrigues Joel, your willingness to put yourself out there without fear. Take a leap, a jump, and hope that someone will catch you.

Joel caught you, he just needed someone to catch him.

You spot his fidgeting, the wheels and cogs in his mind turning and he just needs that shove.

Just enough.

You rise over the edge, palms pressed flat to bear your weight and squeeze your breasts together, belly button nearly level with the water as you’re close enough to see the fine details of his face, giving him a look that Joel couldn’t deny.

“Get. In.” You stress the words, making direct eye contact. “You can thank me later.”

Finally, he moves.

You sink back slightly into the pool and wade the water until you hit a corner, watching briefly as Joel works away at the buttons on his flannel, quiet air filling with an unspoken tension. You try to busy yourself with the view outside, something that didn’t require you to look in the vicinity of Joel for a second, knowing that the moment felt more intimate than it needed to. But, it doesn’t stop that sparse glances over your shoulder to check on him, now barefoot and pulling his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pulling and obscuring your view of his face and his view of you, staring so starkly at him in that moment.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. The freckles that speckle his shoulders, nearly invisible from this distance because of his tanned shoulders and the unevenness of the tan as it continues down his arm, varying in shades of intensity, undoubtedly from hours of working in the sun. There’s also a smaller patch of hair on his chest that with his short cropped beard, seems to be trimmed down too. His strong build doesn’t throw you off, though—solid muscle that flexed across his stomach as he yanked his shirt a little harder to get it over his head fully, not built in a way that rippled down his abdomen, but showed a sturdiness to his figure that had your body humming to a tune that reached down to your core, thighs squeezing together under the water.

Joel passes the shirt off into a waiting arm chair, clothes slowly piling on the cushion alongside your towel and he pops the button on his jeans, still unaware of your…innocent observation. But, the moment the jeans stretch over his thighs you swallow a little too hard and you’re immediately averting your eyes when he looks up briefly.

Like you’d been caught.

Joel clears his throat like a warning, as if he hadn’t felt your eyes on him the entire time, and swings a leg over carefully, a view of the black briefs that molded to his skin perfectly and hugged his backside in a way that feels criminally illegal…and you’re staring again.

He hisses at the sudden change in temperate, but inch by inch he lowers and adjusts, eventually huffing out a low groan, eyes closed, when he finally settles on the seat inside of the tub.

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

“See?” You break the revered silence for him, “Worth it?”

“Almost forgot how you just bullied me in here.” He jokes—full on fuckin’ jokes before cracking an eye open to catch your reaction, a subtle look of disbelief on your face. “I’m kidding, darlin'.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the seat under the water and you smile, a half-hearted roll of your eyes thrown his way before you relax too, for a moment.

“This is so weird,” You speak softly, after a while, and Joel looks slightly puzzled as he opens his eyes fully now, perking up slightly as he adjusts himself, chest rising over the water slightly, his arms hanging over the ledge with his fingers gripping the ceramic—and you’re gaze is drifting again, mostly to his hands, but you mask it as you look away briefly, down the hall or out the window. Literally anywhere but Joel, “it’s just—not how I expected things to go.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Joel replies with an underlying amusement.

As the quiet settles, slowly drifting closer to one side, where you originally were when Joel came searching for you—voluntarily, he lingered and waited, waited for the push you gave him—Joel joined alongside you, burrowing himself in the closet corner nook and enjoying the view in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel comments, “everything alright?”

Everything was fine and you couldn’t make complete sense out of it. The ability to be so inherently comfortable with someone you’ve only known for a little under a week, the attraction you felt despite your own rational thinking telling you otherwise, the urge to connect openly and without fear of judgment. It terrifies you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask quietly, “Like…a real question, not those superficial ones that we’ve thrown at each other.”

Joel doesn’t like the sound of it, but there’s also the inclination that he could feed you a total lie and you wouldn’t have any idea otherwise.

He nods, fist resting against his cheek as he turns to look at you and suddenly the pressure is on, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden, full attention.

“Earlier…you said you forgot somethin’ in the car,” Joel’s fist clenches unknowingly under the water, an instinct to bury his reaction, “I know it isn’t my business, but I was just curious what is was.”

Joel, against every fiber in his being that tells him to deflect, gives you a straight answer. It’s almost startling how easily it comes out, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest that he’s carried for years.

“I had to make a call,” Joel admits, “to uh—my daughter, she’s back home with her mom.”

Your brow pulls together in confusion, “Wait, are you married?”

Joel somehow amidst the heaviness of admitting his truth still laughs, quick to defend himself from your next question.

“Oh, not at all. Never, actually.” Joel responds, “We…I never married her mom, it was obvious pretty quickly we weren’t going to work well together.”

The answer is simpler than you expect, different too. Part of you wondered if he was pleading his own case to the owners and was just as unsuccessful as you, but this is much more vulnerable.

And despite your ability to lie, and his own, neither of you can force it.

You don’t pry further, feeling like it may push things too far. Too personal.

“Okay, your turn.”

“Do I scare you?” Joel asks suddenly, almost like he’s been anticipating the moment too.

You’re almost sure the expression you return makes you look insane, feeling the implication that he might, that he thinks—it’s so far left field that it throws you off.

“No—no,” You quickly reject any lingering doubt he has, “I mean…the first night, maybe. But, now…no.”

“Oh.” It’s all Joel can muster, unsure of why he was expecting a different answer. That you would say yes and whatever shroud of thought he had about this moment you were sharing was only out of fear, that you were just trying to be polite.

“Look, I get jumpy because you sneak up on me,” You answer, “and you have this…presence about you,” Okay, not the best wording, “not scary or anything, just…strong.” Big, like a wall. Like, if anyone were to ever approach you wrongly, Joel would attack without question. And maybe the fact that he would do that should scare you, but instead, it entices you.

Joel sits with the implication, burdened by his own mind.

You can see him lost in thought, speaking with a comforting surety, “Thank you…for telling me.”

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

The next stretch of time, what feels like an hour, is spent in a comforting silence. You think Joel is nearly falling asleep but then he moves, make a comment about how the snow won’t let up and eventually you’re forcing yourself out of the hot tub, reaching over the side to snatch your towel and sending all of Joel’s clothes descending to the floor in the process and as if you had a death wish on Joel, your ass pops up at an angle that is physically impossible to look away from.

Joel is a gentleman, he swears. He was raised to respect and care and always put women first, but there’s a split second where he can’t pull his eyes away, feels like he’s just caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have, but then you’re turning your head over your shoulder and you definitely catch him—you could ruin the moment and say something or you could ignore it.

Fortunately, you save Joel some embarrassment, covering it with a sly smile as you apologize for dropping his clothes and take the final step out and wrap the towel around your body.

“Shit,” You quickly realize that in the midst of your pushing Joel to join you that he didn’t have a towel, “stay here—I’ll go grab you a towel.”

Joel wasn’t eager to move anyways, admittedly. Sporting half a hard-on under the water, he wouldn’t subject himself to the scrutiny of your gaze or what implications it would make, thinking every horrible possible thought to will it away—luckily your timing is perfect.

You quickly gather his dropped clothes and pile them in the chair as you toss the towel his way, ignoring any and all chances to glimpse at his wet body, back turned as you quickly excuse yourself away in fear of the idea that you might say something unforgettably stupid.

The walk to your separate bedroom is quick, swift, like a desperately needed escape.

But, as fate would have it, the moment you open the door and wretch the towel away from your body there’s a loud pop! to your left and a spark on the outside that has you halfway on the floor and slamming into the wall out of both shock and an attempt to shield yourself from whatever unseen force was at play, yelping out loud in the process.

From an outside perspective, you can understand why Joel doesn’t hesitate to come running.

He runs straight into your back, bare chest pressed against your know bare shoulders and leaving you half-dressed in front of him, scared out of your wits and willing to grab onto whatever was nearby to keep you upright—fortunately, Joel’s arm is the perfect anchor as your hand wraps around his wrist and squeezes.

“What the hell?” Joel inquires, slightly out of breath as he searches your face for any signs of injury, “What happened?”

You both look at the culprit—the heated window unit that was no longer expelling heat, and while the cabin was still heated, it didn’t reach the bedrooms well enough that you weren’t shivering without some type of additional help. You sigh in frustration, eyes turning up towards the ceiling as you feel no shame, too frustrated to care as you lean into Joel’s chest.

“Shit.” It’s all Joel offers as a solution, not that you were expecting one. But, still, it would be nice.

“Yeah, shit.” You echo, pushing away from him suddenly to gather your damp towel and a change of clothes, padding your bare feet toward the living room, but Joel is grabbing your wrist before you get too far from him.

“Hey, woah,” He starts in a calmer tone, “you can take my room—I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see if I can get ahold of the owners, we’ll figure something out.”

“I already tried calling them,” You admit, “Earlier. Straight to voicemail and something tells me they won’t be answering their phones until after the holidays.”

Pulling away again, you continue your way toward the living room and gather a few pillows and blankets, tossing them on the larger couch beside the fireplace. Joel doesn’t seem to entertain the idea, following on your heels as he gathers each item you throw in that direction and you finally reach a point of full, unrestrained frustration.

“Joel, cut the shit.”

“Take the room,” He offers as a counter, “I can sleep on the couch.”

With his back? Not a chance. But, he offers anyway.

“Fuck off,” You chuckle bitterly, “I’m not forcing you out of the bedroom.”

“Then it looks like we’re sharin’ the living room.”

You close your eyes, toss the blanket aside and breathe, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to not completely lose it on the man standing opposite of you.

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

“I’ll take the bed.” You quickly agree, but there’s a lingering ultimatum.

Joel waits, sees the thought brewing behind your pensive eyes.

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

“No,” You interject, putting your figurative foot down, suddenly vividly reminded of your vulnerability as you stood there, still slightly damp and in a swimsuit that did nothing to cover your body—it was the reason Joel’s eyes were so pointedly stuck on your face, never lingering elsewhere, “either we both sleep in here on the couch or we share the bed.”

Joel’s hands shift to his hips, towel tight around his waist and you’re too annoyed to admire the way his muscles tense and flex with the movement, the underlying thickening desire settling beneath the surface.

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

“Anyone ever told you you’re damn stubborn?” Joel asks, trailing behind you as you enter his bedroom, a clone of your own but with a small bathroom attached.

“All the time.” You answer truthfully. “I’m going to shower and sleep—no funny business.”

Meaning if Joel did sneak away into the living room to offer up the full amenities of his own room, he would feel your wrath tenfold.

Joel resigns to the idea and gathers his own pair of fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall, leaving you both to a moment of levity.

There’s no anticipation to the arrangement—but the idea is there, burrowing into the back of your mind.

You’re sleeping with a stranger…someone you knew little to nothing about, but it was your choice. And you trusted your gut.

Joel was safe, he was good.

You relax under the spray of hot water, a different heat to the one you enjoyed just a while ago, the type that allowed your thoughts to roam, and you laugh softly at the sight of Joel’s shower supplies, knowing he was stuck with whatever you brought—it wasn’t something you thought about in the moment, but there’s a brief realization that he was sharing a moment similar to your own, scowling at the sight of your fruity scented body wash that you left on the shelf there. It wasn’t a huge deal, Joel wouldn’t fuss over it.

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

As if his bare chest wasn’t already at the forefront, and his eyes as they had stared at you so unabashed until the moment he was caught, all innocent looks with deeper intentions that invaded your mind like a plague.

You were so fucking frustrated—annoyed with him, the state of your life, this stupid vacation. With the suds gone and the water drowning out the silence you allow yourself one—just one moment of selfishness...

And as if the house was the biggest tattletale of them all, the floor creaks on the other side of the door.

“Joel?” You call out curiously, as if an intruder in the middle of nowhere was even likely.

There’s several seconds of silence before Joel finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Your body wash sucks.” You goad lightly, hoping to ease the earlier frustration that had grown between you both, and while you can’t see him, you can hear his laughter on the other side of the door.

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

You smile to yourself, the way he responds with fondness that he tries to hide.

When you finish up and dress, peeking your head out before you move to open the door fully, Joel is already on his side, turned away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be bothered. The small blanket of division rolled and wedged in the center of the bed like a barrier, a warning.

Keep your distance and you both may manage to survive the rest of this vacation.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedrostories #MMITW #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x fem!reader #my writing #let's just pretend ellie isn't in that gif lmao

401 notes · View notes

http-tokki · 7 months

Text

need to know

~ choso kamo x fem!reader (tattoo artist choso au) ~tags/cw: tattoo artist choso, fem reader, tattoo artist au, tattoos, needles, satosugu is canon, modern au, choso has a scar over his nose instead of his markings, strangers to friend to lovers (strangers rn) tiny lil man verbal bashing cause men are weak lil babies when getting tattoos, reader is a lil chubby, choso is on antidepressants, smoking/vaping, drinking ~ wc: 2.9k ~ "Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?"

You: Wednesday 8:45pm Hi, I was just wondering if your books were still open? It says they are in your bio but in case I've missed it and they're closed, please ignore this message, sorry! :)

Kamo: Wednesday 9:23pm Hey. No, they are still open. When were you looking to book? Do you have a specific design? Or are you looking for a flash?

You: Thursday 11:36am Oh, hi, awesome! Thank you for getting back to me so quickly! I was looking to book next month, towards the end. On a weekend if that would be possible (I don't mind the time), and for the design, just a flash (design 3A) on your latest post on my upper arm, around 15-20cm. :)

You: Thursday 11:52pm Unless you think it should be smaller or somewhere else, I'm not picky! I really want something of yours tattooed on me :)

Kamo: Thursday 12:15pm Sure, no problem! I have the 24th free at 12pm. Does that work for you? The spot and size are fine, but I'll make up smaller and bigger stencils on the day in case you change your mind. The total would be $600 for the piece. However, I require a $100 deposit to secure your spot. I can send you the payment details once you confirm your interest. Please read through my FAQs on cancellation policies and further information.

You: Thursday 12:20pm 24th at 12pm is perfect! Thank you!! I'll send a deposit through now! Ahh, so excited! :)

Kamo: Thursday 1:07pm You're welcome. Here is the link x. Please send a screenshot of your payment as proof. For the rest of the amount, I accept cash only. If you have any other questions, feel free to message me. See you on the 24th.

You: Thursday 3:30pm Sending it now! Yay! Thank you so much! Super excited, see you! :)

Kamo: Thursday 4:35 pm Seen

"I sound like an idiot, don't I?" you grumble as your friend reads over your chat with a tattoo artist.

You watch your friend tilt their glasses down, squinting at the screen as their mouth curls into a grimace. They try to hide it with a sniffle, disguising their obvious disgust over your intense enthusiasm.

"Not an idiot," they hand the phone back to you, a frown set in the crooked way it always did when they were uncomfortable. "Just really, really eager, which can be cute if you like that."

Choso is growing tired.

At what? There are too many contributing factors to the headache that had begun blooming his eyes five minutes after stepping into the studio to pinpoint the main culprit of his budding exhaustion. Maybe it was the late night/early morning combo, or perhaps it was the horrific lack of water and food he hadn't consumed in the last twenty-four hours. When was the last time he had taken his medication? Choso begins to run through the previous days in an attempt to remember when he had even glanced at the Zoloft sheet sitting in the bottom drawer of his trolley, but his attention is diverted from his lack of self-care to the man sitting in his tattoo chair.

It is coming up on the two-hour mark since his client walked in. With a brazen attitude that could rival a Greek god, the man had outlined what had to be the simplest fucking tattoo known to man. Choso had rolled his eyes at the frankly impressive and thorough drawing done by the twenty-something gym bro before shifting the paper off to his younger brother.

"Come on, it's easy! An hour tops, and then you've got like two fifty in your hand! You technically owe me an observation session, and this can be it." Yuji had gripped his brother's sleeve, tugging on it the way he used to when they were kids.

Taking in his younger half-brother as his apprentice was a good idea in theory. The two lived and worked together, so there was ample time for obvs and practice, but today was already busy, and Choso was feeling like complete and utter shit.

"Yuji, I don't want to do this. I have a client coming in at twelve for a full session, and I've got this headache and-"

"It's easy money, come on! Please." it technically was easy money. The design was a small band wrapped around the bicep, with no adornments or script, just a flat black line; it was the client himself that made Choso apprehensive.

"Fine." Choso sighed, and Yuji almost jumped into the air in excitement. "You prep and clean him; I'm not doing anything but the actual tattoo."

Yuji nodded eagerly and just about ran into the front room to confirm the walk-in appointment.

That was almost two hours ago, and Choso is still here, finishing up the outlines of the band on a guy twice his size but carrying on like a toddler. Each touch of the needle on skin had the man flinching and hissing through his teeth, and there is only so much Choso could take.

Choso eyes the clock nervously, his next appointment slot ticking closer but the second. There isn't going to be enough time to get out and grab a coffee or snack from the corner store. After another quick glance at the amount of work before him, Choso calls it fifteen minutes to twelve and clicks off the tattoo gun with a disappointed sigh.

"Hey, I'm sorry, but we might have to split this into two sessions."

He looks back over at this current client, who is sweating profusely. It takes everything in him to scowl in disgust at the once brazen man before him, but not the look on his client's face; Choso knows some form of repugnance had slipped through his composure.

"Yeah, sure, man, no sweat," the client replies, relief blatant in his sigh. "Sorry for taking so many breaks. I've got a weak pain tolerance."

That makes Choso feel a little bad.

"You're fine. I've just got a pre-booked client coming in like ten and need to set up." A little lie to hurry the man up.

Hope is so close. So attainable that Choso can almost feel the sun on his face, but the shop bells slice through any dream of a break.

"Hi, I'm here for my twelve with Kamo?"

Choso slouches, attention now on the conversation happening in the front room. It's not even twelve yet! Why would she be here so early?

"Yep! We've got you down for twelve, but Choso's still with someone, so if you wanna wait here, that's okay!" Yuji giggles in response.

"Ohh, I'm just here to ask if umm…Choso wanted a coffee or anything?" his name is a question on her tongue. "I'm going to go get one and wanted to ask if anyone wanted anything so you don't have to wait in line."

That's nice. Choso thinks and leans back on his chair, attempting to glimpse his new client, who has Yuji giggling at every word.

"I was just about to step out to get coffee so I can come with you, but I can get Cho's; you don't need to pay for him." Another giggle. God, his younger brother is shameless.

"That's okay! I can get them; just write your orders down so I don't forget!" the girl insists.

"Ohh, but-"disappointment fills Yuji's voice.

"Yuji, can you come here please!" Choso shouts down the hall, pulling his brother away from his new crush.

Yuji groans, then the shop bells ring again, and then the sound of footsteps shuffles down the hall.

"Yes?"

"Can you wrap him up and finish the payment? I need a smoke." Choso rolled back from the bed, handing over the second skin he has yet to unwrap.

Choso's brother sighs but offers the male client a friendly smile, sits down in the now vacant rollaway stool, and begins to prep the skin for wrap-up.

"I'll be back in five; if anyone needs me, tell them to wait." Choso grumbles the last part and offers a stiff wave to his current client before disappearing into the hall.

The knots in Choso's shoulder have been building for days now, and no amount of rolling or stretching seems to relieve the tension in his muscles, but it is nice to stretch and feel the blood move around him again. Heavy boots echo through the small shop as he stalks to the front desk, floorboards creaking under the weight of thick rubber soles. His fingers slip into his back pocket to reach for the small pack of menthols hastily shoved down after the abrupt end of his morning break.

Stepping out into the world, Choso is blinded by the sun. Having forgotten about the passage of time while being stuck indoors all day, he now stands stunned in the small alcove of the shop's entrance. The sun nears the centre of the sky, beating down the world in a heat never seen before. It wasn't even the beginning of summer, and the sweltering days were breaking temperature records. Choso shields his eyes with a hand, and even then, his vision is blurred as his retinas adjust.

The street is quiet; an abnormal silence had fallen over the usually busy road, but with the rising blistering temps, he suspects people aren't willing to brave the heat to shop or eat. Choso finds the familiar recess in the wall, a door had been there years ago but has long since been boarded up and now acts as refuge for him and his brother. Through any weather, time of day or season, the small alcove is a sanctuary for tired and burnt-out artists needing a second away from the constant buzz of tattoo guns.

Choso scans the few open cafes and bars for his mystery client. Mainly office workers on lunch break and mothers with strollers waiting for the afternoon pick up; he can't see anyone that fits the image he had concocted in his mind on the short walk over until he spots a girl standing in line across the way. The tattoos that adorn her legs are what Choso notices first. Patchwork pieces from different artists in black and white with pops of colour here and there, but for the most part are monochromatic, all spaced far enough to be their own pieces but not so much that they seem gap-y. He is impressed at the choice, knowing that when getting patchwork pieces, they are usually slapped in any available location, but from what he can see, every piece flowed into each other and told a story against her skin. Her arms are equally as covered, though with more room, and he is eager to see the works up close. A flash of pink catches his attention, and he narrows his attention on the pink My Melody backpack that she swings at her side, pink wallet clutched in her free hand as she shifts her weight from her toes to her heels. Choso smirks at the bag and finds himself willing her to turn so he can see the face of the girl who we had been staring at for the past five minutes.

He is staring and he needs to stop before he gets caught. Shifting his attention from the random woman, he fishes out his phone and focuses on the seemingly endless DMs and texts stacked on the lock screen. Sometimes, he wonders if he really should have gone into a career where his livelihood relied on communicating with strangers. With expert precision and one hand, he pulls a cigarette from the crumpled packet and slips the filter between his teeth. Biting down the filter, the taste of menthol fills his mouth, and relief floods his veins before settling in the deep groves of his brain. The cigarette isn't even lit yet, but his nervous system knows that the taste of mint will soon be followed by nicotine, and all will be well for a few minutes. Breaking the habit of smoking has been on Choso's New Year's resolution lists for the past three years, but he only ever lasts a few weeks before turning back to the comfort of those overpriced joints. Maybe next year will be the year. Choso digs through his pockets, fingers grasping for the lighter he keeps in his right pant pocket, but there is nothing. Maybe the other side? Still nothing. Third pocket? Fourth pocket? Nada. Zilch. Zero. Fuck.

There isn't enough time to go back inside to search for matches, and he had already popped the filter and doesn't want to waste the smoke, but it would get gross sitting in the packet- his headache grew.

"Choso?" a soft voice asks from above.

Choso looks up from his lap and is greeted by the most stunning woman he has ever seen. Breathing is no longer automatic as he stares at you, and when his lungs start to contract almost painfully, he realises and takes in an all too obvious breath.

It wasn't fair to look like that. With the sun illuminating your silhouette, cradling you in an angelic aura that has Choso debating on whether he should get on his knees and pray to you, but too much time has passed since you spoke and he acknowledged you that he has to say something, but all he can manage is a muffled yeah?

"I'm your twelve, but you look like you need a light?" you hold out a bright pink light between pretty pink manicured fingers.

Choso offers a tight-lipped smile to prevent the cigarette from falling from his mouth and takes the lighter, flicking it to life. "Thanks, I owe ya."

He holds the flame to the tobacco, and only when it glows bright does he pull the disposable away.

"It didn't cost me anything, so nothing to owe."

There is a beat of silence as you throw the light back into your bag before bending down to pick up the coffee you had set at your feet. "Also, a coffee." another offer towards him.

"The guy at the desk gave me your order, and I always buy my artists something before a session. I'm not hitting on you."

Your admission of this not being a move stirs something in him. Choso accepts the cold cup with a soft thank you, angling his hand away from yours, careful not to burn you with the lit smoke.

"I'll meet you inside. Give you a moment to yourself." you nod towards the door of the studio, feet already turning to start walking towards the entrance.

He watches you walk away, a smile creeping on his face despite not knowing why. You're as cute from the front as you are from the back, and he's glad the girl he had seen in the coffee shop is you. Soft curves make up your figure, dipping at your waist before filling out again over your bust. Choso feels his stomach twist in that familiar feeling, but he can't think of you like that; you're a client and nothing more. There is a mesmerising way in which you walk that has Choso unable to look away, and even when you've stepped into the studio, his gaze lingers on the empty space you once stood in until the rancid taste of burnt filter fills his mouth. Never in his life has he been as thankful for coffee as he is in that moment when burnt paper fills his senses. Taking a big gulp of the sweet but still bitter drink, it takes everything in him not to spit in the street, but he was raised better than that and will wait until he is in the small bathroom to spit up the gross contents.

When Choso returns, you are sitting on the small couch in the waiting room, filling out consent forms. Head down as you read the number of your ID and scribe it down in the open line; he walks past you, suddenly horrified by his heavy choice of shoe. The thick thud of the rubber soles on the hardwood has you lifting your head and smiling at your artist. Choso feels his stomach flip.

"So," Choso starts, but the smoke still in his throat chokes the word. He clears his throat and restarts his sentence. "So, do you smoke, or do you just carry the lighter?"

"My best friend smokes, so I just carry it 'cause you never know when you're gonna need a light." Your laugh is contained, almost forced, as if the interaction you are having is uncomfortable for you. Had he done something wrong?

"Ohh." Is his only reply as you return to the balanced folder on your lap.

Another moment of silence before Choso steps towards the hall. "I'll let Yuji check you in, and then just come in when you're ready." Had he already made you that uncomfortable in the two minutes you had spoken outside? Choso takes a deep breath as he steps into his space and suddenly wishes the whiney baby was the one getting tattooed.

You: Saturday 12:05pm Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:06pm suck his dick? ik guys like that :P

You: Saturday 12:06pm Idk what I expected from you. I need actual advice, please Saturo. U owe me!

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:07pm ooh first name, you're kinda scary. Okay, here is what you do. You act like a normal human and then flirt a lil and suss out if he's into it and then ask him out to drinks?

You: Saturday 12:08pm That works if I KNEW HOW TO FLIRT. Ugh im screwed, he's so fine fuck

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:09pm eww, you're getting ur jizz all over the screen. just breathe and be normal okay, pretend he's me.

You: Saturday 12:10pm Ignoring the first comment. Im gonna sneak a pic and show u BRO YOU NEED TO SEE HIM

Number ONE best friend: 12:10pm creepy but okeeeeyyy. Sugu also says to breathe and be normal but to ignore anything you think I would do

You: Saturday 12:11pm Thanks, Suguru, please kill him for me, ill talk to u guys in a bit

Number ONE best friend: good luck bestie 8======D

a/n: okay so there is going to be a part two but I'm not sure when, please give me feedback if you want it or want me to stop, put the laptop down and go outside lmao lil texting format, lemme know how y'all feel about that

439 notes · View notes

ros3ybabe · 1 month

Text

🎀 Overcoming Gym Anxiety 🎀

I got asked about this through my inbox by @sxfiaaa so I figured I'd make a post about it and hopefully help a lot of people with something I too used to struggle with!

🩷 Wear Comfortable Clothing

We've all seen the beautifully dressed people on Tiktok, Pinterest, etc in their matching sets and cutr gym clothes. If that is what you're comfortable wearing to the gym, do it! Wear it, and be confident in it! If you're more of a loose clothes/sweatpants/baggy shirts or hoodie type of person, do that! Wear whatever you feel comfortable (and cute) in, because the better you feel going into a workout, the more you'll be able to focus on your workout!

🩷 Know What You're Doing When You're There

This just means go in with a plan! You don't need to know how to use every single machine or do every single exercise known to mankind. Scroll tiktok or pinterest for some workout videos for inspo (please make sure the video you get inspo from shows proper form!!! Proper form is so important for being safe!!)

If you know you can go certain days of the week, make a workout split to follow that! EX 3 day split: Monday - Leg Day, Wednesday - Upper Body, Friday - Full Body

OR, if you just want to go do cardio, then plan for that! I didn't know how to use a treadmill, but I went to the gym at my university and stood on the treadmill til I figured it out!

🩷 Remember This

No one is going to look at you and judge you or think mean things about you. Everyone is at the gym for the purpose of bettering themselves and their health. If you find people giving you occasional glances, maybe it's because they don't recognize you from the gym (or they do recognize you from somewhere else), maybe their admiring your outfit/physique, maybe their avid gym goers who are watching your form and technique, or maybe their just zoned out and you happen to be in the line of sight.

When I'm at the gym, I look around between sets and take note on other people's form to see if maybe I should tweak the way I do a certain exercise, or I'm admiring another girls outfit or physique because there are a lot of beautiful women at the gym. Sometimes, I'm thinking "dang, they're lifting so heavy, how cool!" or "wow, their form is amazing, they really know what they're doing." I've never thought bad abut someone at the gym because why would I?

🩷 Don't Be Scared To Ask For Help

if there an exercise you really want to do but don't know how and videos aren't helping, ask someone around you who isn't in the middle of an exercise and looks like they may know. The guy at the gym doing upper body who has good biceps may be the right guy to ask about upper body exercises. The girl doing impeccable Bulgarian Split Squats might be the right person to ask for help with those types of movements. Just make sure they aren't in the middle of an exercise, because that can cause some unwanted issues, especially if they're mid-rep, that can turn into a safety issue.

People love to help people, especially at the gym. If you politely ask for help from someone, they may take it as a compliment that you think they look like a person who is knowledgeable on working out. I'd definitely be so flattered if someone asked me for help or advice at the gym!

🩷 Random Advice:

remember your why! no matter how anxious you are, remember why you're going! what are your goals, what do you hope to achieve, how proud will you feel after?

start small if you have to! if it's really anxiety inducing to start working out, make it your first goal to at least step into the gym. then 2nd goal, walk around the gym to get a feel for it. 3rd goal, maybe 5-10 minutes on a treadmill, and then keep building momentum each day.

be careful with the hours you go! there is such a thing as peak gym hours. It varies by place, but a lot of gyms are busy between 2pm and 6pm I've seen. I personally love going to the gym super early morning, it's a little less busy and I'm a morning person so it works out for me! If you can only go during peak hours, bring a friend or keep your headphones on and do your thing!

Bring a friend! If you're really anxious about going alone, bring a friend with similar goals! Sometimes it can be a lot nicer to learn something new with a friend then try and learn it on your own! Plus, it's like extra motivation and accountability!

Have a motivating pre workout routine. Play some music while getting ready, prep your bags, prep your playlist, get your workout itself figured out, and just keep yourself excited to go! I love blasting high-energy music that makes me feel like a baddie on my way to the gym.

I hope this was helpful!! My thoughts were everywhere but I tried to convey them as best as possible! I'm happy to answer any questions or offer more tips and advice, don't feel scared to ask! <3

til next time lovelies 🩷

344 notes · View notes

ofswordsandpens · 5 months

Note

just finished episode 6…. truly don’t know how to feel about these changes. would love to know your thoughts bc i’m just kinda baffled by some changes tbh

Mixed feelings as always:

Percy's dream slapped. I loved Kronos's actor. It felt perfectly eery. No notes.

No percabeth late night convo on the truck. This doesn't surprise me given we sort of did that on the train already, but now there's just another iconic book moment that we'll get bits and pieces of, but never actually get to see in its entirety/original setting.

I did vibe with the glass prism tool for the iris message and it was pretty cool. The Percy + Annabeth argument was great but I'm gonna be honest, Luke being like "you're arguing like an old married couple" was laying it on a tad thick to me idk idk. I know I'll probably be in the minority there lol but I think it would have liked the line better if Percy and Annabeth got more embarrassed to his statement but they both reacted to it like :/ so it just felt heavy handed on the show runners part more than anything

Lotus Hotel vibes? Lackluster. Uninspired. It just didn't capture that outrageous paradise for kids feeling from the book because they turned it into Hermes' hangout so there's a whole bunch more adults than kids. Basically felt like if you took the movie's version and turned down the energy of it by a mile lmao. (Which is also ironic given RR's post about it today).

And of course the kids immediately know what's happening so like. No fun mystery. No Percy figuring it out. Just them being like "omg we need to be careful" and then immediately separating from Grover lmao.

Okay. LMM's Hermes.... it wasn't bad. Thankfully there was no singing. He was fine. It's more or less that turning the Lotus story line into a Hermes' storyline was like an "okay, I guess we're doing this" thing. I mean I guess we finally introduced something for the non-book reader's to pick up on that Luke might not have the best relationship with his dad (and consequently the gods). But like, nothing about this storyline is something that isn't introduced later on in the books. Nor was it better or more interesting than the original lotus storyline in the books.

Again, its the constant replacement of everything fun and silly and absurd in the book and turning it into a very serious moment, is just like, killing the energy. Seriousness is good. Silliness is also good. The book balanced it greatly. The show struggles here.

Glad we got a Pan mention tho!! Finally!

But um 4 pearls, so no dilemma about who to save. A part of me is relieved because the show's created like 3 other sacrifice convo scenarios so its gotten bit reductive, but Sally being a part of the equation is an entirely different dynamic and now that dilemma is theoretically gone. (unless he loses one of the pearls?)

And Percy's missed the deadline?? Right?? So like? I really don't know what we're doing anymore. In the book the deadline was pretty strict lol. Here I guess the deadline was like, a loose suggestion? Percy's walking into the middle of the god's battle field with master bolt in his hand? Idk.

Overall things in the show feel messy and way less cohesive. They seem to know that certain things from the book are important but not necessarily why, or they'll introduce events or plot points strangely late or way too early.

#to summarize: always ending the episodes now with this :/ expression on my face #pjo show crit #there's more but just #yeah

290 notes · View notes

galedekarios · 4 months

Note

Hello, big fan of your Gale content um I just saw this post on X that really annoyed me that was a graphic saying Gale would use 3 in 1 shampoo implying he is lazy with his hygiene and that another character was more like that and it had like 6k likes and I just wonder why everyone mischaracterizes our best wizard so much? Generic male expectations? Justice for Gale. He deserved that lavender bath.

thank you for your message and kind words! 🖤

i haven't seen the post you're referring to so i can't say too much about it, but if we talk about the general concept of hygiene and personal care, in my heart i know the following truth:

gale loves his little indulgences and that includes the finer things in life, like taking long baths, perfumes, massages, and the like.

once he feels better again and has the spoons to fully appreciate it, he would have a ridiculously elaborate 13 step self-care routine, beard oils and all of that.

(we know his year of isolation likely led to him neglecting himself, given tara's repeated lines about not eating enough, as well as gale letting his beard growing out.)

in early access, he had this dialogue with the protag, about dreaming of a nice lavender scented bath:

Gale: Time is a precious gift. With time, we may even reach Baldur's Gate, a city rife with magic, wizards, scholars, and perhaps: solutions. Player: In that case I share your optimism. Here's to the journey ahead. Gale: And here's to your company. Gale: Oh, I can picture it now: academies, libraries, laboratories – the assembled knowledge of centuries that may just set us free. Better yet: soft beds, home cooked meals, and all the other little luxuries this wilderness so brashly denies us. Gods, I'd pay a king's ransom for a hot, lavender-scented bath – minstrels serenading as I close my eyes and let the water's warmth dissolve all woes. Plenty to look forward to.

this was sadly cut.

i also seem to recall another line of dialogue in early access where a companion commented on gale using a waterdhavian scent/perfume, which had woody undertones. if i can find it, i'll be sure to post about it.

but still, he still has similar lines in the full release version, like in this banter with shadowheart:

Gale: I must tell you, Shadowheart, the bathing waters here leave much to be desired. devnote: A bit know it all Gale: The ablutions offered at the Temple of Beauty in Waterdeep are far superior. And they have the most excellent soaps. devnote: A bit know it all Shadowheart: Hmm. I was wondering why you always smelled like a wealthy dowager. devnote: Teasing

bathing waters, excellent soaps and ablutions at the temple of beauty in waterdeep. the temple of beauty is a temple to the goddess sune, the goddess of beauty and passion.

"Her temples usually held social salons and displayed mirrors for use by lay parishioners. Some of them even had public baths for the local populace. Her shrines often stood on the corner of busy city streets. They would have a small ornate overhanging roof with a mirror underneath. They were used to check one's appearance while honoring Sune with prayer. Some shrines even held perfume and cosmetic items for those who could not afford such luxuries themselves." [x]

volo's waterdeep enchiridion says this in particular about the temple of beauty in waterdeep:

"If you need to refresh yourself during your travels, or perhaps to primp before an important meeting or a night out, visit Sune’s faithful at the Temple of Beauty. Its marbled public baths and mirrored salons are open from before dawn to after dusk. There’s no fee for these services, or for the advice and aid of the temple’s many pleasant attendants, but donations are encouraged."

there are some other banters & lines of dialogue in the same vein:

Player: I want to be with Gale. I'm sorry. Shadowheart: Don't be. He's charming enough, well-read and well-groomed.

there are more banters and comments like this from other companions as well (including minthara, for example), so yes, i think it's safe to say that gale is not a 3-in-1 shampoo type.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #text: asks #gale also has a quadrillion comments about being really sensitive to smells (esp bad ones)#it's pretty funny #i need to make a compilation #also at some point i hope we can address how prejudiced these takes are and what they are rooted in #gale is not the toxic manly man or the token straight bc he has a beard & is mature #and was in a 'relationship' with a female goddess

236 notes · View notes

honeybubblebeeeeee · 5 months

Text

Toji is 100% the older, rich boyfriend that will throw money at any of your problems because he actually hates seeing you upset when it comes to finances.

Being a university student and working part time, you have a lot going on and a decent amount to pay for. You are not estranged from your parents per say but they aren't ones to help out either. You never ask for help because that's what you're used to but you also feel bad asking for money so you never will.

Toji came back to your shared apartment. He of course had to practically pry you out of your old sketchy apartment because you didn't want to 'burden' him. You had insisted on paying half of the rent, bills and groceries but Toji just wanted you to be comfortable. You had worn him down for groceries and paying your car and phone but that was it.

"Angel? You in here doll?" He hunted through the apartment looking for you. Finally he found you in the bedroom, hunched over your laptop quiet tears fell from your eyes.

Your eyes snapped to him when he came in the room. You forced a smile, sniffling. "Oh you're home early. How was work?" You spoke so nonchalantly as if you obviously weren't crying.

"Why are you crying?" Toji tried to see what was on your laptop but you snapped it shut and wiped your face.

"Oh, I'm not I just keep yawning." A very forced yawn came out of you and you wiped your eyes again.

He almost wanted to clap at your attempt to cover it up. You moved off the bed and went to walk past him to the bathroom but his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you against him.

"What's wrong doll? Tell me who's got you upset so I can fix that real quick." His mischievous smirk made you giggle through the sniffling.

"It's nothing. It's stupid anyway." He tilted your head up to look at him. "I don't care what it was angel. Tell me."

You knew he wouldn't relent. Sighing, you looked down at your hands as you spoke. "My school offered me a month abroad for a course.... but then I found out that my sponsor pulled my funding and now I don't know if I can afford it and I really wanted to go and ugh it's stupid. I just applied too so now I don't know whether to pull my application or try to make it work somehow." Toji's features softened as you rambled on. He did remember you telling him about all the abroad courses and he agreed then and now that you deserve to go.

He chuckled, cradling your head as he pulled you against his chest. "Baby, you have a sponsor still. You're going on that trip. So, stop the tears, alright?"

You sighed and tried to pull away from him. "I just told you I don't have a sponsor anymore."

Toji picked you up and threw you to the bed. You laughed as you bounced. "Close your eyes angel." You rolled your eyes at him before closing them.

You tried to focus on your hearing to tell what he was doing. You opened your eyes as you felt objects softly hit your skin.

"Toji!"

Toji was quite literally throwing money at you. Then after there was no more cash, he dropped a handful of different bank cards into your lap.

"Like I said, you're going. No more tears and I don't wanna hear any arguments or I'll go to your school and pay for it myself." He softly gripped your chin, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

~ ~ ~ ~

random draft i just never posted, am working on requests so THANK YOU SM FOR SENDING i just want them to be good so im taking my time <3

#fushiguro toji #toji x reader #jjk toji #jjk men #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #toji fluff #toji x you #toji x yn

364 notes · View notes

dreamauri · 11 months

Text

┇𝗗𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 - prologue ┇ ─ ୨୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ─ ┇you're the best, an unbeatable driver fighting for a place on the grid ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 858 ) ╰ 🫧 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

☆★ yayy!! thank you @lorarri for the title <3 i did a little character introduction at the end cause this series is going to have a lot of ocs (not y/n), anyways, enjoyyy ━━

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests )

2015 — Baku, Azerbaijan

The F1 grid watched intensely. You didn't need to over take, already in P1 with your trophy secured. But you did anyways, passing drivers one by one till you once more made it to the top of the grid. "Phenomenal performance by Seventeen, securing her Win once more."

Daniel Riccardo, Max Verstappen and and Carlos Sainz had stayed over to watch the F2 race, Crossing Paths once more with the all too famous masked driver. Jumping out of your car, you're greeted with your team shouting your number over and over as they hugged and kissed your famous black helmet. "Seventeen? Who names their child a number?" Carlos asked leaning on the edge watching.

"I don't think that's her real name, mate." Daniel commented taking a sip of the redbull can. "It's not, she doesn't use her real name. You can say it's like a . . . What do you call it? For superheroes?"

"Code name?" "Yeah, codename." Max nodded, his eyes trained on you as you did your post race duties and podium celebration. "She's scary." Carlos shivered standing straight ready to leave.

"She's nice." Max mumbled watching as you passed by. He gave you a small wave, you returning it hesitantly. An unconscious smile crept on his face, a little blush dusting his cheeks.

"You like her?" Daniel whispered teasingly, making the teenage boy frown in denial. "She's just a good driver. I- I don't really care." He folded his arms glaring at the older man.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2016 — Qubec, Canada

"And that is ferrari's reserve driver, and apparent F2 champion, seventeen, defending Vettel from Riccardo." Making the Canadian grand Prix so early into the season was a mistake. It was raining heavily in Montreal, and heavy slush was expected sometime during the race.

You could barely see, relying on instinct only as you took the turns and the curves. Your heartbeat was in your ears and you could feel it in your mouth as you continued to defend your temporary teammate from the red bull driver.

You were forcing the wheel in erratic directions to keep on the racing line, understanding the algorithm of the rain. "Seb i— o—t, se— —s —ut. Floo— it." You heard the choppy voice over the radio, passing by the crashed out Ferrari.

"Fucking hell." You cursed, accelerating as you maneuverer through the rain like a pro. It felt amazing to be in such a fast car, a big step up from the F2 motor. You pushed the DRS button once you got the chance, overtaking the current reigning champion.

"P—, p—. Ke—p g—ing." You continued to push every corner. "P what?" You asked not hearing the message. "P—." "Oh for fucks sake. Radio is shitty." You shouted overtaking the apparent Manor.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"It's not always so easy to be high up in the standings as a rookie. How do you feel?" "My eyes hurt." You replied blandly to the interviewer, rubbing your eyes tiredly. Your face was covered from the nose down with your hair up in your famous claw clip bun, still wearing the '1st Place' cap for some reason. You were doing your best to keep the photographers from catching major features of your face, needless to say, you were doing a good job.

With Hamilton to your left and Riccardo on your right, you sat in the press conference room bored out of your mind as the interviewers asked you dumb questions. "You guys should go back to school. Maybe you can learn how to ask good questions for best results in writing essays."

"How old are you? Aren't you still in school." Lewis asked, chuckling as he turned to face you. "Graduated early." You shrugged, going back to facing the sea of journalists. "Is there a driver you would like to battle with the most?" "Um . . . Not really. They're either retiered or dead. Maybe . . . maybe Verstappen, Max not Jos. I've raced against him in the karting championships, I'm sure he improved and could put up a better fight now." "Do you think you'll get a full seat next season?"

"That's a difficult question. Not all uh . . . teams have enough trust in female drivers. Hopefully I demonstrated how worthy of a seat I am. I am after all the first and only female to finish on a podium and win a race so . . . we'll see where it goes."

It didn't go. It never was going to.

You were stuck in the factory, working on the car for someone else. And when a seat was finally free in 2018, you watched as they gave it to someone who was not you. You were furious, no other team would take you, a girl. Not even Ferrari wanted you on the track and you were an exeptional driver.

the only thing that kept you grounded was going back home to your family. Your uncle and cousin were your pride and joy, the ones that kept you going. But the question was, what were you going to do now?

— 𝐌𝐀𝐗 (𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍) | 1 🇳🇱 :: ↳ 1997.09.30 (25) ↳ red bull's golden boy ↳ three time world champion

— ??? (???) | 17 :: ↳ 2000.07.22 (22) ↳ f4 world champion, f3 world champion, f2 world champion ↳ 2016 rookie of the year ↳ youngest f1 race winner

— 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 (𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐒) | 7 🇩🇪 :: ↳ 1996.06.06 (25) ↳ mercedes second driver ↳ 2016 world champion ↳ youngest world champion

— 𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐊𝐄 (𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐒) | 25 🇩🇪 :: ↳ 2000.07.22 (22) ↳ mclaren second driver ↳ 2022 rookie of the year

— 𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐀 (𝐄𝐋 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐈) | 🇪🇬 :: ↳ 2014.05.06 (8) ↳ best cousin in the world

— 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐍 (𝐄𝐋 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐈) 🇪🇬 :: ↳ 1985.05.05 (38) ↳ #1 uncle

— 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 (𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐒) | 25 🇩🇪 :: ↳ 1971.01.17 (54) ↳ grumpy old retired driver ↳ 5 time world champion

441 notes · View notes

eroslove88 · 1 year

Text

"She only wanted to lie beside him"

Pairing: Yan. Kenma x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Stalking, kidnapping, bondage, noncon touching and noncon implied

Note: WOAH!!! I POST 2 TIMES IN A WEEK. WILD!!! Uhm yeah, this is a guilty pleasure fic.

Turning on your computer you feel a bit... dumb? It feels useless to even message him- but yet here you are. Kenma messaged you, and that's not out of the ordinary. Actually it's pretty normal, it's been normal for like 6-7 months.

You got close to him because he was in a server with a mutual friend. He goes to your high school and growing up the most you said to him was something about project years ago. Senior year- you thought that this would be the year where you'd come out of your shell but that never happened. Anxiety crashed that thought early on. When you got on a daily routine of texting Kenma you thought he'd actually want to befriend you, but that's not what happened. Long late night conversations and not a word said to each other in real life. It doesn't help that you two walk the same way home either...

Maybe you wouldn't have cared so much if you didn't have a small crush on him.

'hey did we hv hw' your computer gets a notification, Kenma. You sigh and type back, 'Yeah, the insert for this lesson.' you see that he's typing but he stops and doesn't respond until about 5 minutes later- despite being online. '👍' you couldn't help but roll your eyes and just sigh.

None the less he was an ok dude, he had offered to gift you things, games & chocolates- all of which you declined. You didn't want to feel materialistic and greedy.

'do you wanna play gungeon' you put your jacket on and replied quickly, 'Sorry, I'm going for a walk. I can play in an hour though!' you patiently waited and he replied quickly. 'k' huffing you closed your laptop, charging it before you left.

During the winter, the sun went down faster than usual. So around 7ish the streets were empty for walkers except for the occasional dog walkers.

The sound of quiet foot steps penetrated your mind. Snapping your head around you're faced with empty streets, probably paranoia you thought. You turned your music up walking down your usual route.

Even with the music playing you couldn't help but hear footsteps everywhere. You weren't so far from the park... just 3 more blocks.

The feeling of being watched burns your neck, you really should've turned around. Pounding footsteps come running towards you but you were too late. Your screams were demoted to tiny whimpers as you weakly try grasping the needle in your neck.

You were freezing, your arms and legs were duct taped together. It was a pretty lazy job, but whatever kind of tape it was was pretty fucking strong. Your vision was blurred with tears and you whimper into your gag and curled into yourself seeming to have missed the boy sitting at the desk across the room.

It wasn't until you heard the creaking of the chair and light footsteps that you felt panic. Your eyes remained closed even when he was right by your face.

The bed dipped down, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you" a small crying noise comes out from your gag as you try to beg him to stay away. He shushed you coming closer but all you could do was shake your head and try to move away, "Hey, it's ok" he spoke to you like a stray kitten as he slowly approached your trembling body, "Sh... It's only me" you knew that. But that didn't stop you from squirming in his arm as you tried pushing him away. He tisked at your pitiful attempt, " 'm really sorry for not approaching you" he mumbles kissing your head. "I knew you were lonely..." he chuckles, "But that honestly made things even easier" he let's you go and stands up. "I've been waiting a while to do this you know" he pulls out a black box. He opened it and paused "I've always been curious to see how your pretty face would look with a full pussy" he pulls out 3 big dildos, "and ass" he smirks pulling out a condom. "2 v. 2?"

#tw yandere #tw kidnapping #yandere #tw noncon #haikyu smut #haikyuu yandere #yandere haikyu x reader #yandere haikyuu #yandere kenma #yandere kozume #kenma kozume

576 notes · View notes

crystallilytarot · 4 months

Text

MDNI 18 +post

Your future partner's thoughts before and after your first night together. Choose an earring.

Pile 1 - leaf

I think they already have feelings for you. They want to be confident and a little bit dominant too, but they will feel nervous, so maybe things won't be so smooth as they expected to be. They probably planned your night before, bought things or maybe even get a reservation to a hotel or a nice restaurant. But they can be a little cutely awkward at first, because they dreamed about having sex with you, and they almost can't believe that it's finally happening.

After that night, they will feel better, because actually the night was quite good, even with their nervousness. They will feel tired, but also want to do it again, want to do it a lot. Again and again. They will find you even more attractive than before, they will fall in love with your body. And they will already know that they want to marry you one day. Or if you don't want marriage, than just to be with you for a long time. But I think they want to marry you and also have children with you. Their desire for you is even bigger than before. The definition of heart eyes because of you.

Pile 2 - moose

I think they wanted to be with you, way before than you were ready. But they actually care about you, so they will be patient. I think they are already in love with you, maybe you are already in a relationship, so it's not happening very early, not on the first date. They probably fantasized about you a few times. But not really about kinky things, they just want to pleasure you, want you to enjoy the sex. And they are sure that they would be a good match for you in bed. Sometimes they will caress you, hold your hands, very cuddly, but it's not always sexual, they just like to be close to you.

After that night, you both will be very happy. It's like you are connected to each other, not just your bodies, your souls too. You will talk a lot, just cuddling and talking about anything. And they will want to be with you like that forever. They will feel like it's heaven. You are their soulmate, they just want to be with you. You will only talk in the morning maybe, because you will be very tired, probably there will be at least 2 rounds. And they will feel like that was the best orgasm ever in their life.

Pile 3 - palm tree

They will try to impress you, probably there will be a lot of dates, gifts. They really want to be with you, not just sexually, they have plans, they want to be in a relationship with you. They are rather confident and maybe they thought you will be with them a little sooner, but they will wait, if you want to. They are the type, who don't give up, not in a creepy way, but they really want to be with you, and they aren't afraid to show you this. Strong sexual chemistry, sometimes they can't help it, you only touched their hands, and their thoughts will be already dirty.

After that night they will realize that they are really falling for you. The night will be like a dream come true, it will be even better than what they imagined. They will find your body very sexy. I think you will be in control at some point of the night too, and they will find this confident side of you very attractive. They are a confident person and they will be a little scared even, because he will catch feelings, but he isn't sure about your feelings. And they don't want it to be just a little fling, they don't want to loose you. But for some reason, they won't talk about this that night, so they will be a little nervous, but also they will know that you are the best thing that ever happened to them.

#18+ tarot #tarot #free tarot #pick a card #pick a pile

739 notes · View notes

obsidianbaby · 18 days

Text

Don't Love Me Like A Brother - Prologue

Brothers Best Friend Series - PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1 -

series synopsis - ronnie's younger brother, tyler, is a famous youtuber & influencer and is best friends with the sturniolos. This series will be following ronnie's life as she befriends the triplets and catches herself developing feelings for a certain someone...

**series will contain smut as it develops but warnings will be added to those specific chapters

**found myself writing a few flashback chapters before present day just to build up the established friendships bc I'm impatient and don't want the slow burn to drain anyone 😭

warnings/notes - no smut in this as it's just the prologue to introduce y'all to the story.

a/n - starting this series and im very exciteddddddd i hope y'all fuck with a slow burn, friends to lovers best friends brother type beat. Buckle up mfs it's gonna be an angsty ride

a/n pt 2 - im not gonna share who ronnie develops feelings for just yet I want y'all to be on edge okok enjoy MWAH xx

__________________________________

PROLOGUE

ronnies pov

having a brother who's famous on social media is humbling to say the least.

The amount of fan girls who have followed my accounts just because they're obsessed with him makes me question many people's sanity (including my own).

But tyler is one of my best friends. And thank god for my dad, who from the jump, did not tolerate any misogynistic bullshit from my brother.

Raising two kids as a single dad after my mom passed away (before ty and I were older than the age of 5) was tough for him and he embraced the times when he needed support (like when i first got my period, bless his heart he bought almost every type of menstrual product off the shelf).

His values were the perfect structure for us to grow up following; respect, open communication, giving our best efforts to everything (even if the only effort we could offer up was a 60% instead of a 100%)

My childhood friends would always whine about how "chill" my dad was. And it's not cause he didn't care, (he probably cares too much) but he didn't want to shield us either, knowing we need to learn how to exist in the world without him constantly up our asses.

"As long as we can talk about shit at the end of the day then we're good" one of his favorite mantras he would spew to me and ty when we would get caught doing something you might call a "right of passage" as a teenager.

And since it was just the three of us, we've always leaned on each other a lot. Sunday family dinners at nans' every week, taking turns helping my dad at his shop after school (he's a car mechanic), movie nights every thursday night where my dad would close up shop early, setting up the projector in the shop garage and ordering us pizza. My brother has been a best friend to me since I held him in my arms at the age of 3 when he was born.

And of course, we have the usual chaotic fights to the death like most siblings do, him pranking me in the most annoying ways, me making fun of his dumbass, him eating all of my food, me stealing his cool clothes, him begging me to uber him around everywhere, etc.

But we also just really enjoy each other's company too; going on late night walks around town, sitting in bed staying up talking all night, playing mario cart for hours (id always kick his ass), going adventuring together to forests or beaches, hanging out at the skate park together (me laughing at him eating shit and him chasing me around trying to whack me with his board), us both ditching our friends to stay at home and yap to each other instead, us having campfires in the backyard with both of our friend groups together, working on restoring mom's 1967 ford mustang together that she left us when she passed.

So when he came to me a few years back, during the pandemic, asking my thoughts on him posting on youtube, I was in full support (after teasing him that no one would find him, an 18 year old lanky white boy about to graduate high school funny or interesting. I have to keep him humble ya know?)

But his first few videos on youtube went viral and his following kept growing daily, especially when he started posting on tiktok too.

He's had me (and even my dad) featured in his videos which i don't mind at all (since im the one that's editing them)

I can see why the internet loves him (i did help raise him of course).

But since he's hit over 3 million on youtube last year, he's been doing a shit ton of collabs with other influencers and youtubers; the sturniolo triplets, larray, emma chamberlain, jake webster, tarayummy, vinnie hacker, carrington, etc.

And these days I try to stay behind the scenes as much as possible, trying to enjoy my solitude away from the opinions of crazy fans. (why do they care so much about what im doing anyways?)

Yet he understands (thank god) and he's always inviting me to come hangout with the friends he's made through social media, and i can't lie and say i don't enjoy being in the company of such dope (and attractive) people.

END OF PROLOGUE

______________________________________________

a/n - hellooooo i have a few more parts already written for this but im gonna wait to see how this post goes first (because i have a dire need for validation and praise) anywaysssss thank you for reading mwah xx

#sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fanfic

66 notes · View notes

futurecorps3 · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬

Masterlist<3

Summary: YEARNING WITH A READER HES ABLE TO TOUCH. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Warnings: Mentions of Kaz's touch aversion, death, slight OOC Kaz but I think only if you squint like he's a softie with Y/N and Y/N only. Let me know if I missed any!!! Word Count: 2.3K Requested: I guess? @kaldurahms-lover

A/N: The user tagged posted a general request to us Kaz fic writers. The concept follows the line of how our boy would need TOUCH from an s/o who he has known from before JorDIE died. Bestie I hope you like it and you don't mind I used fem!reader (I can change it if it IS an issue). I haven't started and I'm already excited about this piece being posted!!! Mwah hope I did justice to the concept.

˚ · • . ° .

Kaz didn't really know what it was. Maybe it was the weather, too warm for Ketterdam, or the way he was sweating under his gloves. Maybe it was how loud Nina and Jesper were being, too tipsy to care for the volume of their laughs, or how the last job had gone well even when they didn't follow the plan he traced. Maybe he just missed her.

Who was he kidding? Of course he missed her. Y/N had been gone two weeks on a little trip to Novyi Zem to pick up a shipment and get information from financial records kept in one of the properties belonging to their next target. He really tried getting his seller to deliver directly to Ketterdam, but they said it would be too much trouble. Y/N, kind as always, convinced Kaz offered to do both tasks.

And he missed her. The others could tell. The grumpy mood the bastard carried himself with had been even grumpier in the last couple of days and they all knew well what was going on, but decided against prying because he'd never admit it. They couldn't really blame him. After all, his girl was the only one who seemed to melt that inaccessible boy.

They found each other in akin situations; lost kids in a new city, all on their own and with the foolish dream of making a life with nothing but honest intentions and a kind heart. The boy could still remember those pretty watery eyes looking up at his brother with fear, fear of him being another person ready to hurt her. Instead, he made a silent promise to himself to always protect her, to never let anyone hurt her again.

Little did that boy knew he could not keep that promise, not for her, not for himself. He thought fondly at that memory, though. An image close to his heart that made him wonder that maybe he wasn't such a horrible person. Blame it on the innate capacity of kids to feel empathy towards virtually any living thing.

When Jordie died, Kaz was ruined. He felt like he had lost a part of himself, and he didn't know how to go on without his brother. He was consumed by grief and anger, early in age, and pushed Y/N far away from him. But Y/N didn't give up on him.

She knew how much he was hurting, and she refused to let him suffer alone. She was patient with him, giving him the space he needed to grieve, but also letting him know that she was there for him whenever he was ready to talk.

One day, as they were walking through the streets of Ketterdam, Kaz finally opened up to Y/N. He told her everything he had been feeling since Jordie died, the anger, the guilt, and most importantly, the emptiness. And as he spoke, Y/N listened, never judging him, but always offering a kind word or a gentle touch. A touch that did not bother him in the slightest.

Her hands didn't make him feel sick like the ones from officers in the Stadwatch. He realized that he could bear it, and even better, savor it. As they sat in that alley all those years ago, sharing a piece of bread and a dream of a better life, Kaz knew that he had found something special in Y/N. He had found someone who understood him, who accepted him for who he was, and who believed in him even when he didn't believe in himself.

And he knew that he would never let her go. No matter what challenges they faced in the future, no matter how dark the world around them became, Kaz would always have Y/N by his side, just as she had always had his. Together, they would face anything that came their way, because that was what they had always done. They were lost kids in a new city, but they had found each other, and that was all that mattered.

With time, he saw Y/N under a new light. Kaz admired the girl for her capacity to take the best out of situations while remaining conscious of how awful things could get. Her tenderness and bliss seemed to come from a bottomless pit, while his had run dry a long time ago.

It's okay, she had enough to spare for the both of them. Feelings developed, conflict ensued, and after three years of the perilous path of love, they became official. Kaz wouldn't have it any other way and Saint's know Y/N wouldn't either. They loved each other like only two young kids in love could; raw, endlessly.

And that's why Y/N's letter saying she needed more time to collect information had the barrel's bastard all sulky. He needed her embrace, and he needed it now. The more he thought about it, the less probable it seemed for him to be able to hold on a few more days.

"You okay, boss?"

Now, Jesper knew the answer to his question, and he knew why Brekker wasn't doing okay, but he was no expert on how to handle these types of situations, and it seemed like the right thing to ask. As far as Kaz goes, well, he had no idea when the zemeni boy had left his place next to Nina to walk all the way to him. He was too busy thinking about her, as he had been for the past two weeks.

No response came from him. Then a sigh from Jesper. "She'll be back soon, she's okay, Kaz. Turn that terrifying frown into the normal one, you're scaring the piggeons more than we want to". The frustration he felt seemed almost unreasonable; he gave her the job knowing exactly the implications it entailed, so why was he so needy? There was patience in any action of his, but he couldn't control how much he wanted a kiss from his lover at the moment.

To some, it might be cute. To him, it was thoroughly infuriating. "Get a hold of yourself. She'll be back soon, no need to get all mad about something that only time will fix", he thought to himself over and over again in that hot afternoon as he laid on a white blowy blouse in his room trying to go to sleep so time would somehow be faster since burying himself in paperwork and plotting hadn't worked.

With a deep sigh, Kaz closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. He knew that he had to get a grip on himself and not let his emotions get the best of him. Y/N would be back soon enough, and until then, he would have to be patient and wait for her return. And so, he lay there, trying to calm his racing thoughts and steady his beating heart, until finally, he drifted off to sleep.

˚ · • . ° .

First thing he heard was a soft hum. A too familiar song coming from a sweet voice in the bathroom. Was he so out of control he was now dreaming of Y/N returning? What love does to a man... The sun prickling his skin felt too real, the sweat on his bare hands ran freshly, tickling him ever so slightly.

He sat up quickly, his heart pounding with excitement. Had she returned early from her trip? He got out of bed and walked towards the door carefully, his bare footsteps echoing delicately on the wooden floor. As he opened the door a bit wider, he saw her standing in front of the mirror. Y/N's eyes met his, hers sparkling with a well-known happiness.

"Hi" she dared to say. Saints! She had no idea what an agony it had been without her, right? Kaz felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of her. She looked radiant, with her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed from the heat outside. A long walk from the docks, surely. Had he been awake and aware of her early return, he would've walked her back to the Slat with an umbrella to shield both of them from the suffocating light.

"Hello" he mumbled, still a little dazed from sleep. Y/N smiled and stepped closer to him. "I missed you," she said simply, reaching out to take his hand. Kaz felt a surge of emotion wash over him, and he knew in that moment that she had missed him just as much. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him as he breathed in the scent of her hair. It was the same from before she left, just a little saltier.

For a moment, they just stood there, wrapped up in each other, savoring the feeling of being together once more.

Finally, Y/N pulled back and looked up at him, a soft smile on her lips. "I brought you something," she said, pulling away and shuffling through her bag before humming contently, pulling and holding out a small box.

Kaz took the package and opened it to reveal a delicate silver necklace, with a tiny crow charm dangling from it. He looked up at her, surprised and touched by the gesture. "Y-you don't have to wear it-" "It's beautiful," he said softly, handing it over to her as she carefully placed it around his neck with a content smile.

They both knew it would remain hidden under the various layers of clothing he wore on cooler days (or even the hotter ones such as this), but knowing it was there was enough.

"Looks pretty" Y/N beamed, tracing her fingers down his half-exposed chest and pulling him in for a hug from the waist. "I missed you so much," he confessed, feeling the commotion inside of him finally subside under her touch. "I missed you too much, never let me go away for that long again... no matter how stubborn I get".

Kaz felt his mouth turn up in a grin, almost letting out a giggle. "Never," He looked down at her briefly and found her looking at him already, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "don't think I could bear it".

As the heat of the afternoon persisted, Kaz and Y/N found themselves seeking refuge in the relative coolness of Kaz's bedroom. They lay on the bed together, cuddled up over the white sheets, with Kaz's arm wrapped tightly around Y/N's waist. Despite the warmth of the day, Kaz felt a chill run through him at the touch of Y/N's skin against his.

As they lay there, Kaz felt a sense of peace wash over him. He had spent so much of his life chasing after money and power, but now, in this moment, he realized that his number one priority was something much simpler: the warmth and love of the person he cared about most in the world.

Y/N shifted slightly in his arms, and Kaz tightened his grip on her. He could feel her breathing softly against his chest, and he knew that he would never tire of this feeling.

"I've been more... difficult than usual. Even Matthias got alarmed," he murmured, his voice low and husky laced with amusement. Y/N looked up at him, giggling, her eyes filled with love. "It's okay," she said softly. "I missed you too."

Kaz smiled, feeling a sense of contentment that he had never experienced before. He knew that his life would always be filled with danger and uncertainty, but as long as he had Y/N by his side, he knew that he would be able to face anything. Just like when they were kids.

They lay there for a long time, just holding each other, lost in their own thoughts. And as the afternoon turned to evening, they drifted off to sleep, safe and content in each other's arms.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:)

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #six of crows #six of crows x reader #grishaverse x reader #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone #grishaverse #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker oneshot #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker fanfic

858 notes · View notes