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seventeenpins · 2 months

Text

a slight miscalculation - pt. i

pairing: Joel x F!Reader

word count: 8.3k

summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.

content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter

a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷

check out pt. ii

For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.

It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?

It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.

When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.

"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."

Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"

"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"

"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"

"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."

Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."

"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."

Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.

Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.

Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.

He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?

He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.

Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.

"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.

Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.

"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"

This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.

"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.

The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.

There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.

They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.

6am Sunday.

You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.

(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)

You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.

"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.

"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.

He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.

You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.

You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.

A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.

How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?

You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.

"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.

"Yeah?" he calls back.

"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"

Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.

But no.

That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.

"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"

She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"

"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.

"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.

"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"

He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.

"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"

Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"

"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."

She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.

He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.

As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.

You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.

"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.

With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.

You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.

"This seat taken?" a man asks.

You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."

"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.

The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"

You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.

"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."

You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."

"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"

"Caramel deLites, hands down."

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nods.

The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.

You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?

Whatever it is, it feels good.

The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.

"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.

"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"

"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."

"Texas?"

Joel nods.

"That's a long trip."

"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."

"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"

"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."

"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.

"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.

"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"

He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."

You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."

"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."

You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.

"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"

"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."

He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.

"What about you? Where're you from?"

"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.

"Ever make it to Texas?"

"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."

"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.

"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.

"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"

"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."

"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."

"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."

Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.

"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."

You half expect him to stand up and walk away.

Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"

"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.

"How about just one more fungus fact?"

You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."

You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--

"That's- That's actually really interesting."

Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."

Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."

Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.

"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."

Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?

"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."

The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.

"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"

He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."

You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.

When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.

Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.

When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.

"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.

You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.

Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.

You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.

Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.

"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.

You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.

Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.

Tonight, though, you're ravenous.

As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.

Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.

And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.

He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.

"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.

You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.

Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.

You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.

You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.

It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.

"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.

You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."

"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.

"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."

You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.

"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"

"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"

You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.

You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.

He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.

"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"

You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.

"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."

"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.

He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.

"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"

Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.

It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.

Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."

His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."

His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.

"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"

He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.

When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.

You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.

Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.

"Enjoying the show?" you ask.

"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."

You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.

"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."

You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.

"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.

He's looking at you so earnestly.

"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."

You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.

"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"

You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.

After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."

"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."

Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.

You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-

After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.

It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.

"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."

"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."

He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.

"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"

"Not many, no."

"What, you usually fuck raw?"

"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.

"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."

Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."

"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"

His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."

The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.

But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"

"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."

"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.

"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.

"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.

"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.

"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."

Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."

"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.

Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.

As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.

"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"

After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"

A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.

The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.

"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.

The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.

"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."

"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.

You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."

He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.

"I'm getting tired," he admits.

"Me too," you agree.

"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."

"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"

Joel raises a brow.

"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"

You take a breath.

"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."

He stares at you.

You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.

How fucking inconvenient.

"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"

You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."

"Spatula?"

"Yep." You feel foolish.

"Huh. Spatula."

A silent moment between you.

"Got any pictures?"

You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.

Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?

His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬

There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.

But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.

After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!

The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.

His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.

He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.

"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."

Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.

With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."

You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.

Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.

You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.

It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.

It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.

Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.

He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.

I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?

It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.

Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.

He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.

Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.

When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.

He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.

You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.

You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.

Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.

But then he's standing right there.

You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.

Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.

"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"

Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.

Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.

You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.

"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."

Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.

This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.

All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.

Everything will be fine.

Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.

#joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller x f!reader #ok i gotta be honest i was stoned out of my mind for writing most of this #but mostly sober for editing #thank u for bearing with meeeeeee

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nicksbestie · 9 days

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Migraines - M. Sturniolo

Summary : Matt struggles with chronic migraines, and some days there isn't much that you can do, but that never means you don't try,

Warnings : mentions of vomiting and nausea, a small bit of crying

Word Count : 1313

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i got inspo from this photo of matt <3

Living an entire two decades of life with chronic migraines was an absolutely miserable thing.

Matt was nearing his twenty-first birthday, and he was desperate to find something in his life that would help with these migraines. He had gone through prescription after prescription, doctor appointment after doctor appointment, specialist after specialist, and nothing had helped the splitting pain. He had a migraine tracker on his phone so that he could tell the percentage of how often he had migraines, and it was well over sixty percent of every month. It was quite depressing to look at, and even more depressing to live. It really affected Matt’s happiness and day to day life.

All of their YouTube videos were filmed on Matt’s good days. They would change outfits so that they could film five to six videos in one day, gathering a lot of topics so that they would have tons to post when it came time to put them all up. Both of his brothers were incredibly caring and didn’t mind the way that they had to do things, and both wanted to do everything possible to make it easier for their middle sibling. They rode with Matt in an Uber every time his migraine was too bad for him to drive, so that he wouldn’t have to be alone, especially at a doctor’s office, a place he was already generally hesitant to be at. They truly were always by his side, arguing with doctors that told him it was anxiety based, or that he was exaggerating, when he didn’t have the energy to argue for himself.

Today was a bad day for him. Chris and Nick had left before Matt had woken up, so they had no idea that he was struggling, because the light from his phone, even at the lowest setting, wasn’t low enough to not send stabbing pains through his head, so he hadn’t texted. He hadn’t had the energy to call and speak to them either. All he had done was gotten up and shut the blinds, covering them up with blackout screens that he had bought a couple years back, because he needed all of the light out. They worked incredibly well, and he had cut off the dim lighting in his room that he’d slept with, needing complete darkness.

He had no idea how long he had laid there, he just knew he was in pain. Unbeknownst to him, when you noticed that he didn’t reply to your text, you were immediately concerned, and already on your way over. You’d seen that he’d read it, so you knew he was awake, and he hadn’t replied. He never left you on read, unless he couldn’t bear to look at his phone screen any longer, which meant he had a terrible migraine. You’d wasted no time getting ready, and due to the fact that Matt didn’t wake up until almost two in the afternoon, you didn’t get over there until almost four. You had your own key, both because of instances like these, and because of the fact that you had been together for almost two years now. Letting yourself in, you texted Chris and Nick, telling them that you were there as well.

You wasted no time in going upstairs, gently opening Matt’s door, and immediately closing it behind you, because while the light in the hallway wasn’t on, the daylight would filter in, and you knew it would aggravate his head. Seeing him face down on the bed, under covers and pillows, you gently whispered your greeting, telling him so he wouldn’t freak out, though you doubted he had the energy to freak out on you. You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, rubbing his back and laying down next to him. He curled into your chest, and you could see the remnants of tear tracks on his face. You laid a kiss to his forehead, gently running your hand over it and through his hair. Your hands were a cooler temperature, and you could tell that it felt good and soothed his pain for a few seconds. You laid a palm on his forehead, wanting to help him feel better any way that you could.

You laid with him for about an hour, helping hold the trash can at the side of his bed when the pain got to be so bad that it caused him to throw up, helping wipe his face off and get him laid back down, before realizing he hadn’t eaten anything all day, so it probably wouldn’t get much better. You laid there for a little while longer, thinking about what to do to help him, when you remembered a trick that had helped you when you had a terrible migraine one day. You softly untangled yourself from him, whispering that he could stay right there and you would be right back.

You went into the bathroom, turning a small, very dim, light on in the corner so you could see what was going on around you. You began running a warm bath, letting it run while you went to get Matt a small snack. You set it down on the edge of the bathtub, on the side touching the wall, and went to go get your boyfriend. You picked out some clean clothes for him, grabbed him the water bottle from his nightstand as well, and led him to the bathroom. He knew where it was, of course, but the thought of opening his eyes for the chance of any light just made the pain intensify, so he trusted you to guide him.

By this point, the tub was about three quarters of the way full, and you helped him get in. You knew he hadn’t showered that day, and the warm water on your legs and feet helped with your migraines, so you hoped it would help him as well. Judging by the way his face began to relax once he was in the tub, his back against your chest, you were glad it took away a little bit of his pain. You kept the temperature of the bathroom cooler so that he wouldn’t overheat, but not enough for him to get cold. His eyes stayed closed, but they were a calm closed, not a scrunched, wincing in pain, closed. He didn’t speak much, but he took the water and food that he was offered, and a gentle smile crossed his face the longer he sat in the tub.

The longer you stayed there with him, gently running your hands through his hair, the more his breathing evened out, and the deeper it got, and eventually, you realized he had fallen asleep. He had been so tired from being in pain, even though he had only been up for about four hours, that when the pain had lessened dramatically, his body was so exhausted that he just fell asleep in comfortable arms. You stayed there with him until the water went cold, and even longer after that, because you couldn’t bear to disturb him. After about half an hour, you softly shook him awake, gently helping him stand. By this point, you had both basically air dried, and Matt only pulled on boxers and loose shorts to sleep in. You tugged on one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers as well, going back to bed with him.

As soon as he hit the bed, he was about to fall asleep again, and you pulled him back into your arms. You never minded taking care of him, knowing that he loved you more than words could say, and as he whispered a soft “I love you” into your chest, you knew you could do this for him for the rest of your life, and you could die happy.

“I love you more.”

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foldingfittedsheets · 1 month

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I had this friend I was living with when I was getting my associates degree in my early twenties. Wait, hang on. So the first thing I need to convey about that time in my life is that I was as full of anxiety as it was possible to be.

I was working, taking classes, and living on my own for the first time. I was drowning. I was a bubbling kettle of stress and responsibilities all waiting to boil over at any moment. Bodies are fickle things. They all react to stress very differently. My body decided that the best possible way to deal with stress was to puke about it.

This was extremely unwelcome not just because throwing up is a violently uncomfortable experience but also because I struggled most of my life to maintain a healthy weight. I’d eat enormous portions but even when my food stayed down I burned through calories like a hummingbird. I tended to hover right around a hundred pounds, desperately trying to gain weight.

My friends were all aware of my struggles. They’d keep granola bars on them for when I suddenly got so hungry I was sick and made me calorie dense meals. They knew the face I made when I realized I was going to be sick and usually had water and back rubs for me afterward.

So that’s where I was. Throwing up generally at least once a week, working and school full time. I was living with three friends. Let’s call them K, D, and E. K and I had been friends since middle school and she and I shared a bedroom with our own bathroom. The boys D and E shared a room, and had the public bathroom.

The last thing you need to know is that D was a sex addict. He was always horny, masturbated several times a day, and made no secret of his proclivities. It was a running joke within the friend group. (As an aside he once had his car broken into while transporting his duffel bag of sex toys to and from a liaison, and the thief ignored everything else in the car to take the toys. It was probably over a thousand dollars of used sex toys but the thief still wanted it more than his iPod)

One night I was doing homework and dinner was sitting poorly. I hadn’t fully developed my brain yet to make a connection between my paper was stressing me out to the fact that I suddenly felt really sick. But to my dismay K was in our bathroom.

So I jumped up, frantically ill, and ran across the living room to the boys toilet to barf.

The walls were thin.

Within a few minutes D came in with a cold wash cloth. He put it on my neck and rubbed my back. He’d brought a glass of water for me, too, which was all very lovely.

When I was done we sat in the miserable aftermath of this latest episode in stomach violence. He finally broke the silence to comment, “I’ve never lost an erection as fast as I did hearing you start puking.”

#ramblies #ffs foibles #funny #I stopped puking shortly after meeting my beloved actually #I had started eating better on my own but they have a lovely calming presence and things improved a lot for me when we started dating #writing #story #real life #cw vomit

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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 months

Text

At the Movies

Male Alpha Yandere x Transfem Omega Reader

CW: Noncon, extortion, coercion, cum licking, panty sniffing, a/b/o dynamics, stalking, general yandere behavior, musk, pheromones, knotting

Word Count: 866

(I had a dream that this happened to me last night and decided to write it as a story. Not beta read. Sorry for errors. I don't think transfem readers are really catered to that often, so hopefully some people feel represented without feeling fetishized in this. <3)

You were an omega. You had decided to go see a movie by yourself because the theater was playing old classic horror films every night this week. This was the first time since coming out as a trans woman that you had been out in public and you were extremely nervous. You had worked very hard on your makeup and had put on a cute skirt. Though you had a lot of anxiety, you also felt more yourself than you ever had before.

It was a Monday night and still a bit early, so there was no one else viewing the same movie that you were. You picked a good spot to watch from and settled in with your popcorn and drink. After a few good minutes, you felt more and more comfortable, until halfway through the film, you heard someone come in.

You didn't pay the person any attention until they were close enough for you to catch their scent. You recognised who it belonged to immediately. Your stalker, Shaun. He was a persistent alpha who had been after you for months. A total creep who thought you were meant to belong to him.

By the time you could smell him, he was already too close for you to escape. He sat down beside you and grabbed your wrist so you couldn't get away. With his other hand, he muffled your mouth so you couldn't scream. He leaned close, and his scent made you dizzy.

"Sorry I'm late for our date. I had to pick up Mr. Sir Squiggles."

Your blood ran cold. Mr. Sir Squiggles was your beloved hamster. The implication was clear. Stop struggling, or else he'd do something to your pet.

"Don't look so horrified, baby. I'd never hurt our pet. But I have custody, so if you want to see him, you'll have to do what I want with you and move in with me."

Shaun sounded so smug. He knew he had finally won. His romantic advances had failed, so why not keep your pet hostage? You cried silently and nodded so he knew you understood what you had to do. He released you from his grip and pulled you close with his arm around you. His pheromones were suffocating, and you could smell how aroused he was.

After a while, he noticed you shaking with nervousness but misinterpreted it as you being cold.

"You look cold, here~"

"N-no I'm fine." You sputtered.

He ignored you and draped you in his sweaty jacket. It did nothing to soothe your anxiety though his musl did make your body betray you in a humiliating fashion. Your cock was hard and slick was starting to leak from your ass. He could smell it as soon as it happened.

"Well I was going to wait until we got home, but if my girl needs it now, I'd be neglectful if I said no."

The tip of his cock was already visible poking out the leg of his shorts as he reached under your skirt and rubbed your soft thighs before ripping off your panties. He brought the tattered underwear to his nose and inhaled deeply before stuffing it into his pocket for later. You had to suppress the urge to run away and just let it happen.

Shaun pulled his shorts down enough for his eager prick to bounce free. Then he hitched up your skirt and pulled you on his lap, lowering you on his length in one smooth motion.

"I fit so well~ you were made for my cock."

You whimpered but he shushed you and kissed up your neck.

"Shhh, relax. Just watch your movie and enjoy my cock."

You tried to focus on the movie, to focus on anything but this gross violation. But it was impossible with him sliding so deeply into you while claiming, biting, and kissing your sensitive neck over and over. Je began to gently stroke your weeping cock. You couldn't help but moan softly as his knot swelled and brought you to orgasm. Your insides clenched and throbbed around his dick and finally made him drain his balls into you. He took the cum you spilled into his hand and smeared it on your lips before licking it off.

Shaun held you tight in his lap while waiting for his knot to stop swelling so that the two of you could uncouple. You panted and blankly watched the film while not really watching it as your head was overloaded with all that had just transpired. Occasionally, Shaun would kiss your neck gently or rub your legs in what he thought was a soothing manner.

Every once in a while, he'd whisper praise softly into your ear.

"You're so good at taking me."

"You look so pretty in a skirt."

"You're such a good girl."

When the movie ended, and when his knot decided to dislodge itself from your rear, Shaun led you out of the theater and into his car, cum slowly dripping down your legs the entire time. You were a mess, but too numb to really pay attention or care, but that was okay. Your new alpha boyfriend would take care of you.

#yandere x reader #alpha yandere #alpha x omega reader #Transfem reader #Transgirl reader #Male yandere x transfem reader #My OCs #My OC Shaun #Yandere a/b/o #yandere omegaverse #yandere

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miguelo-hara · 2 years

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I'm sorry you're feeling such dread and anxiety. I hope your day goes okay. Or at the very least, isn't too terrible. ❤🌷

yeah my day itself was alright, it's more the anxiety of my research assignment i need to do :'/ but im going to my parents who i havent seen in a while so that'll be nice at least

#ask #thanks for checking in tho <3 #yeah it's just general anxiety and doubt about my assignment and my graduation project after and figuring out my life while i dont want to #yknow #also i was happy it would at least see a friend of mine again today but he just ended up annoying me #first was when he didn't respond if he wanted to go for lunch so i just went home #then he offered to visit for which i was oh nice yeah i never have people over #but he just ended up talking about himself and his supposed struggles #barely asked about me #idk lately it just really shows how self centered he actually is #kinda sad #but oh well at least i got the essay i wanted him to share with me

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night-raven-tattler · 4 months

Text

What's your ideal type?

Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?

Characters: Savanaclaw dorm (Leona, Jack, Ruggie) ×GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Leona's ideal type would be...

Someone who knows themselves and their worth. Leona might be apathetic and somewhat lazy, but he knows exactly what he's capable of. While he is willing to nudge people in the right direction, he doesn't want to deal with any dead weight.

Someone who doesn't take things at face value. He thinks having people who do what he wants are an advantage, but he doesn't think highly of any brainless followers. You are allowed to question him, disagree with him, even completely go against him. You also can disagree whenever he says he's "fine" and "just tired" whenever he's been skipping classes for too many days in a row, and there's an unopened letter from Falena on his desk.

Someone who doesn't mock his sleeping habits. Leona has some chaoric sleeping patterns, and he often doesn't sleep for a full night. If he says it's naptime, then it's naptime, and you don't get to do more than playfully argue. He'll also allow you to join him if you keep quiet enough.

Someone who doesn't belittle him. He knows he will never be enough. He knows he's just a second choice, if not less than that. He knows that he will not always be your top priority. And he doesn't believe you when you say or prove to him otherwise. But it's the first time he enjoys seeing someone try to prove him wrong.

『••✎••』

Jack's ideal type would be...

Someone who doesn't share his black and white way of thinking. Jack had a very rigid code of conduct, and he sticks to it religiously. While his views can't always be challenged, he likes the idea that regardless of your way of thinking you're still willing to understand him, and he's willing to do the same.

Someone who wants a serious relationship. As a wolf beastman and a witness of the dedicated love the generations before him showed, Jack has some very idealised expectations for his love life. He doesn't jump into relationships right away, and he's open with what he wants from the very beginning of your relationship. lf you stick around, he'll take it you feel the same.

Someone who is more of a realist. Jack finds enjoyment in becoming the best version of himself on all levels. Yet, he struggles to keep an open mind when he's decided to do something. Reminding him to give up on his tunnel vision from time to time and see the bigger picture brings him back to reality and makes him feel thankful for you and your ability to remind him to be a bit more real with his plans.

Someone he can care for. This is not a matter of size or personality, and while Jack knows you'll always have his back, it's very important for him to feel like he's also protecting you. Some of it does stem from his view on relationships, but he also likes caring for people. Let him brush your hair after he grooms his fur, or let him reach for that one book you need that's just out if reach.

『••✎••』

Ruggie'a ideal type would be...

Someone who saves leftovers for him. This is kind of obvious: Ruggie has some bad food anxiety, because he grew up not really knowing when his next meal would be. Someone who helps him soothe some of that anxiety will make his heart feel fluttery.

Someone that sticks with him through thick and thin. Spotted hyenas stick together in clans and have a very strict hyerarchy. However, Ruggie is also an opportunist, and you can't expect him to always stand by your side if you don't do the same. Unwavering loyalty has to be at the base of your relationship no matter what, and don't let it falter once you reach that point.

Someone who doesn't let him rely too much on his bad habits. And by that I mean mostly his pickpocketing habits. Yeah, you can't really stop him from stealing from Leona's wallet whenever he gets ahold of it, but he'll remember you made him a sweather! You gifted him a blanket! You invited him over for dinner! Okay, maybe he has himself somewhat covered already, shyehehehehe.

Someone who loves unconditionally. Everytime you show him affection without really expecting anything in return, his mind goes back to the days when he was little, and his grams told him stories about love that conquered all, love that made everything easier. He never thought of himself as worthy of that type of love.... But with you in his arms and head on his chest, then maybe... just maybe...

『••✎••』

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader

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noxtivagus · 2 years

Text

ACTUALLY NO WHAT DO I DO

#uh #i just rmbered again that there's sm i want to do #i'm stressed about so many things oh no what do i doooo #one moment i feel like myself again and in the next i want to disappear #but. as overwhelming as it all is #writing dreaming n wtvr. just being myself like that #gives me comfort #which is why i love losing myself in stuff like gbf and ffxiv and stories like that #to be free...#i live a lot in my head. i'm really an introvert n i'm generally a sensitive person yeah #but all my life i've never actually been alone. even before i was born i always even had a twin #so loneliness is smth i struggle w badly TvT also bcs i can't pull myself out of it #for nearly 2 years i really had no contact at all with any of my irl friends n i'm rlly bad w making the first move #i rlly want to but Anxiety #i rmber even in ffxiv apollo n i found that fc bcs our fc lead invited us n #they followed up on the question yeah.#we were really quiet at first but we just spent time together n oh yk they really earned my trust #for my irls i rmber back in 2021 when we started talking again #it rlly meant a lot to me that they made the first move bcs it really. they said they missed. n that #i rmber that action rlly meant a lot esp w what happened w some other old friends #i'm rlly just so overwhelmed w so many stuff rn. thinking abt anything and everything #fiction gives me comfort when i can't make sense of reality #i don't know what i want or what i can do #so i'll just drift along the tides of fate right now. perhaps the least i can do right now is be kind to myself and shift my mindset #there's no such thing as ever enough but. i'll do what i can. even if it hurts all the time. i need to #forge ahead unto tomorrow

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doitforbangchan · 1 month

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sorry if it's a little long. I love to come up with plots more than the smut part

you were just supposed to meet them backstage after a concert and get a picture. but hyunjin was obviously interested so chan asked you to stay behind, offering to drop you off since you were there alone. while they were waiting for the fans to leave, hyunjin kept talking to you and managed to get you to accept going with them to the dorms with them to chill after the concert. not the type to be able to say no easily, you accepted. you ended up drinking with them. the members tried making conversations but a tipsy hyunjin was doing all he could to keep your attention on him. after a while, the others left to sleep and since it was too late for you to go home, you had to stay over. hyunjin wanted you to sleep on his bed so you'd be comfortable and he'd be in the living room but it didn't seem fair to him. that's how you ended up in the same bed. the two of you were just talking at first but as you sobered up, things escalated between the two of you...

After party - Hyunjin

Masterlist

Idol!Hyunjin x Fan!Reader (Afab)

The pics are formatting weird and I dont know why :(

CW: Light smut, kissing, grinding, thigh riding, drinking, softdom!Hyunjin, sub!reader, cursing, anxiety (Lemme know if i missed any) Not proofread :) to my requester- I hope you enjoy please let me know what you think lovey <3

WC: 2.4k

Hyunjin was enamored by you. The second you walked backstage for your VIP picture with the group he knew he was doomed. Not only were you beautiful but so kind. You were all smiles as you greeted them each, handing them each little figures you had created for them of their Skzoo animals.

For you, this was the greatest thing to ever happen to you. You had waited so long for this, counting down the days since purchasing your ticket and backstage pass. You only expected it to be a quick meeting, get a picture maybe a hug and then be on your way. You were honestly shocked when Bangchan had invited you to hang out with them for a while.

"Did you come alone?" Chan had asked you when he noticed nobody was with you.

"Yeah, I did." You answered sheepishly, "I don't have any other friends into K-pop so I'm pretty used to attending events and concerts alone."

"It just means you have good taste." Hyunjin winked at you, and you felt the heat rush to your face as you mumbled a 'thanks'.

Hyunjin was sat next to you with his arm slung over the back of the couch you were both sitting on but he wasn't touching you. He just wanted to be close to you without being weird.

The two of you sat there for over an hour as he asked you questions about yourself, of course the other boys would chime in every now and again but generally they liked watching Hyunjin try and be cool with you. It was entertaining.

It was nearing closing for the venue and they had to leave soon, but Hyunjin didn't want this to end. He looked to Chan for a quick second with pleading eyes before he looked back at you and blurted "Do you wanna come home with us?"

You were thrown off by his sudden inquiry, "Huh?"

"Not in a gross way!" He panicked as Jisung burst into laughter watching his friend struggle. "I mean, we're headed back to our dorm and we planned on having a few drinks and hanging out. Our version of an after party. Would you like to join us?"

"Oh uhhh" you looked around at the encouraging looks from Felix and Chan, ignoring the snickering from Jisung and Seungmin. "I mean, I guess if you want me too, maybe an hour or so wouldn't hurt." You were a people pleaser and couldn't say no on a regular day, but especially not when your favorite idol asks you too.

"Perfect" He smiled brightly.

The ride over was more luxury than you were used too, even being shoved into the back of the black SUV. Perspective really was everything huh?

Once back at the dorms the boys wasted no time in getting acquainted with the bottle of tequila Minho had slyly taken from the venue. Though you kindly refused to do shots, you couldn't say no when Felix offered you a mixed drink he made you with some juice from the fridge.

Time felt like it was flying by. Before you knew it, it was nearing midnight. It was easy to loose track of time, though. Since the moment you got here Hyunjin had take it upon himself to keep you company. He had only taken two shots but he was clearly tipsy; his mild slurring and glassy eyes being a dead giveaway.

Not that you were any better, being a lightweight yourself. That's probably why it took you so long to notice the latening time.

"Shit" you cursed after checking your phone, only now noticing how late it was. "It's getting really late, I think I gotta head out."

Hyunjin looked around and noticed you two were the only ones left in the living room, the other members seemingly having gone to bed or to their own dorms. "Damn, how did we not notice how late it was?" He knew exactly how he didn't notice. You were too mesmerizing for him to want to pay attention to anything else.

"I should probably try to call an Uber." You sighed, opening your phone and praying you could get an available ride. Most Saturday nights were impossible to get a ride, since it seemed like the whole city tried to get one at the same time.

Hyunjin spoke before his brain could catch up. "Sleep in my bed tonight." He backtracked at seeing your eyes widen at his proposition. "Uhh what I mean is, it's really late and getting a ride might take hours anyway, so you could just stay here tonight if you wanted.."

"Oh umm." You bit your lip, nervously. "I don't want to be an inconvenience for you."

He shook his head in disagreement, shaggy hair bouncing at his vehement action. "It's no inconvenience, hon. Really, it would even make me feel better knowing you were here safe instead of waiting for a rando or walking home in the middle of the night."

"Aren't you kind of a rando, Hyunjin?" You had a slight tease to your voice.

"A rando who you came home with, yeah." He giggles, standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. He looked at you expectantly when you hesitated to grab his hand in return. "Come on, y/n. You can take my bed and I'll take the couch tonight. No objections!"

You shyly took his hand in yours, giving up on trying to leave knowing he was right.

You found yourself unable to sleep. It has easily been 40 minutes since Hyunjin had made his bed for you and wished you goodnight, and you couldn't stop thinking of just how you ended up in this situation.

You only meant to get a picture with your favorite K-pop group- nothing more nothing less. It's what you had paid for, at least. Never in your life would you have imagined this is where you would be at the end of the night. In Hwang Hyunjins bed. The sheets smelled of him, the silk holding onto both his natural scent and traces of his expensive cologne. Honestly it was quite sobering, your buzz fading by the minute.

As if his ears were ringing, the bedroom door slowly creaks open to reveal Hyunjin, peeking in curiously. The only light in the room was the soft glow of the moon shining through his window. It was just enough for him to be able to make out your still figure in his bed.

"Pssst" his voice was a whisper, "are you awake?" He didn't want to wake you if you were sleeping so he kept his tone low.

"Yeah." You whispered back, equally as soft. "Are you ok?"

He shuffled close to you in the room, "Uh yeah, it's just that.. the couch is really uncomfortable."

"Oh, uh" You stammed, "I can go to the couch so you can have your bed back."

You went to remove yourself from his bed but he stopped you, his hand finding your shoulder to keep you in place, "Well I was thinking, if you didn't mind, I could just stay in here with you."

You blinked in surprise, contemplating it for a moment. He wasn't slurring his speech anymore so you knew his tipsiness was wearing off. " I guess that would be ok." You slowly scooted further into the bed, giving him space to climb under the covers with you.

He situated himself under the warm blankets and turned his body to face you. Now you were both looking at each other through the dim light.

"I do appreciate you coming and hanging out with us tonight." He breathed out, breaching the silence.

You balked, "Are you kidding? You brought me into your home, and now you're letting me in your bed! This whole night has been incredible, really. I should be the one thanking you." You said in a hushed tone, fighting back the urge to word vomit your appreciation.

Hyunjin chucked, "No need to thank me." He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, gathering his nerves. "If I'm being honest, something about you had immediately caught my attention the second you walked backstage to meet us. You were so... Captivating. And sweet. Those little Skzoo minis you made for us are so cute and I can tell you took your time to make them for us. I knew I wanted to know you more." He reached for your hand in the dark and you tentatively let him grab it and laced your fingers together.

Your face was burning hot at his confession. Honestly you were at a loss for words. You hadn't considered yourself special in anyway. Sweet- maybe. But captivating? Never. It was a whirlwind of emotions. You didn't doubt that he was speaking his truth, more so your heart didn't want to believe it.

As if sensing your inner turmoil he gave you a shy grin to ease your mind, "I understand if you don't feel the same. I know it's crazy to spring that kind of thing on someone you just met."

"No its not that!" You protested louder than intended, before sheepishly lowering your voice back to a whisper. " This is all very surreal to me, right now. This isn't how I imagined my night would be, but I am so glad it did. I really liked getting to know you guys, especially you... Who may or may not be my bias." You hid your eyes behind your hand.

You tried to tug your other hand from his grasp but he held on, tighter now after your confession.

"Oh, I'm your bias, huh?" You could hear the smirk on his face as his confidence grew exponentially. You turned your head at buried it into the pillow, unable to meet his gaze.

"Don't be mean." you mumbled.

"I would never dream of being mean to you, sweetheart. You're the one who can't even look at your bias. So really you're the mean one here, angel."

You took a peek at him to see his signature pout gracing his features, the dumpling shape of his lips making you want to bite them.

"You're lucky you're pretty" You huffed, feeling his other hand reach for your waist and pull you closer. You held back a squeal at his action.

"You think I'm pretty?" He abandoned his pout for a boyish grin.

"Mhm" you responded, so quietly he almost missed it.

"Well, between you and me, angel," He leaned in closer to your face, eyes flickering back and forth between your lips and eyes, "I think you're prettier."

The singer left you room to deny his advances, but when you made no move to get away he gently pressed his soft lips against your own. You felt your eyes close on impact, and sighed into him as he swept his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. Once you parted for him and allowed him entry into your mouth he let out a low moan; the sound coming from somewhere in the back of his throat.

You fisted his shirt when he let go of your hand, instead his found purchase cupping your cheeks as he deepened the kiss even further. His body pressed as close to you as he could get, letting himself get drunk on your taste as he sobered from the alcohol.

You whimpered when he wedged one of his thighs between yours, the strong muscle creating a friction on your clothes center.

"Mm I liked that sound. I wanna hear you sing more pretty melodies for me, angel." He retracted his lips from yours, choosing to instead pepper smooches down your neck. He ground his thigh into you, eliciting another whimper.

Hyunjin sucked a mark onto your flesh, the extra stimulation causing you to buck your hips, seeking more. "Hyuuunnee"

"That's it baby, ride my thigh. Fuck, I can feel you soaking through both of our clothes, angel." He really means his clothes, as he had given you a pair of sleep shorts to wear. He sped up his movements, the grinding getting harsher against your core.

Your clit was rubbing so deliciously against your panties, and you definitely knew with how much you were dripping for him that he was telling the truth. You couldn't believe how worked up you were getting, already on the verge of cumming and you hadn't even been really touched yet.

His hand traveled down to the hem of your shirt, and he pushed it up to reveal your braless chest. He let out a groan of his own at the sight. "You not wear a bra for me, angel? Being a naughty girl?"

You moaned when he latched his mouth onto the skin of your tit, "Mmmmm, no Hyun. Jus' can't sleep in it." one of your hands found his hair.

"I don't think that's true, angel." He said it between nips to your flesh, "I think you wanted me to come in here and ravish you." He nipped particularly hard and you gasped. "Bet you were laying here, soaking in your panties waiting for me, huh?" He switched to your other breast.

Your panting was getting harsher, getting closer and closer to cumming on his thigh. "Hyune, m' gonna..gonna..."

"Gonna cum, pretty girl? Gonna make a mess for me, hmm?" You nodded as best you could, "Go ahead, angel. Hyun's got you." At his permission you let go, a soft cry escaping you as you shook against him. The whole time he kept steady in his grinding, working you through your orgasm. "Fuck, you're even prettier when you cum, oh my god. Prettier than a painting."

When the shocks of pleasure faded into over stimulation you tried to give him a light push to signal him to stop. He took the hint and slowly ended his grinding. Your breathing was heavy and your pupils were blown wide, the sight enough for him to crave you even more if that was possible.

Keeping eye contact with you, he gingerly reached into the front of your (his) shorts, his long fingers finding your dripping wetness and collecting some of it onto the pads of his fingers. You bleated a moan at the contact of him sweeping through your wet folds.

You almost came again when Hyunjin removed his fingers from your pussy and brought the shiny digits up to his mouth. He groaned and his eyes rolled to the back of his head when he sucked your essence off his skin.

"Fuck angel, you really are sweet." He was quick to flip you onto your back, causing you to squeal. "Gotta be quiet, sweet girl." He scooted down your body, pulling your bottoms and panties down with him. "Can't have the boys coming in here while I'm eating my new favorite treat, right angel?"

A/n: Yesssss I know its not full smut, but honestly i liked the it this way. i think it fits better :) I hope you enjoy please let me know if you did

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

#stray kids #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #requested

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

Text

who could stay?

alexia x r

r is struggling with her anxiety. Alexia wants nothing more than to help. Will r let her?

CW for panic attacks / general depictions of anxiety.

Alexia knew something was up with you. Recently, you'd been attached at the hip to her. This wasn't something she minded, not at all, it was just quite out of character for you. You'd responded to her attempts to figure out what was wrong with tight lipped smiles, and clear lies that you were fine. You looked exhausted, which she didn't understand. You spent most nights at her apartment, and there was no indication that you weren't sleeping, yet the bags under your eyes only darkened. You made no indication that you wanted to speak to her about what was wrong, but luckily, she caught you getting out of bed one night.

Alright, she didn't catch you getting out of bed, but she rolled over, half asleep, looking for you to snuggle up against, eyes snapping open when she found your side of the bed empty. Still warm, but empty. She was instantly awake, and worried. She first looked to the bathroom, but the light was off, the door ajar. There was no light flowing in from the hallway, but she headed that way anyway, not sure where else you would be.

Entering the living room, she could just barely make you out on the couch, head in your hands, body seemingly shuddering with every breath.

"Amor?" she called softly, flicking on the light as she did so. Your head snapped up, wild eyes meeting hers. Your eyes were red, and tear tracks stained your cheeks. Alexia moved to your side quickly, crouching down in front of you. "Hey, amor, what is wrong?"

"No-nothing. I'm fine. Go ba-back to sleep, Ale," you gasped out. Alexia frowned in response, making no move to do as you said.

"Mi vida, why are you out here? Why did you not wake me?" Alexia was confused. She'd seemed to have found the root of why you looked so exhausted, but she still wasn't sure why she found you crying, by yourself on the living room couch, in the middle of the night.

You were quickly losing the ability to speak, though, something that Alexia picked up on. "What can I do?" she asked, begged really. She hated seeing you like this, hated not being able to help. In response, having clearly given up on trying to force her to go to bed, you gripped onto her forearm, your desire obvious. She moved up onto the couch, pulling you securely into her chest. Your ear was pressed right over her heart, and you tried to calm down, listening to the steady beats.

"Shh, you are okay, bonita, I've got you," Alexia soothed, and you tried to focus on her words. You were okay. You were safe. You were with Alexia. You were clinging onto her quite hard, and she held you with equal force. "Breath for me, amorcita, in and out, just like that."

Alexia's voice was comforting, and she talked you through the worst of the panic attack, only pulling away once you're breathing was almost normal.

"Thank you," you told her, eyes downcast.

"Of course," she paused, not really sure what to ask first. "How long has this been going on?"

"Only a week," you replied, and Alexia sighed in response.

"A week of waking in the middle of the night like this, and you did not get me once?"

"I didn't want to bother you, Ale,"

"You are not capable of bothering me," the midfielder argued, but she took a breath, not wanting to get frustrated when you were clearly still so upset. "Is something causing it?"

You stayed silent.

"Amorcita, please let me in. I want to help, I do not like seeing you so upset," Alexia begged.

"I stopped taking my anxiety medication," you admitted.

"Porque?" Alexia questions, looking stunned. You shrug. "Porque, amor?" Alexia asks again.

"I don't like relying on it. It messes with my mood, and I just don't want it anymore, I don't need it."

"Clearly, you do need it. There is nothing wrong with needing to take something for your anxiety, y/n." Alexia states, trying to keep her voice even. "Did you talk to your doctor about going off?"

"No," you reply, voice small.

"Amor, come on. That is not safe,"

"It's fine, Alexia, please just leave it," you respond, trying to sound firmer than you felt.

"No, I will not. I care about you, and I do not like it when you are unkind to yourself. You deserve to feel good everyday, and if medication helps you feel that, then you should take it. You are going to talk to your doctor, go back on your meds, and if you want to change something with them, you will do it under the supervision of a medical professional. Entiendes?"

"Si," you respond quietly, and Alexia is surprised at how quickly you give up. Your dropping eyes tell her why, though, and she drops her stern attitude.

"Venga, mi vida, let's go back to bed." You allow her to guide you back into bed, but clearly, you you think she's still mad at you, because you lay on the edge of your side of the bed, as far from her as you could get. You feel her pull on your shirt, and you turn, eyes watery. Alexia is laying facing you, arms open, a soft look on her face, and you waste no time scooting over into her warm embrace.

"I want you to talk to me, mi amor. When you are anxious, I want you to tell me, so I can help," Alexia whispers into your hair.

"I hate bothering you."

"Listen to me, por favor. You could never bother me, especially not when you're sharing your feelings with me. Vale?"

"Okay." You allow, after considering for a minute.

"Do you think you can go to sleep?"

You shrug. "I'm still kind of anxious," you mumble. Alexia presses a kiss into your hair, sliding her hand under your shirt, and beginning to run her nails up and down your back. She feels you relax more against her.

"There you go, amor. Just focus on the feeling of my hand on you. Everything is okay," she promises.

"Love you," you murmur, words almost lost in the fabric of her shirt.

"Te amo mucho, bonita." Alexia responds, only letting herself fall asleep once she was sure you had first.

-----

The first time you do as Alexia asked, and tell her when you're feeling anxious, is only a few days later. You're back on your medication, having met with your psychiatrist, who agreed to look into other options, so long as you went back on the current one for now. It was still an adjustment, though, and you were still significantly more anxious than normal. Alexia had taken to holding you tight against her while you both slept, which had worked in 2 ways. You hadn't woken up having a panic attack, and even if you had, you wouldn't have been able to slip out of bed without her noticing.

You've both returned from practice, and Alexia is in the kitchen, making a snack, when you decide that you are feeling to uneasy to sit and wait for her. Being in physical contact with her was one of the only things that was always successful in calming you down. Entering the kitchen, you quietly pad over to Alexia, wrapping your arms around her abdomen, and resting your head against her back. She stills her movements, cutting up strawberries, and puts the knife down, placing her hands over yours.

"Hola," she says quietly.

"Hi," you respond, voice shakier than you would have preferred.

"Everything okay?" she asks carefully, aware that it is not, but wanting you to come to her.

"No," you say. You mean to follow it up with something else, but your throat feels tight, as you swallow back tears, and you can't get another word out. Alexia doesn't need more, though, turning around and holding you tight against her chest, swaying you both back and forth lightly. You let out a shaky breath, feeling yourself already calming slightly.

"Thank you for telling me," Alexia says, aware of what a big step that simple word had been for you. "Can I do anything?"

"I don’t know," you admit, words dripping with vulnerability.

“That is okay. I’ve got you." She reassures, guiding your head away from her neck, and pressing her forehead to hers. Your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh. After a few moments, you pull away, feeling somewhat calmer. You only make it as far as Alexia’s arms allow, as she isn’t letting go.

“Make your snack, Ale,” you instruct, but she simply shakes her head, manhandling you into the position she wants you in. Once she has you stood in front of her, arms wrapped around her body, she resumes her snack preparations, looking over your shoulder as she cuts the fruit.

You chuckle lightly into her at her ridiculousness, but she ignores you, not letting you move from your spot nestled against her.

“We’re becoming that couple, Alexia. The annoyingly clingy couple.”

“No me importa. I like you clingy.” She declares, shuffling the both of you across the kitchen to put the strawberries back in the fridge. By the time she’s put the snack in a bowl, not letting you even an inch away from her, you’re both laughing.

Finally, she lets you go, smiling triumphantly at your significantly more relaxed behavior. She places a strawberry piece into your mouth, pecking your lips lightly.

“Better?”

“Yeah. So much better.” You promise, returning her soft smile.

“Bueno!” She replies, before taking the bowl in one large hand, and scooping you up and over her shoulder in the other. Her strength impresses you, but still, you squirm slightly as she carries you into the living room towards the couch.

“Alexia!! You’re being absurd” you laugh, and she playfully smacks your ass with the hand holding onto you. “Alexia Putellas Segura, put me down!”

Arriving at the couch, she tosses you easily down, and you bounce slightly. She’s looking down at you with a smirk, and you can’t help your lips tugging into a matching one. Just when you think she’s going to be normal again, she sprawls herself on top of you, larger body enveloping yours, as she shifts around making herself comfortable.

“No room for you to be anxious now, amor.” She says matter of factly, and you wrap your arms around her. It sounds absurd, but really, she’s right. Her weight on you is the perfect amount of pressure, and the smell of her perfume invading your senses slows your heartbeat easily.

Alexia reaches over to the table grabbing both the remote and bowl in her hand, making her intention to not get off of you clear.

“I like you clingy too.” You mumble, and the blonde offers you another strawberry. Your hands busy holding onto her, so you open your mouth, rolling your eyes, as she places it carefully in your mouth. You aren’t annoyed, not at all. You didn’t know what you needed before, but Alexia did. She always did.

----

The next time you ask Alexia for help, it’s a much bigger hit to your pride. You’ve just gotten into a fight, which ended with Alexia storming out of the house to “go on a drive and clear her head.”

It was a stupid fight; both of you thought the other was taking on too much at Barca and your respective national teams, and the lack of time together had been taking its toll. Frustrated, and really just missing each other, you’d gotten into an argument about which of you was too busy. It was both of you. Neither of you were ever people to give up, or step away, even when it was for the best, so you took your exhaustion and frustration out on each other.

You know both of you just need to calm down, and you would have given her the space to do so. Only, the minute she walks out of the house, you begin spiraling. You panic in a way that is completely disproportionate to the situation, but you can’t help it. She’s mad at you and you hate when she’s mad at you.

You need to do something to stop your panic. Your psychiatrist has decided on a new medication plan, in which you are on a lower dose of everyday meds, and take an as needed medication when you’re feeling extra anxious.

This is one of those times, you realize, as you shakily unscrew the bottle, and realize that it’s empty. You’d forgotten to pick up the refill earlier in the week, when you’d woken up anxious, and taken the last pill half asleep.

Cursing under your breath, you go to the bedroom, sitting down in the dimly lit room, and trying to do the breathing exercises you’d been practicing. It’s futile though, you’re already too far gone for that to work. You need either Alexia, or your medication.

You think about the conversations you’ve had with her over the past weeks, in which she assured you, over and over, that she would always be there to help you when you needed her. You aren’t really sure if she meant for you to talk to her when she was mad at you, though.

Deciding that you don’t really have a choice, you pull out your phone, clicking your girlfriend’s contact. You’ll just ask her to pick up your new prescription from the pharmacy, not to come help you. You don’t expect her to do anymore than that, not right now.

To her credit, she answers after only a couple rings, although her voice is still sharp.

“Sí?” She asks, not bothering to greet you, a sign of how upset she is.

“Alexia,” you say, not able to hide the relief you feel at the sound of her voice. You’re breathing heavily now, and you have to pause before you say anything else.

“What is it?” She asks, shifting to a more concerned tone.

“Get my refill of my meds?” You manage.

“Joder, yes, I will go now.” She answers, and you can hear the tires screeching as she makes what is probably an unsafe u-turn. Clearly, Alexia understands what’s going on with you, and it makes you feel better, if only slightly, that she doesn’t sound as mad anymore, just worried.

“Sorry,” you stutter, feeling bad for interrupting her time alone.

“No, it is okay,” she dismisses. “I will be there in 10.”

With that, she hangs up. You lean your head back against the bed, gripping the soft carpet under you in your hands. Shutting your eyes, it feels like only minutes have passed when you hear the front door open, and Alexia call out for you.

“Up here,” you yell out shakily. Alexia’s footsteps pound on the stairs as she races up them, bursting into your room and ruining the peaceful atmosphere that had been in place. She looks almost as upset as you feel, as she crosses the room in 3 long strides, grabbing a glass of water from your nightstand, and quickly getting out a pill.

She watches you take it, eyebrows knit together as she takes in your labored breathing. After a second of thought, she settles down next to you, leaving you the option of scooting closer to her.

“You can go, it’s okay.” You tell her, assuming she doesn’t want to comfort you, not when you just had a fight. Her tone tells you otherwise.

“Do not be stupid, I am not leaving.”

“But you needed to—“

“And you need me.” She says simply, as if you’re the only thing that matters. It dawns on you that maybe you are. You meet her eyes, then, and see nothing but love reflecting back at you. Not anger, not frustration, none of the things present before she’d stormed out. Convinced, you lean into her, resting your head on her shoulder. You allow yourself to forget about the fight, push all your worries from your brain, as you focus on your breathing, and steady, dependable Alexia next to you.

“Did you really think I would leave you like this?” The blonde asks quietly after a minute.

“You were mad. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d wanted to go.”

Alexia scoffs. “I love you more than I could ever be mad at you. If you need me, I will be here. No matter what.”

It’s not the first time you’ve heard this from her, but it’s the first time you really believe it. Maybe Alexia was telling the truth. Maybe there really wasn’t anything you could do to push her away, scare her off. She’d stuck with you through all the things you thought she wouldn’t, holding your hand, softly kissing your cheek through everything thrown your way.

It was overwhelming, the love you felt from her in that moment. You often felt like you couldn’t put into words how much you loved Alexia, but this was the first time that you’ve really been convinced that she loves you just as much as you love her.

You look up at her, eyes glassy, mouth opening and closing as you try to figure out what to say, how to express what you feel for her.

“What, amor?” She questions softly. Her eyebrows are scrunched again, and this time you aren’t panicking, and you can appreciate how cute it is, the way her worry for you is painted clearly across her face.

“I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Alexia, I really don’t. You’re- you’re everything to me. Everything.” You whisper back.

Alexia’s face melts, all the tension leaving her, as she grabs your face in her hands, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. You fall into it, the feeling of her lips moving desperately, but gently, against your own.

As you kiss her, you think you’ve maybe defined it, how much she means to you. Alexia is everything. Everything you could ever want or need.

——-

This wasn’t a request, just something I decided to write when I was anxious. I hope you guys like it anyway.

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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