#kindness in a world that was unkind. kindness in a Body that was unkind. being soft when you're built for violence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

millerscoffee · 10 months

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dancing is a dangerous game | part one

you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars.

5.5k | joel miller x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

tw: brief mentions of using your body for trading purposes, you shoot at joel miller????, light dub-con but that goes away quickly

warnings: post-outbreak au. no ellie. angsty smut, semi-dom!reader and dom!joel so that's fun, power struggle, age gap (joel is 56, reader is late 20s or early 30s), enemies to lovers, voyeurism (f watching m), masturbation (m and f), pet names/degrading names (baby, honey, darlin', brat, bitch, slut, etc.), dirty talk, choking, oral (m receiving), fingering, spanking, p in v (unprotected - wrap it up folks), joel is mean but not unkind. no use of y/n.

summary: inspired by "cowboy by me" by our lord and savior taylor swift. this is a post-outbreak world and joel has his own land. think bill, but a little less... deranged. kind of. you essentially are a raider, but make it fashion. when you stalk joel's cabin for the third day, that's when you get interrogated by none other than joel miller himself.

A/N: hi, i'm bee! this is my first fic on tumblr, and my first stab at this whole stratosphere. longtime listener; first time caller 💅. i was ALSO inspired by an ask i saw on @swiftispunk's page (hi! i love your writing sm??) and kinda just... ran with it. i honestly wasn't anticipating writing stuff during the outbreak, so i apologise if it's not quite right. imagine me living during that time with a tube of lipgloss and one (1) bullet in my pocket just in case. this... may be a series. i don't know yet. see ya! enjoy!!!

The first time you meet Joel Miller is down the barrel of your gun.

You can hear your father's voice telling you 'Back out, girl. Don't get too big for your britches.' Look where that got him. His ashes against your chest in a makeshift pendant necklace, buried by your clothes.

Still, you listen.

"It don't have to be like this," you drawl with index over the trigger guard. You've heard of him. Joel Miller. He's notorious, and even though you've kept to yourself most of your life, his name still roamed throughout the abandoned towns you passed. Someone always owed him, and he always owed somebody.

Your dad would've been older than him, but not by much. You knew of the world before this, was just a little thing. Still, you heard stories undulate from your father's southern voice that mostly left you bored on long days searching for food or shelter. You'd give anything to hear them now.

Part of you died when he did.

You were young when the outbreak happened. Resourceful, your father made it work in raising you. Taught you how to fend for yourself, rely on no one. Which was no easy feat considering how unbelievably stubborn you were. Were? Are.

Maybe he loved you. Maybe it was the chip on his shoulder. The kind of anguish that comes from not being able to give your mother the same kind of life. A promise to her.

Yes, you were young when the outbreak happened, but flashbacks of her getting attacked by a clicker burn you alive at night.

"Y'er on my land." A gruff voice calls you back to reality. Few words for someone who held your life in his hands. His own gun pointing back at you. Of course it would be.

"I was just passin' through." The lie flies through your teeth. You had been circling the place from a reasonable distance for a few days now. Scoping out when this man in front of you was his busiest, when he patrolled, when he slept. This was a heist situation, no doubt about it.

"Bullshit. This s'the third fuckin' time I seen you 'round here. And it's y'er last."

Shit. Fucking shit.

Your eyes dart to the side, really trying to pattern a plan in escaping but your breathing would say otherwise as calm and collected as it was.

In any other situation, you wouldn't be so willing to comply, but considering he's got you cornered and his gun is quite literally cocked and ready to go – you're not exactly in the position to make hasty decisions.

Goddammit if there wasn't something about him that made you nervous.

"Listen. Just was lookin' for somewhere to sleep. It's fuckin' cold and your stables look warm." Your head tilts in the direction of a lone horse's home in a bed of hay, and you're not fully lying. It's not that you have set up camp by any means, but you've noticed.

"We could trade. You give me y'er ammo, and I g–"

"You give me your cock, I get it. You really could be more original." You were used to this. Bartering, some might call it. Living out here on your own was dangerous, and running into men who wanted to use your body in order to get supplies wasn't that uncommon. If they were that kind, even. You'd heard the horror stories.

Albeit, most of these men met your gun in the end. Enabling you acquire their supplies, keep all yours, and your dignity. Win/win.

"...I give you the pleasure of livin' another day. Really? Y'think it's that easy?"

There was something in the way Joel says this that makes you grateful for the jacket you're wearing. Goosebumps prickle your skin, bile creeping up your throat and you will it back down again. Y'think it's that easy? As if he thought you wanted it.

If circumstances were different, you'd be rubbing the crimson off your cheeks. Flashing him a sheepish grin in an attempt to resolve whatever misunderstanding there was... but this wasn't the environment to elicit such conversation.

And you weren't that type of person to begin with.

Instead, your index sweeps from guard to trigger when you fire off at his leg. Hasty decisions be damned. You're quicker than him, so why're you tryin' to save him? You're a 'shoot to kill' type of person, and as the bullet grazes past his calf – part of you wishes you had.

Because not only did your bullet not make contact, Joel gets worse. You two lock eyes. His rifle is thrown over his shoulder as he grunts and walks perfectly fine over to you – despite the way his eyebrows knit together, jaw ticked. Was that a grin? Do something, anything – run.

Joel grips the nape of your neck, and you yelp in surprise.

Who the fuck does this man think he is?

His large hand eclipses your wrist as he maneuvers the gun from your hand. The action makes you writhe in pain, and it sends a shiver down your spine to know he's only using an ounce of his power.

You dig your elbow into his ribs despite him stronger than you. Stomping, kicking, punching anything you can find.

"What the fu–"

"Little girl, you picked the wrong one." His breath edges at the shell of your ear, and every sign should be pointing for you to hate this, but it almost feels familiar. Like yourself. It's only then when you worry.

---

You don't realise it, but Joel is pushing you inside his cabin. Keeping your head in direction of the ground, thud of the door heard somewhere behind you.

"You want to be treated like a big girl? Get these fuckin' pants off."

"What... what? No I'm fuckin' not–"

Joel chews up the space between you when he pushes you to the nearest wall. Your back at his chest, a cheek flush against the cabin's support.

Pine, tobacco, and whiskey fill your senses and you bite back the urge to whimper. He wouldn't see you like that.

"You're not? That why you were watchin' me jerk off last night? 'Cuz you don't wanna give it up?"

That alone makes blood creep up your neck and spill over your cheeks. You have to squeeze your legs together to quell the ache.

It was lonely on your own.

Most nights were spent half asleep on a cold, hard surface. Tired and hungry more days than not. You don't remember the last time you got a hot meal, much less been touched. So when you heard Joel's low grunts coming from the window (a window from a cabin you don't know quite yet that he built with his own hands) you become intrigued.

It's in this moment you're certain it must have been the rustling of branches just outside his room. You remember it happening last night, cursing to yourself for making noise. His fist stalled around the girth of his fat cock before spilling his seed over his stomach. As if that is what caused him to come.

It makes sense now, and it equally causes you to become dizzy and filled with rage. You bite your bottom lip, unable to think of a response.

"Mouthy thing ain't got much to say now. Now c'mon. I ain't taking these off you, doin' it y'erself." More of a warning, Joel lets up on his grip on you, but you're defenseless. No weapons, no pack. He's got your world in his hands.

With the newly found space between the two of you, you turn around – back of your head against the wall as your eyes find the other set for, perhaps, the first time. And they're deep. Deeper than you were aware of. Dark, impossibly round. Wrinkles reside on the sides of them, and if you knew any better, you wouldn't admit they were doing something to you.

But not only are you stubborn, you're too forthright to beat around the bush.

"I shot at you, and you want my cunt? You must be lonelier than I a–"

"Now."

Your words don't match your actions as your hands fall by your sides. Fingers play with zipper of your old, faded jeans that have seen better days.

You can't help but snicker an awkward laugh from how he's just watching you. Insecurities rise when you realise you're not laughing at him, but more his eyes on you. How intense it feels suddenly. He wants this. Wants you.

His eyes draw impatiently, broad frame leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed.

"Ain't got all day. Still considerin' your death."

His arms. Bulging through the fabric of his shirt, his body was built in a way that you could tell he worked with his hands... maybe in his past life, too. Throat dry, you shimmy out of your pants until you're left in your cotton panties.

Ones that you are becoming more aware the condition of. A small pool of wetness forming at the core of you clings to the fabric.

"Top, too."

Is that? It is. Your eyes wander down to see the growing bulge in Joel's pants. Not even the hem of his flannel could hide it. Sure, you'd seen it in its full form the night before, but that was with distance and without the heat rising between the two of you.

You bite your lip without hesitation, pulling the layers of jacket and a handful of tops onto the ground until you're bare. The cool air passes over your nipples and wills them into stiff peaks.

"Ain't you somethin', baby."

That's the first time Joel Miller draws a shaky exhale out of you. All from a single sentence.

When Joel steps over to you, that calm and collected breath is nowhere to be found. Your chest rises and falls at a random pattern, feeling more and more naked by the second as his clothes are completely kept on his body. A purposeful tactic.

He bends down to collect your clothes along with everything else that yours, and you are truly at his will. So busy on the precipice of pleasure that you don't even think about trying to get away.

"Stay."

"Ain't a dog." You glare, standing with your legs brushing together.

"Then quit actin' like a bitch. And quit movin', I'm gettin' to you."

It shuts you up quick, jaw snapping shut. You're certain if he told that to anyone else they'd be reduced to tears, but you can take it. It coils a heat inside the pit of your stomach that you've never felt. Causes your clit to feel as if it's on fire from the need to touch it.

Joel turns on his heel to walk away and it's as if you're able to breathe fresh air from the humidity he brings. You notice he's putting your things and his rifle away on his kitchen counter before coming back to you. He must really trust his ability to keep everything out like that.

Then again, have you even moved in the last five minutes?

The last thing he is, is worried.

You're able to look around, if only for a moment. Though, is it really looking? Your adrenaline is pumping, pupils blown from the fact that not only are you in the house you'd been stalking... you're about to fuck the man in it. And you almost tried to kill him. You definitely didn't miss on purpose. Couldn't have.

All the same, the cabin was nice, and you could take in briefly the light wood – old and weathered. A record player in the corner beside a guitar. This stuff could get you a lot in return, but for whatever reason that doesn't even cross your mind. Maybe your heart beating in your ears is a handy distraction to keep you walking the line.

Your eyes track the rugged man instead.

---

"Here's how this is gonna go," he announces, coming back to you and not phased that you haven't moved a muscle. "You are gonna take your ass over there on the couch. You're gonna make me come, then you're gonna go. Understand?"

"Well... I guess it is that easy."

Your bratty mouth getting you in trouble again. As if you're in the position to say anything. Naked as you are.

---

Joel's jaw ticks forward in a way that makes you feel fear, yet there's a direct correlation between it and the slick gathering between your folds. The same wide hand that gripped the nape of your neck wraps around the front of your throat while he pushes you against the wall, and your shoulders slump – all but folding instantly.

His mouth is inches from yours, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"Listen here. I've been real kind to you. Coulda killed ya day one, tryin' to steal my shit like that. Was gonna be real kind in where I fucked ya, too. Now we're gonna fix that mouth a'yours and fast. Knees. Now." You soon come to know this isn't a suggestion. It's not even a warning. It is what's happening.

It's in the way Joel's hands guide you down onto your knees. He goes for his belt and you hear and see that distinct clang of metal untangle before your very senses. Your mouth waters instantly, teetering into fully giving into this struggle of power.

Joel's hands are calloused. You can tell he takes care of them, but that doesn't hide the wear and tear. Specifically on his fingertips. They grip your jaw roughly, and you choke back a moan as your mouth hangs open pliantly from this. Every nerve ending buzzing to be touched.

"Where'd that bratty girl go, huh? You done bein' big and bad – wanna be a slut, don’tcha?"

Your eyelash splay along your cheeks as you nod, and you feel his grip tighten, tugging your chin up higher.

"Look at me. You want this cock? I need your words. Tell me you wanna be a slut."

You're not sure when it happens, but hot tears run down your cheeks as everything comes to a head. Your body is trembling with raw desire right at your fingertips, just within reach. You can't hold back anymore, it physically hurts to.

"I wanna be a slut for this cock... please."

"Fuck, even a please. Oughta eat you out for that, sugar. Maybe next time."

Your brain is swimming at the thought. Next time?

With his free hand, Joel sets his cock free from his jeans, giving a satisfying smack to his abdomen quickly. No need for another piece of fabric keeping him from getting what he wants as you soon take note he isn't wearing boxers.

There's no denying what you're met with as you get to view it from this close. Joel Miller has a pretty cock. There's a soft, but bulging vein on the underside to match how big and thick it is. The rosy tip greets you, and it's the first time you get to see how much you've turned him on.

Your mouth is drooling while it's pried open and meets the tip of him. A moan from you is instantaneous, yet feels so distant from yourself, it doesn't affect you until much later. The taste of his precum coats your tongue as he slips past your lips and it's all you can experience. Your moans slip in and out of the sloshing sounds of your mouth. Keeping your hands by your sides, you don't tempt to touch him in fear he would pull away, so instead you twirl your tongue around his leaking head. Bob your head up and down in a slow, but sultry rhythm that causes him curse under his breath. He's not stoic above you, he's reacting.

He's clawing for every last bit of the upper hand.

"S'a lot, innit, babygirl? That's alright, you can take it." It's then you can sense Joel's guard slipping. Could be the fact that your mouth is suctioned perfectly around the length of his cock, but his voice gets damn sweeter the longer you go like this. His hips also have no problem in thrusting shallowly every now and then to knock the drool off of your dripping chin.

Even if you could form a thought, you don't know you would.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it out of your face as you maintain eye contact. Intuitive in your approach, he told you to look at him earlier, so maybe he likes it? The groans filling the room lead you to believe you are correct. It feels so removed from who you were moments before: snickering because his gaze felt intimidating. Now, his pupils are blown as they pour into yours and his neck hangs back when your mouth makes those pretty, sloppy popping noises – testing your gag reflexes as you will them to relax.

It's way more intimate than anything you've ever done with anyone you've ever been with, and this stranger is pulling it out of you. Within the mess your brain is in, you remind yourself if you want to stop you can, and not a bit of you does.

The hot tears that were once down your cheeks swell in your eyes once more, but this time from the sheer size of him. You moan vibration after vibration against him, shifting and pushing your cunt against your calf, thigh – anything to feel some sort of friction.

He lets out a growl when he notices you, "Honey, if it's that bad, touch yourself." If your cheeks weren't red before, they are now.

It's him calling you out, slight embarrassingly, but not letting up with his hips. It's the way the embarrassment builds the fire in the pit of your belly. It's your hand pushing inside your panties at the sound of his command. And it's you practically choking on his cock from the gasp you let out through your nose – stunned at how wet you are.

Your fingertips barely brush over your clit when you notice the slick collecting, bubbling right at the very top of your slit and slutty moans fall out of you. Your eyelids droop as you try to keep your gaze up to Joel, but the way your fingertips roll over the hood of your clit in satisfying circles sends you over the edge way quicker than you anticipate.

"Shit, baby. Just like that. You filthy thing, can't hold off another minute longer, can ya? Need it right fuckin' now."

The sound of Joel's deep voice looms overhead as you come completely undone.

Unable to stop yourself, the suction on his cock pops free for a moment. Your moans hitting the air as your eyes roll back. Your body rushing to find each wave of pleasure roll off your back. Joel's cock still nestled in your mouth, but his hips still. "Goddamn, look at that little slut come out. Such a needy fuckin' kitten."

When Joel makes sure you've ridden it out, he pulls his cock from your mouth. Your body feels weak despite how eager your mind is now, face-to-face with Joel's cock, you watch as his scarred hand glides your saliva over his length entirely. It puts you in a trance, quickly getting out of it when he taps his cock against your cheek. "Pretty kitten want this? C'mon."

If your moans felt foreign to you, you don't even know what to do with yourself at the twinge of a grin that spreads on your face. The sheer audacity of his taps right against your fucking cheek. Orgasm-drunk, you shuffle to your feet and Joel has no problem in tossing you – finally – to the couch.

Your back is to him while the front of your body brackets the width of his couch, arms hunched over the back of it, knees dig into the cushions. You're grateful for the lack of eye contact in this position as it gives you a moment to press your face into your bicep, an attempt to collect yourself. But all of it obsolete when you sense Joel's presence at your ass.

His body heat unmistakable to miss. You bite at your own skin, neck craning to behind you to watch him.

"Shit, darlin', look at you. Ass up like this like y'er in fuckin' heat for me." You whine at the fact his clothes are still mostly on, and you know he must be sweating underneath them, but he won't give it to you like that. Not yet, 'maybe next time'. "You know I can't go any further 'til you get a spankin'. Need to be punished for tryin' to hurt me like that. For tryin' to take my things. Ain't right. Need you to learn your lesson."

Where are you? A part of you knows this is a tactic. That Joel is lulling you into a position you can't say no to. It already shows itself in how you're splayed on his couch. Yet, you can't find the person you were before you stepped into the cabin. Not yet, not like this. You nod weakly, and Joel swipes the cotton undies down to your thighs so quickly the rush of air cools the heat of your folds. A flutter runs through you.

"Count. To ten. If you don't, we start over. Say, yes sir."

"Y-yes... sir. Yes sir."

A searing, mind-numbing spank wallops over your ass and it causes your hips to jut forward. Whimper hitting the top of your throat, you almost, almost, forget to count. Everything in your senses distracting you from completing the simplest tasks such as fucking counting.

"O-one." Another. "Twooo." And again. "Th-three!"

You start sniffling by the third smack of his wide hand, and you hear mocking sniffs behind your head. "Aww, pretty baby can't take the hurt she tries to give to others? That must be really tough. Y'heart's bleedin' all over my couch, honey."

Your cheeks burn, you really feel sorry for what you've done. Or at least, what you were planning to do.

The next spank leaves a welt of Joel's handprint across your skin. "FOUR!" Your body begins to feel weak, sliding against the couch, you know talking back is useless as you silent tears stream into your arm.

There are six more blinding slaps to your ass by the time he's done with you, and you feel him pull back when he's through. You imagine him wringing his palms, the roughness of them. You begin to wonder if that's how they got to be so weathered, and pretend not to be weirded out by the ache of jealousy.

"Y'know for somebody whinin' the whole time, your pussy is just droolin' from that," any narrative you wandered off with disappears in its replacement of Joel's fingers gathering slick between your folds. No announcement, just go. It was just within reach, feeling him inside you. You ride the shudder your body makes, licking your lips as you realise the unspoken rule is free and you can speak. "N-need it. Need your cock, please... please." "Need it, and you don't even know my name?" His index and middle finger waste no time in pressing into your aching core. Sounds of your wailing mix with his words as he lurches over, lip close to your ear. "Or maybe you do already."

"Please, please, please," your fingertips grip for the worn fabric of his couch while your hips that try to jut back are quickly halted by his other palm, a strong stopper at the base of your spine. "Not 'til you tell me my name." "I-I don't know. I don't know it, I swear." Joel's thick fingers slip completely out of you and you mewl pathetically, pussy clenching around nothing and he can see every last detail of it behind you. "Last fuckin' time, better tell me the truth." "It's Joel," you cry, hips pushing back against the resistance as much as possible. Anything to be filled again. "Joel. Joel. Joel. I was... I was– I don't know anybody. Not with anybody, I swear! Joel, I swear. Please! Just grew up hearin' your name. I swear on my life, Joel, please! I know I lied, didn't think you'd believe me."

You don't know why you're begging like your life depends on it, but your pleasure surely does, and there's a longer pause than you want lingering behind you. As if you can palpably feel Joel contemplating whether you're being truthful or not. But if there's one thing about you, aside from this moment in this compromising position: you don't answer to anybody.

Joel's cock bottoming out inside of you at the drop of a hat is confirmation enough that he believes you.

And you not only wail, but scream at the stretch and irresistible contact that punches you straight to your gut – right where you can feel the tip of him. Half-moon prints dig into your hips by his short fingernails when he grabs ahold of you and you're on your forearms, head hanging between your shoulders. Your panties keep your thighs straying too far apart if there is such a thing.

"This what you wanted when you watched me?" Joel grips your torso now, pulling you closer to him as you become more upright, his cock more accessible to the spongy spot inside of you and your nipples stand erect, eyes rolling back as it takes all of you not to rest your head back against his shoulder, and you fail. Hard. Your occiput makes contact with his shoulder. Joel brushes your hair back to the side, lips graze but never fully touches the column of your neck. "Thought about this tight cunt last night. Left the window open on purpose, but you knew that already, didn't you, pretty girl? Clever little thing and so fuckin' dirty."

Joel's hand snakes around the front of you, spreading your folds as he dives his fingers over your glossed-over clit your wetness claimed and that sends a whine off of your depraved lips. "That's it, honey. Show me what this cock does to ya. Makes you downright brainless from how well you take it." While his skilled fingers, toy with your clit, the other set of digits graze over your breasts on their way up to your mouth. You take them inside the warmth of your wet mouth easily, rolling your tongue over the digits until you can only focus on the white hot pleasure beginning to boil over. You keep his fingers between your teeth, a faint realisation that you can taste yourself on them. That's what does it.

His hips are relentless as they pound into you, the repetitious slaps of his skin against yours, of his balls tapping your cunt again and again sends you into a place that he knows you're approaching when you tighten and pulse.

"Y'know how tight and wet you feel around me, darlin'? Never had a fuckin' cunt like this. Let it out, let it out, just like you wanna. Just like you did last night around your fingers. Nothin' like this cock though, and you know it now, don't you? Oh, fuck yeah– thaaat's it. Look at you." "Joel... Joel!!!" Joel talks you through it, sending your body diving off the cliff that is your second orgasm. The undeniable gush of your fluids around his cock. His name stays stuck at the your tongue, the constant thud of it vibrates your lungs.

It starts at the attention on your clit. The raw bundle of nerves send signals outward as it spreads down your legs, up your stomach, to your nipples and down your spine. Your brain feels effervescent, toes curl, and it comes back again right to your heart. Your beating heart, wild, and every moan, whimper, scream that comes from you sounds like it is from someone else's chest. But it's yours, and you know that when you start to feel hazy, unable to hold yourself up anymore.

"Good for my cock after all. Ain't ya, baby? Shit."

Your torso leans forward while your cheek rests on the top of your hand that's gripped on Joel's couch, and your body is relaxed and fucked. Comfortably silent, just the way Joel would want you. His cock slips out of you, unable to stop the slew of grunts and groans that acts as an anchor to keep you from slipping under. You lick your lips, looking back at him with a nod, unable to stay silent for long. That struggle of power coming back for vengeance. "That's right. Come all over this ass you ruined. See those handprints? Dirty fucking man, you just met me. Show me how much you enjoyed doing that."

That's as far as you get when you feel the heavy streams of his hot, white come rope over your skin, and for someone who is no position to be smug, you sure do have a shit-eating grin on your face. Pure, and the simplest thing the two of you accomplish.

Joel shakes his head, shallow breaths become him as he staggers back and you pretend not to notice. "Gonna kill me, kid."

"Almost did."

---

You don't know why, but neither of you hold the promise of you leaving right away. You linger, both of you half naked and spent. You take your time cleaning yourself off, slipping your clothes back on. Day becoming night.

You tiptoe into the living room where Joel is unfurled on his couch. His eyes are closed, the back of his head inches away from where the two of you just had sex.

Planning your goodbye, you sit at the edge of the couch cushion, knowing he wasn't really asleep. Just restin' his eyes.

"I am sorry...," you finally say into the dimly lit room, pangs of annoyance fizz at your tongue for even apologising. For shooting him, for trying to steal from him. All of it.

It's not his fault. It's just how you are.

This is dichotomous in relation to your eyes. They're bleary when a yawn pulls deep from within you. As if rest had been climbing up to the surface this entire time.

"Maybe you should be apologisin' 'bout your shitty aim. Could teach you a thing or two." Joel's eyes remained closed, arms crossed. If you could let yourself experience this, you would notice how soft he looks in this moment. Instead, your stomach is recoils in fight or flight.

You're glad he can't see you swallow the knot in your throat.

There was no magical solution for your life, and a part of you wishes you hadn't chosen his cabin to raid. You wish you hadn't met him, because now you could feel yourself want to notice the small things in him. Already.

You felt it dangerous to let anything that close to you.

You scoff to play it off, giving his chest a light shove and very accidentally getting lost in the light landscape of hairs that resides at the top of his flannel. "I could teach you a thing or two." A pathetic response for a pathetically spent human.

"We could both teach each other," he resigns and you're grateful he doesn't point out your lack of wit for how worn out he's made you. Perhaps the smugness settles in the things he doesn't say. Really, it's in what Joel spouts off next that throws you upside down.

"S'why you should stay. One month. That's it."

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't stuttered," your eyes roll and somehow, despite Joel's own being shut, he tuts his teeth. "Don't roll your eyes at me, little girl. You need a place to sleep. Besides, I could use an extra set of hands. Way I see it, best offer you've had in a while. Got a shelf life, though. Don't like to wait."

A part of you is suspicious, and if this man didn't make sure you orgasmed twice, you would suspect yourself to be dead within a matter of minutes.

There's something true about him, though. You're unwilling to look at it directly, but you trust him.

"Fine."

"Gonna need clearer confirmation, darlin'. Really need you to want this if you're gonna stay with me." He knew exactly where to press.

"Fuck, I shoulda killed you when I had the chance. I want to stay with you. One month." You try to ignore the grit between your teeth as speak, but your shoulders eventually soften. And you really do mean it. It's just... you're hardened from years of misplaced trust.

Your hand goes to the pendant around your neck subconsciously.

Joel either doesn't notice, or gives you the space.

You're grateful either way.

"That's that, then."

If anyone could understand the concept, it's Joel.

"That's that."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #tlou fic #by bee #dancing is a dangerous game

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mangalho · 6 months

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I made this dude to relax bc i read the info on drows on the dnd wiki (i dont know shit abt dnd and im not joking) and thought ‘whoever made these guys is a pervert’ i respect that, but i closed my eyes at the stupider bits of the lore…

i just dont think their society is like. Livable HAHAAH also its stupid asf to have ‘inherently evil species’… apparently they’re steering away from that shit which is great.

He was a man from a non-noble house chosen by a matron of a high house and they were surprisingly happy together for drow standards. Malaggar comes from like a mining/trading settlement, but his ventures took him to Menzoberranzan and thats how he met her. She was smitten by his general honesto demeanor and cute "provincial" accent (okay big City bitch..!)

please note that drows are kind of insane in general but apparently its worse in highly populated noble ridden cities with the strictest social rules so like. To you this was just some guy but to that woman he was so different so quirky ajahjahah

They had a good run, but eventually another matron from another high house came and said ‘i want him’ and since drow women compete like wild animals she killed his OG wife.. demolished her really

He became her bitch AND was miserable. She was happy bc he was like a pretty young thing but soon started getting violent with the guy because he was grieving his first wife whom he actually liked. He was in a rough spot bc he was getting his ass beat on the daily fr.. However his new wife was also a high drow so. He was basically elevating his family just bc he was there taking the domestic abuse (read: normal spider-worshipping drow behaviour)

The new matron was very unkind in every possible way you can imagine, but she didn’t do anything to him that would scar his body, greatest asset and all that. One day he snapped and killed his matron by way of knife and ran away to the surface world. Then he started his life of crime. Went from a little abused noble boy to some cartel mercenary dude who kills ppl and has tattoos. I think they look both really dumb but also sick as fuck, and he probably got them as a way to rebel against his upbringing in a way. But he’s edgy so i bet he thinks he looks sick like no nations no borders no self awareness being embarrassing unites all peoples

he is traumatized by women and is deeply afraid of them! I want his story to develop around becoming more normal and overcoming his grief.. hes from a long lived species so its taking him a while. Also its harder to make real friends if all your coworkers are insane criminals

#Dnd #drow #oc #drawans

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the-hipster-nugget · 8 months

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Rendogs character is SO. I love that he’s just a good person and it shows in every aspect and rendition of his character. That at heart, he’s just kind. It’s in his blood to be nice and passive to everybody he comes across. Circumstances just force him to do otherwise, despite his instincts. His instincts to be man’s best friend, and treat people with love and this fairness that’s hard to find in an unforgiving world. But the world is unforgiving, and unkind to people like Rendog. He isn’t allowed to be nice.

His whole Red King schtick feels so out of place almost, because he will go up to people and try to befriend them— and when they are hostile… he almost doesn’t know what to say. He’ll fumble, he’ll try to be stern and mean too. He tries his best to put on this front of a cold hearted, blood crowned king. But it doesn’t sound right coming from that sweet voice of his. “So.. basically.. this is a declaration of war…” He’ll awkwardly mumble to Scar, failing to give off any sense of danger or authority.

He will tell Martyn “That’s it. No more being the nice guy, I’m done being generous.” But at the end of the day, he’s unable to live up to that. He will continue to negotiate, and offer people more than he needs to give. Out of the kindness of his heart, he will always want to give instead of take. He just wants people to treat him fairly back. Is that so much to ask?

He doesn’t know what to when somebody doesn’t return that affection, he feels frozen in confusion and fear when he’s met with hostility. Everytime somebody threatens him he just curls in on himself, his ears go flat and tail between his legs.

He can’t find it in himself, so he looks to his hand instead. He always looks at Martyn, for approval and guidance. As if to say, “is this the right thing to do? Am I being cruel enough? Please, tell me I’m being evil. Am I doing this right?”

He is the king, but he can’t do a thing without his hand. A person, a body, cannot harm without a hand to slice with. Without a hand to hold that axe, he can’t kill a thing.

Ren is so kind in his heart, that he has to ask Martyn to cut his head off; to turn him red. He thinks the only way possible for him to do horrible things is to force it to be in his nature. He could never naturally, of his own will, bring harm to another person. Even one that has wronged him. He has to turn his name red—

But he can’t even do it himself, so he asks Martyn instead. He feels ill at the idea of ending his own life maybe, of ending a life at all. The thought of getting blood on his own paws and fingers make him gag. So he looks to his hand, his friend, and he begs, “Make me bad. I can’t do it alone.”

And even after all that, after Martyn tries his hardest to harden his king. To cover him in blood, and turn his tame yellow name red… Ren still finds himself crying in regret and agony after killing only two people. I already made a post about Rens breakdown over Scott’s death but it just really solidifies how kind hearted Ren is. He’s playing by the rules, killing somebody was against him, by all counts he was in the right. But he still feels horrible.

Rens heart will always be red, but it will be the color of poppies, the color of roses and flowers. It will be the color of his bright button up shirt, one he wears on sunny days. It will be the color of love, a deep romantic red you think of when you hear a sweet song. It will never be the color of blood.

#rendog #ren the dog #third life #3rd life #life series #trafficverse #traffic series #third life martyn #inthelittlewood #martyn inthelittlewood #treebark #renchanting #dogwarts #mcyt

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bunmurdock · 3 months

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sensitive | matt murdock x f!reader

summary: matt comforts you with your insecurities, and you help him solve a case. tags: hurt/comfort, sensitive!reader, daddy!matt, use of a pet name (“pup”) word count: 1.4k a/n: hurt/comfort as previously voted on in the poll <3

it’s been a long day.

you’re sat in matt’s lap, face tucked into his neck, his presence a comforting constant as works at his desk in your shared apartment. the soft tap of a braille keyboard and the occasional hum sounds around you.

the weight of unkind words and contemptful expressions sit heavy on your heart, and it’s only here, in the circle of matt’s arms, that you can find solace.

“matt?“ your voice is a soft murmur, barely audible above the faint sounds of the city that filter through the open window.

“hm?” he hums, his free hand rubbing your back absently.

you hesitate, the insecurity you’ve been harboring all day finding its way into your words. “do you ever think... that maybe i’m too much? too sensitive?“

“what makes you think that?”

your eyes cast downwards, fixating on a loose thread on your sleeve.

“i just… sometimes, the way people talk to me, or about me—it hurts. and i know it shouldn’t, not as much as it does, but it feels like i can’t help it,” you confess.

matt stops typing, the room falling silent save for the distant hum of the city. he turns to you fully, his expression softening as he lifts your chin gently with his finger, encouraging you to face him. “pup,” he starts, his voice firm yet filled with an undeniable warmth, “your sensitivity is a gift. it means you care, you empathize deeply. it’s a strength, a rare one.”

your eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and relief. “but it feels like it’s just... making me an easy target,” you murmur, the confession slipping out before you can stop it.

matt’s thumb brushes away a stray tear that dares to escape, tracing the line of your cheek with tender care. “i know it feels that way sometimes,” he acknowledges, his tone earnest, “but being open-hearted in a world that often isn’t kind is brave, not foolish. it’s who you are, and i wouldn’t want you any other way.”

he pulls you closer. “besides,” he continues, a hint of his protective streak shining through, “it’s my job to keep you safe. and i take that job very seriously, sweetheart.”

he shifts slightly, making room on his lap, a silent invitation for you to snuggle closer. you take it, wrapping your arms tighter around him, finding comfort in the solid warmth of his body. “but what about when you’re not there?“ the question is muffled against the collar of his shirt.

“then you remember what i’ve taught you,” matt says, a note of seriousness threading through his comforting tone. “you remember that you’re stronger than you think, and that it’s okay to stand up for yourself. you also remember that it’s okay to walk away from situations and people that make you feel small. you have that right.”

he pauses, his hand stilling on your back as he seems to ponder his next words. “and you remember that no matter what happens, no matter how hard a day you’ve had, you come home to me. to us. this is your safe space, where you can be as sensitive as you need to be, alright?“

“o-kay” you whisper, slightly croaked, feeling a sense of peace start to replace the turmoil within. “love you.”

“love you too.” his voice is a gentle rumble against your chest.

there’s a moment of silence, one filled with an unspoken understanding, a shared vulnerability that’s safe and accepted between the two of you. his fingers continue their soothing dance across your skin, each stroke a wordless promise of support.

“you know, i’ve got these client tapes to review. could use some fresh ears. wanna help me?”

nodding, you lean back a bit and lift a hand to accept the earbud he offers.

“ready?“

the audio starts, a muffled conversation that matt’s been poring over for hours. the recording is a series of interviews and interrogations, voices weaving through the complexities of legalities and alibis. you focus, trying to make sense of the maze of words and implications.

as the tape rolls on, matt’s brow furrows, a clear sign he’s stumbled upon something perplexing. “this is the part that doesn’t add up,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“so, this is about a client of mine, elliot. he’s been accused of a serious crime—embezzlement from his own charity foundation. the prosecution’s case is strong; they have records of transactions, emails, everything pointing to him. but i know elliot; he’s dedicated his life to this cause. something doesn’t add up.”

you listen intently, your mind already turning over the details matt provides. “and you’re sure he’s telling the truth?“ you ask.

“he wasn’t lying. but it’s not just his heartbeat; the evidence that doesn’t fit. there’s a pattern to the transactions, a regularity that seems too... deliberate. it’s as if someone wanted us to find these discrepancies,” matt explains, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk.

“does he have an alibi?“ you ask.

“he has an alibi for one of the key nights in question, but it’s shaky. he says he was at a meeting, but no one can corroborate his story. that’s where the prosecution is hitting hardest.”

you nod, absorbing the complexity of the situation. “so, what’s our move?“ you ask.

“we need to find a flaw in their narrative, something concrete to prove he couldn’t have done what they’re accusing him of. i’ve been through most of the evidence, but...” matt trails off.

you think, and it hits you.

“wait, matt, go back to that part about the ice cream shop,” you suddenly say, a memory sparking in your mind. matt obliges, rewinding the tape to the segment in question. it’s a minor detail in the grand scheme of the investigation—a witness mentioning in passing that they saw elliot near an ice cream shop on the night of one of the transactions.

“this might sound weird, but remember when we went to that ice cream shop on last summer? coney island, the one with the vintage arcade?“

“yeah, i remember. you got that ridiculously large cone and ended up sharing half of it with me,” he chuckles.

“but they close early on tuesdays, remember? we had to go somewhere else because it was their cleaning day,” you point out, the realization dawning on you both.

matt’s eyes widen, the significance of your memory hitting him. “right, how could they have had their meeting there if the shop was closed?“

the implications of this discovery are clear. not only does it cast doubt on the credibility of the witness’s testimony, but it also provides a tangible piece of evidence that contradicts the timeline laid out by the prosecution.

“that’s it, pup. that’s the break we needed,” matt says, a note of excitement in his voice that you’ve rarely heard. “this could discredit their key witness and give us the leverage to demand a reevaluation of the evidence.”

“but how do we prove the shop was closed? we need something concrete,” you say, already thinking ahead.

matt nods. “i’ll contact the shop owner, get a statement about their hours. maybe they have surveillance footage or a cleaning service invoice from that night. anything that can verify the shop was indeed closed.”

he’s already pulling out his phone, fingers flying over the braille keypad to send an urgent message. you watch him, a sense of pride swelling in your chest, not just for the breakthrough, but for the man beside you—his dedication, his belief in justice, and his unwavering support for those he cares about.

“and, pup,” matt turns to you, expression soft and patting your hair, “you just might have cracked this case wide open. you’re incredible, you know that?“

your cheeks warm under his praise, and you duck your head, shy. “i just remembered something small,” you mumble.

“you remembered something small, but important. i knew there was a reason i asked for your help, sweetheart. you see things differently, and that... that makes all the difference.”

the warmth in his voice, it’s enough to chase away the last remnants of doubt clouding your mind.

here, with matt, you’re not just safe; you’re valued, your quirks and sensitivities not just tolerated but cherished.

you beam.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #bun’s

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minichrismd · 3 months

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Scared of The Past (Running From the Future) - Theo Nott (1/?)

The black lake was eerily peaceful at night, the occasional slosh of water breaking on the edge and birds chirping as they flew was the only thing breaking the silence.

You sat staring out at the edge, internally debating your next steps in the mess you currently found yourself in. With the wizarding war looming on the horizon, you knew you had two choices. Stay and fight or run.

You sighed as you thought through your options. Staying to fight alongside your brother and friends seemed like the right choice, but a feeling settled in your stomach every time you thought about it. The possibility of ending up like your parents, tortured to the point of insanity and spending the rest of your life institutionalised was wildly unappealing, to the point that death would have been a better fate.

The thought of running and being freed from your wizarding life held some appeal, but it would mean leaving behind everything and everyone you’d ever know. There would no longer be a place for you in the wizarding world, essentially sentencing yourself to exile for the rest of your life. Was that a fate better than probable death?

Your mind spun these thoughts around until you felt a hand on your shoulder, jolting you to attention.

“Amore mio, it’s me.” You heard a familiar voice whisper. You relaxed almost immediately at the sound.

“Theo, you scared me.” You whispered, turning your head to look up at him, barely able to make out his face in the darkness. He gave your shoulder a squeeze as he moved to sit next to you, his hand making its way from your shoulder, down your arm to grasp at your hand.

You sat in a comfortable silence, taking the time to run your thumb over his knuckles.

“Are you still thinking about your choices?” He mumbled after a while, causing you to let out another sigh. You nodded, shuffling slightly closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder. He released his grip on your hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

Very few people saw this side to Theo. To most, he was closed off and tight lipped, scowling and fighting were what he was known for. But to you, he was kind and open, a true gentleman.

“I don’t know what to do.” You mumbled, forcing down the lump in your throat. Theo heard the strain in your voice, quickly pulling you into a hug and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Whatever you choose, I’ll stand by you.”

“But it’s not that easy!” You spoke exasperated. “We’re on different sides of this war.”

“Not by choice.”

“I know that!”

You sighed again, pressing your palms into your eyes and rubbing them, trying to stave off the tears that you’d been holding in for days after the last order meeting you’d attended.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. “I shouldn’t blame you for a choice you didn’t make.”

Theo sighed and held you tighter, the light of the moon grazing on his dark mark that was peeking out from under his uniform. His induction into the Dark Lord’s army of Death Eaters had been a sore subject for weeks.

In his embrace, your tears began to fall, like a dam had broken and your emotions were flowing out freely. Your body wracked with sobs in his arms.

“It will be ok.”

“But what if it isn’t? What if one of us dies Theo?”

Theo didn’t respond but clutched you tighter to him, unwilling to let you go. At seventeen you were both too young for this, completely unprepared for what this war had caused. Lines were drawn, divides were reincarnated tenfold, war was unkind to all involved.

“What if I ran with you?” Theo mumbled, his face buried in your shoulder, his words so quiet that you barely caught them.

Your head rose from his shoulder.

“What?”

“I said, what if I ran with you?”

“You would?”

He nodded softly, lifting a hand to your cheek and brushing your tears away.

“I can’t lose you amore mio.”

#theo nott x you #theo nott one shot #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott oneshot #writing #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #reader insert #fem reader

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sleepless-rants · 3 months

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Today im thinking about the dehumanization of khaenri'ah. The fact that they intentionally ERASED any kind of history record left by khaenriahns other than the ooh giant scary war machines that shoot lasers they must've CLEARLY had sinister intentions. no one sees the notes left behind by an ordinary citizen stuck at the gates of their country in the middle of the desert because if they moved any further, their starving mother wasnt going to make it. The way they intentionally REDUCED rhinedottir to the sins she committed. (which were sins in the first place by their standards) the way rhinedottir is a bad person but not in a super villain way, she's bad bacause human beings are just as much capable of unkindness and bitterness and evil as they are of being good. The way the khaenri'ahn higher ups very well may have had bad ideas and evil plans that could've altered the world but we can see this with any other nation's governing body (e.g grand sage azar making a literal god), thats a human issue, corrupt government force is A HUMAN ISSUE. We dont know what happened back there, maybe they really did have no choice but to wipe the entire nation out but god, the way they were human and the way no one remebers that when it was their whole ideology in the first place. the pride of humankind robbed of their humanity.

#anyways how's the weather where yall are from #genshin impact #khaenri'ah #genshin #rhinedottir #khaenriah #khaenri'ah sympathising #shout out to monards for trigerring this rant

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leggerefiore · 6 months

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I know you've done headcanons with the twins apologizing after a fight, but now we gotta know how Cyrus, Larry, Nanu, and Kabu apologize! Bonus if its right before someone has to leave for a business trip or something (him or his s/o, either one) so there's a lot of time to cool off and think of a way to apologize or maybe just agonize and angst about it lol

cw: angst, couple fights, comfort,

characters: Cyrus, Larry, Nanu, Kabu

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ He was a man of little emotion. That was what he desperately wanted to believe. Controlled. Logical. Feelings had no bearing on him. Yet, he was in a committed relationship with another. One where it seemed that whatever emotional barriers he set up were forced down. This could be good, as he was forced to relax and allowed a space to stop following his ruse of the somewhat charismatic and domineering leader of Team Galactic. It was nice to have moments to breathe with another he hated to admit he had high trust for. Though, it could also be bad. Horribly bad. He was so close to finishing his plans, yet you decided to demand his attention. Loneliness and feeling abandoned by him were your chief complaints, but he failed to listen to them. It became a heated argument quickly, which he ended by packing his bags for the time he planned to be locked into his plans.

☄️ Your hurt expression as he slammed the door behind him was haunting. He had turned his personal phone off, preferring to focus solely on matters related to the Red Chain and legendaries. Words echoed in his mind. Your frustration towards him was more than apparent, but the way you had locked onto his arm had made him feel strange. Lonely… You said you felt lonely and unwanted. Accusations of him not even wanting to be in a relationship any more were heavy on his chest. What did he want? Part of him wanted to accuse you of being a useless piece of his past holding him back from everything he was going to do. The other half felt mortified he had hurt the one person that he had these complicated feelings for. If only to himself, he would admit that he loved you. His words were more than unkind. Cyrus had mostly ignored you before snapping on you for trying to consume so much of his precious time.

☄️ The way it was distracting him from his plans was driving him into a special kind of madness. It was not like him to be so caught up on things like this. Feelings came and went. You would not care for this in his perfect world, and yet here he was spiralling further and further into the thoughts of you deciding to leave him. His breath hitched in his throat as he grasped at his chest. The door to his office was locked as he was sat alone in the dark room. Cyrus was above this. He was supposed to be the embodiment of emptiness that he wished to bring to the rest of the world. Yet, he was not. Memories tormented him as your hurt face kept itself firmly burned into his brain. Finally, he broke. The Galactic Boss had to acknowledge that his plans would surely fail if he were to enact them in such a state.

☄️ Saturn seemed mildly annoyed when he announced a postponement of the plans, but he cared little for his reaction. Sure, he lied about it being under the gaze of more testing and investigating, but he knew fully well that the path to what he desired most was through that method. That apathy only lasted until he stood in front of his apartment door. It was quiet. Not there was much noise in the high-end complex usually, but he expected some sound. Had you left? He had not been brave enough to turn on his phone. His fingers tapped in the code for the door, and he stepped inside. You sat on the couch, boredly watching the television screen as it played something. He felt nervous suddenly, like his legs could no longer support his weight. Before he crashed, you turned to look at him with big eyes.

☄️ Your arms locking around him froze him in place as you rushed towards him at an unexpected speed. The warmth of your body completely claimed his mind as it forced down all the horrible worries about you disappearing. His hand came to rest in between your shoulder blades. A sigh left him. “Beloved… I apologise for my behaviour,” Cyrus felt strange speaking so genuinely to you, “I… I have been a bad partner to you. This project has simply been one of my most important ones, and I could not bear to waste a moment away on it.” Your grip on his shirt tightened at those words, obviously it was not what you had wanted to hear from him. “But, I realise that was cruel to you,” he continued, making eye contact with you, “… I love you, truly. Please, do not even think that I wish to part from you.” A kiss to his lips silenced him from whatever else he was going to say. It seemed you just wanted to soak in his presence for now, to which he was more than happy to oblige.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 Larry sat in the cab with heavy thoughts weighing on his mind. Relationships certainly were not an easy thing. Especially with a working schedule like his. Geeta had assigned him an out of region business trip, which he knew better than to try to decline. She could be quite… persistent, for lack of a better term. Though, he found she had a fierce competition in you. The news had upset you greatly, as the trip was happening during a time he had requested time off. You felt frustrated that Larry did not argue against her about his requested time off. He felt annoyed and stressed about being stuck between your upset reaction and Geeta's demanding nature. It was rare that his facade broke, but he snapped at you. His words were cruel. Too cruel. You almost instantly teared up when he told you that this would not be a problem if you were not together. There was no time to talk as you left the apartment.

🍙 His eyes stared out at the terrain below as it carried him through the Galar region. He felt too far from home. You had made him feel like he had a reason to return back from work. Larry was not ignorant about the bright changes that you brought to his life. Meals no longer felt lonely, his battles felt more meaningful with you in the audience cheering him on, and he felt like his home was more than a place to just rest his head. You spoke with him and cuddled up to him. He could enjoy the sight of you playing with his pokemon. It felt brighter now. He basically smashed that light with a bat. Embarrassment burned in his chest. You just wanted to see him more. That was not unreasonable. Yet, he blamed you for his distaste for this sudden trip. If he was not dating you, he would not feel this upset about having to take it, sure, but he also would be missing so much else instead.

🍙 Attempts to call you went unanswered, as it was clear that you did not want to speak with him. He understood. The tears welling in your eyes haunted him. Larry knew better than to say things like that, especially at his age. You deserved much better than some average man like him. It was a strange form of torture, moving through negotiations and meetings on his trip. He put his usual effort into them, not wanting to incur any more issues, but his mind was completely elsewhere. While wondering around Wyndon, he found himself searching for any to bring back as a gift for you. Nothing seemed to call out to him. That was until he saw something in a children's shop.

🍙 By the time he was back in Paldea, he could feel his blood pressure up high. His feet carried him through the streets of Medali nervously, freezing a few times in deep thought. Would you still be there? He hoped you would give him a chance to apologise. The time away had given him the ability to consider the error of his ways. He opened the apartment door quietly. The sink was running in the kitchen as he saw the light pouring out from the door way in the low light of the late evening. The middle-aged man carried himself into the home, aware that you were now. Yet, before he could reach the doorway, you stepped out and stared at him. It was quiet for much too long. An awkward moment of refusal to make eye contact followed.

🍙 Larry pulled out the gift wordlessly and offered it out to you. He let out a breath. “... I shouldn't have said that,” the words came out as his stomach twisted, “I'm grateful you put up with a man like me. I was stressed and should have controlled myself better. I assure you that won't do it again to you.” You took the box and opened it quietly. Inside was a cute Alcremie plush holding a heart. A small laugh left you. Placing it on a nearby table, you walked towards him and hugged him. He returned the affection with ease, feeling at peace after everything. Home truly was with you, it seemed. “I love you,” Larry said after a while, “... I managed to get the next few days off.” The excitement on your face was like electricity in the air. His Oricorio would be envious. It seemed you two would be able to work this out.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 It was not like him, honestly. Nanu had become pretty passive in his older age. Discourse and stress were not really worth it, he had discovered long ago. Yet, somehow, he managed to get into a fight with his partner. It was dumb, admittedly, and not entirely your fault. The Ultra Beast you had brought back from wherever you had been made him instantly go on edge. It had to be specifically that one, too. The Guzzlord made him instantly feel on the defensive. He said something harsh things that he knew he should not have, and you seemed so shocked by his sudden shift in personality that you ran off. He had not seen you since. The Kahuna wondered if you were done with him. He supposed he deserved it for what he had said.

🌑 Though, Acerola found him moping around with Meowths and quickly put to rest any worries. You had just been called out to some battle tournament thing for Champions and had gone away on a trip. Apparently, you had captured the Ultra Beast for it. Of course, whether you would actually come back to him after the trip was over remained in the air. The girl seemed distressed about how to respond to the situation. He understood. Nanu could not stand the Ultra Beasts, but accusing you of mocking him and trying to make him think about his past failures was simply wrong. You did not know about that because he did not tell you about it. Miscommunication was common, he guessed. But, you had seemed genuinely hurt and terrified by how he changed upon seeing the Guzzlord. This is why he liked Meowths, he supposed. They did not judge people like humans did.

🌑 He still wanted to apologise to you. As much as he hated to admit it, Nanu was fond of you. The old man wished he was not, but you unfortunately had made him care for you by going out of your way to spend time with him and just by being so loving towards him. He wondered why you wasted your time on him. There were a lot of men out in the world that were greater than him. He was just a lazy cop who avoided his duties until he had to do them. But, he was not one to deny someone what they wanted. Even if that meant sharing his couch bed with another person alongside his Meowths. Acerola had no idea when you would be back, however, so he just would have to play the waiting game.

🌑 While a certain friend of his had called him unlucky once, Nanu had not thought too much about it until a familiar voice called out to him as he ordered his usual meal at the Sushi High Roller in Malie. You had seemingly come out of nowhere, sheepishly smiling at him as you stood in the entranceway. He ordered your usual for you and watched as you followed him to where the both of you were normally seated. For a while, it was an awkward silence. He thought of a few things he could possibly say, but nothing came out. Your meals were just eaten in a strange quietness. Nanu brought this on himself. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, you were staring at him. “I'm sorry,” you apologised to him, “I didn't know that you… Were uncomfortable with UBs like that.”

🌑 He shook his head. “Don't blame yourself,” Nanu reassured you, “You didn't know, and I didn't tell you. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that.” Your eyes looked towards the floor. He reached across under the table to grab your hand. “I like you, kid,” he called you that nickname to tease you a bit, “I'm not mad. I understand if you don't want to bother with an old man like me any more-” He was cut off by you suddenly grasping his hand tightly. You shook your head. He sighed. “Hey, let's get out of here,” Nanu got up and headed to pay, “I feel like there's more you want.” Needless to say, the Kahuna felt completely reassured that you wanted this relationship later, and whatever awkwardness the miscommunication brought up was destroyed the minute you two were alone together.

🔥Kabu🏅

💥 He had no idea how the fight even started, really. Something between you two just lit up like a Fire Blast. Kabu wanted to pretend that he was not the type to get jealous, but something about how much time you seemed to be spending with Raihan. He supposed it made sense with you being the Champion and all, but he just felt oddly insecure. After all, Kabu was an older man and, despite how fit he was, there were times when he could not keep up with you. He was not proud of what he said. An accusation like that in a heated moment was a mistake. Especially when he was taking a trip back to Hoenn to visit family. You looked so hurt as you stormed out of your shared home in Motostoke to go who knows where. Attempts to call you were in vain as you refused to answer, and then he lost the ability to while in Hoenn.

💥 He truly could not even comprehend how those feelings came up inside his mind. You had never shown any romantic interest in Raihan, nor were you acting unhappy or discontented in your relationship with him. Kabu simply just felt as if you had suddenly were interested in him as you had been training with him more often. He even felt as if it were cutting into the time that you spent at home with him. If you wanted to train, he was more than willing to train with you. You were both his rival and lover, ultimately. Training with you was one of his favourite things to do. The more he lamented about it, the more it seemed apparent that he was not truly convinced that you were into Raihan, but upset that he was taking up time that you both usually shared. Some wizened old man he was. Kabu wanted to laugh and cry.

💥 As the gym leader wandered around his home region, he debated a way to truly make up for what he had done. Kabu would be certain to apologise first and foremost for his words, knowing fully well that it was his fault for acting in such a manner, but he wanted to show his affection at the same time. He wandered around a few markets and stores in the tropical region before stumbling across something sweet in the Lilycove Department Store. Of course, he thought as he looked at it, that would be an obvious way to apologise and would hopefully be something that you would like.

💥 The flight back home was a slightly nervous one. He hoped you had returned home in his absence, not wanting you to have to stay at a hotel or out camping. The familiar ambiance of Galar surrounded him as he boarded a train bound from Wyndon to Motostoke with a racing heart. The region he came to make his home was always quite different from the one he had originated from. He could complain endlessly about the delays with the trains, but he opted against it. This was his home, after all. It was here that allowed him to meet you and enjoy the battles he found himself continuing in well into his ageing self. Unlocking the door to his home, he felt more determined. Kabu entered and found you curled up on the couch with his Centiskorch. The sight was refreshing. You turned to look at him with curious eyes.

💥 “I'm sorry, love,” he stood before you and hung his head a bit, “I know what I said was completely off the mark, and I shouldn't have even said it.” You stared at him with big eyes, making his heart race. Kabu wanted to laugh at how well you had him trapped. Without a doubt in his mind, he knew that he would run himself ragged to make you happy. He pulled out the gift he got for you in Hoenn. “I love you,” he said plainly, “I hope this helps convey my feelings.” You picked up the pokeball out of his hand and sent out what was inside. A heart-shaped pokemon looked around the living room in confusion. The Luvdisc clearly had no idea what was going on. There were few, if any, in Galar due to restrictions, but he pulled a few connections to bring it in. Judging by the hug and kiss you gave to him, it seemed he was forgiven and understood.

#pokemon x reader #cyrus x reader #larry x reader #nanu x reader #kabu x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon larry x reader #pokemon nanu x reader #pokemon kabu x reader #pokemon/reader #cyrus/reader #kabu/reader #nanu/reader #larry/reader

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 9 months

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i've been thinking abt this for the last 10 seconds and i need to share this LMFAOO but how but either jack or kappa with "i would never let anyone or anything hurt you. i've never felt that way about anyone." AAAAAAAA imma pass out oki lob u lots and i love the way you write i like hang on to every word ITS SO GOOD EVERYTIME

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 1000 FOLLOWERS! Let's celebrate that with this little something something here 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 I'm very much left speechless by the sheere amount of people that apparently enjoy my deranged writings enough to follow this flaming dumpster fire of a Tumblr blog. I love and appreciate all of you so incedibly much! 🖤 Thank you from the very bottom of my heart!

Going To California

Summary: Kappa displaying insane amounts of husband material.

Pairing: hippie!Kappa x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Content Warnings: Romantic Van Life Smut 18+!, Unprotected P In V, L-Bombs, Very Fluffy And Domestic, Kappa Being A Heartthrob, Kappa Talking You Through It, Sprinkles Of Actual Plot, Dad!Kappa 👀

A/N: To the wonderful nonnie, I have to confess that I thought much longer than 10 seconds about this 🤭🥴

I put together a hippie!Kappa playlist!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai

Spent my days with a woman unkind

Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine

Made up my mind to make a new start

Going to California with an aching in my heart

Someone told me there's a girl out there

With love in her eyes and flowers in her hair

- Going To California By Led Zeppelin

With his plush, soft lips Kappa left a trail of slightly sloppy kisses all the way from your forehead down to the tip of your nose that he eventually nudged playfully with the tip of his own.

"And here I thought you'd let me sleep.." You giggled, your tone a little drowsy as your senses had already been on the best way to slip towards warm and comforting dreams for tonight.

" 'M sorry, sugar, didn't wanna wake you up again." He nuzzled his face into the curve of your neck, his left cheek soft against your jawline.

"Are you though?" You pushed somewhat teasingly, arching your brows in the dark of the van while a smile tugged your lips.

"Well, yeah…but also not really." Kappa admitted, his curly, black hair ghosting over your collarbone whilst his hands searched for your waist further down underneath the woolen blanket that the two of you shared.

In gingerly soft touches, his fingertips caressed over the bare skin of your hips, tracing your curves slowly to savor every inch of you next to him.

"Go on.." You inquired, feeling how he sent little waves of gentle goosebumps all over your body.

"I'm just..y'know…I've never been just that happy and I can't help myself here, really. I hardly get enough of you, babe." His slightly raspy voice hummed into the crook of your neck which had you leaning your head back just a little yet enough for him to take note of the invitation.

"Hardly enough, yeah?", It rolled over your tongue in a tender laugh as you recognised his lips softly nipping right underneath your earlobe, "I'm with you all day everyday. How are you not tired of that yet, honey?"

"How could I ever, hm?", To underline his point, Kappa suckled your sensitive skin right between his teeth, effectively leaving a hickey just like a love-sick teenager, "None of this would just be remotely as heavenly as it is right now without you. Living in a van this, being free to go wherever that…but I wouldn't wanna go anywhere without you anymore. I love you."

"Good god, you're so sweet, Kappa.", You felt your entire chest swelling with a very distinct kind of fulfilling warmth as you led your fingertips to sneak under the hem of his linen shirt and caress his soft skin all the way up to his shoulders, "I love you, too. So incedibly much."

Turning your face to the side just a notch, you pressed a long kiss to the crown of his head, holding him close in your embrace, your senses following closely how his body heat quickly engulfed your statue, seeping through the layers of fabric.

'Hmhmm…right there, sugar." Kappa quietly groaned into your neck, pressing his front further against yours.

You very well knew how much of a slave he was to being touched around his shoulders and you eagerly followed his plea for more of your tender strokes. Planting another kiss to his hair, you started drawing random shapes and forms, curly waves and loops all over his shoulder blades and along his spine, pulling little moans and whines oozing with enjoyment from his mouth.

"S-so good to me, love." He hummed in a low voice, his own hands fastening their hold on your hips.

"Always." You returned softly while it didn't go unnoticed how both of your bodies reacted to one another.

You could feel Kappa's growing hard on pressing through his pants against your thighs just as much as you acknowledged your perked up nipples brushing against his collarbones whilst your own arousal throbbed between your legs.

"So much for just falling asleep, huh?" You joked amicably, pressing both of your palms against his back before pulling him on top of you as you turned to lay on your back.

"Oh, that's all you now!" Kappa reciprocated with a hearty laugh right before lowering his lips onto yours, nipping and nibbling at them teasingly.

"Is that so?" It left your mouth in a chuckle, your hands busy with pulling his trousers off of him.

"I might just be a tad bit involved in this.." He groaned, feeling his cock prodding against your cunt without anything left in between.

"A tad bit, yeah?" You inhaled sharply at the sensation, noticing how your body turned gradually more greedy.

"Probably severely very interested, s'that what you wanna hear, sugar?" Kappa sighed against your mouth before thrusting into you in one languid, careful stroke.

"Fuck…", It rushed over your tongue as you felt his girth stretching you out, "Feels so good, damn."

"Still mad about being awake?" Your lover huffed against your jawline as he rolled his hips into your lap, having your eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

"Hmhmmm…" You moaned out whilst allowing your head loll back into one of the plenty tie-dye patterned cushions.

"Fuck, I love you so much.", Kappa groaned, raising his forehead to rest right against yours as he thrusted into you anew, "I'd never let anything or anyone hurt you, sugar. You know that, right?"

Kappa's words reverberated, echoed right through you, making you feel as one with him.

"I've never felt that way about anyone before." His voice filled your mind as the tip of his cock nudged against that especially sensitive spot on your inside.

"My one and only…", You moaned softly against his warm, slightly sweaty cheek, your lips brushing over his upper lip and pressing soft pecks to the corner of his mouth, "Wouldn't trade the world for you. Ugh, god, hear that? You turned me all soft, damn hippie."

Both of you chuckled for a moment, the vibrations of his chest against yours making your heart feel like it was about to explode right into his aura that smelled like lavender and freshly cut grass to you. The warmth of his character, the carelessness in the most inappropriate of moments and just simply being with Kappa had done things to you…good things for once in your life.

"You were soft way before me, love, the world just didn't appreciate you showing it, but be certain that I do." You couldn't quite decipher if it was the way Kappa spoke to you or the way he cradled the curves of your waist in his grip, making you feels safe and protected with him right on top you, between your legs, that eventually pushed your body over the threshold of a rapidly building orgasm and quite frankly you didn't care.

Soft moans, repeated chants of his name cascaded from your lips as you arched your back to shove your hips into his lap, needing to feel him inside of you as deep as you possibly could, your pulsing and contacting cunt clenching down around his cock.

"There, there…let it all just go, 'm here, sugar." He cooed into your flushed cheek in a low groan, his own body turning rigid as he felt your walls pulling him in deeper.

The tide of your orgasm, the push and pull of your release was enough for Kappa to come undone himself, spilling his load as deep as possible, shoving it and pushing it deep inside of you.

"I gotchu…" Kappa hummed, enjoying the bliss of his own release rippling through his muscles, allowing himself to get lost in that instant of being ultimately close to you.

Only very reluctantly he pulled out of you eventually, the load of his seed trickling out and pooling all over the inside of your thigh.

"Uh, I gotta tell you something, actually…" You started awkwardly, immediately drawing Kappa's attention towards you.

"Huh? Are you trying to give a panic attack right after cumming now?" His hand fumbled around the headboard above the mattress, fingertips eagerly trying to find the light switch for the fairy lights dangling from all over the ceiling.

"No, sorry, oh god, sorry. It's just… come here.", Right after he flipped the switch, illuminating the inside of your van in a warm, almost orangy tint, you reached for his hand and gently pressed it against your lower abdomen, "I have a strong feeling that we are at least 3 now."

"What?" It blurted out of him, brows knit together in confusion as he stared at you with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"I'm way past my period, Kappa.", You hinted further, "Sore breasts and, good god, the nausea lately?"

"What I'm hearing you say right now is that you are… pregnant?" His forehead crinkled in soft creases.

"Ah, there we go. That took you a hot second, no?" You chuckled out softly, planting a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

" 'M gonna be a dad?!", Confusion was swept aside by unbridled joy and excitement, "And you're gonna be a momma?!"

"Looks like it an awful lot now, babe." You couldn't hold back the wide grin spreading on your face before Kappa practically jumped you, attacking you with a wave of kisses, pecks and smooches all over.

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #kappa #kappa black mirror #kappa x reader #kappa x you #rory culkin #kappa smut #kappa x fem!reader #black mirror #black mirror 6 #black mirror: beyond the sea

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januaryembrs · 1 year

Text

APPRENTICE | Kylo Ren x force user!reader

Request: Hi! Can you do a Kylo Ren x Reader, where the reader is a wielder of the Force who begs Kylo to be her teacher and to learn more about it. Imagining she’s heard about him and The First Order, & knows that he’s a powerful force user.

@obsessionprofessional says - Congrats on almost 1000 followers! I hope it IS 1000 by the time you read this! May I please request a Kylo Ren x female reader piece in which he finally admits his feelings? And maybe they snuggle :3 Again, congratulations on this milestone!

description: You realise your slight quirk is actually much more than you ever imagined when you meet an Empire commander who asks you to become his apprentice.

word count: 2.5k

trigger warnings: swearing? slight angst? feeling of being unworthy?

main masterlist

Some people said you had a kind of magic touch when it came to fixing machines. Call it a dull way of living, but being plunged into a world where it was thrive or die, being a useful hand at repairing droids proved incredibly beneficial.

When the order ransacked your village, in need of a crew to fix up a ship that had crash landed nearby. It wasn’t until they started pulling out blasters and yelling threats that someone threw you into the line of fire by claiming you were the best in town at engineering. It was true of course, but the candour had meant you were dragged at gunpoint to the ship and forced to work.

You quickly realised this was not just any ship, but an officer's vehicle. Important, sleek, complex machinery. Not only that, its pilot looked royally pissed as he caressed a bleeding forehead and black eye.

His cold near-black eyes flicked to you as the troopers thrust you forward. “The villagers said this one could fix it,” They said, nodding a head in your direction. He looked you hard in the face, and you jutted your chin up to give some impression that you weren’t afraid.

Truthfully, you were shitting your cargos the moment you saw the saber on his hip.

“You know how to build ships?” He barked, almost as if he was tired of you already, despite the fact you hadn’t dared breathe yet. You swallowed heavily, the stone in your throat not quite dislodging itself.

“Some, yes,” He seemed displeased, as told by the slight tilt of his head, “Most actually,” you corrected yourself, warily. “I’d have to give it a look but with the right tools proba- yes,” You stumbled.

You had no clue what he was thinking as his eyes narrowed into slits. He nodded his head for you to approach the ship, which you did so promptly.

One small mistake and you just knew your heart would be ripped from your chest cavity in seconds.

Breathing in deeply through your nose, you lifted a gentle hand to the body of the ship. It hummed under your touch, as if groaning in pain from the damage to its body, and you let out a deep exhale, removing the control panel to at least pretend to be looking at the damage in the conventional way. You knew you didn’t even need to move an inch to discover the problem thanks to your superpower.

The parts of the ship flickered through your mind, each ticking over in their correct tune until your mind found the source of the problem. You had no clue how you’d always managed to feel the machines, feel every part of them with a single touch, as if they had a life or soul of their own; it was what made you so practical at your job.

You quickly assessed the engine was shot, along with part of the wing’s wiring needed rebuilding. You turned back to the unkind commander with the answer ready in your mouth, only to see him staring at you with something in between fascination and confusion.

“The wings-” You started only for him to cut you off.

“How did you do that?” His sneer shut you up. Normally people just took it that you were talented at your job, no one had ever caught onto what you were actually doing.

“Do- Do what exactly?” You stammered, chest puffing out in faux confidence.

He looked over you a moment longer, before igniting his saber and drawing it to your neck. You could feel the heat washing over your windpipe, the crackling of the weapon echoing in your ears.

You gulped, the bravery slipping with no heistance. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I felt the disturbance in the force. Are you really so stupid you thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Your face screwed up. “The force? What’s a force?” You asked, eyes flicking to the saber as he brought it closer to your jugular. It was then you crumbled, “Please! I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s just something I’ve always been able to do, it’s how I fix machines so quickly back home-”

“So you have no idea what you are?” He mutters, his eyes dark as they took you in whole. He saw the sincerity in your puzzled expression, saw how your eyes showed nothing but fear and helplessness, like a wounded animal in need of a mercy kill.

He grunted, thrusting out a hand to his ship. You thought he was getting ready to strike you with his bare hand, drawing in on yourself. It was then that you heard a loud groan of metal work, and your head snapped to the ship behind you. You watched as something strong began crushing the vessel, as if the air around it was betraying itself and began squeezing. The metal dented, falling under the weight of the traitorous force.

Force. He had said it himself.

Your head whipped back to meet his eyes, dark and ravenous for the truth. “Do you see? We’re the same, you and I.” Your mouth dropped open, settling for a nod.

He took a step closer to you, a gloved hand coming up to hold your temple, fingers gentle caressing your head. “You think I could do that?” You whispered, feeling something heavy settle over your brain, as if a bug had crawled into your ear as he touched you. You daren’t move away, something about his sharp eyes stunning you into place.

You wished to know what it was he thought you were capable of, the blind faith he was putting in you and whatever this force was you had.

Of course you’d always wondered what it was that made you special, and here he was offering you an explanation.

“You don’t know just how special you are,” He said clearly, dropping his hand. His black eyes flicked over your face that drew back in shock. It was as if he’d heard every thought you’d had, surely he couldn’t have. “I could show you just how remarkable you could be, just say the word.”

You gaped at him, stuck for words. The Empire were evil, they tore everything good up from the root and left the rest of the world to rot. You could never be one of them, never succumb to their ways. But you yearned to know what it was that gave you this power, yearned to wield it, perhaps even then use it for good; wanted to learn how to become as powerful and strong as he was. You saw how the troopers cowered around him, perhaps you could even hold that fear over them.

You looked up at him, his eyes calculating as they took you in. He could give you all that.

“Teach me,” You murmured back.

“Again!” He commanded, your chest constricting in an ache now familiar to you. It had been six months since he had found you and while you had come on leaps and bounds than simply testing machinery, you were even able to move objects with your powers now.

The Force as you had come to understand it was peculiar in how it presented itself in each user. Kylo, who you spent most days with as his new apprentice, had told you some were better at healing while others specialised in combat, though you were pretty sure he was trying to comfort you in his own way at the fact you struggled some days to so much as lift blocks than move people like he could.

Today being one of those days, where no matter how hard you pushed yourself, how hard you willed your hand to grasp the metal block and bring it to yourself, the damn thing would not budge.

“Kylo, I’m trying,” You grunted between attempts. You wouldn’t be surprised if you burst a vessel at this point with the exertion on your brain, “I can’t-”

“You are much more capable than you know,” The man retorted, and you felt his snake-like eyes watching as your face crumpled in effort. It was supposed to be supportive, but the way he said it was cold and plunging to your chest, as if he was tired of your dramatics.

It only served to dishearten you further.

“You expect too much of me, I’m no better than any child trying to learn this stuff,” You snapped, lowering your hand with a slap to your leg. You were tired, tired of all of this. “Maybe-” You willed yourself not to cry, “Do you ever think maybe I’m just not good enough?”

The past six months had truly taken your spirit out of you. Kylo woke you up early most days for the two of you to eat together before you had training. From there it was four hours in the morning, a break for lunch, then studying the texts he gave you on force users that came before you. Then more training like today's session, usually about object manipulation but he had been trying to get you to learn how to read his mind for the past few weeks. That alone was proving difficult since you were constantly on edge wondering if he was doing the same to you, the way his eyes darkened and jaw clenched making you believe he knew exactly what you were thinking.

It wasn’t so difficult to see with one look into your head that your every thought revolved around him these days. How handsome he was, how he occasionally would caress your arm when helping you to focus, which only worked to send you spiralling. How pretty he was when he laughed if you said something particularly witty over first meal.

You stopped trying, looking up at him tiredly. “What if I’m not as special as you want me to be?” You asked emptily. Seeing how talented he was only rubbed salt in the wound of your failures and had you wondering if you were cut out to be here for weeks now.

He stopped, looking across the room at where you stood looking hopeless. “You’re being stupid,” He said, but the way his eyebrows quirked upwards slightly told you he wasn’t as annoyed as he sounded.

“No!” You protested, shrugging your shoulders and rubbing your neck, “You keep saying I can be great, I can be so much more- but you don’t get it. I’m trying, I’m bleeding myself dry to please you and I just know I’m never going to be as powerful as you want me to be,”

He was losing you, he could feel you slipping between his fingers as you stepped away from him. He knew he was pushing you but it was only because he saw the fire burning inside of you, the energy growing day by day, because he wanted you to be able to defend yourself if the worst should happen, if he couldn’t be there to take care of you.

Kylo had not known any feeling like this before, as if the day he saw you fix his machine he had met himself in the form of another. Someone who could understand, who he could shape into an equal. His fondness only grew once he realised how funny you were, how your mind ticked in an entirely different way to his own, how you were not another version of him but your own in an entirely unique way.

He loved how kind you were, and gentle. Something he never was in this life. He saw how you looked at him, and he simply longed for you to realise just how much he cared.

“You are,” Kylo whispered, finding his voice before you could turn away from him for good. You looked up at him, hearing him mumble under his breath. “You can be so powerful if you keep trying,”

You shook your head, feeling as if this were the same thing you had heard time and time again, “Maybe it’s best if I just go home,”

That had his heart plummeting, “No, don’t-”

“I think that would be best for both of us. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time,” You turned to exit the training room, wondering how you would get back to your home planet.

“Wait!” He tried calling, and with three simple strides he had caught up to you and grabbed a tight hold of your arm, willing you not to go, “Please,”

That was a shock. He had never used such a word in the time you’d known him. You eyes snapped to his to see him staring down at you like a vulnerable creature.

“Kylo-”

“You can’t leave me, please,” He begged, pulling you closer, “I know I don’t tell you, I haven’t told you but you are already spectacular. You never needed me to be special,”

You frowned at him up at him, head drawing back in frustration. “Don’t take pity on me, Kylo. I don’t need it,”

“No, it’s true! It was never me that made you amazing,” Kylo said, drawing you into his embrace further, as if scared you would flee like a scared sand rat, “You were all that on your own,” He went quiet, as if debating whether to talk more before his eyes flicked to your sneering lips, “It’s one of the things I like most about you, actually,”

Your chest stopped, mouth struggling to choose between hanging open and remaining clamped shut as you tried to formulate words.

He liked you. He liked you, and he no doubt knew just from one touch alone you liked him. Of course he must know. Should you tell him how you feel despite that? He must know, you must make sure he knows its mutual-

“Just,” Kylo’s begging cut through the tangent your brain sent you into as it always did when you thought of him, “Please don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone again. You mean more to me than I know what to do with,” His voice was quiet now, each word breathing over your lips.

Anything. You would do anything for him if it meant he would keep looking at you like that, begging you like that.

You didn’t need to read his mind to know he was being honest, to know you needed each other more than either of your had ever realised.

#kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanart #adam driver #Adam driver x reader #Adam driver imagine #kylo ren #ben solo x reader #ben solo imagine #ben solo fanfiction

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multiplicity-positivity · 11 months

Text

Here’s some positivity for fat systems!

We live in a world where many people are shamed, forgotten, and discriminated against because of their weight - a neutral physical characteristic! For many fat people, simply existing as themselves in society can be a struggle. This post is for all the fat systems and headmates out there!

🌸 Shoutout to systems who formed due to trauma or hardship stemming from fatphobia!

🌻 Shoutout to systems who struggle to be taken seriously or have their voices heard by their doctors and loved ones due to their weight!

🍀 Shoutout to systems who are body positive, fat positive, fat liberationists, or activists for fat people’s rights!

🌷 Shoutout to systems who have been fakeclaimed or harassed on account of their weight!

🌼 Shoutout to fat systems who have no desire to diet or lose weight, and to those who do!

🌿 Shoutout to fat systems who struggle with low self-confidence and self-esteem!

🌺 Shoutout to fat headmates in thin-bodied systems, and to those who have been bullied by other headmates because of their weight!

💐 Shoutout to fat systems who are learning to love themselves as they are!

🌱 Shoutout to systems who are struggling to unlearn internalized fatphobia!

🪷 Shoutout to systems who are tired of being told that losing weight will “solve all their problems!”

As a fat system ourself, we know the world is unkind to fat folk. We want you to know that we love and care for you just the way you are, and there are people in your life who feel the same! Fat people are an integral and important part of the plural community - rest assured you’ll always be welcome in our spaces no matter what you look like!

Please treat yourself with compassion, and show yourself and your headmates kindness. There’s no need to hate yourself because of your weight! We are striving for a fatphobia-free future, but until then, keep your chin up and know that you are cherished and loved. You don’t need to be thin in order to be treated with care and respect!

Please take care of each other, take care of yourselves, and have a lovely day!

(Image ID:) A pale orange userbox with a cluster of multicolored flowers for the userbox image. The border and text are both dark orange, and the text reads “all plurals can interact with this post!” (End ID.)

#multiplicity #pluralgang #plurality #actuallyplural #system positivity #plural positivity #plural pride #system pride #fatphobia tw #fat positive #fat liberation

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sillyassonepieceheadcanons · 1 year

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Teaching them to say "I love you" in your native/foreign language: (Robin, Luffy, Sanji, Law) x GN Reader, SFW

Notes: [text] is supposed to mean it's in your language of choice

Whether they're saying "I <3 u" platonically or romantically is up to you

Summary: their approach to learning language plus how successful they are about being taught

Robin

In general, she's interested in learning the dialects of the world, and will ask you to teach her other phrases in your native tongue too.

This becomes a whole thing, and in the daytime the other crewmates can hear your voices repeating phrases like,

(Off pronunciation) "[I want directions towards the East Blue]"

"No no, you gotta say it like... [I want directions towards the East Blue]..."

When you two get night shifts together, a lot of it is now spent coaching her on the phonetics and sometimes writing the words out for her to learn too. Before, conversation with Robin was a bit difficult to achieve, so you're glad you're getting to spend time with her this way.

She's a very good student and achieves excellent pronunciation thanks to ur help.

Emotional language doesn't come easy for her, but after one particularly productive session of learning, she smiles and says, "Can you check my pronunciation on this again? [I love you]"

Luffy (+ a lil Zoro)

He's not an easy person to teach but lord you can try.

At first, you try to teach him + Zoro practical phrases in case either ever gets lost in a foreign country, but they both misconstrue sentences and always end up accidentally saying the most vile and awful shit imaginable.

You decide to teach them just one phrase, as love couldn't possibly be misunderstood.

"Repeat after me Luffy, Zoro, [I... love.... you...]"

"[Į... ļõve...ÿou...]" "[İ... łove... ou...]"

Luffy repeats the new phrase once curiously, and then something clicks under that big straw hat. He gets a great big smile on his face and starts saying “[I love you! I love you! I love you!]” as fast as he can to you, over and over. He starts going around saying it to everyone in the crew, who have no idea what he’s saying but smile anyways. Zoro acts like he doesn't care enough to say it in a he's-actually-just-too-shy kind of way.

Once, you guys encounter an enemy who speaks your native tongue, so Luffy says the only phrase he knows... declaring his love to the enemy, which baffles them but has you laughing your ass off.

Sanji

Actually it happens that he's already memorized how to say "I love u" in just about every language across the blue seas... because he wanted to make sure he could get his message across to any lady in the world, even if they don't speak his language.

Absolutely pretends like he DIDN’T KNOW though, so you can teach him and hear you say "[I love you]" a million times.

Learning foreign languages was also something impressed on him by his father as part of an unkind curriculum, so getting to experience it in a new light with you, as a man free from his family, is something which deep down he is very grateful for.

Will now alternate between saying he loves you in English and in your dialect when he sees you.

Law

Besides being good at fights, as a doctor, he has a very studious side of him too. However, he rejects having the first phrase he learn to be “I love you,” instead of something practical.

If you want to be a little mischievous you can promise to teach him a polite greeting when you’re actually teaching him to say, “[Good evening, may I be so kind as to propose my eternal love for you?]” If he ever finds out he’s going to get your ass beat though.

Wouldn’t seek out learning because he has other things to do as captain, but if you two are ever bored together he’d enjoy having you coming over and teaching him. Sometimes you like pulling out one of medical books and translating different body parts and organs for him to learn to the best of your ability.

One snowy day you find him standing alone on the deck of the Polar Tang, and maybe because he had something to drink that day, he starts talking to you about the Heart Pirate's crew and how grateful he is to everyone but especially you. At the end, you almost don't catch it, but you swear you hear him say, "[I love you]"

#one piece #trafalgar law #nico robin #monkey d luffy #vinsmoke sanji #x reader #gn #I hope what I'm writing isn't too cheesy. but even if it is. it's ok we're just here to have fun right

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befuddled-calico-whump · 6 months

Text

Get Your Act Together

cw: bad coping mechanisms, alcohol, bad caretaker, adult language

previous ///// Wildefire Masterlist ///// next

•°•°•

Chopper wasn't an unkind man. He managed the contracts of several assassins and regularly sent them out in the world to off someone, sure, but that was just business. And when a person dealt in that sort of blood, they could afford to be nice from time to time without looking too soft.

So when Cinder showed up on his doorstep like the prodigal son himself, two years since the last time he'd last laid eyes on the younger man, Chopper let him in. He put a bed in one of the unused storage rooms upstairs and told the kid to come down when he was ready.

Cinder was here for a contract. Assassins never came to Chopper unless they were after a contract. But right now, Cinder looked like he needed sleep more than a job.

Alexei Wilder wasn't Chopper's favorite employee. He didn't pick favorites. But the kid had been working for him for over a decade now, a favor to his mother, and Chopper had to admit he was more a little attached at this point. Death was a bigger part of life than usual when you called yourself a member of the Underneath, but it still hit his shop pretty hard when they'd heard of Cinder's demise.

Then, the rumors that he was alive, but a prisoner in the Tower, which may have been worse.

Then, quieter still, rumors that he was dead again. For real, this time.

And less than a week later, he was back at the base.

Asking to work.

Having Cinder around wasn't a big deal at first. Heaven and hell knew the kid could come and go in silence, so Chopper wasn't bothered.

But as weeks passed, he left less and less, and as soft as he was, Chopper knew he couldn't stand for it any longer when he finally went upstairs to check on him and a half dozen bottles clattered aside as he pushed the door open.

It was dark inside, littered with garbage and smelling of stale air and booze. Cinder wasn't in the bed, or even sprawled across the floor like Chopper had pictured him. He was sitting upright in the corner, eyes wide and wild and staring, legs coiled underneath him like he might spring to his feet and sprint away at any moment.

A half-empty bottle was clutched in one metallic hand, and Chopper knew both were, in their own way, souvenirs of the two years Cinder had been absent. The way the younger man flinched when Chopper cleared his throat wasn't lost on him.

"When's the last time you set foot outside?" he asked.

"What's that matter?" Cinder replied. His voice was gravelly, as if it had gone some days without use.

“Sunlight's good for you. Vitamin D and all that junk. Being cooped up in a room like this can't be healthy.”

“Hasn’t killed me yet.”

Chopper sighed, kicking a liquor bottle aside. “It's not an offer, Cinder. You need to go outside. You need to do something. A jigsaw puzzle, for fuck’s sake. You can't just hole up in my shop and drink yourself to death.”

“Why not?” Cinder muttered. “What's one more dead body in Neath?”

Chopper shook his head. This kid. As fond as he was of Alexei, he had a business to run. A business that was quite literally a matter of life and death. He couldn't be playing mommy.

“I get it. I do. You've gone through some shit. But moping in the dark isn't gonna erase the past. Get up. Take a shower. Go for a walk, before I drag you out of here myself.”

When Cinder ignored him, rolling over like he could block out his voice, Chopper stalked forward and grabbed him by his wrist.

He let go just as quickly when the metal flashed orange, hissing and shaking his hand.

“Don't fucking touch me,” Cinder slurred, his voice trembling. There was a look in his eyes like a cornered animal, and Chopper took a step back.

“Then get up,” he said, his voice devoid of anything sharp. He rubbed his burned hand against the front of his shirt. “I don't have to house you, Alexei. I'm doing it out of the kindness of my heart. If you can't get your act together, that kindness is going to run out real quick.”

After a moment’s consideration, Cinder stood, leaning on the wall for support, his head cocked to one side like he couldn't fully hold it up.

“Give me a contract.”

Chopper nearly stumbled over his words. "Now? You're drunk. Sleep it off, and we'll talk tomorrow.”

“Which is it? Sleep it off or get my act together? Give me a fucking contract.”

Chopper hadn't meant now, he'd just… gotten a little pissy after being ignored. At most, he'd planned to drag him to the bathroom for a wash, not send him on a job. The kid was swaying on his feet, reeking of alcohol.

But… if that was what it took to kick him into gear, maybe Chopper should let it happen. Maybe this would be good for him, getting back in the saddle.

“I'll get you one,” he said, shaking his head again. “Wait here. Maybe drink some water in the meantime.”

Cinder fell heavily onto the doorframe, fingers locked around its edges like a vise.

“Fine.”

Chopper turned away from the young assassin. He'd just find something easy. Low-stakes. Alexei was good, two years of hell couldn't change that. Even blacked out, he’d still run a clean operation, probably cleaner than some of Chopper’s contractors could do sober.

And if he didn't… if he screwed up and brought the law down on the base…

Well, every assassin knew his protection only extended so far. If things went south, Chopper didn't have to help him.

And he didn't have to let him back in.

•°•°•

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise , @whumpy-daydreams , @whumpwillow

#wildefire #bad coping mechanisms #bad caretaker #alcohol #assassin whump #death mention tw #nightposting so i may rb tomorrow

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our-transmasculine-experience · 5 months

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Sorry this is a bit of rant, but I hate toxic masculinity and gender norms so so so much because now I'm subscribing to them, and I cannot stop myself. Sometimes I want to wear a dress, but if I do, or even so much as think about it, my body shudders or I want to vomit. Because the idea of being seen as feminine even in the slightest way physically hurts me, and its all because of the way I was raised. I'm in an extremely conservative household, and there is so much toxic masculinity. My brother has fucking curls for gods sake, he is a cis man and my dad makes remarks about how its gay (otherwise sayings its feminine) to take care of his curls!

Now me being a closeted trans guy, every time I hear my dad talking to my brothers, or talking to other men when women are around there is such a stark line between the two groups. My dad and his friends and my brothers are MANLY MEN AND WOMAN CANNOT BE IN THE MEN GROUP while the women around me kind of drag me into the stereotypical womanly position and giggle and joke around and there's so much internalised misogyny. I had my mother the other day berate me for not shaving my own damn legs, her big point was that it was 'unhygienic' even though my dad is covered in hair. Then the real point came out, apparently not shaving my legs makes me look like a lesbian!

It sucks man, it just sucks. I love my brother though because even though he also as equally as transphobic as them, he doesn't subscribe to their weird toxic masculinity and honestly he's the closest I'll ever come to being out of the closest.

I used to think my sister might be in the closest but as we get older and she conforms more and more to my parents ideologies I realise I was just fooling myself. And I hate being like this, because my family are good people in general and their not unkind to me, or treat me poorly, they treat me really well, I'm really well off and I'm grateful to them. But if I ever came out, I would be cut from this family so quick it would make my head spin.

Being around all these stereotypes just feeds my insecurities because sometimes when I listen to the things the men around me say I know its so misogynistic and I know I should strive to be better than that, but I can't help but really want to fit in with them because all I want to be seen is as a boy. But I never will be. I really really fucking hate it (excuse the language) when the women in my family try to pull me into their side. I hate that my older brothers just see me as my dad's daughter from his second marriage, I love them so much and I just want to be friends with them but I'll never get that, my younger brother will though BECAUSE HE'S A CIS MAN!

Its selfish, I'm really selfish for thinking like this, because I live really really well, I have parents who love me even its not for who I actually am, and we have money. Seeing how bad others are living compared to me and then complaining about my household is selfish I know. I just wish these stereotypes would go away, I wish I wasn't trans, I wish I was a normal girl, but I'm not, I'm a boy, I'll never be a girl and it's the worst thing in the world. It doesn't help either that I'm bisexual and got outed by my so-called best friend and had to pretend it was just a phase that I grew out of. I want to scream, but I can't, and I won't. Because if I ever want to succeed in this world, I need my family's support.

I hate this, because I do love my father and my mother and my brothers. I just know they only love the girl they see. That's what I hate. My mother keeps telling me to dress like a girl, to be a normal girl, and honestly her acknowledging that I am not like your average female is the closest I'll ever get with her acknowledging that I'm trans. But I still love them, I love them so much, please don't think that they are bad people because they really aren't. I just cannot fucking stand how they continue to think that trans people aren't really trans or that being trans is 'demonic' its screwing with my head. I know they would never utter a bad word against a gay or trans person they met in real life but god the things they say when the curtains close.

Not to mention that all the stereotypes have ruined having children for me. I want children, I want to get married, but I can't! I can't get married! I can't have children because all I can think about is how that is the 'WOMAN'S POSITION' EVEN THOUGH ITS NOT! But if I ever have kids or get married, I will be shoved right into the 'I told you so' 'You're a woman!' I will be put in the feminine box, and I hate it! I will just be another woman who got married to a guy that pretends to be nice in public but is not so nice at best and full on abusive at worst behind the scenes which seems to be the constant with every woman I know. God forbid I ever married a woman!

Sorry that this was long, I really needed to rant. I'm honestly so grateful that the internet exists because I can't be out in real life, but I can be out online, even if no one actually knows who I am. Thank you for listening have a great day! I love your page so much it brings me so much comfort and joy!

i would get tf out of that environment as soon as you can. never apologize for feeling unhappy with that situation because most people would be, too. that sounds horrible, and i’m really really sorry that you have to go through that.

best of luck, brother.

#transgender #lgbt #transmasc #lgbtq #queer #trans #ftm #trans guy #trans boy #trans man

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almost-a-class-act · 5 months

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For @mutantmanifesto - I hope you weren't kidding about liking the zombie AU! Happy birthday my friend, here's some NSFW luztoye.

Joe hears him coming up the stairs long before he reaches the doorway to their bedroom. He thinks George does it on purpose, these days - makes enough noise that Joe has plenty of forewarning. He doesn't exactly know why, but he guesses it has something to do with his own propensity for being on his own since the bite.

You won't be alone in a second, those footsteps say. Put your sad shit away.

Which is uncharitable, probably. (Definitely.) But the thought fits itself into place anyway and won't be dislodged.

"Hey." George pushes open the mostly-closed door and spots Joe sitting on the bed. He'd been doing the physio the Doc had told him to try, but it's exhausting and frustrating and sometimes he doesn't have it in him to finish.

Sometimes he sits by himself, not bored or upset or anything else, just - foggy. Just gazing into space. George never knows what to do with that, so Joe pretends he hasn't been doing it.

"Hey," he replies. "Just finishing my stretching."

George purposefully closes the door behind him and ambles closer, overly casual. "How's that going?"

"It's fine."

"Fine, huh." It's a game they play at this point, Joe saying nothing that matters and George playing along. Joe knows it's destroying them. He can't tell if George does, too. Neither of them do anything about it, and the game continues. "That's good. You, uh. Want to come down to dinner?"

Joe shakes his head. "I'll come get something later." When there's no one around.

George regards him for a moment. He never used to hang back like this. Joe wishes he would cut it out, but you can't call out someone else's reaction unless you want them to call out yours. "Can we talk for a second?"

Joe takes a breath. "About what?"

George has one of those faces not cut out for this kind of conversation. Joe keeps expecting him to smile, even when it doesn't make sense. "Kind of feel like we hit a wall, Joe."

Joe eyes him, and then drops his gaze to the bedspread. "Yeah."

"I know it's not me," George says. "At least, I think it's not me - that you're sick of me, I mean." He hesitates. "You can tell me if I'm wildly misinterpreting and you want me to fuck off."

"It's not you," Joe grinds out.

"Yeah, good. That's good." There's the smile Joe had been expecting. There's more relief in it than he'd like there to be. "I thought maybe... I don't know. Maybe it's stupid. But I thought we could try something."

Joe doesn't know what that means, but he has an inkling of where it's going. "George."

"I know you don't want me to touch you." The words sting, even though there's nothing unkind in George's tone. Joe hadn't articulated as much to himself, but the dread that rose up every time George reached for him over the past little while is familiar, a bitter taste in the back of his throat.

"Not just you," he rasps, which is pitifully not enough, but he needs George to know that it's not him specifically that makes Joe nauseous at the idea of someone learning his body the way it is now.

"Well, I figured you didn't have a line-up of compact but incredibly charming radio techs coming by while I wasn't here," George says, with that crinkle of laughter at the corner of his eyes that is one of Joe's favourite things in the world.

He thinks about reaching for him, but can't make himself do it. "Thought I'd handle something like this better than I am," he admits.

"I don't think any of us know how we'd handle weapons-grade terrible shit happening to us until it happens," George tells him. "Can you imagine me? I'd be insufferable. A hundred and sixty jokes a minute, at least."

"You think you could double it?" Joe asks. "Without losing quality?"

George looks so deeply pleased that Joe had joked with him that it cracks him open a little, makes him easier to read - makes the exhaustion more plain on his face. "If I'm lucky, we'll never find out."

Joe hesitates. He doesn't want to do ask the question, but he also knows that there's nothing to be gained by kicking the can down the road. He can't guarantee that things will get better in a week, or two weeks, or a month, and he's never been someone who avoids the difficult things. "What's your something that you want to try?"

"I thought..." George sniffs, wrinkling his nose. There's that over-casualness again. "Would you just want to watch?"

Joe freezes. "Watch?" he echoes. The back of his neck feels hot.

"Yeah. You know..." The two of them are very different in some ways, but very alike in others. George looks uncomfortable to be saying this, and Joe recognizes that he would probably rather chew his arm off than get through the words. The fact that he's doing it anyway means he thinks it's important. "It's been almost three weeks since we sprung you from the hospital, and it's been pretty quiet on the intimacy front."

It's been dead silent, actually. Joe lets him hold his hand sometimes, but they inevitably wake up on the far side of the bed from each other. Joe's not even sure they've kissed since he woke up from his surgery, if that's what you'd call the butchery the Doc had had to figure out on the fly to save his life.

"I..." He swallows. Fuck me. He's not a coward. Neither of them are. If George is putting the effort in, so can he. "Yeah. That might be - okay."

George's shoulders go heavy with relief. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Joe has never just watched before, and he's not about to ask whether George has ever jerked off for an audience. He figures maybe it's better if they both pretend that they know what they're doing, so he reaches behind him to readjust the pillow and eases himself back to sit against the headboard, in that tentative way he does everything now that his leg fucking kills if he so much as jogs it.

George watches him get settled, something a little hungry in his eyes, and then slowly climbs to his feet. There's no preamble, no putting on a show as he unbuttons his jeans, unzips, and pushes them down. Joe's glad for that; the unbearable awkwardness in being the person having a show put on for them aside, in this situation where this is happening because Joe can't participate, not because either of them specifically thought this would be hot, he doesn't want it to feel fake, like a performance.

"There are a lot of lights on here," George jokes, sitting back down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear now.

"I don't remember you getting stage fright," Joe returns.

George grins. "You're right. I changed my mind. Get me a spotlight."

Joe doesn't laugh. "Take your shirt off," he suggests.

George gets that hungry look again so fast that Joe realizes it's been there since earlier, lurking behind the other things. He reaches behind his head and hauls that t-shirt off in one motion, tossing it onto the bed behind him.

Joe has seen him get undressed for bed in the past few weeks, of course, but this is not that, and the way Joe looks at him seems to give George the spur-on he needs to palm himself lightly through his boxers. Joe doesn't say anything, both of them zeroed in on George's hand, and the latter doesn't hesitate, pushing it under his waistband.

The outline in his underwear, the movement that takes shape beneath, makes it clear when he has his fingers wrapped around himself in the way he likes. Joe's throat goes dry at that soft sound George makes, almost pained, like it's been a little while.

"Let me see," he murmurs.

"Yeah?" George's hand is already moving smoothly, rhythmically, under that dark fabric, Joe's eyes on it and George's eyes on him. When he tugs his waistband down a little with his other hand so that he can pull himself free, Joe swallows at the way he's already half-hard, those fingers wrapped so securely around himself, specific and practiced, from all the years he's done this alone, all the times he had figured out how to get himself off as efficiently as possible.

"You want to help me out?" George asks, nodding at the drawer next to the bed, and Joe leans over without taking his eyes off him. He tosses the lube, and George knocks it down with his free hand, fetching it up off the duvet and flipping it open in one motion. He lets go of himself long enough to squirt a haphazard amount into his palm, and then he's slicking himself down, that hand twisting slowly.

"You look good," Joe manages, almost on a delay; he'd been so focused that it almost surprises him to hear his own voice. He adjusts himself a little awkwardly - this a problem he probably should have foreseen, but he's gotten himself accustomed to not feeling much of anything lately - and George is good enough not to mention it.

"I got good at doing this quick, out there," George says, bracing himself back on one palm so that Joe can see better, fixing those eyes on his face as if to make sure he's watching.

As if Joe could look anywhere else.

"Not like this," Joe remarks.

"Nope." George smooths his thumb over the head of his cock, making his own voice falter for just a second. "Sort of forgot I could take my time."

"You ever do anything else?" Joe asks.

"What, like finger myself?" George asks it like it won't make Joe's hands twitch, and he smiles slowly when it does. "Maybe once or twice. Not as good as someone else doing it for you, though."

If Joe could touch him without George touching him, he would. It makes him curl his fingers into fists in his lap.

"I want to," he rasps.

"I know." George's pace has picked up a little, his eyes gone darker.

"I wish..." He swallows around it, that ache of want that he can't act on.

"Tell me."

It hangs in the air between them, until Joe makes himself speak.

"I want you like that first time."

George ducks his head with a quiet fuck. "Yeah," he murmurs. "That was a good one."

It hadn't taken long - in fact, it had been the night George had come to the compound for the first time, after Joe had found him in the mall. Both of them were starved for it; Joe had had him up against the wall the moment they were alone, George urging him on with a grin and that big mouth of his.

"You wanted it so damn bad," Joe murmurs, and George has to sit up a little straighter, renewing his grip on himself.

"Not just me."

"Nah, not just you." Joe watches him sweep at precum with his thumb, dragging it down the shaft. He can't help but grind his own hand down onto himself through his jeans, trying to get enough friction to feel relief.

"I did fuckin' want it, though." George sounds less steady than before. "The second I saw you. Tall, dark, and built like you could put me through a wall. My favourite."

"Like I couldn't tell."

George spares him a glance, mischievous. "I would've let you fuck me in that RadioShack if I hadn't come too far to get my brain eaten over some good-looking stranger who didn't shoot me on sight."

"Only you would talk about brain eating right now," Joe mutters, prompting George to grin and then squeeze his eyes shut as his own hand briefly loses rhythm. He picks it back up, faster than before.

"Hey, Joe?" The tendons in his forearm stand out, and he's focused down on himself now; Joe takes advantage of it, to watch without being watched, to let himself want.

"Yeah, gorgeous."

"God. No fucking fair." George almost chokes it out. "You know how much I like that."

Joe does know, as it happens. "What were you going to tell me?"

George doesn't say anything for a moment, the only sound the movement of his hand. "Say it again," he manages at last, like he's straining to coordinate his thoughts. "That you want me like that first time."

"I want you like every time," Joe says hoarsely. "God, George. I always want you."

George gasps, a seam of sound in the bottom of it, and then he comes. His body curves around his hand, and he ignores the splash up his stomach and chest, maybe doesn't even notice, tugging himself through it.

When it's over, he gently unwraps his fingers and leans back, bracing himself on his elbows, still breathing too fast. Joe hesitates, and then reaches out.

George looks at his hand, then up at his face. "You want me to...?"

"No," Joe says. He's not ready for that yet. "I just - come here."

George nods, sitting up and tucking himself back into his underwear before he reaches for his shirt.

"Here," Joe says, and George passes it to him, crawling obligingly up to kneel next to him so that Joe can wipe him clean. When it's done, George sits against the headboard next to him, and Joe takes his hand.

The silence is much, much easier than before.

George glances his way. "That okay?"

Joe nods. "I - yeah."

George tightens his grip for a moment, warm. "Okay."

Joe is so damn grateful they're good at first times.

#band of brothers #fanfiction #roaroftheninth #luztoye

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