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lokideservesahug · 14 days

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A Whole New World

Part of the 𝓕1 𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

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Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Warnings: No descriptions of reader except she has hair, sexism, Abu is actually Max Fewtrell

Notes: Here is the first of two parts for the Lando/Aladdin au. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Princess Y/N has turned down many suitors over the years. So why is it that a certain 'Street rat' has captured her attention?

Word Count: 4.1 k

Part 2

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Throughout your entire life, all you have known is the confinement of the Palace walls you were raised in. You understand why you were kept in the grounds of the palace but it didn't make things any more exciting.

So with that train of thought, you devise a cunning plan one morning. No one could let you leave the Palace... but practically, could leave if no one knew. So that's what you did. You waited until the right day came (when the guards that always fell asleep were on rotation).

For a place that was wanted to be so "heavily guarded", it was surprisingly easy to sneak out. All it took was a moth-bitten, aged brown robe of your mother's, may she rest in peace, and a calculated amount of agility (that was all but taught to you in your lessons of grace and decorum as a child). When you finally step foot outside the Palace for the first time in your life, you are left awestruck.

Colossal warm-toned pillars towered over you; despite your power in the country, they make you feel insignificant.

Despite this foreign territory, you find that the city is easy enough to navigate, just as long as you remember the way you came. City life was unsurprisingly bustling yet the unfamiliar loud noises make you smile rather than wince. It truly was a nice contrast to your regular surroundings. When you eventually reach the centermost part of the town, a plethora of market stands decorated in all sorts of attention-catching fabrics line every corner. As you trek further, someone runs past you, pushing you slightly to the side. When you turn to berate them, however, you see that it's only one of many children playing - by running slightly too fast.

Your heart warms at the sight. However, your attention was drawn to a pair of boys, no older than about 8 standing in place, longingly staring at the baker's cart. You crouch down to their level and think about how best to approach this interaction with the first stranger you've spoken to in years.

"Oh gosh. Are you hungry?" You ask the scrawny boys. The taller of the two looks at you and the wordless answering his eyes is enough to act. You grab a loaf of bread from the cart to your side and hold it to the boy staring at you in what now appears to be awe. "Here. Take some bread." At your actions, the pair light up like children on Christmas day and proceed to run off with a newfound pep in their steps.

As you watch them run off, you hear a new voice begin to shout. "Hey! You are stealing from me?" Left dumbfounded at his words, you try and utter a response. "Stealing? No, I was just-" The man doesn't even begin to let you explain your actions as he cuts across you "Well you have not paid!" You see his eyes give you a quick one over as he continues "You either pay, or I take your bracelet."

Once more, you try and explain your predicament. "Sir I don't have any money" At your words, he grabs your bracelet-clad arm and begins to try and pry your jewelry from you. "Let go of me!" Despite your words, the man does not stop his attempts at removing your accessory. Your aggressor once more goes to shout in your face when suddenly, someone steps between you and the vendor. "Woah, take it easy man."

"Kalil walks away from the stall and she" The added emphasis on the pronouns makes you shrink into yourself "steals the bread." "Those children were hungry" This man's behaviour was outrageous. How can he be so cruel to those so unfortunate?

"Those children were starting. I did no-"

"OK. Just give me a second" After he speaks, your 'saviour' turns to you as the man behind him says "Keep your street rat nose out of my business! Huh?" The younger man turns to you again and asks in a soft, quiet tone "Do you have any money?" "No!" Your response comes as his hands easily find a place around your bracelet-clad wrist. "OK," His look becomes much more determined as he says his next words "Alright. Just trust me."

Before you can fully register his words he has turned around and you notice your bare wrist as he speaks to the vendor once more. "Here you go" You don't even have any time to protest. "This is what you wanted right?" He holds up your bracelet almost like a trophy and his actions make you sick to your stomach. The street vendor then sports a massive grin as he resounds to the man you thought was your Knight in shining armor. "Yes. Thank you." The younger man adds "Oh and an apple for your troubles."

By the time the fruit has left his hands, he has already turned and grabbed your wrist to swiftly guide you away. "Hey! That was my-" You let out a frustrated huff " I think not leaving without my bracelet." "You mean this bracelet?" The younger man all but huffs lowly. "Come on."

His actions leave you starstruck but as you hear the vendor shout, you begin to worry. "Lando. Thief! Lando." "Are we in trouble?" You turn to the man to your left. "Only if we get caught."

"Lando!" "Down that alley. The monkey knows the way." You'd been so wrapped up in the unwilling events that you had somehow managed to miss the monkey sitting on the man's (Lando you assume) shoulder. You can hear the vendor shout in the background but you're more focused on the freaking monkey moving from his shoulder to yours.

You go to protest but his gentle murder of reassurance that "You'll be fine" leaves you with no room to argue. As promised, the monkey really does know the way. You find yourself darting over and under places you never would have dreamed existed as you can hear the distant shouts and murmurs of the so-called "street rat's" escape.

As you dart around yet another corner, the man almost runs into you. Damn, he's good at this. You watch in amusement at his theatrics covering his elution of the guards. After kicking over some scaffolding with some Kingdom guards on, he turns to you. "Together on three." You repeat his words back to him to show your understanding. "We jump." "We jump?" There isn't much time for your confusion before he smiles and leans down. "There's no need to repeat everything I say"

He begins his counting and as he reaches the final "three!" He leaps from beside you. You look down at his safe landing but when he notices your absence and whips around to find you, you can't help but apologize. "I'm sorry. But I just can't do this." His eyes never leave yours despite the increasing volume of shouts "Look at me. You can do this." You spare a glance at the guards. Well, you have nothing to lose if you jump (aside from your life).

You aren't even fully aware of your feet leaving the ground or even your body in the air. Yet you certainly notice when you land tangled up with your savior. You glance nervously at the man and quickly detach yourself as he stands up and begins to run away. With no choice but to follow him, you find yourself running along rooftops and jumping (albeit smaller gaps) once again.

You lose sight of him for a moment but when you see the monkey from before look over and squeak at the edge, you begin to worry. That disputes when you see the man stick his head above the edge. "Let's go. I know somewhere where we'll be safe."

He leads you down to the ground once more. You can't help but stop and ask "Where are we?" His only response response "You'll see" as he grabs a rope. Suddenly, the sound of mechanical wiring fills your ears and in front of you where there used to be nothing, a set of stairs appears.

"Woah. Is this where you live?" He smiles in response to your words. "Yep. Just me and Max who come and go as we please." So Max is the name of his monkey you note. When you reach the top of the stairs, your eyes are greeted by a tremendous sight.

A giant cloth roof hangs over the brick space with smaller paper lamps hanging off the material. Your attention however is caught by the balcony on the far side of the space that you instantly rush to. You take in the city skyline for the first time properly. You shed your cloak as you began "I can't believe..." "What?" "I can't believe that we just did that. That we're even alive. With that chase and all of the running and jumping. It was amazing." "Tea?" He asks yet you don't focus on his words.

"Thank you. And thank you for getting me out of there... Lando? Was it?"

"Uhm You're welcome..." At his silence, you try and rack your brain for a quick lie. "Dalia! I... am Dalia" "Dalia. From the Palace?" Your eyes widen at his words. Oh no. "How could you tell?" "Well only someone from the palace would ever be able to afford a bracelet like that. Oh obviously and that silk lining is imported as well. It goes from the merchants at the Dock straight to the Palace. You look down as if you've been caught.

"At least not to servants" Oh no. He really was good. "Well, not to most servants. Meaning you must be a handmaiden to the princess!" You let out a sigh of relief at his words. "Impressive." "If you think that's impressive, you need to see the city from up there." He points to a ledge above the balcony and you turn in excitement to view more of this spectacle. You climb up and look upon your city in awe. It truly is beautiful. You mumble to yourself about how you should get out more (the irony not being lost in your mind) but Lando overhears your words.

"You should tell the princess to get out more. No one has seen her in years." "They won't let her. Ever since my-" You catch yourself before eyes dully slip up "the queen was killed in cold blood the sultan has been terrified for the safety of his daughter. So she's kept locked away." "It seems everyone has been afraid since then. But the people really had nothing to do with it. The people truly loved her." You can't help yourself smiling "They did, didn't they?"

You pick up a small, guitar leaned up against the wall. "Is this yours?" Lando doesn't look you directly in the eyes as he responds. "Sort of, it's borrowed." You then begin to play a tune of your past. "My mother taught me that song" He sounds almost sorrowful as he says it. "Mine too.: "It's all I can remember of her." You frown at his words. "You say you live alone? What happened to your father?" "I lost them both when I was extremely young. I've been on my own ever since. It's alright it's just..." "What?" He begins to make his way up the stairs to your level as he continues "It's a little sad. Having a monkey be the only authority figure in your life." His words cause you to laugh slightly. And for the first time since your meeting, you finally have the time to take in his features.

His brown hair juts out in many directions with one curl in the centre hanging over his forehead. His blue eyes staring at you are enchanting. As you look down during your chuckle, you can't but notice that (unsurprisingly with his lifestyle) his physicality isn't bad on the eyes either. His words bring you back to reality as he continues.

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm" "Trapped." You finish his words off, knowing exactly the feeling. You continue as his gaze fixes on you again "Like you can't escape what you were born into?" He murmurs a quiet "yes" whilst nodding. The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes when you both hear the shouts of sailors coming to Dock. "Welcome Prince Anders" the guards exclaim. A giant extravagant ship, carrying a royal crest on the sail shatters your brief, calm fantasy.

"I have to get back to the Palace!" "This way." Lando nods to the way you came. And once again, you did yourself blindly following the man (after you pick up your cloak of course). You begin to gravel the way you came but with increased pace. Lando smiles behind you at your urgency. "It's just another prince coming to try and court the princess." You stop briefly. "Yes. And I need to prepare her... Oh! Do you have my bracelet?" "Yeah," He rummaged in his pocket whilst you scan the horizon to gauge how much time you have. "I'm sure I put I in here." His movements become more frantic as he tries to search for your lost jewelry. "Somewhere... Max, did you take it?" The monkey stares at him and just scratches his head.

"That was my mother's bracelet..." You feel almost, lost. "Yes. And it's truly beautiful." You suddenly come to a realization. "You are a thief." "Yes but-" "And I am so naïve" You quickly then away from him and begin to rush towards the Palace as a mix of disappointment and sadness swirl in your gut. You hear his shouts behind you but you can't even bring yourself to turn around and look at him.

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"Welcome Prince Anders" Your father's words become a blur as you stand at the top of the palace stairwell. You began to descend the stairs as you pondered. Your patience was growing thin with the amount of suitors coming to court you. It wasn't that you had an issue with marriage, it was just that you had an issue with the suitors that kept coming. Every single one was here for power (which you understood you suppose) but all had fatal character flaws. They were either too involved with the patriarchy or wanted 15 children or some other outlandish thing. You hadn't found the perfect suitor yet. You couldn't even think of what this perfect man would be like but you knew that you would just know. Your brain drifts momentarily to the blue eyes from earlier and you don't have any time to ponder on it before your father's words cut through your thoughts.

"Prince Anders, this is my daughter Y/N." You hear a gasp from the man now standing opposite you. "Wow. Why did no one tell me of your beauty?" "No one mentions yours either." Your words (arguably a jab) at the man only make him chuckle. " Oh! Thank you. They say that in Skånland. Yeah. Right?" He turns to his men behind him. They laugh with the prince but if it's genuinely funny to them or just to amuse their leader, you're unsure. "It is very amusing." "Is it?" Your words cut him off slightly. "We have the exact same title yet are never described the same way." Your father clears his throat and mutters your name as a warning.

The prince awkwardly nods his head in agreeance with your words when he suddenly spots your tiger growling slightly. "Oh! What is that? Wait, don't tell me. It is a cat... with stripes." A distant voice calls to the prince "He likes you." Once more, the prince continues to talk of his greatness by adding "Oh yeah! In Skånland, cats love me. Here kitty. Pst pst." He begins to approach your four-legged companion and with this, the tiger to your side begins to growl with increased volume. You aren't even looking at either of them when you hear a scream followed by many sets of laughter.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

After you kindly dismissed the prince with soft apologies and promises of friendship. You find yourself wandering the halls of the palace in search of your father. You assume that he is in his regular place in his office. But as you walk down the corridor, you hear shouts that you can't quite make out and then two murmurs of "Invading Shiribad is the" You cut across your father's words "Invade Shiribad?" You turn and look at the man accompanying your father. Jafar, your father's second in command and a true thorn in your kingdom's side sometimes. "Why on Earth would we invade the kingdom of my mother?" "We would never, ever invade Shiribad" At your father's agreement, you opt for a sharper glare to give Jafar. "But an ally I'm Skånland would improve our situation." You brush off his accusatory tone as your father answers him. "Yes. If you consider giving Prince Anders a chance-" "To rule? Father that man is power-hungry and clearly only cares about his own image. Even Rajah would make a better leader than him!" You point to the tiger sitting beside you. "My dear, I am not getting any younger and as more time passes, the urgency of finding you a husband increases. And we are running out of kingdoms."

At his chuckles you roll your eyes. "What...foreign prince could care for our people as I do? I could lead if..." "My dear, you can not be sultan. It has never been done in the 1,000-year history of our Kingdom." "I have been preparing for this my entire life. I have read every book possible, I have-" "Books?" Jafar finds a way to weasel know your conversation. "You can not read experience. Inexperience is lethal. People left unchecked will revolt. Both walls and borders will be attacked if left unguarded."

"Jafar is right. One day, you will understand. You can leave now." Your father's words cause you to huff in frustration but flee the room.

As you exit with Rajah following closely behind you, you hear footsteps pacing towards you. Rajah growls as Jafar says softly yet condescendingly "Life would be kinder to you princess. If you were to accept these traditions and understand that it is better for you to be seen rather than heard."

You refused to meet his eyes and after he was clearly done with his demeaning speech, you walked away to your Chambers.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Surely there is something I can do." You speak to your handmaiden, Dalia (the real handmaiden Dalia) as she rubs your shoulders. "Oh, what a hard life you lead. I wish I would have the struggle of having to choose which prince to marry. Oh, the tall and clever one or the clever and handsome one. A handsome prince wants to marry you, when will life get easier." You disregard her sarcastic tone "It's not that I don't want to marry. It's just... "You want to be sultan. But why would you with life like yours?" You turn and smile at her. "Do you remember remember my mother used to say? We would only ever be as happy as" Dalia choruses the last few words as you say them " our least favorite subject." You paused. "If she saw what I did today she'd be shattered." Dalia takes your hands and gives you a sympathetic smile. "She would also want you to be safe. And clean, I'll draw a bath"

"Jafar's guards on every corner? What kind of dystopia are we living in? I can help." You then look at the woman now behind you. "I know I can. I was born for so much more determined just marrying some useless prince!" "If you had to marry a useless prince prince could certainly do much, much worse than this one. Who's tall and dreamy? And he may be a little bit dim but you're only getting married. It's not like you'd have to talk to him." You furrow your brows at her. "But you'd much prefer that boy from the market." You feel your cheeks heat up. She laughs as she walks off and you can't seem to find it in you to disagree with her words.

As promised, she leaves to go to the adjacent room and draw a bath for you. Suddenly, a loud knock cuts through the quiet night breeze. That's odd. There aren't usually visitors coming to see you at this time of night. You open the tall door (that is surprisingly light) and you are met with the same blue eyes that have been plaguing your thoughts all afternoon. You don't even register your gasp before he is asking the same thing as he asked you this afternoon. "Tea?" He smiles warmly at you. "You... You! What on Earth are you doing here?" The sound of guards growing nearer fills your ears. "Get in here." You grab him and push him into the room whilst also surveying the corridor.

"I needed to come and return your bracelet." You freeze momentarily at his words. "What? Where is it?" You can hear his subtle smirk as he says "Already on your wrist." You glance down and as promised, your mother's bracelet once more on your arm. You can hear Lando compliment your interior design choices but your biggest worry is "How did you slip past the palace guards?" He turns to look at you, tray of tea and saucers still in hand. "I'll admit, that was challenging. But I have my ways." Once more, an accomplished smile finds its way on his face.

"Whilst the princess is out, would you perhaps like to go on a stroll?" You almost forgot about the Alias you adopted later... "Have a little chat?" "You are unbelievable. You can't just break into a palace and begin to walk around like you own the place!" Despite your reprimanding him, you feel a slight smile tug on your lips at his sheer boldness. "Well, you have to act like you own everything if you own nothing... So what do you say? I did find your bracelet after all." "Find it? You were the one that stole it!" "Actually, the monkey stole it." "He's your monkey!" "He smirks and says "Still a monkey." His words make you laugh and you can't remember the last time someone made you this happy.

"Who ordered the tea?" You didn't even notice your handmaiden return but at Dalia's words, you both quickly spin to look at her. All Lando can muster is a simple "Uh..." Before you cut across him " I did!" You go to move behind Lando so you can subtly communicate with Dalia. "For you, Princess Y/N." "Your majesty" Lando bows as Dalia shoots you a very confused look. but you respond by pointing to your returned bracelet. "Why are you being weird?" Dalia's confusion annoys you. You were trying to keep this storyline up!

Lando turns and gives you an awkward smile in almost support of what he thought your predicament was. You try again. You point to your bracelet and then to Lando. As if by magic, her eyes light up in realization of what you were attempting to do. "Oh, I'm the princess...Yes" Her recovery isn't the best but it works "And it truly is good to be me with all of my fancy dresses, one for each minute of the day and my giant karts of gold things and palaces." You gesture at her to wrap up her truly painful attempt at a lie. "Now it is time for my cat to be cleaned. She walks away and you can't wait to laugh at her display later.

"She doesn't get out much." Lando just hums in agreement as he places the tea tray down. "Clearly." Your tiger then begins to growl at him. "Aren't you supposed to be in the bath?" Lando shoots you an uneasy look as the cat sniffs his hand. Before you can think on it too much, Dalia's voice is heard once again. "Oh servant girl, this cat isn't going to clean itself." "Don't cats clean themselves?" You turn to Lando, eyes wide "You have to go." "Alright. But I'm coming back tomorrow." You go to protest but he continues. "Meet me in the middle of the tea courtyard by the giant tree when the moon is above the highest branches. To return this." He pulls out your hairclip and he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. "I promise." You see him walk off and can't help but smile at him and his antics.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, a certain second in command to your father was alerted as Lando entered the palace and the guards had finally caught up to Lando. He looks at the head guard as the man gruffly speaks. "Evening." Lando can hear his voice break as he replies. "Even- good evening." He doesn't even need to ask to know that there are more guards behind him and he feels well and truly stuffed.

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I hope you enjoyed this! As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1fau #ldah's writing

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mandoalorian · 1 year

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taste of heaven

Joel Miller x F!Reader [smut]

Summary: You and Joel leave the quarantine zone in search of some medicine, when you come across a variant of the Cordyceps, taking life in the form of a pretty red flower. Whilst exposure to this mutated fungus doesn’t prove fatal, it does have some lasting effects.

Warnings: explicit, no minors. Sex pollen fic, exhibitionism, f!masturbation, fingering, tit play, degradation, jealousy, lots of begging, yearning/pining, implied age gap, mention of drugs/reader being drugged, cursing

Authors note: Please reblog to spread this fic around and it’s not showing up in tags! My requests & commissions are officially OPEN again! If you have any questions drop me a private message.

Masterlist / Want to support me further?

'Nature vs. nurture' has been a discussion which had dominated centuries of wonder, and even in the year 2023, when the world had been wiped clean from humanity and only the hardened walked the streets, it was something that still preyed on your mind. The theory could be applied in many aspects; but one that you couldn’t quite navigate no matter how hard you tried, was how you had lasted this long living in a war-torn world. You often reflected on how you had kept yourself so clean and away from infected and bad people. You figured that for the first few years you had just gotten lucky. Your state was notified of the Cordyceps Infection before it hit and so you were given the opportunity to escape your city early. They were already building Quarantine Zone’s and conscripting Fedra military in August.

Until Christmas 2003, you stuck by your family. They were with you, alive, for the first three months of the outbreak. By this point, the Cordyceps infection wasn’t exactly seen as a ‘permanent’ thing and the government had yet to give up on finding a cure. One by one you lost your parents, grandparents and siblings, but not before you found solitude in a Quarantine Zone northwest of Rhode Island.

Those fragments of peace and liberty lasted a whole three years before Fedra wiped the town clean, and you had no choice but to evacuate. You headed towards Massachusetts, stopping by different QZ's, meeting new folk along your way.

But nothing was permanent. Ten years ago you found a home in Boston Quarantine Zone.

It wasn't a nice place, full of selfish people doing what they needed to do to get by. Rats on every corner, literal and personified, and so you did your best to stay out of trouble.

You’d take on little jobs and run errands to earn ration cards, and you would follow Fedra's orders to a tee. If there was such thing as a 'golden girl' in this world... well, that would be you.

And then you met Joel.

Joel wasn't a good guy, and he made sure you knew that when you first laid eyes on him. He was ruthless; a killer, and the type of person you should’ve stayed away from. You’d survived this long by keeping away from guys like him and yet, you found yourself drawn to him. There was something about his rugged handsomeness and dedication to survival that appealed to you. When you first met him, you noted that he was a man of a few words. He rarely offered you even a glance and if he did give care to give you his time of day, it would be nothing less than to mumble a warning to you.

It took Joel a while to warm up to you. The man seemed more than satisfied with his partner, Tess, than to even want to give you even just a bit of the minimal attention that you craved. You were unsure of Tess. She was very beautiful, with shoulder-length wavy hair and bright green eyes. You wondered if she and Joel were anything serious, or if they were merely just friends, or perhaps something in between. The pair were inseparable and often participated in smuggling runs together, or were hired as bounty hunters.

It was a smokey grey morning when Joel entered the makeshift QZ pharmacy where Fedra had you working. His dark eyes appeared sunken in and tired, a deep frown crossed his lips.

“I need fentanyl, morphine, oxycodone... something to take away pain.”

He was avoidant of eye contact, looking uncomfortable to even have to ask you of this.

Your jaw slackened slightly and you furrowed your eyebrows together at the man's request. “Are you- are you okay?”

Joel scoffed and rolled his tongue over his lower lip. “It’s not for me.” He snapped back, already becoming irritated that you were questioning his request. It had nothing to do with you.

Unamused by his attitude, you decided on shutting him down immediately. “I don't. We don't sell opioids here.” you glanced away from the man, feeling your cheeks become hot under his stern gaze. Now he was making eye contact and he knew exactly how to intimidate you. If Joel was anything, he was determined and if Joel wanted something he made sure he’d get it, no matter the means or consequences.

“Fedra don't permit anything as... strong as that to be traded in the QZ.”

Joel grunted and slammed his fists on the cashier desk. “Don't play coy with me, girl,” he sneered, hissing through his teeth. “can’t have been the first person to come in and ask for this. You have to know where I can get it from.”

You swallowed, looking around the empty pharmacy for answers. “I know someone,” you said timidly. “Well, know of someone.”

“Take me to them.” Joel demanded, without missing a beat. His desperation was becoming clear.

Seeing your hesitation, Joel brought his fingers down to the pistol that he'd stuffed in the back of his jeans, having been used to being able to make a sufficient threat. But then, before making any rash judgement, he stopped himself and placed a hand on the desk in front of you. He couldn't hold you at gunpoint. You were sweet, kind, and soft. In the many years of knowing him, you had been nothing but nice to Joel. It would be wrong to scare you like that.

Adjusting his composure, Joel took a deep breath and let his body relax. He could ease up around you. You wouldn't even hurt a fly; let alone pull any stunts on someone like him.

“Please." he said quietly, his brown eyes now appearing to be more pleasing than harsh. He could read you like an open book and he knew exactly how to wrap himself around you. You huffed out a sigh and contemplated giving him the information that he so desired.

“There's a guy I've heard Simone talk about. He's housed up on the outskirts of Boston, about a three-hour hike from here. He's her dealer. He'll have what you're looking for, but Joel…" you reluctantly placed your hand down on top of the desk, next to his. “It's in Fairmount. But I don't feel comfortable leaving the QZ. I could get in trouble. And if this is for you— or your own personal dealing, then—”

And for the first time in weeks, Joel's lips curled into a small smile. He moved his hand over yours and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You'll be okay,” he promised, and from the longing look in his eyes, you believed him.

“Can I ask, who is the medicine for?” you interrogated shyly after a few moments of silence. Joel's rough hands were still atop yours.

Joel broke eye contact with you. If he wanted you to be fully on board, then he had to start being honest. “Tess.”

“Is she okay?” you became alarmed, moving your hand away from Joel and already beginning to grab your supplies for the journey.

“She got into a fight with Robert and his men, she's badly beaten up. She just needs something strong to help her fight through it. She'll be okay. She's tough.” Joel wanted to curse himself for offering you so much information, knowing that Tess would've been mortified if she'd learned that he was telling you all of this. But he really needed your help.

“We best get going then,” you said, grabbing your rucksack from behind the countertop.

For a brief second, Joel admired your dedication to helping Tess. It bewildered him a little, knowing that Tess didn't exactly care enough about you to help you the same. Tess often muttered snide words about your inability to shoot a gun or your law-abiding attitude. She hated the way you would sink under authority, but Joel understood it. He understood that everyone had their different ways of surviving, and as long as it was working, then he wasn't one to judge. But right now, that didn't matter. Joel was just thankful that you'd agreed to go with him.

———

Somewhere along the journey, you noticed a shrub peppered with four-petaled flours, painted red with golden pollen in the centre. You’d never seen anything like them before, and you had studied horticulture a few years back in Rhode Island QZ. You found yourself magnetised by their beauty, and with Joel a few yards back from you, you decided to take some time to analyse the plant. Picking one from the bush, you rubbed the soft petals between your fingers and let the grains of pollen sink into your skin. When Joel got nearer, you stuffed the flower in your jacket pocket and continued walking alongside him.

You were about an hour away from Fairmount when you started to get dizzy. You weren’t hallucinating but your perception of your surroundings had certainly changed. The road ahead seemed short and thick and upon the horizon was a glowing pink line.

“Do you see that?” You asked Joel, squinting your eyes as you extended your hand to point to the horizon.

Joel tried following your moving index finger but shook his head. “You’re pointing at everything and nothing. C’mon let's keep going.”

It started out with a burning sensation, your loins ignited and blazed inside of you. You tried to regulate your breathing and found yourself slowly losing concentration on whatever Joel was saying. You wanted to pay attention, you really did. You loved his voice, it was like honey and velvet and there was something about that damned Texan accent of his… you didn’t notice it before, but you were certainly noticing it now. Your nipples felt tender as they hardened and poked out from underneath your shirt and you silently prayed that they weren’t visible through your denim jacket. The air around you was suddenly humid and thick and moist. Moist… you let out a small whimper and stopped dead in your tracks.

Joel stopped too. “Are you okay?” he asked, observing your sudden reaction to the forbidden flower.

“I just need a second to catch my breath.” You exhaled, closing your eyes and desperately trying to cling onto oxygen. Joel glanced back at the trail you’d both been walking along. There had hardly been an incline.

Joel gave you a few moments and when you finally opened your eyes, you offered him a queasy yet confident smile.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled. “Let’s keep going. Nearly there now. What were you saying about the—ah, fuck.” You stopped again, feeling a sudden wetness in your panties. Bolts of electricity were shooting up and down your body and within just a matter of seconds, you felt the primal need for something to fill you.

You looked at Joel and then looked away.

Joel said your name softly, drawled it out slowly like he was trying not to spook you. You refused to make eye contact with him, looking down at your feet.

“Don’t lie to me,” Joel said. He placed a hand on your arm and you flinched away from him. “What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, pressing your thighs together hoping for some kind of relief to the ache between your legs. You’re looked around your surroundings, finding a large rock just a few acres away. Ignoring Joel, you sat down and he followed you on your tail.

This was embarrassing. This was so embarrassing.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” you admitted, dabbing at the beads of sweat that laced your hairline. “I feel hot and heavy and it’s hard to breathe, I feel like my clothes are constraining me and I’m… I feel…”

Joel crooked his head to one side.

“Joel,” you whispered. “Fuck Joel, fuck…” you hissed through your teeth. “Joel, Joel…” you panted his name like it was a sacred prayer. Joel would’ve been lying if he said hearing you chant his name like that didn’t turn him on.

Extending your arms, you reached out towards the man. He obliged, coming closer and kneeling down in front of you. He placed both of his hands on your thighs to illustrate comfort and gazed into your eyes.

“What is it?” he quizzed further.

You nervously swallowed and reached into the pocket of your denim jacket before bringing out the now crumpled-up flower you’d picked earlier. The pale yellow pollen slipped between your fingers and you dropped the flower on the floor. Upon seeing it, Joel’s dark eyes widened and he leaned away from you.

“No, no, no,” you begged him, opening your legs and pulling him back into you, this time holding him as close as could be. “Fuck Joel, I— I don’t know— I don’t know what’s happening,” you squeaked, tears filling your eyes.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he shushed, but there was no denying the slight air of worry sprawled across his face. “What have you done?”

“I think it’s the flower… I just picked it up earlier because I thought it was pretty and, figured I could make a hair clip out of it or—“

“I’ve heard stories about those flowers,” Joel shook his head. “They’re a mutated form of Cordyceps… a variant that’s been growing like ordinary fungus, in environments, masking themselves as plants. I’ve never seen them before but… that’s what I’ve heard they look like.”

“Holy shit,” you whispered. “Am I infected?”

“No! No, no girl. You’re fine. You’re gonna be fine. These plants… they’re known to have a primal effect on their host. They want their host to reproduce so they release endorphins and, I… don’t know the science behind it but,”

“Joel,” you whispered. “Joel…” your voice trailed off, bringing your hands up to his cheeks as you cradled his face. Your thumbs brushed over his stubble which adorned his jaw and you admired the little missing patch of hair there that you’d never noticed before. “I’m fucking horny.” you breathed into admittance.

If you weren’t so worked up right now, you would’ve barked out a laugh at how ridiculous those words sounded leaving your lips. Joel swallowed, his adam’s apple bopping up and down in his throat. You licked your lips and waited for him to say something— anything. But he stayed quiet, only the slightest movement in his hand as he brought it to the inside of your thigh.

You tossed your head back at the gesture and Joel felt his cock throb in his pants at the sight of you coming undone over him. He noted the vein in your neck and the way your perfect lips parted in an O shape as he trailed his other hand up your waist and along your torso to the hem of your jacket.

“We don’t have to do anything, we don’t have to… I’ll be okay if you just give me some privacy and I can… I can… you know,”

“You need me and you know it,” Joel said gruffly, peeling back your jacket and letting it pool into a discarded pile on the floor. You already felt an air of relief wash over you as you lost an item of clothing. You hummed and leaned in closer to him, pressing your breasts which were now tight against your shirt into his face. “Say it.”

“I need you Joel,” you obliged. “Fuck, I need you so bad.”

“Tell me what exactly you need, baby girl,” Joel requested, bringing his hand to your breasts and massaging them through the material of your shirt. He pinched his finger over your protruding nipples and circled around them. He imagined nibbling it and sucking on them, and his mouth began to water.

“I need you, need your cock to fill me up. I want to wrap myself around you, tight, oh God, please,” you begged, grinding on the rock beneath you. The friction between the rock and jeans have you something, but it wasn’t enough. Joel discarded his jacket and unbuttoned his flannel shirt, throwing them to one side on the floor.

“You want me that bad huh?” Joel chuckled, reaching down to his belt and unbuckling it. With a clink, that was on the floor too.

“Need,” you corrected him. “This— this is fucking— fuck— I should be embarrassed.”

“But you’re not, because behind that sweet, good girl persona, you’re just a dirty, unfulfilled whore.” Joel seethed. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought that was an insult, but his degradation only spurred you on more and you let out a moan.

“Your whore,” you told him with a smile. You stood up and pulled down your jeans so you were now sat on the rock wearing nothing but your t-shirt and panties. Your legs still open, you dropped your hand to your crotch and started to rub yourself through the material of your panties.

“Ah-ah,” Joel chastised, taking your hand away from your aching pussy and interlocking his fingers with yours. “Look how wet you are. From now on, only I’m allowed to touch you, okay?”

“Mm, sounds like you want me just as much as I want you,” you teased him, even surprising yourself at that little comment which escaped your lips.

“I do,” Joel answered, bringing your hand down to his own crotch, allowing you to feel his bulge that was straining through his jeans. As if that wasn’t proof enough.

“What about Tess?” you couldn’t help but ask. Even while you were in heat, you found yourself thinking about what Joel and Tess got up to. What exactly their ‘partnership’ amounted to.

Joel smirked and pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. “You jealous?” he mumbled against your skin. The low octave of his voice sent vibrations through your body. He licked a stripe down to your collar bone.

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head.

Every touch of his left a stain of fire.

“I think you are,” Joel teased. “You get jealous thinking about me fucking Tess— bending her over and taking her from behind.”

You groaned. “Fuck you,” you whined, running your fingers through his greying brown hair.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” Joel chuckled.

Then, something caught your attention. You were drugged— ‘under the influence’— if you wanted a nicer way to put it. You wanted Joel but you had that damn mutated flower to blame, and yet Joel… this was raw. This was all him. He had nothing to blame other than himself because the truth is, he’s wanted you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

“I fuck Tess,” he announced and you felt your face sour at his declaration. “But I wish it was you every damn time.”

You huffed as you let him take off your t-shirt. His eyes widened when he saw you weren’t even wearing a bra.

“Somehow I doubt that,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes.

“Let me prove it to you.” Joel replied, this time his words holding the utmost meaning.

Joel unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his knees, alongside his boxer shorts, revealing his long, thick cock. It was perfect, the dark pink head already leaking with milky white trails of precum.

“You’re huge.” you couldn’t help but gasp out, making Joel laugh. You immediately eased at the sound of his chuckle. It wasn’t teasing or fake, but it was genuine and authentic. Dare you say, cute.

But the little butterflies that fluttered in the pit of your stomach were short-lived. Your loins ached even more just at the mere sight of him and you eagerly ditched your panties within seconds. Leaning back, you made yourself as comfortable as you could be atop of the rock and spread your legs for him. What a sight to behold, you were.

Joel admired your glistening folds as he eye-fucked your entire naked body. You brought your hands to your tits and began to play with them as you let him observe you.

“Please Joel,” you begged. “Let me feel you.”

Joel hovered over you and pressed his cock between your folds, rubbing the tip up and down, separating you. Obscene and lewd wet noises filled the quiet atmosphere as Joel gathered your juices on his manhood.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Joel sighed, before bringing a thumb to your clit. He began to draw circles over the bundle of nerves, causing your body to jolt with the overbearing rush of pleasure. You knew you wouldn’t last long and you could feel your orgasm begin to creep upon you. But you needed more.

“Fuck me Joel, I need you inside of me.”

“Like this?” Joel asked and with one smooth motion, Joel thrusted his cock inside of you, your wet walls squeezing around him. “Oh shit.” he croaked out, taking a moment to adjust himself to the ethereal feeling of you wrapped around him.

“Yes, just like that,” you praised. “Move now, please.”

For the first time, Joel followed your instruction without any tormenting or teasing. He’d wanted this just as bad as you did. Joel rocked his hips into you, building up a rhythm that you just couldn’t resist. His movements began to set out a pace but in time he quickened himself, focusing on getting closer to his high as he felt your own body quiver and shake underneath him. You knew he was close when his thrusts became sloppy and he chanted your name under his breath.

Joel delved his face into your neck and you screamed as your climax came crushing down. Joel felt it too— the effect of your orgasm and what it had done to your body. Without any warning, Joel shot ropes of his cum into your pussy before slowly pulling out of you. The warmth of his seed painting your walls was enough to help you come down from your high.

Joel rolled off you and laid next to you, atop of the rock.

The sky was growing dark now and nightfall was approaching.

“Thank you.” you whispered when you regained your breath. You let yourself have a few moments to try and come to terms with what had just happened. By far, the best experience of your life.

Joel leaned over onto his side and looked at you, feeling completely enamoured with your beauty. You were still flushed and sweating but the effects of the flower had worn off now, and you were doing much better.

“Before, when I said I thought of you when I was with Tess… I wasn’t lying,” Joel admitted. “I don’t want you to think…”

You smiled, tangling your fingers into his hair and pushing his face down to meet yours. You offered him a soft, tranquil kiss and Joel moaned at the affection. Your lips were so soft, exactly how he’d imagined. If he could, he’d kiss them forever.

“Is she your girlfriend?” you asked after pulling away.

“It’s not like that at all,” Joel replied. “We just… we’re there when we need each other, y’know?”

You nodded your head silently.

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” Joel announced, feeling a rush of nerves and anxiety race through his body. “I mean, not the Cordyceps flower. And not just the sex. But I want to see you again, after today. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way— I know, we’re so different and I ain’t a good guy. Maybe a girl like you would be better on your own, but damn it, I like you and—“

“I like you too,” you cut him off. “Maybe when we get back to Boston, you can take me out on a date?”

Joel grinned, a dimple appearing in his right cheek. There was those butterflies again.

“Alrighty then.” Joel beamed and you pressed another kiss to his lips. “It’s a date.”

-------

taglist: @januarycolor @anapnovo-blog @pardebellesnuits @mi0o@supervengerslock@alitaar@bigpepperpicker@pedrostories@pedroprinces@

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x you #smut #tlou

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auteurdelabre · 3 months

Text

Please, Mister Miller? (FINAL) BFD!JOel x f!Reader

Words: 6.0k

rating: 18+

warnings: Infidelity, slutty Joel, unprotected P in V, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, (including 'slut') , catching feelings.

a/n: started as a smutty one-shot and y’all wanted more! I hope you like the conclusion for these two. Unsure if I’ll do a one-off for them in the future. If not I think this is a real nice finale for these two desperate horny sluts.

masterlist here

---------------------------------------------

"It was so weird," Sarah tells you later that evening as you both finalize your packing. "Dad said he wanted to go for coffee and then he just comes out with this whole speech about how much he loves me and that he supports my choices and he trusts my decision making."

She shakes her head incredulously, a beaming smile on her face. She's sitting on the edge of her bed watching you pack.

"Wow," you say pretending to be shocked as you fold a pair of your jeans. "Did you tell him about Charlie?"

"Yeah. And he was so cool about it! Says if I'm happy then he's happy."

You feel your chest swell with affection for Joel in that moment. Because he could have ignored your suggestions, could have ratted you out. But instead he listened, he digested and he learned.

"See, I told you that your dad would be cool about it."

You look at your clothes tucked away in your suitcase, feeling a mixture of emotions. It's bittersweet to be leaving the Miller home. Not just because of Joel, but because this house is a home. Movie nights, baking, laughing. You can't remember a holiday like this one in recent memory.

Even with Conrad's family up in Vermont their holidays were more restrained, more about appearances. Here on Rancher Street everyone genuinely likes to spend time with one another. And yes, while it’s been fun fooling around with Joel you’ve enjoyed the laughter and hair braiding sessions in Sarah’s room as she tells you about Charlie or Tess offering to teach you how she makes her special peppermint squares so you can make them at home.

And as you sit beside Joel at dinner that night, marveling at the way Tess has made use of the leftover Christmas turkey you can't help but press your thigh into his with something like affection. He doesn't flinch, doesn't move away. He just continues eating and talking with Sarah and Tess seated across from you about returning to school.

"I'm not really excited to go back," she confesses. "Gonna miss everyone around here."

"You'll still have me," you joke, knowing very well that she's talking about Charlie.

"Very true," Sarah smiles. Tess launches into how much she misses Sarah around the house. Your attention drifts to the man beside you, the man who smells so fucking good.

The man who you are terrified you have real feelings for.

No. It can’t be real feelings. For fucks sake he’s just sexy and you want him. That’s all that this is. If you like him them you’re a piece of shit. He’s married. It was bad enough that you fucked him over and over. Falling for him would make you pathetic.

Very subtly under the protection of the ornate tablecloth Tess insisted on, you let your hand stray to Joel's lap. At first it's a gentle rub of your thumb along his thigh, then a pinky edging the area near his groin. You feel him begin to swell under your digit and you squirm in your seat delightedly.

At this point Joel shifts, trying to shoot you a warning look but you're ignoring him, pretending to be fascinated by what Tess has to say about the meal preparation.

"And how do you get the turkey so moist?" You ask, pretending to listen as she goes into detail about her meal while you're stroking her husband's cock through his pants.

You know why you’re doing it; it's a feeling of being territorial over Joel which is useless because he isn't yours. Joel Miller is married. He's your best friend’s dad. He's in love with his wife and nothing can change that.

You feel Joel's hand on your wrist, and you think he means to move your hand off of him. You almost hum when you feel him curving your hand to grip him around the head, tugging slowly a moment before pulling you off completely. The silent "later" implied in his actions.

///

"Let's watch a movie after dinner," Tess suggests on as the dinner plates are cleared by Joel. "All of us together."

"Sounds good," you say as Sarah agrees before looking at you. You nod in agreement as Tess goes to make the popcorn and Sarah says she has to call Charlie quick.

“Behave during this one,” Joel murmurs from behind you. You feel Joel's hand brush against your ass as you pass in front of him in the hallway, squeezing and you hold in a smile.

When everyone returns to the living room Tess flicks through the guide and you all decide on a cheesy hallmark movie to watch together. You sit next to Tess and Joel on the sofa, popcorn bowl on your lap and you watch the film and for once your thoughts aren't depraved.

You all tease Sarah for sitting too close to the TV as per usual. You laugh at the ridiculous and predictable plot. The only time Joel touches you is when he passes you a soda you requested and his forefinger drifts over yours.

"We're going to miss having you around," Tess says during one of the commercials. "We've loved having you both here."

Joel nods, his eyes on the television. You don’t let yourself look at him for too long. Instead you focus on Tess’ smiling face next to you. You give her a smile, feeling your cheeks pinking.

"Thanks. I really like it here."

Sarah flashes you a grin from her seat by the TV. You feel a strange feeling forming as you look from her to Tess. You didn't want to like the woman beside you, but you do. She's nice. She's a bit bland, but that's not a crime. You stomach twists as you think of all the kindness she’s shown you.

Guilt. It's finally arrived right on time.

The movie ends and Sarah announces she's going to bed. Tess does the same giving a stretch. Joel murmurs something about working on some work emails, pulling out his phone and tapping away.

You stand, going to follow Sarah but Joel grabs your wrist as you walk by, stopping you from sailing by him. You glance down to see him looking up at you, brow raised in question.

"We shouldn't," you whisper before extricating yourself from his warm grip. You don't look back as you head to the guest room.

///

Hours later you find yourself unable to sleep. The ache between your legs is almost as bad as the crack starting in your heart.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

It started as a casual fuck, a simple need to feel him everywhere. The connection was palpable from the start and when he'd finally given in? Eating you out on the table, fucking you in the guest room, the truck, it had been magic.

But it's not just the sex is it?

No, it's not. Thinking of a real life with Joel Miller makes your body break out in delicious shivers, prickling with desire. Imagining how it would be to fuck him without fear of being caught, to wear his ring, to cook for him, to have his arm around your waist as you go to the movies.

Fuck. You're so fucking stupid.

A glance at your phone tells you it's almost three am. You push yourself out of the bed, starting to pace around the small guest room before deciding that you need some fresh air.

The house is quiet and dark when you creep out into the hallway. You decide the garage will be a good spot to cool down without alerting the entire household and you slip into it.

"What're you doin' in here?"

You nearly jump back at the soft voice. You glance over to see a small light from the corner, hooked to a woodworking table. Joel is seated before the table, a scattering of wood and tools sat on it. He's looking at you with surprise.

"I'm sorry," you stammer. "I didn't think anyone would be in here."

"S' alright," Joel says, tilting his head inviting you to stay. You close the door behind you before shuffling over to where he sits at his workbench.

"What are you doing?"

"Wood carving," he tells you. "Relaxes me."

You remember when you’d noticed it earlier, the collection of tools and small figures scattered across the top. Your eyes don’t rest there long, they quickly move to Joel’s handsome face.

"Why are you carving at three in the morning?"

"Probably the same reason you're up wanderin' the house."

His dark eyes capture yours and you feel your body responding in kind. Your nipples tighten under your nightdress. Joel's gaze dips to them before he's forcing his attention back to the table.

You watch him sweep away the wood shavings, tidying up the area. It feels calm to watch him do this chore and not for the first time you muse that you would love a life watching Joel do domestic tasks.

"S' funny, after the first time I thought you were a fucking demon sent to ruin my life," Joel says quietly with a smirk, twisting the carving tool between his fingertips before placing it in the drawer. "Now I realize s'the opposite. You got me and Tess back on track, you got me and Sarah really talkin' and you made me feel..."

He trails off, looking shy until you gently nudge him with your shoulder, brows raised.

"Feel what?"

"You made me feel sexy again," he says unable to look at you as he does. The corner of your mouth hooks up into a grin.

"You really didn't think you were sexy, Joel?"

"I mean, I know I'm not awful to look at," Joel says chuckling embarrassedly. "Just... Ya know. You get older; feel like your best days are behind you..."

"Not the case for you, I promise."

Now Joel allows himself to look at you, his throat bobbing. A look comes into his eyes that softens around the edges.

"You are a special girl, you know."

"Yeah yeah," you say rolling your eyes and flushing with embarrassment. You're not familiar with praise like this; earnest and gentle and not whispered huskily as he comes inside you.

You go to head back to the guest room but Joel's hand reaches out and holds you by the hip. You prepare yourself for him to push you to your knees but instead he urges you lean back against the workbench, your body tilted back between his legs.

You breathe heavily, feeling his endless eyes studying your face. His head moves forward and you feel his soft mouth kiss the side of your neck. You whisper a sigh at the delicate sensation. Joel's hands slide under your nightdress, coming to curl around the hem of your panties.

You think of Tess and how kind she's been to you and a new surge of guilt overwhelms you. You pull back, immediately hating the feeling of being out of his orbit but knowing you shouldn’t keep going.

"Joel maybe we shouldn't-"

"Don't start pretending you don't want it now," Joel murmurs up at you. "S'too late for that and we both know it. Get these off for me."

You know he's right. You allow him to pull your panties down over your legs before stepping out of them. Joel shoves them into the pocket of his sweatpants. Your face heats up as Joel's pushes your nightdress up until he sees the shine of your sex already glossy on your inner thighs.

"Show me the rest."

You bring up your nightdress, bunching it under your chin, showing him your tits and smiling when he groans softly.

His head dips forward again, mouth coming to press a delicate kiss against your sternum. You feel your breath leave you when his hands slide up and come to cup your breasts before squeezing and kneading.

"Beautiful girl."

You let out a soft whine until Joel's eyes narrow on yours. He brings his mouth to your cheek.

"Gotta be quiet," Joel whispers huskily against your ear. "Everyone's asleep. Can you be quiet for me?"

You nod emphatically, urging his mouth to your breast, hand at the base of his skull, tangled in his hair. He smirks up at you before his mouth moves to your nipple, eyes closing as his teeth begin to worry the straining nub. You swallow your moan at the electric shocks that zap through you. He licks and sucks, working you up before pulling back.

"Can't wait any more," Joel whispers.

Then Joel is on his knees, kissing down your abdomen, your hips as you quiver under his touch. His hands hold you in place as he presses lust fueled kisses down your body, invisible marks that claim you. Then he settles there, kissing just below your navel.

"Wanna thank you for all you did for me," Joel rumbles. You hold in a whimper, allowing Joel to take your right leg and shift it over his shoulder, opening you to him. You watch as he slowly licks a stripe up the center of your cunt, eyes on you the entire time.

Fuck.

Your hands grip the edge of the table, eyes shuttering. Joel smirks, pleased with your reaction. His hands go over your ass, skimming there and tilting you so that his lips can graze against your labia more easily.

"So pretty," he croons, licking gently, his eyes falling shut as he savors the moment. "’N so fucking sweet."

He kisses your inner thigh so slowly and reverently it makes tears come to your eyes but you blink them back when he gazes back up at you.

"You're gonna be a good girl for me aren't you?"

His full lips curl into a smile when you whimper a soft yes and then his mouth descends over your cunt, tongue piercing you. You groan in quiet harmony with his hands tightening around your hips. He flicks his tongue against your clit, growling softly when you whimper at the sensation.

"Shhhh," he hushes.

You cover your mouth with your hand, hips undulating against Joel's greedy mouth. He feels so good, so hungry, so desperate for you. It makes your body tingle all over as his mouth works over your clit, sucking gently as you buck against him.

His fingertips dimple your ass, pulling your cunt now firmly against his mouth. He presses his lips there giving sloppy open mouthed kisses as your spine curls. His nose nudges your clit, rubbing as his tongue laps and flicks.

He works at you longer and your fingers twist in his curls. You force yourself to memorize everything about the moment. The way his eyes are shut lightly as he moans into your cunt, the way his hair is so soft under your fingers, his body so warm against you.

You soon edge your orgasm, feeling that fire being stoked higher and bigger. It makes your thighs tremble against Joel's ears and he smiles against your pussy.

"Joel," you whisper in a broken whisper. "I'm getting close."

"S'not my name," Joel says muffled from between your thighs.

"Gonna come, M-mister Miller."

"Mhmm," he offers between your legs as his eyes dart back to your face, his mouth still on your pussy. "Show Daddy how his good girl comes for him."

Your body tightens and Joel hums softly in approval as you come for him, your heart thundering. You feel your copious arousal being lapped up by the man between your legs who sighs as if this is all he's ever wanted in life.

You swallow the loud cry that has been building within your lungs and cover your mouth tightly. So tightly that when you remove them moments later their imprint remains like a ghostly kiss.

"Beautiful," Joel whispers, pressing his mouth to your cheek as he stands. "You did so fucking good for me."

The sound of his praise lifts you everywhere. You feel lighter, you feel joyful. You want so much to please him, to feel more of him, to make him feel as good as you feel.

"You next," you whisper huskily, kissing his earlobe.

"Don't need to," Joel says, shivering as your tongue comes to trace the flesh of his lobe. You hear him trying to muffle a groan deep in his throat. "Just wanted to make you feel good."

Your hand slides down the front of his sweatpants, hand gripping his already hard length and smiling as he curls into you. You start to stroke him through the fabric, your free hand on the back of his neck, twisting in his curls.

"We have to do something about this," you tease softly.

"You make me so goddam hard," he breathes against your temple as if this is shocking, as if no woman has ever made him this hard before.

"Good," you whisper against his ear, making sure to drag the last syllable before flicking your tongue over his earlobe. "Need you hard so I can ride you."

"Christ," Joel groans gently, his hips jutting forward into your palm. You drag your teeth down his neck, feeling his pulse under your mouth. He tugs himself free from his sweatpants and you can see the lust in his dark eyes.

Joel watches you move, lifting your nightdress over your head until you're there between he and the workbench totally naked.

"Gorgeous," he murmurs, eyes roving over your body.

His hands slide up to cup your breasts again and he lets his thumbs graze along your nipples, gratified by your little shiver at the sensation. He watches them pebble for him, his tongue coming to drag against his lower lip. Your hand circles the head of his weeping cock, tugging as you flash him your most innocent smile.

“Please fuck me, Mister Miller.”

Joel lets out a long shudder sigh, brows saddling. You lean forward to nip along his jaw, your eyelashes low and slowly blinking.

"Fuck me hard," you tell him, tilting him to sit on his stool. You're pushing his sweatpants down over his thighs and straddling him. "Give me something to remember."

"I can do that."

You hold in a squeak as he grips you around the waist and tugs your sopping cunt along his shaft. He slides between your legs slowly, extending the sensation of entering you. It's the last time and he wants to make it count.

He groans when you finally slide the rest of the way down his length, gasping quietly as he fills you. You sit on his lap like this, ankles crossing behind him.

You both don't move. You just sit there, Joel's cock buried within you throbbing. Your eyes search his face as his hands come to hold you by the lower back.

You finally shift slowly, rolling your hips slightly. Joel's eyelids flutter as you angle pelvis, milking him as you rock against him. His hands splay over your lower back, guiding your movements, his eyes where you two join.

"Feels so good," Joel murmurs, his eyes barely open.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you know he won't kiss you, so you rest your temple against his. It allows you to hear his shuddering breath in your ear and feel the fabric of his t-shirt against your naked chest.

"You make me feel so full," you whisper, hips rocking against his.

"Good," Joel breathes.

“Wanna stay like this forever," you mutter, eyes falling shut. His arms circle you, holding you a bit tighter against him. You shift once more, feeling his cock throb inside you.

Your lips graze his neck, dragging over the stubble of his jaw. He doesn't move, just keeps still when your mouth brushes his.

"I'm gonna miss this" you whisper. "Gonna miss this thick cock fucking me."

Joel groans into you cleavage, his hips starting to press up, and his cock nudging inside your walls.

"Don't know how I'm gonna survive without this pussy," Joel rumbles, his hands guiding your hips to continue rocking over him slowly.

"We could keep in contact," you offer, pulling back to search his face. "Texting?"

"Don't know that it's a good idea," Joel supplies after a beat.

"Maybe not," you agree, pelvis tilting. "Too bad. I'm really gonna miss you."

Then something changes. Maybe it's the realization that this is too intimate, to slow and sensual. Maybe you’ve shown your emotionally caught up hand. Whatever the reason Joel suddenly laces his hands under your ass and carries you over to the far wall of the garage. He presses your spine against the cool brick, his breathing ragged. He thrusts into you, your legs still crossed at the ankle behind him. You hold onto him, unable to tear your eyes from his handsome face.

"You'd really wanna text me?" He murmurs.

"Yes," you nod.

"Send me slutty little photos while I'm here with my wife?" Joel pants. "Make me have to go to the bathroom and jerk off? Be my dirty little secret?"

"Fuck yes," you say excitedly. The thought is turning you on so much and you can’t find it in yourself to hate it. "Yes I want that."

You hold onto his shoulders for purchase and begin to rut against his hips. He pins you to the wall as he begins to pound into you, his teeth clenched and his eyes on your mouth. You bite you lower lip to stop from crying out.

"Maybe I'll call you one night," Joel whispers against your ear, his full bottom lip grazing the lobe. "Tell you how to touch yourself. Hear those pretty little sounds you make."

Your head tilts back now at the very thought of it. Joel continues to rut into you against the wall, his thrusts going harder. But his hands grip yours, pinning them to the wall under his wide palms.

"Lemme see those tits bounce," he grinds out, eyes fixed on your jolting chest when he fucks up into you. "Uh huh, just like that."

A thought suddenly causes you to pale.

"The doors unlocked," you tell him as you remember. The Joel of you first time together would panic and would shuffle over and close it. This Joel just fucks you harder with a strange little smirk on his face that you've never seen before.

"Then I guess I'm gonna have to make sure you're quiet."

His wide hand goes over your mouth, sealing your cries of pleasure and it shouldn't turn you on so much but it does. The thrusting increases in tempo and the slap of your skin against one another is the only sound heard in the quiet garage.

"Thought about fucking you in here so many times," Joel admits. "Wanted to fuck you everywhere. Fuck this pussy raw."

He's grunting quietly as if he's trying so hard to keep himself from growling. His eyes are on yours, his pupils blown out.

"Use me," you tell him behind his palm, hips tilted and cunt glossy.

He does. His hips slam into yours so harshly it takes your breath away.

He pulls back to watch his cock sliding into your sopping cunt. He makes a wounded sound, his eyes blinking rapidly as if he can’t believe its happening. He’s completely overtaken by lust, his teeth clenching as he fucks into you brutally, his taut belly slamming into yours.

"You feel so fucking good," he groans against your ear as he bottoms out again.

He doesn't even care about your clit or your pleasure right now. He's chasing his own high, desperate for release and that makes your arousal flood over his cock. He notices and gives a soft nibble to your neck.

"You like me filling this pussy up? Using you like a little fuck doll?"

You nod behind his hand, your eyes cheating to the back of your head at the vulgarity. He keeps hitting within you deep, making your body twitch in delight.

"Take it all," he pants against your jaw. "Take all my fucking cock like a good little slut."

You whimper in agreement, wrists pinned to the wall by his hands when all you want to do is run your nails down his back, marking him as yours. You want this to happen over and over again. You want him to use you, to fuck you, to make love to you. You want to suck his cock and lick the come he offers you. You want him to fuck your ass because no one has before and you want to give it to him. You want him to have everything you can give him and you want it over and over.

His finger starts to rub over your clit, his breath huffing over your cheeks as he watches you. You were already so close just at the friction of his cock between your legs. But now, your eyes flutter open to fix on his.

“I need it,” he tells you.

“I know.”

You swallow your second release, your spine arching against the cool brick as you come for him. He watches all of this with saddled brows and the faintest whimper escaping him. You moan gently, eyes opening to see him still watching you.

He releases your remaining wrists so both his broad hands can go around your waist, holding you in place as his hips begin to roll. His cock circles within you, stirring your ardor for him. He's so gorgeous, so blissfully fucked out, rambling about how you feel so perfect around him. His mouth is parted as he groans gently, eyes starting to roll back as his head moves to your shoulder.

"Tell me you'll come see me at college."

You say it impulsively but there's an edge of desperation in your voice. But Joel isn't thinking, he's cunt-struck and his hips don't slow.

"I will," Joel groans into your neck. "Fuck, I will."

"Tell me you'll fuck me in my bed there," you say as he thrusts into you against the wall so hard you see stars.

"Yes," Joel whispers, head dropping against your neck as his hips slap against yours. "I'll fuck you there, baby. Fuck you anywhere you want."

Baby. Baby. Baby.

He's yours in some way. In some small incremental way he's yours. You don't know if he means it, but you think he might.

"Come deep," you groan softly in his ear. "Please, Joel. W-wanna feel you tomorrow."

"Yes," he pants out. "Gonna get my come good girl. S'all for you."

He begins thrusting brutally into you against the wall of his garage, hips slamming into yours, hands gripping your ass so tightly it aches. You feel him release with you, warm and thick. You watch his face, seeing the pinched look to his features before he relaxes and his head tilts forward.

Your damp foreheads press together as you both catch your breath, your breathing starting to slowly match in rhythm. Despite the circumstances it feels almost intimate.

He lowers your feet to the floor, arms still loosely around your waist. You stand shakily, your palms against his chest as you find your balance. You watch as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants and leans down to grab your nightdress from where it's fallen onto the floor. He tugs it on over your head, smoothing it over your body, his hands lingering.

Your eyes flutter up to meet his open gaze and without thinking you press your mouth to his. His lips are warm and soft. Joel pauses at the contact, about to pull away but then you feel him relent, mouth opening and his tongue seeking yours briefly. His hands begin tightening around the pinch of your waist but then he must remember himself because then he pulls back, planting a slow kiss to the corner of your mouth before straightening.

"G'night."

He nods, watching you leave the garage, heading back to the guest room.

///

He's nowhere to be seen the next morning. Sarah notices it first as she passes you a bowl of cereal. When her stepmom walks into the kitchen Sarah notices that she looks frazzled and is muttering to herself.

"Where's dad, Tess?"

"I think your dad has a cold," Tess says with a frown, patting at her pockets. "He's in bed. Says he doesn't wanna get you both sick right before you get back to school. Don’t worry I’ll be driving you two to the airport. Don’t want you missing your flight."

Your stomach drops. You won't even be able to say goodbye to him. No quiet thank you, no last image of his dark eyes on yours. Just driving in silence to the airport as you mourn a relationship that never was.

The three of you eat a quick breakfast before you load up your luggage into the car. You go back inside for your remaining belongings and any last minute things left behind. Sarah asks you to take her hat to the car with you.

“I’ll be right there, just gonna say goodbye to my dad.”

You linger in the kitchen listening to the sound of his rumbling voice through the door and you think about waiting outside the room to say your goodbye as well. But it would look weird going into his bedroom to say goodbye. As far as everyone knows you barely know Joel.

Last night was your farewell to Joel Miller.

"Before I forget," Tess says to Sarah as you both load into the car. She reaches into her coat pocket. "Your dad made you this. Says he didn't want you to forget him while you were away at school."

Sarah opens her box and gives a little giggle. "Awww dad." She pulls out a small carved soccer ball. Sarah is at school on a sports scholarship so it's only appropriate.

“That’s so sweet,” Tess says with an indulgent smile. You nod, forcing a smile onto your face as well before looking out the window to the house. A part of you had been desperately hoping that his window blinds would be open, but no such luck.

You swallow your disappointment at having no tangible totem from Joel. No artifact to take back with you. No physical reminder of what you two shared and so you sit in the car with your eyes downcast into your palms.

"And this one's for you."

Your head jerks up as Tess says your name, smiling warmly and handing you back a small box. "Joel said it was so you could remember your time with us."

"Thank you."

Your heart hammers and you hurriedly open it, unable to stop your hands from shaking. Tess and Sarah are busy chatting in the front seat, giving you a moment of privacy and you’re impossibly thankful for it.

When you peer into the small box you feel your chest grow warm. Inside is a beautiful and delicate looking carved piece of wood. You recognize it as what Joel was working on last night. You gingerly take it from the box, holding it to the light.

A snowflake.

You look at the little carved snowflake. The same design as the one from your skirt when you baked together. The day Joel gave in and initiated. Your eyes pick up on a small piece of paper folded at the bottom of the box with Joel's messy scrawl. You open it covertly in case it's something inappropriate.

A snowflake never falls in the wrong place.

And his phone number at the bottom, written in small script. You feel your waterline spill over as you read the words once, twice.

Tess puts the key in the ignition and a sudden clutch is at your heart. You swallow the lump in your throat.

"Shit, I forgot my wallet inside," you say. "Gimme two minutes."

"No rush," Sarah says with a yawn. "Tess always makes us leave too early for the airport anyway."

You scramble out of the car, your footsteps a desperate drum on the pavement as you rush back inside the Miller home. You throw the front door closed before scrambling down the hallway to his room.

"Joel!"

You whirl the door to his bedroom open and see him sitting on his bed much like the first time you two were alone. Only now he's curled in a seated position with his forearms on his knees and when he looks up at you in surprise his dark eyes are wet.

"What're you doin' here?"

He moves off the bed as you hold up the small carving he made for you. He softly smiles.

"You're one of a kind, Snowflake."

You let out a sob before you throw yourself into his waiting arms. Joel holds you tightly, chin on the top of your head, whispering soothing words.

"I can't leave you," you tell him through hiccupping sobs, tears staining his shirt. "I-I'm in love with you, Joel."

Joel makes a soft sighing noise and it doesn't sound like irritation or malice. It sounds like pain.

"I know it probably feels like that," Joel says, hands cupping your face so that you'll look at him. "But this ain't love, sweetheart."

"It is!" You insist. "I've never felt the way I do about you. I love you and you love me, don't you?"

"Honey," Joel says and it's in a voice so strained you have to look up at him. He's staring down at you, his dark eyes glassy.

"This is just connection," he explains tenderly. "And you'll have others, I promise. So much stronger than this."

And you know he's right. You've known it all along but nursed this fantasy of a life with him. A future. Connection. That feels right when he says it. It feels right to explain what's gone on here. But there's a part of you that can't let him go. Not just yet.

"Will you come see me at college?"

Joel is thoughtful, brushing the hair from your wet eyes.

"Not sure. Gotta think on that one."

You nod, sniffling. You want to say so much more but you hear Tess beep the car horn.

"I better go," you say pocketing the small carving and giving him a sad look. "Thank you for everything."

You step back, your eyes full of longing as you stare at him. Joel brings a finger to your chin, tilting your face more fully up. His dark eyes scan yours for what seems like ages before dipping to your mouth. You swallow a surprised gasp when he finally, blessedly presses his lips to yours.

It’s nothing like last night which was quick and needy. This is slow and unhurried, his hands going to your jaw and tilting so he can lick lightly into your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and whimper for him and he kisses you soft and gentle. Tess beeps the car horn once more and you two reluctantly break apart.

"You're welcome here any time," he tells you, stroking your tearstained cheek with his knuckle. "I mean that. And if you ever need anything you just call me. You have my number now."

His sincerity is so palpable you can't help but kiss the corner of his full mouth gently. His mouth chases yours, sweeping another full lipped kiss to yours.

Your hand goes to his chest over his heart, needing one last touch as if proving to yourself that he was real.

"Thanks, Mister Miller."

He smiles. "Call me Joel."

#joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #dad joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fanfic #cheating!Joel

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author-morgan · 4 months

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Title: Daylight Rating: M Pairing: Arthur x fem!Reader Summary: Arthur always knew you and he would make a fine match. ...hiding all of our sins from the daylight... I've now collected all(?) your husbands for my infinity gauntlets. a late merry christmas and an early valentines for you boo. @mrsragnarlodbrok.

“SORRY,” ARTHUR MUTTERS, “hands are rough.” He noticed how you pulled away from his calloused touch as he pressed the stained damp cloth against the bloody wound on the back of your shoulder—remnants of an arrow after Bedivere and the Mage helped him dig out the bodkin point. It’d likely been meant for him in the heat of the battle and he cursed himself seeing you fall nigh feet from him, pulled away to shelter by his kingsguard. Even with the power of Excalibur, he’d been unable to protect you—an age-old promise broken.

You lift your gaze from the charred stone floor, looking at your reflections in a fogged-over mirror on the opposite side of the room. Focus has his brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. “You always say that,” you tell him, words slurred from the pain, exhaustion, and strongwine, and voice rougher than normal. This isn’t the first time Arthur Pendragon has tended your hurts and woes, and at this rate you doubt it’ll be the last.

Dried blood and sweat washed away, Arthur picks up the piece of tree bark with a salve prepared by the Mage to stave off the pain for a while and keep the wound from festering. Then, Arthur binds the wound with fresh linen and wipes his hands, kneeling in front of you—hands resting on your hips. You lay your hand on his cheek, thumb sweeping across his cheek, marred with dirt and soot. Leaning toward him, he meets you halfway, and you set your lips on his—a soft, fleeting kiss like the touch of butterfly wings.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you tell him, fingertips mindlessly combing through the scruff on his jaw. He straightens to full height but does so with a grimace. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?” You ask again.

“Just bruises,” he assures you, and this time, it seems like he’s being truthful, besides the few scratches on his hands and the slim, already scabbed-over, cut on his forehead.

Arthur sits next to you on the edge of the bed, looking toward the open balcony. You both can hear the joyous shouts and chants. Bedivere and the others will only be able to satiate the men for so long. They will want to hear from the one who led them to victory. From the Born King. “They’ll be waiting for you to give a speech,” you tell him.

“They’re waiting to go headfirst into the barrels of grog,” he amends, but if the out-of-tune songs are anything to go off of...

“Sounds like they already have,” you laugh. Tonight, there will be revelries for the victory against Vortigern and his forces. In the following days, there’ll be feasts to honor the fallen and growing lists of preparations for a coronation. But right now, Arthur Pendragon doesn’t want to be a king just yet. Right now, he’s content just to be Arthur the street rat, especially when you lean your head against his shoulder and link your fingers through his—and then he’s certain there’s no one else in all of England for him except you.

“HIDING FROM ME? Or everyone else?” Your head quickly swivels to the side, only to relax at the sight of Arthur approaching. You cannot help but wonder how he isn’t cold. He's not dressed anywhere near as layered or warm as he should be for the winter evening, but somehow, he manages to look cozy even in just a scarlet linen-and-wool doublet. Stepping back, your eyes flit up to the scarlet-tinged leaves, still clinging to the branches of the white-bark birch, before looking beyond to the fresh falling snow.

He stops at your side and looks up, too. “Was just thinking about what a bad influence you’ve been on my person,” you tell him, a small half-smirk creeping onto your features. Arthur tilts his head back in amused question, then stares up at the leaves and the silver sliver of the moon peeking through the winter clouds. “As I recall, I was an innocent girl before you came along and ruined all that.”

His blue eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest. “You’ll have to refresh my memory on how I did that, darlin’.” He moves a little closer, and you sense his ploy, twisting and ducking when he moves to grab you.

You face him with brows raised, smiling. “Such a brute,” you taunt, “grabbing at innocent girls in the castle courtyards at night. Is that any way for the King of England to behave?”

Arthur only rolls his eyes, trying to smother another smirk, and this time, he catches your arm as you move around him. It takes little strength to move you how he wants—pressing you into the trunk of the great tree at the heart of the courtyard. His hands press against the smooth bark beside your head as he leans in enough to look down at you. The glint in his eyes is mirthful, but there’s something else shining in his gaze too—you’ve seen that look a dozen times now, and you’re almost afeared to think about what it can mean. “Maybe you have a point,” he drawls, wearing that crooked, boyish grin that makes your heart flutter.

Your laugh almost catches him off guard. His hand slips down to run gently along your waist, the other toys with the hair at the side of your head. You lean back into the tree more, relaxing as your hands find his waist to rest on. “My father sends his kind, innocent daughter to study in Londinium, and what does this strong, noble boy do?” Arthur raises his brow. “He shoves her against a wall in an alleyway because he has no reasonable way of expressing his feelings with words.” He was just a street rat orphan and you were the daughter of some fancy lord from far away—opposites in nigh every way but more alike than you ever could have imagined. “I was never the same after that.”

His head dips down into the crook of your neck, nose training across your throat and inhaling the scent of roses and lavender. “No,” he smiles, voice low—more of a muttering husk—lips twitching as he pulls back, glancing to your lips and up, “but you’re more fun now.” Your expression falls flat, and Arthur laughs. It’s nigh impossible not to grin or melt at the sound and how little it seems you’ve heard it of late—and by Merlin’s beard, he’s impossibly handsome with laugh lines crinkling the edges of his eyes and a lopsided smile. Leaning further into him, his breath dances across your cheek, the back of his fingers brushing along your neck.

You exhale shakily, and Arthur teases you again with light presses of his lips along your jaw and neck—hands smoothing up and down your waist as he does. For a moment, your hands find their way to his chest before you remember how open the courtyard is and that anyone can happen upon the two of you like this. Glancing around, you breathe his name in a flustered whisper, hand pressing against his chest—the last thing a new king needs is rumors to turn into scandal.

Arthur takes a step back, giving you both room, but then there’s a new glint in his eyes. The playful mirth disappears from his cornflower eyes, replaced by something more serious—kingly, even. It’s something he’s been thinking about for years. Maybe even since the two of you first met by happenstance in the streets of Londinium and struck up an odd friendship. But over the years, Arthur thinks he cannot just call you a friend, not anymore. What he feels runs deeper than that, and given his newfound title and responsibilities...“I’ve been thinking,” he starts.

“And does it pay well?” You quip in a poor attempt to lighten the now solemn mood.

He rolls his eyes, exasperated, unable to hide how his lips quirk upwards. “Would you let me finish?” And so you do, unsure what he must say or ask that warrants such a dramatic change in his usual demeanor. Arthur reaches for your hand, the rough pads of his fingers curling around and into your palm. He stoops forward, lips brushing against your knuckles—reverent. “I’d like you to stay,” he breathes, straightening back to full height. Your brows furrow. “Here,” he adds, “with me.”

You know what he is asking of you—marriage—and it should be an easy answer. Yes, of course. You’ve loved Arthur since before you knew what the word truly meant. But given the events of the last few months and the precipitousness of his proposal, you’re left speechless, heart beating in your throat until all you can do is run to the haven of your chambers with tears pricking your eyes.

A LOUD KNOCK on the great wooden door echoes in your bedchambers. You rouse from sleep, righting the oversized tunic hanging off one shoulder in an attempt to appear decent at the late hour. Part of you already knows who will be waiting on the other side, but when you crack open the door, it still surprises you to find him standing before you—wearing only a loose, nigh threadbare tunic and pair of dark britches. “Arthur,” you greet, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before motioning for him to come in.

There’s still an uneasy air between you after the earlier events and conversation in the courtyard—his proposal. “I shouldn’t’ve….” he starts as you do. “I should not...” You both fall silent, eyes searching the other’s face for an indication of who will be the first to speak, the first to act, but there’s only silence.

“Yes,” you quickly tell him—the shock of his initial proposal has faded, and now you’ve never been more certain about something in your life. You still can’t say what it is that caused you to react in such a way—Arthur’s the only man you’ve ever loved, the only person you could have ever thought of having a life with, even before all this Born King shite. The answer is ‘yes.’ It had always been.

“Yes?” He repeats with furrowed brows, not sure he’s heard you correctly. “I’ll stay” —you reach to comb your fingers through his close-shorn beard, and he leans into the touch— “with you.” Forever.

He smiles, and it’s as though a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Arthur cradles your face in his hands, thumbs running over your cheekbones. You smile for him, and he leans toward you, closing the distance. His lips are on yours in an instant.

You answer his kiss, slowly at first, then with more fervor when you settle your hands on either side of his neck, drawing yourself closer. Parting, you press your forehead against his and meet his heated stare. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that?” Arthur asks, breathless.

Then he’s kissing you again and again—hands straying to your waist and backside, pulling you closer, tighter. And it fans the embers burning low in your belly to flames. Arthur breaks the kiss with an anguished groan—fighting a losing war with himself. He brushes back the hair falling in front of your face, the rough pad of his thumb running over your lips. “Tell me to stop,” he mutters—it’s almost a plea. And then he’s adrift in your soft and dark gaze, knowing if you do nothing to stop this, he’ll be acting on countless years of love and pent-up desire.

“No,” you breathe, catching his wrist and sliding his hand up from your neck—peppering his fingertips with gentle kisses. He watches you, lips parted and heart aching. Closing your eyes, you draw in a slow breath, and with a final kiss to his palm, you guide his hand to rest on one of your clothed breasts.

“Arthur.” You speak his name as though it is a quiet prayer. “I want you.” He pulls on the string at the neck of your nightshirt, loosening it until the gauzy material falls off your shoulders—puddling around your ankles,

Though bare, you still hold his clear blue gaze. He goes silent as he draws in a sharp breath—eyes dart over the length of your body. His eyes darken, though, a mix of lust and adoration. “Think this is the longest you’ve been qui–” He cuts you off with a kiss, and one of his hands rises to cradle your cheek—the side of your neck again—and his lips coax yours open.

You sigh into his mouth, hands instinctively dipping under the hem of his roughspun tunic, fingertips trailing over the taut muscles of his abdomen and the scar on his ribs. Arthur breaks the kiss, quickly shrugging off his shirt, and lets the undyed piece of wool fall to the floor.

Then, suddenly, he lifts you off your feet effortlessly. You hastily grip his shoulders for balance until he lays you on the bed—standing back to take off his trousers, and you watch him with a weird mixture of hunger and wistfulness as he strips. Arthur kicks aside his discarded clothes, then crawls onto the bed, making room for himself between your thighs—his clear and cold gaze burning with the warmth of the Sun and never once straying from yours.

You gaze tensely at his face as he studies you. His expression is greedy and appreciative, and the firelight glowing in his eyes just makes him look all the more ardent, and the longer he stares at you without doing anything, the more restless you are for him to act. You want his touch, his cock, his lips on yours, and all he’s giving you is this appreciative greedy stare, and it’s not enough.

Arthur kisses you again, and then he leans away from your lips and kisses the angle of your jaw. His mouth travels to the side of your neck, and your pulse flutters in your throat. His lips are surprisingly soft, and as his mouth trails from your neck to your collarbone, the delicacy of his kisses makes you feel lightheaded —a mix of pleasure and disbelief.

He nuzzles your collarbone, then places a kiss just above the swell of your breast, and you arch helplessly toward his mouth. The heat of his breath wafting over your breast, making your nipples go taut with anticipation, and when the scruff of Arthur’s beard brushes over your nipple, you jolt and make a helpless little mewling sound. You twine your fingers into his golden hair, trying to hold him in place against you. But Arthur shoots you a quick smile, then shuffles lower on the bed still and kisses your breast —and you twist your hips, hands slipping from his hair to his shoulders.

A sob leaves your throat—not a crying kind of sob, but an instinctive noise tore from your throat without your permission. He lifts his mouth from your breast and smiles at you, and you stare stupidly at his handsome face—the spark in his clear eyes and the boyish smirk twisting his lips.

Arthur palms your breast and squeezes gently. He shuffles lower still on the bed and places a sweet, open-mouthed kiss on your navel, and your sense of surreal disbelief ratchets to a nearly unbearable degree. His mouth drifts lower now, the scruff of his beard tickling your belly as he presses his lips to the skin below your navel and eases your thighs further apart.

Arthur places a kiss between your legs, and your mind goes blank with pleasure.

“You alright, darlin’?” He smirks. You stare at him, too stunned by pleasure to find a clever response. Instead, riled by the teasing sparkle in his face, you spread your knees wide. His gaze drops between your legs, and his expression darkens with interest as he places his hands on your knees—stroking up to your thighs. He places another firm, wet kiss between your legs, and a helpless moan leaves your lips, and he hums with approval, a smug, half-growly little hum.

You gasp in a breath, realizing you haven’t been breathing at all. Arthur lifts his head to look you in the eye. “Relax, love,” he croons, smoothing his palm over your belly as he laps at your cunt with slow hot sweeping strokes of his tongue. It’s not long before a finger presses into you, working you slowly open.

Your hips jerk softly along with his movements, and there’s unspoken interest in his gaze as he stares down at you, relentless in his efforts to see you come undone. His tongue and lips are at your clit, fingers stroking and curling deep within you. You jolt, and then he moves slower, dragging over the sensitive spots he’s discovered inside you and leaving your nerves tingling with every touch.

Pleasure washes over you in waves, making your calves twitch, your fingertips feel numb, and that high-pitched mewling noise leaves your throat. Overwhelmed—enraptured—you buck your hips toward his face and clench your fingers convulsively in his hair, and he keeps licking and kissing you until you can’t take it anymore. You pull on his hair to stop him, and he finally pulls away, lips glistening in the moonlight and fading glow of the firelight. “Enough,” you groan. “Need you.” It’s nigh a broken plea.

You shudder as he moves, situating himself between your thighs, calloused fingers dipping into your cunt to gather your slick and spread on his hard cock as he strokes himself. “Arthur, please,” you whimper, impatient, and he won’t keep you waiting.

He slides his cock through your folds before his angle changes just slightly, and on the next pass, your breath stutters as his cockhead presses just inside you—barely splitting you open. Arthur’s hand grabs your hip and angles you up just a bit so he can slide deeper inside you, and you cling onto his biceps—feeling his scars press into your palms and admiring the way his muscles flex under your touch.

Arthur hisses through his teeth when he fully seats himself inside your warmth, then releases his breath slowly and smiles at you. “You’re lovely,” he murmurs, twining his fingers through yours, pressing the back of your hands into the mattress. From the moment Arthur first saw you in the Londinium streets, he knew your fates were intertwined—just as your bodies and hands were now. He trembles at this personal heaven, then draws his hips back, starting to move.

You laugh breathlessly, mindlessly. “Charmer,” you pant, hooking your legs around his waist. You roll into his thrusts, pulling him deeper. His ragged breaths and grunts mingle with your sighs of pleasure—panting scarcely keeping up with your racing heart.

He huffs in amusement. “Can’t say that’s something I get called often,” Arthur says as he pumps his hips slowly, teasing you and pleasing you almost more than you can bear. Then he lowers his lips to yours in a kiss—there’s something sweet on his tongue, like honey wine.

His whole body begins moving, surging, and writhing against yours. One of his hands releases yours and caresses your cheek before he slides it down your body. Without thought, your body arches into his hand as it moves, ripening under his touch—thoughts clouded by lust and love. His fingers find your clit at the same time his mouth latches to your neck.

Another guttural cry bursts from your lips. He’s pounding into you now, and he’s still holding your hand while his other grips your hip. Your breathing is loud, and so is his, and his hand is tightening on your fingers. He drags in a breath, then expels it in a strained groan.

He shudders, then pounds into you hard, twice, thrice, and then he pauses with his cock deep inside of you. His jaw clenches, and his grip on your hip is so tight that it’s almost painful, but you like it—just as much as you like the guttural sound he makes as he shudders in completion. A few long seconds later, he gasps in a breath, then sighs and releases your hand. “Fuck,” he groans, holding his weight above you on shaking arms.

You beckon him to lie atop you, his golden head pillowed on your breasts as his breathing steadies, sighing when you kiss his hair and whisper a quiet, I love you, for him to relish. He stays sheathed inside your warmth, unwilling to part just yet. “I love you,” he murmurs in turn, never tiring of how you smile when he says the words. Sighing, he rolls to the side, and you whine at the loss of him and the empty feeling between your thighs.

He lays on his side, and you pillow your head on his outstretched arm, nuzzling close against his chest and threading one of your legs through his. Arthur presses his cheek to the crown of your head and strokes your hair as the first dregs of daylight break over the horizon, shining upon England, Camelot, and his future wife and queen.

[Forever taglist: @certifiedlittleshit / @erzsebetrosztoczy / @hereforreadandwrite / @mrsragnarlodbrok / @rigshak ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my forever taglist, or any other character/fandom taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

#King Arthur #King Arthur x Reader #Arthur Pendragon #King Arthur Legend of the Sword #King Arthur: Legend of the Sword #Charlie Hunnam #Charlie Hunnam Fanfiction #Charlie Hunnam Fanfic #my writing #wow i havent written and posted anything in a while #yet again im blaming you for this claire lol #how about we all petition to get this movie the sequel it deserved #also 10 points if you can spot the rdr2 reference

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bluehoodiewoozi · 4 months

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DRABBLE MARATHON #16:

KIM MINGYU + public transportation

You found you actually quite liked the evening bus ride home.

It used to be a tedious journey – nearly an hour in a tight space with strangers just to get home after a long day. But, like always, Mingyu made everything better.

Seated at the back of the bus, you leaned your cheek against his shoulder and looked out the window. It was already dark outside, only some street lights illuminating the way. One of Mingyu’s arms was wrapped around you, keeping you safe from the bus driver’s criminally unstable driving style, while he scrolled through social media with his other hand.

“Babe,” he suddenly started and you almost jumped at the sound that was now interrupting your blissful rest.

You replied with a hum and tried to find your comfortable position again after the startle.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” he asked and you groaned, giving up your pursuit of comfort to glare at him.

“Not this again,” you warned him, but he widened his eyes and jutted out his lip and your resolve had nothing on his puppy eyes. You groaned again. “Didn’t you already ask this last week?”

He nodded. “And you never gave me an answer.”

“I didn’t?”

“No,” he told you before putting on a bright smile and asking again, a little louder this time, “so: would you still love me if I was a worm? Yes or no?”

You wanted to melt right though the floor of the bus, away from the questioning and amused stares of your fellow passengers. Mingyu didn’t seem to care though.

Glaring at him, you silently asked if you really had to answer that. He only smiled wider and nodded. You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Fine, I’d still love you if you were a worm.”

“I knew it!” And once again all of the eyes seemed to be on you. You tried to shush your boyfriend before he got you kicked out or scolded. But in his overjoyed state, he had no interest in quieting down. Instead, he cheered rather loudly and then cuddled into your side, looking at you with impossibly wide, adoring eyes. “Joshua said you’d say you’d squish me.”

You decided not to comment on it and rested your head against his own.

But Mingyu wasn’t satisfied yet.

“How about if I was a beetle?”

“A beetle?” you laughed. “Sure, I’d probably love you as a beetle.”

His eyes lit up like Christmas lights – or maybe it was just the reflection of actual Christmas lights shining through the bus window. “What if I was a cockroach?”

“You know how I feel about roaches,” you spoke through a grimace.

His smile morphed into a pout. “Is that a no?”

“It’s a maybe,” you decided to lie to not crush his giant heart.

“What about if I was a rat?”

#seventeen scenarios #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader

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hobiebrownismygod · 5 months

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StreetKid!Hobie x Fem!Reader - Short Fic

Synopsis: As a child, Hobie lived on the streets. One day, he met a girl who's kindness knew no bounds and who re-instilled his faith in humanity. Years later, he still wishes he could see her again.

TW: Homelessness, Angst, Lowkey the idea is pretty depressing if you think about it

part 2

___________________________________________________________

"Get out of here y'little punk!"

10 year old Hobie Brown found himself being chased out of yet another store, the icy wind smashing against his face as the owner shut the door behind him, muttering curses about "delinquents" and "street rats". He hadn't been trying to steal anything, all Hobie wanted was some shelter from the horrible cold of the evening. It was well below freezing outside and all he had to protect himself was a thin coat that did little to keep the snow from soaking him right down to the bone.

He shivered as he walked along the trash-ridden sidewalk, the tip of his nose turning a shade of dark blue with the beginning of frostbite. He clutched his pitiful layers tightly around himself, closing his eyes as yet another draft shoved him back. He took to one of the many Camden alleyways and sat down with his back against the wall, watching timidly as the passerby regarded him with disgust, their noses held high as they walked by him, hands full with Christmas shopping bags. To them he was nothing more than a street rat.

It wasn't Hobie's fault that he lived like this, shuffling from one street to another, digging through trash cans for just one loaf of bread or something to keep him warm. His parents had died a while back, leaving him in the care of his older brother, Abraham. Abe had done a great job raising Hobie for the past year, working hard to give them both shelter and keep Hobie fed. But one horrifically violent protest later, Hobie found himself a true orphan, his older brother no longer around to protect him.

Hobie had always looked up to Abe. He was a true punk and had taught Hobie his first few guitar strings. It had been a quiet night when Abe had gotten his hands on a discarded guitar and brought it back to the shelter to show his little brother. He'd handed it to Hobie with a big grin plastered across his face, and the two of them spent the rest of the night teaching themselves different notes, playing and fighting with each other over turns the way siblings did.

But now, Abe was gone and so was the guitar. All Hobie had left was his jacket, a few sizes too big for him and too thin to keep him from getting a cold. As he huddled up in that alleyway, he felt tears begin to prickle the corners of his eyes. He was scared. Not only was he homeless, but he was lost. He didn't know where the shelter was and he didn't know if he'd survive the night. He could feel it start to snow as well, the soft little flakes hitting his bare face and moistening his hair. Abe loved the snow.

And then it was like he'd heard the voice of an angel.

"Hey, are you okay?"

He looked up and saw something so beautiful, he could barely believe his own eyes. A young girl, probably around his age, with long flowy hair, perfect skin and the most gorgeous eyes he'd ever beheld was standing in front of him, a sweet smile on her face and her hand outstretched towards him. He watched in shock for a moment, thinking he was hallucinating. He stayed silent as he took her hand and she pulled him up.

Another young boy arrived behind her, a nervous expression on his face as he watched Hobie and the girl, eyes darting between them. "Y/N, come on! We're gonna get in trouble!" He said in a whiny voice, grabbing onto the girl's arm desperately.

"Calm down, Harry! My father won't even realize we're gone" the girl replied, shaking him off. She looked back at Hobie, her voice turning soft again. "Are you alright? You look starved, you poor thing" She reached out towards his face and caressed his cheek gently, looking him up and down.

He was in awe. He leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving her face. "Y/N, don't do that! You don't know where he's been!" the boy, Harry, said quickly. The girl smacked him on the arm before looking back at Hobie with a curious expression on her face.

Hobie watched as she pulled her jacket off her back and pushed it into his arms. "Here. Take this. It'll keep you warm." Hobie was in shock. He shook his head no and tried to return the jacket to her, pleading for her to take it back. "I can't take this..." he whispered, his big watery eyes wide with surprise. "Its all right! Its too big for me anyway, it'll fit you perfectly" she said with a smile, forcing the jacket towards him.

"You're crazy" the boy named Harry whined to her, looking between the girl and Hobie, that same nervous expression still on his face. The girl continued to ignore him, not taking her eyes off of Hobie's. "Look. F.E.A.S.T. shelter is right down the street. Keep going down Main and take a right onto Hamilton and you'll see it in the distance." She pointed across the road.

Hobie nodded at her words, still in disbelief at the fact that she was helping him. Who even was she? When she finished giving him directions, she looked up at him and nodded. "You understand?"

"Thank you" he replied quietly, his eyes darting in between hers, his voice barely a croaked out whisper as he blinked tears back. "Thank you so much."

"You can thank me by keeping safe and warm." she replied, tilting her head up at him slightly. Suddenly, she turned her head as if she heard her name being called. "Oh no, we're in trouble now!" Harry squeaked out. "Oh calm down, no we're not!" she looked back up at Hobie and patted his shoulder. "Remember the directions. Get to F.E.A.S.T. and they'll take care of you."

Hobie nodded again, unsure of how else to respond besides whispering out another thank you. And then, she leaned in and gave him a friendly peck on the cheek before she and the boy, Harry, ran back towards their family. Hobie touched the part of his cheek that she'd kissed, watching her in astonishment before he began to head down the street, the jacket she'd given him filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in ages. He could still just barely hear her talking in the distance.

"Y/N? Where's your jacket?"

"I lost it."

"Silly girl, how could you lose a jacket? We'll have to get you another one, tsktsk"

Hobie eventually arrived at F.E.A.S.T. and it was there he stayed for a few years before he was old enough to start squatting with other teenagers his age. Even after he left F.E.A.S.T., he still returned often, volunteering and donating what he could, getting to know all the new admittees and more.

He was 19 now, and it had been 9 years since he'd encountered that girl, but to this day, he couldn't forget her. That hair, that skin, those eyes. That perfect smile. The way she'd looked at him like he was all that mattered in that moment. He wished every single day that he'd find her. Whenever he went outside, especially near the richer neighborhoods, he would find himself subconsciously searching the crowds to see if he could recognize her. If he could see her face.

And even after he'd outgrown the jacket she'd given him, and it was a really nice, expensive jacket at that, he'd patched pieces of it onto his vest. Whenever he touched them, he would get that warm feeling in his chest again, that feeling that let him know he mattered.

Even if he was just some delinquent punk to everyone else. Even though he was a street kid. He mattered to her. And that was all that mattered.

He hoped one day he would see her again.

____________________________________________________________

A/N: Thought this was a cute AU and I got the idea from the StreetKid!Hobie post @the-cat-and-the-birdie made, I'll link it if I find it again. If enough people are interested I might make a part 2 where he actually meets the girl and they fall in love or something cuz I think it would make a cute story <3

If I do continue this story I'll prob do it on wattpad cuz its a lot easier for me so you can access that here:

Hobie brown x Reader - Full Fanfiction

I'll try to update it regularly

Tags under the cut:

@s6onder @therealloopylupin2099 @spiderrinn @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @@vileviale @bubble787635 @hows-my-handwriting

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hedgiwithapen · 7 months

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DHD: Leverage daemon au

(confession: I read the first 80% of golden compass in 2006 while waiting for christmas and thus new books and never finished it, so my rules for worldbuilding now!) Some things, everyone knows. Like how to breathe, and just as important. Separating hurts. Nothing cut can be made whole. Daemons don’t settle twice. Everyone in the business knew that Eliot Spencer’s Daemon had settled as an American black bear, and that Marron could kill just as viciously as he did. Everyone deep in the business knew that he was Moreau’s right hand. Everyone in the business knew that Moreau’s best men were Severed.

Nate had never asked where Marron was, and neither had Sophie, though neither of them knew everything about his time with Moreau. He guessed they’d figured out something as close to the truth as anyone was going to guess, even Moreau. None but the two of them knew the truth, that Marron had run to save them both. That Marron had come back, a scruffy mongrel with a broken banner of a tail. She kept her distance the first few jobs, waiting in the Shadows. Eliot could always feel her there, just as strong as if she’d been only a few feet away. That wasn’t supposed to be how things worked, but no one had told Marron that. Parker, though, had noticed right away. “Like us,” she’d said, eyes flicking skyward. Rhodonite had settled as a Kestral young, after the first stint in Juvie. They’d agreed without needing to speak, aloud or otherwise, about it. That was how they worked. Who could say who’s idea anything they did was? They were the same, and neither of them suffered cages or locked doors lightly. “No,” Eliot had said, uncertain how much was a lie. “No,” Parker had returned. “You’re like us. It was safer. They don’t get that.” She was right about that. Hardison’s Chip, and Nate’s Vianney almost never left their shoulders. When Chip had to, it was usually to a pocket, and Vianney, though she could fly some distance away when a con called for it, preferred to stay as close as possible, where she could bite Nate’s ear, or preen his hair, depending on just how much of an ass he was being. It was easier to hide a pika than a parrot, unfortunately, but they always made do. Remy helped with that. Remy had introduced himself when Nate had introduced Sophie to the team, a soft mink draped over a shoulder. “Remy. It’s short for anything you can think of,” he’d said, sliding off Sophie’s arm to investigate, shifting into a sleek, dark cat. He’d been Rembrant, Reminiscent, Remolade, Remnant; everything from a mobster’s coiled snake to a street rat’s street rat. It never bothered him what his name was, or what hers was--Sophie, Katherine, Charlotte, Laura. Names were as changeable as the color of her hair, the shade of his eyes. “She never settles, so I don’t see why I have to. If you have a problem with that, I’ll bite you.” “I’ll bite you, too,” Sophie had laughed, a deadly glint in her eye. “So, Nate, what’s the score? What finally got you to try my side of the board?” The money had been good. The understanding--or at least, the hiding of judgment, was better. They’d split off and found their way back, again, again.

#dammit hedgi day 2023 #Leverage #Daemon AU #I have thoughts i couldn't get into here but :)#ask me about the names i put so much fucking thought into the names

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chocolatechubby · 4 months

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Maybe it was the glass of heavy cream and dozen gingerbread men I ate just before bedtime. Or maybe it was the fact that it was Christmas Eve, and the residue of waiting up for Santa Claus hadn’t diminished in the 23 years since I was six years old. Maybe it was the hard on that wouldn’t go away if I thought about growing fat and round. Whatever it was, I couldn’t sleep. I reluctantly pulled my bloated body from my warm bed to take a piss and a crap in the bathroom. On the way to the john, I passed the Christmas tree in the living room. The shiny packages underneath danced with the reflections of twinkling lights. I’d made quite a haul this year. I was pretty sure the small neatly wrapped package in the front was an Ipod from my mom. And I was pretty sure that the envelope from my ex-partner was a membership to a gym. My gaining sixty pounds had a lot to do with our break-up. It was nice that we were still friends. “Funny…” I thought. “The thing I REALLY want Santa to bring me won’t fit under a tree.”

When I had finished in the bathroom, I took a long look at myself in the mirror. The 160lb gym rat was gone. There in front of me was a 220lb jock-gone-soft. Since I had continued to go to the gym, I was thick and solid. The roundness of my face was beginning to cut away my cheek definition. The beginnings of a double chin made my cock jump. The definition in my arms was beginning to fade: I loved putting on sleeveless shirts and seeing the thick round guns that were once defined biceps and triceps stretching through. My legs were growing huge. The size 38 pants were straining to keep my thighs in. And I had a real belly. Not the beginning gut I was so proud of in college, but a thick waist protruding over my jeans and a noticeable round mound that jutted out from my plump tits and curved forward six inches. It had gotten a number of rubs and stares from my co-workers over the past few weeks. I thought my pecker was going to fall off from all the jerking off I did in the office restrooms after each “Woah! When’s the baby due?” or “You’d better lay off the holiday food Chris!” But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to look like all of those fellas that I admired online. I wanted people to move out of the way when I walked down the street. I wanted to look in the mirror and be awed by my girth. I reached down in my shorts and began massaging my cock. I imagined what it would be like to have to work pass mounds of belly fat just to touch it. I could feel my hard on growing, and my dick was responding to both my touch and my fantasy. It wouldn’t be long now—at least not for the explosion from my balls. The weight gain would take more time.

As I was going for climax, I heard a sound. Not from me but coming from the living room. At first faint, it grew louder—a slow and steady rise and fall. A snore? It sounded like someone snoring. Maybe somehow the air conditioner had turned itself on. I listened a little more intently. No, this was a HUMAN sound. Someone had broken into my apartment! I pulled up my shorts, looked around for a blunt object, grabbed the toilet brush, and headed towards the sound. As I rounded the corner, I was not prepared for what I saw. There in my leather armchair next to the Christmas tree, snoring to high heaven was Santa Claus.

Only it wasn’t Santa Claus. I mean he was dressed in a beautiful red suit—far superior to all those costumed Santas that you see in department stores. This suit looked like it had been tailored for him: luxurious and warm—trimmed in ermine and leather. It fit his big round frame to a “t.” He had to weigh 350, if a pound, and his thick beard was close-cropped, neatly trimmed, and a deep auburn like the wavy hair that curled from under his fur cap. This guy couldn’t have been more than thirty-five years old. And he was gorgeous. During my whole relationship with my ex, Zach, I had never cheated. But I will admit—especially towards the end when he started nagging more about the weight—I had serious fantasies about dudes like the one asleep in my easy chair, but they never included being robbed by them.

Next to him on the floor was a big, empty red velvet sack. I had to admit: this guy had class. I’d read stories in the newspaper about thieves breaking into houses dressed as Santa Claus and taking people’s presents. I never thought it would happen to me. Pictures of the Grinch stuffing Cindy Lou Who’s Christmas tree in his sack crowded my brain. Well this sucker wasn’t getting MY Ipod without a fight!

I tiptoed over to where the hot thief was snoring, and I kicked his engineer boot and stepped back—toilet bowl brush held high. “Hey you!” I shouted. The guy stirred. I gave him my best grimace and said: “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my place?!” He opened one eye and peered up at my brush and me. He grinned (and of course he had a killer smile) and said, “What are you going to do? Tidy Bowl me to death?”

I wasn’t quite ready for such a laid-back attitude. It took me aback for a moment. “No, smart ass…” I answered finally. “… I’m going to call the police and have you hauled off to spend Christmas in jail—that’s what I’m going to do!!!” I bellowed triumphantly. “Oh, and for future reference: Santa has a WHITE beard—not red! You are NO Kris Kringle.”

“Actually, his beard isn’t white. It’s silver. And you’re right…I’m not Kris Kringle. He’s my dad. I’m KARL Kringle—his youngest son.”

Of all the responses in all the scenarios that I could imagine, not one of them included that particular statement. I stood in shock with my mouth open. He fumbled around for a bit and spoke: “This is what I get for breaking the first rule of Christmas Delivery: Don’t Fall Asleep. It’s just that it’s been a long night and seeing as this is my Last Stop and all, I couldn’t help myself.” He yawned and started hauling his big belly out of my chair “Look, don’t set off your loaded brush—I’m just looking for my wallet.” He was even more appealing standing. He was a fireplug: about my height (which made him somewhat short), he reminded me of Sean Astin as Samwise Gamgee in “The Lord of the Rings”: much bigger, but as cute as he could be. He patted himself down, searching around his big gut and barrel chest for a bulge. “Ahh, here it is!” He pulled out a simple leather wallet and flipped it open. “See.” He said.

I slowly inched forward and took the wallet out of his chubby hand. There he was, smiling with rosy cheeks. NORTH POLE DMV: Driver’s Permit was printed in white at the top of a red and green card. “May operate cars, trucks, motorcycles, snow skis and High-Capacity Sleighs” was prominently placed in the lower right hand corner.

“Real cute” I smirked. “So you’re a clever bandit. I’m sure your cell mate will get a real kick out of your sense of humor.”

“Man, some things don’t change, do they?” He smiled. “You’re still a closet believer posing as a skeptic aren’t you? I remember when you were six years old and wanted ‘Dream Date Ken’. You said to yourself, ‘I’ll believe in Santa if he brings me Ken.’ When you didn’t see it under the tree that Christmas morning, you were really sad, but you said, ‘I knew he wasn’t real.’ Boy were you surprised when you found it…”

“Hidden in your stocking!”

“Hidden in my stocking!”

We said it at the exact same time. My mouth was agape. “How did you know that?” I uttered. “Because I asked Dad if I could put it there.” Karl said. “I was twelve. Dad had been training me to take a route of my own. I had been coming with him since you were a baby—watching you grow up. I wanted you to work harder to trust your beliefs.”

I stumbled to my couch and sat down. This was incredible! So it was true: Santa really DID exist. “Yup.” Karl said, as if he’d read my mind. “Only the doubters have got part of the story right: he DOESN’T circle the world and deliver toys in one night. He hasn’t done that in a few hundred years. He has help from his sons.”

“Sons” I gasped, with emphasis on the “s.” “You mean there’s more of you?”

“Oh yeah” said Karl. “It's the family business. There’s Kris Jr., Kevin, Kurt, Klaus, Kyle, Keith, and Kwame.”

“Kwame?” I asked.

“Yeah, a little incident with dad and an African Queen a few years back…we don’t talk about that.” He whispered.

“So we divide up the earth and each take a chunk. Dad spends most of his time these days with the kids that need him most. He took India and New Orleans this year.”

“I see…” I said. “And you got my area.”

“Well, not so much GOT, as CHOSE your area. I told you. I’ve been watching you for many years. I’ve been waiting for that jerk of a boyfriend of yours to exit the picture. I’ve been crushing on you for a while now. I happen to be gay.”

“Oh.” My dick was jumping at regular intervals now. “Are all of you uh…?”

“Gay?” He said. “I doubt it. Nobody’s talking so we don’t really know. I’m pretty sure Kwame is. He keeps picking San Francisco as one of his stops. Listen, do you mind if I make myself comfortable?” he asked. “Uh…no.” I stammered, still trying to make sense of the fact that I had a big, bearded Santa Claus in my living room that was hot for me. “Great” he said and proceeded to undo his belt and buttons. His velvet coat fell to the floor, revealing the magnificent fat physique bulging from his white undershirt. His big, gorgeous arms were covered with a layer of soft red fur, and I could see tendrils of the same curling from under the neckline of his t. He began playing with his nipples as he slowly moved his ball belly towards me. “Listen,” he said again. “…do you mind if I make YOU more comfortable?”

“Uh…no.” was my startled reply.

We stood face to face. The heat between us was more intense than anything I’d ever felt before. He smelled of smoldering fires and apples and cinnamon. He leaned in, and I felt his cock. “So THAT’S what’s meant by Christmas Sausage! “I thought. He pulled me into him and whispered, “I’ve been waiting 29 years for this” and moved his tongue over my lips and into my mouth. He tasted like warm cocoa. His belly met mine and I moaned at the solid thickness of his girth. Our tongues swirled together in a hot dance that left me weak and energized at the same time. I could have stayed like that forever.

Karl ran his thick hands over my nipples, slightly squeezing them between his fingers. He slowly traveled down to my belly and began massaging it with both hands. I was in heaven. “Such a beautiful starter belly. I was so hot for you when you started putting on weight that I had to stop working in the toyshop—couldn’t concentrate. Kept making Barbie dolls with penises!”

“Oh.” I mumbled—trying to get his tongue back in my mouth.

“And now I’m with you” he said, caressing my cheek. “And we’ve got all night. He leaned over and kissed my gut. “I’m going to give you that present that won’t fit under the tree.”

For a moment I was stirred from my reverie. Had he really the power to know what my deepest desires were? I tested him. “Oh yes? “I whispered in his ear. “What might that be.”

“Don’t be coy Chris” he smiled. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. By dawn, you will be fed, fucked, and fat as a house. Are you ready to get started?”

TO BE CONTINUED

#ccstories

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keimiwolf · 4 months

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Red hood feet dangled off the roof. It had been a good day. Most of the winter supplies were passed out, the new homeless shelters just finished construction and people started moving in today, they were much but enough to keep the cold out and get food to those that needed it.

Hood leaned back on the roof. He had some more hats and coats that should go to the colony in the west, too stubborn to move into a building, but luckily not stupid enough to refuse help.

Now to start on his night tasks, a new drug was making the rounds. It left the user unresponsive, seizure, vomiting, then organs start failing. In all one dose will kill you in 6 about hours. Not fun, and definitely not allowed on his streets.

New dealer had been making his way into hoods territory, sailing to Anyone who gave them cash they needed to know who was ok to sell to and who they lose a hand for. the rumor that-

A small body crawled onto is lap, shaggy black hair and big sapphire blue eyes stared at him. The boy had to be around 3 or 4. And is far too comfortable sitting so close to the edge of a 5 story apartment building.

Jason carefully put his arms around the kid. the last thing Jason needed was a kid falling off a roof.

"My name is Danny Fenton I was born on Christmas Day, I don't know who my datty is and Mummy's gone away. All I want for Christmas is for someone to take me home. Does anyone want a Christmas child of their own."

"I'm not Santa kid."

"I know Santa for the rich kids, and I'm an orphan. It's ok though cuz Ally kids have you, and that's even better!" Danny cuddled closer to Jason. The poor kid must have been out for a while he was freezing to the youth and definitely needed something to warm up.

"Then I'll do the best I can." Jason carefully worked his way back onto the roof before standing and placing the kid on his hip, some what glad his helmet hid his teary eyes. "While I work on your Christmas wish how about some hot chocolate. I'll walk you back to the orphanage."

The kids smile put Dicks to shame. Jason would definitely need to buy some sungl-

No Bad Jason no adopting black hair blue eyed children with tragic backstorys. You are not Bruce.

"I get a wish and hot chocolate! Best day ever! Thanky Mr hood."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was early on Christmas morning when Jason gave in. Its been two weeks since he dropped Danny off in a orphanage that looked more suited for rats then children. the kid had never been far from his mind.

He keep his word and had been looking for a home for Danny, but everyone who could take him Jason always found a problem with.

Yesterday when he went shopping he wondered into the toy Isle and left with more then the gallon of milk he went for. The gust room was now equipped with 5 new plushies a night light and a galaxy themed blanket.

Getting up Jason dialed the phone. It was far to early for anyone with normal hours to be awake., but he needed to do this now before he talked himself out of it.

"Hay Alfie, would you mind calling the guy for me-"

I decided to write this instead of sleeping sooo for give any grammar errors. Also merry Christmas Eve!

Inspired by this song:

youtube

#danny phantom/dc #dp x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #this was totally inspired by Christmas carol by Skip Ewing #is danny de aged or just reincarnated #thats up to you #Youtube

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ecoamerica · 20 days

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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lilisouless · 1 year

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The crows as Barbie movie characters

Bassed on this twitter thread of the crows as disney princesses (1) nicky (taylor's version) en Twitter: "the six of crows as disney princesses ✨ a thread:" / Twitter

Nina- Erika

Bonds with bff/soulmate trought singing (quality may vary)

Dog like cat named wolfie//Dog like wolf lover boyfriend , pretty much the same

Works to get out of a shitty deal

But algo loves to indulge in fine things like royal food and bubble baths

Feel in love with a king while disguissed as a blonde

Matthias-Clara

Life changes after being screwed over by a rat like man (or boy)

Little patience with younger people

Winter person /christmas vibes

Sheltered (imprissioned)

Jesper-Genevieve

Always late

Defies autority

Sneaks at night to have fun

Dances to cope with their problems

Loves their dad

Kaz-Eden

Scrooge variant

Thats all you need to know

Wylan-Anneliese

Rich people problems

The science one

Has nailed their tutor at one point

Get philosophical with love interest whose names starts with a "J"

Almost gets killed by adult they knew their whole childhood and after that, has to work on the streets to survive

Kuwei (by Kevin Wada) -Rapunzel

Imprissioned in one country, wanted in another one

Doodles/paints in their free time

Someone disguises themselves as them as part of a ploy

Inej-Anika

BLADES!

Bonds with a horse girl (a boy horse girl and a literal horse girl)

Marries the most obnoxious guy they could find (but its THEIR obnoxious guy)

Wants her parents back

Frees slaved girls

Probably the most usefull out of all these in an adventure

I think you know this one: has contemplated murder

BONUS:

Jan Van Eck- Tika

Ugly

Can't let people be happy , ugh

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littlespacereader · 4 months

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It’s the Doctor Who Christmas Eve fic! This idea came to me on the plane back from college and I just love the idea of having the Doctor pass out and the reader being like “well I better make him comfy”. Thank you to everyone who voted on the poll for the Tenth Doctor! Please enjoy this adorable tale with the Doctor!

A Stranger Invited to Christmas💚❤️🎅🎄

Caregiver!Tenth Doctor & GN Little!Reader (SFW)

Tags - meeting the Doctor for the first time, taking care of him then vice versa, sippy cups, pacifier, stuffies, cuddles, mentions of Santa and Christmas

Leave it to me to forget milk the night before Christmas. It’s no bother though, a quick trip to the shop and back home never hurt no one. After all who can go without milk on Christmas? What would I leave for Santa? Water? Come on!

With my grocery bag in hand, I walked down street to my flat. Christmas is going to be a little different this year. My family was planning on coming to visit but sadly caught a cold that’s been going around.

That meant Christmas alone this year. I mean I can’t lie, I’m a little bit bummed out I won’t be seeing my family.

Thankfully I have my stuffie family to keep me company for Christmas. That didn’t bother me, if anything it was an excuse to regress the whole holiday season away. I mean who doesn’t want to regress and watching movies like Frosty all night long?

The cold air filled my lungs with a deep breath in. With a deep breath out smoke blew around my face with my warm breath hitting the cold air of the night.

Suddenly a squeak broke my thoughts. It sounded like a bird that was calling out for hell. I turned to the source of the noise and followed it to a bush. Something was ruffling the leaves of it but I couldn’t see the animal.

“It’s okay! I’m not hurt you. I just wanna help.”

It was as if the animal heard me because it came out from its hiding spot in the bush. It looked like…well…actually I don’t know what it is.

It looks like a mole mixed with a bunny. It has this small body with fluffy black fur and big ears. Its hands were similar to a mole’s paws with a long hairless tail behind it that looked similar to one of a rats.

It started to walk over to me on its two back paws as it held its front paws together.

“It’s okay! You’re safe now. What happened?”

I walked towards the fuzzy creature and was about to lean down when…

“LOOK OUT!!” A man grabbed and tackled me on the side. The two of us went tumbling down onto the snowy ground.

He tackled me just in time because the creature hissed and shot some sort of venom where I was originally standing.

The two of us sat up from the ground and looked ahead at the creature scurrying away.

“What is that thing?!”

“It’s a Buried Darthrow Fling. Really nasty creatures despite how cute they look,” The man replied.

He grabbed something at his pocket and flung it ahead where the…Buried Darthrow Fling…was running away.

His aim was perfect because it hit the creature and suddenly it disappeared into thin air.

I started at the blank space where the creature once stood in shock and disbelief…

WHAT JUST HAPPENED?

I stood up and ran over to there the animal once was and my eyes were not deceiving me, it had disappeared.

I turned to the man as he stood up from the snowy ground, “How did that? What? What just happened?”

“I apologize for tackling you but if that Buried Darthrow Fling got venom on you, you would’ve fallen into a coma.” He said casually.

“A coma?”

“Yup.”

“And it disappeared from that thing in your pocket?”

“Yeah,” he picked up another one from his pocket and held it out for me to look at. “See? Nothing too fancy, it just teleports back to its home planet.” He added again…casually.

“Planet? Teleporting? So it’s an alien?!” I was starting to lose my mind.

“I can see you’re a bit overwhelmed. So why don’t we start over.”

He brushed the snow off his long brown trench coat and walked over to me.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m the Doctor.” He held his hand out to shake.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet-.” I started to say before I paused mid sentence.

On his hand was this blue gel splattered across it. He must’ve saw my hesitation and looked at his hand. That’s when he saw the gel too.

“Oh no.”

“Oh no? What’s wrong?” I asked looked at his worried expression.

“The Buried Darthrow Fling must’ve got me when I tackled you.”

My eyes widened, “Oh my God. We gotta get you to the hospital!”

“No no, no hospitals I’ll be fine.” The Doctor started to say before his eyes started roll back and he fell onto his knees.

I ran over and helped him back up. He grabbed my arm, “Okay…maybe it’s starting to have an effect on me.”

I wrapped his arm around my shoulders to get him back on his feet and more steady, “We need to get you to the hospital before you slip into a coma.”

“No I’ll be okay,” he pulled a device from his jacket pocket. It made a weird noise and glowed blue as he hovered it over his hand.

Then after a moment he pulled it up to his face to read. “I won’t go into a coma because my body is built a bit differently than yours.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m not human.” He said, putting his glowy pen thing away.

“You not-.” I stopped myself before I could really wrap my mind around it.

“I just need a place…to take a quick…nap.” He said as he started to drift off again.

I helped him to his feet, holding onto his arm around my shoulders with one hand and wrapping my arm around his back with the other.

“My flat is just around the corner here, you can rest there.” I explained as I turned him around and helped him start walking towards my apartment.

“Thank you, that will be *yawn* nice.”

With that the two of us started carefully walking back to my flat.

“I’m sorry…about all this…” his head bobbed up and down as he fought against sleeping.

“It’s not your fault. I was the idiot looking at the strange creature.”

“Well, you didn’t know any better….so no need to apologize. But what are you doing out so late…on Christmas?” He asked between yawns.

“I forgot to get milk for Santa so I went out to a shop…to pick it up…” I started to trail off.

With a quick look over his shoulder I could make out the faint puddle in the distance behind us, which no doubt was my milk carton splattered all over the payment.

“Oh…” The Doctor trailed off as he realized what must’ve happened. “I’m so sorry, I’ll…I’ll make it up to you…”

“Don’t worry about it, I rather have no milk and not be in a coma.” I joked getting a smile from the Doctor.

~~~

Finally we made it back to my flat. As we got closer I could feel the Doctor start to get more and more drowsy. Standing at the door and trying to unlock while also holding onto him was a bit of a challenge but one I managed.

The door swung open. I guided him to my small but cozy living room.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? You’re not going into a coma?” I asked still extremely worried. I helped him take his long tan coat off then sit on the couch.

“No, no, no. I just need a little nap to get the side effects…to ware off and then…then I’ll be okay. Promise.” He said drifting off.

The worrying started to get to my regression. I held my hand out, pink facing toward him. “Pinky promise?”

He smirked and lifted his tired hand toward mine, wrapping his pink around my own. “Pink promise Y/N.”

“Just…a little…rest that’s…all…” I help him lay on the couch as he started to drift off both what he was saying and off to sleep.

Then it was just me with a sleeping stranger on my couch.

All at once the events hit me like a train and suddenly I felt the reality of everything. He’s an alien, we were attacked by an alien, and now he’s taking a rest on my couch.

No not strange at all, totally not. Why would it be?! It sort felt like a crazy dream I was a part of. But this this was real, this is really happening. This is going to be a Christmas to remember.

With reality and panic setting in, I could stop myself from regressing any further. The panic seemed to slip away as I let myself regress to let go of everything that just happened.

Now fully feeling like my true little self I stared at the stranger in the brown suit and converse. He was very nice to me and he did save my life hence why he was passed out on the couch.

If he was my guest for Christmas, I might as well make him comfy. So off I rushed to the bedroom to grab some supplies.

With arms full, I ran back and got to work. First I draped a soft light pink blanket across his body. Then I gave him a soft pillow behind his head, then to finish it off I surrounded him with not one but about ten different stuffies. I couldn’t have him waking up without friends around him.

Satisfied with the results I rushed off to make myself comfy for the night. It wasn’t too late and I didn’t have a Caregiver to tell me not to stay up…

With Christmas pajamas on, a sippy cup full of juice and a Christmas pacifier in mouth, I sat on the ground infront of the couch as Frosty the Snowman playing on the tv. I would watch Frosty and check on the sleeping strange periodically.

But as the night went on, it became harder and harder to stay awake.

~~~

When The Doctor began to wake up, a few things popped into this mind. For one, he felt very comfortable. He’s hasn’t felt this cozy in a long long time.

Memories started to flood his mind of the past 24 hours. Flying around in the Tardis, getting a notification of a dangerous Buried Darthrow Fling, searching around all of England for it and meeting Y/N. Then of course getting the venom on his hand and passing out.

There was a movie playing in the background. It sounded familiar but something he couldn’t quite place at the moment. Then he heard something that warmed his hearts, a pure and happy giggle.

It was enough to push through the tiredness and open his eyes. And what he saw brought a smile to his face.

Y/N, his newest friend and couch-lender was sitting next to the couch in some Christmas themed pajamas. Beside them was a stuffie, a sippy cup and some biscuits on a tiny plate. On the tv played the new cartoon version of the grinch.

Every so often Y/N would be watching the scene before their head would be nodding off. Then when they realized, they would jump back up and continue watching.

The Doctor realized in two seconds what was going on. It had been far too long since he had seen a Regressor. On his home planet, regressing was as normal as sneezing, but on Earth it wasn’t as well know. Which is a shame the Doctor thought.

He began to sit up on the couch, and that’s when he realized why he was so comfy. He was wrapped in a soft pink blanket and surrounded by plushies.

“You’re awake!”

The Doctor turned to see a wide eyed Little staring back at him.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?!” Their pacifier fell to the ground as the began to ramble on worried as ever.

“I’m alright. Better now actually than I was before. And even more better thanks to all of these friends that kept me nice and safe while I slept.”

He picked up one of the stuffies, a frog, and smiled. “What’s this one’s name?”

“Tiana. Just like the princess. By your hip is her husband Naveen.” Y/N pointed out.

The Doctor smiled and picked the other frog up. With the married frogs reunited he shook their feet. “It is nice to meet such a lovely couple.”

That caused Y/N to giggle at the Doctor’s silliness. But their giggle caused them to yawn soon after. That caught the Doctor’s attention.

“Y/N, how long have you been up?” He asked before looking around for a clock in their flat.

”Don’t know…wanted to make sure you were okay.” They said with another yawn.

Below the tv sat one that read 11:30pm. “It’s almost midnight! It’s far too late for someone as young as you. Come on, off to bed.” He stood up and walked over to where they were sitting.

The Doctor could see there was a bit of hesitancy in their eyes. “But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are you going to do? Are you going back to bed?”

“No. No, I’ve slept enough for at least another two years. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to go to bed.”

“But…are you going to leave me?”

The question came out as broken and as sad as it could possibly sound.

Sure the Doctor had plenty of other things he had to do. He had to figure out how that creature got to Earth, he had to fix something in the Tardis’ engine…

But the look of wonder, of happiness and of concern for him on Y/N’s face struck something in him. It had been a while since he had a companion. Rose…well…she was gone. And recently Martha had left.

He wasn’t good alone, he knew that, but he always seemed to be alone. That was until now.

Now he had a chance to have a companion again. A friend to travel all throughout time and space with. But not only that, now he now had a Little to care for and watch over.

Plus it was Christmas Eve, and he was always a softie for Christmas.

He bent down, sitting across from them on the ground. He took their hands in his. “As long as you want me here, I’ll stay. I’ll even be happy to take care of you if you need. After all you took such good care of me. Let me return the favor.”

Y/M smiled and squeezed his hands back. “Yes!! I’d love you to stay! We can celebrate Christmas together!”

The Doctor smiled back, “Then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“But first things first! We gotta get you ready for bed!” The Doctor jumped up off the ground and offered his hand to Y/N to help them up.

Once up and hand in hand, the Doctor turned on his heels to go toward their bedroom but was stopped when Y/N pulled his arms back.

“Wait! We gotta put our cookies out for Santa.”

“Right, of course. We can’t forget about Santa now can we?” He winked.

So off to the small kitchen the two went to fetch some biscuits for Santa. Then there they sat, a tiny plate with two biscuits, some carrots for the reindeer and a glass of juice. With it sat a note to be read later.

The two stood back and admired their work. “You think Santa will like it?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t think he’ll like it. I think he’ll love it.” The Doctor smiled.

Y/N nodded and yawned. The Doctor took that as his cue to get his little one to bed.

“Alright you’ve been up far far too long. Time to go to bed before Santa arrives.” He lifted them into his arms and started to carry them off to bed.

Suddenly the clocks chimed, indicating that it was midnight and officially Christmas Day.

Despite being sleepy Y/N still lifted their head off his shoulder to look at the Doctor with a smile, “Merry Christmas Doctor!” They leaned forward and hugged him tightly.

He hugged back just as tight, “Merry Christmas Y/N!”

Y/N fell asleep soon after. All wrapped up in their fuzzy blanket cuddling close to the Doctor. And the Doctor? He held them close like a protective Caregiver would. And for the first time and a long time, he was happy. Truly and blissfully happy.

The note in the living room to Santa read as followed:

Dear Santa,

We apologize for the juice instead of milk. We almost fell into a coma trying to get milk. But thankfully we’re alive but without milk so please enjoy the glass of juice instead. Please thank the reindeers for their hard work and tell Ms. Clause Merry Christmas from us!

Sincerely,

Y/N and The Doctor

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funnyshapedpuddles · 4 months

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The Sides as dumb shit my group and I have said

These always make me laugh so I'm making my own for funsies.

Here's the (sanders) sides as dumb shit I or my GC has said.

Virgil: *deleted a message*

Logan: what did he say

Remus: that you smell like a rat's ass

Logan: *leaves the group*

Patton: how you kiddos doing :)

Virgil: jumping off of buildings and such. The usual.

Patton: omg

(That one was with my mom 👍)

Roman: we have such great ideas

Virgil: too bad we don't have enough motivation to put them into action

Roman: next thing you know the government has stolen our ideas and distributed them among the major entertainment companies so no one will believe us when we say the amazing ideas originated from OUR minds and we'll get kicked out and have to live on the streets as rats.

Roman: well you will. I'll be living as royalty once I've weaseled my way into working for Disney.

Virgil:

Virgil: are you good?

Logan: let me show you something cool really quick.

Logan: it's called a ✨comma✨.

Logan: placed between two words to seperate them as individuals when listing off multiple options.

Roman: womp womp

Logan: use the comma, love the comma, be the comma.

Patton: if you go to sleep right now, you'll probably wake up with a hundred messages from me :)

Logan: I'm sure I will. But also why?

Any: I consume too much dairy for being lactose intolerant

Virgil: I consume too much attention for having social anxiety

Virgil: istg atp I run off of MCR, water, and memes.

Patton: *loud laughter for a straight 5 minutes*

Patton: sorry I just needed to laugh

Virgil: that's fine. I wasn't about to call the mental health services or anything.

Remus: someone told me to go die

Janus: you have my permission to use your christmas present early. It's a machete.

Remus: YAY!

Remus: I wonder if dove soap bars have the same texture as dove chocolate.

Roman, joking: why don't you go figure it out

*a few minutes later*

Remus: it doesn't.

Remus: doesn't taste all that good either.

Thomas: my intrusive thoughts just told me to touch the hot pan.

Thomas: can you guess what I just did?

Logan:

Thomas:

Logan: did you touch the hot pan?

Thomas: I touched the hot pan. It hurt.

*the sides finishing a serious discussion*

Patton: for real

Patton: anyways

Patton: KARMA IS THE GUY ON THE CHEIFS, COMING STRAIGHT HOME TO MEEEEEE

Remus: hrrgh soap

Logan: what.

Remus: I shouldn't have eaten the soap.

Logan: what.

Remus: I'm going to kill Santy Claus!

Roman: No! I've worked hard to be a good boy this year, I expect presents! Santa can't give me my presents if he's dead! No killing Santa until I get my pony!

Remus: ...okay, jeez...

Logan: You need three things to make a fire. Oxygen, burnable material, and-

Remus: A will to destroy!

Logan: No.

#sanders sides #incorrect quotes #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

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fearsmagazine · 5 months

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SAW THE MUSICAL: THE UNAUTHORIZED PARODY OF SAW Extends Off-Broadway and Announces National Tour.

After an astonishing New York run this Fall, SAW The Musical The Unauthorized Parody of Saw has extended its run Off-Broadway at AMT Theatre (345 West 45th Street) through Jun 23, 2024. It will also kick off a national tour in LA with a six-week run beginning Feb 29 at the Hudson Theatres Mainstage (6539 Santa Monica Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90038 in Hollywood) SAW The Musical: The Unauthorized Parody began performances Off-Broadway on Sept 16, 2023, with its New York Opening Night on Sunday, Oct 1, 2023, and was called "Hilariously Absurd" by NPR. The run is extended through Jun 23, 2024, in Midtown's Theater District.

Danny Durr as Gordon and Jill Owen

The National Tour stops include Los Angeles, CA (Hudson Theatre Mainstage, Feb 29- Apr 7, 2024 ); San Diego, CA (Tenth Ave Arts Center, April 10 – 28, 2024), Las Vegas, NV (May 1 – 5, 2024), Portland, OR (Alberta Abbey, May 15 – Jun 9, 2024), Greely, CO (Union Colony Civic Center, June 2024), Chicago, IL (Jul 26 – Aug 18, 2024). Exact dates, locations, and tickets can be purchased by visiting www.sawthemusical.com/national-tour.

One of the most thought-provoking horror films of all time now is…a musical. SAW The Musical hilariously captures the events of the first movie, parodying the Saw that started it all, following from where Lawrence Gordon and Adam Stanheight find each other for the first time in the bathroom trap. Will they follow "the rules" as they discover each other's secrets? Will they escape the game in time and saw right through? A love story with fluidity (and lots more fluids), SAW The Musical: The Unauthorized Parody of Saw is Little Shop of Horrors meets Avenue Q, pushing the boundary on sexuality and how to love. [Parental Advisory: Explicit Content]

"SAW The Musical: The Unauthorized Parody of Saw brings the iconic horror film to life on stage with a wickedly funny twist. Now is the perfect time to laugh at the macabre as we blend horror and hair-raising laughter, creating a unique musical experience that's both hilarious and thrilling. Get ready for a love story entangled in traps, secrets, and unexpected humor, pushing the boundaries of entertainment with a dash of explicit fun." Cooper Jordan, Creator, and Producer

Created by Cooper Jordan (DEX! A Killer Musical, The Rat Pack Undead), SAW The Musical has a book by Award -Winning Writer Zoe Ann Jordan (Virtuoso - NYCHFF) and music & lyrics by Patrick Spencer & Anthony De Angelis (An Axemas Story), and directed & choreographed by Tony Award Winner Stephanie Rosenberg (Easter Bunny HOP! LIVE; Co-Producer: Moulin Rouge! The Musical, Anastasia) with music direction by Leigh Pomeranz (DEX! A Killer Musical) and fight direction by Dan Renkin (All My Sons, DEX! A Killer Musical). The Musical is produced by Cooper Jordan, Saw The Musical Parody LLC, Stephanie Rosenberg, Merciful Delusions Productions, Panit Chantranuluck, June Rachelson-Ospa, and more to be announced. Cooper Jordan is the Lead Producer.

SAW The Musical: The Unauthorized Parody of Saw (New York) stars Danny Durr (National Tour: A Christmas Carol, Tony-nominated War Paint) as Gordon, Adam Parbhoo (NY: Home's Kitchen) as Adam, Gabrielle Goodman (NY: Open, Stay) as Amanda/Alli/Jigsaw and Voiceover for Detective Tapp is by the late Donnell Johnson, with Swings & Understudies; Andrew Caira (New York: The Importance of Being Earnestly LGBTQ+, Regional/Tour: Atlantic City Blues Brothers), Patrick Voss Davis (Film: Lucky Louie. Regional: Newsies), James Lynch (New York: Baby Powder), Thomas Skea (Film: Out of Water), Morgan Traud (Regional: Mame), Jessica Morilak ("A Sketch of New York") and Keaton Barry. SAW The Musical's National Tour Casts will be announced in 2024.

For an updated schedule, National Tour tickets or to purchase tickets, please visit SawtheMusical.com.

#theater news #play news #saw the musical #national tour #Unauthorized Parody

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devilfic · 1 year

Note

could you do some more stuff on bruce with reader and dick ? the christmas one was ADORABLE AND I JUST CANT HANDLE okay thanks

a/n: you were probably hoping for something fluffy and I APOLOGIZE but I also really wanted to explore the relationship you'd have with dick when you first take him in and show how he grows to trust you ;-;;;;

imagine that it’s right after you and bruce take in dick. he’s angry, he’s grieving, he’s cold. it’s been a rough few weeks since the deaths of his parents. you and bruce had thought about having kids one day but it was never the right time, not until that night when it all happened and bruce looked at you and you just knew.

and then you’d somehow convinced this kid (this kid who looked the spitting image of your husband already, like he was destined to be yours) to let you keep him. not to be his parents because you could never replace john and mary grayson, but to give him a safe place to stay. dick is too young to be this angry but he agrees because he can’t find his parents’ killer when he’s too busy hopping from foster home to foster home with no end in sight.

and you expect that it’ll take time but it doesn’t make his rejection hurt any less. he never stays in the room long enough to talk to either of you, and when he does, he’s always asking about the investigation. it breaks your heart every time to tell him the gcpd are still looking, following leads that you both have a feeling lead nowhere. they don’t know where tony zucco is. you can see the frustration growing in him and the resentment too.

you try to be there because bruce can’t. how can he? he’s so busy looking, chasing those same leads as the bat every night. it makes it harder for dick to trust bruce. he’s a stranger to him. always working, never home. as far as dick was concerned, bruce didn’t give a rat’s ass about finding his parents’ murderer. but every night, from sundown to sun up, your husband was scouring the streets for the man that had ruined dick’s life. but you can’t tell dick that part. bruce isn’t ready.

and one night, it’s storming. it’s not uncommon in gotham but you feel your stomach flip at a crack of thunder. something pulls you out of your sleep, out of your empty bed and down the hall to dick’s room. the door is always shut and locked but now it’s cracked open. a peek inside and he’s nowhere to be found. your stomach drops at another crack of thunder.

you tear the penthouse apart and even alfred can’t tell you when he’d last seen him. it’s then that you notice his coat and shoes are gone, and you’re out the door with barely enough time to get dressed or to heed alfred’s warning.

your instincts are telling you that wherever he is, and god forbid he’s in a ditch somewhere with the kind of types that hang around the city this late, he’s close. even if you can’t see him. you keep searching the skies as if you’ll find him there when the bat signal flips on, and you realize that all this time, your instincts have been leading you right to it.

you reach the top of the building and find dick there, staring off into the sky, and you can’t help but demand to know what he was thinking running off like that. what if he’d gotten hurt or worse? what if you’d lost him for good?

and he’s got this look on his face like he’s freezing and doesn’t want you to notice because then you’ll just cover him in your coat and freeze too. because you would and have. you would do anything to protect him. “you won’t help me.”

“that’s not true, dick. these things take time. trust me, the gcpd is doing everything they can to find that man. we’re not letting zucco get away with what he did to your parents. you have to believe me.”

dick’s scoffing at you. If he wasn’t so small, still chubby-cheeked and rosy, his snark would put him beyond your years, “the police won’t find him. batman will.”

dick doesn’t know how right he is but you try to steer him away, telling him that batman is a vigilante and that there’s no way to prove if you can trust him, but it’s like everything you say goes in one ear and out the other. at some point, you tell him that bruce would be home soon and seeing dick missing would tear him up inside and, without missing a beat, dick tells you “he’d have to be around to care.”

and how do you reconcile with that? how do you make a child feel loved and cared for with nothing to show for it? nothing you can show for it?

you don’t know what you and bruce were thinking. you weren’t ready. you must have wanted to be so bad that you mistook it for something it wasn’t. dick grayson didn’t need new parents. he’d told you as much the minute you’d offered to take him in. of course he’d run away. as far as dick was concerned, all you’d given him was a pretty house to mourn in.

you almost forget why you’re up here.

dick spots him before you do, the dark knight, and from where you’re kneeling you can imagine what he must look like to a child. a boogeyman or an angel, something other than human. dick runs at him as if he’s all that and more. completely enamored. bruce can’t ask with dick there but his eyes flicker to you and you must look pitiful.

it’s just that dick is so. starstruck. you’ve never seen him like this in all the time he’s been with you. it almost feels worth it keeping the secret, then. “you came.” dick sighs.

you’re thinking about all the things bruce’s eyes are saying. he’s focused on this little boy, too afraid to look away, almost too afraid to speak. what if dick could tell? what if he mistook this for some cruel joke? but then bruce puts his hand on dick’s shoulder and would you believe it? for the first time, dick lets bruce touch him, “you called.”

“I need your help, batman.” dick pleads. you shut your eyes, unable to look at bruce or dick knowing what’s coming next. “someone took my parents away from me. I need to find him. and I need your help.”

a few moments pass. you dare crack open an eye, ready to sweep dick out of there and suffer his anger on the way home. anything to avoid seeing the inevitable heartbreak in your husband’s expression. you couldn’t take it. but you falter when you see bruce kneeling before the kid. he’s schooled his expression into something reminiscent of the symbol, the impenetrable, immovable batman, “the graysons, right? the flying graysons. you’re the kid.”

you can hear the shock in dick’s voice, “you know me?”

“I don’t forget a face,” you watch bruce smile, “or someone as talented as you. your parents were good people. I’m sorry for your loss… which is why I’m doing everything I can to find him, dick. I promise I’ll find him.”

“let me help.” bruce laughs—or gasps—at how sudden and stubborn his request is. dick immediately takes offense, “I’m not kidding.”

“no, no. I know you’re not. you just… remind me of someone. I believe you. but not just anybody can do what I do.”

“I can fight! a little. I need some training. but I’m really flexible! and I’m fast.”

“that’s good. people underestimate you when you’re small and lean.”

“how do I get superpowers like you?”

“I don’t have powers.”

“then how do you fly?”

bruce drags his cape between the two of them, eyes sparkling, “physics.”

dick doesn’t even know what that means. he still says “coooooool” like he does. “can I have a cape?”

taking dick’s hand in yours, you try your best not to say bruce’s name when you mean batman (because let’s be honest, the man in front of you is more bruce than anything—all soft eyes, tender voice, careful smiles), insisting that it’s late and way past dick’s bedtime and that you both really need to get home before this storm gets worse when dick begs batman to take you both home in his “super cool” car. and really, how can either of you refuse him?

so you keep him in your lap on the drive home, watching bruce explain what each of the little knobs and buttons do, but dick never runs out of questions. “how fast can you go?” “do you have other cars?” “does it have a name? can I name it?” bruce meets every single one of them with the breathless, youthful kind of joy you get when a child trusts you, really trusts and likes you. even if it’s not really him, it’s enough.

it must be a sight, crawling out of the batman’s car onto the sidewalk. dick clearly doesn’t want to go with his hands on the door begging to see batman again.

“you will,” bruce assures him, looking over at you for just a split second, “I promise.”

it’s days later when bruce gives you the go ahead and you take dick down into the elevator, the one you’d always told him didn’t work anymore. the first thing he sees is bruce at his desk with his cowl in his hands and that shocking black paint across his eyes, waiting with more fear than you’d seen in him fighting his greatest enemies. you don’t think he could take the rejection if this went badly.

bruce steps forward, kneels before dick, tender and vulnerable and open. dick’s shoulders tremble beneath your hands. “I think I found him, but I need your help. so no more secrets.” bruce holds out his hand, shaky and bare, “deal?”

dick is silent for a long time; lips pursed, eyes blown wide. you think he even stops breathing, his chest refusing to rise and fall. you brush a hand through his hair, whispering his name, and catch your husband’s worried eyes. was it too soon? had he scared off dick altogether?

but dick places his hand in bruce’s, so small in comparison. it’s such a shy touch that bruce doesn’t even close his hand around it, too afraid. doesn’t want to scare him. doesn’t want to indulge too much in this kid, so much like himself, finding safety and solace in him. because dick isn’t looking for parents. he wants answers, revenge, justice, whatever he called it to sleep better. and if all you and bruce could do for him is give him that closure, you would. and if dick wanted to leave when it was all said and done, you would let him do that too.

that evening, dick takes dinner with you two and alfred. you take heart in the fact that dick allows you this much. it’s one step, small as it may be, in the right direction.

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