#they really had a shot! they coulda been it!

[mybrainproblems]

honestly so thrilling to see this much drowley on the dash. i am thriving!

#i was very deep on a destiel fic but am now considering popping over to the drowley fic i started bc OUGH #they really had a shot! they coulda been it! #i dislike kidfic but they should've adopted baby amara! #i just think souls as junk food where dean is like no 🙅🏼‍♂️ and crowley occasionally gives her souls as a treat 😈 #without a steady diet of souls she ages at a normal rate and slowly develops her powers #i am very 😭🤷 about dean being mortal. idk how that works out. #drowley #spn

[crashandlivewrites]

I Need Your Discipline

My participation in @glitterypirateduck's SoapItUp event! I was initially gunning for Captain MacTavish but it wasn't coming together. Maybe I can get a second one out before the deadline.

Pairing: Soap x fem!reader

Summary: Soap 'accidentally' sends you a dick pic. You decide to teach him how to take nicer photos. Using prompt 29: "Was this your plan the entire time?"

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering (f receiving), unsolicited dick pic, consensual sending of nudes, coming in underwear

Word Count: 3.6k (it really got away from me whoops)

Captain Price had your attention all the way up until your phone buzzed in your pocket. Frowning, you took it out. You hadn’t been expecting a message from anyone and usually during meetings, you flicked it to only allow messages from fellow army personnel. Maybe you’d forgotten this time. 

One glance at the screen told you that Soap had messaged, which wasn’t surprising. He often got bored and liked to pick jokes during Price’s long debriefs. However, when you snuck a glance at him, he wasn’t paying any attention to you like he usually would be while waiting for a reaction. Frowning, you opened his message. 

It was his dick. Holy shit, Soap had sent you a picture of his penis. Suppressing a snort and shutting off your phone, you jerked your head up in confusion, trying to catch his attention, but he was acting completely engrossed with your Captain’s words. Sure, he’d always been light-hearted and playful, rubbing shoulders flirtatiously and throwing an arm around you any chance he got, but you’d also seen him out at the pub when he was actually trying to get in someone’s pants. And it had never seemed that way when he was taking to you, as much as you wanted it. Until now. 

Glancing back down at the message, you realised there was another message after it. 

> Just got back. Ready to hit pound town?

This time, you only just managed to cover your snort with a cough, earning the briefest of glances from Kyle sitting to your right. Quickly, you type a reply. 

< Not the welcome home present I was expecting from you, MacTavish

Soap reached into his pocket a few moments later, pulling out his phone with a smirk on his face to read the message. His face then morphed into confusion before his eyes visibly widened and snapped up to meet yours. Raising your eyebrows, you tilted your head questioningly at him. His fingers flew over the keys. 

> Fuck. That wasn’t for ye. I’m really fucking sorry

< Ouch. Nice to know I’m not good enough for your dick pics 

> Shoulda told me ye were feelin left out. Coulda sent one to ye earlier. Would that make ye feel better? 

< Nah. Received too many dick pics in my time. There are nicer ways to take nudes 

Soap lifted his head, brow creasing and lips pouting as though insulted at your statement. You grinned back at him, shrugging as you waited for him to reply. 

> My dick is pretty, thanks. Plenty of girls have liked it 

< Didn’t say that. Just saying there’s nicer ways to take hot pics than just a straight up dick shot 

> Oh yeah? Like what?

Biting your lip, you wondered if you really wanted to do this. You watch Price momentarily as you thought through the pros and cons of sending your teammate a nude of your own. 

Pro: you’re sending a hot picture of yourself to the guy you’ve been crushing on

Con: he may not be interested in you

Pro: if things go south, you also have his dick pic to hold ransom

Con: he’s less likely to be embarrassed by his dick getting passed around base. Especially when it looked like THAT.

You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head, waiting for your response. sucking in a deep breath, you scroll through your private photos, selecting one of your favourites. The picture accentuated your body as you were leaning against a wall wearing a pretty thong with one hand draped across your chest to squeeze your tits together and cover them over the middle. Grinning to yourself, you sent it to him. 

You knew he’d received the image when a choked off cough sounded from his side of the room. Glancing over, you could see Ghost thump him over the back as Soap sheepishly held up a bottle of water. 

“Sorry. Down the wrong pipe.” He wheezed; cheeks tinged pink as he met your eyes before returning to his phone. 

> What the fuck

> Warn a man before ye send shite like that

> Is that really you?

> Fuck me I ken ye were bonnie but darlin

> Ye got me bricked rn

A warm rush of arousal surged through you, knowing that one little photo had sent him into a spiral. Smirking, and refusing to meet his heavy gaze, you focused on Price for the remainder of the meeting, ignoring the fact your phone was buzzing incessantly. 

When Price finally dismissed the team, you didn’t even have time to push yourself up before the loud scrape of Soap’s chair filled the room and he marched over to you, nudging you out the door. His grip was like a vice on your arm as he steers you until he found an empty hallway. He pushed your back against the wall. 

“We gonna talk about what that was?” He holds up his phone and waves it in your face. Shrugging, you leaned back against the wall, arms folding across your chest. 

“You sent it first. Was just showing you what a good picture looks like.” 

“My pictures look nice.” His tone was indignant as he frowned, glancing down the hall to check no one was coming towards you.  

“Sure, because you’re decently attractive. That’s the only reason they’re passable.” 

“Decently attractive…” He huffs, looking haughty as he crossed his arms. 

“Why did you find my photo hot?” 

“I never said that.” Clearing your throat dramatically, you pulled out your phone and began to read in a mockery of his accent. 

“What the fuck? Warn a man before you send shite like that. Is that really you—”

“Haud yer wheesht! Fine, it was fucking hot.” 

“Why was it hot, MacTavish?” He chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced at the floor as he rocked back on his heels. 

“It was… sexy, without showing too much. Teasing and… fucking shite- fine! It made me want tae come over there and rip yer bloody kit off.” The corners of your lip twitched upwards, and you couldn’t fight the smirk that spread across your face. 

“You wanna see another?” 

The way his face lit up was almost comedic, before he frowned again. 

“Yer fucking having me on, aren’t ye?” He scowled. 

Pushing yourself off the wall, you slid your hands into your pockets, tilting your head as you stared at him coaxingly. He met your gaze, eyes squinting as he seemingly tried to read your expression before he sighed, head dipping for a moment before lifting back up again. 

“I’d like fer ye tae send me another.” He asked begrudgingly, fingers toying with his phone. “Please.”

Biting your lip to prevent him from seeing your sly grin, you picked out another. This one was taken from over your shoulder, the curve of your ass framed by a pretty black thong. His phone buzzed and his attention immediately snapped to it before he groaned. 

“Steamin’ hell, yer… shite, I cannae do this here.” He growls, eyes flashing dark with lust as they looked up at you. Blinking at him innocently only made his lip curl. “What’re ye playing at, darlin’?” 

“Just showing you how to really rile someone up.” 

“I’ll show ye riled up in a mo—”

“Would you like me to teach you, John?” You queried, seeing the interest immediately perk in his eyes. He paused in mid stride towards you, lips pursing. 

“Ye wanna teach me how tae take photos like that? I appreciate the effort, hen, but I’m not as bonnie as ye are. Ain’t got the tits fer that.”

“You got tits aplenty, MacTavish. Look at them.” Reaching out, you squeeze his pecs with a teasing grin, and he bats your hand away playfully. “You’re hot, Johnny. Lemme just help you… accentuate it.”

“Yer boostin mah ego there, lass.” He titters, eyes sharp as they trail down your body. “Ye sure yer willing?” 

“You sure you’re happy to miss out on your booty call for an impromptu photo shoot with your teammate?” You snark back, stepped forward to meet him halfway, boots tapping against his. Soap chuckled, finger tracing along your jaw as he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. 

“After ye sent me these?” He scoffs, waving his phone in front of your face. “I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye.” The look on his face was smug as he leaned back. Your face matched his as you gripped the front of his shirt. 

“Come with me then.”

As you shut your door behind you, you turned around to see Soap already tugging off his uniform. 

“Why are you taking your clothes off already?” You growled at him; eyes sharp as you shook your head. Soap’s brows furrowed, halfway between shrugging his shirt off. 

“Are we not takin’ nudes?” He asked bluntly, head tilting to the side. Letting out a breathy laugh, you locked your door and walked over to him, ruffling his mohawk causing him to squawk in protest. 

“Nudes aren’t just about being naked, idiot.” 

“Aye, they are. Is that not the whole point?” Rolling your eyes, you push him into a chair and wheel him in front of a mirror and standing behind him. 

“When you take photos of yourself at the gym— don’t lie, I know you do.” You frowned down at him as he opened his mouth, about to process. “When you take photos of yourself at the gym, what do you look for?” 

His face pinched in thought. “Making myself look good, I guess.” He shrugged. “Gettin’ my good angles.” 

“Taking nudes is much the same. You’re a fit guy. Work your body into the shots too.” 

“Aye, but I’m still fully clothed.” He points out, raising his brow as he looks at you in the mirror. Clicking your tongue, you leaned down, hands sliding down his firm chest as you plucked open his buttons, one by one. 

“It’s the uniform, MacTavish. Use it.” You purred into his ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it. He groaned softly; eyes fluttering closed as his breathing deepened. “See?” You pushed open his shirt revealing his toned chest. His eyes were fixed on you in the mirror, watching your every move with focused intent. 

“Now lean back slightly, spread your legs, roll your sleeves up, and tuck your thumb into your belt.” He did as you said, and you helped adjust the final touches, ruffling his hair once more before stepping out of sight. “Now take a few. You can change positions a little. Feel yourself, you know? Take what looks good.” 

You let him sit there for a few minutes, watching him closely as you leaned against the wall out of shot, feeling your body react to him. He was a natural taking pictures, adjusting his positioning slightly as he got into the feel of it. Finally, when he was satisfied, he turned his head to look at you, seeking your approval. Smiling, you stepped towards him, cupping his head as he blinked up at you expectantly. Resting your chin on his shoulder, he flicked through the photos for you. 

“Look at you. Don’t you look hot?” 

“Ye really think so?” His voice was soft as he turned his head slightly towards you. His long lashes cast slightly shadows over his cheeks, and you found yourself drawn into him. Blinking and breaking the trance, you didn’t answer, instead choosing to chuckle and raise your brow, standing back up. 

“Shirt off, next. Belt too but leave your pants on.” Soap nodded under your instruction, face flushing pink as he quickly rid himself of the items you’d specified, leaving him in his combat boots and pants. “Same kinda thing. Move around, pose. Flex a little. Especially your forearms and hands.” 

Again, you stepped back, this time admiring him more closely as he got more comfortable, turning around and playing with different angles. Your eyes drifted along the lines of back, tracing down his body as you felt the tension building in the room. 

Stepping forward, you came in behind him, hands sliding down his sides until you got to the buttons of his pants, undoing them with practiced ease. His cock pulsed with interest, and you could feel him thickening as you slid your hand down his front, rewarded with a soft groan. 

“Fuckin’ hell, hen. Ye’ve nae idea what ye do tae me.” 

“I have somewhat of a feeling.” You grinned over his shoulder, tucking his boxer briefs down so the base of his cock was evident in the mirror. “Take a picture of that.” You whispered, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before stepping back once more. 

Soap cursed, head turning to look at you with longing as you stepped back, but you pointed to the mirror, and he diligently turned. His hand slid down the toned planes of his body, thumb hooking in the waistband of his underwear and tugging them down to expose the thick base of his cock, hair trimmed, but on the longer side. 

Instead of looking at the camera, or at himself in the mirror, his eyes were on you, heady and lustful. The corners of your lips twitched upwards, and you began to slowly remove your own clothing until you were in nothing but your bra and underwear. Swearing under his breath, Soap roamed every inch of your exposed body, palm pressing into his groin as his hips jutted forwards. 

“Ye gonna fuckin’ ruin me, doll.” 

“Take off your pants and get on the bed, MacTavish.” 

“Aye, ma’am.” He said, eagerly moving to kick off his boots and pants before rolling onto the bed. Eagerly following behind him, you shuffled up the bed on your knees, straddling his thighs as your hands slid up to cup his semi-hard erection. 

“See how we’re not even naked and you’re already swelling in your boxers?” He groaned, head tipping back against the headboard as your hand pressed against him, working him up to full hardness. 

“It’s all you, hen. Fuck yer makin’ me ache.” He whined, eyebrows tilting upwards as he pleaded for more. Shaking your head, you took your hands off him to unclasp your bra and throw it aside. 

“One more. Want you to hold your cock and press it up against the fabric, so we can see the outline of the head.” 

He swore again but did as you asked. Gripping his cock tightly, he slapped it a few times against his leg as he stared at your breasts, swallowing thickly before turning his attention to the camera and taking a few shots. But it didn’t last long. 

Releasing his cock and throwing his phone aside, Soap wrapped his arms around you, flipping you over on the bed. As you lay sprawled, slightly surprised by the sudden change in position, Soap loomed above you, smirk evident on his face. 

“Yer in fer it now, dollie. Been teasin’ me this whole time. Getting tae touch me like that, tell me how to hold my own damn cock. Nah… I’m gonna touch you now.” He purred, eyes predatory as his hands squeezed your tits, thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you moan softly, arching your back. 

Soap titters, sliding further down your body to push your legs apart and settle himself between them. Humming to himself, he ran a finger down your covered centre, circling your clit lightly before prodding at your soaked entrance. 

“All this just from seein’ me take a few pics?” His eyes were gleaming in excitement as he hooked a finger underneath the material of your thong and pulled it aside. “Jesus, hen… ye look like a god damn dream.” 

Perching yourself up onto your elbows, you looked down at him between your legs, watching his expression as he tugged your underwear to the side and lowered his mouth to blow air over the wet, sensitive skin. 

“What’s this? Cannae stand a wee bit of teasing, bonnie lass?” You whined at his cocky tone, lifting your hips up slightly and he cooed, sliding your underwear down your legs and tossing it onto his pants. “I’m keeping that, just so you know.” 

Before you even had the chance to protest, his hands ran up the backs of your legs, spreading them out and holding them down as he sucked kissed along your inner thighs, nipping slightly as he went. 

“John…” Rolling your hips, you gripped the sheets in frustration. “Stop being an ass and put your mouth on me.” 

“God, yer pure gaggin’ fer it, ain’t ye?” His grin was feral as he dragged the lip of his tongue ever so lightly against the hood of your clit. “Admit this was what ye wanted as soon as ye got that snap of my cock.” 

In the dizzy haze of arousal, his words sparked something, and you stared down at him, eyes narrowed. 

“Was this your plan all along? Was there ever another girl you were meant to send that photo to?” He shrugged, lapping at your cunt and making your toes curl with pleasure as he chuckled against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. 

“That’s my secret tae ken, dollie. ‘Sides, ye really gonna complain when it’s yer bed I’m in and yer legs I’m between?” His smug expression made you want to bite back some sarcastic reply, but you just couldn’t find the words. “Didnae think so.” 

His mouth lowered onto your throbbing cunt, one hand moving to spread you open so his tongue could press in, tasting you. He groaned deeply, fingers digging into your leg as the thumb on his other hand flicked over your clit. His hips ground into the bed as he did so, making him moan again. 

Pulling back, you could see the sticky wetness of your arousal already covering his bottom lip and chin. As if he could tell where you were looking, he stuck out his tongue and dragged it along his lower lip, grinning as he watched you. 

“Cannae believe ye been holdin’ out on me. Could sit here between these legs and eat this cunt out for hours. Tastes so fucking good.” He dove back in, wrapping his lips and sucking on your clit as his fingers pressed into you. 

You gasped at the stretch, back arching off the bed as his fingers began to move, scissoring and spreading your cunt wider for him. He continued to suck your clit, tongue dragging over it as you cried out, gripping the sheets tightly as your pussy clenched around his fingers. 

“Fuck— Johnny please. God, you’re so fucking good.” You moaned breathlessly, panting as sweat beaded on your forehead. Soap let out a rumbling laugh as he kept his face pressed into your cunt, desperately trying to bring you over the edge. 

Lifting your head to look at him, you saw his hips driving desperately into the bed where the sheets had bundled up underneath his crotch. You managed to find your voice. 

“I taste that good huh? You gonna come just from eating me out?” He nodded eagerly, fingers curling and pumping into you with renewed intensity, heat curling viciously in your gut. 

“So fucking good. So fucking good fer me.” He mumbled; eyes boring into yours. “Please… I’m so fucking close. Need you tae come fer me, aye?” 

You nodded, panting, watching him as he focused his attention solely on you, humming softly as you felt your cunt throb with intense need, the feeling in your belly growing. 

“Johnny— oh fuck, please. Please!” Your legs twitched as your hips hitched upward and, with a cry of his name, you let yourself go, pussy spasming around his fingers as he groaned into your cunt, happily lapping at your juices as you climaxed. 

As you calmed down, body sagging into the bed, you looked down at Soap who was resting his head against your thigh, eyes glazed as he grinned up at you smugly. 

“Enjoy yerself there?” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it too.” You bit back, wiping your brow as you grinned lazily down at him. “I can see the mess in your underwear.” 

Soap simply shrugged, rolling onto his back to remove his underwear, wiping the remnants of his cum from his dick before sliding himself up the bed to settle next to you. 

“I said ye tasted fucking divine.” 

“Shut up, Johnny.” You pushed him slightly and he laughed, wrapping his arm around you. 

“We should keep this going.” He murmurs softly, glancing up at you. Blinking in surprise, you look over at him. 

“Thought you didn’t do relationships, MacTavish.” You warned, mostly for your own sake. He simply shrugged. 

“Wouldnae mind having ye ‘round to take some more photos with.” He said simply, nestling into the crook of your neck. “And I wouldnae mind eating that cunt every mornin’.” 

You rolled your eyes, but threaded your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly as he cuddled in close. 

“So those pictures we took are going to waste then, since you’re keeping me around?” You tease, poking his nose. He sniffs. 

“Gonna send them tae you instead. Make ye think about naught but my steamin’ hot body every meeting.” 

You smacked him over the head as you laughed, shaking your head at him. 

“Price’ll kill you if he finds out.” 

“Worth it.” He mumbles once more, squeezing you closer as he pressed a kiss to the base of your neck. 

#crash writes #soapitup #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish smut #john mactavish smut #soap smut #call of duty smut #cod smut #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod

[msbigredmachine]

Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: Smut

Click here if you want to be on my tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

-----

Answer your fuckin phone.

She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.

Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.

I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.

So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck, Joy!"

Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.

"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.

"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"

She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."

"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"

"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"

"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."

It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.

"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."

"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"

A long, tense moment crawls by.

"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.

"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.

"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."

She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.

"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.

"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.

Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.

Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.

She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.

But he's pissing her off right now.

"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.

"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."

The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."

"No. You just want pussy."

"That too," he snickers.

Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.

"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.

"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.

"I might be," she gasps.

"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."

Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."

"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.

"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."

The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.

"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.

"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.

"Make it five."

"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.

His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.

"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.

Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.

Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.

"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."

Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.

"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."

"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.

He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.

"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.

"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.

"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."

Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.

Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.

Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.

"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.

"Yes," he responds breathlessly.

"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.

"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.

"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"

She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."

Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.

A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.

"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.

Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.

Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.

Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.

"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.

The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."

She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...

"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.

"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.

Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."

"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.

"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.

"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.

"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.

"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.

"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.

"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.

Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."

Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.

"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."

"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."

His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.

"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."

Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.

"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.

Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...

"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.

"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.

"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.

"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.

Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.

"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."

"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"

"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."

"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.

"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...

"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.

Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.

Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘

"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.

"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.

"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.

I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.

"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.

Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"

"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"

Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."

"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."

She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.

THE END

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

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[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Joel Miller & his Darlin' One Shot: A Trouble Shared is a Trouble Halved Summary: You and Joel navigate settling down in Jackson as a couple with its ups and downs. (Post Outbreak)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,900

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), talk of eating, weight gain, oral (f receiving), angst, established relationship growing pains, argument

Author's Notes: Am I back? Maybe baby! I'm delighted to finally do what was asked of me in a poll and I thank you all for your love and patience.

Thanks be to @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, and @notjustjavierpena for their eyes, thots, and brains. And thank you to @noxturnalpascal for the THOT that gave life to this fic so very long ago.

“Eatin’ like it's your last day on earth, Miller...”, you teased with a wry smile as you walked past him in the dining hall.

“Shut it...”, he grumbled, a bit of pink flushing his cheeks. He took another bite of gravy-flooded mashed potatoes.

“What helping’s this? Third? Fourth?”

Joel looked at you, exasperated. “The fuck? Can't a man enjoy his girl’s cookin’ without the third degree?”

You smiled at him, loving how much of a rise you were getting. It had been a few months since you and Joel had your first encounter, and while nothing was made official, more often than not, you’d find yourself entwined with Joel in your bed at night. His heavy, full stomach pressed against your back as you both slept peacefully. While you enjoyed your time together, you were beginning to feel something was lacking, hence your teasing.

The cold glare he gave immediately dampened the playful banter between you. You felt a twist in your mood and sour heat in your stomach.

He shook his turkey leg at you, giving you a scolding look, and warned, “You better knock that shit off, Darlin’... or so help me, I’m not gonna - .”

“Not gonna what?”, you asked, getting closer, and you voice dropped down to a cool whisper only he could hear. “Not gonna fuck me? Pretty sure haven’t been doing that lately anyway, so what’d be the difference, huh?”

He sat back with wide eyes and his mouth open in shock, and his full belly sat rounded out on his lap. You stood up, brow raised, and arms crossed.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!”

Joel was affectionate, but usually too tired, full or both to do anything but let you ride him. And not to say you didn't enjoy it, but it was starting to feel a bit one sided. He hadn’t done anything beyond finger you a bit to get you ready and then sweet talk you into being on top again. He’d apologize and praise you, but you wanted more. Especially now that there was more to him.

His eating habits had really started to impact his physique; his jawline was softer, his arms and thighs were thicker, but his stomach was truly the star of the show. He’d made do with the clothes he had for as long as he could, but at the rate he was eating and the limited physical activity he’d been doing, he had to trade labor and time for new shirts and pants that would fit him. And on nights when he ate like this, you swore you could hear the seams praying to their polyester gods for mercy.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Coulda fooled me!”, he snapped, louder than he meant. “Seems to do the trick and make you whine and mewl like a beaten dog almost every night!”

You felt your face get hot as a few heads in the dining hall turned towards you. He sighed and his eyes softened as he saw your face fall a bit. But you held firm, pulling your mouth into a scowl.

“Not every night, nowhere near it. And I’m the one doing the work. I’m the one fuckin’ you!”, you hissed.

Before giving him a chance to say anything else, you quickly turned and went back into the kitchen.

*****

After storming out of the dining hall, you’d spent the rest of your shift cleaning the entire kitchen, probably to a degree it hadn’t been since its installation. You’d scrubbed and polished every surface with enough fury in your eyes that no one dared step in. It wasn’t until you heard the jukebox turn off and see the lights in the dining hall dim that you realized you’d been at this for a few hours.

As you leaned back against the counter, head down and thinking over how your and Joel’s interaction had escalated like that, you heard a small voice say your name. You looked up and saw Sally, one of the other kitchen attendants.

“Sorry - don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m tryin’ to close up and Joel won’t leave. Says he’s not leavin’ without’cha.”

You scoffed out a ‘for fuck’s sake’ then walked to the swinging doors, only to see Joel, still seated where he was before, leaning back in his chair and picking his teeth with a toothpick. His eyes met yours, and you knew just from the look he was giving, he had a lot more to say.

“Joel, go home. Need to close up and can’t if you’re here.”

He looked behind you at Sally and gave her a small wave. “I’ll help her close up, Sally. You run on home. We got this.”

“Joel!”, you hissed.

“Go on now, Sally.”

His tone left little room for Sally to argue, and she muttered a ‘good night’ as she passed by you then Joel as head made her way out the door.  You sighed, clenching your jaw, feeling the frustration and anger that you’d just weeded down in your cleaning frenzy begin to rise again. Joel watched Sally leave, then turned back to you, smug look on his face, made all the smugger as he noted your irritation.

“Darlin’, cut that shit out and come’ere.”, he crooned with a small grin, hilding his hand out to you.

You glared at him, not moving from your position.

He kept his hand out and raised his eyebrows and let out a huff. “Don’t make this old man beg, baby…”

“I think this old man has a lot more ground to cover than just beggin’.”, you responded cooly, crossing your arms across your chest. Before Joel could answer, you turned and went back to the kitchen to finish your duties.

You figured there was a 50 / 50 chance of Joel following you in, so as the door swung open and his heavy footsteps lumbered towards you, you knew he was at least picking up slightly on the passive aggressive breadcrumbs you’d dropped. You kept your back to him, drying cutlery and putting them into their respective bins.

“Darlin’…”

Joel’s voice was set low in a growl, leaving you unable to tell whether he was angry or aroused. You jumped as his hand grazed your lower back and settled on your waist, giving you a small squeeze.

“You wan’me to beg?”, he huskily growled into the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss to your skin.

“I gotta finish closin’ up, Joel.”, you stated, keeping your voice as even and unaffected as you could muster.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh-turned-grunt and let you go, stepping back. He leaned back against the wooden shelf behind him, the wood creaking in objection to his weight.

“Fuck, you’re being-“, he started, before letting out a huff. “What has gotten into you?”

Turning around, you were met with something you didn’t anticipate – a dark, sullen, glaring Joel, eyes burning into you.

“Joel-“, you groaned, before he cut you off.

“Don’t fuckin’ Joel me.”, he snapped. “You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve. You know what you said in front of the people eatin’ their food out there? You said I wasn’t fuckin’ you right. And then, I sit here like a goddamned fool, waitin’ for you to finish so we can talk, and you turn your back on me.”

“Joel, I need t-“

“Shut up! I ain’t done talkin’!”

You close your mouth and swallow hard. While you’d seen him get mad before, Joel had never directed it towards you before, and lord almighty, it sucked.

“You think I’m a fuckin’ mind reader? Think I’m gonna know you’re not happy?”, he asked, sounding loud and desperate, as he stood up and stalked towards you.

As he looked down at you, realization of how much bigger he was, in height and weight, came over you.

“I have said someth-“, you tried to argue, but his large hand grabbing yours and tugging you against him stopped you.

“Don’t interrupt me!”, he barked. “You aint said shit! And now you – fuck! No. You know what? Ain’t worth it!”

His eyes glowered down into yours and you in turn felt your eyes begin to sting with tears at the loss of contact. This was the most emotionally charged you’d seen Joel, and you wanted that same energy and passion when he fucked you, not use it to berate you for needing him to give you the same time and attention he showered on the food you cooked for the whole community. You could feel your face getting hot from the anger that was boiling in you over how overlooked you felt, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You were in a heated, frenzied spiral and reason and rationale had abandoned you.

Before you could snap back and tell him how worth it you actually were, Joel’s eyes softened; he let out a deep breath and let go of your arm and stepped back.

“I’ll… I’ll see you at home.”, Joel muttered before he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

You stood silently and watched him leave, feeling your heart break and immolate in your rib cage and hot tears fall down your face. It hit you hard just how hurt you both were.

*****

The house was dark when you walked in the front door. Joel had left no lights on, and you knew Ellie would be at Dina’s house for the night. The only hint you had to deduce that Joel was in fact home was the dim light you saw through his bedroom window as you approached the house. You hung your coat and tucked your boots on the shelf before quietly ascending the stairs to go to your room.

As you tiptoed in the hallways, you passed Joel’s bedroom door and heard him moving around his room. You could see his shadow from the light slipping under his doorway and felt your stomach curdle and sour, your mind jumping to rash conclusions about what he could be doing in there.

Was he packing to move out and get away from you?

Was he trying to clean up to remove your smell?

Was he collecting your things that you’d left in his room so he could hand them to you and tell you to get out?

As the thoughts rippled through your brain, you knew Joel was more methodical than that. He wouldn’t just leave or make you leave like that… would he?

You stepped forward, forgetting about that floorboard. The creak that sang out made both you and Joel’s shadow stop. You kept still for a moment, but the shadow didn’t move either. You were suddenly thrust back into your childhood; the times you were trying to sneak down into the kitchen to grab a snack or watch a blue movie on cable television without your parents catching you.

That fucking floorboard.

The shadow moved slightly, signaling Joel was getting closer to the door, and you moved quickly to your room, no longer caring how much noise you made. As you reached to grab your door handle, you heard Joel’s door pull open.

“Darlin’?”

Your hand clasped the knob, and you closed your eyes, hearing his voice.

“Yeah, Joel?”

You were surprised how soft and calm your voice sounded; it was a stark contrast to the overwhelming, post-anger, anxiety-ridden mess that was your mind.

“Turn around and look at me, Baby.”

“M’tired, Joel… Just gonna go to bed and – “

“I said turn around.”

It wasn’t a request. His tone was gentle, but you could feel it in your bones that this was a command - a soft one, but a command none the less. Your skin prickled in a wave of goosebumps, up your body, culminating at the base of your neck.

Joel must have been able to see the effect he had on you, because the voice he used to speak almost melted the flesh from your bones.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna turn around and look at me. Now.”

You turned around and looked at him. His broad and hefty silhouette stood ominously in his doorway, backlit by the soft glow from his bedroom.

“You comin’ to bed?”, Joel said quietly, but there was an edge to his tone that made your skin once again pebble.

You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at his question, then shook your head subtly.

“No, Joel. I figured we’d take the night an-“

“And what?”, he snapped, stepping out into the hallway and towards you.

When you didn’t answer, he took another few steps and growled in a lower tone, “And what?!”

Your eyes went wide as he got closer, and your fight or flight kicked in. Taking a step back, you hit your bedroom door, and stumbled through your words. “I… I-I thought… I figured that you’d wanna-“

“That I’d wanna what?”, he snarled, stepping close and his full belly pressed you further into your door.

“Th-that you’d… you’d wanna be… alone to-tonight…”

Joel’s hand came up and he grabbed your chin, forcing your face square to his. “And why d’you think that?”

“Because… because we fought-“

“And you think that gives you the right to not sleep in my bed?”

You were stunned; you had no answer for him, and you also hadn’t ever been this turned on by him with out him already being knuckle deep in your pussy. You swallowed hard and stared back at him. This was a feeling you couldn’t place; it felt like you were slipping under a spell that Joel was casting.

The only response you could finally give was a headshake, and Joel returned it with a curt nod and slight grin.

“Good girl.”, he purred and released your chin.

You followed Joel back into his room, and stood awkwardly as he closed the door. You’d been in his room countless times, and you’d never felt this out of place. You jumped when he put his hands on your hips from behind and pulled you back, the curve of your spine being the perfect angle for his heavy belly to fit against.

“You feel like I’m not takin’ care of you, Darlin’?”, he huskily mewled into your ear before nipping it.

“Joel, I’m sor-“

“Stop.”, he said, abruptly stopping you from finishing your apology.

“We’re past that, Darlin’. Both said things we needed to say, even if we said’em not so nicely.”

You could hear the small smile in his voice and couldn’t help the one that tugged at your mouth slightly. A whisper soft sound came out of you with a sigh. 

But then his tone dipped down, and as he rasped into your ear; one of his hands on your hip slipped to your front as he cupped your denim clad mound.

“You got my attention, baby. You feelin’ needy?”

Your mouth opened, and our flew a feather-light choked whimper. He gripped you roughly and pulled you snug against him, enough so that you could feel his thick and hard cock press against your ass.

“That why you had an attitude with me today? Needed me to fuck you? Fix that ache in your needy pussy?”

You breathed his name out as your brows furrowed and your eyes clenches closed. “Joel…” Your hand snapped on top of his over your crotch, forcing him to apply more pressure and squeeze.

“Need me to remind you that you’re mine?”, he growled before biting the crux of your neck and shoulder.

You nodded, breathing rapidly, then you let out a squeal as he shook your hand off his, then turned and shoved you against the wall. He got close and his hands made quick work in opening and shoving down your jeans. His eyes snapped up to yours and his hand dove between your legs.

“Fuck, baby…”, he sighed, eyes rolling back as he felt how wet you were. “My poor girl’s floodin’ the basement and it’s’all my fault.”

You grabbed his wrist, stabilizing yourself, and let whining pants out with each breath as his middle finger began to dip in an out of your hole. The tip of his thumb gently circled you’re aching clit.

“Yeah… I know I been neglectin’ you, baby girl… but not ‘cause of nothin’ you did… no, baby… you’re just keepin’ me too well fed and I’m fit to be tied by the time we get home… if I could fuck you the way you deserve every night…”

“Oh fuck… Joel, I need y –“

“But you always lettin’ me get away with being lazy an’watchin’ your perfect tits bounce while you fuck this fat old man…”, he rasped, his lids heavy as he watched your face contort in need. “Jesus, Darlin’, you got e’ry right to be cross with me…”

As much as you loved his voice, you needed more. Fisting his shirt, you pulled his face to yours and sucked him into a desperate and messy kiss, teeth and tongues colliding, and it was sharp and splitting. You didn’t need gentle – you needed him.

He finally pulled back, breathing heavily, same as you, and a grin tugged at his parted lips.

“Oh, Darlin’…”, he cooed, finger and thumb still working your cunt in tandem. He leaned in, ghosting his mouth over yours and asked in a voice so soft, you could have cried. “I need you to know how bad you got me, baby… tell me what I can do to prove it.”

Emboldened by his lust-blown eyes with heavy lids looking at you desperately, you put your hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle push down. A smile pulled at one side of his mouth, instantly understanding your silent request. He stepped back and groaned as he lowered himself down, joints cracking as he got on one knee, and he looked up as he pulled your jeans down further then helped you step out, one leg at a time. As he de-robed your second leg, he lifted it over his shoulder, and he scooted forward, and your eyes stayed trained on him, catching every detail, every twitch of his face as he breathed huskily and inhaled your scent. You watched his eyes flutter and roll back, like you were a buffet of fine cuisine, and he was a starved man. He pressed his nose in your crux and nudged in further, panting and swearing under his breath as he let your aroma and essence envelope him.

He took his time, as if he was making sure to catch every flavour, every note of your taste and smell, almost punishing himself for allowing you to feel unappreciated. His hands reached behind and pulled your hips forward into his face and you whimpered out a gasp as your shoulders planted against the wall behind you being the only thing keeping you upright.

“Joel…”, you breathed out, swallowing, trying to alleviate the dry mouth your open mouth breathing had caused. “Joel, please…”

He groaned into your warmth and opened his mouth, finally letting himself have a taste. His tongue licked out between your folds, starting slowly, but began to increase in intensity as he realized this was his favourite thing to savour. He grunted and panted as he lapped at you, his grip that held you so firmly to his face hurting you in the absolute best way possible.

Your fingers pulled his hair, aiding in keeping your core tightly affixed to his gaping maw, and you rocked your hip, mewling and crying out, begging him for more. Joel was in no position to deny you want you needed, not only because of the iron-clad connection currently created by both of your individual efforts, but he was eating his favourite thing. He’d denied you both for so long, he would happily suffocate between your thighs before ever taking a proper breath again if it paid the price of his sin. The noises he made as he ate and licked and devoured you sounded obscene - he sounded like a starved and feral dog, gnawing at a cut of meat tossed to him out of pity. You’re sure that if you saw his eyes, they’d be a black abyss like a shark’s as it bit down on its next meal.

The sounds he was ripping and peeling out of you were music to his ears, championing him further, pushing him harder to make you give him more of those delicious noises. He was rocking his hips in time with his mouth and tongue, letting his throbbing cock rut against the inside of his jean’s rough zipper. Between that, your taste and your fingers pulling his scalp taught with hair, he was in pure ecstasy.

He brought his hand attached to the shoulder your leg was propped up on and pushed two thick fingers into your core and began to pump them in and out - again, in time with his own hips’ rhythm. The white-hot burning coil that Joel had been slowly winding with his mouth finally sprung loose and snapped. You arched your back, silently screaming out as your body went rigid, and vaguely heard Joel growl. He continued to suck hard on your twitching and swollen clit and punched his fingers up into you as your rode out your orgasm. You heard liquid hitting the wood floor before you heard Joel let out a series of high-pitched groans.

His fingers slowed and his mouth was panting hot, quick breaths on your aching core. You looked down at him, chest heaving, to see him shakily pull his fingers from you and shove them in his mouth. Joel was a beautiful and carnal sight: breathing hard in grunts as he sucked his fingers clean. The act looked primitive, like he’d accessed his baser instincts, and he was satisfying a basic human need, a millennia in the making.

“Joel.”, you croaked, and he looked up at you with blurred eyes that slowly began to focus. He slowly pulled himself up, heaving his heavy belly. You helped him come back to his fully height and he leaned into you, pressing his forehead to yours. You could smell yourself on him as he kissed you softly before resuming your connection through foreheads.

“That was…”

“Yeah… fuck yeah… taste so good.”

“I wanna return the fav-“

Your hand cupped what you thought would be his hard cock, but stopped when you felt him softening and his jeans were warm and damp. You pulled your head back and looked at him, prompting a huffed laugh from Joel, pink flushing up his neck to his cheeks.

“You’re my favourite meal, Darlin’. You got me hooked.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

He pulled you away from the wall and onto the bed. He laid back and groaned as his spine relaxed. His full belly domed above him, moving gently up and down with each breath and you sat up, giving it a rub.

“You ate well tonight…”, you cooed, unbuckling his belt and opening his jean to access the mess he made.

He chuckled, supporting his head on an arm as he watched you with a grin. “Couldn’t help it… you serve food too good to not destroy myself on it, Darlin’.”

You shot him a look as you peeled back his damp and sticky underwear.

“Like I said, Darlin’…  you serve up a good meal.”

beef's glossary: The term "blue movie" is an old-fashioned slang term used to describe pornographic films, usually of the low budget variety.

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @tightjeansjavi@rubyfruitjungle@lilmizmoz @strang3lov3

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #chubby!joel miller #chubby!joel #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #chubby joe #chubby pedro rights !!! #chubby pedro pascal #fat belly #pedro pascal tummy nation #beefro's bistro #beefro is sweating #you asked beefro answered #🥩

[mutedkisses]

head over heels !!

cameron james x fem!reader !! best friends to lovers !!

warnings : swearing , fluff , cameron being so so so clueless.

synopsis ; in which cameron’s best friend writes a poem about a mystery boy for an english assignment and he is determined to find out who it’s about.

a/n:divider made by @cafekitsune <3 also ik that cameron is in a military family and moves around a lot but we’re gonna ignore that for the sake of the fic. lower case intended !! also i got all of the french from google translate 😶

it was a warm autumn wednesday at padua high school. you had been working restlessly on a poem you had been assigned for mr morgan. many hours had been spent to perfect it.

you were getting your book of shakespeares sonnets out of your locker, when all of a sudden non other than your best friend cameron came up beside you.

“hey y/n/n!” cameron smiled as he stood by your locker.

“hey cam.” you smiled. you had liked him for a while now. well, a while being three and a half years, since your freshman year.

“i brought you this.” he smiled giving you a caffeinated beverage (your choice). you smiled softly taking the drink from his hands, taking a sip.

“thanks cam. i really needed a pick me up.” you told him.

“i can tell.” he teased. you shove him lightly, as he lets out a soft giggle.

“cmon the bells gonna ring soon.” you told the boy, as he nodded, following you as you made your way to mr morgan’s class.

once you two got situated in your seats, mr morgan started class. “okay for the assignment i told you guys to write love poems, like shakespeare did. would anybody like to share? it coulda been about your couch for all i care” nobody had raised their hand. “fine, i’ll pick.” you sort of zoned out not paying attention to mr morgan until you felt a light nudge coming from beside you.

“ow!” you harshly muttered, looking to see cameron trying to get your attention.

“mr morgan said your up to present your poem.” he told you. you looked up to see mr morgan with his eyebrow raised and his arm crossed.

“are you just gonna sit in wonderland, alice? or are you gonna get up here and read your poem?” he asked sarcastically.

you muttered a soft apology as you grabbed your f/c binder and walked up to the front of the classroom. truth be told you were very nervous because the poem you had wrote was about cameron. but you didn’t want him to know that secret piece of information.

you cleared your throat and looked around the room, your subtle but nervous eyes meeting cameron’s soft brown irises. he gave you a reassuring smile as you returned it with a soft tight lipped one.

“we’re waiting.” mr morgan said impatiently. you quickly opened to the page and began to read aloud.

his moon , my sun , together we are one.

he is the ocean breeze to me , and one may not ask why.

it’s the coffee in the morning and tea at night.

and the way he gives off a mysterious light.

the snow falls down , and you’re still around.

my thoughts are present too. i would much rather be visited by you.

two lovers on the road , with no destination.

is what i would like to be without hesitation

my only words to that sweet question is “yes.”

you finished and shut the f/c binder as cameron grinned giving you a look of “you better explain.”

“well done nicholas sparks.” he remarked, moving on. all you felt was the sporadic glances that cameron would give you during class. you shot him glance and threw him a note telling him to drop it. in return he just rolled his eyes playfully.

after the class was over , you were fast to rush out not wanting to be faced with cameron’s interrogation. that was until he caught up with you.

“you need a ride home, remember.” he reminded you. in your mind , you mentally facepalmed yourself. “don’t worry i’ll go easy on you.” he teased.

“just let it go cam, it’s just a silly crush.” you muttered to him. cameron had a look of shock. his hand to his heart as he walked to his car.

“y/n/n if it was just a silly crush than you wouldn’t write a full romance novel about them!” he told you dramatically. alas, you signed knowing the brunette was right. “is it joey “eat me” donner?” he asked her. “because if it is you know i’ll try to be supportive but-“ you cut him off.

“cameron it is NOT joey. that’s ridiculous.” you spoke matter of factly as he opened the door to his car.

cameron started the ignition and head over heels by tears for fears was playing softly on the radio.

“what about jimmy? michael? brian? patrick? you know if it was patrick, i would 100% understand he is a pretty boy.” he muttered.

“cameron no.” you told him after shaking her head after all the previous names. “just drop it.” she sighed. there was a moment of silence.

“is it kat?” he softly spoke as he looked at you.

“CAMERON!” you exclaimed. a small chuckle left your lips at his determination. cameron figured he would drop it for now and move on to a separate subject.

“anyway, you promised to help me with my french homework remember?”

“yeah, don’t worry i didn’t forget.” you smiled softly, knowing french was cameron’s worst subject, but he tried managing a solid C- in the language.

as you two arrived at the james residence, you trudged your way upstairs and flopped onto cameron’s bed after putting on a tears for fears cassette , playing softly in the background. cameron followed as he sat down beside you, kicking off his shoes.

“mkay, salut! je mapelle y/n , comment allez-vous?” you spoke. cameron listened as you spoke in the language.

“hello, my name is y/n. how are you?” he repeated in english. a bright smile was displayed on your face.

“oui! très bien!” you praised him. he smiled sheepishly. “i’m beginning to think you don’t even need my help.” you teased him.

you two continued to do french homework until cameron spoke up. “give me a harder one.” he challenged. all of a sudden you were feeling pretty gutsy.

“okay cam.” you said, “tu es très jolie et je veux être plus que des amis.” you continued, a regretful feeling in the pit of your stomach as his gaze averted to figure out what you said. you could tell when it clicked.

“aww y/n/n i think you’re pretty too, but we are more than friends, i’m youre bestfriend silly.” he smiled. you’re eyes widened slightly, how did he not take the hint?

“no cam, not like that.” you informed him. you could practically see the question mark over his head. he pondered for a couple of seconds.

“like what?” he muttered. that feeling of confusion melted away once your lips were on his in a state of impulse. he melted into the kiss, as his hands grabbed your face and your hands grabbed each one of his shoulders.

once you two broke apart he was awestruck. “mamma mia.” he mumbled. his eyes as big as dinner plates and his mouth agape.

“wrong language cammy.” you teased.

“but…but that poem? that was about..” he trailed.

“you.” you calmly stated. he looked up to you softly.

“wait…how long?” he asked.

“since freshman year.” you told him.

“and you waited that long to do that?!” he asked, doubfoundedly.

“well i didn’t know if you felt the same way, and you went through that whole thing with bianca and that whole spew to get her to like you back and-“ you continued to ramble until cameron cut you off with another kiss.

“it’s always been you y/n/n. bianca was just to get my mind off of you because i was too scared to think of us as anything more than friends…i didn’t want to ruin that.” he mumbled, looking down at his homework.

you smiled softly at his confession. “well is it that hard to imagine with a visual?” you asked him. he looked up with a confused look, and those puppy dog eyes you adored. you kissed him once.

“i think i can see a picture in my head now.” he said against your lips.

all that was heard was head over heels playing softly in the background.

fin

a/n: help i feel like this lowkey sucked but like cameron my boy ): <333 also the poem is something i just made up on the spot 😭 anyway lmk what you think!!! reblogs w/ comments are always highly appreciated <333

sincerely yours , mars <3

french terms :

oui! très bien! - yes! good job!

tu es très jolie et je veux être plus que des amis. - you are very pretty and i want to be more than friends.

#10 things i hate about you #heath ledger #patrick verona #julia stiles #cameron james #kat stratford #bianca stratford #cameron x reader #cameron james x reader #ttihay #ttihay fanfic #ttihay imagine #ttihay oneshot #cameron james oneshot #cameron james fluff #he is so clueless 🥺🥺🥺 #french

[s-ublimewrites]

family pulled from the flood (melissa schemmenti x f!reader)

synopsis: melissa finally feels okay confronting that part of herself. as always, you're right there

words: ~1.5k

warnings: swearing, struggles with sexuality, alcohol, happy ending tho dw not unleashing full whump

note: as the resident gay friend, i've received the 'how did you know you like girls?' text so many times in my life. this is an homage to that - because i love it every damn time<3 title from the end of love by florence + the machine

Saturday nights, for you, are generally spent in a sea of your students' paperwork with a glass of whiskey in hand and an embarrassing amount of Wife Swap playing on the television. Tonight is no exception.

It's cold outside and freezing rain slaps against your window, making you shiver despite the warmth of your bedroom.

You're just about to take that first sip of amber liquid, eager to let the warmth settle you from the inside out, when a loud bang bang bang sounds from your front door. You take a few seconds to extract yourself from the vast expanse of Of Mice and Men analyses, and the knocking turns into frantic doorbell-ringing.

"I'm com- oh ow, fucking Christ," you swear, catching your ankle on the coffee table in your rush to stop your visitor from knocking your door down. "Coming! Be right there, hang on!"

You yank the door open, prepared to chew out your stupid fucking neighbor Gene for bothering you at 10 o'clock at night over parking, like, half an inch too close to his precious 2003 Ford Taurus.

The door swings open, though, and you're met with a shivering, soaked-to-the-bone redhead.

"Melissa?! The fuck are you doing here? Christ, woman!" You seize her by her leather jacket's soggy sleeve and yank her inside your apartment.

"Y'know," she shrugs, dripping icy water onto your hardwoods while she kicks her boots off, "was in the neighborhood."

You roll your eyes.

"Okay, you can tell me the truth after you've escaped hypothermia. Coulda shot me a text instead of freezing your ass off out there," you admonish.

You lead Melissa to your room, deposit her on your bed, and make a mental note to apologize to your students for the water-stained papers you'll have to return on Monday. Melissa picks at the skin around her thumbs while you root through your broad selection of sweatshirts.

"Didn't really plan on comin'," she says quietly, probably the quietest you've ever heard her. "Went for a drive to clear my head, and, well... Then I was in your driveway."

When you obtain a sweatshirt and turn to look at her, she's looking at her lap. "What could have been bad enough to force you outta the house in this weather?"

Green eyes flick up to meet yours and she opens her mouth like she's going to answer, but then she points at the well-loved Flyers hoodie in your hands. "That for me?"

You decide to let it go for now and relinquish the sweatshirt with a nod. For good measure, you snag the whiskey glass off of your bedside table and press it into her free hand. "This, too."

Melissa's mouth quirks into a half smile. "Knew I ended up in the right place. Thanks, hon."

The nickname makes you warmer than the liquor ever could have.

You give her some privacy to change and use the opportunity to pour yourself (another) glass of whiskey. You then plant yourself on the sofa, knee bouncing anxiously.

Melissa is clearly struggling with something, something big. Something that really matters to her. And you're friends - friends go to one another with problems, right? Something about it nags at you, though. It feels bigger - like Melissa doesn't just want any friend; like she sought you out specifically. When was the last time you ever 'just ended up' in someone's driveway?

More importantly: when was the last time Melissa had an important problem and sought out anyone who wasn't Barb?

You don't have time to ponder that. Melissa emerges from your bedroom decked in black and orange, feet bare, glass in hand. Her damp hair is pulled back and her eyes are soft as she joins you on the sofa and tucks her feet up underneath her. When you pull the throw from the back of your couch and toss it at her, she ensures you both have equal halves draped over your laps.

Now that she's warm and settled, there's no avoiding the matter at hand.

"Melissa?" you keep your voice soft. You shift to face her and your knee nudges hers under the blanket, and she doesn't move away. In fact, she barely notices you at all. Her eyes are distant, her head propped up by her unoccupied hand, her teeth worrying at her lower lip.

"Mel," you try again, and this time she jerks her head toward you as if she'd forgotten you were there. "Mel, are you okay?"

"Yeah," she says too quickly, nodding, before pausing. "No. Kinda? I dunno, I just-"

Melissa Schemmenti exists in such a permanent state of bravado in your mind that it never occurred to you that it could be false. Your heart clenches and you fight the urge to take her face in your hands and remind her that she's perfect. Instead, you let the silence hang between you, giving her space to continue.

Melissa looks at you properly for the first time all night. Her voice wavers when she speaks. "How did you know that you're into girls?"

Oh. You don't know what you expected, but it wasn't that. You didn't allow yourself to hope it could be that.

"I was young," you start. "Middle school. I cried so hard that I threw up when my best friend started dating this kid in the grade above us. I wondered why I wasn't enough for her. Then I realized that maybe I had a crush on her. And I'd never been more terrified."

"What did you do?"

You snort. "Freaked out for another four years until my next best friend kissed me after junior prom."

She's quiet again. You've decided that Melissa's loudness is your favorite thing about her.

You swallow hard. "Are you... asking for a friend?"

Melissa gazes back at you, eyes watery and voice raw. "I'm askin' for me."

"Okay," you say, and she nods, and neither of you speak again for a little while.

You've gotten questions like hers before, from others. You usually know what to tell them, how to guide them through it, but this is Melissa. Her trust, so fragile, is cradled in your hands and you're terrified of making the wrong move, of cracking its thin shell.

"Tell me what you're feeling." You're asking for more trust and you know it. You hope your sincerity is evident enough that Melissa doesn't flee from the conversation altogether.

Melissa thinks for a moment, and you're patient.

"I feel so fuckin' stupid, Y/N," she admits, and the tears in her eyes spill over. You feel your own eyes fill at the sight. "Who makes it to my age and doesn't fuckin' know who they're into?"

When you scooch closer, she lets you. You both sit criss-crossed, facing one another, and your legs press up against hers.

"You are not stupid, Melissa," you say earnestly.

She rolls her eyes, and when her hand comes up to swipe angrily at her tears, you intercept it and weave your fingers into hers.

"You're not," you repeat. "Mel, something is telling me you didn't have an awful lot of people encouraging you to explore your sexuality throughout your life. It's okay that it's only happening now."

Melissa doesn't reply. Her eyes rest on your joined hands, on your thumb that traces light arcs over hers. But she's listening, so you continue.

"I'm really proud of you, Melissa," you tell her, and that makes her head snap up so she can meet your gaze.

"What? Why?"

"It's hard telling people at first," you explain, "and the first one is the biggest hurdle. But you did it, and I'm proud of you."

She swallows. "I feel like I can tell you anything and you're gonna make me feel better about it."

You squeeze her hand. "You can always tell me anything, Mel. What else do you need from me? How else can I help you?"

"Just... tell me it's gonna be okay. Tell me how super fun being gay is and that during pride we're gonna get super drunk and slash a cop car's tires or somethin'."

You grin. "Well, duh. We can also do that on alternating Tuesdays if you really want to."

Melissa finally laughs and it sets your heart alight. "Thanks, hon."

"It is going to be okay, Melissa. Just trust me on that one."

"I do," she says easily, "I trust you with stuff I haven't trusted anyone with in a long time."

"Like your family's sauce recipe?"

"Not in writing, but yes," Melissa confirms. "But with the big stuff, too. Life stuff."

You grin. "It's an honor and a privilege, Melissa Schemmenti."

There's this look in her eye, one you can't quite place. She sets her glass down on the coffee table and steals your glass to repeat the action.

Melissa all but crawls into your lap to hug you, and you happily let her. She relaxes most of her weight against you, forehead pressed against your shoulder. You dont mention it when you feel the collar of your shirt grow damp, you just let her sniffle against your t-shirt and smooth your hands over her back.

You both know there will have to be more to this conversation, but that can wait. For now, this is more than enough.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter

[mj-fintastic]

Dumb, dumb feelings.

|Donatello X Reader one shot | Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff |

After you’ve been gone a whole college quarter, you come back to the New York sewers to spend winter break with the Mad Dogs. Except Donatello is acting rather strange…

………………………………………………………………

“Y/N!!” Mikey screeched, throwing himself at the girl. She was able to drop her bags just before contact, grasping onto the box turtle so that he wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“Woah! Be careful, I coulda dropped ya!” She mustered, as the boy was squeezing the life out of her.

“It’s nice to see you again, Y/N! How’s college going?” Raph put his hand on his hip, his signature snag tooth popping out of his smile.

“Oh, we’ll it’s been-!”

“BOOORIIIIING! Have you met anyone? Found any cute guys? I’m sure college is just FULL of em!”

“Leo!”

“Yes yes, everybody is positively thrilled to see Y/N again, now can we PLEASE focus on the task at hand?” Donnie sighed, rubbing his temples.

“What, the Jupiter Jim Jupithon?” Raph raised his brow.

“yeES! We haven’t even made popcorn, and while my palette is very refined, TUMMYTELLO IS HUNGRY! Can we at LEAST order a pizza before we get all mushy?” Y/N picked her bags up, struggling to walk as Mikey had attached himself to her leg.

“Someone is hangry, I see.” She smiled, making Donatello pout. Little did she know, Donnie had been seemingly unreasonably moody, almost gloomy, for the last two or so months. It was something everyone noticed, but nobody really knew why.

“It’s nice to see you too, hun.” Her gaze softened. No one questioned it, seeing as she had a habit of calling people nicknames, such as sweetie, honey, etc.

It had been awhile since he heard her refer to him as such though. His expression softened, no one particularly seeing his cheeks change hue slightly.

“I’ll go put my stuff in the lab. Thank you so much again for letting me stay during winter break, D.”

“Yes, yes, you’re welcome. Just hurry, or else I’m starting the movie without you.”

He was unusually dismissive towards her, which didn’t escape her as her smile lessened and she turned away and headed towards the lab. The turtles all turned towards Donatello as he walked to the kitchen and reached into a lower cabinet, trailing behind.

“You know Donnie, she came all this way to see us. Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know…a little nicer?” Raph prodded.

“She’s been gone for SO LONG!” Mikey dramatically whined.

“Please, Michelangelo. She’s been gone for a little over a college quarter. Besides, we have-what, three weeks with her?” He nonchalantly grabbed a bowl from the cabinet, closing the door with slightly more force than usual.

Besides, what do YOU know about her, anyways? He clenched his jaw. He knew he was being unreasonable, but something was just nagging at him. Something was bothering him, and the fact he didn’t know what it was…it was driving him insane. He wanted to watch the movie, but he wanted them to go away. He wanted to be left alone, but he didn’t want to be alone. Nothing was making sense, his contradictory wants and desires making him grasp at straws. And his brothers were simply just distracting him from figuring it out…or so is the logical conclusion, he thought. Clearly, that’s why he was upset…right?

“Seriously. Broski. You’ve been even more grouchy than ever, and being grouchy is like, your thing! So, it’s a little impressive, but also…kiiind of a mood killer.” Leo chimed in, as Mikey nodded enthusiastically.

“I mean, you’re kind of acting like you’re not happy to see Y/N. Did you not miss her?”

“What? Wh- of COURSE I missed her! Did you just happen to forget she’s my BEST FRIEND?” He strained his tympanum to make sure she wasn’t coming back yet, there’s no way she’d get over him calling her that in front of someone else. Let alone his brothers. He took a bag from the box of popcorn off the counter, before tossing it into the microwave and putting it in for 3 minutes…promptly ignoring the popcorn button that his brothers loved oh-so-much, despite the packagings instructions advising against it.

“Then what’s the DEAL, YO?!!” Mikey shouted, causing Donnie to tense. All the attention, confusion and noise was becoming too damn grating on his nerves. It was too much, all at once.

“THERE IS NO DEAL, “YO!” NOTHING IS GOING ON, I AM PERFECTLY FINE AND NORMAL AND NOT AT ALL UPSET!” He grated his teeth, body tense as he slumped and his volume increased.

There was a pause, as tension was thick.

The popcorn had started it’s signature popping process.

The other turtles stared, eyebrows raised.

“Ooookayyyy, sure Donnie. Whatever you say. Anywhizzle-“ Leo broke the silence. “-You’re gonna share that popcorn, right? Cause oh boy I am STARVING!” He turned, chuckling as he made way for the living room, shouting as he spun on his heel.

“Raph, order a pizza! We must be prePARED, to fight for INTERPLANETARY PEACE!”

The popping from the microwave slowed, the smell familiar and comforting.

“You know what I like, Raphie. THE CHEESIEST CHEESE PIZZA THEY GOT!! I can feel that warm, melty dairy bliss on my tongue as we speak!” Mikey turned to follow his blue brother, practically bouncing off the walls. Donnie grabbed the bag from the microwave, tearing it open before a large hand softly placed itself upon his shoulder. Donatello felt his muscles tense yet again.

“Donnie. I know something’s wrong. You can’t hide that from me. I may not be the brightest, but I’ll be damned if I don’t know my brothers.” Raphael said softly. Donnie inhaled deeply, relaxing slightly.

“Okay, fine. There may be a SLIGHT CHANCE…that something is wrong. BUT, HERE’S THE PROBLEM, RAPH-AI-EL.” His jaw tightened, turning to face his brother.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT THING MIGHT BE! NO CLUE! NOT ONE IDEA!” He gestured wildly upward, causing Raph to step back.

“AND IT IS SO INFURIATING. I HATE NOT KNOWING THINGS, RAPH YOU KNOW THIS ABOUT ME! HOW ON EARTH AM I SUPPOSED TO FIX WHAT IS WRONG IF I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS?”

“Oh man. This might be a better job for Doctor Feelings.” Raph looked on helplessly.

“No offense to Doctor Feelings…” Donnie paused.

“Okay, full offense- I hate Doctor Feelings.” He spat out the name like an unsavory strand of meat fat. Gross.

“What?! Why?”

“You know I don’t do well with…Emotions! They have no rhyme or reason, they’re inconsistent, they-“

“Okay, lemme stop you there, cause I know if I don’t, you’re gonna be at this all night.”

The purple clad turtle pouted and sighed, but knew he was right. He did tend to ramble, and no one was really fond of when he did…Except Y/N, but she was a rare exception. He felt the weird pang in his chest again, feeling his frustration only grow.

“Listen, I’m no Mikey. But I feel like while this has been an issue for a while, it got worse when Y/N got here. So whatever it is, maybe it’s gotta do with her. Maybe she said somethin’ that made you mad, or…I dunno, stepped on your shoes somehow. Figure that out, then go talk to her, alright?”

Donnie raised a finger.

“POLITELY.”

He lowered his hand.

“Alright, now come on, they’re gonna start without us!” He chimed, pulling out his phone as he dialed Tony Lou’s Pizza. Donatello sighed, putting another bag in the microwave. Something just wasn’t making sense.

………………………………………………………………………………

“Save me, Jupiter Jim! They’re going to make me swim in this comedically large piranha pit with also snakes and vipers and sharks if you don’t set me free!”

“Alas! Having to choose between saving planet JupiJarturNebula or save my partner…! What a heartbreaking, but extremely easy morally ethical decision!”

Everyone was on the edge of their seats, as the alien race of Angler-fish donkey people snidely chuckled with Red Fox in their clutches…Everyone but Donatello.

What could she have possibly done to make me angry? He questioned, occasionally stealing a glance at Y/n between fistfuls of popcorn.

I mean, we haven’t talked much while she’s been away, sure. How could one NOT want to talk to ME?! ORTHELLO VON RYAN?!!! However, he had to admit, college was difficult. Especially going full time AND having a job? He could see how she may not have had time. Besides, he was just as much at fault. As much as he missed her and thought about her, he never quite had the time between missions and projects to shoot her a text or call. Clearly, that couldn’t be the reason.

But nothing else came to mind. He had missed her so dearly, wanted to see her so badly…and now, here she was, hanging out with everyone. It wasn’t that he was upset she was here…what was it?

He paused as he stole another glance. The light brought attention to her nose, cheekbones…specifically her eyes. The reflection of the projection of stars, laser blasts and beautiful blues and purples made her eyes seem to shine. How he wished she would look at him, give him a better view, give him the unadulterated attention she was giving the projection on the wall.

His chest felt heavy again. Or…was heavy the right description? It felt like…a burning, but not the painful kind that a triple cheeseburger from McDonalds would give you. Once he embraced it, it felt…almost…nice.

Something happened in the movie that made her burst out laughing, and yet he couldn’t look away to save his own hide. If she looked now, she would most certainly notice his gaze. His face grew all the warmer, but he was too lost in thought to notice.

Her laugh was rather loud, he noticed. Unlike when they had first met. She was…quieter then. She had grown into herself a lot, gotten more comfortable. And it was…

Lovely.

Her voice struck a chord within him. It always had, but he never really noticed. He really had missed her. Her presence, her voice, her eyes…all he wanted was for her to notice him again.

And then it clicked.

“Alright, y’all! Two movies down, a JupiterJillion left to go!” She smiled, as the brothers roared in excitement.

“Oh! Uh, actually, Y/N…” Donnie started, before he felt a wave of nervousness splash him in the face once she turned to look at him. Her lips curved upwards towards her eyes slightly, as she made soft but direct eye contact.

Oh, God, what did Raph say? Run away and hide forever and throw away all means of communication and never ever ever - AND THAT’S TWO EVERS -under any circumstances talk to her ESPECIALLY ABOUT HOW YOU FEEL-yeah that sounded about right mhm totally!

“What’s up, D?” She gently prodded, urging him to continue.

“Can you…meet me in my lab in a moment? I want to talk to you about something.” He stood up, breaking the eye contact as he pulled out his phone, desperate to do something with his hands other than let them dangle awkwardly at his sides. The way she looked at him made him feel weak. He had gotten exactly what he wanted, for just a brief moment, before he had ruined it. Gosh, why couldn’t he just be normal around her?

“Of course! I’ll be there in just a minute.” She replied, cheery as ever, as she got to her feet as well.

“I’m just gonna start some more popcorn really quick.” She added as Donnie walked away, as he hummed a confirmation and made way to his lab.

As she walked to the kitchen, the brothers shot glances at one another as a familiar beeping sounded in the kitchen.

Another pause hung in the air, as they strained to hear her walk out of the kitchen.

“Okay, what’s going ON with those two?” Leo sputtered.

“I dunno, but I’m gonna make sure D ain’t being rude. It’s her winter break, after all! She deserves to have a good time, and I am fed up with his bad behavior.” Raphael concluded.

“Raph, are sure that’s a good idea? I mean…it seems pretty private if you ask me.” Mikey hinted with a raise of his brows. The snapping turtle, however, was dense to the implications.

“Nonsense! I’m sure nothing could go wrong by just checkin’.” He smiled, before heading off in Donnie’s footsteps.

…………………………………………………………………

Why was this so hard? He wiped his hands on his shorts a third time. His heart was racing, and he had no idea why. What was he going to say? His mouth felt dry, as he tried to think of what Mikey would say…

Just listen to your heart! You’ll feel much better if you’re honest with not only yourself, but the people around you! Communication is the key to any relationship, as is honesty.

Right, he scoffed. As if the truth does anything except hurt people. He found that no one really liked it when he told the truth, and sometimes all it did was hurt people’s feelings…or ruin a perfectly good friendship.

Yes, the truth can hurt. But sometimes, pain isn’t a bad thing. Pain is needed to learn, heal, grow as a person. And having someone lie to you can cause a lot more pain then telling the truth.

Well…that was true. What was he even going to say? He still didn’t really understand how he felt. How could he communicate it if he didn’t know what was going on?

Well, Mind Mikey wasn’t being very helpful anymore. He sighed, placing his hand on his plastron to feel his heart pulse rapidly. He hated this. He didn’t know what he wanted.

“Knock knock!”

He nearly jumped out of his own shell, as Y/N’s voice came from behind him.

She was barely peering in, hesitant to enter without permission.

“Did you seriously say that instead of, I don’t know-JUST KNOCKING?”

“You’re one to talk, hun.”

His stomach did a flip. Why now was the nickname giving him trouble? His eyes shifted, a soft hue of red accenting his cheeks. She didn’t fail to notice, brows furrowing.

“Donnie, is something…wrong? I know you don’t like talking about your emotions, but…” she spoke quietly, as she approached him. He couldn’t muster to look her in the eyes.

“I want you to know I’m always here for you. Whether you want to talk, just hang out…anything.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just…” he hesitated. What to say? Would it really be…okay? He bit his lip, feeling his face begin to burn as he only grew more nervous.

“Okay well maybe SOMETHING is wrong but I’m not really sure what but I think I maybe know what it is? But at the same time I don’t know for sure and I-I just-“ he rushed through his words, speaking with his hands before sharply inhaling and restarting.

“I…I feel as though…I may have made you feel like I wasn’t happy to see you again, which is absolutely not the case. I just…” another pause.

“It’s okay, take your time Donatello.”

He looked at her with big eyes. Her expression was soft, understanding and comforting as she smiled patiently. He felt himself melt ever so slightly. Taking a moment to compose himself, he looked away again.

“…I just…missed you so much, I…The fact that I wasn’t able to spend time with you first made me upset, when in my mind I had envisioned something different…I felt like…” this was humiliating. He could just see Dr. Feelings watching and giving him a thumbs up in his head…he hated it.

“Like…my brothers were stealing you away from me, and that…you liked them more than me.” Dr. Feelings shot him a look.

“Did I make you feel that way?” Her brows turned upwards.

“No. I realize that, while I want to spend time with you the most…my brothers want to spend time with you too. So therefore…this was the best solution. To spend time with everyone at once before spending time with people individually. But at the same time, knowing that…didn’t change how I felt.” He shrunk in on himself, feeling small. Until she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“That’s completely normal. And, if you want, we could stay in here for awhile and spend some time one on one. I wouldn’t mind, I missed you too, you know.”

The look in her eyes were so warm, and the gentle touch made him lean in slightly. He folded, hugging her around her waist and burying his face in her stomach. The feeling of her touch after so long…he didn’t realize how much he longed for it. He felt her hand pull his goggles off, setting them to the side, before she started gently petting his head as the other laid on his battle shell. Normally, he hated being touched. But she…she was an exception. When it came to her gentle, graceful hands…he melted further and further into her.

…………………………………………………………………………………

Raph huffed as he made his way to the lair, his steps quiet.

“Man, if that Idiot is hurting her feelings I swear…Good thing Raph’s not gonna let that happen!” He chuckled to himself, before preparing to peer in.

“I’m surprised I’m not hearin’ fighting-“ looking in, he stopped in his tracks.

They were both sitting on the floor, Donnie with his arms around her and face rubbing into her lower abdomen, eyes wet as she held him and cooed softly.

“It’s alright, Donnie, I’m here now. We have so much time to spend together, and trust me…you’re going to get the brunt of the attention.” She laughed softly.

“Three weeks isn’t enough.” He murmured, making her blush slightly as Raph’s jaw dropped. Never in a million years did he think he’d see Donnie this open with someone. Honestly, he felt a little jealous that he wasn’t that open with him, but clearly something happening between them that was…much different. Suddenly, he realized exactly what Mikey has meant by private.

“I’ll only be gone for another two months or so, again.”

IT WAS TWO MONTHS?? Raph connected the dots in his brain. The whole reason Donnie had been a gigantic grump was because…he missed her? God, Donnie is a real knucklehead when it came to feelings.

“I know…I don’t want you to go.” He whispered, a single tear threatening to spill.

“I missed you so much. I don’t want to miss you again.”

The blush on her face only worsened.

“Oh, Donnie…Honey, it’ll be alright. I’ll always come back. You think I could ever go without you for more than a quarter? You’re my favorite person in this world. You’re the one I’ll always look forward to coming home to.”

Donnie pulled away, her words striking a chord within him as he looked at her. With a single sentence, she had made him melt to his core.

You’re the one I’ll always look forward to coming home to.

Suddenly, in one movement, Donatello moved up towards her face, hand cupping her jawline as he suddenly embraced her.

Her eyes were wide, taking a moment to process, before she melted into him with a small, content hum. His brows turned upward, resting his other arm over her shoulder as he slightly twisted his head to better fit her lips.

Welp. Despite his utter shock, now was absolutely the time for Raph to dip, he thought. However, he didn’t move an inch.

Hey, wait. What’s going on?!! I should probably get moving! He thought again.

HE HAD HIS FIRST KISS BEFORE ANY OF US?!! DONNIE?!!! Mind Raph roared.

Uh, Mind Raph, We should probably go. This is getting kinda creepy.

What? This is like a Soap Opera, I gotta know what happens next!!

Hey, that’s our brother, not free entertainment!

Even better, we should record them. I mean, no one’s gonna believe us otherwise.

WHAT?!! ARE YOU INSANE?!!

No, I’m Mind Raph. Thought that was pretty obvious.

That would be SUCH AN INVASION OF PRIVACY!!

Yeah, but it’d be funny.

…

Raph quickly pulled out his phone, and snapped a quick picture of the two. I mean, how much blackmail does Donnie have on him, I’m comparison? Plus…It was just too gosh darn cute to see his baby brother have his first kiss. With that, he walked away.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

Her soft lips pressing against his made him shiver, wanting to feel them thoroughly as he pressed again and again. He wanted to spill everything, how inexperienced he was, how sorry he was for randomly embracing her the way he did, but also how long he had wanted to do it for. And yet, he didn’t need to. And when she had hummed the way she did, he felt weak to his core. Her lips were heavenly, sweet with a hint of popcorn, and just the fact that he got to know what her lips tasted like made him utterly breathless. He felt her arms around his waist, hand caressing the lower back of his battle shell, and suddenly he had the urge to take it off.

Am I ready for that? He pulled away, looking into her eyes as he thought.

Would she love me the same? He bit his lip nervously.

“Donnie?” She murmured, sending a chill up his shell.

Only one way to find out.

He let go of her for a moment, reaching up to the straps connected to his Plastron and pressing two small hidden panels simultaneously. The battle shell fell behind him as Y/N moved her hands out of the way slightly. Her eyes widened, a blush accenting her cheeks.

“Donnie…I…” she paused, as he listened tentatively and nervously.

“Can I…?”

He nodded.

He felt her hands gently place themselves onto his soft shell, another shiver going through his body. Her hands were warm, soft…nice. He felt his eyes flutter closed as he bit his lip. It felt amazing, her delicate touch as she caressed. He leaned into her, before fully wrapping his arms underneath hers and leaving his hands on her upper back as he buried his face in her shoulder.

“God…” she whispered beneath her breath, before chuckling softly.

“I hate how in love with you I am.” She smiled, turning her head to place a kiss on his head. He responded by nuzzling further against her.

“I love you so much.” She cooed.

Normally, he would despise being treated this way. And yet…he had never felt more loved, more safe.

It was quiet. The only sounds were those of their breathing, and her hands moving across his shell. It was cold in the lair, and yet, he felt the most warm he had ever felt. She smelled ever so slightly of perfume, and he could faintly taste her on his lips. It was fairly dark in the lair, but the purple lights comforted him in a way he couldn’t describe. And everything was just so…warm. Perfect, safe, warm…

He pulled away slightly to press another chaste kiss into her lips, feeling almost entranced by the atmosphere and by his own feelings for her. When the kiss ended, he only moved far away enough to give him room to speak. When he did, he could feel his lips brush hers ever so slightly.

“I…I’m so in love with you.” He whispered breathlessly. “I never want you to leave.”

She only smiled, gently pressing her forehead into his.

“I may leave, but I’m still yours. No matter how far away I am.”

She held his face in her hand, and all he could do was nuzzle into her touch more. No matter how close they were, it just wasn’t close enough. For once, he wasn’t thinking. All of his focus was directed towards her loving embrace.

RING RING! RING RING!

As if snapped out of a trance, Donnie jumped and reached for his phone in his pocket. His screen displayed Red Leader, as he felt himself flush.

“Hey Donnie~ How’s it going with Y/N?~” His older brother said, his tone slightly strange.

“O-OH, UH- Marvelously, fantastic, why?” He sweated, face red.

“Oh, I bet. Enjoying some…quality time?” He cooed, and Donnie could practically see his eyebrows wiggle.

“Uh- why are you talking like that?” He answered, monotone, trying to mask his nervousness.

“No reason…no reason at all.”

“Right…why did you call me?”

“Well, when are you two coming back down for the marathon? We’re already done with the next movie!”

“Oh! Erm, well…Soon?”

“Alright then, hurry it up!…Buncha smoochers.” He added teasingly at the end.

“WH-WAIT HOW-“ Click!

How the fuck did he know? DOES HE KNOW?!!

“Well, what’s up, D?” Y/N touched his shoulder, making him even more of a flustered mess.

“OH WELL UH-“ he cleared his throat. “Raph was uh-just-curious if we were coming back for the marathon soon.”

“Are we?”

“…”

“…”

“Ok maybe another few minutes wouldn’t hurt-“

“Oh yeah absolutely they probably won’t notice.”

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello x reader #rottmnt fanfiction #Donnie #donnie x reader #donatello #oneshot

[bagofshinyrocks]

Face to Face

Prompt: Reader has vitiligo and is insecure about it. Ghost finds it attractive. [Requested by anonymous]

Featuring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: insecurity about vitiligo; past teasing/bullying/disrespect/etc. regarding vitiligo; no reference to genitalia, but reader uses he/him pronouns; besides the skin condition, no reference to the reader's skin color; no smut, but nudity; two dudes who like dudes making jokes about dudes liking dudes

Note: Vitiligo is an autoimmune disorder wherein patches of skin lose pigment. I totally recommend looking it up if you haven't heard of it.

A/N: Brain shit itself, but hopefully this is still enjoyable to y'all.

You could have kicked yourself. All the years of prods and nicknames (especially in the military), polite and impolite inquiries, stares. You had tried sunscreen, makeup, every medicine available to you either at home or in the clinics. Even did some research on phototherapy.

And you could have just worn a fucking balaclava like this bloke from ‘Manchesta’ (with quite the man-chest). No one even looked at him for very long. You figured wearing a goofy costume mask would get eternal ribbing, but no. None at all. Very relieving to you.

The next time you changed bases you started wearing something to hide your face. Balaclava, facial mask, sunglasses. If it was in regs, you wore it. And it felt a bit better. Not that you couldn’t go outside without something, but the looks or stares didn’t bother you.

You coulda kissed Ghost for having such a genius idea.

Then you actually got to know the bastard. God, he was scary. No wonder no one teased him.

You started working with Ghost on base a few weeks after first seeing him, and the two of you were actually on friendly terms. You were one of the few he seemed to like. If it was it a good thing or a bad thing, you weren’t quite sure yet. 

He would sit with you at meals where you got glimpses underneath that mask. Find you during training and start competitions. Playful nudges and shoves in the hall. Ribbing and teasing. It was really nice.

“Have I started a trend?” he teased, plucking at the cloth of his mask.

“You do realize its like ten degrees outside? Not interested in snot-sickles every time I sneeze.”

A rare chuckle. “Tha’s true. Snot-sickles are prob’ly not in the regs.”

“Definitely not. Distracting. Unprofessional.”

A gloved hand landed on your shoulder and gave you a good shake. “I bet you could pull it off though.”

“Oh, you betcha.”

It hadn’t even occurred to you that Ghost had yet to see your face. He’d seen your hands and forearms, and you figured that he knew what vitiligo was and that odds are it was on your face too. You appreciated the balance. He knew which mask jokes were funny and which were uncomfortable, and you two could shoot back and forth.

Finally, after some disgusting obstacle training, you were in the men’s room together, bitching and stripping in a wholly unsexy manner.

“Fuckin’ God,” you gagged, wringing out socks and shoving them in the laundry bag.

“I’d rather get shot in the arse than do that again.” The heavy thunk of boots on the tile. Then he braced himself on the counter and slipped out of his outermost pants. You whistled, and he told you to fuck off.

You went to the showers and decided it would be most efficient to rinse your clothes and gear at the same time as you washed yourself.

Your helmet, the various plastic pads on your joints and limbs, your vest. The slowest, muddiest strip tease. You’d rinse off your shirt a bit, ruck it off and wring it out like a towel and chuck it to the side. Then your pants, your undershirt. 

A quick glance behind you and you could see Ghost continuing to struggle with twigs and leaves stuck in the straps of his tactical vest.

You shucked off your undergarments and a good round of water and body wash got the mud, dirt, and sweat off. It had been a minute since you showered with someone else there in the group shower rather than the little cubbies. But Ghost wasn’t looking. You thought.

He had told himself that he was only staring at your naked ass and back because he was curious about your skin. He thought it was maybe burns or scarring, but it appeared all over your body. They didn’t look painful or raised. They were fascinating. Sexy.

His head snapped back to the front and he yanked off his vest. Was he being a creep? A sneaky glance back to you. You were none the wiser.

If he wasn’t staring at your vitiligo, did that mean he was staring at your ass? Nah, you were his mate. Wanting to touch your skin was because he wanted to see if the depigmented patches were raised, or felt different. He wanted to see if the same pigmentation was on your front. Symmetric or asymmetric. Not because he wanted to see anything in particular on the front of your body.

The water shut off and his head jerked away.

Whilst distracted, he had stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and rinsed off a bit in the sink. 

You wandered back over with a towel wrapped around you and another in your hand, drying your face and head.

“Mate, I had mud in places I didn’t even know I had.”

Ghost chuckled. “Wash behind your ears?”

You tilted your head and showed him. “Yep. With soap even.”

Finally, his eyes fixed on your face. You were in front of a mirror, but you were distracted with brushing your teeth and checking yourself for cuts and bruises. And he wasn’t being a creep. Right? Fuck, he felt like a freak.

To make himself feel better, he tugged off his balaclava and dropped it with the rest of his discarded clothes. A cursory scrub of his face in the sink.

Oh, good, he wasn’t being a freak. Because your eyes kept darting to his face.

“Alright, 50 minutes.” You patted the washing machine. “Time for a fat nap.”

Simon wrapped an arm around your neck and gave it a gentle squeeze. You grabbed at his bicep and turned to look at him. So close, his nose almost brushed the skin of your cheek.

“Harder, sir.”

He almost laughed but kept it in. A quick movement and you found yourself in the hallway as Simon dragged you backwards to his room.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

You went limp and he finally laughed. 

“That won’t save you, pretty boy.”

Goosebumps. A warm rush of blood under the skin of your face. A funny feeling in your stomach. The hair on the back of your neck stood up. You were not excited to decode why you had that reaction to those words.

The officer’s quarters were nicer than the regular ones, with a private room. Small, but private. So (what felt like) a few seconds later you were in Simon’s room. On his bed. On top of the sheets, but still on the bed.

Then he crammed in next to you.

“It’s fine if it’s back to back,” he teased, pressing up against you and ‘got comfortable’, meaning he was rocking around and bumping into you on purpose.

“Yeah, sure. You like having your ass against my ass L.T.?”

“Fuck we supposed to do? Lay dick to dick? Snuggle arse to dick?”

“I’m wearing socks, L.T.” You flipped around and settled your hands over his shoulder blades. “Want a… back rub, sir?”, you said as sensually as you could while trying not to laugh.

Simon craned his neck. “You will turn back around and make our arses kiss or I’m going to break your arms.”

The bed shook with your laughter.

“We have 47 minutes to nap. Hop to.”

“Yes, sir.”

Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)

Posted: 2024 January 7

#cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 fluff #cod x reader #cod fluff #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost fluff

[not-neverland06]

Alone And Forsaken pt. 2

Joel Miller x fem!reader

A/N: clearly I don’t do one shots, I tried, I failed. I can’t help it he’s just so fine (@woodland-mist you asked so, here you go)

WC: 5.6K

Part one

You weaved through the throng of people in the town square, hoping to get by unnoticed. Maria had told you where to find Tommy, you should have known it wouldn’t be easy, nothing with him ever really was. 

“Y/N! Hey!” 

Nope

You had one goal and it was not to meet and greet with all your neighbors. You ducked your head down, hiding yourself in the passing throng of people and evading them. It was a new couple that had just moved to Jackson a few days ago. 

You, of course, had protested anyone new coming in after the incident with Abby and her people. But because you and the brothers had been less than forthcoming with what happened and no one had any reason to listen to your doubts. 

They’d been moved into the big house across from you and Joel, because they needed the space. 

Because she was pregnant. 

In three months your life was going to get very loud and very miserable. 

The couple was too nice for your taste. You’d just barely gotten used to staying in Jackson for longer than two weeks, then Maria went ahead and shoved the two friendliest people you’d even met down your throat. 

Maybe you were too bitter. Maybe everyone was right, you should try and socialize, give people the benefit of the doubt before you write them off. 

“Do you see where she went, honey?”

Then again, maybe not. 

You rushed into the Tipsy Bison before they could spot you. You were sure they would tell Joel about this when they spotted him on the porch with his morning coffee. And you were sure he would give you hell for it, but you already have to deal with Tommy this morning. They can go bother someone else. 

You glanced around the bar, spotting some blonde hair in the back. When you rounded the tables you could see Tommy was busy haggling with Sam, trying to trade a shirt for some of his roast beef sandwiches. 

“I think I’m offering more than enough for some sandwiches, Sam.” Tommy, being the de facto leader after Maria, was trying to maintain a semblance of diplomacy. 

Sam was a stubborn jackass and you knew if you didn’t do something this would take all day. You walked up and nodded a greeting to Tommy before glaring at Sam. “Give him the sandwiches.”

Sam glared at you, trying his damndest to look down his nose at you. “Mind your fucking business.”

Tommy straightened up, a frown on his face. Neither he nor his brother had ever been good at losing the whole Texan chivalry thing. They didn’t do well when someone disrespected a ‘lady’ in front of them. “I think you need to watch your tone, Sam.”

You held up a hand towards Tommy, stopping him from getting too riled up. You already had a less than respectable reputation in Jackson, didn’t need to drag him down with you. “Give him the sandwiches, and we won’t need to get Joel involved.”

Sam opened and closed his mouth, he glanced between you and Tommy, like he was trying to call your bluff. You couldn’t really help yourself as your hand drifted down to land on your holster, your fingers idly drumming against the leather. Finally he huffed, mumbled something prickish under his breath and shoved the sandwiches into Tommy’s hands, snatching the shirt. You watched until he retreated into the kitchen to address Tommy. 

“You probably coulda kept the shirt.”

Tommy shrugged, tucking the food in his pack. “Yeah, but we do things a certain way here. Can’t just go flashing your pistol at people.”

You scoffed, “Didn’t flash my pistol, I used your brother.”

Tommy chuckled and nodded his head towards the bar’s exit. You followed him outside, looking around to make sure the coast was clear of your neighbors. When you turned back to face him he was giving you an odd look. “What’re you so jumpy for?”

You sighed, “Your wife decided to move Mr. and Mrs. Rogers next to me and Joel.”

Tommy smiled and laughed, most definitely at your expense. “You mean Ann and James,” you nodded, ushering him along the sidewalk in case they popped up again. “They’re nice people, I think she’s just trying to get you to branch out.”

“Don’t need to,” you grunted out. Though, hunching over, hiding from anyone who wants to talk to you, you weren’t sure you were making a great case for yourself. You straightened up and glared at him, “‘Sides, I didn’t come out to chat about my new neighbors. I want to talk about the Harvest Festival and my ‘date.’” You couldn’t keep the disdain out of your voice if you tried, which you weren’t.

“Bob,” Tommy offered. You rolled your eyes and nodded. “What about it?”

“I’m not going.”

Tommy crossed his arms and smirked. “Says who?”

“Me,” you weren’t sure what he wanted from you. 

“And why not?”

Oh. Oh. That stupid smug little look was back on his face. How in the hell does he know? “I think you know why.”

He shook his head, “Nope, don’t think I do.”

He was really making you do this? “I can’t go because of Joel.”

“What’s my brother got to do with this?”

You opened your mouth, some argument at the tip of your tongue, but it was lost to you the second you tried to speak it into existence. Why couldn’t you go?

You broke apart from Joel slowly, neither of you in any sort of rush to end this. Idly, and without much thought behind it, your fingers traced the shape of his lips. You didn’t realize you were smiling until you saw the same soft expression mirrored on his face. 

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” his voice was quiet, as if he spoke any louder the trance would be broken. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a while,” your smile grew when the hands around your waist squeezed you tighter. He pulled you closer and you got comfortable in his lap, your hands moving down to play with the fabric of his shirt. 

He didn’t seem to mind the subtle exploration, his own hands mimicking yours. Now that you finally had the chance, neither of you seemed able to stop touching each other. You weren’t sure where to go from here. 

You hadn’t realized how desperately you had wanted this, wanted him, until you had him. You didn’t want to ruin the moment by overthinking or complicating something simple. Still, is everything going to change now?

Did that kiss mean as much to him as it meant to you? 

What did this mean-

“Hey,” you startled slightly, jolted out of your thoughts by the heavy weight of Joel’s hand on your cheek. “I can see that brain going. I can practically hear the rust flaking off the gears in your head.”

You scoffed and smacked at his chest, “Shut up.” But he was right, it was far too easy for you to get lost in your own head. Especially concerning him. You were grateful for the way he could anchor you in the present, drag you back out of a trap of your own making. 

Joel stood, his arms wrapping around you and dragging you along with him. You could hear his bones popping, you wanted to protest, tell him to just let you walk, but you knew he wouldn’t listen. He had that determined look on his face, the one that meant he was ignoring how old and worn out his back and knees were. 

Besides, you liked how strong he was. Relished in these little displays of strength, even if it was something as simple as carrying you to bed. You knew you needed to talk, you needed some sort of verbal confirmation that this was more than just two lonely souls looking for company.

But Joel just dropped you on the mattress, grumbled about getting your stuff from the guest room, and left. You changed out of your clothes, brushed your teeth, and waited for him to come back. When he did, he had changed too, he dumped a pile of blankets on the bed and got in beside you. 

He laid down and wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging you into his side. You looked down at where he was holding you, lacing your fingers together, and let yourself fall asleep. You two didn’t say anything else, you just reveled in each other's warmth, let the comfort you provided lull you both into an easy sleep. And when you woke up in the morning, he had breakfast ready for you, but he didn’t say anything about the night before. 

In fact, for the next week, there was no mention of you two kissing or what his vague, half-confession meant. Sure, now he greeted you with a kiss each morning and night, but other than that nothing had changed about how you two operated. 

You didn’t have anything to appease Tommy with as he looked at you expectantly. No, nothing had majorly changed between you and Joel and you hadn’t had a real discussion about anything. But, you didn’t really need one, you knew what you meant to each other. And you knew how hard it is for people like you and Joel to have those discussions. 

Emotions, romance, love were all such distant concepts, it felt so foreign to you. If you tried to date, or speak into existence how much weight he held in your life you know inevitably it would just end up complicating and ruining things. 

You were together, alive and not some mindless fungi outside Jackson, the rest was inconsequential. 

You just said, “Cancel it, I’m going with Joel,” and walked off before you had to be subjected to more of his smug face. 

You made your way back through town, the morning rush having calmed down now that everyone had gotten their supplies or found their assignments for the week. You were thankful not to spot any nosy neighbors as you made your way back, that was the last thing you needed after having to deal with Tommy’s questions. 

Neither you or Joel were really big fans of talking about your emotions, hell you’d have punched someone out back in the QZ just for telling you to look for the light. Gooey stuff was practically a foreign language to you now. 

You could function based on actions; setting out his coffee in the morning or a new book appearing on your nightstand when he’d gotten back from patrolling. It was all you needed to understand what you were to each other.  

You trudged up the stairs to the porch, Joel was sitting in his favorite rocking chair, a mug resting on his knee. His supply was running low, you were gonna have to find someone to trade with again. You had been keeping an eye out on your patrols, trying to see if you could find any beans. 

You weren’t really sure how coffee plants worked, if you planted the beans whether they would even grow or not. But it was worth a shot. 

“How’d it go?”

You let out a long sigh and threw yourself down on the chair next to him. It creaked under your weight but held up against the strain of its old age. You rocked back and forth, plucking at a string on your jeans. “Fine.”

He snorted slightly as he took another sip of his coffee. “Looks like it. Oh, Jason and Anna stopped by.”

It was your turn to laugh, you smirked at him, propping your head in your hand. “You mean Ann and James?”

He rolled his eyes and nodded, “Yeah, them.”

“You’re losing it, old man.”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, they were concerned about your hearing. Said they must’ve called your name ten times and you didn’t hear them.” There was a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at you, like he knew it was complete bullshit. 

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Please.” You sat up and leaned forward, irritation forcing you upright, “If I have to listen to her complain about how tender her breasts are again, I’ll shoot myself.”

Joel grimaced, giving you a disgusted look as he put his mug down. “These people know what T-M-I is?” He put too much emphasis on each letter and you couldn’t help yourself as you laughed. It was always funny to hear him get an attitude with that gruff Texan accent, he ended up sounding like a poor attempt at valley girl. He swatted your knee, trying to get you to stop making fun of him. 

“Tommy, come on, what’d he say?”

You shrugged, looking down and away from him, going back to playing with the loose thread of your jeans. “I don’t know, he was asking all these questions.”

Joel was quick to ask, “What questions?”

You rested your head on the back of the rocking chair, “Why I didn't want to go on the date.”

“What’d you say?”

Jesus, he was barely taking a breath. “I said,” you paused and looked at him, not really surprised to already find him looking at you. His gaze wasn’t as intense as you were expecting, more eager? You weren’t sure Joel got eager. “I said I couldn’t go with what’s-his-face to the festival because of you.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, leaning back in his rocking chair, a strange sort of male pride clear on his face. “How come?”

You scoffed, glaring at him from where you sat. The hell was he getting at? “Why do you think, genius? Why would I go out with someone when I’ve got you?”

“You got me?”

You paused, irritation draining from your body as you stared at him. His face wasn’t giving anything away, he wasn’t closed off, just staring at you expectantly. “Don’t I?” You hated the way your voice went quiet, you wished it had been more confident, teasing, like you knew the answer and were screwing with him. You sounded too vulnerable. 

Joel let you squirm for a minute, you’re pretty sure he thought it was funny. Finally he sighed and leaned forward, his hand landing on your thigh and you could feel the warmth of it through your jeans. You hadn’t realized how cold you’d gotten until he was this close, walking furnace that he was. 

“Yeah, you do.”  You tried not to let the relief show, though you’re sure it did if his little smirk was anything to go by. He squeezed your thigh once before he stood up to go back inside. 

“Oh,” you suddenly remembered the last bit of your conversation with Tommy. “And I told him you were taking me to the harvest,” you called over your shoulder. It was your turn to screw with him, and if the way his shoulders tensed up as he paused in the doorway was anything to go by, he was just as excited as you about that ridiculous festival. 

“When’s your next patrol?”

Joel had found you an old mystery book on his last run, the same one you were reading now. You marked the page and put it down on the nightstand as he got into bed next to you. “Not sure, I think thursday. Why?”

He shrugged, leaning back against the pillows and gazing at you. “I was thinking I could go with you. We could go exploring that old art museum Maria told me was a couple miles out.” He reached out, tucking some hair behind your ear and you tried not to lean too much into him.

You smiled, almost accepting when you realized what he was doing and the smile dropped. You huffed out a breath and rolled your eyes. “Nice try, Joel, we’re going to the harvest festival.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, “Got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He shook his head, oh-so-innocent. You scoffed, “You’re so full of it. If I went with you, we’d miss the harvest festival. And who would have to listen to Tommy’s bitching? Me.”

“He’s my brother.”

“Then you deal with him!” You picked your book back up, deciding on ignoring him for the rest of the night. You should have known he would try and weasel his way out of this.

Honestly, once you’d decided you were going with Joel, the festival didn’t seem that awful or daunting. You’re a little hurt he wants to get out of it so badly. You weren’t that bad of company. 

“You ignorin’ me now?”

You shrugged, flipping through the book, not really absorbing anything. You’d have to reread this chapter tomorrow. 

A big hand found itself in front of your face, blocking you from reading anything more. Joel dog-eared the page, something you loudly protested to, and threw the book on his nightstand. “Joel, you know I hate when you do that.”

“Yeah, I know,” you rolled your eyes at his little smirk. “But you’re talkin’ to me.”

“Child. You’re a child.”

He leaned over you and shut your lamp off, ignoring your snippy still usin’ that. He settled down in bed and patted the spot next to him. You hesitated, only for a moment, debating whether you wanted to give him more of a hard time or just give in. 

It wasn’t a hard choice. 

You settled down beside him, your head falling on his chest and his arm naturally wound itself around your back. You tried to ignore the way your legs fit together, how you felt like a complete puzzle when you laid down beside him, the two of you fitting together perfectly. You tried even harder to ignore the way the thought made your heart race, but it was nearly impossible. 

Sometimes you resented Joel a little bit. Resented him for the way you lost control of yourself and your emotions when you were around him. Resented all the power he held over you and how unaware of it he seemed to be. 

“I really don’t want to go.”

You scoffed, your fingers tracing the design on the worn out t-shirt he was wearing. “You think I do?”

“Then let’s just skip it.”

“Joel, I already said-”

“We used to be able to just do whatever we wanted.” You paused as he interrupted you, closing your mouth and tilting your head up so you could look at him. “We went where we wanted, when we wanted. There weren't all these bullshit obligations like patrol, or making sure our shifts match up.”

You were silent, taking in what he was saying. It wasn’t hard to miss the resent lingering in his tone, or the way he spoke fondly of your past. Before you had responsibilities. But you must have been quiet for too long because he reached over and turned his lamp off, closing his eyes with a sigh. 

You stayed awake a while longer, just thinking about what he said. He was starting to sound like you, the same frustration and anger at being expected to provide for others. You were at everyone’s beck and call here. People viewed you as do-ers. Someone needed something done, you were the one to do it, and there was no arguing either, because everyone worked together here. 

The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue as you went to sleep.

“Come on, hurry up!”

Ellie was sitting on the couch, she ran the towel in her hand over her hair roughly. You stood behind the chair, scissors in your hand as Joel trudged down the stairs. You wrapped a towel around his shoulders to keep his wet hair from dripping on his shirt. 

Years ago, a time that feels nearly as distant as 2003, it was Tess who would cut yours and Joel’s hair. You’d sit down in the crappy apartment you had in the QZ and she’d use some blunted ass scissors to saw off your hair. 

Neither you nor Joel should have been trusted with any scissors, but when Tess was gone and you were on the road for too long Ellie and Joel would start bitching about their hair. Neither of them liked how it would touch their neck. 

Luckily while you were still learning there were no mirrors. They couldn’t see how horribly you had done. They would always run their hands through their hair and frown, like they knew something was wrong, but they just couldn’t prove it. 

The only thing you had to worry about for a while was just not busting out laughing every time you saw the bangs you accidentally gave them. 

Thankfully, by the time you reached Jackson you’d gotten good enough at it that they would still come and badger you for a haircut. They’d never had a chance to see just how horribly you had done in the beginning. 

“Oh, Jesse wanted me to ask you if you’d do his hair soon?”

You gave Ellie a noncommittal hum, running your fingers through Joel’s hair. “I like it long.”

“Cut it.” He didn’t exactly leave any room for arguments, he even crossed his arms, like you were actually going to pester him about it. You weren’t, but you were leaving some length, it’s not like he could cut it himself. 

He tilted his head slightly towards Ellie, “What’s Jesse want with her?”

You pushed his head back in place and started snipping. “What do you think he wants?” Ellie snorted, she got off the couch, probably already bored of sitting there. She went over to the mirror on the wall, running her hands through her hair and grinning. 

“Isn’t he with Dina?” You weren’t proud of it, but you might have picked up some information about people around town. Would you say gossiping? No. Would others? Probably. 

“Not anymore, they broke up a while ago.” Ellie turned around, hands on her hips as she stared at you. 

You momentarily paused in cutting Joel’s hair, ignoring his disgruntled complaint. “Am I missing something?”

Joel turned to face her as well, matching confused expressions on both your faces. “Yeah,” Ellie paused, like she was waiting for the two of you to connect the dots. You glanced down at Joel but he just shrugged. 

He tried, “I thought Jesse and Ellie were dating.” 

You rolled your eyes and shoved Joel’s head forward, going back to the haircut. 

“God! You guys, me and Dina are dating, we’ve been dating for like three months.”

”I thought you were friends,” Joel offered unhelpfully. 

“Clearly not,” Ellie sniped back. “You guys seriously didn’t know?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know what you kids get up to.” Ellie sighed and sat back down on the couch seemingly disheartened by your underwhelming reaction. “At least you can’t get her pregnant.”

Ellie sucked in a breath, “Right.”

Joel swatted your hands away from his hair, he better pray that doesn’t screw you up. “Ellie, what was that?”

“What?”

“That noise you just made.”

“Joel,” you interrupted, forcing his head back in place, “stop moving, dammit.”

“Dina’s pregnant,” Ellie rushed the sentence out in one, jumbled breath. 

You watched as Joel’s shoulders tensed and then slumped in front of you. “How’d you even get her pregnant?”

“What’re you doing?”

Joel closed the patrol log and shook his head, “Nothing, come on.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in suspicion as you watched him walk off. He had spent way too long by the log book for him to have just been writing - Couple runners, took ‘em out -J

You wanted to open it up and look but he was watching you from the entrance of the garage. You shoved aside your curiosity and followed him out to the horses. He grabbed the reins of his horse, “Come on, Sunny.” He shook his head and scoffed as he mounted her, “Still think their names are ridiculous.”

“Sunny and Cher,” you pet the black mane of your own mare and huffed out a laugh. “How’s Ellie even know who they are?”

“I don’t know, must’ve heard it from someone ‘cause she don’t even spell Sunny’s name right.”

“And she’s a girl.”

He laughed, “And she’s a girl.” 

He led you both outside into the sunny woods. Snow’s completely melted now, you weren’t sure how Maria and Tommy managed to time their ‘Harvest Festival’ so perfectly but it was a good time to celebrate the incoming warm weather. 

“So,” you nudged Cher forward to walk alongside him. “Where are we going?” Joel shrugged but didn’t provide you any answers. “Clearly not Jackson,” you were going the opposite direction of the town. 

You glanced at the back of Sunny, the bags he had tied to her saddle, each of them far too stuffed for a simple patrol. “You kidnapping me?”

“Maybe.”

You sighed, rolling your head back and taking in the greenery of the woods. You were definitely eager for winter to be over. Something about the cold weather makes the infected go fucking insane. They're faster, meaner, and just over all bigger pains in the ass. Not to mention the fact that they travel in huge fucking hordes. 

Tommy always tries to pretend he knows about them, something about the barometric pressure making them migrate but you know he’s just full of it. You watched a pair of hare’s dart in front of you and Joel and took in a deep breath. 

God, you’d forgotten how nice it was to be outside without the sound of people around you. There was the sound of the horses' hooves squishing lightly over wet grass, the wind moving the leaves above you, and the distant sound of birds singing. But no voices, or kids, or people demanding favors.

You’d missed this, with Joel specifically. It’d been a while since you had this type of quiet with him. So, you didn’t push him too much about where he was taking you, just followed him down the path. 

You were fine not bugging him while you were on a lovely jaunt through a pretty forest. But it’s been an hour and you can’t feel extremities that really need blood flow. “Joel,” you tried to remain friendly but your tone was strained as you shifted on your saddle for the nth time. 

“Yeah?” He grunted out. 

“How much longer?”

“Not much longer.” He turned around and frowned at you, “Have some patience.”

You tugged on Cher’s reins, forcing her to stop while you glared at Joel’s back. “Patience? Joel, we’ve been out here since six. I’ve had a lot of fucking patience. But that ran out about three miles ago, right when I stopped being able to feel my a-”

“We’re here.”

Of course you were. 

Joel got off Sunny and offered you a hand down. You took it eagerly, more than happy to finally stretch your legs out. You were a bit surprised when he kept your hands locked together, he wasn’t normally one for touchy shows of affection. 

Not that you were complaining, you were more than happy to revel in the comforting feeling of his hands in yours. Though, his were definitely rougher than your own, you weren’t without your own callouses, but he’d had years of carpentry and being a contractor under his belt before the apocalypse. 

He’d paused in a field, the grass here was up to your waist which made it difficult to see where you were stepping and what you were stepping on. You kept close to Joel, the horses trailing behind you both as he led you through the field. 

It took a moment for you to realize you’d never been out here. You’d only been vaguely paying attention to the direction you went while you were on the horses, trusting Joel to know the way. But this was definitely unrecognizable, which was strange, you thought you’d found everything when you went exploring on your own. 

Out in the distance you could see a vague shape forming, some brown structure that you couldn’t really make out as the grass was getting taller. It only took a few feet to finally figure out what was looming over you. 

A fence. 

Fun.

You said as much to Joel, probably in the most sarcastic tone you could muster. He rolled his eyes and kneeled down. You couldn’t help but admire his arms as he dug his fingers into a rotten plank of wood and pulled. He managed to make a hole large enough for you to crawl through and motioned towards it. 

“Well, go on, smartass.”

You huffed, getting down on your hands and knees and squeezing your way through. You didn’t bother seeing what was in front of you, turning around so you could keep the way through open for him. The wood dug into your palm, splinters burying themselves in your skin. 

God, this better be worth it. 

He groaned as he straightened up, pulling you to your feet and stretching his back out. “Alright. Ready?”

”Yep,” you rolled your eyes as he walked in front of you. What could have been so amazing he had dragged you out here?

A house. 

Well, it was a nice house, better taken care of than you’d seen out here. Looked like an old farmhouse, two stories, and a wraparound porch. Something you would have loved a long time ago. Surrounding it was a tall fence, it went out pretty far, there was room enough for a large garden and then some. There were bits where the wood had rotted or had holes in it that looked like someone had broken through. But the grass was trimmed, a normal height instead of tickling the ends of your hair. 

Overall, nice, but you had no clue what Joel was doing out here. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s nice.”

Joel scoffed, he crossed his arms and stared at you, “Just nice?”

You laughed and walked up the stairs of the porch. It was cleaner than you thought it would be, no signs of aging on the wooden boards. “It’s a nice house, Joel. I just don’t get why we’re here.”

He sighed and walked up to you, you took in a deep, centering, breath when he placed one hand on your waist. He moved you slightly out of the way as he leaned in, opening the door up behind you. “We’re here ‘cause this is ours,” admittedly your eyes were on his lips and your focus was how close he was to you. 

It took you a second to actually process what he had said. You blinked and your eyes shot back up to his, “What?”

He nudged you inside and you stumbled over your feet as you went. The interior was even nicer than the outside. There wasn’t a spec of dust or decay, it was like time hadn’t had a chance to touch it. There was a couch, bookshelves, even an old record player. 

“Joel, what the hell are you talking about?”

He sighed and threw his backpack down on the ground. He walked over and took yours off your shoulders, nudging you to take a seat on the couch. “Been working on this for months.” He smiled a little, the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes crinkling with the movement.

You were still a little confused, eyes darting around the living room as you sat there with a dumb look on your face. “Look, Jackson was nice for a while.”

You tuned in enough to grunt in opposition. Joel chuckled, “Alright, fine, it was never my favorite. I was out here one day, looking for you,” he added with a light nudge to your knee. “Found this place.”

“And… What? Decided to test out Jesus’s favorite pastime?”

“I was a contractor before the world went to shit. Like riding a bike, it just comes back to you.”

“I just don’t understand. Why? Why put in the time and effort and materials?”

He scoffed, “Why do you think?” When you didn’t answer he rolled his eyes. “We always talk about disappearin’ and I thought this would be a nice place to do it. There’s already a perimeter up, just have to make some more repairs. Worked something out with Tommy, it’s close enough to Jackson that we got some power from the dam,” he stood up now pacing around the living room a little as he talked to you. 

You slowly became aware of the stupid grin growing on your face. The warmth that was spreading through your cheeks and stomach as you realized he’d done this, fixed up this old house for months in secret for you. 

That explained why he’d been complaining about his back so much lately. 

You stood up, cutting him off from his tangent about how you were still close enough to Jackson for supplies and to see Tommy and Elllie. You fisted your hands in the flannel he was wearing and tugged him down. “Joel.”

He smiled at you as his hands landed on your waist, squeezing a little. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Have I ever told you I love you?”

He pulled you in and grinned, “Not once.”

This kiss felt different than all the rest. Felt like something more final, like you both knew you’d reached the end and there was nowhere left to go. You’d explored all you could, fought your way here, and now you stood in this old house. The one he had fixed up and you knew you didn’t need to fight anymore. 

You just needed this, him in this moment. 

“Ellie?”

Ellie turned around at the sound of Dina’s voice. “Yeah?”

She nodded her head towards the patrol logbook, there was a strange smile on her face. “Might want to take a look at this.”

Ellie walked over, shooting Dina a confused glance before she took a look and let out a laugh.

We aren’t gone, but we’re disappearing for a while. You won’t find us, don’t come looking (I mean it Tommy) - J

end. — I do not own the characters or the game The Last Of Us, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

TAGLIST: @chrysanthemum-00 @marimarvelfan

#Joel miller x reader #tlou x reader #game!joel x reader #joel miller #tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us

[justagalwhowrites]

Homecoming - DBF!Joel x Female Reader

It's been years since you moved away from home but you never stopped wishing your dad's best friend Joel Miller saw you as something more. Request from @reds-ramblings!

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: No Outbreak AU, legal age gap (Joel is 40 you are 26), SMUTTTTTTT oral (f receiving), p in v sex, one shot. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only!

Length: 4.4k (sorry guys, I got carried away)

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling of your childhood bedroom. It was still that popcorn shit. Your mom had redone most of the house since you’d moved out but your room was still intact. Still had the movie posters, the caricatures of you with your best friends from trips to Six Flags in the summer, the mountain of stuffed animals that were covered in a fine layer of dust in a hammock that hung from the ceiling. 

It was a little like being in a museum, relics of who you’d been a decade ago when you’d first moved into this house in the Austin suburbs with your parents. You hadn’t known how to drive yet when you moved in here. You were a different person now. A different person who lived in Chicago and had a job you loved and still came running home to your childhood bedroom when shit got hard. 

You sighed, bouncing a tennis ball off the popcorn ceiling. 

“Fuck it,” you muttered, getting up and rifling through your suitcase. 

Your parents weren’t home. They wouldn’t be for a few more days - too busy lying on a beach in Maui - so you had the place to yourself. At least there was the pool. 

You found the sluttiest bikini you had since you’d be too embarrassed to wear it around your parents anyway but dammit you’d bought the stupid thing so you were going to wear it. You slid into it, admiring yourself in the mirror for a second. This would have looked way better on a beach in the Caribbean. This was a swim suit meant to make a man fuck you in the ocean. It was not a swim suit meant to be worn in your parents’ pool. But you needed something to feel good about. 

You put your earbuds in and pulled up your favorite playlist, dancing a little as you put on the gauzy white coverup, straw hat and flip flops before heading downstairs. 

It was almost like the shuffle mode on your playlist was reading your mind. Lizzo came on just as you made it to the kitchen and you turned it up as loud as you couldn’t without fully deafening yourself. 

“Why men great ’til they gotta be great?” You more yelled it than sang it, grabbing the tortilla chips and salsa you’d picked up on your way to the house the day before. You went into the freezer next, grabbing the frozen margarita pouch. 

“You coulda had a bad bitch, noncommittal,” you nudged the drawer closed with your leg. “Help you…HOLY SHIT.” 

You almost leapt out of your skin, dropping the plastic container of salsa and the bag of margarita to the tile floor. You clutched your heart that felt like it was threatening to burst out of your chest with one hand and tore your earbuds out with the other. 

Joel Miller was leaning against the counter, watching you and smiling, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Jesus Christ, Joel!” You panted, dropping the earbuds to the counter before leaning against it to keep from falling over. “What the fuck, man?” 

“Don’t stop on my account,” he smiled a little wider. “You were puttin’ on a great show…” 

“Ha ha,” you glared at him. 

“No, really, stadium quality performance there, Princess,” he said. “I’d buy tickets…” 

You rolled your eyes before bending over and picking up the mercifully still intact containers of salsa and frozen margarita, trying to not think about the fact that you were in the sluttiest bikini you’d ever owned in front of Joel fucking Miller. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend. Joel Miller, guy who lived across the street. Joel Miller, man you’d basically been in love with since you were 16 years old. 

How was it that he’d gotten better looking? There should be limits on this shit, men who were as gorgeous as Joel Miller shouldn’t be allowed to get hotter as they aged. His graying hair made him look experienced, wiser somehow. The wrinkles around his eyes made his already gorgeous chocolate brown gaze look softer and sweeter. It was a dangerous combination. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, heart rate returning to normal. Or, normal for when Joel was in your immediate vicinity, anyway. 

“Your dad told me I could borrow a ladder,” he shrugged. “Said it was in the shed out back. Told me to let myself in. DIdn’t mention you’d be here. Promise I wasn’t trying to scare you.” 

“What kind of contractor doesn’t have a ladder?” You frowned. “Sounds like you’re falling down on the job, Miller.” 

“I don’t have it at my house because I left it on a job, Princess,” he stepped closer, smile shifting to more of a cocky smirk. “But needed one at home and didn’t really feel like drivin’ clear across Austin to pick it up. 

“But that’s beside the point, what are you doing here?” He asked. “Ain’t you some big time city girl now?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Just decided to come home for a visit,” you replied. 

“While your parents are on vacation,” he said, skeptical. You narrowed your eyes at him. “C’mon, what’s goin’ on.” 

You sighed and groaned a little. 

“I was supposed to be in The Bahamas this week,” you said. “Booked it a few months back.” 

“So why aren’t you in The Bahamas this week?” He asked after you were silent for a minute. You rapped your fingers on the counter, nails clacking on the granite. 

“I got dumped, alright?” You groaned. “It was supposed to be a trip with my now ex for our one year anniversary but we broke up a month ago and now he’s in The Bahamas with Laurel from accounting.” 

“Shit,” Joel’s face fell a little. “I’m sorry that…” 

“It’s fine,” you sighed. “I wasn’t really that into him, honestly. I was surprised we lasted as long as we did. But I wasn’t about to sit in Chicago in April when I’d already bought enough bikinis to last a week on the beach. And hey at least there’s a fucking pool and it’s above freezing here.” 

When you mentioned the bikinis, his eyes finally left your face, quickly trailing up and down your body before looking back at your face. 

“He’s a fuckin’ idiot, Princess,” he said. “Promise there are better ones out there than that and lord knows you deserve better.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled a little. “Anyway, you’re here for a ladder, not to keep me company.” 

“Depends,” he nodded at the margarita pouch. “Got another one of those?” 

You scoffed. 

“C’mon,” you went into the freezer and grabbed another pouch. “The hell do you take me for?” 

You poured the drinks into the plastic margarita glasses your mom had bought for a party when you were a teenager and handed one to Joel before you both went outside. Joel sat on a lounge chair but you set your glass down on the edge of the pool, stepped out of your flip flops and draped your coverup on a chair next to him. 

“You’re getting in?” He asked. “Thought that was more of a… layin’ around swim suit thing you girls like to wear.” 

“Didn’t fly across the country to not get the suit wet,” you glanced over your shoulder at him. His eyes immediately rose from your ass to your face as you did. “You’re welcome to join me.” 

You jumped in the water, sinking down to the bottom, water so cold that it made your nipples harden and press against the thin fabric of the suit. You swam back to the surface and to the edge of the pool, grabbing your margarita. Joel was watching you. 

“You coming in or not?” You teased. 

“Don’t think I feel like goin’ and getting changed,” he said. 

“Never said you had to,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “Come on. You saw me dancing around my parents kitchen and heard my sob story. I think I can see you in your underwear.” 

He looked away from you for a moment, a twitch in his jaw, before he shook his head for a moment. 

“Alright, Princess,” he stood up and pulled off his shirt in one fluid movement. You were trying not to stare. It’s not like you’d never seen him without a shirt before. He’d been swimming at your house with your parents before. He took his shirt off when mowing the lawn and you’d peer through your window and watch him when you were a teenager. But this was the first time he’d taken his shirt off because you wanted him to and that fact almost made his biceps seem more sculpted, his chest more beautiful. His hands went to his jeans as he stepped out of his boots. He unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, starting to pull the denim down. “Your wish, my command.” 

“That is how I like it,” you took another drink. 

He stripped out of his jeans and down to his black boxer briefs. You resisted the urge to lick your lips at the sight of him, just a thin layer of fabric covering his thick, long cock. 

You shook yourself mentally. Yes, you’d had a crush on Joel for 10 years. Yes, you wanted him to fuck you six ways from Sunday. Yes, it looked like his cock would be far and away the largest you’d ever had. But he was your dad’s best friend and 14 years older than you. His daughter was closer to your age than he was. Nothing was going to happen. 

He jumped in the water, purposely landing close enough to you to splash you with it and you laughed, wiping the chlorinated water from your eyes. 

“Fuck that’s cold,” he said when he came up. “Feelin’ like you got me in here under false pretenses…” 

You swam for a bit, catching up on life, drinking your margaritas. Joel told you about Sarah, how she was doing at A&M and about one client he’d been stuck with who kept changing shit half way through the project. 

“Swear to God the next time this woman changes her tile, I’m driving off a fuckin’ bridge,” he said. 

You told him about your life in Chicago. The promotion you’d just gotten at work, the fact that you’d become enough of a regular at the bar down the street from your apartment that the bartenders knew you now. 

You’d been in the water long enough that your drinks were long empty and your fingertips were starting to prune, leaning against the edge of the pool with your arms propped on the ledge, close enough that your elbows touched. 

Joel’s eyes ran over you, from your hairline to your face to your throat to your chest. Your nipples were still peaked against your suit and your wet hair clung to your neck. 

“What?” You asked, smiling a little. 

“Any plans later?” He asked. “Can’t have you sittin’ at home all by your lonesome when you were supposed to be havin’ a good time this week.” 

“Offering to show me a good time?” You teased. 

“Don’t tell your dad that,” he teased back. “But I’m going out with some of Tommy’s friends later. Think you’d have fun if you wanted to come along. Just some drinking, music, dancing. Usual shit. Assuming you don’t have plans with any old friends from school or somethin’.” 

“Ah yes, my vibrant social life in high school,” you said, smirking a little. 

You’d been a wallflower before you went to college. You hadn’t fit in well with your classmates, you hadn’t really grown into your body yet - all awkward limbs and unruly hair. College had been your chance to reinvent yourself and you’d leaned into it. You still remembered the first time you came home on break from school your freshman year. 

You and your roommate, Carolyn, had become fast friends and she was easily the most fashionable person you’d ever met. She’d helped you come into your own in your first semester away and you’d basically replaced every item of clothing in your closet with finds from every thrift store within a 20 mile radius of Northwestern. You’d changed your hair, figured out that blue eyeshadow was NOT your thing and just started feeling more confident. 

That Christmas break, you had just grabbed a package off the porch for your mom and were carrying it around to the garage to stash where your dad wouldn’t find it when Joel stopped you. 

“Hey,” he said, sounding a bit defensive as he jogged over to you. “That yours?” 

You stopped, frowning, before turning to face him. His eyes went wide. 

“I mean, it’s my mom’s…” 

“Shit, I’m sorry Princess,” he said, looking you up and down. “Didn’t even recognize you! Must be liking Chicago…” 

You definitely liked your new sense of style even more after that. 

“I’d be down to go out,” you said. “Better than playing catch against my ceiling all night.”

“Pick you up in two hours?” He said. “We’ll hit the town.” 

Once Joel left with the ladder, you focused on calming yourself down while getting ready to go. 

Yes, it was Joel. Yes, he might have checked you out a bit in the pool. Yes, you’d do more than you were really comfortable admitting to get him into bed. But he was still Joel, your neighbor and your dad’s best friend. That made him pretty much off limits. 

Right? 

You’d brought a few of the dresses you’d bought for The Bahamas and you slipped into the one that hugged your curves in just the right way. Just in case. 

“Shit, Princess,” Joel said when you answered the door. “Think you might be a bit overdressed for this crowd.” 

“I can change,” you frowned. 

“No!” He said quickly. Then cleared his throat. “No, don’t… Don’t worry about it.”

Joel drove you to a bar with live music and a table full of people he seemed to know about half of. Tommy, his brother, clapped him on the back and whispered something in his ear that made Joel glare at him. 

He’d been right, though, it was fun. You stuck close to Joel at first, bodies near enough that your arm would brush his chest if you picked up your beer. But then one of Tommy’s friends asked you to dance and pulled you onto the dance floor. His name was Jim and you were pretty sure he was closer to Joel’s age than Tommy’s. His hands slid down your body, pulling your hips against his as you moved with him. Joel’s eyes were on you the whole time. 

You only danced with Jim for a song and a half before Joel appeared over his shoulder. 

“Mind if I cut in?” He asked, giving Jim a look that made it seem like he didn’t have a lot of other options. Jim stepped back just as the music started to shift to something a bit slower. Joel took one of your hands in his and slipped the other around to your back, his fingers splayed wide against you, pulling you against him. 

“DIdn’t take you for the dancing type,” you smiled a little as you started to sway. 

“M’not,” he said. “Not usually, anyway.” 

“Really?” You teased. “So I’m a special case, hm?” 

“Somethin’ like that,” he said. “Can’t let my best friend’s little girl go runnin’ around with some old man.” 

“But what if I like old men?” You asked. 

“Should pick a better one than Jim then,” he replied. 

“Never said I liked Jim,” you said. “Not my type.” 

“What is your type?” He asked, his eyes drifting over your face to your neck to your breasts. 

You swallowed, hard. 

“Contractors.”

He ground his teeth for a moment before stepping back from you and leaving the bar. 

“Shit,” you muttered, trailing behind him to the parking lot. 

“Joel!” You called out to him. “Wait!” 

He stopped and turned to face you. 

“You don’t know what you’re sayin’ in there,” he said. “So just give me some space, OK?” 

“I know perfectly well what I was saying,” you said. 

“No,” he shook his head. “You don’t. You shouldn’t go around sayin’ shit like that…” 

“Oh, so you wanted me to lie then?” You asked.

“Princess,” there was a warning in his voice. “You don’t want to go here.” 

“Yes, I do,” you said. “It’s not like I’m some little kid, Joel, I’m 26 years old…” 

“That’s too damn young,” he snapped. 

“It’s not like I don’t know what I want,” you replied. 

“You’re my best friend’s daughter,” he said. 

“So?” 

“Get in the truck,” he growled. You frowned. “Want to talk about this like adults? Get in the damn truck.” 

You hesitated for a moment before you obeyed. 

“You don’t know what you’re sayin’,” he said again after he’d been driving for a few minutes. 

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” You asked, offended now. “That I just say shit I don’t mean with no understanding of the consequences?” 

“No, I think you’re young,” he snapped. “Too young to be even joking about getting involved with someone closer to your dad’s age than yours.” 

“Wasn’t joking,” you said defiantly. He glanced over at you before looking back to the road. 

“Princess,” he said, the warning tone back in his voice. 

“Joel.” 

He glared at you. 

“We’re not doin’ anything,” he said. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. 

You stared out the window, the ache between your thighs warring with the hurt in your chest. 

He dropped you at your door and you practically jumped out of the truck, not saying a word. He sighed and followed you, catching you as you were trying to unlock the door without crying.  It was hard not feeling stung by it. Yes, he was your dad’s best friend. Yes, he probably had better options. Yes, there were plenty of reasons why you shouldn’t fuck or anything more. But this rejection hurt somehow more than your ex dumping you for fucking Laurel in accounting. 

“Princess,” he said quietly. 

“Look it’s fine if you’re not interested,” you said, sniffing a little. “But don’t act like you’re doing it for my benefit. It’s shitty.” 

“Not…” he touched your shoulder, making you turn around. “You really think I’m not fuckin’ interested?” 

You shrugged. 

“How the fuck would I not be interested?” He asked. “Jesus Christ, spent half the goddamn afternoon thinkin’ about baseball stats so I wouldn’t get a hard on in your fuckin’ pool. All I am is interested.” 

“Interested in what?” 

“Interested in fucking you until you can’t see straight,” he said. “Interested in makin’ you cum so much the only thing you remember is my goddamn name. Interested in eating your pussy til I drown in ya. Interested in your dad punching me in the fuckin’ face over you because I’m too old for you but I don’t give a shit, bein’ with you is worth it. I’m interested.” 

He stepped closer to you, your back against the door. 

“You should come inside then,” you breathed. 

He kissed you then, pressing his body against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You could feel him through his jeans, thicker and longer than what you saw in the pool before. You fumbled with the door until it opened, both of you spilling into your parents’ entryway. 

You didn’t make it past the living room. 

Joel slid the straps of your dress down your arms and you pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor. You backed up until you were against the arm of the couch, his hands ranging over your skin. He pushed the dress lower until it was over your hips and it fell to the floor. You were just in your panties and your shoes when he nudged you down onto the arm of the couch. 

He kissed down your body, over the swell of your breasts and down your stomach until he reached the top of your panties. He guided your hips off the arm of the couch for a moment and slid your underwear down and cast them aside before kneeling in front of you and spreading your legs. 

“Fucking hell you’ve got a pretty pussy,” he reached out and ran his thumb over your slit, pressing down a little when he reached your clit, making your back arch as you moaned. “Can’t wait to taste you, Princess.” 

He ran his tongue over you, delicately pressing the tip into your folds. One of his hands slid up your body to your chest, gently pushing you back until you were lying on the couch as his mouth worked your slit. 

“Fuckin’ perfect view,” he said before thrusting his tongue into you. You groaned, rocking your hips against his face, his nose pressing into your clit as you did. You could see his eyes devouring the rest of you the way his mouth was devouring your pussy, like there was no part of him that could get enough of you. 

His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading you open wider so his tongue could get deeper, your core tightening around him. Just as you were getting close, he slid his tongue from you, making you whimper as he kissed up your slit to your clit. He took the delicate nub into his mouth, licking and sucking as he thrust two fingers into your dripping pussy, making you gasp and your hips stutter. 

“Good girl,” he pulled his mouth away from you just enough to praise you. His fingers pressed deep, hooking into you and finding the spot inside you that made you gasp. “Want you to cum for me baby, don’t be shy now.” 

He went back to sucking, his tongue unrelenting, his eyes drinking you in. Your hand flew to the cushions of the couch and you gasped as you came, moaning his name. 

His mouth stayed on you until your body stopped pulsing, his fingers gently working you through your orgasm. He almost reluctantly pulled himself from you and licked his lips as he stood, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, stripping off the last of his clothes as you came down from your orgasm. He reached out and took your hand, pulling you back upright on the arm of the couch. 

Joel kissed you again and you could taste yourself on his tongue. He guided your legs around his waist and slid his hands below your thighs, picking you up and making you gasp. 

He didn’t take you far, only to the couch. He sat down, making you kneel on his lap as he reached between your legs and started stroking himself, close enough to you that his knuckles brushed your overwrought slit as he did. You looked down between you, the first chance you really had to see his cock. 

Your eyes went a little wide at the sight of it. He was so thick and long with a slight curve, you were almost afraid he wouldn’t fit. 

“Take it at your own pace, Baby,” he said, all but reading your mind. “M’not in a rush.” 

He adjusted his cock a bit, making it so the edge of him rubbed your clit as he worked himself. The contact made you needy, a sharp ache growing in you, a feeling deep inside that you knew you couldn’t reach but he could. 

You rose up on your knees, your hands on his shoulders, and he rubbed his thick head against your slit, your wetness spilling over him as he worked it lower down his shaft, coating himself in you. 

“So fucking wet for me,” he groaned, lining his head up with your entrance. 

“All for you,” you breathed, lowering yourself onto him. 

You moaned at the intrusion as you pressed him into you, a spark of pain with the pleasure as he stretched you. 

“Fuck Baby,” he groaned, his hands going to your hips, guiding you down over him as you sank lower onto him. “Fuck, so tight, so goddamn…” 

You couldn’t help but smile a little, watching him start to lose himself in your body, his head falling back, eyes closing, fingertips sinking into your flesh. Your body opened for him, his cock parting your inner walls and stretching you. You groaned when you finally took all of him, his head pressed flush against your back wall as his hips ground against your own. 

“Good girl,” he gasped it out, his hands traveling up from your hips to your waist. “Knew you could take it all…” 

You started working over him, rising and falling on his cock, working your hips down against your own. His hands slipped up your back as he looked up at you, kissing your neck, your chest, trailing his tongue along the swell of your breasts. 

Joel pressed you close to him before he thrust deep into you and shifted, laying you down below him on the couch and sinking somehow deeper into you, making you moan. 

He started fucking into you harder and faster then, angling your hips so your clit was pressed against him with every stroke. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you groaned, pressing yourself against him, wanting to feel him everywhere you could. “Harder… need more…” 

He groaned. 

“Fucking perfect,” he buried his face in your neck as he started working you harder, faster. “You’re goddamn perfect…” 

It wasn’t long before you were cumming around him, your pussy gripping him so tight it almost hurt to hold him that way. He fucked you through your orgasm, his breathing faster, his kiss sloppy. 

The second your walls stopped fluttering around him, he pulled out of you. He sat back and fisted his cock. 

“Where?” He said quickly. 

“My clit,” you panted. 

“Fucking hell,” he moaned, jerking his cock just twice before pressing the tip against your swollen nub and spilling his warmth over you, making your ultra sensitive pussy shudder again. He collapsed on top of you, his face buried in your neck as you both caught your breath. 

“Please say you’ll visit more,” he said, not moving from on top of you. 

“Think I’ll be visiting a lot more.” 

A/N: So this was my first request and my first one shot! I am NOT good at keeping things brief lol so I appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you for reading! Love ya!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #oneshot

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 6: Nubbins Sawyer x Reader (Or the hitchhiker for all you TCM players) (Apple Cider)

Day 6 is here! and the first week is coming to a close for Fictober. I hope you've all been enjoying this event so far and thank you for all the support for my first tumblr fic event! <3

Notes: Minors Dni, No use of pronouns, No smut in Fictober (yet wink wink). Gender Neutral reader with nothing described in detail.

"Nubbins boy goddamn you!" Drayton's yell echoed through the house, you winced and buried yourself further into the blankets on the bed you shared with the middle sawyer brother. He had sent you up hear when Drayton and Bubba had returned home so you wouldn't be subjected to the venom that was about to spew from Drayton's mouth.

A hitchhiker pick up, something that Nubbins had been doing for years even before you came into the picture, had went completely wrong. The group of 3 college kids were much smarter then they looked and it ended with Nubbins nearly getting shot had Drayton not noticed how late the two of you were and sent Bubba out to check.

By the time Bubba reached you guys the man driving was angrily waving his weapon at you and Nubbins and yelling about what freaks the two of you were. The man had almost turned the gun on Bubba when Nubbins took him out.

The other two kids ran into the neighboring field but Drayton was already on his way to go chase them down with Bubba while you and Nubbins were sent an angry glare and told to get on home.

Nubbins sent you and apologetic glance before the two of you began to walk.

"D-do you think H-He's gonna be mad?" Nubbins asked you after a minute, You grimaced but answered truthfully.

"I'd reckon Drayton's already mad nubs"

Truthfully the two of you had fucked up big time, You couldn't imagine what would've happened if that guy had shot Nubbins. Drayton however had a way with words and could be particularly nasty when it came to his chili "Ingredients" being messed with, never mind his little brother almost dying to get them for him.

"What the hell were you thinkin'? You coulda died! Not to mention what would've happened had those kids got away and got help" You didn't like how Drayton would dress Nubbins down but if you wanted to keep your place in the family you'd stay out of the eldest Sawyer brothers way. Plus god forbid you did and Drayton said something particularly out of line to you it would cause an even bigger issue with Nubbins.

Nubbins must've made the smart choice to stay quiet and let Drayton's verbal lashings wash over him. One of the unspoken rules of the sawyer household was that you didn't argue with Drayton. Not that anything bad would happen per say but the eldest Sawyer could be so stubborn and set in his ways.

You hadn't noticed Nubbins enter your shared room till you heard the door close behind him. You sat up in bed against the headboard and looked at your boyfriend, your heart broke when you made eye contact.

Sadness etched across his face, the worst part was no matter how mean Drayton got Nubbins hated disappointing his older brother, he would never admit it out loud but he looked up to Drayton and one day hoped he would be the head of the family and match his brother is being able to take care of them. Even though that title would most likely fall to his only a few minutes older twin brother Bobby if he ever returned from Vietnam that was.

"Nubs" You said softly holding out your arms for any comfort you could offer him. He fell into your arms as soon as they opened and buried his face into your chest. You pulled the blanket around the two of you and you rubbed a hand down his back and felt him slightly untense himself.

"D-Drayton c-c-can be so mean sometimes!" He choked out trying to hold himself together, you smoothed his hair out of his face and nodded.

"I know he can baby" Nubbins then pulled a face you hadn't really seen before, it was as if he was fighting some internal battle at that moment so you decided to poke a little.

"You wanna be mad at him, but he's your brother and you love him? is that what it is?" You asked softly, He pondered a moment before nodding.

"Y-yeah, But h-he's so stubborn sometimes! I-i wish he was nicer" You nodded in agreement.

"I understand that nubs, and even though I do think Dray could be nicer you have to understand ever since Bobby got drafted his life hasn't been the best either"

Everyone in the Sawyer household took a hit when Robert had gotten drafted, especially Nubbins. With his twin brother he had never been separated from across the world fighting in a war Nubbins didn't have a clue what to do with himself.

He tried to throw himself into small projects and hitchhiking to bring in people, but you could still tell something was off.

"B-but w-we all m-miss Bobby" Nubbins said "N-not just him" You decided to use this to try and get some peace restored.

"What would Bobby say if he knew the two of you were at each others throats?" You felt Nubbins slightly tense at this.

"Bobby would be so disappointed if he knew you guys were fighting nearly every day since he left. I'm not asking every day to be perfect but I want you to try and get along with Drayton, If not for me do it for Bobby" You concluded, using your hand to bring him to make eye contact with you.

Nubbins smiled a bit before nodding eagerly.

"D-do it for Bobby" He said with a victorious smile before pressing his lips to yours.

As long as the Sawyer men were able to survive each other till Bobby returned, Then you'd consider it a win.

#slasher x reader #slasher fandom #Fictober #nubbins sawyer #nubbins sawyer x reader #drayton sawyer #bubba sawyer #chop top sawyer #the texas chainsaw massacre 2 #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre 2 #the texas chainsaw massacre #Halloween

[camarocarfight]

There's A Demon In My Radio Chapter One An Alastor x Reader slow burn fic featuring human Angel Dust (Anthony), Vox, and many more. Buckle up, and grab the tissues. Rated MATURE for sexual themes, violence, and drug and alcohol use.

There's A Demon In My Radio

New Orleans, 1947

There had been a cabin in the bayou that you dreamed about living in all your childhood. Your family would drive past it on your way to your father's sugarcane fields, and your gaze would be fixated on the log structure. The cabin wasn't much to look at, being a quaint hunting shack and all, but your father said that it had been refurbished after the previous owner had died. It sat empty for years, and was listed on the market for just as long. Talk of the town was that the serial murderer from the 1930s cut up and ate his victims there, but that seemed far-fetched to you. 

Regardless of the rumors and your father's distaste for the idea, you bought the cabin after graduating from nursing school. Not at all put off by the fact that a serial killer had taken up residence there nearly two decades ago. All you cared about was that he was dead, having been shot by a hunter who mistook him for a deer. Truthfully, an unfortunate way to go, but was he deserving of any other?

Anthony, your closest friend, was meeting you at the hospital after work to help you move in. The two of you had been close since middle school, after Anthony had warded off some unwanted advancements against you by Vox. Since then, you had each other's backs, and agreed to a mutually beneficial relationship. Your first time meeting Anthony, you knew he was different. Different in the kind of way that society didn't accept and could very well get him killed if he wasn't careful. After the Vox incident, you and Anthony agreed to ‘courting’. It was the only solution you knew of to keep Vox off your back, and it would keep Anthony safe from any accusations.

For years your plan had worked, but as of late, the pressure was mounting on you to keep Anthony safe. Everyday, it seemed Anythony found himself in some sort of trouble with drugs or with selling himself for money. He would come to you at odd hours of the night either high or sporting the cuts and bruises of his latest scrape.

So it really didn't surprise you when you found Anthony sitting outside the hospital on a bench. Dressed to the nines in a charcoal gray three piece suit with a matching fedora and sporting a black eye. You bound towards the young man, shaking your head in disappointment. Anthony simply grinned, finding your motherly instincts comical.

“Honestly, you need a babysitter,” you took him by the chin and moved his head from side to side, examining the bruise. 

“Nice t’ see you too, Doll,” Anthony took your hand from his face as he stood from the bench. He easily towered over you, being 6’3 and all legs. “Coulda been worse. It was only Val dishing out the punishment.” 

“You shouldn't have to be punished,” you grumbled and took Anthony's arm and the two of you began your walk to the cabin.

“Jus’ forget it, and let's have a nice weekend puttin’ your murder shack together.”

The two of you walked in relative silence, arm-in-arm. From the hospital to the cabin was a thirty minute walk. The landscape changed drastically along the way. Going from the bustle of the city and the stately homes, to plantations that eventually tapered off into the forests that surrounded the bayou. It would no doubt be an interesting walk coming back from the hospital during those Late nights. Your father had offered to buy you an automobile, but you felt they weren't safe. Not that walking such a distance was much safer. 

“I don't know, toots,” Anthony glanced down and eyed you wearily through his blackened eye. “Quite the walk for a gal by her lonesome.”

You scoffed and pulled your arm free from Anthony and rummaged through your purse to find the keys to the cabin. 

“Have you and my father been talking?”

“You know he don't like me,” Anthony murmured and thrust his hands into the pockets of his slacks. 

The man stopped before the cabin and regarded the log structure with an unamused expression. Refurbished or not, it still wasn't much to look at. The windows in the front were caked with dust, and moss and vines had slithered their way up the siding and onto the shingles of the roof.

“What was it about this place anyhow?”

“I don't know,” you shrugged and walked up to the door. As you slid the key into the keyhole, a smile slid across your lips. “There's this je ne sais quoi I couldn't ignore.”

The lock mechanism clicked, disengaging the lock, and the door slowly creaked with the hinges squealing in protest. Light filtered into the vast space of the cabin's main room, illuminating the dust that floated and filled the musty air. The old furniture had long since been removed after the passing of the previous occupant, leaving only an old radio sitting in the corner of the room next to a stone fireplace.

Behind you Anthony whistled. “Smells wonderful,” he stepped past you and into the living space. Under his oxfords the old wooden floors creaked. “Like rotten meat.”

“Anthony, quit.”

“Maybe the killer's bodies are still buried here,” he laughed, but the look on your face had his smile fading. “Awe, c'mon, toots.”

“I really want to make this place home, Anthony. Regardless of what happened or not.”

“And we will,” Anthony put his arm around your shoulders and regarded the space. “‘Least it came with a radio.”

You hummed and walked up to the floor model radio sitting dorment in the corner. The once mahogany stained wood was tarnished and chipped, with years of dust covering its surface that was so thick that it didn't even leave a trail when you swiped your finger across the surface. There was a tiny frequency window that was yellowed and cracked and two knobs that barely turned. 

“It be neat if this still worked,” you reached down and picked up the power cord. The outer sheath was dry rotted and nearly falling apart in your hand. 

“Yeah,” Anthony shook his head. “I wouldn't, unless I want to burn the place down.”

“If the cord is in this condition, then the capacitors are probably dried out too,” the cord fell from your hand and clattered against the wooden floor. “I wonder if this was his radio.”

Anthony quirked a brow and folded his arms over his chest with his right hip cocked. “Are y’ keeping it? No use keeping someone else's junk. Especially since it doesnt work.”

“No, I'm keeping it,” the look of confusion on Anthony's face made you smirk. “It's a nice decoration.” 

“Whatever you say, toots.”

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #angel dust #human angel dust #angel dust and reader #reader insert #vox x reader #valentino

[piedpiperart]

Phantom in Gotham 3

Chapter 2

"Anyone see the ghost tonight?" Tim asked when they'd gathered around the bat computer after patrol. Out of all of them, Tim had been most focused on the mystery surrounding the ghost kid. He'd found a little bit about the extent of Casper’s powers, that he was young, alone, and was in danger but couldn't or didn’t want to ask for help from the bats. Nightwing also mentioned the ghost's favorite color was blue, but Tim thought he might be making that part up.

"He was with me for a while,"Dick said, climbing onto another chair with a cup of cocoa in his hands. Where he’d gotten it, Tim had no idea. "But he disappeared after I met with Jason."

"You think maybe he followed Jason?" Tim asked, sitting up straighter. "He just got back from some sort of mission, right? A ghost and a zombie hanging out doesn’t sound like a good idea."

"Yeah, and thanks for telling me you guys have been haunted for the past month,"Red Hood piped up. Everyone in the room turned to look at him as he stepped off his bike, signature helmet in hand. Jason ignored Dick's excited greeting and the Bat's hard stare. "You coulda’ told me he was just a kid. I almost shot the poor guy. Not that it woulda hit him,"Jason added under his breath.

The room was silent, and Jason made a face. "What?"

"You saw him?" Dick asked incredulously.

"Like, actually saw him? The ghost?" Tim added, fingers twitching to type on the computer.

"Yeah, goes by Phantom by the way," Jason said, commandeering a chair. "He's about Timmy's age, bit smaller. Short white hair, black jumpsuit, pointy ears, pale skin, and glowing green eyes. Cute little fangs too."

"Green eyes?" Batman grunted, the whole room once again tense at the implications.

"Yeah yeah, I'm getting to it,"Jason sighed, plopping down into the comfy chair. Without the green haze he didn't feel like starting an argument. If anything, he could really go for a nap. He dragged his hand over his face exasperatedly before continuing. "Anyway, after almost shooting him, Glowstick tells me that I'm contaminated with ectoplasm, or in our case, Lazarus water. "

"Ectoplasm?" Tim repeated, turning to the computer to start on a hunt for info about it. Jason nodded.

"It's what ghosts call it. Says his kind of ghosts are from a different realm connected to ours, where some portals open and let ghosts or ectoplasm through sometimes. Think that's how the pits were made,"Jason said, leaving out the part about Phantom telling the other ghosts about the pits. He hoped maybe the kid or his king might be able to do something about them so he wouldn't have to think about them ever again.

"How do you know he was not lying to you?' Demon Spawn scoffed, and Jason only rolled his eyes.

"If you'd let me finish,"Jason drawled. "He explained a lot of this stuff because he thought I was like him."

"He thought you were a ghost?" Dick frowned.

"Sort of. He said there's different types. A ghost is reliant only on ectoplasm, but there’s also Halfas, who are part human but have more ghost parts so they also need ectoplasm to function. And then me, who didn't have any ghost parts but still had ectoplasm,"Jason explained, feeling like he should have gone home for a nap before this whole conversation."Phantom said I was contaminated with it, and offered to get rid of it."

"He what?" Dick exclaimed, the room erupting in similar arguments.

"Did you let him?" Tim asked, and Jason let out a groan. He just wanted a nap.

Batman shot Jason a look, opening his mouth to no doubt say something about the dangers of ghost children lurking in alleys when Jason interrupted. 

"Shut up,"Jason snapped, and everyone quieted. 

"I did let him."Jason added, glaring at the others so they didn't interrupt him. "We talked. He didn’t even touch me. It worked, and he sort of just, pulled all the ectoplasm out of me." Jason explained, dropping his arms to his sides after waving them in a way the ghost kid was. 

"What did he do with it?" Bruce questioned, and Jason just reached into his bag to pull out his newly acquired paperweight. He tossed the sphere to Bruce, who reluctantly caught it.

"He froze it with ‘Ghost Ice’. Said it won't ever melt and I'll have a nice paperweight forever. He did apologize for not being able to make it into a cool statue though, so that’s fun,"Jason stated blankly. Batman observed the green and blue swirly ball before passing it to Tim, who was making grabby hands at it. "Not sure about his other powers, but he could manipulate ectoplasm, fly, freeze stuff, and go invisible and intangible. He also had a symbol on his chest on some sort of hazmat suit, sort of like a hero would, but it was.. Odd."

"Can you draw it? The symbol?" Tim cut in, passing Jason a paper and pen. Jason drew the flaming D with the P on the inside and passed it back, aware of all the eyes on him staring warily. 

"And how do you feel?" Dick asked, hovering a bit, arms stretched out to touch Jason but not actually touching him."Is it gone for good?"

Jason sighed. How did he feel? "Tired mostly, but lighter. Phantom said to find him if it came back, but it shouldn't. I don't feel angry anymore though, no green rage-"

Before he could end his sentence, Dick scooped him into a hug, proclaiming he was so glad and happy for Jason, who just leaned into the hug. Maybe he was a bit too touch-starved and tired for this sort of conversation, but Jason didn't really care at the moment. Bruce watched with narrowed eyes, but he could see the relief and hope swirling in them too.

"You should stay at the Manor tonight, for observation,"Bruce said, and Jason just shrugged, which made Tim give him an odd look and Dick looked like he was about to start crying with happiness. "Did he say what he wanted in return?"

Jason batted Dick away and shook his head. "He didn't want anything. Pretty sure the kid was just curious about the pit rage, and wanted to help in case I turned out to be like him."He scoffed,"Hell, if I knew all I needed was a scrawny ghost kid to get rid of the rage, my life woulda been a hell of a lot easier these past few years." 

Everyone nodded in agreement at that. Dick softened in relief that nothing bad would happen because of this, and if anything, the little ghost that followed them was more of a help than what Damian called an annoyance. "What about the Halfas? Did he say more about those?" Tim asked. "I haven't heard of the Ghost Zone, or anything about Metas with ghost powers."

"S'not a meta. Different species more like. All the ghosts and Halfas are in hiding,"Jason said,"Apparently there's a secret branch of the government that hunts them. Mentioned some sort of Anti-ectoplasm act or somethin’. Phantom didn't elaborate, but I'm guessing Halfa's are half human, half ghost, and very rare. Figured he was in Gotham because he's looking out for one or all of them."

"All of them?" Bruce grunted.

"Only three halfas in the world, that he knew of,"Jason nodded, letting the information sink in. "That's why the kid was so eager to help, I guess. The Ghost Investigation Ward hunts anything with ectoplasm, for experiments, weapons, power sources, you name it. Kid thought they might come after me since they have something to detect ectoplasm. He said something about no one choosing to come in contact with the stuff and once you have it’s hard to find someone to teach you about it. Think he’s probably a hero or something in the Ghost Zone."

"Definitely something we're gonna look into,"Tim nodded,"He'd mentioned he was in danger before on patrol, so I bet the reason he didn't want our help is cause we sort of work with the government and might have to turn him in, I guess."Tim said, then added. "I'm looking at the Anti-Ecto Acts right now. Looks like it was snuck in with a bunch of bills about the environment to get passed. Jason's right, anything with ectoplasm falls under this. States that they're not classified as sentient, and gives funding to the ‘Ghost Investigation Ward’ to get rid of them or study them with whatever means necessary should they 'invade' earth."

"How have we not heard of this before?" Damian asked, folding his arms with a scowl. Jason figured this sort of topic was one Damian hated most. Kid valued all life, even the afterlife apparently. 

"Well, if all the ghosts and Halfas are hiding, and the law is hidden, there wouldn't be any sort of outlier that would gain our attention." Tim muttered, skimming the documents pulled up on the computer. "There's blatant dehumanization in this, it’s horrible. This shouldn't have been passed."

"Did Phantom say anything about their dimension?" Batman asked, getting to the point.

Jason hummed, "Said it was also called the Infinite Realms. It's where all ghosts are from and they rarely come to the human realm unless there's a thin spot, or man-made portal. Some ghosts have the power to make portals too, but Phantom can’t, I don’t think. Didn't say much, just that it was all made up of ectoplasm and ruled by the Ghost King."

"Ghost King?" Tim hummed. The kid was typing away furiously on the computer, and Jason was pretty sure he'd be like that all night. Now that the kid had some sort of mystery on his hands, there was no way he'd let it go. Bruce merely grunted, in a way that Jason thought meant 'how could we have missed a whole other realm of super powered beings in another dimension who happen to come to their realm on so many occasions that a secret government organization was formed to get rid of them.’ It made Jason smile smugly at being the first one to find out about it.

Jason eyed his green and blue sphere, now being examined by the Demon Brat, and felt something like peace for the first time in a long time. He knew he owed it to Phantom to help him with their GIW problem now. Not that they wouldn’t have before, but he felt indebted to the kid. Glowstick didn't know how long Jason had been struggling with the pit madness, just offered to help as soon as he noticed. It was heartwarming. 

"You said Phantom was Tim's age?" Bruce suddenly asked, and the room groaned collectively.

"You can't adopt a deceased teenager, father."Damian scowled.

Chapter 4

#Phantom in gotham #pog #danny phantom #dcxdp #dpxdc

[rrr-is-gay]

RRR ON-SCREEN KISS OPPORTUNITIES, rated for her pleasure

1. Immediately following the fisher boy rescue. They go onto the dock and kinda embrace one another but fail to kiss. Not okay. 3/10

2. The thigh touch scene. Come onnnnn, I know they’re talking about Sita, but they coulda squeezed a lil kissy kiss in there, if they had any courage at all. 8/10

3. RAMBHEEM SQUAT WORKOUT. Not exactly the ideal shot for an onscreen kiss; we’d need to get a little creative with the camera work to keep it cohesive. But it would be the literal hottest thing EVER, so I hate that it isn’t real. 8/10

4. MAKEOVER SCENE!!!!!!!!!!!! This one demands a kiss, multiple times! The beard trim? Pop a lil kiss on his nose, Ram! The hair treatment? Kiss his forehead! Changing his shirt? Bheem, give’m a nice lil smooch! It’s practically canon, the camera just cuts too quickly for us to see it. 10/10, peak kiss opportunity.

5. Pre-Naatu. How fucking SWAG would it be for them to just pop the fastest lil kiss on each other’s lips RIGHT at the moment they dunk on Jake for not knowing Naatu? This precise moment, when Bheem twirls around and Ram puts his arm on his shoulder? KISS!! 6/10

6. Post-Naatu piggyback ride. Would have loved to see Bheem kiss Ram’s cheek here. Totally ungrateful that he doesn’t. Wtf Bheem. 9/10

7. Sopping fucking wet. Bheem could totally pop a quick kiss onto Ram's lips before administering the antidote here. He's all up in Ram's face anyway, tending to him, caring for him, healing him. A nice kiss would help!!!!!!! 7/10

8. MARRIAGE CEREMONY. Bheem. BHEEM. You adorn your lover with the holy thread of your tribe, but don’t seal the deal with a kiss?? Maybe he thinks it’s dubcon cuz Ram is basically unconscious. Would’ve loved a kiss here, but I respect the consent king. 4/10

9. REVEAL YOURSELF TO ME IN BED. Bheem could have AT LEAST kissed Ram’s hands here, I mean wtf!!!!!! You think you might die tonight, and you could be saying goodbye forever, and you DON’T kiss????? 10/10, scene incomplete without a tender smooch.

10. Devastating fight. Bheem could’ve gone out on a limb here and really brought Ram back to reality if he’d gone in for a kiss. A bold move, yes, but not out of character for Bheem. 3/10

11. Pain, pain paaaaiiinnnn. Ram is more devastated in this moment than he’s ever been in his entire life. He would absolutely kiss Bheem’s head while holding his limp body in his arms. Only gets a pass cuz Ram is still undercover and a kiss would’ve given him away. 2/10

12. Hand nuzzle. CANON, I TELL YOU!!!! It’s CANON that Bheem kisses Ram’s hand here! It was only cut from the film because of homophobia! 11/10

13. Burn this lanka down. Okay. It’s one swift move to pull Ram out from the cell and onto Bheem’s shoulders. So a kiss on the lips couldn’t work. But Ram could, and should, totally kiss Bheem’s head right here. And Bheem should kiss Ram’s wrist! The fight can wait one millisecond!!! JUST KISS ALREADY! 8/10

14. Bridal carry. A nice swift peck from Ram to Bheem would really boost both of their morale right here. And it's such a brief shot, I'm sure the kiss happened, we just didn't get to see it. Once again, homophobia. 9/10

15. CANON CANON CANON CANON. I don’t wanna hear ANY debate or disagreement on this one, you little freaks! They DO kiss here! I can see the intention in Bheem’s eyes! That slow lean inward!!!! He’s about to kiss this man smack on the lips!!!! And Ram is so tired, but he’s BLISSFULLY here for it! He’s flat on his back, ready for Bheem’s plush lips to smother his right NOW! HEAL THIS MAN WITH YOUR SWEET KISS, BHEEM!!!! 10000000000/10

16. Phallic rifle. Would love a nice little makeout sesh right here in front of Governor Scott. How fucking badass would that be? Not a little peck either, I want them to get really filthy for a minute, because they’ve earned it! Grip that rifle and stick your tongues in each other’s mouths! Come on, the movie’s almost over! What have you got to lose?! 9/10

17. “What can I offer you in return?” “KISS ME!” This really is the last chance for these two men to show us how they really feel. I get that it’s kinda awkward in front of their friends and family, but it’s all worth it just to make Jenny uncomfortable. (Why is she there?????) Oh wait, Sita’s there too. Meh. I still want them to smooch. 7/10

18. Etthara Jenda! Dance, smile, skip, cheer, KISS! This song is all about victory and pride. Wouldn’t an onscreen kiss just be the cherry on top?! I think so. 9/10

#rrr #rambheem #ram/bheem #analysis #meta

[bunni-v1]

Cureé

Chapter 3: Respite Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Tw: Lilia is unsettling; reader is non-binary but is called "princess"

Info: Epel x Reader; Trey x Reader; Lilia and Reader; GN!Reader

🍓I'm back. Not really lol. But I finally finished the third chapter! Yay!! I promise I haven't given up on this account, I'm just ungodly busy...

Taglist: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing @roseinbloom02 @savanaclaw1996 (please tell me if you want to be added/removed!)

It was a quarter to one in the morning, and you lay restless in your bed. For nearly three hours you have been unable to sleep, tossing and turning with unanswered questions circling your head. No one whom you’d talked to had been any help in discovering the truth, and those who could help had not visited you in weeks. You were getting restless.

You sat up from your bed, accepting the fact that this would be another night without sleep. Grabbing your pretty purple silk robe – a gift from your brother this year – and slipping it on, you decided you would just have to go on another walk to clear your head. You peeked out of a crack in your door, smiling as you saw Ace and Deuce sleeping peacefully next to it. They were horrible at their job, but you adored them either way.

You began your stroll across the floors of the palace. Walks were the only way for you to clear your head now – since hunting was off the table, you had to make do with what you could. How you missed hunting, but you were too afraid of the forest to even try anymore.

Truthfully, you missed your life before seeing that horrible monster from the deepest parts of the forest. Sure, you were blindsided and forced into the strict rules your brother set, but at least you were constantly struck with stress and night terrors of that thing. At least you still had your best friend by your side.

You hadn’t seen Epel since that monster had appeared and torn your worldview apart. You worried that Vil had killed him without informing you, or at the least stripped him of his position. Sevens, if he’d done either, you might cause an uprising yourself.

You ran your fingers through your hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. Things had grown so intense, and yet nothing was happening, which only made you more frustrated the longer you thought. Why couldn’t things be as simple as the fairy tales you read as a child? Where was your prince charming to sweep you off your feet, and slay the evil beast so you both could bring peace to your beloved kingdom?

“Princess?” A familiar voice called behind you.

Your heart shot up into your throat, half startled and half excited. You turned quickly, locking eyes with familiar blue ones.

“Epel,” you sighed, “thank the sevens you’re okay!”

He rushed across the corridor, wrapping you up in a tight hug. He rarely allowed you to touch him, especially not in such an intimate way. It melted your heart to see that he had missed you as much as you had missed him.

“‘M sorry fer disappearing on ya,” he mumbled into your neck, “I woulda ‘f I coulda.”

You squeezed him tighter, “Don’t apologize, I know you would never abandon me.”

He pulled back, just enough that you could see each other, but his grip on your arms was firm – as if he was afraid you might disappear again if he let you go. 

“I thought ya were real hurt by that… thing… yer brother wouldn’ even tell me if ya were okay ‘r not.”

“Same thing here. He won’t even talk about you anymore, I thought for sure he’d beheaded you.”

He lifted one of his hands, slapping his face, “Seems like it’s all here.”

You laughed, patting his cheek, “Appears so… I won’t have to kill him – over this, at least.”

You took a moment to take in his appearance. His hair was a bit longer than when you last saw him, and it curled out more at the ends – you thought it was kind of cute. His face was still clear of any blemishes, but you could see in his eyes that he was tired.

“How are things,” you questioned gingerly. His eyes darted away from yours, a scowl marring his pretty features, “Epel…?”

He hesitated, “They’re… not great. Vil’s threatenin’ ta strip me of my title and status if I pull a stunt like that again. I don’ know what that’d mean fer ma granny ‘nd me, but nothin’ good fer sure.”

You frowned, taking his hands into yours, “I would never let that happen,” you assured, “I need you around, and that’s enough for Vil to keep you.”

He gave you a shaky smile, not confident in your conviction. You weren’t either. Still, you weren’t going to let anything bad happen to Epel.

An awkward silence filled the halls. Both of you were tense, still shaken up by what had been happening since you’d been separated. Too much time had passed since then and now, and you both had your plates full of responsibility and trauma you had yet to face. 

“Can we–?”

“We should–!”

You both spoke at the same time, laughing at the situation you’d found yourselves in. This tenseness wasn’t natural for the two of you, who could tell each other anything, and the laughter bubbled up faster than you could stop it.

“Yes.” You agreed together.

The two of you made it back to your room without bumping into anyone who may scold you – though Epel did nearly wake up Ace trying to pose him. He laid on your bed and you sprawled yourself out across his torso and spoke of all the things that had happened since you’d last seen each other. It felt good to talk to someone who really knew you.

You learned Epel’s workload had nearly doubled, likely as punishment for endangering you, and he had been too busy to even think of visiting you. In turn, you told him all about your suitors – which he found hilarious. His favorite was the dashing mystery man who still had not come for his hat.

“Maybe he fergot about ya’!” He teased.

“Oh– Shut up, you’re being mean!”

It was like old times – something you missed more than anything in the world recently. Still, you could not act like your present did not exist, even if you wished it didn’t.

“That… thing in the forest,” you started, and Epel nodded nervously.

“You’ve done yer own research on it, ahm assumin’.”

“Yes… but nothing has been very helpful, there’s no record in any of the books I’ve read. Both inside the castle and out, it’s like these things don’t exist.”

“I’ve run into the same issue, fer the most part…” he trailed off, a nervous look overtaking his features.

“What’s wrong Epel,” you queered.

He bit his lip, refusing to look you in the eye.

“Epel, you know you can tell me anything…” you assure, placing a hand on his forearm.

“Princess, y’know how Vil tells ya that magic is dangerous and yer not allowed ta practice it cause it could hurt ya? How no one in the castle ‘s allowed ta practice it ‘cept a few people?”

You frowned.

“Ahm one’ve them people. ‘Nd I wanted ta tell ya, but… I- I dunno I was worried you might… I-” The words wouldn’t come for him. He didn’t have a real reason, but he didn’t need one.

You squeezed his arm, giving a tense smile, “I understand Epel, it’s not like you practicing magic changes who you are… right?”

He shook his head, “I still shoulda told ya, yer my best friend… we don’t keep secrets-”

“Anymore. We don’t keep secrets anymore,” you corrected lightly, “besides, you being a magician is the least of my concerns right now.”

He let out a sigh, relaxing into your sheets as if the weight of the world had just fallen off his shoulders. 

“Sevens, that felt damn good,” he groaned, “hidin’ that from ya was the worst feelin’ in the world.”

You laughed, rolling off his torso and onto your back. You understood exactly how he felt – the amount of things you had to hide from your brother was unnatural.

He turned to you, “What about you? ‘M sure ya got a lot goin’ on in yer head.”

“Where do I even begin?” you cried out. “This… monster… thing has been haunting me. I- I can’t find anything on it. It’s like… I don’t know… it’s purposefully being hidden from me.”

He nodded in agreement, “Yer probably right, ‘nd ‘m not just sayin’ that.”

“What do you mean…?”

“Yer brother has always been up to some suspicious stuff, y’know. He’s real secretive of his magic studies, and recently he and some’ve them suitors ‘f yours have been havin’ sneaky secret meetings.”

“Really? Which ones– I mean, and what about? You don’t think it could be linked to… you know… what happened to us…?”

“I think it’s the blue guy with the wild hair, ‘nd that fae prince ya stood up at yer party – well, usually it’s his envoy. The one with the big creepy eyes?”

“General Vanrouge?”

“Yeah, him, and some silvery-haired guy” He exclaimed, “I can never really make out what they’re sayin’ though, but ’m sure it’s got something to do with that ink monster.”

You bit your lip. At least your worries weren’t unfounded, but now the threat felt more real than ever before. Worse yet, you were essentially powerless against it. You had no real idea of what this thing was, no idea of how it came about, and no magical power. All you had was the hope that the mysterious man would come back as he promised you.

“Hey,” Epel soothed, “don’t worry, we’re gonna figure this thing out, kay? Yer not alone, I’ll do mah best to find out what I can.”

You nodded. Worrying like this wasn’t going to solve anything, you would just have to work harder to find a solution.

“Thank you Epel.”

“‘F course, princess.”

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

After you let Epel slip away, you decided you needed time to relax. You hadn’t realized just how tense everything had made you, but your whole body was aching and your head was thrumming. Tea. Sevens, you needed a nice herbal tea and maybe some pastries. Palace staff wouldn’t be awake at this hour, so you would have to make it yourself.

Re-tying your robe around your waist, and placing the hunter's hat on your head, you cracked your door open to see who was at your door. Pleasantly surprised to find Trey, Riddle Roseheart’s personal guard, outside. It was odd to see him without his other half, Cater, and especially odd that he would be guarding your door. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he spotted you.

“Sneaking out, Your Majesty?” he said with a teasing air about him. The guards from the Rosedome were so much more fun than your own.

“No. Not with you here at least,” you replied, stepping outside of your room, “I was hoping to grab some tea, what a surprise it is to find you here, and not my dearly beloved Ace and Deuce.”

He smiled, “We – and all the other kingdom’s guards for that matter – have had to adhere to the rules of your head guard to stay here, so we’re on a regular rotation at night. I’m your guy until six.”

He gave you a wink, which made your heart flutter more than you wanted it to. Damn your brother and his sheltering you, it makes you so weak to simple affections.

You composed yourself internally and nodded, “That’s fine, I don’t mind who stands outside of my door so long as they are pleasant to talk to.”

He hummed, “It’s quite late for the princess to be up, don’t you think?”

“My head is full of too many thoughts, that’s why I wanted tea – and maybe some pastries, if I can make them.”

“Pastries would be nice, wouldn’t they?”

“Are you asking to accompany me, Sir Clover?”

“Only from a distance, if the princess would allow it.”

You smiled and nodded. Yes, Rosedome guards were far more entertaining than your own. Trey was required to follow you around regardless, but he made a little game of asserting that. You wished your palace guards could banter with you as easily as he did, not give you simple yes or no. Truly no fun.

You continued your light back and forth with your new friend as you made your way to the kitchen. He mostly spoke about his family and the several younger siblings he helped raise – which would explain the brotherly vibes that he gave off. He was also Riddle’s childhood friend, which you were surprised to find out.

His mother was so controlling that she wouldn’t even allow the two of you to talk whenever she visited with him. To find out that he had actual friends was a shocker, and a bit heartbreaking. Why weren’t you allowed to be friends with Riddle Rosehearts?

“What was he like as a child? Has he always had such a temper?” you wondered aloud.

“No,” Trey laughed, “Sevens, he was such a timid kid – he didn’t even know how to ask for his turn on the swing.”

“Really? Goodness, what a funny thought. Timid Riddle Rosehearts!”

“Isn’t it? I can hardly imagine him anything but angry now,” he sighed.

You frowned a little. His mother must’ve done quite a number on him, to change him from sweet to monstrous. You’ve seen that sweet side of him in the library. You hoped you could see more of it.

“You said you wanted to make pastries?” Trey asked suddenly, holding the door of the kitchen open for you.

You nodded, ‘“If possible, I don’t usually bake, so it might not be easy.”

“My family owns a bakery, so I can help you out.”

“Oh! Wouldn’t that be asking too much, though? You’re not here to bake for me.” You worried.

“I love to bake, so don’t worry.”

You glided across the kitchen floor, quickly finding the cabinet full of your favorite teas. You had helped the kitchen staff stock it yourself, to ensure that you could always sneak a pot if you had sleepless nights like this one. Trey looked around the kitchen in wonder and delight – the Rosedom must not have such a magnificent kitchen like this. 

The pretty cream-colored walls contrasted with the black-marbled floors, making the room appear larger than it truly was. The stove was impressive, with room to cook several meals at once, made of black stone mined from the Sunset Savannah. The counters were made of dark oak wood, shining in the reflection of the lamplight. Better yet, this wasn’t even the main kitchen – this one belonged to you and your brother to use as you need.

Trey whistled, taking everything in as you began to boil water for your tea. 

“Impressed?”

“Very. My parents would kill to have something like this,” he responded absently.

You hummed, “I love this kitchen, though I don’t really know how to use anything other than the kettle.”

“Riddle’s the same way,” he laughed, “if I tell him what to do he can cook it up easily, but he can’t do it himself.”

You smiled at the affection in his voice, “My mom used to make these lovely raspberry tarts. They were so warm and sweet, and I used to eat a whole plateful by myself. I’ve tried to follow her recipe, but they always come out sunken in or burnt.”

“Why don’t we make those then?”

“Oh, could we,” you say breathlessly, “I would love to try again – I miss her baking so much.”

“Of course, and I’ll make sure we won’t burn them, it might take the rest of the night, though.”

“That's fine! I wasn’t planning on sleeping anyway.”

He laughs heartily, “Let's get started then!”

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

Baking was much harder than you expected. You weren’t getting the expected results because you weren’t reading the measurements your mother wrote right. Instead of teaspoons, you were putting tablespoons, and several other mistakes like that. It was embarrassing, but Trey was gentle and patient with you.

You had also been overcooking your tarts, which is why they never came out that delicious golden brown you loved. When Trey pulled them out of the oven, you practically salivated at the sight. They looked and smelled exactly like your mom used to make, it was like a dream come true. You would’ve dug in if they weren’t so hot, steam was still floating off their tops.

Trey set them on the counter, stepping back and smiling proudly at his work. They looked delicious, but the two of you had definitely made too many. Even though you loved those tarts, you could never eat all of them – not even with Trey’s help.

“We made too many…” you pouted.

“That’s not a bad thing, Your Majesty,” he chuckled, patting your head carefully.

“I don’t know what to do with them, I don’t want them to go bad!”

He hummed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “Well, if you don’t want to waste them I know someone who would be more than happy to take some off your hands.”

“Please! I would love to share them. My mother's cooking is something everyone should get to experience.”

“I’ll be sure to get them to him,” he laughed, “you should get to bed. It’s late, and I’m sure you have plenty to do tomorrow.”

You sigh, picking up one of the tarts and taking a bite out of it. It was gooey and soft and perfect, just like your mom used to make. You were tired, though. Incredibly so.

“I’ll get these all packed up,” Trey said, moving to hand you a cup of your favorite herbal tea, “you get back to bed, I don’t want you falling asleep on the kitchen floor.”

You give him a grateful look, taking in a whiff of the sweet scent of tea. You moved back to your room slowly – partially because you were tired, mostly because you enjoyed the quietness of the halls at night. You loved to have the freedom to walk the halls without whispers or being bothered by staff. It was just you, a normal person – as normal as a princess could be.

You took a sip of your tea, closing your eyes and delighting in the taste. Opening your eyes again, you jumped, spilling some tea in the process.

In front of you now stood General Lilia Vanrogue of the Valley of Thorns. On the ceiling. Part of Prince Malleus’ personal entourage. He was unique-looking, with black and pink hair and bright ruby-red eyes as big as a doll. He was the picture-perfect representation of the unsettling, and he was staring you down.

His head cocked to the side, and a mischievous smile crossed his features. Your blood ran cold at the sight. What was he going to do to you? Was he going to attack you? Drink your blood for power? (He was Fae, not a vampire, you dunce.)

“I like your hat,” he spoke in a voice deeper than the seas.

It startled you, expecting a much smaller voice – but you supposed Fae didn’t subscribe to normal convention. You didn’t realize what he was saying until a few seconds after he spoke, and only then did you nervously adjust the hat on your head.

“Ah, thank you, General Vanrouge,” you managed to squeak out.

He hummed, taking a spot on the floor with you now, “There’s no need for such formalities when we are alone. Lilia will do fine.”

You swallowed, tapping your fingers along your glass, “Well, thank you then, Lilia.”

You stood in silence as he observed you, at least that is what you think he was doing. His eyes never really left your own, and he didn’t make any indication of thought or sizing you up. He just… matched you.

Then, again, “I’ve been wanting to speak with you, but you’re very slippery.”

“Uh, thank you, I think…”

Suddenly, he bowed, deeply and respectfully. It took you off guard, especially since you knew he owed you no real respect – not after how you blew up at his Prince.

“I apologize for Prince Malleus’ behavior at your birthday party,” he said, “he is not used to socializing with others, especially not people he is trying to court.”

You didn’t know what to say. It was… nice to have an apology but… he wasn’t the one you wanted it from.

“Uhm, it’s alright. I shouldn’t have caused such a scene,” you stuttered out, “and you don’t need to bow.”

He stood upright, fixing you with a smile, “I do not blame you for your reaction, I would’ve done the same in your position.”

He looked up to the moon in the sky, lips twisting into a little frown, “It’s getting late, you should get to sleep.”

You didn’t respond, instead just nodding at him. When he didn’t move you frowned, face twisting in confusion. He raised an eyebrow, and you realized he was waiting for you to go first. You skittered away quickly after that, feeling his eyes pierce the back of your skull until you rounded the corner. 

Fae were terrifying.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁 #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #lilia twst #lilia vanrouge

[taldigi]

So I'm curious: What is SHY? All I've heard about it is that it's a better version of Miraculous Ladybug.

So SHY is about a socially anxious girl who is chosen to be she superhero for her country. She has to learn to be a hero and discover herself as well as her powers.

She has a guardian critter. (Shrimpy)

The magical item used to turn her into her a hero is connected to her heart.

Purple artifacts/magic is used to corrupt people via their emotions. Its very close to how akumas work.

But the process of defeating them is about processing those emotions so the rings can be removed, rather than just smashing the item. It's put into detail in the show, but it really is "Akumas if they were good"

It's not a 1-1 story in the slightest, it has a lot of interesting but it really does live up to that claim that it's ML but better. It has a lot of elements that would have been a positive alteration in ML, tho- like an international cast and a heroine who gets to learn about it and the mysteries of the world on-screen (as a new hero).

Shy's design really hits that sweet spot on the appeal of Ladybug's design coulda shoulda had. She has little floppy ears on her hood and swoopy bits on her back to give the design some flow during action shots- while still being a superhero-esque fit. Even though she shows more skin than Ladybug does, she feels less sexualized overall. (Teru is 14 and Marinette is 13-14 as well.)

a fun comparison of similar poses.

Ultimately, Teru goes through steps that Marinette SHOULD have gone through, rather than be an ultra-confidant girlboss from the beginning who's anxious when the plot calls for it.

though, the appeal of ML is that it's.. uh, supposed... to be a duo sort of hero show. Shy doesn't have a catboy partner, just Shrimpy.

Also, LOOK AT THEM

I rest my case

#Anonymous