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shomixremix · 7 months

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THE ALTAR OF ADORATION ♥︎

recently i've been getting more and more into my zhongli brainrot (even though he's been one of my fav characters since forever lol) so here you all go!!

oh also tysm for over 1k notes, 100+ reblogs and 50 new followers!! you guys are the best <3 i really didn't expect that kind of support on my last post - turns out everyone likes some dragon men!! so i decided to write some more, here you lovelies go!!

tags: Zhongli, female! reader, dragon! zhongli, religious themes, sacrificial offering, smut, fluff, mating, breeding, creampie, monsterfucking

-> you have been chosen as a sacrifice to the great geo lord rex lapis, during a period where everyone believed he was mad at mortals. scared for your life and trembling, you now realize there was another problem troubling lord morax.

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI

great lord rex lapis roamed the earths and heavens for centuries, ruling the land of geo and its people through the thick and thin. they were very devoted followers, obeying his every wish.

however, the height of his reign has long passed, and people simply stopped caring about their archon. until recently.

crops began to wither, mines dried out, contracts were getting broken left and right - rex lapis has had enough of their careless behavior. his people have disappointed him, and this was a sign of his fury. if something wasn't to change, he would abandon them completely.

the people of liyue decided to recommit to their religion, prepared to offer the geo lord a sacrifice of any kind, just so he'd once again bless them. you, even though born in a time where people lost their respect for the geo lord, have always been a devoted follower, praying to him each day and leaving flowers and beautiful crystals under his statue of the seven.

already being a believer of the geo archon, you were chosen as the ceremonial sacrifice.

while nobody knew where rex lapis resided, the site of the ceremony was chosen to be on mt. hulao. as the crowds of people gathered from all over liyue around the lake on the top of the mountain, you stood in front of them, shaking. while you were a follower of morax, you didn't feel it was right to die for the sins of your people.

"it's time to pay our sacrifise!" yelled one of the townsfolk, holding your wrist in an iron grip as he he slit your palm with a sharp knife. you screamed out in pain as maroon blood dripped down your hand. the man who slit your hand placed a valuable cor lapis stone in it, watching as the orange stone quickly became stained with your red blood.

you held your breath as they placed you on the highest point of the mountain and pushed you off, chanting morax's name over and over.

falling seemed to last centuries, even though it was just seconds. you waited and waited for your body to hit the ground, tightening your hold on the cor lapis and in your head praying:

"rex lapis, if you're here, if you hear my prayer, please, i beg you, save me!"

suddenly, your feel onto something, tightly closing your eyes. was this... death?

you open your eyes and realize this wasn't any kind of afterlife - in fact, you were very much still alive, spread on top of the back of a large dragon. your mortality was confirmed by the sharp pain you still felt in your left hand.

"..r-rex l-lapis..?"

the dragon stayed quiet as you clutched his mane, holding on to him for dear life. he only let you get down once you were inside a large cave, seeming like it wasn't a part of the human world - no, this had to be an adepti realm.

an uneducated mortal maybe wouldn't be certain just who was standing between them, but you knew oh so very well. his goldenish brown scales, the big, honey-colored eyes and the tail which ended in a mosaic of clouds all gave him away. standing before you was the geo archon, the adeptus who saved your life even though you were a peace offering.

he stayed quiet, removing you from his back like it was nothing and moving to a completely different side of the cave, laying down on the cold ground with his back turned to you.

he was in no mood to talk, you knew, but you had to thank him for saving your life.

"lord morax..?"

he grumbled in response, steam coming out of his large nostrils.

"i cinserely thank you for saving my life... i was supposed to be a mere sacrifise, yet you still showed me mercy.. i.. just, thank you so much.."

the second the word "sacrifise" leaves your lips rex lapis perks up, turning to you with frantic eyes. he grabs your hand to inspect the still slightly bleeding cut, tearing a piece of your skirt to wrap around your wound as a bandage. morax tightly ties it, then quickly moves from you.

"it should stop the bleeding," he grumbled low, never turning to look at you, almost as if he was completely uninterested, "i will bring you to the villege tomorrow, little mortal. now sleep. your body needs rest"

how could you rest after such a traumatic experience? after almost having your life, all your hopes and dreams, unfairly thorn from you?

"no, i.. i can't return! they will all know that i failed, that i wasn't the sacrifise they all needed to save liyue from your punishment!"

morax huffs, his tail hitting the ground with a loud thump.

"then you can tell them all that i do not wish for a sacrifise. spilling innocent human blood is not only unecessary but also completely repulsive to me."

your eyes widen as he says this, your body instinctively moving a little closer to him: "you.. do not wish for a sacrifise, my lord? then how should we repay you for our sins? how can we ever make you forgive us for losing our faith in you..?"

rex lapis growls lowly, his body tightening like he was in some kind of discomfort or pain.

"the lack of my blessing isn't for the reasons your kind believes," he growled, "i'm not upset at you humans. now sleep." you knew well that that was an order, and an order coming from an archon must always be obeyed. yet, you didn't, scooting closer to him.

"the only thing to be upset about is that they sent you as the offering. how unfair it is to send one of my most devoted followers to die for my amusement.."

you hold your breath, afraid that he was actually considering killing you.

"i've recieved all the little treasures you leave out for me and have heard your every word. you're a persistant little one, aren't you?" even though you couldn't see him, you could feel the smirk on his face.

the knowledge that he has seen and heard how you worship him makes your heart thump loudly in your chest, a pool of pride and flusterness swirling in your belly.

suddenly, morax smells the air sharply, then started writhing on the ground in pain, cursing out a deep yet broken"fuck..!".

"are you in pain, my lord? can i do something to help?" you ask eagerly, wishing to help your saviour.

"move away!" he roared, steam coming out of his mouth. "go to sleep and stop talking to me when i ask, mortal!"

you frigtenedly to as told, laying down on the ground and turning away from him, squeezing your eyes shut. suddenly, you hear little muffled whines and cries coming from him, which immediately makes you look at him again.

his large head is completely flushed red, his lungs heaving up and down quickly. he panted out short little puffs of air, his eyes bloodshot ready and his body trembling slightly. you didn't know what was wrong with him, he acted like some kind of a wild animal in a rut-

"lord morax, are you.. in a rut..?" it was a shameful question to ask the archon, yet your curiosity got the better of you.

he huffed out, more and more in pain with every passing minute. "i haven't... hah... i haven't been in centuries... it's inevitable i go through it every couple of hundred years..."

morax groans, visibly in a lot of discomfort.

"and of course that when i'm in a rut they just have to send me a gorgeous woman as a sacrifice to worsen my state..."

your cheeks darken as he murmurs this, blood rushing to your head.

"how do i worsen your state..?"

"your arousal" he rasps, "i can smell it, little mortal. i can smell you, and it's torture. it pains every muscle in my body to resist you, but i have to; it's my duty"

your heart aches at his words.

"i can help" you breathe, unsure what you were even offering. his sharp eyes turn to you, piercing you with his gaze.

"no", his answer is short but stern, "i could kill you, i could harm you and leave you not remembering your own name. i cannot do that to my most devoted follower. not to you, y/n"

your heart stops, dropping to your feet.

"how do you know my name...?"

he groans as he explains: "i often wander around the mortal world in my human form, to feel closer to your kind... i have met you a couple of times during your prayer at the statue of the seven. i cannot use your pure body to breed when i know how much respect and hope you have in me. it would be betrayal to you, and you would never see me, nor my human form, the same"

"it pains me to see my archon in pain" you whisper as you get closer to the large dragon, your stomach stirring. you gently touch the scales down his back and feel how he shivers under your touches.

"i want... i want to help you, if i can... i want to help you through this.. you have helped me through the darkest points in my life, and even though i don't know who your human form is, i have a feeling i'm close to you even then... i just desire to help you, lord morax..."

"do you even understand what kind of help i need? what i will do to you if you allow me?"

you smile, running your hands through his shiny mane.

"yes, i understand. use me however you like, my lord."

his self control snaps, big paws pinning you down on the ground. he's panting like a dog as he nuzzles his head against your neck, tearing the rest of your skirt off. only left in a pair of underwear and a thin shirt, you tremble under the archon's touches.

"hm.. such a beautiful mortal..." he hums as he tears the rest of your cloth from your body, leaving you completely bare. you try to cover yourself with your arms, yet morax grabs them and pins them by your sides.

his large mouth comes in contact with your skin, licking, kissing and biting as he moved down. morax grazes your skin with his teeth, never biting down hard enough to draw blood from your veins. you had already done your sacrifice, more blood wasn't needed. his tounge moves from your neck to your exposed breast, swirling around your hard nipples, earning a little whimper from you.

then, he moves even lower, nipping at your stomach. he forces your tighs apart, burying his large head to your folds and forcing you to hold on to him by his horns. rex lapis tastes you eagerly, lapping up any slick your body oh so willingly gave him. you moaned and whined as he fucked you with his tounge, making you come almost instantly.

"ohhhh!! m-morax~ ahh..." you moan as he helps you through it, sharply tugging on your sensitive clit with his sharp teeth, always careful not to hurt you.

"celestia" he sighs into your slick folds, earning a tremble from you. "you taste devine, my dear. i haven't enjoyed such a sweet taste in centuries"

he shows you no mercy and continues to eat you out as if you were his last meal, one paw holding down your wrists and the other secured on your hips, not allowing you to move at all. after about three delicious highs he pulls from your frail body with his tounge, you start begging for the real thing. you knew his rut wouldn't be over unless he fucked you, and you were kinda hoping this torterous foreplay would be over soon...

"m-morax... please.." you whimper, squeezing your legs around his snout. he grumbles low, giving one final lick to your greedy pussy.

"i have to loosen you as much as possible so you could even try to take me. preperations can take up to days."

your eyes open wide and your mouth partens. you couldn't wait days to get him to fuck you, and you certainly didn't know how you'd survive days worth of eating out!

"but i cannot wait that long" he smirks, rubbing your outter tighs and ass. in one swift motion he flips you over so you were on your knees, face down and ass up. you feel his length rubbing up on you; even though you couldn't see him, your eyes went wide in shock. you felt how impossibly large he was, both in size and girth, almost being comparable to your legs.

but another thing surprises you - the head of his cock is poking at your tight entrance, but another thing is poking at your ass! you turn your head in shock, and he reassures you.

"i am different than a mortal, my dear"

you let out a loud scream of his name as he harshly thrusts both of his heavy cocks into you. he thrusts as far as he can, entering your cushy womb from how big he is and almost ripping your ass apart. you scream and cry and writhe yet he doesn't budge, letting you get used to him inside you for a few moments before he starts thrusting.

he starts moving without a warning, dragging you back on his cocks. you turn into a sobbing mess as each one of his thrusts so pleasantly tease your g-spot, bullying your tight walls.

"ahh.. ahhh! mphhh! mmphshs! m- mor... ah! ohhh!"

you cry and cry, not even knowing your own name out of so much pleasure. you feel like your holes are completely loose and yet, clamping down on him greedily. he tugs your head back by your hair, snuggling his nuzzle in your neck so you'd hear him better.

"shh, don't cry... you've asked me for this, little mortal. you asked to be fucked like this, hm? look at you, so pretty like this. so no need to cry, you will be fine. i allow you as much pleasure as you need. "

you couldn't stop yourself from coming, squirting your juices all over his cock. he watches this in amusement, fucking into you harder and faster. in one moment, he threw his head back in pleasure, making a loud roar.

"fuck, y/n..." he groaned as you hiccupped your sobs, finally giving a harsh, last thrust and stilling inside. you felt an impossible amount of warmth spread through your body as he filled you with seed, spilling a wave after wave of cum in your womb. he had filled you so much that it spilled from you, leaving you entirely breathless.

as soon as he's done he pulls out, letting you fall to the floor. he picks up your limp body, curling himself around you and cuddling you close.

"it's alright, my dear... you did perfect. you were just devine, and you've felt better than anything i've ever felt in all my years. rest, now. i will take care of the rest tomorrow."

your head hazy, your mind fuzzy with pleasure and your eyes heavy, you lay curled against him and finally get the much needed sleep.

the next morning, you wake up with a human, veined arm around your bare waist.

"there you are... you are too adorable in your sleep" a deep voice said from behind you, and you turned around, expecting to see the geo archon.

yet, you were faced with a man you knew all to well - the man you had deep feelings for ever since he first arrived in liyue harbour.

"mr. zhongli?!"

he hums out a laugh, tightening his hold on you.

"yes, if i'm correct, we've met in my human form a couple of times?"

you blush deeply, reminiscing on the few blissful times you talked to him. he was a very handsome, successful young man, with great wisdom and a clever mind - and you admired him very much, so much that you couldn't help but fall in love.

"you look dissapointed... are you not fond of me after finding out who i am?"

he asks, his gaze softening and looking almost saddened. you quickly reassure him:

"no, no, i'm not dissapointed! more like stunned.." you blush and he notices, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers.

"oh? why is that? i have always assumed we had a fairly good relationship, y/n. you have always been so nice to me"

"i.. i've had feelings for you for quite a while..." you say shyly, almost embarassed of the fact.

his lips curl into a genuinely happy smile, his arms pressing you closer to his bare chest.

"then everything turned out alright"

you smile, but everything suddenly dawns on you - that zhongli seemed to be okay with your feelings for him, that you almost died yesterday as a sacrifice, that zhongli is morax and most importantly, that oh, you fucked the geo archon, in his dragon form no less!

"am i pregnant now..?" you ask quietly, reminded that the act of a rut is mainly to breed and create off-spring. zhongli laughs at your question, leaving a quick peck on your forehead.

"no, most likely not. but you will be, in a few hundred years, once i have to go through this all over again" you almost choke on your own spit as he says this.

"but... i won't be alive in a few hundred years... you will have to find another to help you through this.."

as soon as you mention him sleeping with another woman his face turns into one of disgust, his strong arms gathering your entire body in his hold.

"as my mate, you will live as long as i do, and i'm immortal, my dear."

"your mate?!"

"yes. by helping me through my rut, you have become my mate. of course, only if that's what you wish" he says, pressing a loving kiss to your eyelid. "and do not worry, my dear, dragons mate for life"

he almost purrs into your warm skin, making a referance to what you said about him sleeping with another woman.

"...being your mate.." you sigh, cuddling into his chest.

"it's like what you humans call "relationship" except a stronger bond, sort of an unbreakable contract between the two of us. a forever promise of care, love and loyalty."

"i think i would like that" you humm into his chest, "but, let's take it a little slow?"

he kisses you full of warmth, his hands soothing your sides.

"of course, my dear. i will take you on a proper date when we get back. for now, just lay there and let me thank you properly for your help last evening..." he sighs as he kisses your shoulder over and over again.

yesterday at this time of day you were supposed to be nothing but a sacrifice to the geo lord, and now here you were, getting your body worshiped by him, forever safe and secure in his arms as his mate.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin smut #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli smut #zhongli fluff #dragon zhongli #smut #fluff #religious themes #female reader #requests open

2K notes · View notes

emilys-bangs · 4 days

Note

The last thing you reblogged gave me an idea !

Touch starved Emily who is friends with you but would never dare ask you for unnecessary hugs etc., you two are close but she doesn’t want to cross that bridge since she definitely likes you a lot more than just a friend and also she’s scared of being so open and vulnerable that she admits she needs a hug and a cuddle.

You two are on a case once again, end up rooming together and there’s only one bed. You both don't really mind and go to sleep, each one on their respective side of the bed - except when you wake up in the middle of the night, Emily is cuddled around you, having subconsciously seeked your touch while she’s asleep.

You can decide how to go from there if this idea is any good to you, no worries if not and I hope you have a great week 😘😘

Tysm for requesting, I hope you have a great week as well! I sincerely thank that one post about touch starved Emily that made us all go insane <3

----

Midas touch | emily prentiss x reader

Tags: touch starved Emily, room sharing, bed sharing, fluff, a ridiculous amount of yearning

Word count: 2.5k

You’d have to be blind not to notice Emily’s affinity for touch.

It’s something you’ve picked up on after a mere week in the BAU, and honestly, you’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like she craves touch, physically needs the added comfort of hands wrapping around elbows, arms slung across shoulders and casual side-hugs. In the more lax confines of Rossi’s living room or o’keefe’s, it’s not unusual to see her wrapped around somebody, or at least closely sharing what’s meant to be personal space.

At work, however, it’s different; a bit more subtle, but still palpably flowing with love—the way she sneaks behind Garcia’s chair and wraps her arms around her neck in hello, Emily’s cheek pressing against the analyst’s. How she runs her fingers through Spencer’s messy curls, and how—despite his protests—he lets her, almost imperceptibly leaning into her hand before she pulls away. Her hip is frequently attached to JJ’s, their temples touching as she slides her palm into the back pocket of JJ’s jeans. Rossi is given paternal kisses on the cheek, Morgan dragged around with his hand in hers, their fingers interlocking in a weave of pale and dark. Even Hotch gets his fair share of physical affection from her, though more subtle but no less loving; a tugging at his belt loops, a nimble fixing of his tie, the brush of her fingers along his elbow.

Everyone gets a piece of Emily’s attention.

Everyone except you.

It upsets you in ways you can’t fully explain—at least not without admitting to yourself that you’re falling deeply and helplessly in love with her. None of it remotely makes sense; despite her very deliberately withholding her touch from you, she’s been nothing but lovely, always having your back and gently correcting you when you slip up.

But still, when an overbooked hotel forces Hotch to relay the unfortunate news of doubling up and she turns to you, surprise renders you silent.

“Me and you?” Emily asks, paying no mind to JJ next to her.

You speak through your dry throat, “Um—yeah, sure.”

Hotch places the key in your hand, glad to have one pair down. You dig it into the flesh of your palm.

“I’ll take that one, thank you.” Rossi plucks a key from Hotch’s hand and turns away, leisurely walking to the elevator as protests rise behind him.

Hotch shakes his head, exasperated. You almost feel sorry for him. “Morgan?” He says, looking at him. Morgan nods, which leaves JJ with Reid.

Reid looks pleased; JJ less so, but she doesn’t protest as she takes the key from Hotch.

“Aww, good luck, pretty girl.” Emily coos, cupping JJ’s cheek and tapping it playfully. Jealousy stirs in your stomach, hot and acidic as JJ shrugs off her hand with an eye roll, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

The key is in your hand so you turn on your heel, a bad taste in your mouth as Reid starts to protest, the sound getting lost somewhere between Emily’s soft laughs.

She knows them longer than she knows you, you think as you take the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the beating of your heart. Your somewhat blurry eyes pick out the door with the matching number on your key. Your legs take you to it, almost on autopilot.

“Hey, wait up,” Emily’s voice carries, reaching you in a cloud of spun silk. There’s a rush of air behind you and you feel her creeping over your shoulder, the scent of her perfume choking you sweetly. “You don’t want me to sleep in the hall, do you?”

You can’t bring yourself to rise to the teasing in her voice. Fitting the key in the lock with unsteady fingers, you mumble, “Would’a let you in if you’d knocked.”

But trying to keep your distance doesn’t work, because the one bed in the room glares at you as soon as you push the door open.

Your throat goes dry.

Emily hovers impatiently at your back and you swallow as you take a step into the threshold of the room, wondering how the hell she’d share a bed with you when she seems reluctant to touch you in the first place.

Panicked, you take your bag and head into the bathroom before Emily can say anything, desperately needing a moment to compose yourself. It’s safe to say you spend more time in there than you usually would, lengthening your short routine to busy yourself.

Only when you’ve semi-calmed down do you go out, finding her perched on the edge of the large—king sized, at least—bed.

“Hey. Are you okay with this?” Emily’s eyes are wide and dark, shining with concern.

There’s no place for you to sleep anyway if you said no, but somehow you get the feeling she’d make it work if you were uncomfortable. A confused rush of emotion runs hot under your skin; lingering jealousy and ever present bitterness and confusing pleasure at her concern.

God, you need to go to bed.

“I’m fine with it,” you force a smile. It must not be very convincing, because Emily frowns, a delicate pull drawing her brows together. Just before she says something, you speak. “Are you okay with it?”

That snaps her out of it. “Yeah,” Emily murmurs, a dimple winking at you as she gives you a small smile, “as long as you don’t kick.”

You didn’t expect her to agree so easily. Some part of you wonders if she’s lying, but you can’t look at her eyes long enough to decipher that—you’re mildly afraid if you sunk into their depths you’d never be able to claw your way out.

“I haven’t had any complaints,” you try to shrug casually. “Do you prefer a side?”

“No, go ahead. It doesn’t matter what side I sleep on, I always somehow find my way in the middle.”

That makes you crack a smile.

The bathroom door clicks shut behind her and you press your knuckles into your eyes, wondering if you can possibly get through this night without losing your already delicate composure.

It’s just a bed, you tell yourself as you take out a pair of sweatpants to serve as pajamas. And it’s just for one night. It’s fine.

It’s fine. Sure it is.

You’re already in bed and beneath the sheets when Emily walks out of the bathroom. It’s a mistake to look at her, because you think you’ve just fallen deeper in love.

She’s shaking her hair out from the confines of its ponytail and it falls in soft waves around her shoulders, curling at the ends where the water sprayed it. A cotton tank top gently hugs her body, and pale blue shorts skim the tops of her thighs.

She’s not wearing a bra.

You’re staring.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to share tonight,” Emily smiles sheepishly as she lifts the covers and climbs into the bed. A lump is lodged in your throat at the sight of her bare legs slipping through the sheets, shimmering softly from her lotion. It smells sweet, she smells sweet—like warm cocoa butter—and it takes everything in you not to inhale deeply like a creep.

“Neither was I.” You croak. Emily settles her head on her pillow and you try not to stare at her lashes, so naturally long and thick even without her usual mascara.

She’s literally going to be the death of you.

“G’night,” you mumble and turn away before she can answer. The heat in your cheeks burns, and you dig them into the pillow in hopes of cooling them down.

“Night,” Emily whispers back. The sheets rustle as she presumably turns, too.

Needless to say, it takes a while for you to fall asleep.

It must happen at some point, though, because something wakes you. You open your eyes to the darkness of the room, unsure what it is. You just know that you’re abnormally warm and trapped beneath something smelling like cocoa butter.

Emily.

Your sluggish brain slowly puts the pieces together. Her arm is around your neck, cutting across your chest; her thigh is hitched over your hip. Cold fingertips are hooked into the collar of your t-shirt and you shiver despite the warmth of your own body. Slow breaths puff across your neck, warm and even.

Briefly, you think you’re dreaming, but just as quickly that thought dissipates. She’s too real, too warm—and anyway your imagination could never come up with something as divine as this.

You’re not completely innocent either. Your arm is hooked around her waist, your skin directly touching the warm skin of her waist. Her tank top has risen up and your blurry eyes catch a tattoo on her hipbone; a faded butterfly.

You should let her go.

It’s an internal battle, because she fits there, perfectly, and even though you know it’s wrong, you close your eyes and continue holding her.

It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. She doesn’t want your touch. She’s made that perfectly clear, but her warm body, the soft tickle of her hair, they cloud your senses, fog your brain and hide all traces of reason or sensibility.

But still, half asleep or not, you can’t betray her trust like this.

You’re just about to force yourself to let go when Emily snuggles closer, a long sigh escaping through her nose. Her lashes tickle your skin, wispy and light across your neck as she nestles into your collarbone.

Fuck.

You hold still and wait for her to move again. She doesn’t, other than the steady rise and fall of her chest, so you close your eyes too. You would’ve thought it would be difficult to fall asleep with almost every inch of her body touching every inch of yours, but you’re encompassed in warmth and softness and the scent of cocoa butter.

Really, it only takes a minute before you’re asleep again.

———

She’s still in your arms when you wake up. Your alarm didn’t ring yet—it must’ve been a combination of Emily’s warmth and your internal clock that woke you up.

Her head is now on your pillow, one of her knees slotted between yours and her arm around your waist. She’s like a clingy koala, even in her sleep, and it only makes your heart ache.

Through the blurriness in your vision you see the small freckles that dot her cheeks. They’re tiny, almost unnoticeable, scattered over the bridge of her nose and under her swooping lashes. Her fingers tighten in your shirt and again the guilt surfaces, but it’s so slow to rise in the pale morning light, when you’re sluggish with sleep.

Emily’s eyes flutter open.

Shit, you freeze, your muscles stiffening.

You’re caught.

Suddenly you’re staring into dark chips of obsidian, clouds of sleep swirling through them. At first Emily gives no reaction, but then her brain evidently catches up and her eyes widen, her fingers letting go of your shirt.

Just before you apologize, she does.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts. Her voice is raspy and you fight the shiver before it travels down your spine. “I get really—”

“Clingy,” you mumble. “Yeah, I know. It’s obvious.” Your voice is soft, mainly because you’re too tired to fight with your own demons so early in the morning.

“I’m really sorry,” Emily whispers again, mortified. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink as she retracts her arm and her leg, curling back into her side of the bed. The sheets she leaves behind are warm, and you fight the urge to place your hand where she once was.

“S’okay. You do it with everyone, I know that.” Then, because it’s the morning and your brain is half asleep and still fogged from holding her, you ask, “Why not with me, though?”

Her teeth chew down on her lip. “Why not you, what?” She mumbles.

“Emily,” you sigh, “it’s too early for you to mess with my head. You know what.”

Emily gives a sigh of her own. She doesn’t look at you as she fiddles with the hem of her tank top and drags it back down, hiding the exposed sliver of her torso. It doesn’t help that your eyes follow her movements, because her shorts have ridden up her thighs.

“It means…more when it’s you.” She eventually says, her voice quiet. Your breath hitches and she continues looking down, frowning at the hem of her tank top. “Everything does. Can’t touch you like that and pretend it means nothing.”

The slight slur to her voice makes her confession all the more intimate. As does her bed head, the red sleep lines on the underside of her arm. This is a soft Emily, a vulnerable one, and she’s laying herself bare for you in the morning light while sleep still lingers in both your eyes.

It only confirms your love for her.

Your relief is palpable; it quickly shifts to affection, something flowery crowding the back of your throat and making it hard to swallow. She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t think you’re disgusting or repulsive.

She couldn’t touch you because it would give her away. Because it’s the most genuine aspect of her, one she can’t dampen or hide any more than she can stop her heart from beating.

It seems almost too big a revelation for this small hotel room bathed in morning light. Still, your hand reaches for hers. You wrap your fingers around her own, both of them now resting gently on her stomach.

“It doesn’t have to mean nothing.” You whisper.

Emily’s eyes snap to yours. They’re like the black, bitter coffee you have no choice but knock back in precincts all over the country. They make your heart race, because they come closer—she comes closer—until both your heads are resting on the same pillow again. Emily cups your joint hands with her free one, reverently protecting the tenderness of your touch.

“You’re…” Her breath hitches and she falters, then sucks in a breath, “You’re telling me you want this?”

You squeeze her fingers. “More than anything.”

Emily blows out a low sigh. You bring your free hand up to trace the curve of her brow; she leans into it. “I do, too.” She confesses. “More than anything.”

Your thumb travels down to the corner of her mouth. “Then there’s nothing stopping us. Is there?” You ask gently.

“No.” Emily sighs. “Nothing.”

She tilts her head, lets you continue exploring her face with your fingertips. Her features are gently traced; the bridge of her nose and the outline of her lips and the shape of her brows. Slowly, her knee worms its way between both of yours.

You smile and Emily smiles back, a shy dimple in her cheek.

“Be clingy. With me,” you murmur, keeping your voice low because you’re afraid love already spills from it, “I want you to be.”

Her nose nuzzles into your cheek. “You’ll soon regret saying that.” Emily mumbles, the vibration of her voice reverberating through your skin. It fills you with strange peace.

“Never.” You whisper.

Until the alarm rings, the two of you spend your time erasing away the boundaries, learning the lines of each other’s bodies with your fingertips with slow confidence.

Because now, you have all the time in the world.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss blurb #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #fic

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solaireverie · 1 year

Text

lh44 | all eyes on you, my magician

pairing: lewis hamilton x f!merc admin!reader

summary: [ social media au ] lewis has a soft spot for the person behind the mercedes account and is a little obvious about it

warnings: one (1) swear word

faceclaim: maisie peters

author's note: it's been a hot minute (two years) since i've written x reader or social media aus, bear with me :) enjoy!

liked by roscoelovescoco, lewishamilton, yourusername and 704,172 others

tagged: lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco

mercedesamgf1 very important good boy(s) appreciation post ❤️

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roscoelovescoco love's the photos!

liked by mercedesamgf1, yourusername

user all i want to know is who took the first picture 🧐

↪ user same like who got you smiling like that lewis???

yourusername the cutest!! seeing roscoe was truly the highlight of my week

liked by roscoelikescoco, lewishamilton

↪ user lewis whatcha doing in the likes 🤨

↪ user it wasn't just lewis' main he also liked on roscoe's acc 😭 what is going on

↪ user so we're all taking this as yourusername seeing roscoe in person instead of through instagram like the rest of us peasants right?

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, yourusername and 814,283 others

tagged: lewishamilton, georgerussell63

mercedesamgf1 #throwbacktuesday to the spanish gp ⏮

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user lewis is so obviously admin's favorite that it's not even funny at this point 💀

↪ user poor george having to thirdwheel whatever admin and lewis have going on

liked by georgerussell63

↪ user george liked??? lewis and admin what do you have to say for yourself

↪ mercedesamgf1 no comment 😜

user okay now i'm curious who exactly runs the merc account?

↪ yourusername 🤭🤭🤭

liked by yourbestfriend, lewis hamilton, mickschumacher and 234 others

yourusername summer break dump 🌥

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roscoelovescoco we's misses you's!

↪ user we?? we???? roscoe hamilton explain yourself 🎤

↪ yourusername i miss you two too 🫶

↪ user you two???!!! 😳

carmenmmundt don't get attacked by an ostrich xoxo

↪ yourusername i stayed a safe distance away 🫡

↪ carmenmmundt good girl ❤️ proud of you for keeping my darling safe

↪ georgerussell63 ?????????????

liked by lewishamilton

↪ yourusername avert your eyes, georgie boy, avert your eyes

yourusername has added to their story

geotag: monaco

liked by yourusername, mercedesamgf1, carmenmmundt and 901,516 others

tagged: yourusername, mercedesamgf1

lewishamilton reunited at last 🤍

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user not lewis tagging both y/n and mercedes 😂

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63 hard launch much?

↪ carmenmmundt babe i'm pretty sure y/n's posts on the merc account counted as their soft launch 😉

liked by yourusername

yourusername happy to see roscoe again 🐶

↪ lewishamilton and me?

↪ yourusername you're okay too i guess... 🙄

↪ yourusername jk i love you to the moon and saturn 💗

liked by lewishamilton

user i want what they have (i've known about them for three hours)

mercedesamgf1 congratulations lewis and y/n 🌹

↪ susie_wolff toto wants me to inform you that that's not how you're meant to be using the account. that aside, i'm so proud of both of you! come to dinner soon 😊

↪ mercedesamgf1 tysm susie 🥰 and tell bossman that he can get on instagram himself if he wants to yell at me

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist

#solwriting #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau

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dollfacefantasy · 1 year

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Blue Jeans

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: request from @agent-dessis-posts - leon is looking extra fine in his jeans and when he gets out of the shower. you can't help if you stare... and maybe do a little more. i hope you enjoy!! (sorry i couldn't find a pic of him in jeans for the header)

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v

word count: 2k

a/n: hello fantasizers! (that's what i'm calling you guys now cause i am delusional) back again! thank you all for encouraging my flip phone delusions on my last post. this post is a request. if you sent me a request, know that i am working on it as fast as i can. just be patient with me pretty please :) as always i'm giving you 1000 smooches for your reblogs or comments (they really make me smile and laugh so tysm) <3

Leon looked extra good today. You didn’t think he did anything different to his look this morning, but something about him was hitting you just right today. It was like you couldn’t help but stare at him since he had come home from work. You were trying to get some of your own work done on your laptop at the dining table, but he was unknowingly making that a challenge for you.

He was reclined on the couch, sprawled across it with his arms behind his head, half-paying attention to whatever was playing on the tv. His thick biceps emerged from his tight white t-shirt and framed his face. The thin fabric did little to hide the definition of his toned abdomen and chest.

Your eyes trailed down his body from your place across the room, settling on his jeans. The way he filled them out was driving you a special kind of crazy today. His muscular thighs wrapped tight in that blue denim. You feel like you can practically see the outline of his dick against the material. Soon, he starts to sit up and you avert your eyes back to your screen.

Leon walks over to the kitchen, seemingly unaware of your ogling. He has his back to you while he surveys the fridge for a snack. You try not to drool as you continue to gawk at him. The muscles of his back were all but visible through that white shirt. But even better than that, your favorite part, his ass. Looking like it was sculpted by an actual god, you had to stop yourself from openly salivating over your boyfriend standing just a few feet away from you.

He turns around, again snapping you out of your lustful daze. This time, he catches it though. A slight smirk appears on his face.

“You know, honey, I could just give you a picture. You could clip it to your laptop, so that way you can at least pretend you’re working,” he says. So he had noticed.

“Oh shut up,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “Like you don’t want the attention. You’re laid up like a fucking Calvin Klein ad.”

“I never said I didn’t enjoy it,” he says, his smirk growing as he walks to you. He kisses the top of your head and rubs your shoulder in a way he knows will work you up.

You look up at him, half-unamused, half-needy. You wrap your arms around his waist from where you sit, sliding a hand beneath his t-shirt to feel his skin.

“Maybe, you could give me some attention in return. Might help me focus,” you suggest as you drag your nails lightly over his side.

“Nope, you’ve got to finish your work, and I’m going to shower,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you say before pinching his side and snaking your hand out of his shirt.

He lets out a quiet laugh and shakes his head. “Be good while I’m gone,” he teases.

“Mhm,” you hum. As he begins walking away, you smack his ass, your hand making a muffled clap against the denim-covered flesh.

He turns his head, also trying to seem unamused now, but you can see the love in his eyes. You smile innocently at him.

“Mhm,” he repeats sarcastically.

“I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go,” you tease as he exits the room.

It isn’t long before you hear the shower turning on in the master bathroom. It takes a minute, but with him out of the room, you’re able to focus enough to get a substantial amount of work done. You’re clacking away at your keyboard, lost in thought, not really noticing how much time has passed or that the shower has shut off.

Your concentration is shattered, however, when your personal work of art himself comes strolling past you into the kitchen with nothing on but a towel around his waist. It seemed like he was glistening, every muscle shimmering in the aftermath of his shower. The towel hung low on his waist, accentuating his v-line and exposing his happy trail. The smell of his shampoo engulfs you as he struts by without giving you a second look.

Internally, you felt like a cartoon character with your jaw dropped and tongue rolled out, an outline of your heart beating against your shirt. You try to keep it cool though and not let on how desperately you want him right now.

“Really?” you ask incredulously, “That’s how you wanna play?”

“Am I not allowed to walk through my own living room now because it distracts you?” he asks, “I know I’m pretty babe, but c’mon.”

You can hear that teasing lilt in his voice and it’s just stoking the flames of arousal inside you more. You close your laptop and stand up. Coming up behind Leon, you lace your arms around his waist and press your cheek to the warm skin of his back.

“You’re very pretty,” you agree, “My beautiful guy. Who’s also an attention whore.”

“I’m an attention whore for existing in your vicinity?” he asks, turning around in your hold so that he’s facing you. He returns the embrace and rubs your back with his thumb.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, you’re my attention whore,” you coo and squeeze your arms around him.

“I guess that’s ok then…” he says as he tilts your chin up and connects your lips in a soft kiss.

You return the affection, your need pouring through your actions. His scent overwhelmed you in such close proximity. You move your mouth with his while your hands glide down to his waist. A couple of your fingers slip beneath his towel, gently tugging it loose. The cloth starts to fall from his hips, but he catches the center, holding it so it still covers his length.

You break from kissing for a moment to catch your breath and take in the sight before you. The gray towel hanging between his legs, leaving his thighs and and hips exposed. You look him up and down, and your hands lower to his ass to feel up the muscles there.

“Like what you see?” he murmurs as you make out.

“Mhm,” you hum, not moving your lips away from his long enough to speak.

He backs the two of you up toward the counter, spins you around, and bends you over the cool marble. You feel both of his hands gripping your hips and the towel now crumpled on the floor against your ankle. He then slides his palms over your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a firm smack. Sliding himself between your legs, he rubs his semi-hard cock against you over your shorts.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he breathes, his voice raspier as he rocks his hips back and forth, “This what got you so hot when you’re supposed to be working?”

“What can I say? You’re irresistible,” you tease, but it comes out more as more of a moan than you intend.

“Cute,” he chuckles before pulling down your shorts and panties, letting them fall to the floor with his towel.

He drags his tip up and down your folds, teasing you as the head nudges your clit. You’re gripping the edge of the countertop as a whine falls from your lips.

“Baby, no more teasing,” you whimper.

“My eager girl. So impatient,” he says as he finally pushes himself inside of you.

You had been trying to think of a reply, but your thoughts get hazy as his cock fills you. You groan, and your head falls forward to rest against the smooth tile. That doesn’t last long because Leon’s hand is in your hair a second later, lifting your head back up and turning it slightly to face him.

“C’mon sweet girl, you were staring so much, now you can’t even keep your head up?” he grunts as he pumps in and out.

You whine and nod, letting his grip support the weight of your head. He smacks your ass again in time with a deep thrust and a strangled moan falls from your lips. You bite your lip as your eyes flutter.

“That’s right, baby. Let me clear that pretty little head so you can work. Can’t think straight unless you’ve had me inside you, yeah? It’s all you care about till you’ve had your fill,” he rasps and grips your hips harder.

His eyes roll back momentarily as your walls squeeze around him once his words sink in. You pulse and feel the hot coils of pleasure tightening in your stomach. He lets out what sounds like a growl at the feeling. The sounds of your skin meeting his fills the room as he picks up the pace.

“Getting close, angel?” he says and pulls you closer by your hair. Your back is arching and you straighten your arms to support yourself upright. You hear his heavy breathing directly in your ear and feel the hot air fanning your skin.

You frantically nod in response to the question.

“Well, not yet baby,” he says and pulls out of you. You whine, about to complain, but he turns you around and boosts you onto the counter. He slides back in with a groan. “No, none of that. Just wanna see that beautiful face when you cum.”

The new angle has him battering your sweet spots with renewed vigor. He’s got one set of fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh, holding it up so he has room to work his hips for you. His other arm is wrapped around you and supporting your position.

You’re breathlessly whimpering, one leg wrapped around his waist and a hand in his hair. Your skin felt hot against his while the counter felt cool on your ass, especially after you felt the sting of his hand there a few times.

You were already close in the previous position, so you’re barely able to hold it together now. He can tell from the way you’re wildly fluttering around him. Your breathing becomes more like gasps as you approach that familiar edge. His hand on your back slides up to your head and pulls you closer so that his face is in the crook of your neck when he lets out a primal sound that’s somewhere between a whine and a growl.

“You there, honey?” he asks against your skin.

“Mhm,” you hum immediately, nodding again.

“Me too, baby. Let go for me. Squeeze me nice and tight, just like that,” he says, his voice strained and breaking off into a whimper at the end.

You shudder against him and gasp before letting out a long, low moan as you cum. Your body twitches and your head tilts back slightly. He presses some sloppy kisses to your neck before grunting and biting his lip, a choked sound of pleasure emanating from his throat.

His hips sputter and his thrusts lose rhythm as he releases too. You feel his hot, thick cum flooding your insides, the sensation making you tremble with satisfaction. His fingers press hard against your skin while his forehead rests on your shoulder. You feel his ragged breathing on your skin. It’s slightly cool from the light sheen of sweat you’d worked up.

The two of you take a second to catch your breath before disconnecting and untangling your bodies.

“You feeling better now? Less distracted?” he teases, brushing some hair from your face and kissing your forehead.

“Mmm, yeah, but I think I have to take a shower now too,” you say with a grin. You peck his lips in return and then hop off the counter and playfully smacking his ass again.

“I don’t know. You still seem to have something else on your mind,” he says, his own smug smile returning, “I didn’t think my girl would be satisfied after one round. Maybe a few more and then I’ll join you for another shower.”

“I think I like your plan better,” you say as he grabs your wrist and pulls you off to the bedroom.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine

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ryanlovesjosh · 7 months

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은방울 Lily of the Valley

- I’ll give you something unforgettable… my love is “this” flower in your hands, Kyle.

IIIIII

Inspired PriceGaz piece by a song I listened some days ago; I legit couldn’t stop listening to it and being a complete sad bag sigh.

Song is “은방울 (Lily of the Valley) by DANIEL”

Alsooo, wanted to thank every like, reblog and followers on my last post!!! I posted it in mind of only sharing my love to PriceGaz to some fellow shippers, but wow, the outcome of it blew my mind. I didn’t expect this much love… sigh tysm from the bottom of my heart. 🥹❤️ xoxo!

#pricegaz #gazprice #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #john price #johnprice #captainprice #captain john price #cod #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #price x gaz #gaz x price #gaz recieved flowers from price #id die for them tbh #procreate #digital art #Spotify

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hatoddity · 7 months

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Tysm for all the likes & reblogs on the last jrwi post!! It’s currently my most popular post on this acc, I sincerely thank you all. I looked at most of the reblogs and saw people liking my Grefgor(e) design, so I gotta give the people more of what they want !!! :]]

#Jrwi #just roll with it #jrwi fanart #The suckening #jrwi suckening #Gefgore #Grefgor #Still don’t know which one #Shilo bathroy #emizel tucker #Armored pheasant #like if you squint it’s there #Emizel is there. He snores #‼️so sorry if the image quality is bad & I have no idea how to fix that‼️

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kitasuno · 2 months

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( ᐢ..ᐢ )⋆.ೃ࿔*･ thank u guys for all the love on my writing recently <3 there is nothing i love more than reading ur comments and reblogs !! tysm !!!!!!

anonymous asks are now open too. i swear i had them on but i just figured out my inbox today!

i thought i would share some brain rot i still have from my last suna fic, to be loved is to be known:

in the fic, suna was so surprised when you mentioned that atsumu gave you the courage to confess to kita because… atsumu was his #1 wingman!!!!

he’s definitely not stupid, and also very aware of reading people (or maybe just reading you) but all his common sense flies out the window when u mention liking kita

but when u bring up atsumu… the little suna brain-cells in his head REVIVE. fucking EXPLODE and his cogs start to turn.. and he’s like… wait a minute….

i mentioned that suna smells like blackberries and i was specifically thinking about the blackberry and bay cologne from jo malone! here are the notes from the official website:

Childhood memories of blackberry picking...A burst of deep, tart blackberry juice, blending with the freshness of just-gathered bay and brambly woods. Vibrant and verdant

(it smells so good btw. trust. trust me. suna smells delicious. i swear)

suna doesn’t mind little spooning

mobile gaming degenerate. twitter degenerate. likes wearing slides out and oversized zip up hoodies, he finds regular hoodies kind of annoying

suna reminds me of the song, fukakoryoku by vaundy

still uses wired apple headphones 4 the aesthetic

yes the family mart that suna and you frequent is in the middle ground to ur houses… yes he likes famichiki… no he doesn’t like the sausages but you’re obsessed with them so he says he loves them

idk if u guys know but family mart on twitter has these giveaways where if you retweet their post you have the chance to win a coupon or a free snack/food. and they choose like 10,000 people for winners! so when family mart drops a chance to win free sausages… suna makes.. 100 twitter accounts… to join the giveaway…. (yes this means 100 emails) (yes he is crazy) (yes he is free)

and yes ur on his private twitter. and suna private tweets about YOU on his PRIV bcuz he’s a LITTLE SHIT. so when u check ur phone after he confesses to U and u had lied and said u liked kita he does the whole Going Dark thing on twitter. tweets shit like this and thinks it’s so funny:

thank u guys again for indulging in my writing<3

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pedgito · 10 months

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𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?”

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not a kid—”

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

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

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

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

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

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

Just your luck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But, if I was?”

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

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

Worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

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

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted your company.

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

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

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

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

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

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

But, here he was, lusting after you.

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

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

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

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

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

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

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

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

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

Now who was the jumpy one?

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

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

Maybe you’d broken him.

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

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake.

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

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

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

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

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

Just enough.

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

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

Finally, he moves.

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

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

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

Like you’d been caught.

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

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

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, your turn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel, cut the shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

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

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

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

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

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

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel was safe, he was good.

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

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

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

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

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

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

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

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stxrrgirlz · 1 year

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🌙 ❜ ─ Cum

A/n: ahhhh tysm for 100🫶🏼 this took me longer than it was supposed too. Someone please send a request idk what to right I’m running out of ideas. Also 1,000 notes on my last post???? You all are angels!

ot8! X Reader

Wc: 1.1k

» Where do stray kids like to cum?

Warnings: please tell me if I miss anything, praise, big dicks,cum on stomach, mentions of marking, coming inside, cum eating,coming on your ass, coming on tits, cum on face, oral, face sitting, Dacryphilia, coming untouched, cowgirl, begging (Mentioned).

MDNI

Not proof read

Genre: smut, smut with no plot

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK ❤️

Bangchan ༉‧₊˚✧ + stomach

This man is going to play it safe all the way! You can’t convince me he’s going to cum inside you even if he does have a condom on. Does mind that he doesn’t get to cum inside though he loves how your body looks with his cum on it.

Chan slips into you letting out a guttural moan from your tight walls. You buried your head farther into the pillows at his length stretching you out so deliciously. His actions make you feel like your on cloud nine. That’s not counting his lips muttering pretty praises about how you were made for him and how well your taking his thick cock. He loves the way you deliciously squeeze around him every time he does a particularly deep thrust, hitting your sweet spot just right. You let out a particularly loud moan. Probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear. That’s when Chan knows your close your walls pulsating around his hard cock. He angels his hips deeper the final thrust sending you over the edge. He produces more shallow thrusts to help you ride out your orgasm, before he feels himself getting closer. With that he pulls out using his big hand to finish jerking himself off and letting out a few low groans before coming on your stomach. He eventually leans back after coming down from his high to look at his artwork. You following quickly behind him as he comes down from his high.

Lee know ༉‧₊˚✧ + inside you

This man 100% comes inside because he feels like he’s marking you making sure everyone else knows your taken. However he still will make sure your taking birth control. Also just enjoys the feeling of your raw walls.

His grip around your waist is almost to tight, almost. On the contrary It distracts you from the feeling of lee know bullying his fat cock all the way inside your tight gummy walls. He goes in inch by inch making sure you have time to adjust to his size. It was also quite hard for Lee know not to just bottom out inside you and start moving incredibly fast. Soon, it becomes increasingly hard to hold back. He doesn’t have to worry though because you finally have his whole length inside you. He starts moving at a extremely slow pace, almost teasing himself at the temptation. He finally gives in when you whimper a small “ more please”. He immediately starts thrusting at an almost ungodly pace if he wasn’t so needy he feels the way your walls clench around him. He’s so needy for you. He knew he couldn’t last more than a couple more second at the way your walls suck him in. He feels the snap in his gut before all his fluids come out come out and paint your walls.

Changbin༉‧₊˚✧ + ass

Mainly loves to cum on your ass because he loves doggy style and it’s the easiest after he pulls out but he also loves it because he feels like he just marked you. He also most definitely an ass man. Definitely takes a finger and tastes it after because he says it taste better on you.

The squelch’s of your pussy taking changbin in over and over again could be heard from throughout the whole house with how loud your wet n’ needy pussy was. You couldn’t care less, too lost in pleasure to notice any of your surrounding only focusing on changbin drilling his big dick into you. Changbin couldn’t get ahold of his surroundings either only wanting you to reach that orgasm you have been craving ever since he started prepping you to take him. Changbin leans down into your shoulder whispering a small praise into your ear. He knows the effect he has on you by the way you clench around him at the praise. You let out a high pitched moan when he hits your sweet spot followed by a string of curses. Changbin can also feel himself getting closer every time his flushed tip hits your sweet spot. He position changes again so he can bring both of you to an high. You slowly your high creeping up on you. Changbin thrusts a few more times before pulling out and coming on your ass. You following closely behind the cum leaking out of your abused cunt.

Hyunjin ༉‧₊˚✧ + face

Please give this man a blow job. Please. It’s going to give him the release he’s been wanting for so long. Will definitely tug your head down when he’s close. Will make you rub your pussy for him while your giving him a blowjob too.

Mean is what is was. Mean. You couldn’t believe your usually sweet and loving Hyunjin was treating you do rough, like a fucktoy. Though you can’t deny it did get you much wetter than intended: Hyunjin new this too, he knew by the way your hand snaked down to touch yourself when giving him a blow job. Hyunjin was enjoying this much more than he was willing to admit. The way your plush lips wrapped around his length. Giving kitten licks to lap up the pre cum seeping from his flushed tip. He couldn’t take anymore of your teasing, but when he knew you would look so much prettier chocking around his cock, tip hitting the back of your throat every thrust. He was right of course. The way tears streamed down your cheeks at hyunjins bulging cock. Hyunjin couldn’t lie he got off on seeing your puffy under eyes and flushed cheeks. Mouth occupied with Hyunjins length you had to find another way to release the ache in between your legs. Speeding up your fingers around your clit wanting to cum before Hyunjin. You moan around his cock vibrations bringing him closer to the edge than before. Soon you couldn’t handle it anymore as soon as you tip yourself over the edge the pornographic moan leaving your mouth fuels Hyunjin more than before Releasing his thick cum into your mouth before pulling out. You of course swallow it at Hyunjins command.

Han ༉‧₊˚✧ + tits

Pretty sure I’ve said this before but, this man is obsessed with your tits. If you give him a boob job he’ll be a changed man. Ride this man like your life depends on it. Cowgirl is probably his favorite position because he does no work and gets to touch your tits.

Bliss is the only word that could describe the feeling Han was having in the moment. The way your hips would quickly move up before slamming back down quickly on the base of his cock. Not only that but the way your tits bounced in front of hand face has him in a trance. His hands holding onto your hips,nails digging into your hips leaving crescent moon shapes. It was to much for him, he knew if you kept going he would reach his high quicker than he wanted to. Soon however, your thighs started burning from the work you had put in whine leaving your lips indicating you wanted Han to take over. He barely registered the whine coming out of your mouth, but he was to lazy to take on a few words come out of his lips egging you on until you both reached your highs. Now more than ever you wanted to reach your high, mainly so you could finally relax but also because you could feel your orgasm right on the tips of your fingers. Han uses his hands moving them from your hips to your breasts squeezing them tightly. One particular hard thrust sends you over the edge. You quickly pull off Han’s cock before using your hand to quickly finish him off, cum squirting up in between your plump tits Han has a thigh grip on. A Loud growl escapes Hans lips as he reaches his high.

Felix ༉‧₊˚✧ + anywhere

He ends up coming in whatever position hes in, weather that be your mouth,stomach, or even the sheets as he grinds into them. Mostly ends up with him coming untouched though because he’s busy eating you out. Definitely embarrassed after.

Felix couldn’t tell if it was plain or pleasure. Maybe both. The way his cock was twitching for release almost made him move his hands from his right grip on your thighs to touch his leaking cock but he resists as you grind your soaking cunt onto his nose. Nudging against your sensitive clit. Felix could swear he could cum untouched with the way you moan every time his tongue darts into your clit, or the way your hands grip tighter into his hair when he forces you down more for another taste of your sweet juices. He could spend his entire life between your thighs before getting board if he could ever get board. Another moan leaves your lips contributing to the noise in the room along with the squelch’s coming from your wet pussy and Felix’s pink tounge. Your juices tasted like heaven to him sweet like candy it made him obsessed. Grinding on his face made you feel the orgasm slowly inching closer to you by the second. Felix’s nose touching your sensitive clit on last time before your high is reached. The moans of you coming undone made Felix’s cock twitch more than he hoped it would. Using one hand too aggressively jerk himself off he reaches his high right behind you.

Seungmin ༉‧₊˚✧ + inside you

For some reason I can see him having a breeding kink. Even if he doesn’t realize that he likes coming inside you at first he’s going to cum inside you every time after he find out what it feels like.

Thankful is what Seungmin was after he found out how pleasurable it was to cum inside your pussy. It all started a few weeks ago when he was too lost in pleasure to realize how close he ways to finishing inside you. “ s-so close” the words whimpers out of his lips many times. He didn’t realize until after that he had came inside you. At first worried, but then relaxed when he felt your convulsing walls sucking him in for pleasure. He knew he couldn’t get enough. Overstimulated you for hours just to feel the way your walls would get more desperate for him each time. Now he was at it again thrusting his hips into your as you sit ontology of him, hands on his should but still lost with your eyes rolled back and tongue lolled out. Fast and deep thrust make both of you insanely close. Seungmin hips hitting yours and his cock plunging in and out of you, the sounds filling up the room could be in a porno the way you both sounded. Moans however bought both of you closer before Seungmin was able to hurry himself deep inside you before spilling his seed inside you painting your walls white.

I.N ༉‧₊˚✧ + ass

I fully believe he loves Doggy style. Mostly because it doesn’t take a lot of work but also because when he pulls out he gets to see his cum drip from his flushed tip onto your plush cheeks.

He couldn’t believe he didn’t start taking you like this sooner. The way your ass would stick up into the air had him in shambles. The way your ass would bounce every time he did a particularly hard thrust. It was killing him because of how good it was. The way your head was hurried into pillows, the way you were begging for him to speed up. He brings his hand down to your hair pulling it into a makeshift ponytail before lifting your head up so he could hear your moans better than before. Hearing them lit up something in his core willing him to grant your beg for more. Also trying to please himself at the same time. He lets go of your hair and moves your legs so he could get deeper than before, if even possible. Hard, aggressive thrusts, make the bed shake against the wall slamming into it many times. He could feel himself about to burst, holding back until you reached your high. Luckily seconds after you cum around his flushed cock. Pulling him self off not needing to use his hand before he comes on your red flushed ass.

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aericita · 4 months

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◟　﹒　 ◍　﹒　⁺food event　 ˚

as i said in my last event i’ll do another event when i hit 300, BUT i got 500 so tysm 💗💗

how to participate:

comment joining in the comments

reblog this tagging 3-5 moots

dm me a number 1-5

use #◟　﹒　 ◍　﹒　⁺food event　 ˚ when posting!

event rules:

tag me when posting or doesn’t count

you must use the food you get in your mb

deadline is june 12

95 percent of the mb must be made by you

using someone else’s div/loc is fine

anything posted after june 12 will not be counted

prizes:

first place - 125 reblogs (mb of your choice), 3 custom mbs

second place - 100 reblogs (mb of your choice), 2 custom mbs

third place - 75 reblogs (mb of your choice), 1 custom mb

honourable mentions - 25 reblogs (mb of your choice), 1 header

dm me to claim prizes

my tags: (feel free to ignore)

@h-aerins @compyuqiter @i-kyujin @y-vna @chuwerii @7hyein @hyelita @a-hyeons @khaer @gigittamic @p-osse @yuppijin @9haerin @i3vivi @melonitos @blu3hourz @minjubear @vvellona @khroem @chaeneuu @f-lustra @yeossemble @aiirene @k-yuris @soulari @aevrsie @alloraamore @yvesite @y-unrei

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python333 · 1 year

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task force 141 getting gaslighted by [reader] — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the title says, tf141 gets gaslighted by [reader]... nothing serious, dw!!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings gaslighting, but used in extremely stupid and unnecessary ways, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], probably ooc but i'm a little more confident in this one than the last one!

note i'm so sorry that this is so long... it's like 3k+ words :{ and the soap and gaz sections are a majority of those words LMAO also tysm to the people who reblogged my last post?? thats so sweet?? im crying?? it was my first post too so i was just hdjsfhjdhsfjf tysm tysm!!

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ price is basically your dad atp.

➥ so it’s safe to say he knows about pretty much all of your weird little antics and shenanigans.

➥ this includes your tendency to gaslight people about the stupidest shit possible.

➥ trust him, he was a victim of this.

➥ the first time it happened, it was just too perfect of an opportunity for you to pass up.

➥ price was trying to eat his food in the mess hall, when you had sidled up right next to him at the small table he was eating at, and commented on his food choice.

➥ “Oh, nice. We got the same thing.” you’d said, setting down your tray of chicken, rice, and potatoes right next to price’s bowl of soup.

➥ at first, he thought you were just joking, and gave you an amused look and commented something along the lines of you being blind because you absolutely did not get the same thing as him.

➥ you take your gaslighting very seriously. this is not a joke.

➥ so you insist that you did in fact get the same thing, and you shoot a very confused look at him for good measure. your definitely-serious tone throws price off, because there’s no way you could possibly think you both actually got the same thing…

➥ … right?

➥ cue the rest of your lunch being spent alternating between eating your food and arguing that, “But we did get the same thing!” while price can only counter with, “No we did not!”

➥ now you may think that this is the point where you give up.

➥ it absolutely is not.

➥ see, price’s first mistake was giving you leeway to argue with him over this. his second mistake was suggesting that you ask someone to come over to the table and settle this by telling you both if you did get the same thing for lunch.

➥ naturally, you chose soap, because who else would encourage your bullshit with the same enthusiasm he does?

➥ long story short, he agrees to come over and settle the very weird argument you’ve started with price, and takes a very close look at both you and price’s chosen food items for the day and after you shoot him a glance that tells him everything he needs to know he confidently says, “Aye, these’re the same.”

➥ price has never recovered from the crisis he had after that entire interaction.

➥ so, the next time you do it, he knows exactly what to do.

—

When you sat down next to Price during lunch, he immediately got a sense of deja vu. Which is weird, because you sit next to him everyday, so what could possibly be different about today?

“Oh, nice. We got the same thing,” you’d commented offhandedly, setting down your tray of food, of which was just about the direct opposite of Price’s meal. Oh, so that’s why I feel like this has happened before. Price stared at your tray for a moment, flashbacks running through his mind, recalling his trauma from the last time this happened.

Then finally, cautiously, he agreed, “... Yeah. Whatta coincidence.”

You didn’t know if you should feel disappointed, happy, or shocked by him agreeing with you this time. You were fully prepared to pull Soap and Gaz aside to take a look at both of your trays of food and agree that they were the exact same meal, down to the portion sizes and everything. After a quick moment of thinking, you smile at him with the most innocent smile you can muster and eat your food, ignoring the sigh of relief Price lets out when you don’t begin to argue with him.

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ actively enjoys being gaslighted.

➥ in the sense of like, how many ways can he defend himself in ways you can’t argue with?

➥ he’s like the gaslighting victim version of markiplier with the whole ‘i’m not a masochist, i just wanna see how much pain i can handle’.

➥ so safe to say he very much encourages your gaslighting.

➥ the first time and only time you ever gaslighted him was when you were both hanging out in his room, both of you on your phones, soap watching ‘my babysitter’s a vampire’ after you told him you thought he’d enjoy watching it, and you scrolling through social media to pass the time.

➥ then, you got an idea.

➥ “Soap?” soap perks up at the sound of his name and hums in acknowledgement of you talking to him, “Have you finished that show I recommended to you yet?”

➥ “Nah, I’ve still got a few episodes left.” he’d responded.

➥ “Really? What season are you on?”

➥ “The last season, season two.”

➥ “... What do you mean the last season?”

➥ you two go back and forth, with you insisting that no, you told him to watch ‘the vampire diaries’, not ‘my babysitter’s a vampire’.

➥ the entire thing goes on for at least thirty minutes before soap sighs and insists that you’d told him to watch ‘my babysitter’s a vampire’ one last time, and you finally break.

➥ you break out into a small fit of laughter, and stop yourself to take a deep breath and admit, “Yeah, I did.”

➥ honestly, soap is very impressed by your determination to manipulate him. 10/10 would encourage you to do it again. in fact, will help you gaslight anyone you so please.

—

You and Soap were sitting in his room, him on the bed and you on the floor sitting down on one of his pillows. You’d just been scrolling through any and all apps you had, even going through your photos app, bored out of your mind, when you suddenly got an idea. You turned off your phone and looked over at Soap.

“Soap?” He tapped on his phone screen to pause the show he was watching and hummed, looking over at you. “Have you finished that show I recommended to you yet?”

“Nah, I’ve still got a few episodes left,” he’d answered, sitting up and cracking his knuckles.

“Really?” you’d asked, feigning confusion, “What season are you on?”

“The last one, season two,” he replied, showing you his phone screen. You looked at it for a moment before drawing your eyebrows together in pseudo-confusion.

“... What do you mean the last season?” you’d asked, “There’s eight seasons.”

“Uhh…” Soap looked back at his phone screen, confused, and tapped his screen a few times before he shook his head, “Nay, there’re two seasons, c/n.”

“Are you watching the right show?” you’d asked, watching as Soap nods confidently, and yes. You had set down your phone, ready for this new form of entertainment.

“Yeah. My Babysitter’s a Vampire, right?” he said, hoping for confirmation that he’s watching the correct show. You slowly shake your head negatively.

“No, I told you that you should watch Vampire Diaries,” you’d clarified, watching as Soap started to disagree.

“Nay, ye told me tae watch the Babysitter one,” Soap argued, quickly pulling up his text messages with you, “I reckon I’d ken if ye told me tae watch Vampire Diaries.”

“Well, I did,” you argued back, “I told you, verbatim, ‘hey you should watch Vampire Diaries, I think you’d really like it, since you like making fun of old 2000s shows with me’. I texted you yesterday about it.”

Soap raised an eyebrow before he’d turned his phone to you, showing you your text messages from yesterday, where you definitely did not tell him to watch Vampire Diaries. You took a good look at the text messages, before looking up at Soap, concerned, “Are you okay? That clearly says what I said it says.”

Soap looked baffled, and it took everything in you not to laugh, “Nay, ye messaged me tae watch the Babysitter one, so I’m watchin’ the Babysitter one!”

You two went back and forth, arguing over what the text actually said. You’d constantly deny everything Soap saw and he’d argue back in the most flabbergasted tone that ‘Nay, it’s richt there, I ken I’m no’ goin’ daft!’ and you argued back that he’s definitely seeing things because how could he possibly be reading the text but see completely different words than what it actually says?

Eventually, you both stopped arguing, taking time to catch your breaths. You had taken one look at Soap’s miserable facial expression before breaking out into a small fit of laughter, giggles spilling from your lips as you tried to muffle them by putting your hand over your mouth.

“Ye ‘nd I baith ken that the text says you want me to watch My Babysitter’s a Vampire,” Soap breathed out, watching you try and muffle your laughter.

After you’d taken a moment to catch your breath, you admit, “Yeah, I know.”

Soap’s eyes widened and he immediately said, “So ye admit it?”

You nodded affirmatively and he groaned, flopping back down onto the bed, the action having made you giggle even more. “Ye’re a bampot,” he’d grumbled, though there was no serious anger or irritation behind his words.

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ now why would you even try this, huh?

➥ have you MET the dude?

➥ he absolutely will not fall for it.

➥ he won’t encourage it, won’t argue with you, in fact he’ll shut you down with a simple “No.”

➥ you’re too scared to even try again after the first time you tried it.

➥ the first time you tried to gaslight him, you were both just walking down the hall together.

➥ you tried convincing him that gaz was off on a mission when you had just passed by him.

➥ the look he gave you… my god.

➥ “No he isn’t.” i’m so sorry please let me jump off a cliff i’m sorry i made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment and i don’t expect to be forgiven i’m simply here to apologize mr. simon ghost riley lieutenant sir.

➥ you never try to gaslight him ever again.

—

You thought it was a good idea at the time. You don’t know what drugs you were on or what meds you were off, but you decided that, yeah, I can totally gaslight Ghost with no repercussions, that’s definitely possible. So here you are, walking right beside him, the both of you going to completely different locations but he doesn’t need to know that.

When you first sidled up to him, walking by his side down the hall, he looked over at you for a moment and was just a bit confused but didn’t say anything otherwise. The two of you passed by Gaz, who was minding his business just walking past the two of you. He gave you both a quick nod and you made a point to nod back, not only out of respect but because you thought it would make your gaslighting session just that much better.

Just a minute after passing Gaz, you sighed and commented, “Can’t believe Gaz is on that super long mission right now. Two weeks is crazy.”

Ghost had slowly turned his head towards you, a sight that made your stomach drop because oh God I definitely fucked up, and simply said, “No he isn’t. We just saw him.”

I think I just shit my pants. “Y- yeah, right, right, definitely, no clue what I was thinking,” you blurted out, stumbling over your sentences because oh my GOD I’m gonna piss myself why is he so scary lord have mercy on my soul. Ghost raised an eyebrow at you, before huffing out a small laugh and continuing his walk, amused by your sputtering. You let out a sigh of relief as he simply walked away, and you headed in the correct way of where you're supposed to go, completely chickening out of your original plan.

—

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

➥ oh that poor poor boy.

➥ probably gives into it and just lets you gaslight him tbh.

➥ like maybe if your argument/gaslighting isn’t too strong he’ll argue with you, and sure he still won’t win but it was worth a try, but if you’re gaslighting-gaslighting him? he’s just gonna agree with you.

➥ like at that point anything you say is law and he is a law-abiding citizen.

➥ if your argument is strong enough and he’s tired enough he will genuinely believe you, too.

➥#savegazfromreader

➥ the first time you tried to gaslight him, it was pretty easy. you two had just finished sparring, with you coming out on top, much to your own surprise. gaz had given you a lighthearted pat on the shoulder and went off to shower, when you had the best idea you’ve ever had.

➥ you had groaned and playfully complained, “I can’t believe you won that.”

➥ gaz turned around, confused, and was like, “Won what?”

➥ cue the next 5 minutes being spent by you saying that gaz had won and arguing with him that he did win.

➥ “Honestly, you don’t have to lie and say I won. I appreciate that you don’t want me to feel bad, but I can take a loss.”

➥ hes so confused omg.

➥ starts gaslighting himself into thinking he won, then he’s like ‘wait no i didn’t’.

➥ but he still goes along with it because… what else is he supposed to do?

➥ ever since then he’s been your main gaslighting victim, and your favorite.

—

You hated the feeling of being sweaty, but you hated the feeling of someone else’s sweat even more. Maybe that’s what tripped you up that day, letting Gaz swipe his leg underneath yours and force you to fall down onto the mat beneath you, where he then started counting to ten, as per usual with sparring. But luckily for you, you were able to grab his ankle and yank it towards you, making Gaz fall on his ass and letting you straddle his chest and begin to count to ten just as he was doing earlier.

Of course, you dramatized your counting, because who would you be if you didn’t? You emphasized every number and your lips twitched into a small smile as you watched Gaz scoff and look away from you, clearly fed up with your theatrics. Once you were done counting, you got up and held out a hand for Gaz, who took it and got up, letting out a huff and patting you on the shoulder.

“Good job,” He’d said, smiling down at you, stepping off the mat and walking over to the bag of stuff he’d brought with him. After that small interaction, you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to gaslight him. It’s not your fault! Who else would pass up an opportunity like this?

You groaned and stepped off the mat, muttering, “I can’t believe you won that. I really though I had you.”

“Won what?” Gaz questioned, looking back at you, confused.

“The spar?” You answered, though you made your answer sound more questioning, as if confused on why he’d even question your words. As if it was obvious that you hadn’t won. Gaz simply looked at you, very confused, trying to figure out if you’re joking or not. By the serious look on your face—a poker face you’ve worked on for the longest time—he figured that you weren’t not kidding, which worries him a bit.

”... No, you won that spar,” Gaz insisted, before nervously joking, “Remember? Thirty seconds ago, when you kicked my arse after I thought I had you down?”

“Honestly, you don’t have to lie and say I won,” You laughed, walking over to Gaz and patting him on the back, “It’s not like I’m a sore loser or anything like that. I can take a loss.”

He was so confused, and continued to insist that you had won the small sparring match, and got more and more confused the more you fought with him on this. He was so sure that you had won—you did, didn’t you?

He eventually just sighed, and ‘admitted’ that you were right, he did win. Satisfied, you smiled up at him and reminded him that you can take a loss, and you went on with your day. And if you heard him asking Price if he could go through the security cameras for a moment, requesting to go back to that specific time the two of you had sparred, no you didn’t.

#cod #cod hcs #hcs #taskforce 141 #task force 141 #tf141 #tf141 x reader #platonic #platonic taskforce141 #task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #again...... fucking hate tagging #listen i love tagging on ao3 but #tumblr is a diff story #tags are my diary fr

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