Pre Negan Rick Will Do It For Me Every Time! 🥵

This is the most wholesome thing on the internet.

They think it's a baby cow 🥹

“I Should Like to Worship You Tonight”

This is probably (definitely) the most niche smut I’ve ever written, or even daydreamed up. I grew up in the Bible Belt and Feature Films for Families were a staple in our home. Rigoletto (1993) was my favorite. I’m a sucker for a Beauty and the Beast themed story, and the music was so beautiful. And of course, as an adult, I’m wildly attracted to the MMC. (Confession - I find that with any BatB story, I tend to prefer the “Beast” before his transition in the end. What does that say about me? Maybe I’ll ask my therapist.) I recently rewatched the movie a thousand times, and I have a whole fic plotted out with stories before this one, but I needed to get this one out of my head an onto “paper.” I hope someone enjoys my warping of a family movie into something not family friendly at all. ;-)

It had been three nights since I was last alone with him, my brooding master of the manor. Three nights since I’d somehow mustered the courage, or maybe it was simply a lack of inhibition?, to boldly confess how my body ached for his touch and burned with the thought of his lips trailing kisses down every bare inch of my skin.

My work had certainly suffered in the days following, constantly drifting into a daydream -memory, really- of the passion that followed . I’d find myself forgetting why I entered a room, not knowing how long I’d been standing there staring at nothing, or holding an item I didn’t remember picking up. The trance his touch had left me in… the spell I was under… it was incurable and unbreakable, save one remedy.

As I tiptoed through the dark manor, conscious of every little sound, my heart racing at who might be around the next corner, who might catch me on my secret quest, I prayed he was awake and as hungry as I.

I’d had little opportunity to be near him, and none at all to be alone with him since that night. Hans, the ever loyal manservant, had -unfortunately- finally recovered from his days long illness that had allowed me such closeness with Ari to begin with. I’d made sure to tiptoe past his door first, where I was relieved to hear him snoring like a bear.

As I descended the last few stairs to the main foyer, the door to his study and music room in sight, my prayer was answered. He was awake, and playing his pianoforte, as he did more often than he didn’t. It was his most beautiful quality, although his voice rivaled it, and the songs he made the instrument sing often filled the halls of this enormous house. I had been haunted from my first day here with the enchanting loneliness of the tunes that seemed to pierce straight to my soul. As the days went on, though, they turned to somewhat brighter notes, lonely but with a tinge of hope. From there they drifted into scores of longing, an unrequited love. Since our union three nights ago, the halls had been filled with lovely romantic tunes, sometimes sultry and passionate, sometimes light and airy like rays of sun slipping through the trees in the early morning hours. It was this type of tune I followed now, my bare feet padding lightly on the wooden floors.

I slipped through the sliding door of his study, silently closing it behind me, and through the open doors into the room beyond I saw him, his long, dark hair shining in the gentle candlelight. I could see the shadows dancing on the scars of his face as he moved with the music. I thought to walk over and touch them, to caress the evidence of all the pain of his previous life. But tonight, I was feeling a bit playful.

As his tune drifted like those morning rays of light over a misty field, warming and awakening something deep within me, I began twirling and moving with the rhythm. I have never been accused of being a lovely dancer, but I felt graceful as I lightly moved across the room. I stopped in front of the bay window, opening the curtains to let the rays of moonlight in. The beauty of the full moon illuminating the front courtyard gave me pause and for a moment I was lost in the night, with the low, beautiful melody of his song in the background.

I don’t know how long it had been, but I suddenly became aware that the music had stopped some time ago. I turned my back to the window and found him still at the piano, but with his hands stacked on his cane, watching me. I had the feeling he’d been staring at me for quite a while, and the feeling brought a blush to my cheeks. I felt bared naked, though I was still wrapped in my silk robe.

“You are a goddess,” Ari finally broke the silence.

I smiled shyly at him, trying to think of something clever and flirty to reply. My words failed me as he rose. The light tap of his cane filling the quiet room as he moved slowly toward me.

He towered over me, his gaze piercing mine, as he held my chin between his thumb and forefinger. I closed my eyes, desperately wanting him to close the distance between our lips, to start our dance together.

His hand left my chin and as I opened my eyes in confusion, I felt the belt of my robe tugged undone. As he slipped it from my shoulders, baring my completely naked body, my breath caught in my throat.

“I should like to worship you tonight,” he continued his thought, his eyes raking over every inch of my moonlit form.

His hand found my waist and gently pushed until my back touched the window, a gasp escaping my mouth at the shock of the cold glass on my skin.

He grinned devilishly at the sound, and using his cane for support, made his way down onto his good knee. Before I could make another sound, he’d lifted my leg and draped it on his shoulder, baring my flower to his hungry gaze.

He began with slow, warm kisses at the top of my thigh. It tickled and I giggled, but ran my hands through his thick hair in encouragement. His kisses moved inward, finding my petals, and the tickles quickly turned to tingles. He moved inward still, his lips finding the center of me, and his kisses became sucks. His tongue began making long, lazy strokes, and I knew I was dripping wet from more than his mouth. My groans could not be stifled as he continued, alternating between sucks, licks, and kisses.

The sudden sensation of fingers entering me caused a yelp of pleasure, and I felt him smile against me before continuing his skilled work. His fingers moved as expertly as his tongue, and I soon felt the crescendo of an orgasm building within me. My hands tugged in his hair, my back arching away from the window and pushing my core further onto his face. His remaining hand cupped my ass, and as he forcefully sucked one long time, I unraveled against him, gasping sharply and exhaling his name, “Ari”.

He was gentle as he continued his work while I came down from my high, and when he finally set my leg down and rose, his own arousal was evident under his robe.

He stopped me when I moved to reach for his erection, more than willing to return the favor. He smiled as he kissed me, moving my hand to his face.

“I said I would like to worship you tonight,” he whispered onto my mouth, “how should you like to be worshiped next?”

I kissed him deeply, and then led him by the hand back to his piano bench.

“With the piano, I think,” I said, giving him a sincere smile.

The melody he played will follow me the rest of my days- it’s beauty, I’m convinced, can never be matched.

The End Will Justify It All - Chapter 3

A Negan Series

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Warnings - not too much in this one. Adult themes and some language.

Feedback is always welcome! This series is challenging me for sure, and I'm loving it. Every time I work on it it gets a little longer and starts heading a direction that was unexpected even to me. I hope you'll hang in with me! I think it'll be worth it in the end.

Three days. That’s how long she’d been here. Three days of watching, waiting, learning. Three exhausting days of pretending to want to be one of them and taking advantage of every second alone to search for Daryl, which hadn’t been many. Between the dinners with Negan, and being stuck in the wives’ room, she had only had a few hours yesteday and today to explore. Three damn days in the enemy’s home and all she had to show for it was a wedding ring. Married to a monster.

She had searched every hall she could reasonably claim that she’d gotten lost in while looking her room, or the bathroom, or the kitchen, or whatever else she could think of. After three days, that excuse was losing merit - she should be more familiar with this place by now. Her heart was racing as she tiptoed, barefoot, down another empty hall of closed doors, quietly trying each doorknob. Locked. Locked. Locked. Leaning her ear against the doors, she couldn’t hear anything or anyone inside.

She tried the next. Another locked door. She was starting to lose heart; this hall was yet again a dead end. Would she ever find where they were keeping him? She twisted the next knob – locked. She sighed, glancing at the next door, when something caught her eye. Light. Two doors down at the corner of the corridor, streaming into the hall from…an open door? She flattened herself against the door in front of her, quieting her breath and listening for any sound of someone in the open room. After several minutes frozen there, she tiptoed closer, stopping every few steps to listen again. As she approached, she noticed a red chair against the opposite wall. It sat empty, facing the open door. Flattened against the wall at the edge of the door she paused one last time, before slowly creeping around to peer in.

The apartment before her was small. There was a sink and counters against one wall, a single bed, a chair, and a metal rack of clothes – mostly flannel button down shirts. No people. She ducked inside to get a better look. The apartment was well stocked. A toaster oven, a tv, lamps, a bookcase full of books, and she noticed a few potted plants. The furniture was well used, but slightly dusty. There was no evidence of anything personal in this room, nothing bought or collected like the other rooms she’d snuck into. No evidence anyone had been here recently. This room was waiting for an inhabitant, she realized. She was about to turn and leave when she heard footsteps coming around the corner. Low voices, male, were growing closer.

Her heart racing, she quickly surveyed the room again, this time searching for the best hiding spot. Under the bed wasn’t an option, the mattress was laid on stacks of wood crates. There were not enough clothes on the rack to hide behind. The cabinets on the wall were too small for her to fold into. The footsteps were getting closer, she only had one option.

She ducked behind the solid door just as she heard a voice greet the approaching steps. “Dwighty boy” she heard, and dread filled her. That was Negan’s voice.  He instructed someone to leave so he could speak with Dwight, and she heard rustling of steps outside the door. She squeezed in close and peeked through the crack of the open hinged door. Her heart stopped.

There he was. Daryl. Three days, not even a hint or whisper of him, and now here he was, less than four feet away from her.

---

She’d hoped when Negan had agreed on her first night to let her try out for the Saviors that she’d be able to ask someone about Daryl. Or that she’d be able to talk to any of them at all, learn anything about the place. She’d had no such luck.

She awoke on her second day in the Sanctuary hopeful and eager to start exploring. She dressed in the most practical clothes she could find in her wardrobe, and even asked the guard at the wives’ door for some boots. He’d obtained them for her, just in time to dawn them before… sitting. And waiting. And waiting. She asked him if she’d been sent any instructions on where to go or who to meet with about training or a job. He told her that her orders would come. So, she’d continued to wait.

The wives had pulled her into different activities in the meantime. Scrabble was a favorite of Frankie’s, and they introduced her to their “spa day” ritual, which she gathered was every day. Homemade face masks, manicures, makeup before dinner. It seemed expected of them to be beautiful, and at least it was a way to pass the time. Her impatience grew, however, with every hour that passed. Each wife often left the dorm to walk around the compound, getting some movement and some air, or smoke a cigarette. They seemed to have unquestioned access to wherever they needed to go. She took advantage of that when it was obvious that she wouldn’t be missed. She’d come up empty handed on those brief searches, and each time she returned, she’d asked the guard if her orders had come. He’d just shook his head.

By the time the instructions came for her to join Negan for dinner a second night, she was fuming.

She stomped into his apartment with as much attitude as her high heels would allow, her arms crossed, demanding to know why she had been cooped up in that room all day when he’d agreed to let her be part of a Savior team.

Negan’s answering smile didn’t meet his eyes, and it made her uneasy.

“Good evening to you, too,” he drawled, holding out her chair at the table for her. “Would you like to eat before you continue to rip me a new asshole, or should we do this on empty stomachs?”

She huffed as she sat and began piling her plate with the potpie in front of her.

“We’ve only been married for a day and you’re already angry with me?” Negan teased her.

She willed herself calm and forced an apologetic smile on her face. She needed to stay on his good side, throwing a fit this early might raise questions or make him change his mind about her access. She needed Negan to trust her.

“I’m sorry,” she began, “I have always had a quick temper. I told you, I’m not great at sitting around. I got impatient. I apologize.”

Again, his answering smile didn’t meet his eyes, but he seemed satisfied with her apology.

“I’d like to play a game to start our evening,” he said after a quiet few minutes of eating. “To get to know one another a little better. We are married now, after all.”

“What game?” she asked around a mouthful.

“A drinking game,” he replied, standing and walking to his bar cart in the corner. When he returned, he brought two shot glasses and a decanter of an amber colored liquid.  “I’ll ask you a question, and if you answer - honestly - you get to ask me a question in return. If you don’t answer, or if I think your answer is unsatisfactory, you take a shot and I get to ask another question.”

“I see. And do the same rules apply to you?”

“Sure,” he replied, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I take the rules of games very seriously.”

This made her nervous. She had no way of knowing what he would ask. She could always skip the question if she didn't like it, but too many questions skipped would certainly raise suspicions. She steeled herself as she took her last few bites of food, preparing for the worst.

When she raised her head, she found Negan watching her. She nodded and plastered a smile to her face.

“Sounds sexy. Let’s play.”

He grinned as he poured two shot glasses of the drink and slid one across the table to her.

“My first question,” he said, “is how long were you part of Rick’s group?”

She silently released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She felt a little relief at how simple the question was. She recounted the basic story of coming upon Rick's group in a small church in Georgia several weeks before they found Alexandria, and traveling with them to Virginia, looking for the family of one of their guys.

“How did you all find Alexandria?” Negan asked as her short story came to an end.

“I think it’s my turn for a question,” she teased him, “unless you want to skip that do a shot?”

He grinned in response and gestured for her to ask her question.

This was more pressure than answering. It was a good opportunity to get information, maybe even find out where Daryl is, if she could ask casually enough... She would have to be very careful how she approached it. She decided to start slowly, not too eager to get telling information from him.

“How many communities do you have working for you?” She asked, after some contemplation. Maybe a train of questions that make her seem curious about his operation would seem less suspicious when she got to Daryl.

“A lot,” he answered proudly, “I won't waste time counting them all. It’s a lot though. It has to be, to feed all our people.” A lot. There were a lot of other communities nearby. Potential allies. She filed that information away for later.

“How did your group find Alexandria?” He asked again, now that it was his turn.

“They found us. Their scouts had been watching us on the road. All but starved to death, desperate, and nearly feral. They took us in and gave us jobs. Have you always been the leader of the Saviors?”

Negan’s dark eyes stared at his glass for a long minute. She wasn’t sure he was going to answer, when he finally said, “No, but the guy before me was weak, he didn’t know what he was doing. It’s been me for long enough, and we’re all better for it. You’ve seen what we’ve become. I got us here.”

There was a pause as she took in what he said. He wasn’t wrong. She didn't really want to be here, but she had to admit that it worked. People were safe and fed, and there was a sense of order. Had she found this before Rick’s group, she wouldn’t have hesitated to become part of it.

“If you only got there a month ago, how did Rick end up in charge?” Negan asked.

“Who said Rick was in charge?” she countered.

Negan gave her a pointed look.

“It wasn’t on purpose, necessarily. There was an attack from some crazy outside group – not your guys. A bunch of walkers got past the walls; lost a lot of people - including the town’s leader. Rick is just the sort of guy that others follow, so the natural option was for him to step into the role.”

She hesitated a moment. “What’s your plan for them?” she asked, risking the question. Hoping it felt like an organic follow up. Negan drained his shotglass, not giving anything away. Damn. “What’s your plan for Daryl?” she was risking even more, now, but she wasn’t sure she’d have an opening again.

“I lost a lot of good fighters,” he answered. “I need more, and I like his spirit. He’ll make a great Savior once I wear him down.” She buried the dread that rose in her at his words and willed her heart to stop pounding.

Now his turn, Negan asked her “Who is Rick’s secondhand man?”

Realization hit her like a slap to the face. She should have guessed sooner his purpose for playing this game. She’d been blind, too focused on her own agenda to bother considering his. She’d have to be more careful about her answers now. If she revealed too much about Rick or Alexandria, she could put her friends in even more danger.

“All these questions about Rick…” she said, with a raised eyebrow and a hint of seduction in her voice, “I’m starting to feel a little jealous…” She took her glass and threw the shot to the back of her throat. She coughed a little as she swallowed. Whiskey had always done that to her.

Negan searched her face before grinning and continuing, “I would hate to have my new wife feeling neglected this soon. Tell me, what did you do before the world fell?”

“That's more like it,” she said with a slight curl of her lip. “Although a little difficult to answer. I worked a lot of jobs; I was putting myself through grad school. Took as many part-time jobs as I could.  I had two semesters left, and was already working on my thesis when the outbreak began.”

“Psychology,” she added, as she saw him start to speak again. He confirmed that was his next question with a slight nod of his head. “Same question to you,” she asked, settling back in her chair to keep the room from spinning. She hadn’t done a shot in ages, and her time on the road left her smaller than she ever was during her college partying era. Another shot or two and she wasn’t sure she could trust herself to answer anymore questions.

“I worked with kids,” Negan responded. “Gym teacher and coach.”

She didn’t try to hide a look of surprise, which made Negan chuckle. “I get that a lot when I answer that question.” She would have to work through that information later, figure out what that said about him as a person. The types of people who chose teaching positions… well, it begged the question what had happened to form him into... this? She didn’t have time to flesh that thought out as Negan launched into his next inquiry.

“You studied psychology, and you spent some decent time with him… if you were me, what would your next move against Rick be?”

Shit. She walked right into that one. How was she so off her game tonight?

She searched his face for a minute, took the decanter of whiskey and filled her glass. She met his glare as she gulped the shot down, stifling her cough this time. As she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she said, “I left their group to join you, but I don’t hate them. I’ll follow orders out there, but you can’t expect me to plot against them in here.”

Negan chewed his lip as he studied her, narrowing his eyes. She waited for his next question or her dismissal. She hoped for the latter.

“If you were me, what would your next move against Rick be?” he asked again, a malicious tone encroaching his voice.

She filled her glass again, but Negan’s hand appeared on its rim, pressing it to the table as she tried to lift it. “I’d like you to answer this one.” He said, threat in his voice despite the polite smile he wore.

As she made to protest, he cut her off. “You see, you asked to be more than just my wife - which stung a little, I won’t lie. But I am a generous husband, I like my wives to be happy. They always did say, ‘happy wife, happy life.’ I’m not one to argue with an age-old adage, but in order to do that for you, to make you happy… give you a job, if that’s really what you want… I gotta know what value you bring. I gotta know if you can do more than just take orders - I have enough obedient dogs out there. You’ve seen the way they bow to me. I don’t need another dog. What I need… is a wolf. A wolf, or a wife. The choice is yours.”

She stared at him, working to keep the rage she felt from burning through her glare. Bastard.

“I’ll give you until dinner tomorrow. Come back with something good, and I do mean something impressive, or settle in as a stay home wife, dear. You asked what I’ll do with Daryl – I guess you get to make that decision. I’d like him to become one of us, but what I need is information, and if you don’t give it, then I’ll get it from him however I have to."

"You’re dismissed.”

---

She’d played that conversation over in her head too many times to count since returning to her room last night. She worked through all her options, even options that weren’t options. How could she live with herself if she gave him all her friends’ weaknesses? How could she live with herself if she didn’t?

Seeing Daryl now, slumped in that red chair, staring into the room she hid in - her heart broke. He was filthy, his hair a level of greasy that was bad even for Daryl. His eyes were cloudy, dark bags hanging under them like he hadn’t slept in days. She shuddered to think what could put him in such a state - her strong, tough Daryl. She knew he wasn’t breaking, but she couldn’t tell how much he had left in him. He was so ragged, so run down.

Her decision was made. She wouldn’t be the cause of more pain for him. She could never forgive herself for that. For him, she could turn into whatever she needed to be. For him, she could be a wolf.

They’d see just how much of a wolf she was.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Glenn: Your smile? It makes my day.

Maggie: Your happiness? I live for that.

Daryl: A room? Get one.

Y/N: Hotel? Trivago.

I think I know where this is going, and I’m not mad about it.

Loving this series!

Look for the Light - 2

Masterlist

Summary: Four years ago, Joel saved you from certain death. In return, you followed him faithfully. Always ready to do and give him whatever he asked, despite the hurt it inflicted on you, body and soul. Agreeing to go with him to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies… this would be the last time you’d follow him… After this, your debt would be paid.

Relationships: Reader x Joel Miller, Joel Miller & Ellie, Reader & Ellie

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose to give none. Read at your own risk. 18+ (So excited to share this with you. So much to come folks! 🙊😍)

Series Masterlist - Part 1

"He hates me!" Ellie grumbled to you under her breath as she ate the last of the sandwich from her pack.

"He hates everyone." You snorted as you nibbled on your ration of jerky.

"He doesn't hate you."

"Doesn't like me." You grumbled in reply, a little louder than you'd intended but Joel made no sign of hearing you.

"So what's the deal with you two anyway?" She asked as she pulled Joel's coat closer.

"Nothing." You replied with a shrug.

"Bullshit."

"What do you-"

"I catch you looking at him all googly-eyed when he's not looking and I've seen him do the same when you ain't." She stated and you scoffed at that "It's true." She defended "He clearly cares about you and you clearly care about him so what's the issue?"

"I owe him my life." You stated plainly "He saved me and I have followed him ever since." Ellie gave you a bemused look as she waited for you to continue "He keeps me around because he saved me... All this is."

"You mean more to him than that." Ellie argued but you simply shook your head.

"No... I don't." You grumbled before eating the last of your jerky "Get some sleep. Got a long walk ahead of us tomorrow."

Ellie didn't argue. She ate the last bite of her food before laying down on the hard forest floor and pulling Joel's coat over her small shoulders. You watched her a moment before your eyes drifted to Joel again. The man was standing in the same spot he'd been a few minutes ago, eyes scanning the forest for any sign of movement.

You knew telling him to get some rest was futile. The man was as stubborn as they came so instead you let your head fall back against the tree you were leaning against and closed your eyes. The sound of the forest lulling you to sleep.

Joel meanwhile was replaying what he'd heard, over and over in his brain.

He keeps me around because he saved me... All this is

Did you really think that's all you meant to him?

Had he really given you no other indications of how important you were to him? He knew he wasn't good at showing any sort of real emotion. He'd shut that side away the day his daughter had died. He hadn't cried since that day either but he had hoped that the small things he did had given you the smallest indication that you were more than just a sidekick to him.

Then he remembered what you'd said to him back at the hotel.

So you're not fucking us both?

Truth was... He and Tess had broken things off the moment she realised that you meant more to him than just a casual fuck. She'd been okay with him sleeping with you occasionally. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't been sleeping with other men occasionally but when it had come to light that his feelings for you ran a little deeper. That was it.

Her words to him just before they'd left her there to die amongst those monsters still echoed in his head.

I never ask, you for anything! Not to feel the way I felt.

Joel had known, deep down, that Tess' feelings for him were a little more than just friends. But she had never pushed him for more than he was willing to give and he had always appreciated that. So it hadn't come as any surprise that when she'd figured out that he had feelings for you, she hadn't wanted any part of it. He was sure that it had hurt her more than she let on but you can't help who you love. And he didn't love her.

Save who you can save... And tell her the truth... Before it's too late.

He was sure though, as he turned to look at you and Ellie, that if he told you what you meant to him. You'd laugh in his face"

I owe him my life

That's the only reason you'd stuck around. The only reason you'd let him lose himself in you when he needed a distraction. You felt that you owed it to him. The truth of it stung more than he'd expected but he couldn't let it distract him from what he needed to do. Get Ellie to Bill and Franks.

That was his mission now.

It was a five-hour hike to Bill and Franks. Five hours and then you could have a shower and eat some of Bill's amazing food. But for now, Jerky would have to do. You were sat nibbling on your measly ration, and Ellie sat silently beside you.

"Where's Joel?" She asked having woken up to just you.

"Gone to freshen up down by the river." You stated and she gave you a slight nod before returning to her own meal.

A few bites in, you were overcome with the sudden urge to hurl and you managed to throw yourself sideways in time before you were emptying the contents of your stomach onto the forest floor.

"Whoa, you okay?" Asked Ellie as she looked at you in shock.

"Yeah." You replied as you shook your head weakly and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

'What's going on?" Joel asked as he appeared.

Wonderful You thought to yourself as you looked up at the man.

"Nothing." You replied meekly as you shook your head.

"She just hurled!" Ellie exclaimed and you cursed the teenager's honesty.

"Really?" Joel asked as he stepped closer to you, his brows drawing together in what appeared to be genuine concern.

"It's nothing." You waved off as you got to your feet "Probably about to start my..." You didn't finish your sentence. Didn't get a chance before a wave of dizziness washed over you and your knees gave out.

Ellie and Joel were quick to catch you but you didn't thank them. You shrugged them off before tossing the last of your jerky to Ellie and stalking away.

"Just got up to fast." You growled before making your way out of view so you could relieve yourself.

"She okay?" Ellie asked as she watched you disappear behind some trees.

"How should I know?" Joel grumbled and the teenagers scoffed.

"You can pretend that you don't give a shit but I can see that you do." She snapped, eyes boring into the side of Joel's head.

When she realised she wasn't going to get the reaction she wanted out of the man she dropped it. No point in fighting a losing battle.

"You want your jacket back?"

Nothing.

"I've never been in the woods." She said then, changing the subject completely "More bugs than I thought."

Still, the man said nothing. She knew he was probably upset about Tess but it wasn't your fault or hers. Yet he'd been nothing but cold towards you both since it happened.

"Look, I've been thinking about..."

"I don't want your sorries." He growled, still not looking at the teenager.

"I wasn't gonna say I'm sorry." She snapped back and this grabbed his attention "I was gonna say that I've been thinking about what happened.

Nobody made you, her or Tess take me." She said as she motioned in the direction you'd walked in "Nobody made you go along with this plan. You needed a truck battery or whatever and you made a choice." She paused a moment, staring him down "So don't blame me for something that isn't my fault." Joel nodded, his eyes dropping to the forest floor "And don't blame her either!"

"I don't blame her!" Joel defended and Ellie scoffed.

"Well, you've been a dick to her since we left the city."

"It's complicated." Joel grumbled and Ellie just rolled her eyes at his reply.

"Whatever."

An awkward silence fell over them both for a moment. Neither party knew what to say never so your return brought them both to sigh in relief.

"How much longer?" Ellie asked as she watched the man finish packing his supplies.

"Five-hour hike." He replied plainly and the teenager nodded.

"We can manage that." She replied before looking at you and smiling. "You've gone this way a lot?"

"Yeah." You replied, as you grabbed your own pack and slung it onto your back.

"No Infected?"

"Not often, no." You replied before looking over at Joel. "Let's get going."

You didn't wait to see if they were following. You silently trekked in the direction of Bill and Frank's. You didn't want to talk to either of them about the fact that you'd thrown up again. You didn't need to add to their burdens. Once you were at Bill and Frank's, you'd be able to rest, freshen up and lay all this to rest.

So you walked. You walked as fast as you knew Joel could handle with his bad knees. You tried to tune out Ellie's chatter but the girl was a chatterbox.

"How'd you get that scar on your head?" She asked Joel but he didn't answer, his eyes fixed on you as you walked ahead.

"What? Is it something lame?" The girl pushed "Like you fell down the stairs or something?"

"I didn't fall down any stairs." He grumbled finally and you smirked.

"Okay, so what then?"

"Someone shot at me and missed."

"See, that's cool." The teenager gushed as she glanced up at Joel "You shoot back?"

"Yeah."

"You get him?"

"No, I missed, too." He grumbled in reply and you almost turned your head to look back at him "It happens more often than you think."

"Cause you suck at shooting or, like, in general?"

"In general."

"You know, seeing as it's just the three of us, I was thinking I should pro-"

"No."

It amused you how persistent the child was when it came to having a gun of her own. You knew it wasn't unusual for kids to be curious about firearms but she was bordering on trigger-happy. You wondered if she had ever fired one outside of the FEDRA school shooting range. You hoped she'd never have to.

When the rest stop came into view you slowed your pace a little. Knowing that Joel would want to stop and restock his munitions.

"Hang back a minute." He said as he made his way over to the entrance of the derelict store "I gotta grab some stuff I stashed."

You stopped by the door, waiting for Joel and the teenager to catch up. You couldn't help the quirk of your lip at Joel's obvious misery at the child's constant chatter. He wasn't one for talking much. Only when he had a few drinks in him would he loosen up and hold a conversation with anyone. But even then, they were short.

"Stashed?" Ellie questioned as she looked up at the run-down building "Why do you have stuff stashed here?"

"You ask a lot of goddamn questions." He griped as he stepped past you and inside.

"Yes, I do." Ellie replied, smirking as she looked up at you "So, are you gonna answer me or what?"

"We hide supplies on routes." You piped up as your eyes scanned the room "In case we find ourselves short on gear..."

"Which I currently am 'cause-"

"No way!" Ellie squealed out as she ran across the store "You ever play this one?" She asked as she turned her head to look at you and you shoot your head "I had a friend who knew everything about this game. There's this one character named Mileena who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones." You grinned at her excitement.

Your eyes scanned the pilfered shelves as Ellie played around with the long-dead game. The frames, dirty and bare.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna take a look around, see if there's anything good." Ellie stated as she looked over at Joel and then at you.

"Trust me, it's all been picked over already." Joel grumbled as he kicked at the floor.

"Maybe, maybe not." Ellie shrugged as she made her way over to the back of the shop "Is there anything bad in here?" She called out as she looked through the dark doorway.

"Just you." Joel replied and you smirked as Ellie rolled her eyes at the man's reply.

"Getting funnier." She grumbled before stepping into the back.

"Where are you going?" He asked when he noticed you step away.

"Keep an eye on her." You replied with a shrug before slipping into the back.

Joel was right about the store being pillaged but there was still the odd item here or there. You shone your torch over the bare frames, hoping that you might find something of use.

"Check this out1" Ellie exclaimed and you turned to see her dropping down through a trap door on the floor.

"Ellie I don't think-" She disappeared before you got a chance to finish.

You turned your head and shone your torch down the remainder of the shelves, stopping in your tracks when it hit a familiar-looking box. You couldn't believe your eyes when you picked the item up to look at it better and without thinking you stuffed it in your pack.

"You all right back there?" Called out Joel and you turned to look back at the room you'd seen Ellie in a few minutes before, squinting when you noticed some movement at the trap door.

"Yep!" Ellie called and you smiled as you made your way towards the trap door, stopping when you saw that Joel had finally found what he was looking for.

"All there?" You asked as you stepped towards him and he nodded.

"Looks like." He replied "She being awful quiet all of a sudden." He said as he looked up at you and then at the door "Ellie?"

"She's fine." You said but he didn't listen to you, his brow pulling together the longer the girl didn't respond.

"Ellie!" He called out again but still, the girl didn't respond and suddenly you started to worry also.

Getting to his feet, Joel took a few ginger steps towards the doorway, ready for anything that could potentially come through it.

"Ellie?" He called out one more time and that's when the girl appeared.

"Picked over, my ass." She announced as she waved a box of tampons in his face and you smirked at her before looking back at him again.

"Told you she was okay."

Joel then finished swapping out the gun he had for the one he'd stashed and then, hid it all away again. A short while later you were walking again, dust kicking up behind you as you followed the dirt road to your destination.

"Holy shit." Expelled Ellie as she spotted a wrecked plain on the hillside "You fly in one of those?"

"Few times, sure." Replied Joel as he came to a stop at the girl's side.

"So lucky."

"Didn't feel like it at the time." Joel grumbled and you smirked, remembering your own experience of flying.

"Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich."

"Don't forget the cramped ass toilets that always seemed to be occupied."

"Dudes, you got to go up in the sky." Ellie groaned.

"Yeah, well, so did they." Replied Joel grimly and your face fell.

Your walking on prompted the other two to follow. You zoned out the conversation when Ellie asked about how it all started, not wanting to be reminded of how one minute you were sleeping soundly in your bed and the next, you were being carried to the car so your family could flee the town you'd grown up in. The walk passed by more or less wordlessly on your part. Stopped only to look at the mass grave that sat at the side of the road, a sobering reminder of how the army had dealt with people they hadn't had space for.

You were an hour out when your stomach rolled again and you silently dashed for the treeline before emptying what was left of the contents of your stomach. Joel and Ellie watched wordlessly as you stumbled back out onto the road a few moments later but neither of them said a word and for that, you were glad. You didn't even want to think about what could possibly be wrong with you right now.

When the fence line came into view, you instantly knew something was up. The flowers outside of the house were dead. Frank would never have let them get to that state. The house looked desolate. It had always looked so lived in before and you shared a look with Joel, a silent conversation passing between the two of you as he stepped towards the gate.

Something was wrong.

"Stay there." He ordered as he inputted the code and entered the town, gun in hand.

You followed Joel with Ellie at your side. Heart in your throat as you studied the house closely. It all just felt wrong. The door squeaked open and you felt your heart leap into your throat as the empty house came into view.

"What the fuck?"

"Bill?" Called out Joel but he was met with silence "Frank?"

Still nothing.

"You stay there." He said to Ellie, before looking up at you "Ya hear anything, you see anything, yell."

"What if they're gone?"

You knew in your heart of hearts that the lack of presence from these two men was a bad omen. There was no way either of them had left this place.

You stepped studied the table and noted the rotten food that still sat there. Frank would die before leaving a mess. You stepped into the kitchen but you were greeted by nothing but the smell of rotten food. The smell was so strong that you ran for the sink, throwing up nothing but bile now.

"Ellie?" Called out Joel and you stepped back into the dining room to see the girl sitting there with a letter in hand.

Joel stood opposite her, a grim expression on his face.

"It's from Bill." She said as she picked up the envelope "To whomever, but probably Joel." She read before putting it back down again "I figured I fell under 'whomever'... Came with this." She said lifting up a car key.

"So they're dead?" He asked, his eyes darting up to you when you gasped at his question.

"You wanna?"

"Go ahead. You do it."

You stood there and listened as the girl read Bill's letter. Silent tears slipped down your cheeks as you started at the paper in her hands.

"I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep..." She trailed off, looking at Joel who then took the letter from her.

His shoulders tensed and you knew exactly what it said. You didn't need to read it to know.

"Stay here." Joel grumbled before stepping out.

"Should we go after him?" She asked you but you shook your head.

"No."

An hour later you were showering and washing the grime of the past two days from your skin. Joel managed to find some clothes for you all. Some jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel for you that now sat on the unit just outside. When you were done, your eyes fell on your pack, mind wandering to the item inside. You were sure you were just sick with stress but you wondered if perhaps it was something more sinister. Perhaps it was best to check.

You could hear Joel and Ellie as they pilfered the house for essentials. So you knew they wouldn't miss you for a little while longer.

You were sitting with Ellie when Joel emerged from upstairs, hair still wet from showering. His eyes raked over you a moment. Your knee bounced as you stared at your pack that lay on the table. You felt sick. Your stomach twisted in painful knots as you unconsciously picked at the skin around your thumbnail.

"Well, don't you look pretty." Ellie teased, pulling a smirk from you as you glanced up at him.

"Shut up." He grumbled, "Come on... time to go."

Ellie got up and skipped outside but you were slower to follow. Grabbing your pack, you threw it over your shoulder and started to make your way out, Joel stopping you when you reached him.

"You okay?" He asked and you nodded.

"Golden." You replied, giving him a smile that you knew was convincing no one.

Because the truth was you weren't okay... Far from it!

And you didn't know what you were going to do.

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Man over the radio: I have one of your friends.

Y/N: Which one?

Man over radio: The annoyingly quiet, growling one.

Y/N: Oh. You have my boyfriend. He’ll be okay.

Man over radio: Now, let’s talk trade.

Y/N: Why? He’s gonna be loose and stab you in three, two—

-Radio silence-

Daryl over radio: Could’a at least pretended to be worried.

Y/N: See you at home.

I’m on my like 3rd rewatch of The Last of Us, and I just watched the Kansas City episodes.

During the big fight with all the infected running around, the way Joel anticipates every move of Ellie’s and covers her from the house… it’s the absolute hottest thing he does in the whole show.

It makes me tingle.

He’s my current hyper fixation and I’m good with it.

I'm coming to you sweetheart... 🖤

Found on Pinterest

AI

🥵

Y’all always out here giving some new TV boyfriend to obsess about

♡ Hotline ♡

Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: You and Mikey have been casually seeing each other for a few weeks. After a late night text from him, you make the drunken insomniac executive decision of calling him back. Naughtiness ensues.

Or: the one where you and Michael have phone sex.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, M/F. Minors DNI // PWP, P!rn With Feelings. Phone sex, flirting, teasing, sexual innuendos, dirty talking, mentions of oral sex (m. receiving), masturbation (m. and f.), sexual fantasies, role-playing scenarios, librarian k!nk, mentions of rough sex. // Blink-and-you-miss-it angst, alcohol use, mentions of insomnia, anxiety and self esteem issues.

Word count: 3.8k

Read below the cut OR on AO3

Notes: Reader wears glasses in this - don't look at me like that, it's integral to the plot 🙄

For the history nerds, the quote at the beginning is from the book "Fire from Heaven" by Mary Renault, about the relationship between Alexander the Great and his friend and lover, Hephaestion.

Enjoy! As always, likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

His feelings were confused; he wanted to grasp till Alexander's very bones were somehow engulfed within himself, but knew this to be wicked and mad; he would kill anyone who harmed a hair of his head…

… you yawned at the page you’d been reading (i.e., staring at without absorbing a single bit of information), before turning your head to the nightstand and seeing the clock mark 2:49 am.

“Good god”, you whispered, tiredly rubbing your face with one hand, while the other reached for the half-full glass of red wine keeping you company in your insomnia.

Technically, you knew drinking was the last thing you should be doing on a weeknight, when you were having a hard time falling asleep and were expected at work in the morning. But living alone was really not helping you behave like a responsible adult with bills to pay. So, you slowly sip your wine, read your book, and hope that eventually your brain will give up and allow you to pass out for at least a few hours.

Suddenly, your phone lights up with a text. Michael B., it says on the screen. A pang of excitement hits you, and you immediately scoff for reacting so earnestly to a text from a guy you’ve been with (not even biblically, just the daytime coffee dates that people with busy lives manage to pack into a crazy week) for a grand total of two times and less than two hours, overall. Not pathetic at all.

Still, you can’t help but reach for the phone.

Hey, I know it’s late and you probably won’t read this until morning, sorry. Wanna have dinner at that spot we talked about? I can pick you up at the office ;) – M.

You smile, and without really thinking, hit the call button.

He picks up quickly, an amused tone in his voice. “Well, I was not expecting that. What the hell are you still doing up, princess? No work tomorrow?”

You laugh. “God, I wish. I just can’t sleep. Haven’t had one of these nights in a while… my brain won’t shut up, even though I’m so tired I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck”.

“Ooof. That fucking sucks.”

“Yup.”

“Well, I’m glad to be your booty call in this desperate time.”

“Michael”, you laugh so hard you choke on some wine and must set the glass back on the table. “I really don’t think that’s what this is”.

“Oh, no?”, he feigns innocence.

“No…”, chuckling, you continue with the most sultry, mock-seductive voice you can muster “… a booty call is if I was like: Sooo, Mikey… are you, like, busy right now? Do you wanna… come over? I’m aaall alone…”.

You make sure to put particular emphasis on the word ‘come’ and Mike sounds like he is doubling over with laughter. “That was the worst proposition I have ever heard, no doubt”.

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re officially off my booty call list. I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life.”

“Ah, shit… I fucked up now, didn’t I?”, you swear you can hear his grin from the other end of the line. And see the laugh lines that form on the corner of his eyes when he smiles genuinely, the rare but so cute nose crinkle that makes your belly flutter…

You would love to get a fucking grip, thank you very much, but the wine was making you incapable of keeping a level head in this flirtation.

“Well… all is not lost. Taking me out to dinner is a good start to redeem yourself. If your game is on point tomorrow, your booty call list status might be revised… in the not-so-far future”, you add, suggestively.

“Shit. Now the stakes are on. I gotta be on my best behavior tomorrow, then”.

“I don’t know about best behavior…”. You feel like slapping yourself for your lack of subtlety.

He chuckles. “So… you like them a little nasty, huh?”

You’re glad he can’t see you blush furiously. “Not like that… but I do like a man who isn’t afraid to… take what he wants. Respectfully, of course.”

“Of course… damn, girl. You’re getting me thinking about all sorts of things…”

“Well, you’re the one who started talking about booty calls. It’s technically your fault”.

“That’s fucking rich. I was being a gentleman, sent you a sweet text and all. Not a single sex reference!”, he says, proudly.

“Ok, that is true”, you concede, laughing softly. “Are you still at the restaurant?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah… paperwork coming out of my eyeballs. I don’t even understand how the hell I organized this mess”. You hear rustling through the line, and imagine the mess of letters, invoices and bills that must be covering his office desk.

“That fucking sucks”.

“Word”. His chair squeaks loudly. “So… what are you wearing?”

You laugh. “You’re unbelievable”.

“What? I’m just trying to keep the conversation light, you know? Nobody wants to hear about my fuckin’ paperwork at 3 am”.

It was subtle, but you could sense something deeper in his words (sadness? self-deprecation?).

“I wouldn’t mind hearing about your ‘fuckin’ paperwork’ at any time of day, Michael”.

The line goes silent, and you fear you went too deep, too soon. Made this weird in record time, wow.

“I didn’t mean it like… I meant if you want to talk to me about your shitty day, you know, you can, but I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay sweetheart. I get it… thank you for that”, he says, softly. “Maybe some other time. Right now, I honestly just wanna forget about this for a little while... I was really pumped when you called”.

“That’s okay. Really?” You smile, relieved.

“Yeah, really. So… wanna make a guy happy and tell him what you’re wearing?”

With a chuckle, you concede. “Well, nothing. I’m in bed and I sleep naked, so… yeah”.

There’s a heavy pause. “Holy shit. Are you for real?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Jesus, fuck… baby, you can’t say stuff like that and expect me to be normal about it”.

You grin, having just decided that, actually, you wanna play dirty.

“Who says I want you to be normal about it? Besides”, you throw back, suggestively, “I hardly think a woman can be held accountable for what she says after four glasses of wine on a Thursday night… naked and alone, in such a big bed…”

“Now, see, that was a much better pitch for a booty call than the first o-”

“I’m gonna hang up.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry”, he laughs.

“You’re an asshole”. Even as you say it, you’re smiling.

“And you are a minx, lady. Gettin’ a guy all worked up…”

“Oh, my... I don’t know what you mean…”, you whisper into the comforter, now balled up in your fist over your mouth, as if to cover up your blushing cheeks from an invisible audience.

“Oh, I disagree… I think you know exactly what you’re doing”. There’s a note of sarcasm in his voice you find exhilarating. A sudden noise – like a chair squeaking loudly on a panel floor – can be heard from his end. Followed by… a metallic rattle, more subtle but still clear. A… belt unbuckling?

Wait. Is he…?

You grin, amused. “Mr. Berzatto… I’m hearing suspicious noises. What is going on over there?”

A deep grunt. “Nothin’ much, sweetheart. Just making myself comfortable, is all”.

“And how exactly are you doing that, mister?”

“You know… freeing the junk.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Well, that certainly helps set the mood”.

“Hm… baby, can I ask you for something? It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna do it… but I figure I might as well shoot my shot.”

You notice you are sitting up very still against the pillows in your bed, holding your breath in anticipation. “Sure… what is it?”

A heavy pause follows. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat itself out of your ribcage, your throat feels dry, and your tongue sits heavy and thick in your mouth, the taste of wine suddenly overpowering your senses. And you are so horny.

“Could you… send me a photo of you right now? Are you wearing those new glasses?”. He sounds… eager, almost nervous with the way he trips over the second question.

Oh. Something clicks for you, then. You smile. “So, you really liked the new glasses, huh?”

“Shit… c’mon, don’t bust my balls about it”, he says, with an embarrassed chuckle of admission.

“I’m not! It’s very flattering, actually”. You hope you conveyed how much you are not making fun of him. However, you hate misunderstandings, and to dispel any that might be going on here, you decide there is only one acceptable solution.

“Give me a minute”, you tell him, determined. You don’t wait for an answer before you drop your phone and get to work.

Meanwhile, Mikey sits in his rusty office chair, in what he thinks must look like a very… undignified position. Cock out, right hand stroking it lazily, slumped back with his jeans barely down his ass, work shirt dirty and stinking of cooking oil, his entire body tense in a mix of anticipation and shame. A part of him can’t help but wonder if you are fucking with him: laughing from the other end of the line, leaving him hanging – literally and figuratively (he chuckles dejectedly at the realization that he still remembers something from high school Lit class). He guesses he would kinda deserve that. What type of freak asks for nudes after two… dates? Do those rapid-fire coffee-grabs even count? He is so shit at this. Anything more than a casual hook-up or a quickie behind a sleezy pub is rocket science for him. ‘Congrats, loser! You just fucked it, yet again’.

Then, his phone pings. 5 photos received.

In the first one, you are lying on your side, in bed, a dim warm light illuminating the scene. He can see the contours of your body clearly, despite being covered by a layer of nearly sheer white sheets. His gaze follows your exposed collarbone, to the silhouette of your breasts – he is sure you purposefully allowed a bit of side-boob to slip past the entrapment of sheets… just for him.

He swears he could stare at the shapes of your body all day and never get tired – or limp. His dick is throbbing painfully, now.

It does not get better when he sees the rest of the photos. Your face is visible, on those. The last two are his favorites. You are laying on your stomach, with the reading glasses on, as promised – except they sit lower on your nose than usual, so that your eyes peak out from over the top of the frames. Your hair is down, tousled and wild like it’s just gotten messed up. ‘Is this what she looks like after…’. You are holding a glass of wine to your mouth – lips plump and lightly tinged red – that detail drives him a little insane –, and in front of you lays a book, delicately held open with your other hand. And in the last photo, the sheets have slipped lower down your breasts, revealing a generous cleavage. You’re staring directly at the camera with an inquiring gaze, biting your lower lip. ‘Come get me’.

“… Mike? Are you still there?”

It’s been some time since you sent the photos (twenty seconds, which your anxiety tells you is actually half an hour), with no reaction from him. Your cheeks heat up, and you suddenly feel very silly and insecure. Are they even… good? What makes a good nude? Do these even qualify as nudes? You’re not showing anything super explicit… they’re suggestive, at best. Is he going to think you’re a prude? God, why is this so diff-

Mike clears his throat. “Yeah, I… fuck. Fuckin’ hell. Holy shit. Sweetheart… these are so hot. Jesus… thank you so much. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous…”. The last part comes out as a whisper, like he’s starstruck.  

You didn’t know it was possible to get more flustered than you already were. “You’re welcome… I’m flattered I managed to make Michael Berzatto incoherent over some low-res thirst trap selfies.”

“Baby, these are genuinely the hottest pics I’ve ever seen. You look like a hot librarian or something”.

You laugh out loud, triumphantly. “Ah! I knew it!”

“What?”, he laughs along.

“Something you wanna share with the class, Mr. Berzatto?”.

“Fuck, don’t stop calling me that, sweetheart”, he says, sounding out of breath.

“Yeah?”, you whisper.

“Fuck, yeah. It’s just… I’ve got a thing for girls with a kinda nerdy, librarian type of vibe, you know? And when I saw you this last time, holding a book and wearing your reading glasses… I gotta admit, my mind went straight to the gutter.”

Interesting. “Really? What did you imagine then?”.

A pause. “I’m not sure you want to hear it… I don’t want you thinking I’m a pervert or something”.

You sigh. “Mikey, I just sent you near-naked photos of me. We’re having phone sex. We are two horny adults having fun. Besides…”, you switch your tone to what you hope comes across as faux innocence, “… I asked you about it. It is kinda my fault, right? I guess I was kind of… bad”.

“Oh, is that what’s happening?”. He chuckles, as if saying challenge accepted. “Alright, then. When I saw you like that for the first time, this image popped into my head, right? I mean, you looked like a really hot librarian. So, I started picturing you in that scenario, with big glasses and all – just like the photos you sent me… except you had your hair in a cute ponytail, and your lips were even redder with lipstick… and you were wearing fishnet stockings up to your thighs – fuck, you got such nice legs, baby –, and you had a pair of those… what are they called. Uh, kitten heels. Yeah. Fuck, your ass would look unbelievable like that. I mean, it is unbelievable, you know what I mean? When you show up at the restaurant wearing those cute little dresses and skirts, I feel my dick twitching in my pants… that’s how hot you are, baby… that’s how crazy you make me feel.”

His words were streaming out like an avalanche – a filthy stream-of-consciousness. Flash images of all the times you were together pop into your mind. He was always nice and polite to you, if cheeky – that was his personality, after all. You’d never felt disrespected or threatened around him. Maybe that’s why, now that you knew he had been actively thinking about you like this… you were very turned on.

“Too much, sweetheart? You wanna keep listening to this filth?”

“… yeah, Mikey. Keep going. What happened then?”

“Then, I took you to a hidden corner in the library, rucked up your pretty little skirt and ripped your real nice dress shirt open… you know, so I could suck on your tits while I fucked you hard against some shelves. Didn’t even need to rip your panties off, ‘cause you weren’t wearing any. Just lifted you up and slammed my cock right into your pussy… God, you were drippin’ wet for me, and you mewled so sweetly… loud, too. Had to shove my fingers into your pretty mouth to keep you quiet. That’s what I imagined, sweetheart. More or less.”

The crass and vivid way in which he described his fantasy made you speechless. It was exhilarating. Knowing that all those times he had talked to you with a straight face, he had been actively fantasizing about fucking you hard. His words.

“Jesus Christ, Mikey”, you breathe out. “That’s… I can’t believe we had entire conversations while you had a cheap porn flick playing in your head”, you laugh softly, unconvincingly.

He sighed deeply. “See, I knew this was a bad idea… honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit. I guess I’m just a fucking perv-”

“Babe…”, you interrupt him, gentle, but firm, “shut up, please. I’m messing with you. I told you, it’s very flattering that you’re attracted to me. In fact… it’s super hot. Knowing you were having all those dirty thoughts about me while still being a gentleman… is making me feel all kinds of things, right now.”

“Yeah? What kinds of things?”

“Good things, Mikey… I’m so wet right now”, you mewl, the need for release in your core overwhelming the embarrassment you would be feeling otherwise. Without thinking, you kick the sheets away from your body and cup one of your breasts, kneading it and flicking your nipple – a moan leaves your mouth in a desperate plea.

“Fuck”, he whispers, “you got wet over that filth? Jesus Christ, baby. I won the fuckin’ lottery”.

You are burning with desire, and you can feel your pussy throbbing when you finally give in, sliding one hand down and shoving two fingers inside with barely any resistance. “Mikey… I wanna come so bad. Can you talk me through it… please?”

“Fuck… yeah, sweetheart, anything you want”. He moans, then, and you don’t think you have ever been so turned on in your life. Mikey Berzatto, a horny, moaning mess, jerking off in his mess of an office at 3 am… because of you.

Chicago’s Helen of Troy. You chuckled softly at the thought and decided to up the ante. “Baby… do you know what I was thinking when you were telling that beautiful story just now?”

He laughs, voice recked. “What, baby?”

You pout, and add another finger in, increasing the pace of the thrusts. “I wish you had pictured kissing me real hard, while I unbuckled your belt… would you let me get down on my knees for you, baby? I really wanna have you in my mouth, Mikey, like, right now”. Your words come out broken, sentences all messed up – you sound pathetic, but you are so past caring.

“Shit-”, a gasp, followed by a deep breath and the noise of something hitting a surface really hard. “… holy shit. Baby, I imagined all that and a whole lot more – seriously, you have no idea. Hell, if the lady wants to suck my dick, who am I to deny her, uh? Fuck. Would you let me fuck your mouth, baby…?”

You moan loudly at that and realize you need both hands, putting the phone on speaker – fuck the neighbors – and bringing your other hand to your clit, rubbing lightly, but fast. You were so close. The thought of kneeling on the floor, clothes and hair all messed up from Mikey’s hands, lipstick smudged… looking up at him, and watching his composure unravel because of you…

“Hm… yeah, Mikey, I think I would… ‘cause you’re so nice to me… such a gentleman, even when you’re fucking me hard… would you ask me real nice, baby? Hold my face gently in your big hands, while you fuck it?”

“Fuck, baby… I would treat you so right, you deserve everything-”, he chokes up and, for a few moments, you hear a distant cacophony of noises, like he’s put the phone down. Then, he’s back. “Sorry, sweetheart, I need both hands now”, he chuckles.

You giggle, “Me too… you got me so hot I’m fucking myself on my fingers and rubbing my clit at the same time… and it’s still not enough. I need you…”

“Fuck, that’s so hot. You fuckin’ yourself because of me… I know it’s not enough, baby… you need my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes! Mikey… please…”, you howl, completely out of your mind.

“How do you want me to fuck you, baby? Hm? Want it nice and slow? Nah… I think you like it fast and rough, don’t you? Long as I keep kissing you real good, touchin’ you real gentle, all over your body… you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”. How he manages to say such filthy things with so much honey dripping from every syllable, is beyond you.

“Yeah, fuck, baby… it doesn’t matter. I’m so wet already, you don’t need to do anything else, just hoist me up in your arms and pin me against the shelves… and shove it in me”.

You are still holding onto a shred of decency because you blush at your own crass admission – still, there is clearly not a whole lot left, as you start rubbing your clit and fucking yourself harder and faster. “I don’t want you to be gentle when you fuck me… I just need to feel your cock stretch me open… wanna feel the sting of it for days, be at work and not be able to focus because all I can think about is how you fucked me so good-”

At this point, you have no idea if he can understand anything you’re saying, because your words are intercut with moans and gasps and mewls and incoherent babble, as you’re about to reach your peak imagining Mikey’s on top of you, railing you into the bed.

“Baby, I’m gonna come… fuckin’ Christ”.

“Mikey- fuck!”.

Your body shakes and your eyes roll back from the strength of your orgasm. Distantly, your brain registers a broken string of moans and curses from the other end of the line.

A few seconds pass, and you feel yourself coming back down to Earth. You lazily stretch out on the bed, completely relaxed and fucked out. “That’s so cute… we came at the same time, babe”, you happily whisper, a ditsy smile on your face.

He huffs, amused “Yeah… what can I say? I’m a romantic at heart”.

You laugh sincerely. “This was… so good, actually. I’m glad I gave into my instinct and called you”.

“Well, I’m even more sticky now”. You both laugh at that. “But I’m also glad you called… like, really glad. Uh, can I ask you something?”

You notice a shift in his voice.

“Yeah… what is it?”

“I don’t want things to get weird between us after this… Like, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do all these things to get me off. You know what I mean? It’s just a fantasy… I’ll have you in any way you want me. Okay?”

You feel a tightness in your chest, and you wish, not for the first time tonight, you had him right in front of you so you could kiss him all over and hug him.

“Mikey… I genuinely liked tonight. And the more we talk, the more I like you. You’re not the only one who feels like you won the lottery…”.

“Baby… you’re too sweet. Don’t you think you already got me blushing enough for one night?”

“That’s fucking rich. I must’ve gone through all shades of red tonight, because of your filthy mouth”.

“Please. You loved it”, he chuckles.

“Yeah, I guess I did”, you concede, with a smile.

After saying goodbye – and confirming that yes, you would very much like for him to pick you up and take you to dinner later – you fall asleep fast, your mind finally catching up to the pleasant tiredness in your body, a soft smile on your lips.