#dbf!thomas
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the unknown remedy | t. bordeleau
au masterlist
part four. <- prev part
summary: thomas shuts himself off from everyone for a couple days, resulting in a surprise from you and his friends. you find out one of his secrets and he gets vulnerable, leading you to reassure him that everything'll be okay.
contains/tw: smoking, heightened feelings/anxiety, bren being kinda irritating, thom being a sad boy, vulnerable thom, light mentions of abuse.
pairing: dbf(dad's best friend)!thom x reader
word count: 2.8k
note: i know this took probably over a month so i'll be surprised if anyone's still invested. its bit different from the dbf!thom we know and love but he's got feelings too and i wanted to show them :) hope you guys like it <3 and remember to send me an ask or comment or message me if u wanna be added to the daddy issues taglist !!
six days.
it's been six days since you and thomas last saw each other. you thought he was avoiding you, partly because the morning after you slammed the door in his face you were greeted by a tide pen sitting on the floor right outside your bedroom.
his intentions weren't to make it seem like he was ignoring you but clearly your brain had other plans. you spent the next couple days with heightened anxiety whenever any of your dad's friends came over out of fear of facing him.
you got to know a lot of them pretty well, actually, and you'd even noticed a slight change in your dad's behaviour. he was.. happier. it was a good look on him. spending time with his friends really seemed to change him for the better and you wondered why they hadn't been around throughout your childhood. why did he only find it important for them to come around when thomas moved back?
you tried not to think too much about it, it wasn't very important anyway. you wondered where he's been but kept those thoughts to yourself knowing you'd see him eventually and you'd get the chance to apologize.. if you gained the courage to do do.
and thomas, well, he wasn't having the best time of his life per se. things had been great the first couple of weeks but with a hectic schedule and a busy mind, he found himself crumbling. he felt like he was the base of a mountain carrying the weight of the world on his back.
"i haven't seen bordy in a long time."
your head peaked up at ethan's words, carefully eyeing the bunch who began to share questioning glances.
"... i haven't seen him since like, last week. i don't even think i've heard from him since then," nick realized and you held back a frown. how had you been the one to notice his disappearance before they had? it was the one thought that ached to leave your mind.
"i've been texting him," your dad spoke up and you smiled. of course he'd been.
"he's really stressed. he's got lots going on right now and he doesn't know how to handle it by himself but he refuses to ask for help," he explained with a small scoff at the end. "stubborn son of a bi— uhh, bickle."
you rolled your eyes at his pathetic save, as if you didn't cuss when he wasn't around. the group began pondering upon all the reasons why thomas had been distant, seemingly forgetting the fact that your dad directly told them he was stressed.
it seemed as though this was unlike him no matter how heavy his heart felt. you felt guilty listening to their conversation, obviously his business was probably something he didn't want you knowing.
"why don't we go check on him later?" mackie suggested as he took a sip of his water. "bring some food and have dinner, maybe. who knows if he's been taking care of himself.."
you felt a nauseous pit in your stomach at the thought of how poorly he may have been doing. had he even been able to get out of bed? brush his teeth, remember to drink water? you were frozen in your seat as your mind ran in circles.
"yeah, that sounds like a good idea," your dad agreed. "i guess we'll leave when hunter gets home. he should be back in a bit."
--
the hood on thomas' head softly brushed against his cheek as he turned towards the sound, tickling his skin. he lightly chuckled to himself when he spotted an innocent squirrel running across the street.
with every inhale of the poison between his fingers, remedy filled his lungs. he sat under the tree outside his house, looking upon the empty road scattered with cars and potholes that the city never seemed to fix—he remembered them from when he was young.
with a rapid heartbeat, smoke fell from his lips and found haven in the cold air of the night, a sight so sore for even his eyes. he hated when he did this, when he resorted to the one thing he told himself he'd never fall victim to.
he watched along as rain began to fall from the clouds above, painful memories causing him to take another puff to ease his mind. it was hard. it was hard to live in michigan without the girl he'd planned a life with.
it was stupid, he knew that. he was never one to be hung up on a girl, especially one he'd left nearly a year ago but the bruises were still fresh in his heart. they were raw, a burning red, and they ached like their motive was to torture him.
he still had the scars scattered upon his body, the words ingrained in his head, the sights tattooed on his eyes. sometimes they became too much.
he was a man with a broken heart, one he didn't think deserved to be fixed. but that couldn't be further from the truth, yet he failed to see it. all he saw were the dark blue days he blindly mistook for a loving red.
his fingers planted on the grass beside him as he lifted himself up, crushing the cigarette beneath his feet before he bent down to pick it up. a few specs of dirt got caught in the grooves of his fingertips, even under his nails a bit. he cringed, flexing his joints at the irking feeling. it was an unhealthy habit and he felt guilty as he disposed of the evidence before walking back into his house.
his first order of business was to get rid of the smell tainting his nose. a shower was due.
the towel hung loosely around his hips as he stepped out of his bathroom, steam following behind him and into his bedroom. he shook his head a bit, droplets of water flying around before he ran a hand through his hair.
a knock on his front door caused him to stop as he pulled his pants up. he thought he was hearing things, giving it a moment before a louder sound filled his ears. he furrowed his eyebrows, unbothered to cover his upper half as he was now distracted by the persistent knocking.
"give me a fucking second," he mumbled to himself, a hand on the railing as he jogged down the stairs.
he twisted the knob and a bittersweet feeling flooded his gut as the breeze clung to his warmth. familiar faces holding bags in each of their hands, all with smiles on their faces is what he was greeted by—and somehow he mustered one after days of feeling numb.
"w-what are you guys doing here?" he asked, feeling a sense of relief.
"we missed you," brendan shrugged as though he should have known. "now, are you gonna let us in orrr.."
"yeah— yeah, c'mon in," he was speechless, really. as he stepped to the side to let all his friends in, an overwhelming amount of emotions flooded his body.
it felt like a stream of minions walking into a room as they kept piling in. finally looking out the door to see if anyone was left, he was face to face with a much smaller figure. you looked at him with your doe eyes, fiddling with your necklace as you felt your heart beating in your head.
you were trying to hide the ice in your veins as his gaze didn't leave you. he saw the goosebumps on your skin and bit the inside of his cheek, encased with worry.
he was quite surprised to see you. if he was being truthful, he barely thought about you since the day he dropped off the tide pen. he'd been so preoccupied that he didn't have even a minute to think about anything that didn't cause him stress.
he noticed the pen in your hand as you remained stuck in your place, like your feet were glued to the ground. the bruise on your face had faded, which he was glad to see as he cleared his throat.
"you can come in," he told you softly. "i'm not gonna eat you."
you bit your lip and gave him a breathy little smile as you looked the other way in nervousness. he didn't know how you were feeling but he could tell it wasn't good.
you were flustered. beads of water rolled down from his hair and onto the exposed skin of his chest. his skin was still a bit red from the hot shower he'd just taken, but the place your mind took you was far from that innocent act.
"are you alright?" he asked, concern laced in his voice.
"mhm," you nodded, rolling on the balls of your feet. you stood under the covered part of his porch, a little wet yourself as you'd been pelted by the rain when you were standing behind the large group of boys.
"you're dripping, c'mon, come inside," he finally demanded with a light hold on your arm, pulling you into the house. he closed the door behind him and sighed.
he realized as soon as he saw you that you weren't in any mood to speak. hell, he didn't even think you wanted to be here. but as your dad's best friend it was his responsibility to get you to warm up seeing as you'd come to visit him.
"do you want something new to wear? who let you go out like that? it's raining and you're dressed in a t-shirt," he wondered, your teeth beginning to chatter as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
you were standing out there pretending not to be cold and he knew it.
"well i-i didn't know it was raining," your voice shook. "my dad told me i should be fine."
now he remembered why he'd been so worried about you before. he sighed once more, grabbing your hand and leading you into the kitchen where everyone else was. you felt bile rising in your throat, swallowing it down as thomas approached your dad.
"is it okay if i give her something warm to wear? she's shivering, bren, look at her," he asked almost tiredly, something in his mind resembling alarms beginning to blare.
"yeah, go ahead. y/n, you should have worn something warmer," brendan scolded after replying to thomas.
you frowned. "but you told me i'd be fine."
"you know yourself better than i do, you should have known. now you're going to have to wear something of thom's, don't you—"
"okay, bren chill out," thomas grabbed his shoulder with his free hand, the other still attached to you. "take a breath, now's not the time to get riled up, alright?"
brendan looked at him then you before going back to setting up dinner. "just be quick, we're almost done here."
without another word, thomas led you up to his bedroom. his touch was gentle, so careful that it made you feel fuzzy. your stomach fluttered as you looked down at your clasped hands.
his bedroom was simple, unlike you would have imagined. well, you hadn't really ever imagined it but if you had, this wasn't what it would have looked like. there was almost zero essence of personality within the four walls claiming to be his, but you assumed it was because he was still getting settled in his new home.
"do you wanna sit?" he asked, letting go of you to hand you the hoodie that was on his bed. hesitantly, you grabbed it between your fingers.
"aren't we just going back down?" you asked quietly, looking down at the item in your hands.
"well i thought," he let out a breath. "i thought maybe we could just chill up here for a minute. i need a breath, you know? and i thought maybe you would too."
"oh," was all you were able to say. your eyes met his, emotionless as you felt dazed for a couple moments.
you didn't make a sound as you walked past him and to the foot of his bed, taking a seat on the soft mattress. you held back a gasp at how bouncy and fluffy it was, simply smiling to yourself instead before placing the tide pen down.
thomas, relieved you made yourself comfortable, used the moment to grab a shirt. you turned at the worst second, watching as the muscles of his back flexed while he pulled the shirt onto his body. your eyes widened, heart skipping a beat as you quickly looked away and decided to pull his hoodie over your head to distract you. it was too late. the image of the grooves on his back would be fixed in your mind for god knows how long.
the marks on his body intrigued you more than anything else. somehow you hadn't noticed them the last time you saw him, but they weren't fresh. you didn't remember hearing anyone talk about them either. they were probably just from hockey so that might have been why no one was concerned—that was what you told yourself so you wouldn't get in over your head with all the endless possibilities.
you shoved your arms into the hoodie as your head got trapped in the fabric and a pungent scent hit your nose, causing you to make a sound. you quickly brought your head up and took a deep breath while wiping your hair away from your face. you nearly gagged.
"what the heck?!" you exclaimed, every ounce of anxiety or nerves from before completely washing away. "what's that smell?"
you sniffed as thomas walked up to you, his face turning pale. his heart sunk to his stomach while you missed the expression in his eyes, trying to identify the scent. it was then that he realized that he'd given you his hoodie from earlier, when he'd been smoking outside.
"is that.. smoke?" you finally looked at him and noticed his agony. "you smoke?"
"look, i-i know it's gross and i know it's bad but," he fumbled with his words. "please don't tell anyone. i only do it sometimes, when i'm stressed or anxious or, i don't know. sometimes i just need it and i can't stop myself, i—"
"thomas, it's okay," you cut him off, standing up as he ran his hands over his face with a bitter chuckle.
"no, it's not. it's really not," he shook his head. "and don't tell me it is because you're going to go down there and tell them, and i've been trying my best to hide this from everyone for so long—"
"you're rambling, stop," you stopped him again, boldly placing your hands on his neck.
he was forced to look at you as you tilted his head, your thumbs running soft circles along his jawline to calm him down. his eyes softened and he found himself at a loss for words for the second time that night.
how he left himself go like that, he didn't know, and quite frankly he was embarrassed. guilty, even, for speaking like that to you. and your delicate touch only made him feel worse.
"i'm sorry," he whispered, unable to say anything else.
"hey, it's okay. i didn't say anything bad, did i?"
he shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. he looked down at his feet and closed his eyes, wondering how he got himself in this mess. how he was here, with you, and you were the one trying to console him when he knew it should be the other way around.
"i won't tell anyone if you don't want them to know, okay? it's not my place or my business to tell them. i'm sorry that i scared you but i promise your secret's safe with me," you spoke slowly, trying to make him understand.
"i just," he glanced up at the ceiling, foot tapping with anxiety. "it's embarrassing, you know?"
"it's not. i mean, yeah, it isn't the most healthy habit but it's nothing to be so ashamed of. you're okay, i promise."
his glossy eyes met yours and he nodded again, holding back a frown when your hands fell from his skin.
"and um, i'm sorry about.. about slamming my door in your face," you apologized sheepishly, thinking he might find it humorous. he did, which was a good sign as he smiled, a real chuckle leaving his lips this time.
"didn't take it to heart," he told you. "and thank you for.. for dealing with whatever just happened to me. i— i don't know how i let that happen but.."
"you don't need to explain yourself," you shook your head. "and you don't need to thank me, either. i'll always be here for anything you need."
"thanks," he replied in thought. how brendan raised such a sweet daughter, he'd never know. "and i'll always be here for you, that's a promise."
--
daddy issues taglist <3 @hockey-lover86 @cuttergauthierr @bbbbruins @makenzie3s @kenzie3165 @jayrami3 @hailcale @hockey-lover86 @bordelhoe @bordeleau @emsully2002 @ana-maa @rainingsunlight @fialalover @power2myheart @equallyshaw
#thomas bordeleau#thomas bordeleau imagine#thomas bordeleau imagines#thomas bordeleau x reader#dbf!thom#dbf!thomas#dbf!thomas x reader#dad!brendan#dad!briss#umich hockey imagine#daddy issues au#thomas bordeleau fic
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MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB’s Recommendation List: May Pt. 1
Welcome to the first part of the May recommendation list. I hope you have been working enough, with the semester coming to a close for those in school. Ensure you aren’t letting yourself go too crazy with finals and are coming up for air and self-care. If you would like a moodboard made for your story or character, please send me a request. I would love to make you one. If you are interested in having your writing challenges featured here, your stories, or even your blog, please feel free to tag me in your works, message me, or use the hashtag MidnightWithDearKatyTSPB. Heads up, June may be all on one list. I’m going to my Grandmother’s 90th birthday and visit my family. I’ll get plenty of reading done while I’m gone, but I don’t know how much list-making I’ll get done. I hope your spring is going well and allergies are leaving you alone.
<<April Pt. 2 💐
May Pt. 2✨>>
Masterlist 📜
I'll See You Again (Moodboard + One-Shot) >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Estella Shelby - Summary: Estella doesn’t want to let go of Tommy or her family.
BLURBS/DRABBLES:
Escape to Me by @daisyblinder >> Tommy Shelby x fem!reader - Summary/Request: The reader is autistic but masks a lot, so it's hidden, and Tommy can tell when they’re getting overwhelmed, so he sort of helps them out? | Found this very touching and wish to have a Tommy who would comfort them in those times of being overwhelmed.
Tommy Shelby + Hot Asshole Neighbor by @scorpiussage >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Were not always lucky when it comes to neighbors, or are we? (My Summary) | If Tommy were my neighbor, I would gladly like to hear how he would like to make it up to me. 😏
ONE-SHOTS:
And Her Name Is... by @teenwolf-theoriginals >> Dad!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: The children help come up with baby names. | I truly love this family!Tommy setting.
The Boys by @teenwolf-theoriginals >> Dad!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: You get a call from the boys’ school, that later sparks a tense conversation between you and Tommy. | I love reading Tommy in a family setting and Charlie with more siblings. Happy to read this.
Close Your Eyes, Make A Wish by @look-at-the-soul >> Modern!Tommy Shelby x reader - Summary/Request: The reader could be having an extremely stressful day, and Tommy comes home to find her looking out their bedroom window, and he gives her a cuddle knowing it always calms her down. | I had a smile on my face the whole time I read this.
Enraptured by @toms-cherry-trees >> John Shelby x Reader - Summary: Gif Request - Sneak Preview: “Oh I see a lot that I like” That cheeky grin of his has not left his lips, and you want to kiss the arrogance out of him... | I love this so much, honestly. You can never get too much, John Shelby.
Mine by @toms-cherry-trees >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Gif Request - Sneak Preview: More often that he cared to admit, Tommy had pictured her with that fan in her hand and nothing else on her skin. | The ending took me by surprise, and it had me so giddy.
More Than Enough by @dandelionprints >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Sneak Peak: “Who have you heard say that? You tell me and I’ll send Arthur round to have a chat with them, no one talks about my wife like that!” | Fantastic job making me fall in love with Tommy Shelby all over again.
My Daughter. by @toomanyfandomsallatonce >> Tommy Shelby x F!Reader - Summary: One of the maids at Arrow house yells at your daughter for breaking a vase, and Tommy is extremely displeased when he finds out. | I have such a soft spot for Dad!Tommy Shelby.
Season's Change, People Don't by @shelbyssins >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary/Request - Sneak Preview: “What if you say no and regret it?” Tommy asked, his voice as soft as the breeze whispering over Y/n’s skin. | This was just perfect, perfect, absolutely perfect.
There's A Lot of Making Up To Do by @acewritesfics >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Y/N is Charlie's daughter. Her and Tommy grew up together and have always been close until she moved away to go be a nurse in London. But now she's back. | Sometimes, a way to a woman's heart is a horse and remembering their teenage dreams of said perfect horse.
Untitled by @padfootdaredmetoo >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Sneak Peak: “You leave what’s mine alone. Now give my regards to Mr. Kimber.” He spat on them as John pulled him back; looking down at them, he wondered if they were dead. | This one-shot brings me joy and makes me want to cheer for Tommy Shelby.
Welcome Back Sweetheart. by @toomanyfandomsallatonce >> Tommy Shelby x F!Reader - Summary: You left Tommy before the war started, and now, years later, he found you again, and this time he won't let you run again. Especially not into the arms of your abusive husband. | When Tommy makes a promise, he keeps it.
Whatever You Say by @little-diable >> Tommy Shelby x fem!reader - Summary: The reader finds a book without a title in Tommy's office, and the more pages she flips, the more she starts to realize that it's a book filled with drawings of naked bodies. | Thank you for the porn with a plot. It was *chefs kiss* perfect.
SERIES:
1919 Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | by @shelby-fangirl00 >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Jasmine Manson - Summary: Jasmine has lost almost everything in life except her Godmother, Polly, and the Shelby family. They are perhaps the only thing keeping her somewhat sane. She spends her days taking care of Finn and her nights living by the moon, reminiscing of old days with Tommy Shelby, wishing for him to come back to her to the way things were before the war. The thing is, the war has changed them both as they both have lost and changed so much in the four years they were apart. (my summary, sorry) | Loosely based on the series, and I'm loving what there is so far!
Night In January pt. 1 | Through The Window pt. 2 | Only Joys Will Come pt. 3 | by @evita-shelby >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: I ride on the January, which leads to a life-changing decision and Shelby family tradition. (My Summary) | I loved the emotions this touches on and how you can picture it happening in the series.
Welcome To Downtown, Mr. Shelby | Chapter 9 | by @notyour-valentine >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Crawley - Summary: He was born on a boat, with neither of his parents sure of the date after the fact, unregistered and unlisted until he went to fight for his country. Her birth had been celebrated with the ringing of church bells, champagne toasts, and announcements in newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic. Their worlds could not have been more different, and perhaps that was why, when Thomas Shelby looked at Lady Charlotte Crawley, he saw more than her title, more than her looks- he saw an opportunity. | I look forward to reading more, and I love how you combine both universes. I know I said that last time Val, but you always blow my mind with your ability to do so.
PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS:
BLURBS/DRABBLES:
Games by @psychedelic-ink >> bodyguard!Joel Miller x actress!reader - Summary: Joel is fed up with your bratty behavior. | 🥵 🥵 🥵 Can be read alone or read its sequel High Enough.
Skinny Dipping by @swiftispunk >> Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: Sneak Peak - "there," he says softly, reaching out his hand for you to take hold of, pulling you further into the water and closer to him. "feels nice, don't it?" | I’d skinny-dip any day with Joel Miller if it were anything like this.
Snack Break by @joelscruff >> boyfriend's dad!Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: Joel needs you to be quiet. | Cocky!Joel telling you to enjoy your snack does things to me.
ONE-SHOTS:
At His Side (In His Bed) by @proxima-writes >> mand’alor!Din Djarin x female reader x Paz Vizsla - Summary: They call you the whore of Mandalore. Nothing more than the woman at the side of the ruler of New Mandalore, Din Djarin, a pretty little prize that he likes to share with his General Commander, Paz Vizsla. Mandalorians have always been good at keeping their secrets. | It's hot, and if you are like me, you'll surely love the ending.
High Enough by @psychedelic-ink >> Dieter Bravo x actress!reader x bodyguard!Joel Miller - Summary: An afterparty, weed, drinks, a grumpy bodyguard, and an eccentric actor. What can go wrong? | I think that was one of the hottest things I’ve ever read. 🥵🔥
In Her Defense by @swiftispunk >> Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: An unexpected attack. A protective instinct. A heartfelt exchange. (The reader steps in when a stranger tries it with Ellie, and Joel is a guilt-ridden sad boy about it.) | This was a lovely one-shot; I'm so glad I read it!
*I've Shattered Now by @wannab-urs >> Dieter Bravo x Reader - Summary: Continuation of A Ghost of You (but can be read separately). Dieter dies, and you have to learn to live without him. | I’m not crying like a big baby. Nope, I promise. This was so beautifully written, and I would read it repeatedly. Please read all TW.
*Old Soul by @softlyspector >> Joel Miller x f!Reader - Summary: You're never quite sure of your place in Joel's life. Everyone else seems to know exactly what it is. | This whole work is dark yet beautiful, honestly, and I love it.
Say It With Your Hands by @swiftispunk >> Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: Ellie convinces Joel to see the town masseuse. It goes mostly okay. | That was so hot 🥵 Hannah, thank you for sharing this with us.
*Seasons by @loquaciousferret >> Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: One scene for each season of the year of your relationship as you fall in love with Joel Miller, single dad, and sweet southern heartthrob. | The best slow-burn and sweet porn I've read features Joel Miller. I adored it.
Toyin' With Them Older Guys by @proxima-writes >> bartender!Joel Miller x female!reader - Summary: Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder. But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they leave mid-date without explanation. Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all. | This was hot and, dare I say, adorable.
Weakness by @pedgeitopascal >> Joel Miller x female reader - Summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s takes an unexpected turn for you and Joel when some feelings start coming to the surface. | The last line of this just sums this up so perfectly and beautifully…. I love it.
STORIES:
Apothecary | Chapter 4 | by @atinylittlepain >> Joel Miller x witchy!reader - Summary: Joel becomes curious about the woman running the medicine shop in Jackson, and the strange rumors swirling around her. | I know there is still more to come, and I look forward to what is in store for them.
Burning Hour by @juletheghoul >> Din Djarin x Royal F!Reader - Summary: Din Djarin is the captain of your father - the king's royal guard and, as such, is tasked with protecting you. When you leave a child and come back a woman, he sees you in a different light- but he isn’t the only one with his eye on you. Can a Princess and her Knight find a way to be together? | This story is so good! And the plot twist that you don't see coming! It blew my mind and made me love this story even more. I'm not sure which part I loved the most the vows, the porn, or the plot twist. I highly recommend you read this.
In My Hometown Series | Come Back, Be Here | by @swiftispunk >> neighbour!dbf!Joel Miller x fem!afab!actor(ish)!reader (+ platonic!Tommy and platonic!Sarah - Summary: Joel reckons with life in Austin after you return to LA | It's hot, but this series period is hot. It's one of my all-time favorite Joel Miller series here on Tumblr, and Hannah does amazing writing, Joel and reader.
One For The Money, Two For The Show by @cowgurrrl >> rockstar!Joel Miller x actress!reader - Summary: When world-famous rockstar Joel Miller finds himself in some hot water with the press, his PR team suggests fake dating an up-and-coming actress to refine his image. However, when they actually start spending time together, the happy couple can’t stand each other. Will they be able to turn it around for the cameras, or will it all be for nothing? | I LOVE THIS SERIES! If I were the reader, I would be screaming into my pillows about Joel Miller and his stupid face.
Raider by @toxicanonymity >> raider!Joel Miller x fem!reader - Summary: You think Joel is saving you from the bad guys, but he's just claiming you for himself. You're his now, and he won't let you or his men forget it. Better be a good girl for him. It's for your own good, sweet pea. | It's both a perfect amount of dark and porn. If you like dark!Joel look no further.
True Blue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | by @beskarandblasters >> Joel Miller x OC!Hannah - Summary: Joel has lived most of his life with little emotional attachments, especially romantic attachments. He was satisfied with only having his brother, Tommy, and his friend, Tess. That is until Hannah moves to the Boston QZ from Hartford, Connecticut QZ after the military control there collapses, and Joel questions everything he thought he knew about love, trust, and loyalty. | I look forward to seeing where this goes because this has me sucked in, and it’s very good!
*Uneven Odds by @theetherealbloom >> Joel Miller x Fem!Reader - Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written? | You want to cry, scream, and laugh all throughout. It’s a must-read for fans of the television series and Joel Miller.
Untitled pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | by @pascalisbaby >> neighborhood!dbf!Joel Miller x fem!reader - Summary: after two years of fantasizing about your neighbor, Joel, he finally gives you what you’ve been dying for. | This series is just so good! Please read it.
TRIPLE FRONTIER:
ONE-SHOTS:
Take Care of You by @musings-of-a-rose >> Benny Miller x f!reader - Summary/Request: Here is my Benny idea. He gets worried about his baby working nights. The reason why he takes her to and from work. Go out to their favorite hangout for a late dinner. Then spoil her as soon they get home. | Buddles, that is so cute, and yes, I could use some myself.
Pedro Pascal characters as Taylor Swift albums by @swiftispunk
Tommy Shelby Moodboard by @raincoffeeandfandoms
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x reader#midnightswithdearkatytspb#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders#fanfiction recommendation#fanfiction rec list#ktk recommendation list#2023 fic rec#ktk rec '23#moodboards#my recommendations#dark!joel miller#the last of us fanfiction#thomas shelby x reader#dad!tommy shelby x reader#john shelby#john shelby x reader#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel miller x reader#dieter bravo x reader#tommy shelby x ofc#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x reader x paz vizsla#paz vizla x reader
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*Nsfw*
I want dbf!Hotch to sit me on his lap and make me grind on his hard cock telling me how good I am to him. Please I need it 😩.
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(1975)
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Bowie by Geoff MacCormack
flowers by littlefarmhouseflowers
#David Bowie#bowie#david bowie and flowers#dbf 70s#DBF Orange#flowers#plants#The Man Who Fell to Earth#TMWFTE#thomas jerome newton#tulip
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no bc now i need to read some surfer!hotch fics with the same energy as golf!hotch thank you sm
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the sweetest con
cowboy like me chapter fifteen
well. this is it. we made it, kids.
thank you so, so much for reading for all this time. for all your patience, and kindness, and loyalty. i will carry this pair, their story, and all of your love for them with me forever. love you guys. xx
pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader
summary: every cowboy deserves his ride off into the sunset.
warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lotsa guilt from reader, dreamy love sequence & mention of unprotected piv/creampie, more greys anatomy spoilers, reader's dad is either Bald or has a Receding Hairline (you choose), more sex - this time reader and joel sixty-nine, face sitting, oral (f and m receiving), more (inferred) unprotected piv, making dirty, hot love ALLAT, cursing, a little smut n a lotta fluff n a droplet of angst at the end
word count: 10.8k
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“How the fuck did this take you three minutes? Three?”
“I’m telling you. I’m a genius.”
You snort. “Shut up. You only passed Math ‘cause you were fooling around with that nerd – Thomas? Was it Thomas?”
“Timothy. And you don’t need math to do a sudoku puzzle, loser. You just need brains. Logic.” Anna taps two fingers against her temple, tilting her head.
“Logic,” you murmur, shaking your head.
Sal’s is quiet today. He’s out of town for his father-in-law’s funeral and made the genius decision to leave the two of you in charge. Since opening at nine, you’ve had four customers. The to-do list left for you was completed by ten, and since then, you’ve been hunched over your phone at the cash register, messing around on some puzzle app Anna made you download.
It's a Wednesday. Nothing exciting ever happens on Wednesdays.
Anna’s behind you, tearing apart and flattening the cardboard boxes you spent all morning emptying. “That level,” she clicks her chewing gum wetly between her teeth, scent of mint over your shoulder, “that ain’t even the hardest one. Ooh, no, babe. Three goes –”
“Shh!” You bat her arm away, curving your hand over your phone screen. She snorts and wanders off through the back, wad of cardboard under her arm.
Anna wasn’t your closest friend in high school, and you sure didn’t stay much in touch past the odd Facebook post update when you left. But working with her, and her dad being your dad’s buddy – she’s sort of become one of those people you just can’t shake.
Like a stray puppy. Or…an annoying hangnail.
She’s nice enough – talks a lot of crap sometimes, but she cares for you. You’d go as far as saying you two have grown pretty close since you came home. Still, the acidic sting of resentment sits on your tongue, anytime you think of her involvement in the unravelling of your little lie. Think of your dad calling hers, Hank asking her where you were.
Think of the fact that, if she hadn’t been honest with him – I don’t know where she is, Dad – nothing would’ve gone wrong.
That’s not fair. If you’d never touched Joel in the first place, nothing would’ve gone wrong.
It’s just – she had a hand in pushing the first domino.
The bell above the door jingles and you lift your eyes from tiny numbers and blank squares to meet a familiar pair of hazel. An Alanis Morissette T-shirt under a denim jacket. She tucks her thick, soft hair behind her ears and smiles, then skips around the counter and links her hands at your tummy; her ear flat against the nape of your neck.
“Why so clingy?” you ask, and Sarah straightens up.
“Just excited to spend some time with my favorite person. That allowed?”
Your eyes scan her up and down as she leans against the counter, stealing a gummy from a jar beside the register. “Been staying with you for nearly three weeks now, you ain’t sick of me yet?”
She shakes her head, jaw chewing, cheeks swollen with a grin. “Are you done yet? I wanna make sure we get good seats.”
“We will,” you assure her. “It’s only, like, three p.m.”
“But it’s Barbie,” she says, “and I wanna get some snacks before we head in.” She holds the decapitated gummy worm up, eyebrows high, before pulling it between her teeth until it snaps. She drags the withered red tail over her tongue.
“That thing you just mauled,” you gesture to the masticated shape in her fingers, “candy. Snacks. Just take some of that.”
“You won’t even buy your date movie theater candy? Damn. Mom’s a cheapskate. Wish I could say my dad’s a lucky guy.”
You shove her off, disguising your laugh with a shake of your head. “You are on thin ice, I’m not even kidding.”
Sarah’s laughing, reaching for another worm. “You know what that sounds like?”
“Hm?”
“What you just said.”
“What’s it sound like, Sarah Miller?”
“Something a mom would say.”
“Alright,” you stand, “get out. Get outta my store.”
The door opens when you point to it, Texan heat sweeping in to swarm the one rickety fan you have in here. The brass bell trembles, and beneath it, a man in a tucked shirt and jeans, glum face and tired eyes.
You blink at him and he blinks back, and no words are spoken between you, but your dad understands to move, to keep walking – and you understand to let him.
“Shoot,” Sarah whispers, twisting her gummy around her finger. “That was awkward.”
Three weeks of staying with them – Sarah and Joel – also means three weeks of zero contact with your dad. The most you’ve heard from – or, rather, about him is that, last week, Joel bumped into Hank at the gas station, and the old man mentioned that he and your dad had grabbed a beer the night before.
What’d he say? you asked Joel, dragging a dish towel around the rim of a glass.
He shrugged, flicking his hands dry over the sink. Said the Rangers aren’t doin’ too good. I said, Yeah, that’s cause a’ –
No, Joel. What did he say about me ‘n my dad?
He waited a second to let the offense of your interruption soak in. Took the towel from your hand, replaced the glass on the draining board. Nothing, he said, I don’t think he knows.
It sat with you the entire night. The three of you watched a movie, occupying either side of Joel’s couch, though you’re sure you don’t remember a word of it. The image of him sat center-stage in your mind until you pulled yourself against Joel’s body in bed that night. Sat in his recliner, flicking through TV channels, the only sounds in the house that of Ice Road Truckers, the ticking of the kitchen clock, and his own fucking breathing.
Alone. Not even Hank to talk to about – well.
You’ve done your best not to think about him. And it works, most days, when you’re with Joel. Helps to go do stuff: ride shotgun while he picks up supplies for work or grabs groceries. Helps to play pretend like his house is yours, too. Tidying when he’s not home, lighting candles and sinking into a bubble bath for him to find you in when he finishes. Helps to be at Sal’s, with Anna. Sudoku and her fucking Tinder account to keep you both occupied.
Most days, you forget to consider the lonely shape of your dad at all – but that seems to hurt all the more. Like forgetting to tend to an open wound; instead, letting the infection blister and bubble so that, when you do bump it again, the pain feels sharper. Hissing at you, poison seeping from flesh.
His showing up, waltzing straight into the store – feels less like a bump, and more like a pair of hands diving straight into the gash, tearing it wide open again. Blood and poison gushing all over the checkered floor.
Anna materializes between two aisles, hands on her hips when she stands behind you. “Y’all still not really talkin’?” she asks.
You and Sarah shake your heads. The three of you watch the shape of your dad’s skull over the shelves, bobbing from bay to bay. Door hinges to fence paint. He painted the fence last summer. He doesn’t need fucking fence paint.
“Nope,” you reply. “’s been, what, two and a half weeks now?”
“Yeah,” Anna mutters, the slope of sympathy in her voice. “My dad’s been talkin’ to him about it. They’ve spoken, like, almost every night on the phone.”
“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, head falling into your hands. “Are you serious?”
“Not about you and Joel. Just about the fight.”
Your jaw slowly slackens, eyes thinning as your gaze slides over to your friend, a saddened expression on her face.
Sarah nods, like an accessory sat on the dash of a car. Bobbing bobbing bobbing, until her brows drop and she turns to you, finally realizing. “Wait, what?”
Anna blinks between the two of you. “What?” she asks, lips pressing together.
“You know?” Sarah asks, glaring at her.
Anna snorts. Neither of you break. She quickly quietens and clears her throat, bending to stuff more cardboard under her arm. “Well…” She sucks in a deep breath. “At rodeo night, when you left your phone on the table, me ‘n Kara wanted to leave a bunch of selfies for you to find later. But when I went to grab your phone, you had a text from him. Joel. Something about someone winning you over like he did, or something. I can’t remember. But that was the first thing.”
Sarah’s face sours at the mention of her dad’s flirty text, scoffing as she swipes another gummy from the jar. “Real fuckin’ subtle, Dad,” she murmurs.
You sharpen your gaze at Anna, blurring the brown curls and low brows from your peripheral. “Uhuh…?”
“Then, there was the lying to your dad about where you were. That Monday – you said you were at mine. You weren’t. Your dad called my dad to ask, ‘n my dad asked me why the hell you’d lie. I figured, What a weird coincidence, right?”
You slip off your stool, legs feeling more liquid than bone. “Oh, Jesus…”
“But then…then, I saw how you were when he called on the way to Frank’s. In the car. You were…fucking weird. And then Joel punched that dude – that basically confirmed it. I don’t think either of your dads would do that for me. It felt…it felt personal. He took your hand ‘n dragged you outta there, and it felt like…somethin’ else.”
You’re leaning against the counter, head in your hands. Struggling to even listen to her piece it all together. Were you this fucking obvious, the whole time?
Anna answers for you. “Yeah,” she says, nodding, “I didn’t catch two fucking boyfriends cheating on me, and not pick up some detective skills, babe.”
You stand straight, composure slowly building over shame. “And your dad doesn’t know? My –” you flick your head across the store, lowering your voice, “– my dad hasn’t told him?”
A laugh spurts from somewhere deep in her chest. “Hell, no. Are you tryna give him a second heart attack? No. He just thinks you were somewhere you didn’t want your dad to know – a boy’s or something. Which – well, I guess you were.”
You nod, half-appreciation, half-resignation. Alright. Now shut up about it, would you?
“But listen,” Anna says, apparently not as good at mindreading as she is at secret-revealing, “y’all gotta work on being sneaky. You’re, like, really bad at it.”
“Yeah,” you sniff, “thanks, Anna.”
You grip the edge of the counter and try to draw your eye away from your dad; a little angry that he’s here, and yet, a little more thankful that you’ve had at least a tiny glimpse of him. Desperate for him to come over, to acknowledge your mutual existence in the same room, and yet – petrified that he does.
He keeps his back to you, though you notice him turning every so often, looking at you from his peripheral. Nope – your black shirt and blue jeans are still behind the counter. He turns back to the shelf.
“Hi, sweetie.” A woman in a pink blouse approaches the counter. She lays down a couple pairs of plyers and you ring her up, asking if she found everything okay. Choking a little when you inhale the scent of her perfume.
“Beautiful day for you to be in here workin’, huh?” Her rosy cheeks fill as she hands you the cash.
Oh, yeah. It’s a beautiful day to be stuck selling plyers to pink women in pink blouses smelling of pink perfume, while my dad – still reeling from the revelation that I’ve been sleeping with his best friend, by the way – pretends to peruse the store.
“I’m almost done,” you reply, blunt enough to deflate her expression only a little, sliding the paper bag stamped Sal’s back across the counter.
She nods in thanks and slinks off, suffocating aroma following her. And like a magician, when she disappears off to the side, your dad stands in her wake. A few feet from you, keeping his distance, watching carefully before he dares to move. Waiting for your go-ahead.
When you lift your chin, beckoning him forward, Anna takes Sarah’s arm and yanks her away, shoving some shredded boxes into her arms. “You wanna help me?” she asks the nosy Miller, tossing something of an alarmed glance back at you and your dad.
There’s a funny feeling behind your eyes when he steps up, empty hand resting hesitantly on the counter. “She coverin’ up the smell of a dead body or som’?” he asks.
The air pushes from your lungs, a laugh barreling with it. Your hands clasp on the surface opposite his. A scorch of white heat at the nape of your neck. “Very vibrant, huh?”
“Very.” He clears his throat, shakes his head a little, and takes a deep breath. “I figured this might be as good a place as any to find you. I didn’t want you to think I was…cornering you, or anything, if I showed up at Joel’s.”
“I wouldn’t – I mean, maybe. But, y’know…this is fine.” Your arms cross defensively, the baggy material of Joel’s shirt wrapping snug around you.
Your dad seems to know. Evidence being that it’s you, in a shirt all too big – a shirt he’d likely see his best friend in, too. It forces your arms tighter, sucking in the scent of Joel to combat the dizzying feeling of nerves.
“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he says eventually, fingers drumming awkwardly. “I just wanted to know you were fine.”
“I am fine. I promise. Just – working a lot.”
He nods, looking down to his feet. Twists the toe of his boot into the linoleum.
“I’m glad to see you’re alright, too,” you offer, the words fluid and spilling from one to the next – something forceful in their nature.
Your dad’s eyes lift at the same time that his cheeks do. Relief. “Thanks, kiddo. I actually – I was hopin’ that maybe we could talk. If you’re free. I don’t know what time you get off today.”
“I finish in ten minutes,” you say, and hope seems to paint across his face – washing away instantly when you add, “but I’m going to the movies with Sarah.”
He’s nodding again, eyes fixed back on his boots. “Right, right.”
“…But maybe once we’re done I can swing by?”
“Oh, well – I’m workin’ late again. I’ll be out by the time…Yeah. Sorry, hon.”
“That’s okay.”
“Late one again tonight.”
“This, uh – what’s his name again? Kel–?”
“Kelman, yeah. Yeah. How ‘bout I call you tomorrow ‘n we can work somethin’ out? You and Sarah, you enjoy your night.”
You lean back from the counter, slowly more confident in your ability to hold yourself upright. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dad.”
His lips press together in a flat attempt at a smile. “I’ll leave you to it. You mind if I…give you a hug?”
And then you’re the one awkwardly, forcedly smiling. Your teeth gritting behind taut lips. “Not at all,” you whisper, and wander carefully around the counter to where he stands.
He opens his arms and pulls you against his chest, your head tilting to rest your ear on his shoulder. You hook your arms under his, feeling his wrists crossing at your spine. Like two statues, two figures of stone fixing their crumbling bodies in an embrace, suddenly disjointed and ill-fitting. Your heart hurts beneath layers of rock, swelling in attempt to reach for his, shrinking back crestfallen when he feels too far.
He kisses the side of your head, pulls away, and taps your cheek once. “You know,” he says, letting you withdraw from his grasp, “I really miss you.”
You nod. “Miss you, too.”
“Let’s talk soon, alright?”
“Yeah.”
And then he’s leaving, drifting back out into the summer sun, rock disintegrating as the light catches him again. More human, less monster-under-your-bed. He’s just your dad again, just that swaying, bumbling man who used to sprinkle rainbow flakes over your ice cream and double-knot your laces.
The shadows of Sarah and Anna appear at your elbows, the three of you watching your dad sink into his car. You still feel made of rock, splitting somewhere down the middle as you stare at his figure.
“Well?” Sarah asks.
He turns right out of the parking lot, disappears behind a hedgerow.
“Yeah,” you reply, turning in a daze. “We’re gonna…gonna talk.”
“That’s good, right? That sounds…promising.”
You shrug. “I guess.”
Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, drawing your attention to her kind eyes and infectious smile. “We should probably get goin’,” she says, and you agree.
“What movie are you seeing?” Anna asks, filling your spot behind the counter as you turn, making for the back of the store.
“Barbie,” Sarah tells her.
“Nice. She paying?”
“Obviously. Mom duties.”
You kick the door closed on their giggles.
Two days pass without a word from your dad. No text, no call, no visit to Sal’s when you’re on shift the following day. By Monday, you’ve convinced yourself that the entire thing was a dream, a hallucination conjured up by your imagination in attempt to rid you of some of the guilt still chewing at your heart. Bat it out of your brain, like swatting the rear end of a wild animal let loose indoors.
Guilt which is only remedied, only soothed by Joel. By the feeling which overcomes your chest when you look at him – lungs faltering, heart leaping. The peace of falling asleep in his safe embrace, the heat from his body enough to keep you comfortable all night, and then waking up tangled in his sheets – the smell of bacon and eggs twirling through the house, the distant sound of his humming drawing you downstairs to his side.
Late nights on the porch, watching the sun bleed heavily into the sky. Your ankles in his lap, a guitar over his thigh. Thumb gentle on the strings, soft timbre of song lulling you to some place far from reality: the same rosy, dreamlike state you’ve mostly occupied since he dragged you through his front door, kicked your shoes and all of your worries to the side, and made you forget that anything bad had ever happened.
The most comfortable you’ve ever felt in your life, the most loved – a world where your every word is heard and weighed, rolling around Joel’s palms and slotting carefully into his back pocket. A world where his lips on your neck as you make dinner, where the crook of his arm catching you as you pass by, is all normal. Where I love you and I love you, too become the last words your sleepy ears hear at night, right before you sink into a shared sleep.
All of it becoming as natural as the pale moon switching for her golden sister at dawn. As instinctive as breathing.
“Have you ever made love to anyone?” you ask him one night, the aftershock of an orgasm still soaking into your skin.
Joel pauses, hips slowing between yours. “Yeah,” after a couple beats, “sure.”
“What’s it feel like?” you ask, honestly. Combing his dark hair through your fingers. “I’ve never…No one’s ever…”
“Baby,” he says. “We’ve done it. I’ve done it to you.”
Your body tenses and then melts around him. One blink and suddenly the world softens, seems to bow into the background – the only sharp object Joel, the twinkle in his eye piercing through the haze like blinking white stars in thick, dark clouds.
You whisper, “Can you do it again? So I can feel what it’s like?”
He pushes himself up, one elbow planted by your ear, the other hand lifting your thigh. Hooking it over his waist, lowering his arm again to cage you under his body. He nudges your chin with his nose, lifting it to line your lips with his, hold every part of your body as close to his as he can.
Deeper, in every sense of the word. Slow, hard. Eyes on you the entire time, watching the way your face contorts and your jaw slackens, holding the shape of your head in his hands, swallowing his own moans and grunts to make space between you for yours.
“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” he says, and by instinct, your eyes roll forward, focusing or half-focusing on the slick hair at his forehead, the red flush climbing his neck, seeping into the skin under his beard. “You feel it? Feel where I’m goin’?”
And yeah, you whine, you do feel it. Feel him dragging you further away from this world and into the next – somewhere a plain away, somewhere new and different to anything you’ve ever known before. Where physicality is a language, a fluid conversation between the melding of his body and yours; where there are a million words swirling around his pupils, hypnotizing and entrancing and drawing you in until you’re tumbling headfirst into the inky pools.
Where I love you sounds like the groan Joel can’t hold back, feels like the pulsing flood as he snaps between your legs. Where making love is as simple as the squeeze of his hand around yours; the shove of his plate over the kitchen table, offering you the last bite of grilled cheese or simply admitting that it was yours before he’d even taken the first. That addictive laugh of his when you stall the fucking truck for the fifth time: You asked me to teach you, baby, I’m tryna teach you. Foot on the gas, c’mon. You got it. That’s it – now, slow. Slower. Try to feel it. No, really feel it.
Feel it. Really, try to feel it. Can you feel it? Do you know the difference yet? The difference between everyone who was before, and the one who is now? Do you finally get it?
“I feel it,” you cry out, and his frame holds yours together as you fall apart.
It feels like – you.
How did I ever know anything before I knew you?
“That one’s nice,” Joel says, his voice jumping the short distance between his lips and your ear.
You tilt your head, body moving with his when he lifts his hand to swipe through some more of the images. The spacious living room, newly refurbed kitchen, the view of downtown Los Angeles.
He adjusts the blanket draped over your legs. “Washer dryer, walk-in closet,” and then, leaning in closer, whispers, “a balcony. That’s cool.”
“Hm,” you turn to face him, your body shelled by his in the corner of his couch, “I bet you like the balcony, cowboy.”
He smiles plainly in response, squeezing your nose between two knuckles. Yeah. Lots you can do with a balcony.
A sharp gasp from across the room pierces the sweet moment. You and Joel turn in its direction, its owner wide-eyed and blinking at the TV.
“Wait a second,” Sarah yelps. “George is the John Doe?” She gasps again when Meredith announces the same news to her friends onscreen. “Shut – the fuck – up!”
“Language,” Joel clips, chest rumbling between your shoulder blades.
“Oh, like you didn’t have the exact same reaction. George is the…Oh, that sucks. Are you kidding me?” She fishes her phone from the waves of blanket surrounding her, thumbs rapidly typing, eyes shooting from screen to screen.
You snort, turning back to your own phone in your hand, when a text appears at the top of the screen.
Dad: Hey kiddo. Sorry to keep you waiting, work been hectic. Off the rest of today if you’re free to come over.
Your thumb latches onto the message, holding it for Joel to read, too, before letting it disappear off into your notifications.
He tightens his hold on you, burying his nose into the cotton of his own hoodie over your shoulders. His breath pushes heavy and thoughtful across the material. “Still seems as calm as the other day.”
“Too calm,” you admit, “it’s freaking me out.”
“What can he do, you know? You’re here, he’s there. Your dad ain’t an idiot, baby. He knows stayin’ angry about it’s only gonna push you further away.”
“Sure made ‘im feel like an idiot…”
Joel catches the comment and pockets it before it gathers enough weight to bruise. “Well,” he clears his throat, “it’s up to you. I ain’t letting you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“Mhm,” you reply, and wait for more words to fall to your tongue. An answer, a response. A decision that you know you don’t feel equipped or even rightful to make.
“Do you want to go talk to him?” Joel asks.
“I…I want to make things right. I wanna fix it.”
“Okay. And will talking to him do that?”
You turn to face him, frowning. “I don’t fucking know,” you mutter. “Will it?”
He smiles sympathetically. “Wish I knew, darlin’. Would it help if I came? Sat outside in the truck, waited for you? It gets too much, you decide you wanna leave – we leave.”
“You ain’t scared to be near him again?”
He gulps back a laugh, Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly before he allows himself to answer. “Only thing scary about your dad is the sunlight reflectin’ off his damn head. No, I ain’t scared.”
You study him a minute longer, eyes roaming from the lips you could sketch every score of from memory, the beard you’re sure has forever altered your prints from the number of times you’ve run your fingers over the bristles. The eyes which know every secret, every whisper, every thought behind your own.
You sigh, smiling dumbly as he wraps his arms tighter around you. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Joel pulls up by the curb, parking politely at the end of your driveway rather than alongside your dad’s car, like he usually would. Like he used to.
You crane your head, looking past the shape of him to survey the unassuming house. Quiet, still. No sign of hurricane or earthquake, no tremors of rage or words like rocks raining down on the truck roof. Your thumb plunges into the buckle of your seatbelt, the webbing whipping over your shoulder.
“Sure you’re okay?” Joel asks, watching your fingers lift to the door handle.
“Mhm,” you reply, distant. “’s just my dad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”
His eyebrows lift, agreeing. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his lips. “Whatever it is,” he mumbles into your fingers, “if it happens, you come straight back out here, you hear? I ain’t moving.”
The urge to stay exactly where you are and let him carry you off back to his place overwhelms you for a brief second. To stay in the safety of the truck cabin, stay within touching distance of Joel. And as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone. Overcome by the memory of that stony hug in Sal’s, the vacant, lonely eyes boring into late-night TV.
A sharp chap over your shoulder shocks you back to life. You twist in your seat, looking down at a face wrinkled by curiosity and wisdom, sheen of lipstick curved in a mischievous grin. You roll the window down, mirroring her smile.
“Joel Miller,” Rita calls, lowering her ring-adorned fist and pointing over to her car. “Help me with these groceries.”
“Afternoon to you, too, Rita,” he calls back, and she raises two thin, penciled eyebrows. His sigh trickles into a chuckle as he snaps the door open, leaning into you. “I ain’t moving,” he mutters, swinging out of the truck.
“Sure looks like you’re movin’,” you call back, letting Rita pull on your door to let you out.
“How are you, darlin’?” she asks. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”
You hop down beside her, helping her tug the shawl around her arms back over her shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve, uh…I’ve been busy.”
She nods, and then her eyes drift to somewhere behind you. “They go in the kitchen, son.” She points to her house. “I’ll come help you unpack ‘em.”
Joel’s face twists, eyes wide, hands outstretched. You swallow back a laugh when he looks to you, an almost teenage expression which asks, You seein’ this? as he turns back to the Nissan.
“I better go,” Rita says then, giving your arms one last squeeze. “You take care, now. Tell your dad I’m askin’ after ‘im.”
“I will, Rita.” You turn on your heel and saunter around Joel’s truck, giving him one last twirl as he hoists two bags under his muscled arms, rolling his eyes as you spin.
You pull the weight of yourself up your drive, passing past versions of yourself as you near the front door. She’s stumbling towards her dad’s car, a bucket of soapy water sloshing around between her knees. She’s sat on the curb, waiting for Joel’s truck to roll up, praying she never hears another Marty Robbins song again.
She’s naïve, still. Knows no better, knows no worse. Chasing a high, chasing the thrill of being caught and the thrill of nobody ever knowing. A relationship built entirely on lies and deceit. A love woven with dark threads of shame and anger, a tattered mess in one corner where the edges fray and loosen.
And you think: you’ve never felt more jealous of anybody your whole life.
The front door clicks open easily, like the building welcomes you home with a relieved sigh. You follow sunlight into the hallway, feeling it easier to walk through than before – less dense, less suffocating. Less guilty. An honest thief, back to return the bleeding heart she dragged out the door with her.
Secrets like shards of broken glass on the floor, debris from that day. And as if he hears the crunch of your footsteps, your dad appears at the bottom of the hall.
“Hi, hon.”
Eyes wide with a misplaced shock, you say, “Hey.”
“You okay?”
“’m good.”
“Good. Come in, come through.” He beckons you forward, a smile only half-forced on his lips. “You want a drink or anything?”
You follow him into the kitchen, politely accepting a glass of water when he offers it.
He turns with two steady palms on the island, watching as you drag a chair free and sit at the table. “How’s Joel?” he asks, swallowing roughly.
The words come delayed, your open mouth lying in wait. Your body selfishly trying to hoard the information, protective the second the image of that six-foot, two-hundred-pound man crosses your mind. “He’s fine. He’s out front.”
It sounds like a warning, though you don’t mean for it to. Just conversation. He’s helping Rita with her groceries. She’s asking after you, by the way. But your dad seems to sense the natural amber tone of it – the sparking of a flame, daring to catch. He’s waiting for this to go south.
He nods, accepting the fact of it. His own failed attempt to separate the two of you only drove you closer together. Only made you want Joel more.
But then he’s nearing you again, pulling out the chair opposite yours. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, settling with a sigh. “Glad we’re…we’re talkin’ again, at least.”
Your head angles. “Are we?”
His body jerks, flinching from the sting of the question. “Well,” his head wobbles, jowls quivering, “I sure hope so. I was takin’ it as a good sign that you’re here.”
“I’m here,” you repeat, “but that doesn’t mean I’m staying.”
“No, I know. I know. Joel’s out front, ‘n all that.” He looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. Holds his tongue behind his front teeth, waiting for the next turn of conversation.
You lean forward, elbows on the table, softening your voice. “Dad?” you say, and he looks up. “This whole entire thing – I think…I think we oughta try and understand each other, a little better. Hear each other out.”
“I am tryin’, hon. I’m really tryin’. You dealt me an awful lot to hear out ‘n understand.”
You rock back, sinking against the hard chair. Tracing the wood grains in the table, nails digging between. Shame coiling like a snake beneath your tongue, taking up too much space in your mouth. Its venom dripping between your teeth, acrid and sour; tendons in your neck jumping with the bitterness of your dad’s tone.
He sighs. “Be honest with me a second.”
“Huh?”
He waits a beat, watching you carefully. Opens his mouth, pauses, and then speaks. “Who instigated it?”
Your finger pushes harder into the surface. Digging new divots. “Um…kinda both of us. Was sort of a two-way thing from the get-go.”
His lips twist, almost imperceptible. He looks behind you to the patio outside. You can’t read what’s in his eyes. It makes you say more, say things you reckon you’ll regret later – but something to fill the silence between you. Something to let him sink his teeth into.
“There was flirting. Lotta flirting. And then it…it just sort of snowballed.”
“Snowballed.” He looks uncomfortable, lifting his hands to cup over his face. “I just didn’t take him as the type,” he says, muffled into his palms.
“As what type?”
He drops his hands, hitting his thighs with a slap, and looks you dead in the eye. Sad, almost. “Arthur Kennedy type.”
“He’s not.”
You say it instinctively. Your ears hear it at the same time your dad does. He looks at you blankly.
“He’s not,” you repeat, a little looser. Less hasty. “Look,” you sigh, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…everything that we ever did, I wanted to do. I already told you. There ain’t nothing we did that I didn’t ask him to. I swear to you.”
You think back to the cookout, how angry Joel was at the thought of Arthur Kennedy hanging over you. How pissed he’d be, hearing your dad line him up against that old leather boot of a man. Comparing, contrasting. Here’s how you measure up, son. How much of a phantom Arthur Kennedy has been, your whole life, and how much of a sanctuary Joel is in comparison.
Your stomach twists at the thought. A tight knot, wound by a desperation to clear the name of a man whose worst offense was doing exactly what your dad would’ve told him to: leave.
“This whole thing,” you go on, “it’s a mess, alright? It’s – totally fucked. And we shouldn’t’ve lied, shouldn’t’ve been keeping things from you, but then…what did you expect?”
Your dad cuts in like a bullet: “I expect the two of you not to do what you were doin’.”
“No, I know that. But we did it, right? It’s done now. I meant, did you really want us to sit you down in the living room ‘n say, Hey, Dad – guess what?”
He grimaces at the thought.
“Didn’t think so. We didn’t even know what it was. We had no idea what it’d turn into. But you gotta hear me out: it wasn’t just…some fling, or whatever you’re thinkin’. I swear, Dad, it wasn’t.”
He still doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t lift his stare from the table. You feel like a little kid, desperate to make him love you again. Desperate to make him listen. The space between you fills with the bored tick tick tick of the kitchen clock. Each second hurting a little more than the last.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry I let you down, but…I’m not sorry that I did it. If I could go back, knowing everything I know – I’d do it all over again.”
The words roll across the table to him like billiards. You lean back again, watching them as they rattle from his side to yours – your sentence delivered back into your ears. You nod, a sure thought in your mind.
I’d do it all over again. All the covering, all the hiding. The aching, the wishing and wanting. Staring at Joel’s empty hand, dying to slot yours into it. Dying to put any part of yourself near him; your head under his chin, your arms linked around his waist. Knowing you two would feel, knowing everyone else would see, just how perfectly you fit together.
The chasing your own tails: Did you lie well enough? Do they suspect anything? Did we leave any evidence? Disturbed sheets, a collar still upturned. Can they hear us? Have they noticed we’re missing? We’re always fucking missing.
You’d do it all over again. You know what it cost, now, sat directly opposite the price. His polite smiles like veneers over rotten teeth. The tremble in his lip when he opens his mouth to speak.
And it was worth it. Joel. He was worth it all, in the end.
All over again.
“Do you know that every time I look at you, there are…probably four versions that I see?”
You frown. Did he hear what you just said? All ov–? “What?”
Your dad laughs to himself. “When you walk outta that door, I see a little pink backpack over your shoulders. Gym bag in your hand, maybe. I see missin’ front teeth, I see those little clip-on earrings you used to love so much.
“And – and when you’re mad at me, when we fight, I see you at fourteen. Growing pains, y’know? I still remember you slamming your bedroom door in my face, all ‘cause I wouldn’t let you go to that girl Molly’s birthday party.” He looks up, smiling at your perplexed expression.
“I don’t even…remember that, hardly.”
“Long time ago now. My point is,” he continues, “you’re twenty-three. You’re grown. And I just can’t figure out how to make those other versions…grow with you. You still feel like my kid. Still that little girl with the pink backpack.”
“But,” you clear your throat, trying to swipe her from your own memory, “I’m not. I’m not her anymore, Dad. And I think maybe you gotta give me the space to be someone different, now.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding. “I know, I know. I just didn’t think this new version of you would…y’know. Be with Joel, ‘n all. That is something I did not see comin’.”
“You think I did?” You spit a laugh. “If you told me when I came home that this is what was waiting for me…that I was gonna fall…”
Your teeth close around the sentence, dropping your dad’s eye. But it’s too late.
He stares back at you like the sun. “…Fall in love with ‘im?”
And you cower. You wince, almost. The last secret. The last thing he doesn’t know. “I don’t…I don’t know, I –”
“You love him. You do, don’t you?”
Your thumbs run circles around one another, fingers locking until your knuckles hurt. “I don’t know,” you mumble, wishing for the tenth time since you sat down that Joel was beside you, in front of you, around you.
“’s what Anna seems to reckon.”
Your eyes flit up. “Anna?”
He hums. “She is her father’s daughter. A damn meddler. She called here, last night.”
“Oh, Jesus,” you groan, head falling into your hands. “Ignore her, please. Ignore all of it. She doesn’t –”
He holds a palm up. “Now, hold on. You don’t even know what it was she said.”
You huff a sigh, twisting your hand in the air. Go on.
“She reckons you do love him. Reckons he loves you back. More, if that’s even possible, she said. Told me all about the way he stepped in front a’ that boy at Frank’s. About your face when he picked you up from rodeo night, how ecstatic you were. The difference she sees in you.”
“Difference,” you scoff, glancing out to the backyard. “What difference?”
“Same difference I see, probably. Same difference Bill said he saw, too: you’re happier. Even I can’t deny it, hon. It’s damn hard – you never make nothin’ easy on your old man – but…but I am willing to try.”
The hurt begins to slowly fizzle away. Cooling, washing from your skin like foamy waves. Curiosity left to shine through.
“You may not understand this ‘til you have kids of your own – if you have kids of your own – but there ain’t a thing in this world that I love more than I love you. And when you love somethin’ that much, you’ll do anything to stop it from getting hurt. Anything. That’s all I want you to know.”
A silence falls between you, thoughtful and waiting. The clock’s ticking grows sharper again. It seems to consider the same as you: there should be more to this. More to be said, to be convinced. More yelling, even.
But you arrive at the same conclusion, at near enough the same time: there is nothing more. Cards flat on the table, eyes pouring all over them. To question it, to second-guess any of it, would be to tempt fate.
“Anyway,” your dad sits forward, clasping his hands on the table, “tell me what’s goin’ on. What’s been happening in your world?”
You shrug. A little, shy thing. “Work. Been hanging with Sarah a lot. And I, uh, I had a job interview last week.”
“Oh, yeah? Where?”
You shift awkwardly in your chair. “For, uh…that one in LA. They called to offer it a couple days ago.”
A smile pulls across his lips. Growing, growing, growing until he’s grinning back at you. Pride, little bit of surprise. Whole lot of amusement and joy. “You take it?” he asks, figuring he knows the answer already.
“Not yet,” you reply. “Think I’m going to, though. ‘s too good to say no.”
He lifts his eyebrows in agreement, looking down at his hands. Shoulders lurch some under the weight of your news. “There goes that little backpack,” he mutters to himself, and you smirk.
“Can’t hold her back forever.”
“I never had a hold on her in the first place. You were walkin’ on outta that door the minute you found your own two feet.”
You snort. “Good! Good for me. Let me go out into the big ol’ world; let me go fuck it all up ‘n come home for dinner once I’m done.”
“I intend to,” your dad says, nodding along to every passionate word you say. And then he asks, “How’s Joel feelin’ about it all? About LA?”
Your shoulder jerks in a half-shrug. “He’s fine, I guess. Says he’ll miss me, but then – we haven’t exactly had the most typical relationship up until now. Survived a lot I reckon would break any normal couple…”
It’s the first time you think you’ve ever said it. Couple. You’ve thought of it – flicked through the words you might use to describe him. Your boyfriend, your partner. None of them seem to fit exactly who he is to you. None of them strong enough to carry the weight of what’s shared between you. He’s Joel. He’s your Joel. Nothing will ever come close.
Your dad hears it, too. The newness of it. The crisp shape of the word, not yet thawed to this new world. Your tongue still learning how to pronounce it, how to pair it with the image of Joel.
“Guess he can fly out ‘n visit whenever, right?”
“Yeah,” you swallow, “and I’ll be back here, too. Christmas ‘n all.”
Your dad smiles. Relieved, assured. Light slowly returning to his eyes.
“We’ll be fine,” your chest swells, “so Joel says. I trust ‘im.”
You both quieten, sitting back in your chairs. What once felt like a room ablaze, flames tearing the skin from your body as you dragged your heels through it – now feels like a gentle warmth. Waves wrought with enough power and force to destroy you, now seeping off with the change of the tide. Bumps on the horizon.
“Speaking of,” you say, making to stand, “I should probably get goin’.”
“Yeah. Yeah, hon.” Your dad follows, arm on your shoulder as he walks you down the hall.
The sun intrudes, tosses herself into your arms as you pull the front door open. In her golden-rayed wake sits that dark truck, same as always. The same dark tee, the same dark-speckled-gray hair. Arms folded, stood against the body, waiting. Eyes on the house, on your figure as you step down onto the doormat. Joel straightens when your dad follows you out, chest sucking in a ragged breath.
They look at one another, and that’s about it. Something of a nod from Joel – not quite returned by your dad. You figure that might take some time to come back around. And that’s okay. You can make peace with it.
You turn back. Your dad’s looking down at you, hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.
“You know,” you take a deep breath, “the only times he’s ever hurt me, are the times he’s left. The times I haven’t had him around.”
And then you step back, the magnet in your chest telling you it’s time to return to its partner.
In high school, your English teacher tasked the class with writing a short story. Any genre you wanted, any word count up to two thousand. The boys mostly dicked around, wrote action-packed, blood-and-guts garbage. One girl wrote something you’re sure you’d seen in a Hallmark movie before.
But you – you spent two weeks straight, writing. Awake until all hours of the night, hunched over your laptop, sunbathing in the blue hue of an open document. Fingers hammering rapidly into your keyboard.
A man and a woman meet in Central Park. She – hair the color of rust, spilling down her shoulders and lifting at the ends, twisting around the fingers of the blustery wind. A red glow around her third finger where gold once lived. Sat on a bench, alone. Hiding, perhaps. And he – sharp suit and tie, clean-shaven, a steel-blue gaze that might cut glass. Missing the city traffic by taking a walk through the park on his way home. Fleeing, perhaps.
He notices her trench coat first. Bright red, a poppy swaying in the breeze. A little hopeless, a solemn wilt to it. The quickly dampening fire of her hair in the rain, the opaque sheen of polish chipping from her nails. And he thinks he recognizes the constellation of freckles painted across her cheeks. Thinks he might’ve mapped them, once, in some kind of past-life.
She looks up and realizes she recognizes the cut of his gaze. Piercing through her, splitting her in two. Thinks she might’ve felt it before, the opening of her soul to someone who looked just like him – a little more baby-faced, a little more spirited. In some kind of past-life, too.
She stands, and he slows, and they meet somewhere in the middle. Words exchanged; body heat transferred through hugs. Is that really you? You look so different. It’s been years. He doesn’t ask about the lack of jewelry on her third finger. She doesn’t ask about the gray circles beneath his eyes. Just, You wanna grab a coffee? and, Yeah. Yeah, I do.
They sit at the window, watch the yellow taxis and the black umbrellas and the trembling traffic lights. They talk about life then, life now, and silently agree to forget about the part in the middle. They look at each other the same way they must have before they lost one another, before life and love and everything else got between them.
They agree to meet again in a week. They swear that they will not fall back in love.
They know as well as each other that they’re really promising to do just that.
Love – twisted and turned over and over, until it’s a different shape altogether. We started as one thing, and we watched it shift into something completely different. Clay in the potter’s hands. Didn’t you think it might fall apart? There was a moment I thought the heat of the kiln might break us. I’m glad it didn’t. I’m glad we’re made of tough stuff.
I’m glad I found you again, in that park. The pissing rain and the wind so strong I felt it lifting the sense from my mind. In that hardware store, in that bar filled with weed and bad intentions. I’m glad you split me open, glad you could see the good that was still inside. I thought I’d lost her for a minute. Thought she’d forgotten her way home.
Let’s go get a coffee. Let’s pretend it’s always been this way.
Let’s fall in love. The rest will take care of itself.
It takes three weeks in total to properly pack up your things. Two days after you accepted the job, you bought boxes and tape, and began to dismantle the identity you’d spent twenty-three years creating for yourself, a little bit at a time. Taking apart the pink-walled museum of your life, artefact by artefact.
Joel has helped as much as you’ve let him. Laid back on your bed when you’ve dismissed him one too many times, raised his eyebrows and laughed with you whenever you come across some old, forgotten piece of memorabilia. Something ceremonial to it, something innocent and fun. Like a little graduation for all the parts of yourself.
Soon, as the last of the summer sun dampens outside, your room lies vacant. Empty of any real evidence of your being here. Bedsheets and pillows folded, packed away; framed photos and posters unpinned from the wall and wrapped up safely. Drawers and closets barren, left with a selection of your less-loved, less-worn clothes. A wardrobe built from stuff you’ll only ever wear when you come back home to visit, if even then.
Joel’s sat on the bare mattress, looking around your room. You’re stood opposite, leaning against your half-empty dresser. The sun filters feebly through your turned shades, averting her eyes.
You look over at him. Golden, like the sunlight outside. Warm, like the breeze through the trees. Yours. Yours yours yours.
“What?” Joel asks, his eyes having finally found their way back to you. He smiles at your focused expression.
“Nothing. I don’t know. Just…”
“Talk to me. Tell me.”
“You are – this is…” You sigh. “This is good. I think it’s good. Not just all the stuff we did. But you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you tell him. “You’re good for me.” You grip the wooden lip tighter, swaying nervously when you add, “But I think it was always gonna go this way, wasn’t it?”
He sniffs. Shoulders jerk in a weak shrug. “Yeah, I think so, baby.”
Your eyelashes flutter, soothing the prickling feeling of tears forming. “I don’t – I don’t know if I want it to.”
“Yeah,” Joel says through a groan, pushing himself up, “you do.”
You shake your head as he approaches, and his hands cup your cheeks.
“Hey,” he whispers, pulling your body tight against his. Your face buries in his chest; your tears wet on his shirt. He shushes you, rocks you gently back and forth with a hand on the back of your head. “Listen to me.”
“Joel –”
“Listen to me.” He pulls you back, swipes the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they fall. “We’re fine. We are going to be fine.”
“I don’t want to leave you –”
“I know, I know. But you want to go do this. And that’s okay. Both of ‘em, at once.”
Your head shakes again. Like an instinctive reaction to the thought of being separated from him.
Joel smiles softly. “I am going to miss you like hell. You got no idea. But,” he pulls your head back to face his, tucks your hair behind your ear, “I want you to go. You gotta go after this. Right?”
“I know,” you whisper, lungs lurching for breath. “I just – wish it didn’t mean leavin’ you.”
“Darlin’…” Joel coos, pulling you in again. “You know how much I love you? What do I keep tellin’ you? We’ll be alright. It’s you ‘n me, right?”
You nod, salty tears slipping between your lips onto your tongue. When you look up, you notice the same expression on Joel’s face. He blinks his own away before they fall.
“’s you ‘n me,” you repeat, and he pulls your lips together.
You roll your tongue onto his, letting him taste you – all of you. Your mouth, and your thoughts, and your tears, and your pain. You let him take it all, let him hold it for this moment as you breathe him in, let his body fill yours in every way.
Your hands are in his hair, your chest pressed against his; he’s every thought on your mind and every beat in your heart. He’s the blood thrumming through your veins, he’s the oxygen filling your lungs; he’s the words between your teeth and the flesh around your bones.
And he pulls you, and you follow, his shirt in your fist, over to the bed where he lays you gently and falls on top.
“When’s he get back?” he asks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.
“Later,” you mumble, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt.
He pushes back, letting you tug it up up up over his shoulders at the same rate he peels your tee from yours, both tossing each other’s clothes to somewhere else in the room. Jeans undone, shorts dragged from your hips, underwear discarded until you’re naked under him, and he’s naked over you, and there’s nothing and no one between.
Joel cradles you, holds you close as he presses a palm roughly against the underside of your thigh, opening your body to him in a way only he’s mastered. In a way you only would, for him.
His hand cups your sex, fingers nudging between your folds, pushing in when your jaw slackens and a wanton moan echoes from your throat across Joel’s tongue.
“Yeah,” he coos, wrist jacking between your legs, “’s my girl. Gotta get you warmed up, huh? Get you nice ‘n wet.”
Your back arches, arms linking around his neck to pull him closer, pull him deeper. Hold him tight enough to you that your bodies feel one, feel connected at the meeting of Joel’s hand and the most intimate part of you; the meeting of your tongues between teeth.
And you gasp, the nudging of his fingers against the deepest part of your body, the messy circles of his thumb on your clit. The shape of him, solid and warm against the seam of your thigh.
You reach down for him, wrapping your fingers around his cock, and his breath hitches. Teeth bump into yours. You’re fucking irresistible to him.
“Darlin’,” his voice is low, daring you to keep going, “you wanna cut this short ‘fore we’re even started?”
You breathe a laugh into his jaw, hot and needy. “You get to play with me,” you whine, “I wanna play with you, too.”
Joel growls, seizing his movements, leaning back in what you take as him granting full access to his body. But then he says, “Turn around,” in a strict voice you’ve come to know as meaning one thing, and you pause.
You peel your eyes from his dick to blink up at him. “Turn –?”
“– around, now.” He takes your waist, hoisting you up until you’re straddling him, holding you inches above his body. “Turn.”
“What the fuck are you –?”
“Many times do I gotta tell you? You said you wanted to play.” He twists your waist until you follow his movements, swinging one leg over the other. He grabs your hips, tugging you back towards his face. “So, play,” he mutters, lowering your cunt down to his lips.
You gasp, falling forward and hitting the mattress between his legs. “J– fuck me. Are you s-serious?” You moan, hips rocking against the feeling of his bearded chin at your clit. “You’re like – a fucking – horny teenager. Oh, fuck.”
Your head falls forward, hands splaying out over his thighs, before your eyes refocus and you notice the hardened shape of him, tip oozing precome all over the hair-spattered plain of his groin. Your hand lifts, shakily taking hold of him again, and you lean down.
Elbows hooked over his thighs, you bring his tip to your lips, letting a thick bead of saliva fall and drip down the length of him, meeting your closed fist to be dragged up and down.
Joel’s hips almost buck. He holds it, manages to catch it, but you spot it. You’ve done this too many fucking times not to notice the reaction you draw from him.
“’s good,” you whisper, circling your hips on his face, tongue slipping across his cherry-red tip. “Feels so good.”
He responds in the form of a deep groan, rattling from his chest through your clit, shocking like lightning up your spine until the very same noise is thrown from your lips. You push down, tongue molding around every vein and the slow curve of his cock until your lips meet the thick brush of hair at his base, his tip kissing the very back of your throat.
Your throat which jumps, jolts at the feeling of something intruding – before you’re retreating again, pulling him from your body, warm, wet spit linking the two of you when you come up for air. And then you sink back down, head moving up down up down up down as his stomach tenses beneath your chest.
Joel’s palms keep a heavy hold on your ass, his tongue lapping between your folds like they’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted – like he might die if he doesn’t get his fix of you. And you think, they are, and he might, as your cheeks hollow and you bow down over him again.
You establish a rhythm, two waves swirling between one another: your hips rocking, Joel’s lifting ever so slightly as you suckle on one another. Your hand fisting the parts of him you can’t quite reach, not without choking; Joel holding you fixed to his jaw, letting the tip of his tongue hook around your swollen clit, then dragging it down until he’s letting you ride the wet muscle.
The approach of your first orgasm, a tiny spark catching to life in the pit of your belly, incites you with a need to open up further for him. Your throat taking more of him, your thighs slackening as you drive your cunt harder against his mouth.
“’m so close,” you whimper, lips curving around his cock. “So – fucking – ah, keep doin’ that. Right th-there.”
His hands hook around your thighs, tongue darting across your clit. His nose nudges somewhere between your folds, quickly becoming coated in the slick you’re leaking all over him.
“Joel,” you say, fists pumping his cock. Your voice a warning: it’s coming. You’re gonna – Fuck, you’re gonna come.
His voice is looser, more of a shrug of the shoulders when he pulls away from you. He inserts two fingers, curls them like before, like he knows drives you fucking insane. “Let go, babygirl,” he murmurs, lips immediately returning to position. And then, muffled and rough: “Come all over me.”
“Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, hands squeezing around his cock, feeling that same spark ignite into flame, your entire body bursting with heat.
Your high rips through you, battering through each vein in your system, each nerve electrified. You collapse between his legs, his rough pubic hair sticking to the sweat on your chest, hips rutting wildly against the sharp cut of his jaw.
The mattress absorbs most of the desperate moan which streaks across your tongue, nails digging hard into the flesh of Joel’s thighs. And you hear the deep sound of his voice, the thud thud thud of a chuckle against your clit: the cocky fucker laughing to himself as he unravels you for what feels like the thousandth time.
“Alright,” Joel says, more to himself than to the fucked-out shape of you between his legs. He sits up and shifts you carefully down the bed, settling you face-down on the mattress and lifting your ass to meet his hips. “Okay?” he asks, kneeling behind you.
You feel his tip between your legs, slotting happily somewhere in your opening. Waiting for your response. A response you don’t feel able to give, as much as you’d like to; your lips puffy and confused, words jumbling behind them in a tangle of bliss and love.
“Baby,” Joel says, hand slinking down your back, pressing gentle circles into the nape of your neck. “You okay?”
Your head lifts, glancing over your shoulder to see his hairy torso, his thick arms caging over you. He lifts your chin with two fingers, cranes your neck up until you’re looking into his eyes, heavy lids blinking dumbly.
“Just fuck me,” you whisper, and Joel slips his tongue into your mouth.
You used to dream of coming back home. A few years away, doing whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted. Dreaming things up and then chasing them until they happened. Tiring yourself out, lungs gasping for breath and eyes always searching, always looking for a new target to pin up. But always coming back.
Austin, Texas. Its jagged skyline, the streets lined with a vibrant glow and star-spangled bunting. The river like a silver-bellied snake slithering through. Home.
You dreamt of living out your days here, once your blood had slowed and your mind settled. A quiet life in the country, a big wooden house with a wraparound porch. Two little rocking chairs, so you and whoever your husband turned out to be could sit and watch the sky fade from red into orange into white and then dull gray into deep blue.
Breeze kissing your cheek, his lips kissing your knuckles.
Joel.
Home.
You tell him, and he smirks. “That so?” he asks, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your naked body.
You nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand, breathing in the sweet scent of sweat and sex sitting in the air. “Mhm. You could play guitar until the stars come out.”
He hums in agreement. “Sounds like a pretty good dream. Tell you what: you go to LA, do what you gotta do. By the time you come back, there’ll be a big ol’ farmhouse, wraparound porch, rollin’ fields for the dogs. Coffee ‘n sunsets. How’s that sound?”
“And you’ll be there?”
He smiles. Scoops you in one arm and rolls you onto your front, chest to chest with him. His fingers ghost down the curve of your shoulder. “Baby,” he whispers, “I built the damn thing.”
It forces a laugh from your chest, something you’ve gotten used to by now. Joel and his ability to steal a giggle from you, the dumbest moments seeming the funniest. “You’re gonna build me a damn house?” you ask, chin resting between his pecs.
“That what you want?”
Your head rocks left to right, considering. “I just want you. That’s all.”
“Then you got me. I’m all yours.”
In his hazel eyes lives every moment you’ve ever shared. Every conversation, every kiss, every fight. Every minute he’s spent looking for you or at you, every minute you’ve spent looking back at him. It’s all in there. You see it like a movie reel, frame by frame.
It lands like a slot machine on that first night. Cleaning up after pizza. Shoulder to shoulder by your kitchen sink. You wish you’d just kissed him. Even with your dad right there. Wish you’d lifted your heels and put your lips on his, just for the fucking hell of it. Just to condense all of it, every second of longing and hurt and pain into one fleeting moment.
Wish you’d pulled him into you, against you, the weight of his body like an old friend. Welcomed it with open arms, like you’d spent your entire life missing it, waiting for it to come back to you. Let yourself feel your own heart, peeling between the cage of your ribs, reaching out for his. Always reaching for him.
Wish you’d looked him in the eye, tears softening the tufts of graying hair, vignetting the smirk only you can tell is there. Looked at him in that knowing way, that language only you two know; the glint in your eyes translating a thousand messy words into three. Just three – the simplest, lightest words you’ve ever known.
I love you. Let’s skip to the good part.
#welp i didn't cry when i hit post. me? no. no way#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#joel miller smut#cowboy like me
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Dark!The Last Of Us
The Wrong Way (Completed series): DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! You are sold to Joel to clear up your fathers debts. The stark contrast between Joel's violence and Tommy's softness is startling, but you soon find Joel is capable of softness to... Can you fall in love with him under these circumstances? Or will the people around you help you see reason. READ THE WARNINGS CUZ ITS A LOT
Ghost of You (Ellie & Joel family) sequel series to the Wrong Way
Dirty Little Secret: Joel doesn't acknowledge you exist, outside of when Ellie is away and he fucks you into the mattress before sending you on your way. Finally, Joel decides to lay his claim.
Keep Cry’n: Joel kidnaps you and gets off in your crying. DDDNE, no actual touching happens but he jerks off on your face
Cry Harder: DDDNE, Joel still has you captive, fucks you so relentlessly he makes you piss yourself.
Blessed Be the Fruit Series (Ongoing): The Handmaids Tale AU, you are a new handmaid and your first posting is in Commander Miller's house with his wife and their daughter from a previous handmaid, Ellie. Joel and his brother Thomas are prominent men in Gildead, and you are told you are lucky for your placement. You begin to feel lucky indeed when commander Miller treats you well and his young daughter makes for good company. At 14, Ellie needs to wed but a life away from Joel spells danger outside of her fathers protection. Will Joel chose to continue to be a part of an oppressive system, or will he chose you and his daughter?
Guard Dog: Raider!Joel raids your house, but doesn't realize you aren't helpless. You take advantage of the legendary Joel Miller's vulnerability.
Guard Dog: Collared: You and Joel raid an old house… you find a collar and a leash and put it to use.
Don’t You Worry Your Pretty Little Mind: Dbf!Joel wants to put a baby in you.
Puppy Girl: No thoughts. Head empty. Just dumb puppy.
Puppy Girl: Training: Puppy girl thinks back to training and e joys a day with her masters.
Puppy Girl: Hurt: small Drabble for my celebration
#The last of us#dark#dark!joel#the last of us hbo#dark joel miller#joel miller#tommy miller#non con#joel miller smut#tommy miller x reader#tommy dark tommy miller#dddne#dead dove do not eat#dead dove#the wrong way series
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𝗔𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗟 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝟭)
.☘︎ ݁˖ = BLACK/POC WORKS | 23' FIC REC M.LIST
MCU
BUCKY BARNES
Bumblebee Series: 1 ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 ⎢ 7 ⎢ — @angrythingstarlight .☘︎ ݁˖
Soft!Dark!Mafia!Bucky x Runaway Bride!Reader — @angrythingstarlight .☘︎ ݁˖
Peachy Sweet: 1 ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 — @straywords .☘︎ ݁˖
FRANK CASTLE/THE PUNISHER
Apple Bottom Jeans (+Billy Russo) — @bubuslutty
#15 w/ Frank Castle — @bits-and-babs
Bambi With Fangs ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 — @bubuslutty
Bring Me Home — @frvnkcastles
Bakery AU — @devils-dares
Love Language (+ Billy Russo) — @bubuslutty
Imagine #1,044 (+ Shane Walsh) — @komotionlessqueenmm
Primal — @darlingshane
Instagram AU — @amhrosina
You’re Everything I Never Knew I Needed — @lemon-world1
Cowboy!Frank — @rrestrella
Really Bad Week — @chvoswxtch
“Come here…Hey! I said come. Here.” — @bullet-prooflove
Sanctuary — @glossysoap
Biting Truth — @narcolini
Soft Morning Sex w/ Frank — @amhrosina
Cutesy Blurb — @thyme-in-a-bubble
Frank w/ An Inexperienced Reader — @amhrosina
STEVE ROGERS
His Inheritance: Chapter 26 ⎢ Chapter 27 — @jtargaryen18
FRANK CASTLE + MATT MURDOCK
Spelling Out “I Love You” — @amhrosina
Baking w/ Matty and Frankie — @chvoswxtch
An Unexpected Delight — @amhrosina
TWD
GLENN RHEE
CDC — @collecting-stories
Feel Me — @nikkisheep
Never Stopped Looking — @glennrheesworld
Sex w/ Glenn — @strgrlxox
PEAKY BLINDERS
LUCA CHANGRETTA
Busted — @mlmxreader
Our Scars — @arzennn
MICHAEL GRAY
Behind On That Cute Date ⎢ Chocolate Pie — @anonymooseforever007
ALFIE SOLOMONS
Airport Snow — @there-goes-thefighter
Angel of Birmingham — @darkdevasofdestruction
Quid Pro Quo — @scorpiussage
THOMAS SHELBY
Dragon’s Den — @pherelesytsia
Afternoon Shelby Chaos ⎢The Boys ⎢Dad!Tommy ⎢Mr. Giraffe — @teenwolf-theoriginals
Mama Bear — @dlmlufics
Arthur + Cards — @dlmlufics
Big Sister Bess — @dlmlufics
Escape to Me — @daisyblinder
GEN. PEAKY BLINDERS
The Proposal (Shelby!Reader) — @anonymooseforever007
TGM
COURT GENTRY/SIERRA SIX
Take a Nap Amidst the Storm — @lloydsbitch
Home — @welcome-to-my-multiverse
SIERRA SIX + LLOYD HANSEN
Ready for Destruction (Prologue) — @holylulusworld
STRANGER THINGS
JIM HOPPER
Handcuffed — @thisfanisgonesorry
Taking Control — @call-me-little-sunshine84
Workplace Gossip — @darling-i-read-it
Batch of Cookies — @sunnylands-world
Hopper x Sleepy!Reader — @ddejavvu
DBF!Hopper — @ddejavvu
Final Essay — @keerysteacake
Plain Old Man — @ddejavvu
Out of the Woods — @mypoisonedvine
DBF!Hopper — @empresskylo
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minors please do not interact with any of my nsfw posts! (my tag is #nsfw. )
♡ if you wanna be tagged in something that's nsfw you have to have your age in you bio, or at least confirm you're an adult pls!
♡ also please don’t send me a request if you’ve already sent it to another blog!
♡ i won’t take requests about aaron as reader’s dad. i can’t write him as a platonic father figure bc i do not like him platonically!
my requests for Aaron Hotchner and Greg Montgomery are open <3
my nsfw blog: @hotchsprincess 🩷
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
series
Ivy - complete (nsfw)
any other world (nsfw)
my fics
Saturday Night (nsfw)
Lonely
aaron comforting you after a long day
making up with aaron after a fight
young!aaron helping you deal with stress
aaron is your secret admirer - part 2
a fight with aaron
enemies to lovers
hotch has a wet dream about you (nsfw)
jealous (toxic) hotch
enemies to lovers - kiss in the rain
meet cute in a bookstore
aaron taking care of you while you're sick
being hotch's secret admirer - part 2
halloween blurb
riding hotch's thigh (nsfw)
aaron profiles you in bed (nsfw)
aaron spoils you on your birthday
a fight with aaron
jealous hotch while undercover
piggy back ride
aaron helps you through an anxiety attack
aaron helps you with a bad habit
more birthday spoiling
morgan catches you and hotch making out
getting back with ex bf!hotch
fluff after your first time with aaron
energetic!reader ranting to aaron
sex while watching a movie (nsfw)
aaron talks to jack about you
angry/jealousy sex (nsfw)
champagne problems
brat tamer hotch (nsfw)
hotch has a soft spot for you
soft and romantic sex
ex bf!hotch
hotch and jack trying to win you back
jealous dbf!hotch
aaron helps you after a family loss
touch starved!hotch
aaron takes care of you after a long day
cocky aaron
jealous aaron
falling asleep in hotch's hotel room
staying with hotch & jack
route 66
jack outs your relationship to the team
aaron comforts you
hotch is jealous of your celebrity crush (aka thomas gibson lol)
condescending aaron (nsfw)
studying with college!hotch
hotch & swiftie!reader
aaron braids your hair
going to hotch's room bc you're scared of a thunderstorm
shy!reader who's not so shy (nsfw)
hotch finds out you want to be called princess
showing off your bf to your friends
princess treatment for sick!reader
accidentally texting your boyfriend's dad while drunk - part 2 (nsfw)
spending the night at your dad's best friend's house - part 2 (nsfw)
mr. scratch
fic recs
headcanons
jack calls you mom for the first time
aaron has heart eyes for you
stealing aaron’s snacks
first mother’s day with your hotchners
sitting in aaron's lap
sweet sex with aaron (nsfw)
social media aus
instagram povs: 1, 2, 3
bau group chat
texts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
twitter: 1, 2
moodboards
life with aaron
being young!hotch's gf
life with young!hotch - fall edition
life with aaron 2
princess treatment
Greg Montgomery x Reader Masterlist
#aaron hotchner#hotch#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch x reader#criminal minds fic#greg montgomery#greg montgomery x reader#dharma and greg#hotch 🪐#greg 🧸
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masterlist
requests are open!
i don't update on a set schedule, just whenever the mood strikes! i dont have a lot up right now, but i promise i'm working on it!
House Of The Dragon
Aemond Targaryen
My Best Friend
part one
The Swordsmen/Harsh are the Gods (two-part series)
part one part two
Peaky Blinders
Thomas Shelby
Little Girl Gone (series)
part one part two part three part four part five part six
The Sapphire Ring (request)
part one
Unknown / Nth (one shot)
part one
Gardens of Babylon (request)
part one
Formula 1
Carlos Sainz
Wrangled (social media au)
part one
Call Of Duty
Simon "Ghost" Riley
dbf!Simon Riley (series)
break-ups
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daddy issues au
summary: you've been craving your father's affection for years and after endless heartbreak, his best friend shows you how to be loved.
pairing: dadsbestfriend!thomas x brisson!reader
warnings: major age gap !! thomas is 40. absent father, lots of angst, anxiety, sadness, fear, hurt/comfort, regarding smut: innocence kink and daddy kink. other warnings will be specific to each fic.
playlist
tags
moodboards
series —
for hockey
part one
when your brother and dad are out for practice, you're met with unexpected company in your house.
going grape
part two
you and thomas get close after you meet some of your dad's friends for the first time and he has to reintroduce himself to hide suspicion.
dinner time
part three
you find out something that upsets you and leads you to avoid dinner but thomas comes to find you anyway.
the unknown remedy
part four
thomas shuts himself off from everyone for a couple days, resulting in a surprise from you and his friends. you find out one of his secrets and he gets vulnerable, leading you to reassure him that everything'll be okay.
imagines —
i'm not your dad
when you're in distress and call your dad to come get you, he sends his best friend instead.
force him to love you
after running out of the house because of a fight with your dad, thomas has to find you.
don't call me baby
brendan brings home a girl who makes you cry and he feels the need to defend you.
blurbs —
more blurbs under #dbf!thomas thoughts
teasing him at the dinner table
suggested 18+ but not close to nsfw, use your discretion | thom and y/n teasing each other when bren has him over.
his sounds of pain
dbf!thom taking y/n with him when he gets a new tattoo and she gets turned on by his little grunts and winces.
school supplies
dbf!thom taking you shopping for something you need.
brendan catching you together
suggested 18 + | dbf!thomas about them kissing or doing the devils tango and her dad walking in.
being there for you
part two
on senior night when everyone’s parents are supposed to show up for photos and celebrations, y/n thinks she’s gonna be the only one without someone there until thom shows up.
your first tattoo
dbf!thom being there for your first tattoo.
fights and rainy days
first time sleeping in dbf!thom bed.
cooking class
thom teaching you how to cook since your dad is always so busy with your brother.
pain and promises
thom helping you through your period.
honey butter
you're studying for a big test and you're super stressed so thom offers to help you.
convincing him
thom talks your dad into letting you get a tattoo.
you love him more
you tell your dad he treats you unfairly.
invisible
you have a breakdown in front of thom because you feel alone.
#thomas bordeleau#dadsbestfriend!thomas#dbf!thomas#dbf!bords#dbf!thomas x reader#brendan brisson#dad!brendan#dad!briss#thomas bordeleau x reader#umich hockey#umich hockey imagine#sj sharks imagine#vgk imagine#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#hockey boy imagine#daddy issues au#daddy issues au masterlist
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Temptation ch.2
Co-written with @fhatbhabie
No Outbreak!Dbf!Joel x Fem!Plus size!Reader
Series Masterlist
Rating: EXPLICIT 18+
Summary: After you break things off with your toxic boyfriend, you move back home with your dad. His best friend and neighbor, Joel Miller, takes an interest in you. But you’re the one who has to convince him to make the first move.
A/N: okay, we’re too excited for you guys to read more so we will be posting a new chapter (on this account) every 4 or 5 days. Reminder: reader and Sarah are both in their mid 20s, Joel is in his mid 50s, reader’s dad is in his early 50s.
Chapter warnings: teasing, a little roughness, talk of food/cooking/eating, mention of boner 👀
Divider art by: @saradika
Over the next couple weeks you leave your curtains open all day, every day.
You never do catch Joel watching you, but you’ve seen him sleeping a couple of times. He goes to sleep around 9pm, you’ve noticed. You’re still looking for a job so you stay up late pretty much every night.
You’ve made a habit of changing clothes in front of the window, usually faced away so that Joel thinks you don’t know he’s watching. He’s gotta be watching…
Sarah comes back from college today which meant you’d definitely be seeing Joel sometime this week for dinner with him, Sarah, and your dad.
Like she read your mind, Sarah sent you a text.
Sarah: picking up Starbucks. Almost home. Want anything?
You: iced chai latte. You’re a lifesaver!
In a matter of 10 minutes you heard the honk of a small car outside.
You went out and noticed Joel’s truck was gone. He must still be at work today. It was nearing 3pm which meant he’d hopefully be home in a couple hours or so.
“Sarah!” You smile as you walk across the yard to her car.
“Hey!” She shouts back with a grin.
You round her side of the car and give her a hug.
“Girl, what have you been doing?” Sarah pulls back and looks you up and down.
“What do you mean?” You blush a little.
“You’re just like… way hot.” She laughs.
“Oh, you know, had that post breakup makeover and here I am.” You flip your hair dramatically.
“Okay, well you’re gonna have to tell me how to make my boobs look like yours.” She giggles and reaches into the car before leaning back out and handing you your drink.
���Ha. Thanks.” You smile. “How much do I owe you?”
“You’re kidding.” She snorts and closes the driver door before opening the trunk. “It’s on me.”
“Thank you.” You nod. “Can I help carry anything?”
“Nah, I’m okay. Thanks though.” She pulls a medium sized suitcase and a small backpack out of her trunk. She slings the backpack over her shoulder before walking past you toward the house.
You guys talked from time to time but you hadn’t had the chance to tell her you moved back yet.
“You just happen to be visiting right now, or…?” Sarah asked.
You followed her into the house after she unlocked the door. “Uh… no. Actually I moved back in with my dad a couple weeks ago.”
“What about Thomas?” She asks.
You rub the back of your neck awkwardly as she sets her things down. “We broke up. It was… messy.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, Y/n.” She frowns.
“I’ve realized pretty quickly that I’m better off without him.” You shrug.
“Good.” She nods. “Good for you.” She takes a sip of her coffee and sits on the couch, patting the spot next to her.
You sat down by her and she turned on the tv to a music station. “Alright. Tell me everything.”
You took a deep breath and a long sip from your iced latte. “Okay…”
You tell her all the details. The way that your boyfriend had stopped caring about you; both in bed and out of it. The way he would spend way more time out with his friends than with you. Stopped holding your hand in public. All the bullshit he put you through.
Sarah then told you about the nasty breakup with her boyfriend that she’d been dating since senior year of high school.
“At least you didn’t get cheated on.” Sarah frowned. “But still, I’m sorry you went through that.”
“Same to you. Men are… the worst.” You roll your eyes.
“The worst, right?!” She laughs.
You giggle too but stop when you hear the front door open. You turn to look and see Joel stopped in his tracks in the doorway.
“Dad!” Sarah jumps up and runs over to Joel to hug him.
“Hey, honey.” He smiles and hugs her back, sneaking a glance at you. A glance that didn’t go unnoticed by you.
You feel yourself start to blush so you look away, reading the music related fun fact on the bottom of the tv screen.
“So glad to have you home.” Joel says as he and Sarah both pull out of the hug.
“Me too.” She nods.
“Hi, Y/n.” Joel gives you a modest wave.
“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You give him a half smile, trying to seem unbothered. After all… he is old. Maybe he just forgot to text you back… but you doubt it.
Sarah doesn’t pick up on the slight tension in the room, thankfully. “Okay, dad, we have to have spaghetti for dinner tonight.”
“Gonna have to run out for some bread and sauce.” Joel tells her.
“I can grab it.” You stand up. “Been meaning to run to the store anyways.”
“Thanks, Y/n.” Sarah smiles.
You nod and head for the door now that Joel was out of the way. “See you guys in an hour.”
“Bye!” Sarah calls as you close the door behind you to leave.
***
You go to the store for bread and spaghetti sauce, also picking up a few snacks and hygiene items for yourself. When you get home you decide to change your bra out for a push-up. Not that you really needed it, but… you wanted to show off to Joel tonight.
You left the rest of your outfit the same, not wanting anyone to say anything about you changing between an hour ago and now.
You were in a black v-neck shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. Around your wrist is a dainty chain bracelet. You’re wearing some purple converse too. Your hair is down, kind of wavy at the moment.
Looking over yourself in your mirror, you decide you look good. You hear your dad come in the house and you go downstairs to greet him.
“Hey.” You say as you walk into the kitchen to see your dad grabbing a beer from the fridge. “Long day at work?” You laugh.
“You have no idea.” Your father shakes his head.
“Spaghetti at the Miller’s tonight. Let’s go.” You smile and grab the food off the counter.
“Sounds good. I didn’t know what I was going to have for dinner anyways.” Your dad shrugs and follows you next door.
You knock and then let yourself in. “Hello!” You call out as you walk in.
“Come on in!” Joel calls from the kitchen.
You and your dad go into the house and past the living room to the kitchen.
“Hey!” Sarah smiles wide. “Oh hey, Mr. Y/l/n!”
“Sarah.” Your dad grins and gives her a hug.
You and Joel make eye contact across the room until Sarah’s head moves back and blocks your vision of him. She looks at you. “Thanks for going to the store.” She takes the bag from your hands.
“Totally.” You nod with a smile.
You see Sarah walk over to the stove where Joel looks to be stirring noodles. She elbows his side and whispers something.
“Uh, yeah, thank you.” Joel smiles at you.
You stifle a laugh. “…anything we can help with?”
“Yeah, you guys butter and season the bread. Noodles and sauce are almost done.” Sarah says as she pours the jar of sauce into a pan of cooked, ground hamburger meat.
You grab the bread, getting next to Joel to open the fridge and get the butter. “Can you hand me a couple knives?” You turn to Joel.
He doesn’t look directly at you, one hand still stirring the noodles while the other reaches into a drawer on his right to grab two knives. He hands them to you. “There ya go.”
“Thanks, Mr. Miller.” You smile even though he can’t see it.
You all finish preparing dinner, then plate up and move to the dining room to a square table. Joel sits on your left, Sarah across from you, and your dad on your right.
You all start to dig in, finally making some small talk as you got more and more full.
“How’s school going?” Your dad asks Sarah.
“Fantastic. I’ve got a prototype made for a little project I’m doing. It’s gonna change the game on microbiology.” She answers with a smug grin.
“I’d love to see it.” Your dad says.
“Okay!” Sarah replies excitedly as she stands. “Come on, it’s in my car.”
Your dad gets up and before you or Joel could say anything, the two are headed for the front door and out to Sarah’s car.
You don’t know what gives you the bravery to do it, but you say something to Joel after a couple moments of silence. “You never texted me back.”
Joel’s head snaps up, his eyes shooting to yours from his plate. “Huh?” He visibly blushes.
“I asked you a question and you never answered.” You shrug.
“I don’t…” he sighs. “I can’t be lookin’ at you like that. ‘S not appropriate.”
You lean back in your chair with a laugh and a shake of your head. You roll your eyes and then focus them on Joel once more. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t fuck me… right here, right now, if given the opportunity?” You cross your arms over your chest and press your tits together even more.
His eyes glance down at your cleavage for just a moment.
“Honey, you couldn’t handle what I want to give you.” Joel taunts.
You’re the one blushing now. You gulp and sit up, reaching under the table to put a hand on his thigh.
He suddenly grabs your wrist, tight, gripping it so hard you could feel your bracelet making indents in your skin. You look up at him through your lashes, “I’m sure I can handle more than you think. Look at me, you won’t break me… Mr. Miller.” You smirk and grip his thigh.
His hand tightens around your wrist.
“Okay, that- that kinda hurts.” You laugh nervously.
He tosses your hand away. “Told you.” He sneers.
Fuck. That was some sort of test? Shit, you liked the pain but you thought it best to let him know he was hurting you. Your panties were slick with wetness at this point and all you wanted to happen was for him to bend you over the table and have his way with you.
Sarah and your father walk back inside as if on queue, still deep in conversation about microorganisms and different things they do and how to study them. You have a hard time keeping up, not really interested in the subject as much.
They sit back down at the table as they bring their conversation to a pause.
Sarah looks around at all three of you. “Wanna watch a movie?”
“Sure-“ your dad starts.
You interrupt him. “Actually… I’m not feeling very good. I think I’m gonna go to bed early.” You grab your stomach to imply that it was hurting.
“Aww, sorry sweetie.” Your dad pats your shoulder.
“I’ll be alright. Just need to lay down.” You smile weakly and get up. “Bye, guys.”
As you walk to the door you hear all three of them, even Joel, say either goodnight or goodbye.
You walk home across the yard and head up to your room. You get out your laptop, strip out of your pants and sit in your bed watching Netflix for a little bit. You pause it when something catches your eye.
Joel’s bedroom light.
You saw it turn on in your peripheral and then looked up, watching Joel walk into his room and close the door behind himself.
You watch as he takes off his shirt and sits down on his bed, facing you.
He leans over and puts his elbows on his knees before rubbing his eyes.
You get up and stand by your window, hoping he’ll glance your way. He finally looks up, doing a double take when he sees you.
You bite your lip, locking eyes with him as you slowly run your palms up your sides and over your breasts. You see him mouth the word “fuck.”
You gave him a small smirk and slipped off your t shirt leaving you in just your bra and panties. The bra you had on was a bit too small having your breast pudging out of the tops of the cups. You looked over at Joel and felt his eyes burning holes into your skin. You gave him a small wave and quickly closed the curtains leaving him alone in his room with his cock trying to break itself free from his jeans.
#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#pedro pascal#imagine#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel the last of us#joel tlou#joel#joel miller x plus size reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x reader#dbf#dbf joel miller#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller#Sarah killer#reader insert#plus size reader#curvy#curvy reader#temptation#the last of us#tlou#tlou smut#the last of us smut#dbf fic
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Don’t let me go - part 1
Summary: After the death of her Father, Y/n finds solace in the arms of her father’s best friend... Aaron hotchner.
Pairing: Dbf!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
Series warnings: death, murder, smut (I plan to write lots of smut😈) age gap (reader is 18 or older and Aaron is in his 40s I think)
This is just the beginning so it's pretty short, not a lot of plot development and nothing really happens it just kinda the prologue I guess you could say, I have a bunch of chapters already written so if you guys like it I'll post them more frequently. Thank you so much for your time and let me know what you think 😁
💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜
Y/n sits on the couch in her living room, playing with the hem of her black dress as she watches the room move around her. People she’s met maybe once or twice in her life or never at all, try and tell her they know exactly how she feels and what she’s going through. They come and sit next to her and talk to her for what feels like hours and at the same time only seconds, she never really says anything back because she’s been tuned out since the second person that came and talked to her, and yet somehow, they don’t stop, they just keep talking, adding to the ever growing white noise in her head formed by the constant “Sorry for your loss.” “Your father was such a great man.” and “when he was your age…” they say the same meaningless things in an effort to help but they really just make it worse. The poor girl just wants to scream at the next person to say a word to her, and honestly, she just might.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath then she feels someone sit next to her and she swears if they say a word, she going to lose it. She waits with her eyes closed praying for them not to speak. And after several long moments, to her surprise they stay silent. She opens her eyes to find her father’s best friend, Aaron. He’s looking at her with this sad look she hasn’t seen on anyone else since it happened. He lays his open hand between them, hoping that she’ll take it. She laces her fingers with his, feeling comfort in the roughness of his skin. He gently squeezes her hand which she returns. Her eyes fill with tears, after trying to fight them back all day she finally let go. Laying her head on his shoulder she does her best to find solace in the silence, he doesn’t care that she’s soaking his shirt in her tears he just wishes he could fix this for her.
Y/n has always been close with her father’s friend, mostly because she was so close with her father. She went with her dad everywhere she could, he was one of her best friends, she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to go on without him. And she guesses maybe that’s how Aaron feels too.
She brings her hand up to hold onto his bicep before asking in a soft broken tone, “How’re you doing?” looking up at her while still having her head resting on his shoulder, he just shakes his head, closing his eyes while letting his head fall against the back of the couch. She doesn’t know how to comfort him and it’s killing her, that’s always been her job, comforting other people, but now she can’t, she just doesn’t know how to anymore. She feels broken in so many ways, she’s not herself anymore, there’s a part missing she doesn’t know if she’ll ever get back.
“I should probably get going soon.” He says unable to meet her eyes, knowing if he did, he would have to look at the pain lingering in them.
“Please don’t go yet.” She whispers, holding on to him a little tighter. She’s willing to beg if that’s what it will take.
“I’ll stay for as long as I can, alright sweetheart?” she closes her eyes again just for a moment to breath in the comforting scent that follows Aaron. Then as she opens them back up she finds her little brother placing his small hands on her leg.
“Hey, Benji,” she says sitting up straight.
“Can I sit with you and Uncle Aaron?” He asks. She can see the sadness in his eyes, it makes her heart break a little more.
“Yeah Benji, of course. C’mon.” She helps him up and he lays across both hers and Aaron’s laps, with his head resting on her legs. She leans back into Aaron, and he puts his arm over her shoulders as she mindlessly plays with Ben’s hair.
Aaron’s phone buzzes after a perfect moment of being together. He checks it and to Y/n’s disappointment it’s his ex-wife. She hates even the thought of Haley. All Aaron did was try his best to love and take care of her and their son Jack, but no that wasn’t enough for her. She had to go and cheat on him.
How stupid do you have to be to cheat on Aaron? There’s no one better than Aaron. He’s perfect. How could she not realize she had everything Y/n wants? Haley is the only person Y/n genuinely hates. Perhaps she’s a little bias and truth be told she has no idea what all actually goes into keeping a marriage alive. She doesn’t know about all the ways Aaron failed as a husband, always prioritizing the job over his family. But even if she did know, shed make excuses for him, rationalizing it in her own mind, because to her he can do no wrong.
She practically worships the older man, he could tell her anything and she’d believe him without a second thought, she’d do anything if it made him proud of her. She just wants him to notice her. She thinks him being an FBI agent is the most amazing thing in the world, she wants to join after college, her goal is to one day join Aaron’s team. Aaron always tries to steer her in any other direction, encouraging her to pursue anything else. She doesn’t understand that he’s trying to protect her. She doesn’t know about all the horrors he’s faced. He doesn’t want her to be ruined by the hardness of the field. He wants her to stay sweet and innocent, like the way he’s always known her to be.
But he doesn’t see the bit of something that lurks behind her eyes. Just sitting and waiting for the moment to push forward and take over. Do all the unspeakable things she secretly longs to.
“I have to go now. I’m really sorry.” Aaron apologizes, giving Y/n a short hug then moving the small child off his lap. “I’ll check in tomorrow. Maybe I’ll bring jack by so he and ben can spend some time together.” Y/n nods, not speaking out of fear of crying again. He pat’s ben’s head as a goodbye, giving Y/n one last sad smile before going to the children’s mother to let her know he’s leaving.
Y/n contemplates asking to go with him. She doesn’t want to get stuck in the house with a memory of her father around every corner. But she knows her family needs her, more than she needs an escape. Her brother definitely needs her, she’s fairly certain her brother doesn’t fully comprehend all of this, but no one really took the time to explain to him what death really was. All they were told the day it happened was, “Kids… your father was in an accident on his way to work this morning, he didn’t make it. He's gone.” After that, their mother mostly shut down. In fact, Y/n has barely seen her mother the last few days, with the only exception being when other people were around.
Y/n still doesn’t understand how her parents ended up together, they literally couldn’t be more different. She genuinely doesn’t know of a single thing they had in common. Her father was so honest and real, while her mother has always had up a front, never showing her true self to anyone but the people she lives with. Y/n doesn’t understand how her father, who was so loving and kind, could be with someone so manipulative and terrible. But somehow her father always seemed to be happy. And he always used to make everyone around him happy.
Y/n might not realize but she inherited that from her father; the ability to make someone smile just by being around them. She’s always had a glow to her that radiates to everyone near her. But not today. Not this last week. It almost feels like there’s a dark cloud covering the whole neighborhood. She can’t smile no matter how hard she tries to force it; all she can do is cry.
#aaron hotchner#hotch x you#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds#george foyet#george foyet x reader#jack hotchner#papa rossi#matthew gray gubler#thomas gibson#aaron hotchner smut#dad's best friend#forbidden relationship#dbf!hotch
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My Follower Celebration Has Come to an End
i reached 1K about two weeks ago and i did a celebration on it that ended on the 13th of August. now, here are some new characters i will be adding outside of this event!
Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk. He will be 18-19 in my fics since his age was never officially verified since he said 3 years and online he's between 16-19.)
Peter B. Parker (Spider-Man. I still don't write cheating fics so if you want romantic, he will be SINGLE AND SO WILL READER)
Miles Morales (Spider-Man. PLATONIC ONLY BECAUSE HE'S UNDERAGE AND IM 21. I FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WRITING ROMANTICALLY FOR UNDERAGE CHARACTERS)
the requests ill be releasing soon are from the 1K celebration, but my requests are open for all characters including Miguel O'Hara, the Moon Knight System (Steven, Marc and Jake), Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy ONLY), Santiago Garcia (Pope), Frankie Morales (Catfish/Fish), Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale ONLY), Thomas Shelby, Alfie Solomons, Eddie Brock, etc.
I write NSFW and SFW content as well as AU's (soulmate, professor/student, dbf, etc.
still debating if i wanna write for video games though...ill return with a new post when i make my decision.
#hobie brown x reader#peter b x reader#miles morales x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#jake lockley x reader#jonathan crane x reader#santiago garcia x reader#frankie morales x reader#bruce wayne x reader#thomas shelby x reader#alfie solomons x reader#eddie brock x reader#marvel#mcu#marvel universe#dc universe#peaky blinders#triple frontier
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ChloeAngelic series playlists
Here are the songs I was/am listening to while writing my different series, in case you want something to listen to while reading or want to be immersed in the vibes ✨ I often listen to the slowed&reverbed versions of all these songs as well.
Reflection of the Moon - post-outbreak Jackson era Joel Miller
Fall In Love (Feat. Samiyyah Dixon) - Slum Village
Resentment - PARTYNEXTDOOR
Yebba's Heartbreak - Drake & Yebba series title origin
Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish
Didn't Cha Know - Erykah Badu
Toxic Trait - Stormzy & Fredo
Slow Wine - J-Soul
Her Old Friends - PARTYNEXTDOOR
Too Many Nights - Metro Boomin
Yes To Heaven - Lana Del Rey
Somewhere to Start - Javier Peña
Smooth Operator - Sade series title origin
Tuyo - Rodrigo Amarante
Candy - Plan B
Mera - Tainy
La Tortura - Shakira
Playing Dangerous - Lana Del Rey
Cola - Lana Del Rey
Like A Tattoo - Sade
Without a Warning - brat tamer/dbf Joel Miller
West Coast x Billie Bossa Nova - Lana Del Rey & Billie Eilish series title origin
Afrodisiac - Brandy
Venice Bitch - Lana Del Rey
Black Is The Color Of My True Love's Hair (Jaffa remix) - Nina Simone (referenced in the prologue!!!)
I Feel Like I'm Drowning - Two Feet
Young Boy Problems - Roy Woods
Get Throwed - Don Toliver
Nights - Frank Ocean
If Looks Could Kill - Destroy Lonely
Freak In You - PARTYNEXTDOOR
Nowhere To Run - Ryan Trey & Bryson Tiller
Love Jones - Leon Thomas
Enjoy!!!
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RIRI GIRL
IM EATING UP THIS DBF THOMAS AU
LIKE OMFG NEVER STOP
IM ADDICTED
I AM SITTING IN MY ROOM JUST RE READING CAUSE I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF IT
omg guys i think i have problems
someone help (or not)
@hugheshugs (go look at the dbf thomas stuff RIGHT NOW if you’re comfortable ofc)
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Last Seen Blogs
mrbopst
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We Have Thoughts !
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