#sorry for the late reply hon!!
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your gorgeous graphics makes me wanna leave photoshop forever because i'm not worthy in the presence of The One And Only - The Queen herself😭❤️ ohmygod, i'm sorry but you're so talented and i cry everytime when i see your posts on my dash T^T
OMGG KEEIII!!!! DON'T SAY THAT DARLlIIIING!!! your gfx are so awesome as well my love dhfvbsjdk i love them so much!!! *hugs you super tight* thank you so much for the compliments and for liking my kacchan edit you flatter me with your words honey!! but gosh i want to see more of your stuff!!! they are really beautiful honey seriously!!! been loving your sailor moon ones so so much!! you deserve as much love and prise as you gave to me keii!! hehe <33333 love you and thank you again for always enjoying my works ; U ; it motivates me so much <33333 hope you are having a great weekend!! love youu!!! *chu*~~
#reply#lovely messages#friends#serizawazs#sorry for the late reply hon!!#had to finish some work this week!!
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I’m the anon that asked about your headcannons for sladick and let me just say: THANK YOU SO MUCH
Your way with words is incredible I love reading anything you post I always know it’s going to give me an emotional reaction.
So thank you for giving me such an incredible response!
I'm glad you liked it, love 💕💕 Thank you again for asking about this in the first place, I love talking about them haha so thank you for listening to me babble!
And knowing you feel this way about my silly writing warms my heart 🥺 You're honestly making my day, I'm gonna treasure your sweet words forever 🥰 Hope you're having a great day 💕
#sorry for the late reply hon i lost your ask in notification ocean#you guys are too sweet 🥺#i have the best anons#my reply#anon#commenting
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tone . ݁₊ ⊹ k.hj
hongjoong x reader
18+ mdni
: 985 words, smut, auralism/voice kink, fingering, some dirty talk :
day 5 of fff24 (catching up since i got sick (╥ᆺ╥；)) ♡
"I'm sorry I'm so late, baby."
Hongjoong's voice pulled you out of the light sleep you'd fallen into. A smile played on your lips as you felt your boyfriend crawl into bed behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close.
"I got so caught up I didn't realise what time it was," he whispered. He didn't sound sleepy at all, even though when you opened your eyes to squint at your phone the screen displayed a staggering 3:00 AM. You hummed softly as one of Hongjoong's hands slid up your pyjama top to rest against your stomach. "I'm sorry for waking you up."
"It's okay. Your feet are cold," you mumbled, which made Hongjoong giggle behind you. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and tangled his feet even more with yours, pulling you both flush together. "Keep talking, Joongie."
"Okay," Hongjoong murmured, his fingers moving back and forth against your skin. "I missed you all day. Missed hearing you talk, and your footsteps around the apartment. I kept wondering what you were up to. What did you get up to, hon?"
Your mind was so fuzzy from listening to Hongjoong talk that you almost forgot to reply.
"Uhm," you stalled, pressing your thighs together as you tried to remember what you did while Hongjoong was out. "I finished some work in the morning after you left and in the afternoon I watched a movie... Some supernatural thing, like a rip-off of The Ring."
"Just a typical day, huh?" Hongjoong hummed, stretching his fingers out to let his pinky rest beneath the waistband of your panties. When you mumbled out a soft 'uh-huh', Hongjoong exhaled quietly, amused by your sleepy voice. You felt butterflies fill your stomach at the sound of it. "Mine was the same, just finishing things up and brainstorming new- hey, baby, why're you squirming so much?"
"Nothing," you huffed softly, though you could feel your cheeks heating up when he called you out. Hongjoong grunted, a small sound that told you he didn't really believe your reply, and then sighed so that his breath fanned out over the back of your neck. "Just finish telling me about your day?"
"Okay, well... I've been picking up the guitar more often. Maybe tomorrow I'll show you the songs I've learned," he rambled on, not pausing to mention the way you were almost constantly shifting your thighs, seeking friction to accompany the warmth growing between your legs at the sound of Hongjoong's voice. "...I was going to get an energy drink but one of the staff members kept going on about how they aren't good for you so I ended up getting a coffee instead. But then later on I saw Wooyoungie with one and nobody was telling him to be careful so I don't know what that was about."
You made a non-committal sound in response, trying to pretend like you were listening when in reality Hongjoong's words were all getting muddled in your head, blurred around the edges and scratching an itch you hadn't noticed was there.
"Baby?" Hongjoong's voice called softly.
"Hm?" you replied, pouting at his voice coming to a stop even if it was just to call you a petname.
"Are you getting off on this?" he asked, and this time you could hear a smirk in his voice. You stuttered, trying to come up with a believable answer, but Hongjoong cut you off with a giggle. "It's okay. You're cute. Want me to finish telling you about my day?"
You paused, weighing up your embarrassment against your desire to deal with the sudden wave of arousal so you could get back to sleep. Eventually, the latter won out, and you relaxed in Hongjoong's hold again.
"Yes please," you murmured, feeling like you were asking for a bedtime story. Hongjoong's lips pressed against your shoulder in a feverish kiss before he resumed his earlier ramblings.
This time, as he spoke, his hand slowly moved beneath your panties. When his fingers came into contact with the wetness on your lips his breath hitched momentarily, then his fingers began rubbing circles against your clit with just enough pressure to make your breathing uneven.
"And then we had a meeting to try on some new stage outfits, they got us fitted and everything... The colours seemed sorta off to me but they said that under the stage lights and all of that it'd look fine," he mumbled, his voice slowly becoming rougher around the edges as your arousal became more evident. Your shaky breaths turned into hushed moans, skin tingling everywhere that Hongjoong touched and the pool of arousal in your stomach getting dangerously close to spilling over.
You felt two of his fingers press into you, and as he bent them inside of you his palm rubbed against your clit, making you groan into your pillow. A soft nip to your shoulder made you gasp, Hongjoong's teeth digging into your skin hard enough to leave a mark.
"You're so fucking cute. I come home and don't even say anything dirty to you and here you are, making a mess on my fingers," he mumbled against your skin, his fingers picking up their pace. "All I have to do is talk to you about my day and you're rubbing your thighs together trying to get off. You're so fucking precious."
The way the curse word rolled off of his tongue was enough to push you over the edge, clenching around his fingers as you came hard. Behind you Hongjoong trailed a line of kisses along your skin, lips curved into a smile the whole time.
Once your breathing had slowed back down Hongjoong gave your waist a tight squeeze.
"Let me get you some water baby," he whispered, kissing your temple as he got up. "Then I'll let you get back to sleep."
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Bloated?
Pairing - Paul Lahote x FemaleReader
Summary - Reader starts gaining weight and the pack starts noticing
Warnings - body shaming, kissing, swearing, pregnancy, vomiting, period talk, Jacob being an ass, kinda ooc
Word Count - 3693
Masterlist
Friday, June 6th
"Em?" Y/N asked looking into the mirror at her stomach. "Does my stomach look, I dont know, bloated to you?"
"Um, yeah, maybe a little bit. I dont think it's anything to worry about though." The older woman replied, after looking at the girls stomach.
"I just feel like I'm getting fat. Paul probably notices too." She put her head down.
"Honey, that boy loves you more than anything. You're his whole world. You have nothing to worry about. He imprinted on you and he loves you. Now stop putting yourself down and help me make this food for them animals."
The girl laughed and started getting the table set.
Tuesday, June 10th
"Hm. That's weird."
"What?" Leah asked, the girl staying at her house.
"Nothing, just my period was supposed to start 3 days ago. I'm sure it's fine, this happens sometimes."
"If you're sure, and hurry up Elijah is about to kill Klaus."
Thursday, June 19th
The girl let out a groan, flushing the toilet after being woken up with the sudden urge to vomit.
Saturday, June 21st
All the girls, Emily, Leah, Kim, and Y/N, were all out shopping and having a girls day.
While Leah and Kim were looking through sets of bikinis. Y/N pulled Emily to the side.
"Em, I think I might be pregnant."
"What? Why do you think that??"
"Um, my periods late, my stomach looks bloated, and I've been throwing up. Not to mention Paul made my favorite dinner the other night and I couldn't stand the smell."
"We need to get you a test then, Hon."
***
After Leah and Kim left, Emily let Y/N go into the bathroom to take the test.
Coming out the bathroom, Y/N starts stressing. "What if its positive? What will Paul think? How do I deal with this?"
"Hey. Hey. Just breath. Let's first figure out if you're pregnant or not." Emily calmly says.
"Yeah, you're right." Taking a deep breath she starts to calm, until the timer goes off and her eyes get wide. "Can you check?"
Emily walks into the bathroom and looks at the test, coming out with tears in her eyes. "Um, yeah, you're pregnant"
"Oh mi gosh. Em, what am I supposed to do? Paul and I haven't even talked about kids. What if he doesn't want any?"
"Don't jump to conclusions. Take a couple days to think, and tell Paul when you're ready."
"Thank you, Emily. You always know what to say." The girl wraps her arms around the woman.
Wednesday, June 25th
The imprints made burgers and the pack was having a cookout. Everyone was making their plates. Y/N started to make her plate putting 2 burgers, each with cheese, tomato, onion, and chili. Put a little bit of slaw on the side and some chips.
"Dang girl, you're hungry today." Embry joked, making the girl laugh.
"He's not kidding you are eating a lot more lately." Jacob grumbled.
The girl got quiet and let out a silent "oh".
"What was that? Jacob." Paul growled.
"I'm just saying look at her Paul, everyone here notices how big she's getting. Maybe she should cut back."
After hearing that the girl started to stand up. Paul grabbing her hand. "Its fine, Paul. I'm just gonna go home."
She quietly grabbed her bag and apologized for the inconvenience. "Sorry, I didn't realize I did that. You can have them." Then she walked out the house. Leah chasing after her.
"What the fuck Jacob?!" Paul yelled.
"Paul." Sam warned.
"No Sam. He called her fat, she's not fat."
"We don't need a fight to break out."
"If he didn't want a fight he wouldn't have said anything."
"Paul. Enough."
Paul was shaking horribly. Sam pushed him out the house.
"Really Jacob?!" Jared called, running after Sam and Paul.
"Why is everyone so mad? I just told her how it was. You all can see how much bigger she's getting." Jacob tried to justify himself.
"That doesn't mean that you point it out." Seth told him.
"I know you were all thinking it. Just because I have the guts to tell Paul how it is doesn't make me the bad guy."
"Maybe you should learn the whole story before you go around hurting people."
"Seth. What's that supposed to mean? Seth!"
Seth ran out the house, hoping to find Leah and Y/N.
"Embry? Even you said something."
"I was joking Jake. What you did was uncalled for." Embry scoffed.
"Come on."
"Just stop Jacob." Emily snapped, causing the three left there to widen there eyes.
"Emily. Seriously? You know she's bigger!" Jacob was getting angry.
"Yeah, Jacob. She's eating more and getting bigger, but it's none of your business!" Emily snapped again.
"What if eating so much is hurting her?"
"It's not though, Jacob."
"How do you know??"
"Jacob when she is ready you'll know. Until then shut up."
"Sorry, damn."
***
"Y/N!"
"Y/N"
"Damn, you're fast."
"What do you want Leah?" Y/N sighed as she stopped and turned around, her eyes red and puffy.
"Don't listen to Jacob. He's an asshole."
"I don't care about what Jake said."
"You do or you wouldn't be crying."
"He called me fat Leah. I've never been called that before." She started to tear up. "And it's not even that I'm fat."
"What is it then?"
"Leah...I'm pregnant."
"What!? That's great news."
"Yeah, except for the fact everyone thinks I'm a pig now."
"They do not. If anyone's a pig it's Jacob. Now come on, you need the feed that little one."
***
"Paul!"
"Calm down!"
"Shift back!"
Sam phased into his wolf.
"Paul!"
"He's such an asshole." Paul snarled.
"You need to shift back. Calm down."
"I'm going to rip his throat out."
"Paul!"
"Come on Paul. She needs you." Jared joined.
"I'm trying! I can't control it."
"Calm your thoughts. Breath."
Paul started to shift back, pulling up his shorts in the process. Jared and Sam following shortly after.
***
"Y/N/N! Are you ok? You know Jake doesn't mean to be an ass." Seth tried to reassure the girl.
The girl laughed and grabbed Seth's hands. "Yes. I'm good. Thank you for checking up on me."
It was quiet for a few moments as the trio started walking back to the house. "So..." Seth piped up. "Does she know?"
Leah gasped. "What?! Know?! You told Seth before you told me!"
"He wasn't supposed to find out! He walked in on me having a meltdown about Paul." Y/N defended herself.
"Shit." The girl squeaked. "Paul! He's going to be asking questions. What am I supposed to tell him! I'm not ready. I just found out myself. I need to process this more. Stupid Jacob and his stupid big mouth!"
"Hey! Hey. Just breathe. Paul will understand if you don't want to talk." Leah reassured.
"Are you sure? Because Paul-"
Seth cut the girl off. "She's sure Y/N/N. He wouldn't pressure you into telling him something you don't want to. Now let's go eat I'm sure Little Bit in there is starving."
Both girls let out laughs.
"Um, guys, actually I was just going to go home. I don't wanna face Jacob's apologizes right now."
"Y/F/N you need to eat." Leah demanded.
"Just bring me something when you're finished? Please."
Leah sighed, knowing she wasn't changing the girls decision. "Fine. But you better eat everything I bring you."
"Pinky promise." She held up both her pinkies to Seth and Leah, Seth grabbing her pinky with his, giggling. Leah rolled her eyes, but nevertheless did the same.
"And..." The girl trailed. "Tell Paul that I took his truck. And that I'm ok?"
"So needy." Leah joked, dragging the 'y'.
"But fine I can do that."
"Thank you! You two are the best!"
"We know." They both said at the same time, causing the trio to laugh.
***
Back at home, the girl, took off her shoes and changed into pajama shorts and one of Paul's shirts.
Turning on her and Leah's favorite show to watch, 'The Vampire Diaries'. It was nice to watch people play supernatural creatures. Got their minds off of the real ones that loomed outside.
***
"Finally!" Was the first thing Leah and Seth heard as they walked through the door into Emily's and Sam's.
"Where's Y/N?" Was the second.
Leah was the one to tell Paul the situation.
"So, you just let her leave?" Paul said.
"Yes. She is a grown woman Paul." Leah retorted.
"She didn't even eat."
"I told her I would bring her something."
"I think I should go over there."
"No, you shouldn't." Sam butted in.
"And why not?!"
"Because Paul you just shifted you don't need to do that around her."
"I wouldn't hurt her." Paul glared.
"That's not the point. I said no and my answer is final. You will not go over to Y/N's tonight." Using his alpha voice, making Paul growl and leave the table.
***
"Is it bad that I'm kind of glad Sam did that?" The girl let out to her best friend.
"Yes!" Leah exclaimed.
"I just- I don't know what I would say to him."
"Your fear of confrontation is peeking through."
"Leah! This is serious."
"And I'm being serious. Paul deserves to know."
"I know. I'm just..." The girl let out a sigh. "Scared."
"You should never be scared with him. He looks at you like you're his sun. The thing that is keeping him alive."
"What if he doesn't want a baby? What if this is the one thing he can't handle with me." She whispered.
"That boy would love to start a family with you. The timing may not be ideal, but I've seen the way he looks at you. I saw the way he looked at you before the imprint. You are his literal everything and not just because fate decided you were destined. You were meant to have forever with each other way before fate decided it."
Y/N had tears in her eyes by the time Leah had finished. "I really needed that Leah." She sniffled. "I guess, sometimes, my insecurities take over. I've just been so scared, with the vampires and Bella. There's no time for a baby. Not in his life. He already has so much on him. Why do I need to add more?"
"Quit putting yourself down. You know you come first, when it comes to anything with Paul. A baby is not a burden, or something that just adds pressure. A baby can bring joy and bring people together. Maybe that's what we all need right now."
"Yeah. Maybe you're right."
"No maybe about it. I am right."
"Oh so modest." The girls giggled.
Thursday, June 26th
Awoken to heavy knocks on the front door, both girls growned, having stayed up most of the night talking.
"Y/N. Get the door." Leah grumbled.
"Why me?" The girl whined.
"It's your house."
"You kept me up all night."
"You mean you kept me up all night."
"No."
"Just open the door."
"Fine." She whined, pushing herself out of bed, looking at the clock on her nightstand that read 8:07 am.
Stomping to the door, grumbling profanities the whole way. She pulled the door open only to be greeted with-
"Paul?"
"Hey! I couldn't sleep without making sure you were ok. Jacob was an asshole. He never should have said those untrue things. I love your body and you should too. I think you're beautiful, inside and out. I don't care that you can eat two burgers, I love a woman that can hold her food. Yo-"
"Paul." She cut him off. "As sweet as this is, can we do it later? I'm sorry. Leah kept me up until 5 this morning and all I wanna do is curl up and take a hundred year nap."
"Yeah. Yeah. Of course. Want a cuddle buddy?" A smirk slowly rising on his face.
"You know I could never turn you down." She grinned pulling him inside and onto the couch.
***
By the time the girl woke Paul was already gone, a note in his place, telling her he had patrol but would be back after.
Leah was gone too, so the girl assumed the pack needed her as well.
Grabbing some clothes, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
***
After a much needed shower, Y/N looked out the window and noticed Paul's truck still in the driveway and his keys still on her nightstand.
Grabbing the keys, and getting in the truck, she started her drive to Emily's.
***
"Hey Em." She called, walking inside.
"Heyyyy." Said girl peeked her head out the kitchen. "I need to talk to you."
"Ok, nothing stressful about that sentence at all."
"Have you told Paul?"
"Diving right in, I see." She muttered.
"Huh?" Emily called from the kitchen.
"Oh! Uh- no I haven't."
"Do you know when you're going to? Because I think you should soon, it'll make all this doubt you have go away."
"I don't know. Soon though, promise!"
Tuesday, July 7th
Everyone was gathered around Emily and Sam's table, laughing and joking around. Well, everyone except Jacob he was upset with Bella, which made him brood.
Y/N sat beside Paul, occasionally stealing the tomatoes off his plate, he always put them to the side for her to grab because they were her favorites and he wasn't that fond of them.
Going unnoticed by the pack and the imprints, everytime she'd take one Jacob would roll his eyes and scoff.
Grabbing the last one of Paul's plate and about to put it in her mouth she was stopped by Jacob's rude voice.
"Are you serious?" He scoffed.
Everyone looked around confused as to what his sudden outburst was about.
"Everything ok, Jacob?" Emily asked.
Jacob let out a little laugh and clicked his tongue.
This time Y/N spoke up.
"Are you upset, Jacob?"
"Me? What? No." He paused. "I do think Paul should be though."
"Why would Paul be upset?" You furrowed your eyebrows.
"Because his girlfriend has already had more than enough, but she's still eating. And not just that but taking it off his plate. Do you really need that much food Y/N? All it does is make you fatter, which is definitely not something you need. If anything you need to exercise more." He spat at her.
His outburst caused Kim and Emily to let out gasps. Jared and Paul standing up.
Paul had his mouth open about to say something but before he could Y/N interrupted.
"Paul. It's fine. He can feel the way he feels. I'm just gonna go home."
"No you're not." Emily piped in. "Jacob if you could please leave."
"What?" Jacob exclaimed.
"I asked if you could leave, I expect you to use respect in my house and until I see you give some to Y/N I want you to leave."
"She's not even apart of the pack."
"She's an imprint. We are apart of this pack, now are you gonna apologize or did I need to get Paul to escort you out?"
Jacob scuffed, "I'm sorry I called you fat, it may be true but it was not nice of me to say."
Paul was fuming, "I accept your apology"
"No she doesn't." Paul vented.
"Paul, it's fine I don't wanna cause a fight."
"You're not causing the fight. He is."
"He apologized. That's enough. Let's finish eating, then I have to tell you something."
***
"You wanted to tell me something?" Paul said, as he drove them home.
"Can it wait? I'm really tired and just wanna go to sleep."
"Of course, Sweetheart." He kisses her temple.
Thursday, July 9th
"I'm telling him."
All three girls let out simultaneous screams.
"Finally!" Emily exclaimed.
"Took you long enough" Leah joked.
"I still can't believe you're pregnant." Kim gasped.
"Well maybe I should wait a little longer, maybe until August?" Y/N let out a cheeky grin.
"No!" All three girls yelled.
The guys were on patrol and the imprints had the house to themselves. There was a knock at the door.
The girl laughed as she got up to get the door.
"Are you expecting anyone?" Leah questioned Emily.
"No." Emily whispered out.
"Y/N don't answer that." Leah called.
"Guys I invited someone." Y/N answered back.
"Who? We're your only friends." Leah joked.
Y/N opened the door, only for Bella to be standing awkwardly on the other side.
"Hi! Come in. Come in."
"No." Leah deadpanned.
"I thought it would be nice. Jacob really likes her."
"Why do you care what Jacob thinks? He's an ass."
"He wasn't always one. And a friend of Jake's is a friend of ours."
"Well, I think it was nice of Y/N to invite Bella. Make yourself at home Bella, the guys shouldn't be back for a while so it's just us girls. Right now we're just talking but later we're baking!" Emily clapped.
"Ok." Bella squeaked out.
"I don't think we've met. I'm Kim." She introduced herself.
"Bella." She said and waved.
"Well sit down, come on." Emily waved her over. "You ok if we still talk about.."
"Of course! As long as you promise not to tell the guys." Y/N put on her best serious face and looked Bella dead in her eyes.
"I barely talk to them."
"You can't tell Jacob."
"I won't tell Jacob."
"Ok..well I'm pregnant, the baby is Paul's and I haven't told him yet."
"Omg. Congratulations."
"Thank you! I'm kinda in this adrenaline thing right now and I'm hoping it won't wear off by the time Paul gets here." The girls giggled.
"So. Boys!" Emily exclaimed. "Jared?"
"We're really good. He's the greatest. The other day he tried to make me breakfast in bed, he got up really early, my parents were out of town, word of advice Em, never and I mean ever let Jared in the kitchen. It was sweet though he brought me fried eggs and bacon, only all of it was black." Kim laughed at the memory. "And I have a burnt spot on the wall in my kitchen, he still won't tell me what happened."
"He's such a klutz."
"But he makes it so adorable!"
The girls laughed at how in love she was.
"I already told y'all all my boy struggles." Y/N threw her hands up. "What about Sam?" She wiggled her eyebrows, causing the girls to let out giggles.
"Sam is..." Emily let out a sigh, "Sam is perfect. The wedding is soon, as you all know. But enough about me I wanna know about your love life Leah. Oh, and Bella would you like anything to drink, we've got wine and water, sorry not much."
"I'm good. Thank you." Bella muttered, still awkward.
"Leahhhh. Love life. Go." Emily may be a little tipsy.
"Can't talk about something that's non-existent."
"Leah don't lie. We're all friends here." Y/N blurted out.
"Fine. I did meet this girl....but that's all I'm saying!"
Emily and Kim let out pouts while Y/N laughed, maybe letting them have wine was a bad idea.
"You." Emily pointed at Bella.
"Me?" Bella questioned.
"Yes. How's your vamp?"
"Oh, um- he's nice, I guess."
"No. I need more than nice."
"He's really good at dancing." Bella shrugged.
"I need more." Emily begged.
Maybe Bella should of said yes to that wine.
***
It had been a good four hours and 4 out of 5 of the girls were more than tipsy. The 5th one just laughing her ass off at her friends.
The guys were in for a surprise when they came in. There was flour everywhere. In places where flour shouldn't be.
The girls were sitting in a circle in the kitchen, giggling, waiting on their cookies and brownies and muffins to be done. They got a little over board.
Then the door opened and the girls went silent. Sam walked through the door to be met with flour and baking ingredients all over the table and counters, along with 3 empty bottles of wine. He could hear whispers in the kitchen.
"Maybe if we stay really quiet they won't realize we're here." Emily whispered. The other girls giggling. "Shhhhh."
Sam peered over into the kitchen, watching the five girls huddle down, not noticing he was there. Hearing the guys he quieted them letting them look.
Emily peered up seeing the guys watch them causing her to squeak and the other girls to look up.
Each guy had an amused look on his face, watching the girls.
"Welp, grab one." Sam called.
Sam scooped Emily up into his arms, causing her to let out of squeal.
Jared did the same to Kim, and Jacob to Bella. Seth grabbed his sister, and Paul grabbed Y/N.
"Paul, wait, I have to tell you something" Y/N said. "I'm not drunk. I can't even drink."
He took the girl and sat her down outside. She stood in front of him, and he gave her a look to continue.
Hearing loud noises coming from the house, they both looked over only to see all four girls watching them with wide grins on their faces.
"What is happening?" Paul asked, with a confused smile.
In the background you could hear the girls screaming with excitement.
"Here goes nothing. Paul..."
"Yes."
"I'm pregnant."
Paul's face was pure shock, all the girls in the background screaming and cheering.
"We're gonna have a baby?"
"Yeah. We're gonna have a baby. It's why I've been getting bigger, as Jacob so kindly reminds me."
"I'll kill him if you want me to."
"I know you would."
"I have a question."
"Shoot."
"Why is the leech lover here?"
"I invited her. She's actually really nice. I get why Jacob likes her."
"I can't believe we're going to have a baby."
"Me neither."
"I love you so much."
"I love you too."
#twilight#twilight imagine#twilight imagines#the twilight saga#the twilight series#new moon#paul lahote#paul lahote fanfiction#paul lahote fic#paul lahote imagine#paul lahote imagines#paul lahote x reader#paul lahote x y/n#pregnant#werewolves#vampires#jacob black#bella swan#wolf pack imagines#wolf pack#angst#twilight angst#paul lahote angst
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heart, body, soul
cowboy like me chapter thirteen
surprise! happy friday eve. here's some cowboy to get you through it.
life has been a little tough on me lately. sorry for the terribly long wait. but the end is in sight, dear readers. tighten the stampede string on your hats. we're coming in to land.
pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: you and joel are at an impasse. you resolve it the only way you know how
warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, alcohol consumption, mention of dr*g use, titty appreciation, face sitting, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, major fluff, major angst
word count: 14.4k (y’all ask. mother macfrog delivers)
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡
You sigh. “I don’t want you…with…anyone else. I want you to…only want me.”
His brows straighten. You sit in silence, staring at one another. Both daring the other to be the first to talk. But it’s his turn, and he knows it. So he swallows, and says –
“I don’t want nobody else.”
And that’s a thing. A great big, terrible thing.
It’s been a week since you last saw Joel. Blurred, tilting, pulling to-and-fro across your vision. A week since you last heard him; his low voice like the hum of an electric wire, tired acoustics drumming weakly through his chest into your heavy hand, laced through his own. Fingers draped softly across his swollen knuckles. You wonder if they’re still marked seven days later.
A week since you felt him. Felt your body lean towards him – gravity or dizziness or something stronger – as his weight dipped into the bed beside you. The way it has only a handful of times now, but enough to score it deep into your memory. Enough that you know the difference between him and anyone else, even with your eyes closed and your heart bleeding.
Enough to ensure that, for as long as you live, you’ll know and see each difference between him and every other person you ever meet. They won’t lower their head the way he does, or lift the corners of their mouth like him. Your name won’t sound the same, won’t sound as complete, coming from someone else’s mouth. Your body won’t magnetize to anyone, the way it does to him.
And that’s fine. The separation. The fact that he was a fleeting moment. The fact that it was over before you felt it leave, before you heard the door close behind it. It’s fucking fine.
Still, you let it hurt a while. Just a little while.
The gash on your calf has healed up, your hangover had subsided by Saturday evening. But your chest still feels tight, your hands are still restless. You lie awake staring at the ceiling, surrounded by the clothes you have of his; breathing in the ghost of his scent and breathing out pathetic, aching sighs. He’s all you smell, all you touch.
Except – he’s not anymore, is he? He saw to that well enough.
So you let it hurt. And you think you can just about make do with that.
“Hey, hon,” you dad gently calls, hanging on your doorframe. Your room is dark, drapes closed, the only light source the white light from your laptop.
“Hi,” you reply, with a break in your voice. Your eyes don’t lift from the screen. Jim just told Pam he’s in love with her, but she’s engaged to Roy. But she really loves Jim, she just won’t admit it. It’s cathartic, okay?
Dad steps into the room and awkwardly stuffs his hands into his jean pockets. “Awfully, uh…awfully quiet lately, hm? Everything okay?”
“Fine. Everything’s fine.”
It’s not a lie. You are fine. You’re so fine, you’re actually numb to it.
The problem is that for the last few weeks, you’ve been more than fine. The best you’ve felt in months – maybe even years. The most you’ve smiled, the hardest you’ve laughed. The warmest the blood has ever run through your veins.
And then you’re just – fine again. Back to nothing.
He shuffles between feet. Stares at the floor, where his shadow sprouts from his toes. “I was gonna head into town, grab a few things. You wanna come? Sit in the car with a book, maybe?”
“I’m good, Dad. Thanks.”
“Sure? Whatcha watchin’?”
“The Office.”
He nods. “Right, right. I, uh, I was thinkin’ of askin’ Joel and Sarah over for dinner tonight. You always have fun when they’re around. You and Sarah could spend some time together, y’know?”
Your heart nosedives straight from your chest into your stomach. The thought of seeing him again, this time crystal clear and not while under the influence of alcohol, drugs, or worse, sinks its sharp claws into your shoulders and sinks you deep underwater. His voice gets lost somewhere in the space between you. And when you finally come back up for air, back into the room, you gulp back whatever string of senseless words your empty chest initially offered up.
“Hm…” You pretend to consider the thought, then head straight for passive. “Whatever. Sure.”
Your dad’s mouth opens to respond, and you cut in again.
“I’m kinda tired,” you say, yawning. Trying to make him leave.
He’s not great at taking hints. “Kiddo, I am really worried about you. Weren’t you s’posed to be working this mornin’?”
“You ain’t gotta worry about me. I’m just a little tired, is all. Wasn’t feeling up to restocking tools and dealing hardwood to your buddies.”
It’s only the second truth you’ve told him since he set foot in your room. You never feel much like work, not Sal’s-fucking-Hardware-kinda work, anyway. But the thought of standing for seven hours with a bared-teeth grin plastered on your face, hands blistering from tearing open box after box of stock, shoulder slowly coming up in a bruise from the number of customers tapping on it…you figured Sal could do without you for one fucking day.
“You wanna look some more at other jobs?” Dad asks, and finally you look up. The blurry, luminous silhouette of Jim and Pam is strung in the dim air before him.
You shake your head. “Not right now. I have some bookmarked I can show you later.”
He takes a deep breath, unsure of which angle to come at you from next. Finally, with an air of resignation and defeat, he settles for, “You know where I am if you need me,” and closes your door as he leaves.
You’re staring intensely at the face of every character onscreen. The pixels burn into your eyes. You’re trying harder than anything to get him out of your head. It’s not working.
His hand through yours, his arms around you – warm, safe, protective; the way he smelled, sweet like whiskey, sharp like pine; the way he’d mumble, lips against your head, sweet nothings pressed into your hair; the feeling of his lips on yours, hungry for something only you knew how to give him. The look in his eyes, tender, knowing, loving.
And because he was the only other person fluent in your little secret language – a look, a nod, a tug at the corners of his mouth. His eyes settling on yours only for a nanosecond, one tiny moment in time laced with a thousand words that you translated as quickly as his glance moved across you. It all meant something. It all meant so fucking much.
All of it. You feel all of it as it sinks through your skin, through bone and into your brain. As it curls around your ribcage, holds tight around your heart. Every thought and feeling that flutters through on full display for him to read. And you’d let him, because it’s him. You trusted him. You – you might’ve even –
I mean, what the fuck, right? When the fuck did this happen?
Joel Miller. Joel fucking Miller.
Is this what you thought would happen that very first time you looked at him differently? Tidying up after pizza, leaning into you, telling you you’re nothin’ but trouble? Did he know then, that this was where you were headed?
Did you?
Your phone buzzes. You glance down at it through your tears.
Sarah: wtf is going on ???
You craft a reply as nonchalant as you can manage. Three little letters.
You: Wym?
Sarah: are u good??
You: Yeah lol. Why wouldn’t I be good
Sarah: idfk. weird. my dad’s on the phone to yours rn
That’s great. That’s just fucking great. He’s probably telling Joel right this second how miserable you are. That’s all you need.
You want to hold onto your pride, keep an air of casualness about you impermeable to even Sarah – but you desperately want to know what’s being said. What she’s listening to him say.
You: Yeah? What are they talking about?
Sarah: well now it’s just some andrew guy
Sarah: sounds like a loser
Sarah: we’re coming over for dinner tonight btw
You: Nice. See ya then
Sarah: u wanna come over here before? we can watch love island
You: I’m good. Gonna go for a nap
Sarah: you can nap here. come over!!!
You bury the phone under your pillow without replying. Sarah is like Joel in many ways, but her persistent nature is one avenue in which they drastically differ. Joel would – and has – give you space, let you mope; Sarah will probably text you all afternoon until she’s on your doorstep, takeout in one hand and a telling in the other.
So you drag your phone back out and put it on Do Not Disturb mode. She’s already sent two more texts since her last.
Sarah: seriously. would you come the fuck over. im only on episode 5 i gotta catch up
Sarah: even my dad is worried about you
Yeah. Good one, Joel. Fuckin’ asshole.
----------
They arrive at six on the dot, armed with pizza and a crate of beer. The doorbell rings once, you lean over a degree to glance down the hallway, and Sarah’s stepping over the threshold, her shadow of a father at her heels.
He’s rugged. Hair amok. He kinda looks a mess, sorta looks how you want him to after almost two weeks of no you. But he’s here. He’s right in front of you. And this time, the shape of him isn’t swimming across your glassy eyes.
Your heart swells with relief to see him again, only until it twinges from the wound that he caused, and it hurts all over again. You turn back in your stool to face the kitchen island, making some noncommittal noise when Sarah’s hand presses between your shoulder blades in greeting.
“Tyrique and Ella are kinda cute, but I don’t trust him. Dude’s gonna fuck her over for sure,” she mutters, shoving the box over the counter towards your dad, who accepts the beer from Joel with a pat on his arm.
He’s standing across the kitchen – Joel – as far as he can get from you. You’re sure his eyes haven’t lifted from the floor yet. But you scan him all over, from the loose collar of his shirt down to the cuffs, rolled halfway up his forearms; from the rough hair of his beard down to the soft tufts decorating the skin just below his clavicle.
You scan him all over. The body you know just as well with the flannel and jeans over it as you do without them. The body you’ve squeezed, and scratched, and bit and kissed – and the same one you’ve thrown curses and insults at as it follows you through his house.
If he looked you dead in the eye right now, you’re not sure you could look away. You’re not sure you could stop.
That is, until Sarah presses a chilled beer to your arm, startling you, and silently nods towards the dining table.
She sits on your right, opposite your dad’s seat. She resumes chittering about Love Island. Joel and your dad are still in the kitchen, stacking plates, cracking the caps off their drinks. And then he pushes off the counter, and slowly wanders over.
You watch his every move. Study him, like you’re about to be tested on it. Which foot he steps forward with – always his left – and which chair he’ll pick once he’s at the table – the one opposite you, ‘cause it faces the TV for when he and your dad watch baseball while eating.
Two for two.
He lifts the chair, pulls it back, and angles it to face Sarah’s. He places his beer gently on the mat. When he sits, he doesn’t pull in any closer. Doesn’t risk your legs crossing paths under the table. You pull your knees up, let your shins rest against the wooden ledge. Your dad takes Joel up in conversation.
“So, this Andrew. He’s the brains of the operation?”
The pizza is slowly pulled apart over the course of an excruciating hour-long meal. Sarah puts the next episode of Love Island on while you eat, points out her favorite couples and nudges you to ask your opinion on the girls’ outfits.
“Wouldn’t have gone with those heels,” she mutters, chewing, pointing with her pizza crust to some six-inch ankle-breakers.
You lean past her shoulder every now and then to pretend you’re as engaged as she is. Pretend you’re listening. Your left ear is tuned into the conversation happening across the table.
Your dad thinks Andrew Curtis is fucking hilarious. Hoots with laughter when Joel tells him about his untucked button up. Says, Oh, jeepers, when he hears about the way the guy tripped jumping down from his truck.
The storyteller doesn’t sound so lively opposite. Your dad’s slapping his thigh with laughter. Joel’s shoulders are jerking at best. You dare a glance at him, and he’s already facing your direction. He turns away before your eye reaches his chest.
Soon, the episode ends. The atmosphere dies arm in arm with your dad’s attempt at another conversation. There’s a thick silence between the four of you. You haven’t opened your mouth the entire meal, but even if you did, the tension would clamp its heavy hand over your lips, blocking any words from making their way out of your windpipe.
Sarah clears her throat, manages a tentative, “I –” and then the phone rings, piercing through the awkward mist like a bolt of lightning.
Your dad pushes himself up and trots over, grabbing the handset a little too hastily. “Hello? Oh, hi, Rita. Hi. Yeah. Yep, Joel’s – Sarah? She’s here, yep.”
Sarah’s head drops, hand gripping her glass frozen in mid-air. “Fuck,” she whispers, and Joel shoots her a look across the table.
“She’s – oh, yeah? Well, let me ask ‘er.” Your dad covers the bottom of the handset with a huge palm. “Rita has some…cross –”
“Cross stitch, yeah, I know,” Sarah says, and thuds her glass down. “I said I’d help her out with it. I bet she’s seen your damn truck across the street!” She jabs a furious finger at her dad.
Joel shrugs. “Ain’t my fault the woman has eyes.”
Your body jerks as if to laugh. You don’t catch it in time. He notices.
“She’s on her way over, Rita,” your dad continues, nervously smiling at Sarah as she pulls her jacket over her shoulder. “She’s – oh, sure, I’ll let her know. Alright, now. Bye, Rita, bye. You’ve to bring your glasses. ‘pparently the pattern’s pretty small. You even wear glasses?”
She huffs in response. “I’m gonna be there all damn night. I’ll just get you at home.”
Joel opens his mouth to protest, goes to warn her that she ain’t walkin’ home alone in the damn dark, but your dad holds his hand out.
“We’ll give you a ride home. You come back here once you’re done.”
She nods gratefully and struts off down the hallway. The door slams shut behind her.
Your dad lightly chuckles, sauntering back over to his seat. “And then there were three…” he says, sitting back down.
But the loss of Sarah only cranes the spotlight over to you. Only you. No one else to split it with. No one else to lend it to. You can feel your dad’s eyes on you, waiting for you to make a move, some song and dance for your company.
He lifts his beer to his lips. Nods to you. Makes a song and dance of his fucking own, when he says, “Guess who’s been lookin’ at grad jobs?”
Joel stares at him for a second, like he’s waiting for your dad to reveal who it is he means. Like it can’t possibly be the only she in the room. His thumbs tap around his own bottle. “Oh – yeah?” he stammers, and throws a haphazard glance in your direction. He seems to mean to address you.
You sit forward, choke out a, “Yeah, uh – it’s – well. Kinda.”
“Film?” he asks, and you hear the rest of the question in the tone of his voice. Somethin’ you like, ‘n not just your dad’s suggestion?
You nod, but he’s not looking. He’s studying the label of his beer.
“Film,” your dad confirms. “Shut me the hell up, didn’t she? Came downstairs with her laptop the other night. Where is it, kiddo – New York?”
Your breath catches. The answer cowers at the back of your mouth, terrified to show itself. You force it forward.
“LA.”
Joel’s eyebrows lift.
“I said she might be better goin’ back to school. Reapply for next year, right?” Dad looks to you, and your lips pull in an awkward smile. “…but she didn’t wanna wait around. Told you the other day – this place is like prison.”
He chuckles, but Joel isn’t laughing. He’s staring at his beer, his brows slowly lowering from arched and curious to dark and furrowed. And you want to reach for his hand, want to shoo your dad off and spill your guts to his best friend. Want to explain yourself, show him the webpages and application forms you’ve spent the last few days surfing through – want to justify yourself to him.
But so long as your father is sat here, bumbling to himself about the prices of college courses these days – none of that happens. You simply sit in a stalemate opposite one another – a million thoughts racing through your head, a million and one racing through Joel’s.
“…might change her mind, but who knows? She’s skittish, this one, she –”
Another bleating ringtone cuts what you’re sure would’ve been an endearing compliment short. You say a silent prayer of gratitude for whoever’s at the other end of the line. Your dad sighs and heaves himself up again, swiping the phone from the kitchen counter.
“Hello? Hi, hi, Richard. No, I’m not – well, it’s – sure, sure. What’s –?”
His head falls in much the same way Sarah’s did ten minutes ago. He sighs.
“Right. No, that’s quite alright. I can be there in ten. Yep. Alright. See you in a – hello?”
He drops the phone back into its cradle and runs a hand down the back of his neck, growling.
“Kelman?” Joel asks, jaw turning to his shoulder.
“You bet. Misplaced the damn keys for his site. You two alright if I head on over there ‘n lock up for ‘im?”
“He familiar with Andrew Curtis at all?” Joel quips, and then waves your dad off. “Go on. I’ll be outta your hair by the time you get back.”
In a frenzied blur, your dad’s tying his laces, grabbing his keys, tossing a jacket over his shoulders. He apologizes a total of four times to Joel, thanks him for dinner, promises he’ll pay him back next time he sees him. And then he’s jogging off to the front door, and taking every ounce of comfortability with him.
And then there were two.
You slouch back in your chair, listening through the silence as your dad’s car engine fades down the street. When the quiet humming disappears, Joel’s head turns back to face you.
You’re alone again. For the first time in a week. This is the closest you’ve felt him, even separated by the dining table and a fog of conversation that you have no idea how to begin clearing. There’s more weight to the silence between you than words could ever bear, you know that much. More to be communicated between your eyes than your tongues know the language of. But still, you can see him through it.
Like a lighthouse, shining bright and beckoning you to the shoreline. You can feel him again, as if there’s an electric pulse radiating off of him. And you feel drawn in, like you always do; feel that magnetic pull in your chest, only ever satiated by the meeting of Joel’s.
You shift in your seat. His eyes flit up. Your heart jumps, like it’s a sign he’s really still in there. And then they drop back to his lap, and your chest sews itself back together.
Your eyes start to burn with fast-forming tears. Your throat tightens, tightens, tightens, pushing them higher and higher until they pool across your waterline. Blinking doesn’t help, just drops them onto your cheeks, to be quickly swept away by the sleeve of your hoodie.
All you want is for him to look you in the eye, whisper, C’mere, baby, scoop you up and hold you in his arms forever. Fuck everything you said about the distance being good. That was when he was in his house, and you were in yours. He’s here, right now. He’s sat across from you. You’re finally on your own again. And he’s not fucking looking at you.
You let your legs down and sit up straight in your chair. It’s small, but it feels like a necessary step to silently tell him that you’re in the room with him. You’re here.
It lifts his eyes again. Not to you, but to your empty plate. Then, to the wet stain on your sleeve. You hope it stabs his heart a little.
From the shaky breath he sucks in, it seems to hurt just enough. He clears his throat. Pulls his gaze higher, higher, a little higher, until you’re eye to eye.
A wave of feeling, either burning hot or freezing cold – you can’t tell the difference – stretches across your body. It’s unnerving, and yet calming. It’s soothing on your wound, and irritating all the same. He’s looking at you. You wonder if he can see you.
You stare at one another for a few moments, drinking it all in. You can see him clear as day. You can almost see the shadows of his thoughts as they dance across the frosted-glass windows of his hazel eyes.
He blinks. Breathes in deep through his nose. And then speaks.
“LA, huh?”
You scoff. You don’t fucking mean to, but it’s the opposite of what you expected – and kind of wanted – him to say. Your whole body relaxes, though – finally relieved of the tension of the last seven days, even if only for a moment.
You feel lighter, like someone kicked the door down and this is the first gulp of clean air in your lungs. It’s small, insignificant even, but it does what it needs to.
Which is – it gives you the energy to answer back.
“It’s not a concrete plan. Yet.”
“Yet,” he repeats.
“I’m not running from you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Get your head out of your ass.”
He wants to laugh. He should’ve expected it.
“I didn’t say anythin’. I think…I think it sounds like a good plan. ‘n you’d be close by to Sarah, so.”
This conversation feels like you’ve been left alone for ten minutes with your dad’s buddy. Sanitized. Surgical. Which would’ve been what it was little over a month ago, but it’s not now. Now, it’s totally different. There’s more than just that one neat string between you.
You’ve held his hand. You’ve kissed him. You’ve touched him, in ways you’ve only ever touched a handful of people. And even then – none of those times have been anything like the way you’ve touched Joel. You’ve tasted him, you’ve felt him as he climaxes somewhere deep inside you. You’ve pulled him into your body, over and over; you’ve let him have you in ways nobody else has.
There exists a complicated, messy web of history and emotion, woven tight between you. The weight of it bears down on the surface of the dining table.
And he’s talking to you about fucking grad jobs.
“Could you just – stop fucking with me?” you ask, sincerely. You’re not angry, you’re not hurt. Not anymore.
Joel lifts his chin. Studies your face. “I’m not fucking with you.”
“Yes, you are. You’re talking to me about some job, like there’s nothing else to talk about. Like there ain’t nothin’ else we might have to discuss.”
His response is resigned. Bored, even. “What else do you wanna discuss?”
You narrow your eyes. “Oh, um, I don’t fucking know. Last week?”
Joel takes a swig of beer. You take it as reply enough.
“I don’t have any clue where you’re at, Joel. You pick me up from Frank’s, beat a dude up for me, put me to bed, ‘n then when I wake up, you’re gone. Oh, but you left your fuckin’ shirt. By accident? Or for me? Who the fuck am I to know?”
He holds back a smile. “I had work.”
“Right,” you nod, “Andrew Curtis.”
“That guy’s an idiot. You’d probably like ‘im.”
“I bet. I’m fond of idiots, apparently.”
This time, he can’t hold it back. A smirk spreads across his lips, soft and shy, but there. Right there. You could reach out and fucking touch it.
And then he nods. Leans back in his chair, folds his arms, and nods. The smile begins to fade.
With it, goes the breathing space between you. The fog starts to thicken again. The web tightens some more. Your chest begins to ache. Things feel normal for all of two minutes, and then they’re back to awkward air so heavy that you can feel it on your shoulders, feel it forcing you into a slump in your chair.
This whole thing is built on lies. Lies on top of lies on top of lies. The only truth there has ever been has been between the two of you. Two lonely figures, wrapped in each other’s arms in the eye of a storm. So –
Fuck it.
You sniff. “I thought – that the most we were risking was my dad. I thought the worst that could happen was him findin’ out.”
Your voice is quiet. Unsure of itself. One word carrying you to the next, not totally sure where you’re going with it.
“I didn’t know I was risking losing you, too, and now…now, you’re just gone. Like, you don’t wanna talk to me, you barely wanna look at me. I don’t…I don’t have you anymore, and it’s all fucked up. Do you know, I – I wouldn’ta done any of it if I thought you’d go?”
Joel flinches. Tightens the hold on his arms.
“I want you to come back,” you say, stronger this time. Louder. Clearer. You’re ignoring the tears sweeping across your vision. “Just come back. You don’t even – you don’t even have to touch me or nothin’. We can just hang out and talk, we don’t have to…we don’t have to do anything.”
Your voice wobbles by the end. Your lips tighten around it, shutting it off before you can say anything more to embarrass yourself.
Joel’s still quiet. He watches wordlessly as you stand, pile the plates atop one another and make for the kitchen. As you place them gently into the sink, you feel the weight of him behind you, reaching over to set the bottles alongside them.
“I ain’t gone anywhere,” he murmurs, and you twist to face him.
“Joel. This is the most we’ve touched in two weeks. Putting dishes in the sink.”
He repeats himself. Adds, “I’m still here. I still care about you.”
You shrug. “Then – show me.”
He steps back. “Show you,” he scoffs. Your expression doesn’t shift. “Show you? Like I didn’t just almost break my damn knuckles defendin’ you? Take you home in the dead a’ night, deal with all your drunk bickerin’?”
Your head tilts. He’s right. But you want more than that. More than spitting threats and leaving flannels behind. You want his hands, and his lips, and his voice. You want –
“…Lord, mighty me.”
Your dad’s voice follows the sudden jolt of the front door opening. You and Joel are already five feet apart by the time his body appears around the corner, one hand leaning on the wall, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.
“How on Earth that man has his own construction company, I have no idea. Called me halfway to the site ‘n said he found the keys in his damn pocket.”
“Always the scatterbrains,” Joel says, leaning casually against the counter.
“Sure is. You ‘n me oughta start our own, show ‘em all how it’s done. Anyways. What’d I miss?”
Before you can answer, Joel’s speaking again. He sounds in a hurry. “Just tidyin’ up. We were talkin’ about graduate programs, actually. You know what,” he turns to you, “I’m sure Sarah has some old brochures from UCLA. Might have some stuff worth checkin’ out. You wanna come get ‘em?”
It takes a second for you to realize he’s talking to you. His eyebrows are arched, his thumb pointing over his shoulder. He came up with the lie so damn quick, you have whiplash.
“I – yeah, sure. Yeah.”
Your dad runs his tongue between his teeth. “UCLA. Huh. Well, don’t keep Joel too late.”
“I w…I won’t,” you reply, following at the heels of the swaggering figure towards the door. You dodge his eye contact and dip your head behind Joel’s shoulder, thankful for his protective stance in front of you.
Your dad doesn’t say anything more – instead, he stands back and lets Joel lead you out. You steal a glance back at him as you slip through the door. His face unreadable, his eyes stick on Joel; locked tight on the flannel wandering down the driveway ahead of you. The word loops in your head as though the phone’s ringing again. Guilty guilty guilty guilty guilt–
But then the night breeze is dancing across your cheeks, and you’re following at the heels of Joel again, and you feel light as air in the wake of him. You climb into the passenger side of the truck and watch as he settles alongside you with a sigh. He pulls out of the drive, and his right hand sits idly on his thigh. You think to take it. Joel reads your mind.
He sits it on the armrest between you, palm facing up. You stare straight ahead and let your fingers slip through his. He knots your bodies together, thumb rubbing gently on your knuckle.
Another pound of weight lifts from your shoulders.
----------
Joel drives for twenty minutes before pulling up in an empty parking lot across from a church. It’s pitch-black and deserted. There’s a single streetlight over by the corner, illuminating a trashcan and not much else. You’re shrouded in darkness, save for the soft glow from the lights on the dash.
He switches the engine off and sits back in his seat. Your hands are separated. The distance between you slowly starts to grow again.
“LA,” he says, for the second time tonight, staring at the ceiling of the cabin.
“LA,” you echo, staring at him.
He looks down to you. Smiles. There’s something behind it. You can’t tell what.
“It’s not a grad job,” you say, forcing something up. Your fingers are twisting around the drawstring of your hoodie. “I was lookin’ at grad stuff, but there wasn’t anything I was into. The LA thing is a six-month temp job I saw.”
Joel nods. “What’s that look like?”
“Production assistant. Lots of behind-the-scenes stuff.”
“Mhm. Sounds like your thing.”
Your brows jump as you pull the tie around your finger. The tip turns white. “Might be. Job ad closes on Monday.”
He sucks in a breath. “Better get applyin’, then.”
Your head cocks. “So eager for me to go?”
“Eager for you to do somethin’ you love,” he corrects.
“But it would get me outta your hair.”
“I don’t want you outta my hair.”
A smirk sneaks its way across your lips. You nod to the view from the windshield. “Why are we way the hell out here?”
“Because your dad bombed our conversation, ‘n I figured we weren’t done.”
“Then talk.”
He licks his lips. Folds his arms, settles deeper into his seat. He turns a little more to face you. The single light from outside catches in his iris, like that same lighthouse beacon you could see earlier. Distant, far off, but there. Still there.
“I owe you an apology,” he says. “I…I thought what we were doin’…What I was doin’…I thought I was causing you more hurt ‘n harm than good. I was scared it’d gone too far. Scared it wasn’t okay anymore.”
“Was it ever okay?”
He shifts again, uncomfortably. In the dim light, you see his face pull. He squints, wobbles his head in consideration. “No. It wasn’t. But we did it anyways, you ‘n me. We made that decision together.”
“Right. And then you went and made the complete opposite decision, alone.”
He’s nodding. He knows. And you think you know, too. It fucking sucked, losing him – but you get it. What was the big plan? How far were you going to let it go? Someone had to pull the plug at some point. Someone had to cut the thing loose.
You lean closer to him. “I just…I wish you’d let me fight back a little. Wish you’d heard me out more. I know what we’ve done isn’t right. I know that. But I – I fucking –”
You sigh. It leaves your mouth shaky and unsure of itself.
There’s something more. Something at the back of your tongue, itching to separate into the dense space between you. Bigger. Stronger. Heavier.
“I missed you,” you concede, shaking your head. “That’s all.”
Joel’s eyes fall shut with a wince when you say it, like it physically hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. But he’s clearer, now – the fog is slowly shrinking away. The words behind his eyes seem to light them in a warm glow. Missed you too, baby.
His hand opens up on the armrest again. Yours falls into it instantly.
He clears his throat then, and says, “Also owe you an apology for – for the Lois thing. I know I should’ve explained a lot sooner, ‘n I’m sorry I had you thinkin’ what you were thinkin’. I didn’t – I didn’t know it was such a big deal to you. Thought you’d know I wouldn’t…do that.”
“I think I did,” you tell him. Your nails run up and down his fingers. “Deep down. Wasn’t so much about her as it was about me.”
“About you?”
You shrug. “Yeah. Me, us, this. It was more of a, Why wouldn’t he want someone like her?, y’know? No lying, no secrets. And she’s old, like you.”
“Easy.”
You smile. “She’s nice. I know she is. My dad went on for five whole minutes about how good you’d be together when I asked ‘im. So – why wouldn’t you wanna be with her, right?”
It’s rhetorical. Joel knows. But he answers it anyways.
“She is nice,” he agrees, “but I ain’t interested. To tell you the truth, darlin’, I was a little preoccupied worrying my ass off about you to even look twice at the woman.”
You freeze for a second. Stare at the outline of his jaw, the jagged bristles of his beard; the soft sweep of hair silhouetted by the moonlight outside. He’s still Joel – even in the darkness, even in the fog. Even when you can’t see, hear, or touch him – he’s still there. Thinking about you. Worrying about you.
“Well,” you sniff, “you don’t gotta worry anymore. I just…I didn’t like the thought of it.”
His head tilts. Beckons you to continue.
You sigh. “I don’t want you…with…anyone else. I want you to…only want me.”
His brows straighten. You sit in silence, staring at one another. Both daring the other to be the first to talk. But it’s his turn, and he knows it. So he swallows, and says –
“I don’t want nobody else.”
And that’s a thing. A great big, terrible thing.
“But,” he continues, almost immediately, “this has gotta be – I’ve gotta do right by you. Gotta be honest, now –”
“Wait,” you interrupt, “can you just – stop acting like it’s all you?”
Joel falls quiet. His brows knit together.
“Stop saying things that make it sound like you’re the only one in this. I’m in it, too. I want it. I want you.”
“Baby, it’s not as simple as –”
“Joel,” you take his arms and pull yourself closer to him, legs propped against the center console, “I want you. This. I want us. All of it, I want all –”
Your body is being tugged closer to him, lifted nearer, and his chin bumps against yours, and his eyelashes almost brush against yours when your foreheads link, and his breath sweeps hot and needy across yours, and he – he kisses you.
You stop breathing. You don’t care whether or not it ever comes back. Oxygen replaced by him. Everything replaced by him.
His tongue slips past your lips, his hand glides across your hair to cup the back of your head. He locks you into his body, lets you rest your arms across his shoulders. Your lips find a rhythm against one another; warm, wet, tender.
His free hand cups your cheek, holds your mouth to his just a second longer, before he pulls away, and gives you one last kiss. Softest of them all. Seals the fucking deal.
“We okay?” he mumbles, and you lift your head from his palm. You sit frozen for a second, just looking at him. Looking and looking and looking.
“We’re good.”
He smiles then. A genuine smile. “I thought,” he whispers, glancing around the quiet parking lot, “I could take you on a date.”
So that’s why he brought you out here.
“A date?”
“Mhm. Never been on one, have we?”
“Never could.”
He nods in agreement. “Just ice cream. For now. Thought I’d show you some of my moves.”
“You got moves?” you snicker.
“I’m a catch, darlin’. The ladies swoon for me.”
“Alright, never say that to me again.”
Joel laughs. “There’s a place right around the corner. ‘s go.”
He climbs out of the truck and wanders off towards the sidewalk, and you follow. He looks down at you as you walk. His cheeks swell with the smile on his face, dimples at the edges of his lips.
It’s quiet; quieter than you’d expect, not that you’re complaining. With the sun almost set, you’re doused in light only when you wander under a streetlight. So, it’s no surprise when Joel’s eyes quickly scan the street up ahead, and his hand reaches down for yours.
Your stomach flips. You’re doing everything you can not to let him feel your pulse in your wrist, but you’re pretty sure you can, because he leans his shoulder against yours and asks if you’re okay.
“Good,” you choke out, relieved to have just passed a streetlight that might give away the blush on your cheeks.
Approaching on the right is a sickly-sweet, pastel-painted store front; fairy lights decorating the window, wireframe tables and chairs dotted outside. A bell dings when Joel pushes the door open, holding it open for you to step inside.
It’s…dainty. Sweet. Everything is either teal or pink or white. There’s a giant ice cream cone stood in the corner. There’s a gumball machine opposite it. The lighting is a little garish – kind of reminds you of sitting in the dentist chair, eyes squinting up at the bright white light overhead.
You’re fucking surprised to be stood in here with Joel Miller, of all people. He sticks out like a sore thumb; his worn jeans and crumpled flannel against the minty gleam of the parlor like an earthy tree sprouting in the middle of that same dentist’s office. It makes you giggle, as he leads you over to the counter.
A boy with a teal uniform meets him over a glass case full of different ice cream flavors. His name badge reads Ben. “What can I get you?” he asks, scoop in hand. Your lips press against one another to stop your laugh from escaping.
Joel turns to look at you. He nudges you with his elbow when you don’t return his glance, too focused on Ben’s pink baseball cap, the logo of the shop printed on top.
“Uh,” you consider, glancing down, “I’m good with any.”
Joel sighs, lips thinning. “Am I gonna pick a flavor, ‘n then you decide you don’t like it?”
“Nope. Promise.” You smile innocently, and he turns back to the server.
“I’ll take one scoop of the cookie dough, and, uh…one of the coffee, please.”
When Ben dips to scoop the order into two little tubs, you mock gasp at Joel.
“What?”
“Coffee?”
He shrugs.
“I took you for a vanilla man.”
Ben stands straight and punches some numbers into the cash register. Joel hands him a ten.
“What about me makes you think I’m into vanilla?” he asks in a low voice.
You bat your eyelashes at him. A dark thought crosses your mind, but you think better of voicing it and save Ben the embarrassment of potentially hearing you.
Joel thanks him and takes both tubs in one hand. You make for a booth by the window, but his hand quickly slinks around your waist, diverting you back to the door.
“Nuh-uh.”
“What?” you ask, spinning around.
Joel continues walking, backing you out of the shop. “I am not sittin’ in here. Got a fuckin’ headache already from five minutes in the place.”
“But it’s so cute,” you protest, giggling. “You don’t want your picture taken with the giant cone?”
“Get the hell out,” he mumbles, shoving you across the tiled floor back out to the sidewalk. He can’t mask his own grin, spilling out behind you, taking your hand in his.
You snort as he drags you back along the street. “Maybe I should forget about LA and get a job in there. Drive myself insane.”
“Maybe you should,” Joel agrees. “Least then you’d have an excuse for it.”
You slap his chest. “Where are we goin’?”
“’s just go back to the truck. Quieter. Less fluorescent lights.”
He unlocks it a few paces away, but you stroll past your door.
“What are you doin’?” Joel asks when you pull yourself up into the bed.
“C’mon,” you call back, settling against the back window, “it’s a nice night. Who are we hiding from?”
He tosses it over in his head and cocks one eyebrow. Fair enough. He climbs up and passes you the ice cream, shrugging his shirt from his shoulders. He throws it over your bare legs and sits down beside you, grunting as he does.
You smirk when he rests back.
“I’m almost fifty, darlin’,” he warns, reaching for his tub.
Your lips curve and you nod, digging the little plastic spoon into your dessert. You stretch your legs out and cross your ankles, watching in quiet contentment as the cars roll by, squealing to a halt at the traffic lights. Lights are coming on in windows, curtains are being drawn. Joel’s legs lie against yours, joined at the hip, shoulders brushing off one another.
This is the most peace you’ve had in a fortnight. Sat in the back of his truck, no eyes on you, watching the comings and goings of some back street in the city. You talk about nothing, for the first time in what’s felt like forever. You talk about films, and music, and all the stuff that seemed so unimportant before. Now, it all feels imperative. Feels like a life-or-death thing. What’s your favorite movie? You know my favorite movie, baby. But tell me again. Just so I know for sure. Just so that – if anything happens.
You listen when he answers. You watch his mouth as he says the words. For all the times you took it for granted before. For all the times you thought it was insignificant. It’s all significant, now. It all means something. It’s just more strings to the web between you, each one knotting you closer and closer together.
And you talk about what you’ve missed. The two weeks you’ve spent apart. You catch him up as if he was only gone on vacation. As if he was always meant to come back in the end.
“The guy with the weed – same guy you punched – he was –” gulp, “– what was his name again? Knicks? No –”
Joel snorts, spoon scraping around the edge the tiny pot in his huge hand. “Knicks?”
You close your eyes, waving your hand like it’ll urge him to remember the name of a guy he took no time getting to know before he floored him. “No, it wasn’t Kn…Knox! It was Knox, and he –”
“Kind of a fuckin’ name is Knox? Knox?”
“Are you gonna let me talk, or what?” you quip, and Joel brings his wrist up to his mouth to mask his laugh.
“Sorry, sorry, sweetheart. Go ahead. Knox had the weed.”
“Knox had the weed, and…he…Fuck, I can’t even remember where I was goin’ with that.” You shake your head and lean it back against the windowpane.
He laughs. For real. A Joel laugh. His shoulders jerk with the force of it. “You were gonna tell me about his friends, I think. Somethin’ about his friends.”
It sparks back up in your brain – the memory. “Right! Right. His friends – that dude with the glasses? That was Zack.”
Joel stares at you blankly, tongue in his cheek. “Zack?”
“Big guy, red face. Buck teeth. From Costco?”
His jaw slackens. He remembers. “I fuckin’ – I knew I’d seen that kid’s face before. That was him?”
You nod. Uhuh.
“Damn.” He chuckles. “He looked at me like I was a wild bear.”
You toss your head, roll your eyes. “Well.”
He laughs again. Knocks your legs with his own.
“Good call, by the way,” your lips mumble around the shape of your spoon, “cookie dough. it’s nice.”
“Wanna try mine?”
“Really?” Your face contorts, eyes screwing. “Coffee?”
“’s good. Here.”
He holds out a spoonful.
“Yeah, nice to you, who drinks, like, thirty of ‘em a day.”
Joel responds by pushing the spoon to your lips and you oblige, opening up and letting him feed you the ice cream.
It’s not bad. It’s ice cream, it can’t be bad. But it definitely isn’t good, and the way your lips purse and your neck jerks lets Joel know exactly how you feel about it. He scoffs, wiping a little from your lips with his thumb and sucking it clean.
“You don’t like it?”
“Why is it…bitter? Eugh.”
He laughs to himself as he loads up another spoonful. “It’s an acquired taste.”
“Well, I am not interested in acquirin’ it. You want some of the cookie dough?”
He shakes his head. “You enjoy.”
You both turn back to the street ahead. Joel’s arm is warm at the side of yours, his shoulder right there for you to lean your head on.
He places a kiss to your head when you do.
“What do you think he’d do if he found out?”
You’re not sure where it comes from. Neither is Joel, apparently, from the way he clears his throat and squirms ever so slightly. He knows exactly who you mean.
“I, uh…I don’t like to imagine.”
“It scare you?”
He takes a deep breath. “Naw. I just got better things to do with my imagination, is all.” He prods your arm with his. Picturin’ you.
“Ha. You reckon he’d kill you?”
“Probably.”
“He couldn’t kill you. Wild bear.”
“Well, I reckon he might try.”
“I think he’d call the cops.”
Joel’s head lifts from yours and falls back against the truck with a laugh.
“Help, Officer,” you mimic your dad’s twang,“my grown adult daughter is sleeping with someone!”
Joel’s shoulders slowly stop moving.
“Is that all we’re doin’?” he asks.
“Huh?” You lift your head and look at him. His dark eyes reflect the city lights in the distance.
“Is that all we’re doin’? Sleepin’ together?” His voice is gentle, honest. Genuinely asking, seeking out what you think.
You consider it, tryna sound casual. You know what he’s getting at.
“That’s all we’ve been doin’. Help, Officer, my daughter’s grabbing ice cream with someone? Better?”
He hums. Looks down at the empty tub in his hands. Looks back up to your lips. Draws nearer to you, holds your chin with one finger, looks you dead in the eye, and whispers,
“How about, Help, Officer, my daughter made someone fall in love with her?”
Your breath catches. Your hands fall limp into your lap. You blink away tears.
“You – No, that’s – You gotta say it. You gotta actually tell me, ‘cause I’m not – I don’t wanna misinterpret – We haven’t –”
You’re buffering. Your brain malfunctioning. Your tongue can’t decide which of the words at the back of your throat, all desperate to escape, to let through first.
Joel’s just smiling, watching you stutter and stammer your way through a sentence that leads you nowhere, desperately trying to compute what he’s just said because he’s finally fucking admitted it. He’s finally letting you know, giving you access to a part of him he’s been keeping from you for who knows how long.
Even though all this time it’s been the one thought running through your head that hasn’t passed your lips, it reverberates around your ears like it’s the last thing you ever expected him to say.
Joel’s hand moves to your neck, just below your ear. “Baby,” his thumb rubs your skin, “you know I love you.”
A gasp flees from your lips. Your ice cream is thrown to the truck bed, probably spilling over, and you don’t care. You leap into his lap, arms around his neck, and kiss him all over.
Joel’s laughing, returning what kisses he can, squeezing you with his big hands.
“I love you,” he says again when you come up for air, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard in your life. You sit your forehead against his, whispering breathlessly,
“Fuck, I love you, too.”
You two stare at each other, eyes scanning every part of the other’s face, mapping every mark, line, scar, like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen each other.
Guess it is, right?
This is the first time you’re looking at the man you love and you’re not afraid of it. The first time your chest swells and you don’t gulp it back, the first time you let him feel your heart pounding against the wall of your chest.
It’s the first time you look into his eyes, dark eyelashes and fine lines decorating deep warm brown, and think those three words…and know you can say them. Know neither of you will be spooked, neither of you will try to push them back down where they came from.
I love you. That’s all there is between you now. Your cards are flat on the table, Joel’s, too. Game over. You know everything there is to know about each other. You know each other.
You’ve sunk down his body, turned so your back curves into his chest, his chin resting on your head. Safely encased in his body, sat between his thighs. His hand runs up and down your thigh, lighting drawing lines and circles and writing words you don’t care to guess, ‘cause you probably already know ‘em.
Love hums between the two of you, keeping you warm; your bodies pressed together, hearts beating just inches apart. You blink your eyes open and the single streetlight sails back into your vision – bright as the moon, stirring you from your tranquil bliss.
“Do you,” you turn, and Joel fixes your hair, presses his lips to your forehead, “do you tell all the girls that on the first date? Was that just one of your moves?”
He snorts, and answers by pulling you in to give you a tender kiss.
No. Just you.
“You ready to go?” he asks when your lips part.
“Mhm. Take me home, cowboy.”
----------
His house is dark against the dusky sky. The headlights illuminate the garage door as he pulls up in the drive, squeezing your hand once as the truck comes to a halt.
“And then…” Joel says, holding a finger up to you. Wait right here.
He gets out of the driver’s side and you watch the shadow of him jog around the truck, stopping at your door. He opens it, and holds a hand out for you to take.
You choke on a laugh. “That is…”
“That is what?”
“…so cheesy. You really do that?”
“Uhuh. C’mon.”
Your fingers lace through his and you hop out of the truck. Joel shuts the door behind you and extends his elbow, and you link your arm through his. His hand warmly rests on top of yours.
You both wander over to his porch where he stops, letting you walk up the steps alone. When you reach the top one, only just taller than him on the path, hands still interlinked, you look down.
“Then I say, Thank you for a lovely evenin’, and,” he lifts your hand, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “then…” Joel holds his arms out. Voila. Just like that.
“Wow. I feel…honored.”
“You should.”
“Not even a proper kiss?”
“I just kissed your hand, baby. You didn’t like that?”
“You don’t ask to come inside?”
He scoffs. “Nope. What would I want to come inside for?”
You grin. Shrug your shoulders. Start walking backward to his door.
“Well, I am exhausted after our date, Mr. Miller. I do think,” yawn, “I should be gettin’ ready for bed.”
Joel lowers his head, eyes trained on you, smirk growing on his lips. “Is that so?”
You nod.
He starts to climb the steps.
“I’m sure I’ll be expectin’ a call from you,” you mewl, exaggerated Southern accent crooning to him. Your back bumps against the front door. Joel’s on the porch now. You bite your lip.
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” he returns, his shadow creeping over you. He reaches your body and his arms come to rest on the frame right above your head.
You hook your hands around his shoulders.
“You really don’t wanna come in?” you whisper, and his jaw ticks.
“I wouldn’t want to be ungentlemanly.”
Leaning in, lips against his ear, you whisper soft enough to shake the breath as it falls from his lips.
“And what if I asked you, nicely, to take me inside and fuck me good ‘n hard until I can’t walk?”
Joel’s eyes pool black when you lean away, head resting back on his door. Your gaze is heavy with lust, eyelashes batting slowly.
“Hm,” he grumbles, body beginning to press against yours. His head cocks. “You don’t wanna be treated like a lady?”
“Nope.” You smirk, hand falling down to cup the bulge quickly forming below his belt.
“Want to be treated like a fuckin’ whore, do ya?”
Chest heaving, you nod, massaging him.
“So dirty, darlin’, feelin’ your date up on the porch,” he tells you, dipping his jaw to run his lips along your neck. “What ‘m I gonna do with you?”
You shrug again, and your fingers find the door handle at your hip. You push, and the wood behind you falls inward.
As you plunge into the dark house, Joel’s rough hands clamp down on your waist, taking you in his tight grip and throwing you against the wall. His lips find your neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin, tongue caressing tenderly as he sucks a bruise into you. Heat spreads across your core. You clench your thighs around the feeling.
“Joel,” you whine, hands surfing through his hair. “Fuck, take me upstairs.”
He hums. He’s going to. He’s just not doing it quick enough.
You lift your leg to his hip, and his left hand scoops under your ass. He pulls your center flat against the swelling in his jeans, ruts slowly against your body. You hear a deep groan from his throat.
“Upstairs,” you say again, growing impatient, and he growls, taking you with both hands and lifting you two steps at a time towards his bedroom.
He kicks the door open, loosening his grip on you as he walks over to the bed. Light streams across the room in splinters, peering through the shades from the streetlights outside. Your legs drop and you dance along on your toes, turning him midway until his calves hit the bottom of his mattress.
Your lips part for mere seconds, allowing one reflected expression between you, before you’re pushing him by the chest onto the bed. His body springs when he hits the sheets, staring back up at yours between his legs. His breath courses from his mouth, thick with want and need.
You lay him flat on the mattress, knees either side of his waist, hands curved over his shoulders. His own find your waist, holding on tight as you straddle him, playing with the tie of your shorts when you settle.
You dip your head and brush your lips against his. One long, sweet kiss, and his hands are at the hem of your hoodie, pulling it free, lifting it over your head. You groan as it separates your bodies, let your tongue find his again as quickly as it was pulled apart from it.
“Let me see,” he whispers against your lips, hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shorts to rub circles into your hipbones.
You smile as you straighten, fingers dancing along the hem of your tee.
“Let me – see,” Joel grunts, when your core grinds into his.
You peel the tight fabric from your stomach, higher, higher, until it lifts your breasts, catching on the curve of them, and as you whip it over your head, they bounce back down. Joel groans from below, staring at the perfect peaked shape. He lifts one hand to cup your tit, runs his thumb over the quickly-hardening nipple.
“So fuckin’ pretty, baby.”
“I know,” you tell him, watching as his thumbpad circles the delicate skin. Your back arches into his touch.
And then his hands sink into the mattress either side of his body, pushing himself closer to you. He wraps a strong arm around your back and pulls your chest to his mouth, lips pressing wet kisses to the valley between your breasts. His teeth graze across the round shape up towards your nipple again.
His tongue slips over the hard bud, swirling and soaking all over it. Your head falls back, fingers grip onto his hair. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes. Joel sucks harder.
“S– fuck,” you whisper, nearly voiceless. His tongue is flicking now, lips pulling more of your body into his mouth. “Fuckfuckfuck, I need you, I need you,” you whimper.
He releases your sweet skin, lips shining with saliva. “Tell me where.”
You writhe on top of him, hands pushing your shorts down over your hips. “You know where.”
Joel holds your body steady. “Tell me.”
You whine, trying to rock against him. He doesn’t let up. “Joel, fuck. Betw– between my – fuck.”
“Between your legs?” he taunts, pushing you harder against the hard folds of denim below his belt. “That where you need me? Between those pretty legs, babygirl?”
Your fists ball around the fabric of his shirt, clinging on to him. “Ye-ah,” you whimper, and his weight falls from your grasp.
You feel your shorts tug over the crests of bone by your hips. “Step out of ‘em, baby,” he instructs, and your knee lifts.
He pulls the cotton down one leg at a time, telling you to shift your weight as he curls a finger around the lace of your panties and tugs them down after. Before you can think about it, you’re naked, soaked cunt making a mess over the crotch of his jeans.
He looks up at you expectantly.
“What–?”
He flicks his fingers in a beckoning motion, a Come here, either side of your thighs. You hesitate.
“Darlin’. Up.”
“Joel.”
“Up.”
You take his open hands and shuffle up the mattress, knees pushing into the soft sheets either side of his head. You glance down at him.
“I don’t know –”
“’m not gonna tell you again.”
And he doesn’t have to. You steady yourself, locking your fingers through his behind your ass, and slowly lower yourself down to him. His jaw lifts to meet you, and you think about pausing again, telling him he doesn’t have to do this, asking instead to do something else, something he’ll enjoy as much, something you can both –
But then his lips open around the sweetest part of your body, and your lungs freeze. His tongue slips between, daring where you need him most, and your body sighs in equal parts relief and pleasure.
You’re so fucking wet. You can feel it, leaking onto his lips, spreading around your own as he kisses you, licks you, takes in every drop of you. Your back curls, lips fall open to the ceiling, breath comes in short wisps.
It’s been almost two weeks since the two of you felt like this. Hot, wet, needy. Two weeks of waiting for the other to come back, two weeks of reaching for the phone and deciding against it once the number’s dialed, two weeks of nothing.
And now – everything. Everywhere. Every part of your body ignited for him. You feel him fucking everywhere.
You lean all of your weight onto the palm of your hands, pushing all of it into Joel’s. He’s steady, strong, letting you rock and swirl your hips as he laps at your core.
“Right there,” you whisper, head rolling back. “Keep – keep – oh, fuck, Joel. What the f–?”
He slowly lowers his hands, letting you untangle your fingers and place them on the bed. His own come to hook around your thighs, clamping you as close against him as you can possibly be.
Two weeks of nothing. And now, five minutes of everything. The shards of light from outside blur across your vision; heat starts to prickle up your spine, tickling the back of your neck. You’re smiling, filthy and desperate.
“I’m gonna –” you breathe, and Joel hums. “’m gonna c– come.”
You can hear his response, though he doesn’t say a word. Then, come.
Your hips motion forward. Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Joel’s tongue slips between your folds, warm on the inside of your cunt. And you rock back. Unwind. Unfurl. Exhale. His bottom lip puckers against your clit.
“J-oel. Joel, I’m – you’re – fuck.”
He moans against your sex. His hips shift behind you. Buck upwards, carefully.
Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Tighten – inhale. Unwind. Unf-url. Ex-hale. Tighten. Inh– clamp. Fuck. I’m there. Unwind. Warm. Wet. Tongue. Exhale. Tongue. Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Joel –
Your fingers curl around his bedsheets, nails dig into the cotton. Your orgasm sends a flood of hot pleasure across your cunt, rains down over Joel’s lips, and sets fireworks off through your body which explode into the dark room in the form of a throaty moan.
You’re not sure when you come to. You’re not sure your arms can bear the weight of your body. But when your eyes blink open, he’s kissing the inside of your thighs.
His mouth is glistening. Moustache and beard covered in you. Soft lips pearlescent with your spend. Your body feels heavy, unbearable. You lift your leg and tumble onto the mattress by his side, pussy throbbing when you land.
“I love you,” you whisper, and not for any particular reason. Not because of what he just did. Not because you’re naked in his bed.
But maybe because it feels like this is what you were made to do. To love and to be loved – by him. It feels like this entire thing has been, from its genesis, an exchange. An understanding. Immediate and certain. Here are all the parts of me. You know what to do.
As if there needed no further explanation. No instruction, no tutorial. You just knew.
He pushes himself up, leans over your frame. His jaw lowers, and he licks into your mouth tenderly.
“Gotta be inside you, baby,” he says, and at the same time, your fingers find the buttons of his shirt. “Gotta feel you again.”
You nod against him. Fuck me fuck me fuck me.
Joel’s hands are on his belt, pulling it through the loops, dropping it to the floor. Your help him tug his jeans off when he undoes the button. The material of his underwear rubs against your sex; your creamy arousal smears all over the black fabric. You can feel the weight of his stiff cock beneath. It dizzies your head.
He lets your fingers sneak below the elastic, lowering it until he springs free, slapping against the bottom of his tummy. You could fucking drool at the sight of him – the pink tip, beaded with precum; the thick vein on the underside of the shaft; his balls below it, heavy and waiting. Your hands wrap around him and pump slowly as he drags his boxers down, kicking them off at the foot of the bed.
He groans, hips thrusting gently into your palms as you squeeze him. Your fingers slip between your folds, collecting your own slick, coating him in it as you fist him.
“So good, babygirl,” Joel breathes, leaning down to kiss you. “You gonna take it all?”
“Mhm,” you reply, tongue slipping against his.
“Yeah,” he says, “my girl can take it.”
You let his hand shadow over yours, the two of you guiding his cock towards your entrance together. It glides between your dripping folds, the head sifting effortlessly from your clit to your tight hole and back again. Joel laughs, teeth clashing with yours, as he dips in and out, teasing you.
Your ass lifts from the mattress, any movement to draw him nearer. “Stop,” you gasp.
Joel pauses. “Stop?”
“No,” you bleat, “don’t stop. Just – fucking do it.”
“Do what, darlin’?”
“Fuck me.”
And he sinks in.
You’d be lying if you said all you’d done for the last two weeks was cry, mope, and stare at the ceiling. That’d be discrediting everything that this little affair was built on. It’s impossible to forget how the thing fucking started – your hands between your legs, Joel watching from the doorway.
In the moments you didn’t feel the mind-numbing tsunami of heartache overcome you – you felt something else. Memories of his hands on you, the trail of his tongue between your legs, the swell of his cock deep inside you. You tried to replicate it a handful of times with your hands. But nothing – not your fingers, not two, three, or four – nothing stands a chance against him.
He pushes in slow at first, drawing out when he’s halfway, and then in again as he covers himself in the wet his tongue left behind. When he’s soaked, glistening and gleaming, he thrusts. Hard. His tip catches on your cervix, and your back arches in a mix of pain and delight.
Something throbs deep inside as he bottoms out. You feel your opening stretch around his base. You feel your legs widen as if by instinct, accommodating the size of him, the width of him, the pace of him.
You throw an arm over his shoulder, elbow hanging on the nape of his neck. His sweaty forehead sticks to yours, and your hand cups his cheek.
“Harder,” you tell him, and he listens.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants, “fuck, you’re so tight. Oh, my – I ain’t gonna last.”
“Don’t – want you – to,” you cry, body jumping as he fucks you quicker, quicker, harder, deeper. “Want to – come – together.”
Your head tips back against the bed, and Joel’s lips attach to your neck. He’s moaning into your skin, teeth biting down, breath hot and quick. He’s not gonna last he’s not gonna last he’s not –
“F-u-ck, Joel,” you sob, your walls starting to close in around him, “feels so – f-fucking good, oh!”
“I know, darlin’, I know. C’mere.”
He takes your cheek and pulls your face back to his, lines his lips with yours and kisses you. It’s messy, haggard, fucking all over the place as your bodies bounce together, but he tastes like sweat, and sex, and you, and him.
“Missed this so fuckin’ much,” he grunts, hips pounding. “Missed bein’ inside you. You know how bad I needed you?”
“Tell me,” you slur, echoing his own words back to him.
He smirks. “Best fucking pussy I ever had, sweetheart. Best – I ever – had.”
“Don’t pull out,” you hum against his lips, and his jaw pulls back a fraction. “Don’t.”
“Baby,” he says, strained, and your head tilts.
“Need it,” you tell him. “Please. Need you.”
He nods, leaning back into you, letting you connect your mouths again. His lips shudder when you pull away, the thought translated clear as day from your mouth to his. And he knows, and he drives in harder, and he fucks the image from your mind. Who the fuck is Lois, when you’re under him and he’s this deep between your legs?
You look up into his eyes, and you find your answer. She’s nobody. There’s only you.
Your body feels liquid, your mind like fog. You pull him into your body, deeper and deeper, until you’re sure you’re one, and there is no place where he ends and you begin, and you’re sure this is what it feels like, this is what those words feel like, not just the sound of them, not just the way his lips move around them, but the shape of them on and in and around your body. Something deafening, something blinding, something screaming from the pits of your lungs as you come all around him, and you feel him come all around you.
His warmth spurts deep inside you, filling you up, dripping down your walls as he collapses into your shoulder, a loud moan drilling into your collarbone. He slows, thrusts in and out gently, pushing his spend deeper and mixing it with yours.
It's everywhere. The feeling. The pulsing, the humming, the singing. He’s everywhere. Him. In your brain and in your lungs and in your body and in your cunt. And you want to keep him there, hold him there, keep your bodies together for five more minutes, just five more minutes.
But then he’s panting into your skin, pressing kisses into that little dip between your collarbone and your chest, and he slowly slips out, come dripping from where he leaves.
He presses his palm deep into the sheets by your head, lifts off of you – but your arm is still around his neck, and you lean with him. Tilted on his mattress, holding onto him, letting him kiss your head; letting his hand move across the surface of your stomach, mapping the gentle slope over your belly button and scaling the tiny mountains of your hipbones. Kneading softly into the skin over which his seed sits, warm and snug, deep inside you. It’s new. You think you love it.
And he’s whispering, “Good girl, did so good for me,” and he nuzzles his nose into your hair, and he tilts your chin back until he can see your face, see your expression, and he smiles with relief when he clocks your doe eyes, your blissful smile, the sweet tinge of red on your cheeks.
“I love you,” he tells you, and you’re staring at his lips.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
You look up to his eyes. “Again.”
“I love you.”
You smile. It breaks into a laugh. “Again,” you whisper, and he kisses you.
Slowly, only once you pull away from him and your breath steadies, Joel takes your body and carefully shifts. He turns onto his back, settles you on his chest, your hips between his thighs. He runs a gentle hand over your hair and you lie against his sweat-shining chest, his heartbeat whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
Love and sex, as far as you knew, were always two different things. Separate. One, you weren’t even sure existed. The other, nothing more than a need to be satisfied. Something deep within you, something no one had ever managed to touch. And then Joel. And his lips, and his tongue, and his hands and his cock.
And suddenly the two – love and sex – begin to blur, their edges touch frantically. They bleed into one another, until there are no longer two distinct forms; instead, one big shape which has the curve of your hips and the cut of his jaw.
You love him. And he loves you. You’ve heard it translated between your minds longer than you care to admit, and now – you’ve felt it. Transferred between your bodies. You love him. Jesus, you love him.
It’s as terrifying as it is thrilling. Enamoring, and yet dangerous.
“So,” you sigh, “what’s next?”
He glances down, lifts his eyebrows and gives his head a shake. His hand lifts off of your shoulder with a shrug.
“Like, your next move. What happened with the other eight?”
“The other eight?”
“Mhm. Me, Sarah’s mom, makes two. There are eight others, right? What’d you do afterward?”
“Kicked ‘em out.”
You lift a heavy hand and slap his chest. He shudders with laughter.
“I dunno, baby. Wasn’t all like this.”
Your brows knit. “Like what?”
He takes a deep breath. Your head rises as his lungs fill. “Lyin’ in bed afterward. Talkin’.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“What?” he asks, smirking.
“Who even were they? I wanna know.”
“Why?”
“Just do. I wanna hear about ‘em. When was the last one, before me?”
Joel’s eyes drift off to the ceiling above you, thinking. “May.”
“M–?” You jump up, pushing yourself off of his body. “May?” you repeat, eyes wide. “That’s…so recent.”
“Recent?” He chokes back a laugh. “When’s your last?”
You furrow your brows, dropping his gaze. “We’re not talking about me,” you mumble, thumbs twiddling.
Your last had been two nights before you flew home. You’d gone out with your roommates and dragged home Matteo, an exchange student who you’d worked with on a group project for your screenwriting class. He was three inches shorter than you. He bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you until he came. Then he made himself some cereal, ate half of it, and left.
Joel doesn’t really need to hear about him, you think.
“Do I know any of them?” you ask in attempt to change the subject.
Joel pulls a face. His lips tighten, teeth clench. His eyes narrow to a thin line, looking at you through his eyelashes. He nods tentatively.
“Shut the fuck up. Who is it? Who?”
“I dunno if you know her, but she knows you.”
“What’s her name?”
“Your dad gave us a ride home from the bar. She ‘n him got to talkin’, and he said he had a daughter –”
Your fist lightly drops onto his chest. “Joel, if you don’t fucking tell me who it is, I –”
“She’s an elementary teacher. Long, dark hair. Good few years older ‘n you. Think she said her little sister went to your school.”
“Who – was – it?”
He makes the face again. This time his eyes close over, waiting for the penny to drop. His head shakes lightly.
“You –? No, Joel. Come on. Please don’t…Are you fucking serious? You don’t remember her name?”
“It was a long night, alright?”
“How did you forget her damn name?”
He shrugs. “I don’t fuckin’ know. I was drunk, baby.”
“Elementary teacher? I don’t know anybody whose sister teaches elementary.”
“Guess we’ll never know.” Joel shrugs, and you shake your head at him.
You’re picturing Joel stumbling out of Frank’s, arm in arm with a brunette, heavy feet dragging along the sidewalk while your dad chitters in his ear about the Rangers, or about some rude bartender, or about…you. The brunette turns, and her face is yours. Your features, your smile. Your hand linked through Joel’s. C’mon, baby. ‘s go home.
You chase the image away. It slips from your mind like dust cleared from a countertop. Would never. Could never. Should never.
You replace it with something lighter. Something to make you forget about the dust.
“Does…Does my dad ever go home with anyone?”
“What?”
You don’t answer. He heard you.
“That’s…No. I ain’t answerin’ that.”
“Oh, come on. If you’re takin’ women home left, right, and center, he’s gotta be seein’ that. Does he?”
“I was not takin’ home women left, right, and – No, darlin’, no. It’s inappropriate.”
“Yeah, you’re right. And I’m known for my appropriate behavior, y’know,” you gesture between your naked bodies, “I’m known for the good life choices I make.”
“This,” Joel hooks his hands under your arms and drags you up until your chin meets his, “is a good life choice.”
“Yeah?” you ask through a giggle, your nose bumping his.
Joel smiles softly, runs a hand over the back of your head. Looks between your eyes, a twinkle in his. Yes.
Your lips crash together like waves on the rocks. You’re the sea; he’s the stone. Two different worlds, suddenly married in some unforeseen twist of nature. And when you pour over him, your body lighting him in a twinkling glow of ocean, it’s as though you never existed apart from one another. It’s as natural as the waves on the shore.
“Alright, darlin’,” Joel mumbles against your skin. “Speakin’ of inappropriate. I gotta get you home.”
“Why can’t I just stay the night?” you complain. “Like last time. Tell ‘im we’re watchin’ a movie again…”
Joel’s head rests on your arm. “He’s worried sick about you. Ain’t no way he’ll let you spend the night here. You know that. Plus, Sarah’ll be long done with Rita’s cross stitch by now.”
He sits up and you roll into his lap, head resting on the soft skin of his belly. He looks down at you, head tilted, eyes glowing hazel.
You stare right back. The dimples in his cheeks dig deeper when you whisper, “Kickin’ me out right after we finally make up. I see how it is, Miller.”
Joel’s shoulders hunch. “Happens to all of ‘em. Warned ya.”
He shifts off the bed and begins gathering his clothes. You sit up and watch as he pulls his boxers snug over his hips, swipes his tee from the carpet at his feet. As he drapes it over his scruffy chest, your half-naked form meets his at the foot of the bed.
His fingers knot in your hair. You lean into his arms, legs giving as he kisses you gently, breathing you in, stealing any more words of protest from your tongue.
“I love you,” he whispers when he pulls away, tip of his nose brushing off yours. “You know that?”
“Somebody told me somethin’ to do with that, yeah.”
He smiles. “Get dressed.”
You pull the rest of your clothes back on in silence, tossing socks and jeans across the room to one another, giggling like a pair of kids. After all you just did, the palpable pleasure you just sent hammering through one another – this is the part you wish you could bottle. The laughter, the love. The attempts to keep holding onto him, even as he tries to pull his arm through the sleeve of his shirt, even as he links his belt back through his jeans, as he bends to tie his boots.
The fun of it. The hope of it.
The foolish, foolish hope.
“Hoodie.” Joel flings it up towards you, crouched as he tightens his laces.
You pull it on over your bra. Flatten your flyaway hairs, stand straight before him.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
“You got your phone?”
Your hands instinctively pat your body down. “Oh, nah,” you realize, “musta left it at home.”
Joel nods and heads into the hallway, you at his heel. At the bottom of the stairs, you glance around his house, like it’s the first and last time you’ll see it wrapped into one. It looks different; two weeks of absence and you notice things you hadn’t before.
His coat hanging by the door, probably untouched since early spring. The bowl on the side table where his and Sarah’s keys live. The guitar in the corner of the room, the books in the shelves above it. All him. Every little piece of it. He’s reflected in every object in the room. He’s reflected in you.
You drive back to your dad’s place in silence. Comfortable, sweet silence. Your fingers ghost across his palm the entire time, watching out the window as the dark neighborhood soars by in a blur of porch lights and mailboxes. All too quickly, you’re back in front of your own house.
“What do we do now?” you ask, and through the darkness you see Joel’s smile fall.
After a moment’s silence, heavy and contemplative, he looks back up. Softens when his eyes land on you.
“We’ll be alright,” he tells you, and you believe him.
You lean forward and press a quick but tender kiss to his lips, and your fingers latch around the door handle. Joel’s hand finds the back of your head, keeping your mouth on his.
“Gotta – let me – go,” you mumble between kisses, and he hums a laugh in response. “Joel.”
“I know,” he whispers, finally pulling back. “I know.”
You smile, head tilting into his palm. “I’ll text you.”
He nods once. “See you, babygirl.”
You slip out of the truck and wander past to your front door, twirling as you click the handle. Joel laughs, and the truck reverses back onto the street. You wait for it to disappear before closing the door, and step into the unlit hallway.
The TV lights the living room at the opposite end. You stop by the kitchen, feeling the grumpy rumble of your stomach. Your dad’s armchair is sat facing the screen. You lean over to double check he’s not sat in it, fast asleep while Rangers highlights play on loop before his eyelids.
When you swivel the plaid pattern towards your knees, its only occupant is the remote. You flick the TV off and pad back over to the kitchen, filling a bowl with some chips. You’re hunched over at the refrigerator when his footsteps clunk slowly down the stairs, and he materializes like a specter around the doorway.
“Hey.”
You straighten up, lit in a nervous blue hue from the fridge. “Hey, yourself.”
“Joel gone?”
“’bout ten minutes ago. Where’ve you been? You left the TV on.”
“Just…y’know. You get those brochures?”
Fuck. You were at Joel’s under the premise of picking up fucking UCLA pamphlets – and you’ve come home empty-handed. The lie doesn’t form on your tongue as quickly as Joel’s did earlier. Something else on your mind.
“…sure. Some…interesting stuff.”
Your dad nods. “Good. Good, I’m glad. We can take a look in the mornin’.”
Your eyebrows flinch. “Yeah. That’d be – yeah. I’m…gonna head to bed, alright?”
“Sure,” he says, nodding.
With a can of soda under your arm and your bowl of chips in the other, you nod and cautiously shuffle towards him. His lips are a thin line. You duck by him and trot upstairs, and make it as far as the landing before he’s calling out again.
“Oh, hey.” He holds a hand out, and disappears in a jog towards the living room. You drop back down a couple steps, watching him swipe something from the dining table and pace back over. “You left your phone.”
He’s presenting it like a jeweler shows a Rolex – or maybe more like an investigator handles evidence. Holding it out in almost trembling fingers, afraid to mark it with his fingerprints. Your eyes flit from the phone to his, unsure which of the two frightens you more.
That’s not where I fucking left it.
You lean over and take it from his palm. “Thanks…”
“I think maybe you got a text, just then. It was lit up. Maybe I’m seein’ things.”
You force the corners of your mouth upward. Your cheeks inflate with nerves and shame. “Thanks,” you repeat, and then: “Everything okay, Dad?”
“Everything’s fine, kiddo. Sleep well.” He makes back for the living room.
As you turn, you unlock your screen.
Joel: Left your shirt here, and your bikini from last week. This mean I get to be the one wearing your clothes now?
Panic spills over your head, a wave of freezing cold washing over you when you read his words. Did Dad read them, too?
You continue walking, feeling the weight of your dad’s strange voice on your back as your feet drag you one by one up the stairs. When you make it back to the landing, your cool flees you, and you take the rest of them two at a time until you’re leaning against your bedroom door, panting.
You: Problem. I think my dad saw that text
Joel: How so?
You: When I got home my phone was next to his chair, and he’s being so weird
You: Joel I think he knows something
Joel: I’m sure he doesn’t. He wouldn’t read your phone baby.
He’s trying to reassure you, telling you he wouldn’t even know what it means, maybe he’ll think you spilled something on it, but no matter how many ideas Joel comes up with, none of them slow your heart rate.
You sit down on the edge of your bed, and the anxiety bubbling in your stomach forces you straight back up. Pacing doesn’t help, knowing your dad is directly below you probably hearing the floorboards creak with every step you take.
Your head dizzies with doubts, fears, worries, all frantically throwing themselves against the walls of your skull. You lean your forehead against the cold glass of your window, eyes screwing shut, stars in your vision. Nothing is calming you down.
Joel takes too long to reply back, whether he’s running out of explanations or just fucking forty-eight with an iPhone, but every time your phone buzzes with a new attempt at comfort from him, it only convinces you even more that – no, it wasn’t a stain, it wasn’t a joke, Joel has your top because you took it off for him an hour ago, and then let him fuck you in his bed.
And your dad fucking knows it.
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#dad's best friend#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal joel miller#cowboy like me#smut#fluff#angst
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Is it bad I just wanna suck Joel off with the highest chance of someone coming in on us? Just like, imagine it, ugh
Birthday Boy
Pairing || Joel Miller x Female!Reader
Summary || It's his day, of course you'd treat him well today.
Word Count || 1,227
Contents & Warnings || Fluff & Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, pet names (baby, hon/honey, sweetheart, good girl), oral (male receiving), teasing, face/throat fucking, spit/saliva, cum swallowing, getting caught, established relationship, ONE spank, 2 mentions of the word Daddy (said by Joel)
Disclaimer || This is my first ever fic, I'm sorry if it's not super good. I promise whatever comes next will be better!
It was Joel's birthday and you invited Tommy over to celebrate with you and Sarah, forcing him to stay home for the day. It's not that he hated to celebrate his day, he was usually busy with work and came home late.
"How old are you again, old man" you hear from the living room, followed by a chuckle from Tommy.
"If you think 28 is old, I'm scared about what you think in 20 years, hon'," you say walking back in the living room with two bowls of popcorn, placing them on the coffee table and sitting right next to your birthday boy.
"Thank you, sweetheart," Joel says while wrapping an arm around you and placing a peck on your temple. Your relationship with Joel has been amazing for the past 2 years. When thinking back about it, you've got thank Sarah and her boldness to get her father into the dating scene. Who's daughter would slip her own dad's number to the local dinner waitress? Only in the Miller household, that's for sure.
"Movie in? What we watching again?," Tommy leans over his niece on the floor, grabbing a beer set there only a few minutes ago, Sarah replies, "Men in Black 2." as she wipes down the liquid ring caused by the beer bottle. "Learn to use a coaster next time, please"
"Ok ok, just play the damn thing. I wanna see if this is better then the original," he said before taking a swig of beer. You all sit comfortably, Tommy and Sarah huddled together on the floor and you and Joel cuddling together. You look up at him, admiring his facial features, wondering how he didn't notice his own beauty. He feels your stares and looks down at you and places his forehead against yours before placing a hand on your thigh and facing back to the screen.
There's about a quarter left of the movie now. Sarah had fallen asleep against Tommy, who's starting to feel the effects of the couple of beers. "I'm heading up, want me to take this one too?," he says looking up at the couple on the couch, "I'll tuck her in and whatever."
"Yeah that's fine Tommy, thank you," you say while smiling at the two on the floor, watching him pick up the sleeping teen, struggling for a second, then walking up the steps. Soft groans and a "Shh, it's fine, just me" can be heard faintly going up the steps.
You and Joel are left alone on the couch and the sequel playing in front of you. Placing a hand on his lap, you lean up and kiss his jaw. "Did you have a good birthday, my love?"
Joel chuckled and pulled you onto his lap, hands placed on your hips, "Of course I did, I always enjoy the quality time we spend, together as a family," he then leans forwards towards your ear whispering, "and when we're alone," followed by a playful smack on your ass.
"Uh, you nasty old man," you jokingly gasped out, lightly hitting Joel's chest. He let out a hearty laugh, both hands now on your ass, "Well this 'old man' loves you and everything you do, baby."
You place your hands on his chest, rubbing softly against the button down he wore. You sit in silence for awhile until you break it.
“Do you want me to suck your dick?”
Your words almost gave him whiplash, eyes blinking furiously as he had a confused and intriguing expression on his face.
“Right now?”
“Yeah dummy, right now.”
“Where did this come from, pretty girl?” His lips turned up in a smirk at the thought of you sucking him off right here on the couch.
“Maybe I'm just in the mood to suck your dick. So do you want me to or not?," you say smirking.
“Fuck, you know I could never resist your offer, baby.” His hand reaches up to your mouth, thumb caressing your lips, thinking about them wrapped around him, making his cock twitch. You reach down and grabbed his covered bulge and palmed him in your hand. The idea of sucking him off had his cock hardened.
“What about Sarah and Tommy, sweetheart? What if they come back down?”
“Well, you need to be my eyes and ears, old man, because I’ll be too busy with your pretty dick in my mouth.”
He groaned in anticipation when you got up and made yourself comfortable on your knees, peering up at him through your thick lashes. Quickly, you pulled his jeans and boxers down, his hard dick springing into view, making you lick your hungry lips.
His hand petting your head lovingly gave you the encouragement you needed to have at him.
You licked his tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum that was forming on it. The feeling of your tongue on him and the risk of getting caught had him groan out.
He pushed your head on his cock, becoming slightly impatient. He wanted to feel your wet and tight mouth rubbing against him. When he was in your throat, he groaned out in satisfaction, his eyes closing in bliss.
You sucked him off like your life depended on it, slurping and moaning around his cock. Your mouth and hand worked together to bring him towards the edge. You released his length for a moment with a pop and spat on him, watching your saliva trickle down his heavy cock, making you hungry for more.
"Fuck baby, you're doing so damn good. Sucking Daddy's cock so good," he says hand gripping your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper once again.
You took him all the way to the back of your throat again, making your eyes water. The light gagging made him shiver on the spot. You pushed through the slight discomfort, wanting to make him feel as good as possible.
He fucked your mouth hard, saliva dripping down your chin with each force of his hips. “So pretty and messy for me, baby.” He was in awe as he watched you take each inch of him. He was a little over average size, yet was thick enough to make your jaw hurt in the best ways.
“Ah, fuck,” he leaned his head back while shutting his eyes tight, “I'm gonna come.”
A thrust or two more, and he was shooting his hot cum down your throat, some coming out from the sides of your mouth. You continued to bob your head on him until he was done spilling every single drop.
“Show me,” he moaned, tugging you off of his softening dick. You showed him your empty mouth, tongue stuck out with no trace left of him in your mouth.
"Such a good girl for me. Knows exactly how to treat her Daddy," he groans while taking his free hand and rubbing your cheek, causing you to lean into his touch.
"Open that pretty mouth again for me, my love." You follow his orders opening your mouth allowing him to spit in your empty cavity and without being told to, you swallow happily.
"Hey lovebirds, next time ya'll are havin' fun, invite me yeah?" You look up in the direction of the stairs, hearing the other male voice in the house chuckle. "If you don't, just keep it down next time."
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#the last of us#the last of us smut
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please could i request a joel miller x female reader smut where they’re playing 21 questions and they’ve always flirted and she asks him awkward/sexual questions like “which way does your cock bend” and “what turns him on” etc etc, and it end with hella smut, lots of daddy usage and maybe squirting i’m a sucker for squirting 🫶
A/n: Hey :) sorry it took me a while to get back to you, but we here now. Hope u enjoy :) and feel free to send more requests
21 Questions
Tw: dom!coded Joel miller, subby!fem reader, innocence, corruption kink, bj, squirting, age gap
18+ minors DNI. Wc: 1.8k
A late evening in early June. 8 o’clock, and the sun shines over a rich dark green lawn, paired with a light blue suburban ranch home. The wind gently pushes the colorful windchimes near the oak door, on a porch entrance. Inside, a young woman. Outside, an older man, shuffling upon the porch.
—————————————————
The doorbell rings throughout the house, you rush quickly to open it. Tonight you had on a pure white mini-skirt, a lacy top to match, that showed off your cleavage perfectly. You were still a Virgin, yet something changed when you first met Joel. You wanted him, in a way that you haven’t wanted any guy you’ve met before. Besides, Joel was not just some guy. He was a man. With your meet-up with him tonight, you wanted him to know how you really felt. You just didn’t know how to do it.
Your small, dainty, hand opens the door. There he is. “Heya, sweetheart,” his thick Southern voice drawls across the living room. Your eyes fixate on his Adam’s Apple, you watch it with curiosity and intent. He catches your glance, chuckling, as you shyly invite him in.
He sits down on the couch, manspread. You gulp, telling your eyes not to draw over to his crotch. “How about a beer, Mr. Miller?,” you offer. “Please, sweetie. Call me Joel. Yeah, I’d like one.” You nod, as you scurry over to the kitchen to bring him a beer. You bend over as you are by the fridge, reaching in for a nice, cold beer for this incredibly attractive man in your living room.
You bring him the beer, and he thanks you, patting the spot next to him, on the couch. A cue for you to sit. You cross your legs, folding your hands over your lap, your diamond ring on your one hand shining. You were quite different from Joel. You did not spend all day in the dirt like he did. This aspect of him, only made you want him more.
“Hey. Um. Can we play twenty-one questions? Maybe get to know each other a little better?,” you gingerly ask. “Sure, hon. How about I start, yeah?”
You nod. “How old are you again?,” he asks. “I’m twenty-two. I know you’re a lot older than me,” you chuckle, looking at him. “Fifty-six,” he replies. You are in awe of this. This was a huge age gap. You start to feel a bit of wetness growing, spreading across your pink lacy thong.
You giggle, crossing your legs together to ease some of that tension. His chiseled arms, the brown — gray stubble on his face, his deep brown eyes, those soft, pink lips. You wanted to kiss him right then and there. You restrained yourself. “Can it be my turn now?,” you ask, batting your eyes at him, while your manicured fingers tap on your smooth, soft, thighs. “Sure, hon. Ask away,” his deep southern drawl just excites you even more.
“What’s your type? Do you like it if someone is younger than you?,” you pose the question as innocently as possible. He chokes on his beer, nervously chuckling, and wiping his mouth with a napkin. You beg him to tell you the truth. Something tells you that you would like the answer you find. “I do, yeah. Frankly, to be honest, hon, someone as young and sweet as you, is exactly my type.”
Your heart rate begins to quicken. You looked into his eyes, it felt as if they were pulling you in. You smile a bit, confessing that you were into him as well. More questions begin to arise, as he downs the beer you gave him, even tilting the bottle towards your mouth so you can have a little sip.
“What turns you on, Mr Miller?,” you say, out of the blue. The both of you were a little tipsy on the beer at this point. He chuckles. “You really wanna know, sweetie?” You nod eagerly. “Well, you see, I like good girls. Obedient, sweet, good girls that listen, wear nice lingerie, and know how to suck cock the right way,” he states, matter of factly.
Your face began to burn as you squirmed around in your seat on the couch. You failed to notice that he had moved a bit closer to you. “I can do that,” you whisper, now noticing how close he was to you.
He smiles, and then brings his face closer to yours, two pairs of lips meeting for a kiss. A long, gentle yet passionate kiss, you felt his tongue slip inside your mouth, his stubble tickling your cheeks in the most wonderful way.
“How about another question, sweetheart,” he starts. You nod. “Ya think that tonight, I can see what’s under that pretty skirt of yours?”
This was it. It was actually happening. “Yes. Please,” you moan a bit, breathily. “My good girl, using her manners. C’mon now. On your knees f’me,” he commands, sternly but softly. Fuck — you loved it.
Your tiny hand palms him through his jeans, feeling the bulge grow bigger and bigger with every stroke of your fingers. Soon enough, a tent in his jeans appears, and you want nothing more than to put your face in it. You look up at him. “Can I?” He nods. You begin to unzip his jeans, your small hands around his belt. Both jeans and belt fall to the floor, and you stare with hungry eyes at his tent in his boxers.
Your small hands gingerly pull off his boxers, revealing his already erect cock, with a good bush to match. You run your hands all over his v-line, tracing spots there, feeling his coarse hair. You shift around on your knees a bit. “Come up, sweetie. I got something better for ya.”
You get back onto the couch, as he lays down, his big arms behind his head, you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. His coarse hand comes up to hold your cheek. “Look at you. Gorgeous. Ready to suck my cock, sweetie?,” he asks, gentle. You nod.
Nervously, you move yourself closer to his cockhead, giving it little kisses, as you make eye contact with him. His deep moans can be heard, softly, like music to your ears.
You give his cock a bit of kisses, before taking it in your mouth, God — it was so soft, so warm, it sat perfectly in your throat!!! Periodically, his cock became firmer, harder, as you took it deep down your throat. You looked up at him for approval.
His eyes were closed, head up high, moaning, softly, you watched those little hairs on his chest slightly move with every of his motions.
His eyes meet yours. A toothy smile. You smile back, as you pamper his cock with some kisses. “Fuck, hun. Jus’ like that. Being such a good girl for me, yeah?,” his raspy voice startled you.
You shook your head, giggling, as his large and hairy hand came up to give your face a few reassuring rubs and nods. You continue your gentle kisses and licks on his cockhead, tracing all three, bulging, prominent veins on the sides.
He stops you. You are confused —- what if he didn’t like your head anymore?! Could you have done something wrong?
“Sweets. Hows about I put it in, yeah? Wanna see how nice and tight and pussy this is,” he gruffly says, waiting for your approval.
You nod, looking at him with those sweet, doe, eyes, as he stands up, towering over you. With one big knee pressing into your thigh, his hands grab onto your thighs and roughly pull you forward. One hand on each side, caging you into him. You’re brought in for yet another kiss, longer this time, sweeter, the both of you smile into it.
You feel his bearded, rough cheek, against yours. Heaven. With that, you see him pull out a box of condoms.
“Joel. No need. I’m on the pill,” you softly say. He looks up, in shock. “Gonna let me, uh…,” he was about to start, then hesitates. “Breed me?,” you finish for him. There was that toothy smile again.
“Open f’me, sweets.” You do as said, your plump thighs spreading on the bed, ready for him to inspect. You were his little cow, all ready to be bred and pumped full of cum, until she couldn’t walk!!
“Fuck. Lemme see how good this cunt’s gonna take me, yeah?,” he asks, a predatory gaze in his eyes. Well, you certainly did feel like his prey. You feel his hard length slide into you, pulsing, hot. It felt like you were filled up to the brim. He was around eight inches, it felt like. You could feel that warm, round sack against your puffy lips. He starts slow, reaching in deep, causing you to shudder as his tip touches the tip of your cervix :)
Soon enough, his hairy thighs slap against yours, as he moves at a bit of a quicker pace. You feel his cock pulsating and twitching inside you, it just turns you on so much!! You squeeze tighter and tighter around him. You feel his veiny hands trail around your front to grip at your soft breasts momentarily, before returning to their guiding place on your hips, his grip so tight on you. Oh God — he was strong.
His grip tightened, rough, calloused fingers on the plush of your hips, tracing over those stretch marks :) You were glad that he liked them.
“Feel you squeezin’ me, princess. Tell me what ya want. Go on,” you hear his deep and a bit slurred voice above you. He must have been absolutely delirious by how tight you were around him. “Want you to breed me, Joel …please,” you whisper out in a breathy moan. You hear his chuckle — you loved how deep his voice was.
“Stay still, babygirl. Gonna give you my cum, gonna - fuck, make you mine, gonna fill you up,” he barely moans out, he was so close, you felt it. You both came at the same time, you were seeing white, hot pleasure, he was seeing the same. You felt a bit of cum spray out onto him, onto those brown, curly hairs all over him, that you loved so much. “Honey. Did you just squirt?,” you hear him ask.
You blush. What if he didn’t like it!? “Hey. Princess.” He must’ve felt your anxiety. “Calm down, yeah? I think it’s cute. Reckon, I’m glad I came over here tonight. You showed me a good time,” he gently says, as you smile up at him, closing your eyes as he gives you a little forehead kiss.
“Can we do this again?,” you sheepishly ask, as he wipes you down with a towel, and then leaning back onto the couch, patting his thigh as a signal for you to come cuddle. You oblige, laying your head on his hairy chest.
“‘’Course, hun. We definitely will.”
#liz’s masterlist#liz writes 🖤#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#dom!joel miller#joel tlou x reader#joel miller x hyperfem!reader#joel miller hot#joel miller self insert
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if you still write for carmen, would you mind writing something soft and sweet for him <3
omg anon i'm so sorry this was late 😭 i hope you can forgive me and i hope you like this!
warnings: language, mentions of cut skin and blood, mostly just carmy taking care of you :,)
“Honey, that knife is really fuckin’ sharp. Be careful, yeah?” Carmy warns from the sink.
You roll your eyes, pausing your cutting to look at Carmy pointedly.
“Yes, Chef,” you say exaggeratedly, waving the knife around to punctuate your words. You appreciated his concern, really, but you could handle yourself.
“You know I hate it when you call me that, hon,” he says, smiling softly at you.
You dismiss his protests with a wave of your hand and turn back to the onion you were cutting. There was one little slice of onion left. It was narrow, but you wanted it a bit smaller, so you carefully lined up the knife to split it two.
It all happened so fast you didn’t even process what had happened. It wasn’t until later that realized that you must have pushed the knife down a little too far to the left, and the blade of the knife had sliced cleanly into your left thumb instead of the onion. The blood had come out flowing more freely than drinks at a frat party.
“Shit, shit, shit!” you hissed quietly under your breath. You jerked your hand away, narrowly avoiding dripping blood onto the cutting board and onions slices. Carmy’s head whipped around, and his mouth dropped open when he caught sight of your hand.
"Holy fuck," Carmy exclaims, his eyes getting as round as a dinner plate. He tore off a couple paper towels from the roll on the counter, lifting your wrist with one hand and wrapping your finger with the other.
"Just hold that in place, honey, okay? Keep a shit ton of pressure on it," he instructs you, his voice muffling on the last sentence as he stuck his head in various cabinets. Where did he put that fucking first aid kit?
After finding his cabinet raid unsuccessful, his hands began to fly to the drawers in the kitchen island, jerking them open and not bothering to close them when he didn't find the kit. He frantically rummaged around until he finally found what he was looking for: gauze pads and medical tape.
"Okay, okay, I'm here," Carmy says, carefully unwrapping the now-soaked paper towels from your hand. "Is it still bleeding?"
"I don't know," you say, trying to prevent the lump in your throat from showing in your voice. "I know you said to put pressure but... it just hurt too much to keep pressing down on it. M'sorry," you finish, hot tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.
"No, no, no, don't apologize. It was an accident, hon. That's all it was," Carmy tells you, squinting at your thumb. He had wrapped the gauze tightly around your finger, and was now putting on the medical tape to keep it in place. "Is it too tight, honey? Is that okay?" he asks, rotating your thumb to examine it further.
You knew that if you opened your mouth to speak, your voice would falter, so you simply shook your head no, forgetting that Carmy's eyes were completely focused on your finger. When he didn't hear a verbal response, he finally looked up at you. And when he did, you sort of lost it. You shook your head again, but hot tears began to run down your cheek.
"Does it hurt real bad, honey?" Carmy asks, eyebrows furrowed with the utmost concern.
"No. I mean- yes, it hurts, but... Carm. You literally told me that the knife was sharp. And I ended up slicing open my thumb three seconds later. Like an absolute idiot," you say, your voice cracking with emotion.
"It wasn't on purpose, though, baby," Carmy replied, furrowing his eyebrows. His hands come up to rest on either side of your face, the pads of his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. "Hey. Can you look at me, hon?"
You're forced to lift your eyes up to meet Carmy's gaze, and when you see the amount of tenderness in his eyes, it makes the lump in your throat grow even bigger.
“Every single chef I know has sliced themself open at one point. And that’s how you know they’re the real deal. It’s like... it’s basically like a badge of honor. So don’t sweat it, okay?” Carmy says softly, kissing the top of your forehead. “You want me to finish these up for you?” he asks, gesturing to the onions.
“I don’t think you have a choice, Carm. I’m basically incapacitated,” you laugh tearfully, looking at your bloodied thumb.
“Okay,” Carmy chuckles. “Just sit tight. I should have this done in a minute. Do you want some Advil?”
"No, m'okay," you promise. "Although I think I'm developing an intense hatred for onions now. Fuck onions," you say, chuckling.
Carmy chuckled at that, using his knife to sweep the onions into the pasta sauce he was making. He made his way over to you, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Fuck onions," he said, smiling at you.
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto blurb#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#onestopfanficshop
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Once Upon a Time 10
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: Andy Barber
Part of the Bookstore AU
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
A message pops up on your Instagram. You open it with dread, a blank profile with some generic photo of a bookshelf. You already know it's him.
‘Your aunt is very nice.’
You nearly drop your phone as you glance over at Jo. She sits with a cross stitch as she watches a rerun of Cold Case. You shudder and look back down at the screen.
‘Why r u doing this?’
You hit the arrow as your sweaty hands stick to the silicon case.
‘Why am I being nice?’ He replies.
You can't. You stand up with your phone and your Aunt Jo peeks over with an arched brow. You give an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, I'll be right back.”
You cross the room and pass the kitchen doorway. You lock yourself in the bathroom and look at your phone. You see three dots then they disappear.
‘You followed me.’
He sends a rolling eye emoji. You nearly scream. What the hell? He's rolling his eyes at what? Stalking you?
‘More than once.’
He sends a laughing emoji with tears. You huff. He's so confusing. Then a photo pops up, buffering before finally loading.
It's Chelsea, well, the top of her head and she's…
You want to puke. You can't believe he'd send you that. Does she know he took that? Even if she's a bitch, you feel bad.
‘Looks like I'm all taken care of.’ He texts.
‘Looks like you are.’
You turn your phone to do not disturb and lock it. He's disgusting. You don't even get what he wants from you. If he has Chelsea doing all that, why the heck is he texting you?
You take your phone to the spare room, what was once your room, and leave it there. You don’t want to be bothered by him, even if you can’t shake the uneasiness stirring your nerves. You go back to the living room and sit down on the couch. You stare unseeingly at the television as the syndicated legal series drones on.
“What was that, honey?” Jo asks, poking her needle up then pulling it through.
“Work,” you lie, “um, they keep moving around the schedule or whatever. It’s... frustrating.”
“Ah, that’s too bad,” she tug the thread to its limit, “you’re stressed. Maybe you should take a day off.”
“Maybe,” you rub your forehead, “or get a different job.”
“Could do,” she shrugs, “you know I’ll support whatever you do.”
“Yeah,” you drop your hands into your lap and look at her, “I know.”
You turn back to screen and try to hide your despair. Should you try to tell her about Andy? The thought’s crossed your mind a dozen times over. Your Aunt Jo is fierce and loving, she might just believe you but it’s not her holding you back. It’s him. He’s dangerous and he hasn’t yet shown you how dangerous.
It’s better she doesn’t know. Not right now. You’ll have to deal with Andy. Just not tonight.
📖
You grumble around the last mouthful of coffee. Another day, another shift. While Jo’s suggestion was tempting, you really can’t give up the hours. Nonetheless, you haven’t sat on your hands. Several applications were forward late into the night as sleep eluded you. Now you can barely hold your head up.
It shouldn’t be very busy at opening. You can survive on an instant coffee packet from the breakroom. You yawn and grab your coat and bag. The snow puffs up around your boots as you step outside, shivering as you tuck your scarf into the top of your jacket. You pull your hood up against the frigid wind and tamp down the fresh powder as you come down the walk.
As you get to the sidewalk, you stop and look both ways. Before you can cross and head for the bus stop, a horn honks, jarring you. You step back as a familiar car rolls up. You cross your arms, heart racing, and peek back over your shoulder at the safe hold of your aunt’s house.
“Buses are behind,” Andy calls through the window as it slides down, “you’ll be late...”
“I’m fine,” you sidestep to walk around the rear bumper and he shifts into reverse, blocking your escape.
“I know your aunt didn’t teach you to be so ungrateful--”
“Don’t talk about my aunt,” you snap as you turn back the other way and he rolls forward. You stop short and stomp your foot, “why are you doing this? Why are you bugging me? Chelsea--”
“I don’t want Chelsea, she’s a slut. She’s easy. She gets the job done,” he sneers.
You shake your head and blow out a cloud of warmth into the crisp air, “I’m sure there are other--”
“You,” he says tersely, “that’s it. No one else.”
You close your eyes and shudder, “I... I’m not interested... like that, Andy. I just was being friendly because it’s my job. Can’t you understand?”
“I don’t understand,” he snarls, “I’m a lawyer, I’m good-looking, I take good care of myself and I could do the same for you. You wouldn’t have to work in some shitty bookstore.”
You flutter your lashes and shake your head, “I...”
“What? Why don’t you want me?” He leans over the seat further, glaring at you.
“How old are you?” You blurt out, immediately sealing your lips in regret.
He scoffs, “and how old are you? Bit over the hill to be in retail, huh? I know you’re not some college kid getting a few extra bucks. You’re a grown woman, your life is a mess. You need someone like me.”
You huff, “I need you to leave me alone.”
He clucks and sits up. The car idles in front of you as he sits silently. He grips the real and clears his throat, “I’ll be seeing you for dinner. Aunt Jo sure is sweet, maybe you could learn a thing or two from her.”
The window rolls up before you can spit back a retort. The mention of your aunt flares in your chest. How dare he. You know it’s more than a snipe at you, he’s not saying her name for nothing. It’s a threat.
He steers away down the snowy road, the snow packing beneath the weight of the car. You watch his headlights stop at the corner before you kick through the snow. Fuck.
#andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#andy barber x reader#drabble#once upon a time#defending jacob#au#bookstore au#series
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Kissing Them Goodnight
Jake Sully being a loving dad, post-atwow
Jake watched as all his children slept peacefully. He returned from his hunt very late, missing the opportunity to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight. But the one thing he learned is that he would not live with regrets when it came to them. He would kiss them as many times as he could… before it was too late.
He often thought of Neteyam, taken from them too early. He was just a boy with so much more life to live. Jake tried hard to not let the past consume him. Of course he missed his eldest son, the pain was always there. But he had three more children who needed him, children who needed to grow up with a present and loving father.
Jake walked towards the hammock where Kiri slept. Her breathing was slow and even. He leaned down so that his face was level with hers, and he caressed her cheek. She opened her eyes and smiled softly at her father. Jake felt sorry to wake her, but he wanted to hear her voice… it always calmed his heart when he needed it the most.
“Hi Dad.”
“Hi babygirl.”
“I missed you today,” she said with tired eyes. Jake smiled when he heard this and it warmed his heart.
“I’m sorry I took so long, babygirl. But I just wanted to say goodnight and tell you that I love you.”
“I love you more,” she said before hoisting herself up and leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Then she laid back down, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
Jake looked at her for a little while longer. She was so beautiful and sweet. Although she was now a teenager, she would always be his little girl. He was still unsure how he and Neytiri were blessed with a gift like Kiri. But he knew the great mother had a plan for her… he just wasn’t sure what it was yet.
Jake finally left Kiri’s side and moved to the second hammock where Lo’ak and Tuk were sleeping. Tuk was glued to Lo’ak’s side as he snored lightly. She was supposed to be sleeping on her own, but she always managed to sneak into someone else’s bed… craving the touch of someone else while she slept. Jake thought it was adorable, but Neytiri thought she should learn to sleep by herself sometimes.
Jake put a hand on Tuk’s cheek and rubbed it gently to rouse her. “Baby, wake up,” he whispered, trying his best not to wake Lo’ak.
“Daddy?”
“Hi, hon” Jake began to lift Tuk out of Lo’ak’s hammock.
“Daddy, I wanna stay with Lo’ak tonight,” she whined.
“Shhh baby, let’s let your brother sleep comfortably. He’s had a long day. You’re gunna come sleep with me and mama.”
“Okay,” she said with some disappointment, probably annoyed that she was woken up only to be removed from her big brother’s side. She rubbed her eyes while Jake held her to his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist before finally rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and then ran his hand through her hair.
Lo’ak woke up during this exchange.
“Dad?”
“Hey, son. I was just getting Tuk, I’m sorry we woke you. You can go back to sleep.”
“Thanks. Last time she slept with me, I woke up with her leg on my chest and I could barely breathe.”
“Hey!” Tuk cried, having not yet fallen back asleep.
“Sorry Tuk,” he apologized.
Jake laughed lightly at their brief interaction, glad he could save his son from his youngest’s reckless sleeping habits. He needed rest, things had been difficult for him lately.
“Lo’ak?” Jake called to his son quickly before he fell back asleep.
“Yeah, Dad?”
“I love you.”
Lo’ak smiled and replied “I love you too, Dad. Goodnight Tuk.”
“Tuk Tuk, give your brother a kiss goodnight.” Jake lowered her to peck Lo’ak on the cheek. “Night Lo’ak,” she said softly before Jake lifted her back up again.
He gently rubbed his son’s head before walking over to his and Neytiri’s sleeping mat to put Tuk down. He set her gently on her stomach in between himself and his wife.
“Daddy, Tsireya gave me the prettiest shells for a necklace today. But we have to finish making it, it’s not done yet,” she said with pursed lips and closed eyes as her face was squished against the mat.
Jake smiled at the way she updated him on her day. He wished that she could keep having more innocent moments like this.
He rubbed little circles on her back and whispered “You can tell me all about it tomorrow, baby. Go back to sleep now. I love you.” He told her before kissing her temple.
Once her breathing slowed, Jake leaned over to place a kiss on Neytiri’s eyelids. They twitched slightly, but she did not open them. ‘She must be exhausted’ he thought. But almost immediately, she spoke with her eyes still closed, “Ma Jake?”
Jake chuckled to himself before responding, “yes, my love?”
“Why is Tuk not in her own bed?”
“I should ask you that. She was sleeping with Lo’ak when I got here.”
“She’s sneaky… and she sleeps badly, take her please.”
Jake smiled as he knew this would be his wife’s request. He gently brought Tuk over to his other side where he could shield Neytiri from her nighttime antics.
He wrapped an arm around her so she wouldn’t roll too far in her sleep. At the touch, she moved slightly and gripped his arm with her tiny hand. Just then, Neytiri’s arm slipped around his waist and he felt her warmth as she pressed her body into his side. Jake rubbed her back with his free arm, hoping that she got a restful sleep.
There wasn’t much he could do now. Both his girls had a hold on him, so I guess he would be sleeping in this position for now. But this was just the way he liked it, he would hold them close and not let go. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.
#jake sully x daughter!reader#jake sully and daughter#jake sully#atwow imagines#atwow#avatar: the way of water#neytiri x jake#neytiri and jake#kiri avatar#avatar lo’ak#avatar tuk#avatar fic#avatar the way of water#neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite#tuktirey#dad jake sully#jake sully daughter#lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan#kiri sully#jeytiri#neytiri x daughter!reader#neytiri x daughter
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After Midnight - (jc.b)
➺ Pairing: bf!Jacob x fem!reader
➺ Summary: Wherein Jacob tries to save whatever is left of your birthday and make it the most memorable one possible.
➺ Word Count: 1.3K
➺ Warnings: Considering this smut! (18+, minors DNI), Lots and lots of kissing, some dry humping, groping if you squint, allusions to sex, pet name (honey), a little angst but mostly fluff! Very suggestive.
➺ A/N: Inspired by this ask from @maryamtbz. Sorry this got to you late but hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Proofread once, will go back to fix it when I can!
➺ Network & Tag: @deoboyznet @snowflakewhispers @winterchimez @aimeecarreros
“Honey please talk to me.” Jacob leans his head against the door.
“Leave me alone!” You shout from the other end.
Jacob didn’t want to push any further so he let go of the knob and slowly sat on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden surface as he waited for you to unlock the doorknob. He could slowly feel his heart aching from the gentle sobs coming from the other side of the door.
He was sure he was going to make this birthday the most memorable one ever. Jacob even went as far as planning this birthday as soon as the last one ended, making sure everyone had RSVP’ed in advance and followed up with each person too.
But when two hours had passed since the time you were expecting guests, your hopes were instantly shattered as reality slapped you in the face… No one was coming tonight.
A few hours passed by with Jacob still by your door. While he was waiting, he was already hatching up a backup plan that would hopefully salvage whatever was left of the night. As soon as the idea hit him, he heard you unlock the door. He immediately got up to his feet and knocked before entering, seeing you sitting at the edge of your bed looking like all the energy you had was sucked right out of you.
The image of your tear-stained cheeks along with your puffy eyes were now engraved in Jacob’s mind. If he had only one birthday wish to make for the rest of his life, it would be to never see you in such a sad state ever again.
He immediately sat beside you and pulled you in for a tight hug, before he could even apologize for not giving you the birthday he promised you kept your face buried in his chest, crying even harder than you did earlier. He hugged you tight, petting your hair and kissing the top of your head until you had no tears left to cry.
“C’mon, let’s get you comfy. I’ll make sure this will still be the best birthday ever okay?” He lifts your chin with his finger and kisses the tip of your nose.
Jacob helped you get out of your clothes, wiped the makeup off your face, and even prepared a nice warm bath for you. As soon as you got in the tub, he said to take your time relaxing. At first you were skeptical, but at this point you didn’t really care anymore and just listened to him.
Once you finished and got all dressed up in the comfiest pajamas you could find, you went out of your room to check on Jacob. Instead of the sorry sight of party streamers and balloons around your apartment, you were met with the most breathtaking pillow fort you had ever seen.
“Ta-da!” Jacob throws his hands up in the air, his smile beaming with warmth as you also see him wearing comfy pajamas.
“You- you did this for me?” You ask awestruck.
“Of course, gotta make sure this birthday is still a memorable one right?” Jacob replies.
“But what about-”
“Don’t even think about it, hon. Just sit down, pick your favorite movie, and let’s eat all the party favors and cuddle alright? What do you say?” Jacob lends his hand out to you, waiting for you to take it. You faintly smile, walking towards him as you go down and sit in-between his legs, his arms immediately wrapping around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.
“So, are you up for another movie or do you wanna open gifts?” Jacob asks.
“Opening gifts sounds nice.” You gently say.
“Perfect! Let me get them now.” And safe to say, you did not expect Jacob to turn this simple moment into a funny one as he turns on an informercial voice every time he picks up a gift and hands it to you. Even just getting you to smile and giggle even just a little bit was enough for him.
“And lastly, we have a gift from a mister… Jacob Bae!” He shouts. “He’s got a great name, I think he might even be handsome too.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you laugh. Jacob crawls next to you, crossing his legs as you subconsciously drape your legs on top of his lap.
“Here you go.” He smiles holding out his gift in front of you.
You almost feel the wind get knocked out of your lungs as soon as you unwrap the gift and open the box, finding an incredibly gorgeous necklace. Specifically the one you had wanted for the longest time.
“Jacob, this is beautiful thank you!” You immediately wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tight.
“Only the best for my girl.” He whispers in your ear before pulling away to give you a kiss on the lips.
“Oh, almost forgot. I have one more gift for you.” He grins.
“One more? But the necklace is more than enough- ah!” You yelp in surprise as Jacob suddenly tackles you down, his body hovering above you as you look at him with widened eyes.
“This is my gift, twenty-two kisses for the twenty-two years you have been born on this earth.” Jacob leans down, the tip of his nose touching yours before giving you a peck on the lips.
“One.” He pecks your lips. “Two.” and again, “Three.” You’re both smiling and giggling like lovesick fools with every kiss he counts. But by the eleventh kiss, his small little pecks start to turn into deeper and longer ones.
Jacob adjusts himself between your legs, pulling you closer by the waist as his hands start to roam beneath your shirt. His warm hands caressing the sides of your body so carefully. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer for another kiss. You surprise him by cheekily slipping your tongue between his lips, making him whimper into your mouth.
He opens his mouth instantly, his tongue slowly intertwining with yours while each passing kiss becomes hot and heavy. You can feel him slowly melt into you, his body pressing against yours during this heated make out. You feel him getting hard against your core, slowly rolling his hips into you as he groans from the friction.
Jacob feels like he's on cloud-nine right now. He can’t recall any make out with you being this hot. And the way he could lightly smell the shampoo on your head and taste the sweet candy you just ate in your mouth? He could go on forever, breathing be damned. But before he could even take it a step further and run his hands beneath your pajama pants, you pull away from his lips.
“Why’d you stop?” He whines as you take note of his half-lidded eyes and cheeks all flushed out.
“That was twenty-two kisses Cob.” You laugh.
“No it wasn’t! We were still on the ninth.” Clearly, he was enjoying this gift he had given you.
You giggle and pull him down to give him a kiss. “Hm, don’t you think we should be getting to your next gift for me?” You look up at him teasingly.
“What gift? Oh- oh my god…” Jacob moans as you lift your hips to press your core against his bulge. “Yea-yeah I definitely have a gift for you right there.” He stutters, his breathing starting to become irregular.
And without warning, you manage to flip the two of you around, straddling his lap as he looks up at you with blown out lustful eyes. You lean down to kiss the space below his earlobe, making him groan in pleasure once again as his manhood twitches beneath you. You kiss it one more time before slowly whispering in his ear,
“Good, because I'd really like to play with my gift now. Want to join?”
#deoboyznet#jacob bae#jacob bae smut#tbz smut#tbz fics#tbz scenarios#tbz hard hours#the boyz drabbles#the boyz hard hours#the boyz scenarios#the boyz fic#the boyz smut#kpop smut#Jacob bae scenarios#the boyz fanfic
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🎨? hi!! how are you? I love your mobile theme <3 it's so pretty!! I haven't watched sxf but I will!! (I'm slow with my watchlist XD) hope you have a good day!
heya itz my darling!! i'm doing alright, just suffering a bit by allergies yaayy lolol but except that i'm good ^^ hbu hon? hope everything is going well <33333 *hugs* awww thanks a lot sweetie!! happy you like it :D and yes!! you must watch it, it's simply awesome and funny haha XD but take your time itz!! <333 i'm really happy to see you making content of vanitas no carte OWO YAAAYYY!!!
and talking about same anime i LOOOOOOOOOVE this gifset you've made of vanitas and noé!! it's so freaking gorgeous and the dedication???? WOAH!! it's mind blowing!! the gradient of the colors and their scenes for each elemental color, it's spectacular!! their lil interactions together with their bigger and remarkable ones it's really pretty well made and though!! i was in awe when i saw this edit itz! it's brilliant!! and the other giset i really am in love with this one of bakugou! :D i adore the main image fading for the his gif scenes, it's really cool and it fits him so good!! we can see his various moments of that fight with all might episode! it was so intense but so good!! super duper awesome itz!! i always love the way you edit and the concepts you create!! please bring more!! i'm always excited to see more <333333 stay well cutie!! ilysm!! <333333 *hugs*
DON'T SEND MORE PLEASE THANK YOU! :)
#reply#ask meme#friends#queenrojpag#again so sorry for the late reply itz!#i feel asleep and the medication for my allergies isn't helping lolol#wish you the best hon!!
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˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―
― day six ⛧ degradation
Sub!Jonathan Crane x Dom!Reader
Jonathan is starting to think he's on his high horse too much. He smarts off at you, making a big mistake. You take advantage of degrading and belittling Jonathan, and his ego is brought down to shallow depths.
warnings: smut, degradation, spitting, finger sucking, insults, dom/sub, sex toys, anal sex, anal fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), face-riding, cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, touchless orgasm
word count: 2208
author's note: yayaayay day six!! I love writing sub men especially sub jonathan ugh. please. my weakness. anyway, I hope everyone enjoys (; remember to read the warnings carefully before proceeding. (:
kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form
Jonathan has noticed that lately, he’s been a little snarky and bitchy- more than usual, anyway. He was bratty by nature, but he’s had an ego boost since snagging you. You’re perfect to him, and the fact he has someone as unique as you really gets him going. But it’s starting to exhaust him and cause issues at work, especially with colleagues. And the situation with this Rachel Dawes girl. Jonathan is sure he sent her to her death at the hands of Falcone and realizes that maybe his ego needs to be deflated. Especially if he feels challenged by a 20-something-year-old woman. Being in his thirties, Jonathan clearly knew better, especially as a professional. He brainstorms all day at the asylum, thinking of how to calm himself down and make his ego bruised to bring him down a notch. But he hits a wall, unable to come up with anything worth his time.
When Jonathan gets home, he’s frustrated with himself. He usually has great ideas, especially when it comes to degrading others and making them scared. But he can’t seem to come up with anything for himself. He grumbles as he hangs up his coat, tossing his keys into the dish by the door. He spots you curled up on the couch, reading a book. Jonathan notices the dishes you've yet to do in the sink from last night, and he rolls his eyes.
“I thought you were going to do the dishes today,” he frowns at you.
“Sorry, hon. I got invested in this book and haven’t thought about them,” you say sheepishly, “I’ll pop the dishes in the dishwasher after dinner tonight, okay?”
Jonathan doesn’t say anything and instead sits on the couch on the opposite end of you, flipping open his own book. You stare at him momentarily, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, you clear your throat and resume reading. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, you finally sigh.
“Are you okay, Jonathan?”
“I am perfectly fine, dear,” he replies exasperatedly, with a hint of sarcasm.
You purse your lips, becoming slightly impatient with him.
“You don’t seem fine, but alright.”
Jonathan looks over at you with a sassy look on his face before he turns back to his book. You raise an eyebrow.
“Did I do something to piss you off, mister brat?” you ask snarkily, closing your book and crossing your arms.
“Of course not,” Jonathan says, more sarcastic this time.
You huff, snatching his book from his hands and slamming it onto the coffee table.
“Watch your attitude,” you say blatantly.
“Or what?” Jonathan scoffs, yanking his book back with an attitude in his movements, “You won’t do anything.”
“Says who?” you chuckle darkly, crawling onto Jonathan’s lap and straddling his hips.
“Says me,” Jonathan gives you a closed-lip smile, “Now hop off. I’m trying to read.”
You scoff, tossing his book on the side of the couch where you were previously sitting, “How about you lose your attitude?”
“Or what?” Jonathan asks sassily, tilting his head.
You reach a hand up and grip his throat, your thumb and fingers pressing into the sides of his neck as you lean close to his face, “Or I’ll fucking make you.”
Jonathan gulps, unsure of how to react. You’ve never taken control before. You have a dominant side to your personality, but you’ve never dominated him sexually. Maybe Jonathan being dominated would knock him down a peg?
“Oh really?” Jonathan breathes, “You won’t.”
You growl, shoving two fingers from your other hand into his mouth, squeezing his neck a little harsher to prove your point, “Shut up, little boy. You’re nothing but a brat, you know that?”
Jonathan says nothing and willingly takes your fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking around them with doe eyes. You thrust your fingers in and out of his mouth, glaring at him as he hollows his cheeks, the sound of him suckling your digits a delight to your ears.
“Now, be a good boy and lay on the couch, then take off your pants and underwear. I’ll be right back. Don’t touch yourself,” you threaten, climbing off Jonathan’s lap.
Jonathan nods, scrambling to lie on the couch, moving his book. You hurry upstairs to grab something and return to the living room. Jonathan is lying on the sofa, his legs spread to reveal his hardened cock and his plump balls to you. You smirk as you put your toy on the coffee table, Jonathan’s eyes widening a little at the item. You resume your place on his lap, opting to sit on his bare, milky thighs. You give his cock a few pumps, spreading the leaking precum around his tip.
“So worked up from just me shutting you up, huh?”
“Sure, we’ll go with that,” Jonathan gives you a closed-lip smile, and you lightly slap him across the face.
“Don’t be rude,” you scold, “Or I won’t touch you at all.”
“No,” Jonathan says quickly, “Please touch me.”
“Why should I? What do you have to gain from it, hmm?” you slow your pace of moving your hand along his shaft.
“Because I’ve been bad,” Jonathan says bashfully.
“You’ve been a little bitch is what you’ve been,” you chuckle, “And little bitches get fucked until they learn their lesson.”
Jonathan gulps as you reach for your vibrator and sit it beside you, planning on using it later. You trace Jonathan’s face with a light finger before moving it to his lips, prodding them open to put your fingers back inside his mouth.
“Suck. And get as much spit on them as you can,” you demand, pumping Jonathan’s cock faster with your hand tight around his length.
Jonathan nods vigorously, lapping his tongue around your digits and coating them with his spit. But it’s not enough.
“Open your mouth,” you say, removing your fingers.
Jonathan obeys, and you gather your own spit in your mouth before you spit it onto Jonathan’s tongue. He twitches in surprise but graciously accepts your saliva before you shove your hand back to his lips, letting him cover it in your added spit.
“Good boy,” you whisper in awe at the sight of him closing his eyes as he bobs his head along your fingers.
You climb off his legs, shimmy off your shorts and underwear, and sit back down on his pelvis. Nudging one of Jonathan’s legs off the couch, you push his leg up and outward, “Grab your thigh, Jonny. And hold it open for me, okay?”
Jonathan follows your instructions, and you rub your clit to make yourself a little wetter in order to take him without a hitch. You grab his length and guide it into you as you lift your hips, moving them to suck him in to the hilt. You moan at the feeling of Jonathan filling you up, and you start riding him slowly. Spit still on your fingers, you circle Jonathan’s entrance slowly and daringly, turning around to gauge his reaction. His eyes are fluttered shut, his mouth agape as he breathes heavily. You circle his puckered hole faster, teasing it with the tip of your finger. Gently, you coax his asshole open with your index finger, pushing it in very slowly. Jonathan whimpers from behind you as you continue to slowly bounce on his cock. With your free hand, you massage his balls as your finger sinks deeper inside him. He squirms slightly, letting himself clench around your finger.
“Taking my finger like such a good boy,” you praise, “Can you take another?”
Jonathan mewls, “Give me a second,” he gasps as you hook your finger slightly.
“Take your time,” you say sweetly, stretching him softly with your digit, pushing it in and out of him.
Jonathan moans as you fuck him harder with your soaked cunt, slowly entering another spit-coated finger into his tight ass. You manage to push it all the way in after a few moments, Jonathan a mess underneath you as his hips stutter.
“So good,” you say, pussy clenching at the sight of Jonathan taking your fingers so well, “Finally shut you up, hmm?”
Jonathan moans in response, and you slowly hook your fingers inside him, scissoring your digits apart to stretch him out. Your boyfriend whines under you, his cock twitching pitifully inside your cunt. Grabbing the vibrator from next to you, you stick it in your mouth and suck it, letting your saliva coat it graciously. Pulling your fingers from Jonathan, he cries out from the lack of fullness. But you’re quick to press the toy against his hole, pushing it in slowly.
“Fuck,” Jonathan moans pornographically, and you push it further inside until it hits his prostate.
You fuck him with it gently, letting him get used to it before turning the vibrator on. Jonathan yelps, his hips bucking into you harshly. Rocking your hips at a quicker pace, the sensation of the vibrator filling him up, as well as you fucking yourself on his cock, sends Jonathan reeling. He’s an absolute mess beneath you, wishing he had kept his sassy mouth shut because of the overwhelming feeling of pleasure. But also, Jonathan doesn’t regret the dramatic death of his ego right now. In fact, he’s relishing it.
“How does it feel to be fucked by me?” you ask, breathless as you watch the vibrator go in and out of Jonathan’s tight hole, “To be humiliated and used like a little slut?”
“S’ good,” Jonathan manages to make out, bearing his hips down on the toy as you fuck him with it with vigor.
You turn up the vibration setting two notches, and Jonathan twitches inside you, cumming hard and suddenly. His cum paints your puffy walls, filling you up. You turn off the vibrator and remove it from Jonathan, and he groans at the loss.
“Bad, bad, bad,” you shake your head, tutting at your boyfriend, “I didn’t say you could cum.”
“I’m sorry,” Jonathan says quietly, tears pricking his eyes from the intense orgasm and the shame of cumming so soon.
“Now, you get the pleasure of me riding your face until I cum. Since I didn’t get to cum around your poor little cock,” you mockingly pout, pulling yourself off him and watching Jonathan’s cum weep from your pussy, “You’re gonna eat your own cum and like it. How does that sound?”
Jonathan wordlessly nods, unable to form a coherent thought in his head at the moment.
“Use your words, Jonny.”
“S-sounds good,” he says meekly.
You slide upward to rest your cunt on Jonathan’s face, and he immediately attaches his mouth to it, lapping up the mixture of your arousal and his cum with his tongue. He circles your clit, suckling on it as you let out a soft moan. You buck your hips to establish a rhythm with Jonathan’s tongue as he fucks it inside you. Jonathan starts to grow hard once more, and you watch as his length becomes slowly erect against his stomach.
“Aw, is Jonny getting hard just from eating pussy? How cute,” you coo, “I bet you’re gonna cum all over yourself like the pitiful thing you are.”
Jonathan moans into you as a bead of precum leaks from his tip. You ride his face faster as the familiar warmth of pleasure spreads throughout your belly. You grasp your breasts, tweaking your nipples as your boyfriend skillfully nibbles your bundle of nerves.
“Just like that, fuck,” you praise, tugging hard at your sensitive buds as your orgasm creeps on you, “Gonna make me cum after all, baby.”
Jonathan hums, the vibration sending you over the edge. You cum all over his face and tongue, and to your surprise, Jonathan’s cock spurts its own hot white load all over his stomach and chest.
“I can't believe you just cum without me even touching you,” you chuckle, “How pathetic.”
You lean over and lick up his mess, playfully licking and biting his hardened nipples before dismounting his face. You take a deep breath before gathering the toy and telling Jonathan you’ll return in a second. When you return to the living room, Jonathan still lies haphazardly on the couch.
“Are you okay?” you ask, picking up your underwear and sliding them back on.
“Yeah,” Jonathan sighs, “I needed that.”
“I can tell,” you smirk, “You’ve been a dick lately.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, “I was thinking about it earlier and couldn’t come up with a solution to bring me back to earth. But it seems you came up with a solution on your own.”
“Sure did. Been thinking about doing this for a while anyway.”
“I didn’t know you were into being dominant,” Jonathan raises his eyebrows, and you offer him his underwear to put back on.
“It’s not something I do a lot, but yeah. I think it’s hot,” you grin, sitting on his lap.
Jonathan exhales through his nose, studying your face. He smiles briefly before stroking your cheek, “How about we take a bath and go to bed, hmm?”
“Sounds good,” you say, “Gotta get your bitchy self all clean.”
Jonathan snorts at that. Dinner and the dishes are long forgotten, and a nice, warm bath is drawn.
taglist:
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#jonathan crane#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane x reader smut#jonathan crane x you#jonathan crane x you smut#jonathan crane x y/n#jonathan crane x y/n smut#jonathan crane imagine#jonathan crane one shot#kinktober#floralcyanide's kinktober#floralcyanide's kinktober 2023#kinktober 2023#floralcyanide kinktober#floralcyanide kinktober 2023#floralcyanide writes#batman begins#the scarecrow#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut
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Lover | Patrick Wilson x Fem!reader
(SEQUEL)
previous part click here CHAPTER 1 // CHAPTER 2
Summary : You and Patrick had a one night stand a few months ago. And now you’re 6 months pregnant. You don't expect to meet the father of your child because you’re a woman who prefers to be alone. But fate said otherwise, you meet again with the father who made your stomach grow big.
And you stupidly didn’t know that he was an actor.
Warning : smut, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, p in v sex, breeding kink.
It's been 6 weeks since the birth of your twins. Of course Patrick which the father of your baby…has his responsibility, not only focusing his attention on your babies but also he takes care of you.
He took a full 1 month off work after you gave birth. You feel safe with him, in his house in New Jersey. You decided to stay with Patrick because you realized that taking care of two twins born in your own womb was more difficult than taking care of your uncle’s baby twins.
Your belly started to shrink, but not completely. You don’t really care about your appearance, all you think about is your children. In the last 2 weeks, Patrick has started shooting for the Conjuring 4 film project.
You don’t blame him for that. Patrick was actually worried about leaving you alone to work, but you tried to convince Patrick that you were fine and you could take care of your children at home. Although sometimes Patrick likes to come home late at night, even coming home the next morning.
You try to understand and don’t want to burden him. After all, you are both just dating, not yet a married couple.
That night, as usual, Patrick came home late. You are just overwhelmed with taking care of your two babies who have difficulty sleeping and keep crying. but exactly at 11 o'clock they were fast asleep. and a few minutes later Patrick knocked on the door and you found him looking very tired.
“How’s the twins, hon?” Patrick asked then he walked towards the baby box and saw that your babies were fall asleep.
“It’s good that you see them when they’re calm and sleepy, not when they crying loudly.” You said and then Patrick kissed your forehead softly.
You quickly made him some tea as he sat on the sofa.
“Very tiring day, huh?” Patrick muttered then started to turn on the TV which displayed the latest news. “You must be very tired looking after our twins. I’m sorry, I wasn't here just now...”
“Patrick...” you replied, handing him the still warm cup of tea and sitting next to him, “you’re also tired from work and I would understand that.” You unbuttoned the top of Patrick's shirt so that Patrick wouldn't get hot.
“Would you still understand if I was forced to act in a romantic scene and kiss the lips of someone else?”said Patrick while lowering his head. You can see how frustrated he is.
You held his hand, “Patrick... you are a professional actor, that is your job. I don’t have a problem with that as long as you can keep your heart for me.”
“That’s not it,” said Patrick, looking straight into your eyes, “I feel I’m no longer be professional for doing that scene. The director said that I no longer have chemistry with Vera on screen. That’s a bad thing.
“...the kiss scene was re-recorded continuously because I couldn’t do it well. Even though the genre of the film is Horror, I couldn't do it.”
“Why?” a stupid word somehow comes out of your mouth even though you already know the answer.
“I’m getting more and more crazy about you,” said Patrick honestly. He looked at you with a pitiful face, “I’m too pushy to work even though I still want with you here. I...”
Patrick touched your cheek and rubbed it, “I love you.” a sentence that he had never said in a long time and finally said it.
You froze. You don’t know how to react. When you started to open your mouth, Patrick continued, “I really love you. I want to quickly finish the last film in the Conjuring trilogy so I can...”
Patrick stopped. He felt his mouth pulling him to say the next sentence. You raised an eyebrow, “so you can what?”
“So that I can,” Patrick mumbled, his voice getting deeper, his eyes darkening, “I can marry you, have all of you.”
You felt his lips meet yours. He kissed you gently then over time his kisses got hotter and Patrick’s mouth became more aggressive.
Patrick carried your body towards your bedroom. He kissed your lips then laid you down on the bed. You felt his soft hands slowly open your nightgown to admire every inch of your body.
“You’re so beautiful, hon,” Patrick couldn’t stop kissing your body. He kissed your belly, a belly that has given birth to his baby twins. He kissed your chest, then your nipples, he moved up to kiss your collarbone.
He inhales the scent of your musk perfume and you feel his breath rising and falling around your neck, “I've been waiting for this for a long time...” his left hand holds and squeezes your butt, while his right hand grabs your leg to move your body position.
He took off your panties slowly. You can feel one of his fingers on your clit and he rubs it. You’re moaning. And then Patrick starts to insert his two hands into your cunt while his thumb now takes over rubbing your clit.
He starts playing with his finger which controls your cunt. Your cunt is so wet, it soaks your sheets. You continued to moan, then you felt his tongue now rubbing your clit with fast movements. You moan louder as his tongue begins to lick your cunt deliciously.
“Patrick…” you said in a low voice. You couldn’t stop moaning because his tongue was moving faster and faster in your cunt, “Patrick, please...”
Patrick stopped, and he saw that your cunt had soaked almost half of your sheets. Patrick started to open the buckle and then the button of his trousers roughly, and he was now kissing your neck hungrily.
You groaned in pain as he started biting your neck. Both of your hands are now trying to unbutton Patrick’s shirt as his big hard cock now enters your wet cunt.
You can see Patrick’s perfect six pack body in front of you now. Patrick hugged your body, while speed up his fucking movements.
“I will fill your belly with my baby again,” said Patrick in a rough and deep voice. His blue eyes getting darker, looking at you with a look of hunger and lust, “I will make you suffer again because you have to carry my baby for 9 months.”
You shed tears because you felt his huge cock going in and out of your vagina with increasingly fast movements. You felt his breathing getting faster and rougher in your ear, “you understand that, hon? I will give you my baby again in your stomach.”
You nodded slowly. And then he smiled and kissed your lips, “good girl,”
Then he turns your body around, and now the position is doggy style. He inserts his hard cock into your cunt. He’s now riding you while both of your hands are held by him.
You moaned louder, then you felt his lips kiss the back of your neck gently, then slowly you felt his hand strangle your neck.
“Patrick...”you moaned in a low voice, his penis going in and out of your vagina from behind, “Patrick, I want to cum.”
Patrick’s hands squeezed your butt and hit it, “Wait, hon.”
He squeezed your ass, speeding up his movements making you even more overwhelmed and you groaning in pain but it was all worth it after you both cum together. He’s really cum in your wet cunt.
You’re both tired. Patrick takes out his cock then you can see his sperm is still spilling even though he has put it inside.
He laid his body and yours at the same time. He hugged you warmly from behind while both of your bodies were covered by the blanket now.
“That was amazing,” you said.
Patrick kissed your neck gently and tightened his embrace, “I love you, hon, I really love you.”
You smiled, “I love you too...” then you both drifted off to sleep in a sparkling night.
—
#fanfics#patrick wilson#patrick wilson x reader#patrick wilson fanfics#patrick wilson x female reader#patrick wilson x fem!reader#patrick wilson x you#patrick wilson smut#orm marius#aquaman and the lost kingdom#josh lambert
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babymaking with predaking woooo‼️‼️
nsfw!!
Yall another part to this is locked n loaded so just let me know if i should continue it lmao
Predaking had been acting very odd as of late. It wasnt exactly unpleasant, just strange. He was much more possessive, way more touchy with you, especially your stomach, and he was in the nest more often than not. His loud snoring echoed throughout your shared cave, it was charming in a way, when you weren’t the one sleeping beside him every night.
You carefully stepped into the soft nest he had created just for the two of you. After abandoning the Nemesis, Predaking wasted no time finding a home for the two of you to take refuge in.
Once you were fully in the nest you would lie down beside him, spooning him, or atleast attempting to; the size difference being humorous.
Carefully, you wrapped your servos and pedes around his large, surprisingly tense frame. His intakes hitching almost instantly at this, almost flinching. You were surprised at this, as he was usually a very deep sleeper.
“Apologies, my king, did I wake you?” You questioned with a sympathetic tone.
“..indeed.” He gruffly replied.
“Sorry.”
He pushes himself up from the comfy warmth of the nest, turning to face you, his optics practically glowed in the dark depths of he cave. “It’s forgiven, my Conjunx. Do not fret.” He grumbled, resting his servos on your waist, and pulling you in closer; he was very…warm. In return you would nod with a soft smile. His chassis deeply rumbled against you.
“I take it you slept well, yeah?” You questioned, lightly tracing his sharp, spiky frame.
He again would flinch at your affectionate touches, this of course being concerning for you. You hesitated before eventually speaking up on his strange behavior.
“Predaking, are you…well?” You questioned.
His glowing orange optics widened at this, staring deep into yours. He only continued to shake.
“Predaking..?”
You asked for the second time, this time reaching to rest a servo on his faceplate, softly caressing, you gasped and instinctively yanked your hand away…he was burning hot.
You quickly regained your composure before exclaiming, “Predaking, you are on fire..! Are you ill?”
His dilated optics were trained on you, watching your every movement, he seemed almost in a trance. Once he snapped out of it, he quickly responded. “No, no! I am, healthy…i am..just…”
He took a deep, shaky intake before continuing, yet he sounded almost…in pain. “I am…am simply-“ He deeply gasped, his frame going ridged. “Frag, frag frag..!”
A heavy, hot pang of need traveled through him, it was irresistible, he couldn’t keep his composure.
He whimpered out, his grip on your waist tightening. “I need you. I..I must. It has been much too long-!” Your optics widen at his words. “Predaking, what are you talking about?” He suddenly mounted you, sitting between your thighs; making you gasp.
“A heir.” He growled. You felt energon rush to your faceplates. “Wh-what?! King, what has gotten into you?” He leans down, a predatory gaze locked onto you as he positions his mandibles right beside your audial.
“Who am i, Predaking, to deny my programming, my instincts, and us; of a heir?” He questions.
“Oh…” You would understandingly reply. It makes sense now, his unusual behavior, it was his heat, his natural instinct to reproduce. He deeply sighs.
“Though, i would never go against my mate’s wishes. I beg, will you please, allow me the honor of sparking you?”
Lust fogged his processor, he continued, though barely audible.
“My mate…such a beautiful family we could have, cant you imagine..?”
He propped your helm up with a sharp digit, making you look into his gorgeous, glowing orange optics; love-filled, yet desperate.
“Please.” He begged
You gasped as soft thrusts could be felt against your modesty panel, causing your pedes to be pushed farther apart, and Predakings labored pants clouding your mind. Your spark was pounding, it was all so sudden…
“Of..of course, Predaking. I would be honored to.” You whispered.
He purred in delight, lightly rubbing his helm against yours; “Yes, yes…thank you, my mate.” He lightly smiles, his half lidded optics staring deep into yours.
“I can assure you, you will not be disappointed, my dearest.”
He presses his helm against yours, grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer, positioning him perfectly against your sensitive plating. He was drooling at this point, completely drunk on the euphoric idea of filling you completely, until he is all you can think of. Resting a heavy, caring servo against your tanks he continues to stare down at your sprawled out figure.
“I’m so eager, so very eager to fill you so impossibly deep, to knot you, my queen/king, until you can barely speak, we are going to make such lovely sparklings together..I cannot wait to see you carry my brood…”
#valveplug#transformers x reader#tfp predaking#predaking x reader#this is so cringe omg#Part 2?#IM SO SORRY#transformers#HEELP#HELP MEE
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Hi there!
I saw that your requests are open :D
May I ask for hcs or a little scenario, if you wish, of how Swiss and Mountain would react to seeing reader (he/they pronouns, if possible) up really really late because of nightmares and insomnia? I’m thinking about fluff and platonic relationships! (Cuddles? Little kisses? Yes please)
Thank you so much for your time and for your writing! writing! 🖤
❝kiss the nightmares away❞
➵ “i’ll be your little sunshine.” —❤︎
pairing: swiss and mountain x male!reader (he/they)
theme: fluff ✿
a/n: first of all, i hope you’re doing well hon, i hope this fic can soothe some potential nerves you have there <3 i hope this fic met your standards. and tbh it can be read as platonic or romantic so i didn’t use the platonic tag
cw: insomnia sucks, that’s really it. swiss and mountain are very caring for the reader here
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his head hurt so much.
normally, the insomnia never got this bad— but tonight was a particularly shitty night. not only was his day at the ministry rather rough, but y/n had just experienced a chilling nightmare that still sent shivers down his spine— which only worsened the effects of their sleep condition.
it was anything but pleasant, but he hates to say that this wasn’t the first time this has happened.
insomnia was a bitch, but they have grown accustomed to dealing with it on their own— even if it sucked.
sighing heavily, y/n’s feet carried him through the ministry halls and into the kitchen, in hopes to find a snack that’ll soothe his mind and hopefully calm his nerves down.
the fridge door swung open and y/n grabbed the nearest thing on the shelf, not even bothering to look at what he had just grabbed— or the label for that matter.
just as y/n was about to open whatever container he snagged— the sound of someone clearing their throat made y/n whip his head around to find the source of the sound.
“you know you’re holding a jar of mayonnaise, right, sweetie?”
confused, y/n turned his head to the entrance of the kitchen, and was met with a familiar multi ghoul leaning against the door frame. swiss, with his arms crossed, looked at them in an almost amused manner.
y/n looked down at his hands to see that he was indeed, holding a jar of mayonnaise. he didn’t even notice, he was probably way too tired to even function. sighing heavily, he opened the fridge and put it back inside.
“sorry, i didn’t notice.” y/n responded, looking downcast to avoid swiss’ gaze
“i can tell.” swiss replied back with a cheeky tone, before he made his way over to y/n. he could already tell something was up.
“so what are you doing up so late?” swiss asked, his tone of voice shifting into a more caring one. y/n didn’t respond, his silence was already a good enough answer for swiss, and the multi ghoul sighed.
“that bad, huh?”
“it’s always bad, swiss. but tonight has just really fucked me over.”
swiss let out another heavy breath of concern, and brought his large, clawed hand to gently rub y/n’s back— who was currently hunched over the kitchen island, head bent down. it was the most he could do to comfort the poor boy.
at that moment, heavy, but gentle footsteps, made their way into the kitchen, causing both y/n and swiss to look over at the kitchen.
it was mountain. he must’ve heard one of them come down to the kitchen. tilting his head in confusion, he turned to swiss.
“what’s going on?” the earth ghoul asked, almost innocently.
“insomnia is kicking y/n’s ass again.” swiss replied back, his tail flicking a bit as he spoke. he then went back to rubbing y/n’s back.
“damn right it is.” y/n groaned out, his forehead resting against the table as he just let swiss rub his back.
mountain just let out an ‘ah’ at Swiss’ answer. he felt bad for the poor boy, he knew how bad insomnia could get at times. all he knew now was that y/n needed some comfort.
the drummer turned to look at the vocalist, and the two exchanged a knowing look before nodding at each other. at that moment, the earth ghoul scooped up y/n in his strong arms, cradling him like a baby— which made them yelp from the sudden change.
“what the—!? hey what are you guys doing??” y/n asked almost suspiciously, wondering what in hell these two ghouls had in mind.
“what do you think, honey?” swiss said from behind mountain, peeking over the earth ghoul’s shoulder to look at y/n. “we’re going to help you.”
it wasn’t long until the trio reached mountain’s room. y/n breathed in the fresh aroma of healing herbs and fresh water, must’ve been from the decorative plants in mountain’s room.
being the gentle giant he was, mountain carefully placed y/n on the center of his queen sized bed, and it wasn’t long until the two ghouls were all over y/n.
swiss was cuddled up on the right side of y/n’s body, his head buried under the curve of their neck, while his arms proceeded to wrap around y/n’s waist and his legs tangled in the other’s. mountain then moved to y/n’s left side, his chest pressing against the smaller boy’s back softly while he draped his long arms over y/n’s and swiss’ bodies to move them closer to him. the earth ghoul’s tail was also wrapped around y/N’s leg affectionately.
the position was… oddly comfortable, and it was quite serene too. it put y/n’s mind at ease, and his muscles visible relaxed after being stiff for so long. both swiss and mountain took notice of this, and started to purr lovingly— the vibrations of their purrs only serving to further heal y/n.
“this is nice…” y/n muttered out softly, to which swiss chuckled slightly.
“told ya we’d help, pretty boy.” swiss teased back slightly, making y/n only rolled his eyes at him.
“oh shut up.” they retorted, eliciting a chuckle from mountain, who rested his chin on top of y/n’s head.
“alright, simmer down you two. i think we all need to sleep. especially you, y/n.” mountain said with a more firm, but soft tone, making both swiss and y/n nod.
swiss couldn’t resist, but he pressed a soft kiss onto y/n’s cheek to help comfort him, which in turn made them giggle from the ticklish feeling. mountain let out another chuckle and placed a kiss on top of y/n’s head, purring softly right after.
y/n definitely wasn’t expecting his night to go like this. being pulled into a cuddle pile with the flirty multi ghoul, swiss— and the sweet and gentle earth ghoul, mountain.
his insomnia was definitely bad.
but these two ghoul’s provided enough comfort for him to make him feel safe.
and that feeling was enough to allow his mind drift off into a dreamless, but peaceful sleep, appreciating the warmth of another’s arms.
#ghost bc#ghost fanfiction#nameless ghoul x reader#nameless ghouls#the band ghost#fluffy#fluff fanfic#nameless ghoul fanfic#swiss ghoul#swiss x reader#mountain x reader#mountain ghoul#swiss x male reader#mountain x male reader#male reader#platonic#swiss army ghoul#kosmos ficlets
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