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chronically-ghosted · 24 days ago

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i'm empty without you, so come grow within me

AO3 Link | main masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

rating: explicit (18+)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 9K

summary: with winter approaching, joel takes stock of what he wants and what he has in his life. he wants you, but he's not quite sure he has you, not in a way that only a life in Jackson can afford. joel's an old-fashioned guy, so he's looking for an old-fashioned love . . . if he can only remember how to do it right.

inspired by the songs 'why don't we just dance' by Josh Turner and 'the kind of love we make' by Luke Combs, this fulfills a request from @handsomehelmet for my 1k celebration (creativity struck and now i'm going to make it everyone's problem)

warnings: the nastiest thing i can possibly imagine which is romance and sincerity, some willie nelson lyrics, established situationship, no age of reader specified, body insecurity, feelings of unworthiness/shame, survivor's guilt, blatant disregard for old man knees by eating pussy on the floor, unprotected piv, a teenager bullying fully grown adult to quit being stupid.

a/n: i know everyone gets into a tizzy when Joel doesn’t name what Tess is to him in front of Bill and while there probably was a heaping amount of guilt that accompanied that omission, i wonder if it might be a bit more complicated: he simply couldn’t name one thing because she was all things to him. A friend, a lover, a guide, a support system, a protector, a partner. So he says it the best way he can: “she’s mine.”

come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers

By the fourth bag, all you can think about is a warm shower.

A chance to scrub away the dirt smeared on your arms, your neck, probably your face. You’d brought your own work gloves to bag fresh dirt for the greenhouse, but the longer you work, more sprinkles of dirt find their way down the lip of your gloves. You can feel it against your palms, under your nails. The cold winter air lurks beneath the crack of the door, stifled from invading by the artificial heat provided by the generator just outside, and it stifles you too with its oppressive weight. You’re fairly sure the dirt on your forehead has turned to mud, sweat and damp earth encrusted on your dry skin.

By the sixth, you doubt your shoulders will ever move again without popping.

You know Joel’s already do.

Never a particularly chatty man even in his best moods, the greenhouse had become stuffy with heat and silence, both you and Joel too lost in the work to find the energy to even fake idle chatter. But, knowing this about Joel and a certain degree yourself, silences with him were never a bad thing. That was one of the things you enjoyed most about being with him; you two could do your own things together. Many snowy days were spent with him stretched out on the couch, reading, and you working on writing your sheet music on the floor, his knee hovering over your shoulder with your back to the cushions – spent in total silence, and they are some of the fondest memories you had since coming to Jackson and falling into the third and final piece of the Miller-Williams household.

Like with the end of the world, you weren’t sure how you got there until everything had fallen into place around you; Joel and his adoptive daughter had been just another group who were taken in by the town of Jackson . . . until they weren’t. Ellie was just another foul-mouthed kid who had seen too much and had too much taken from her . . . until she wasn’t. Joel was your occasional patrol partner and a fellow Willie Nelson fan. . . until he wasn’t.

Until that unmistakable line, one that seemed to be lost on a global scale beneath the blood and the gore and the grief, had been crossed when he asked you out for drinks and the both of you knew the evening wasn’t going to end in a nightcap.

And then you were partners, even outside of patrol. Partners in re-enforcing a weakened part of Jackson’s outer walls. Partners in cooking, attempting to recreate an enchilada recipe Joel only vaguely remembered from a Tex-Mex hole-in-the-wall fifteen minutes from where he used to live in Austin. Partners when it’s snowing heavily outside and there’s not much to do except to read and, well . . . Joel was a fantastic partner in that.

Joel Miller was a great partner for a lot of things. He worked diligently, quickly and, unless the conversation was started by someone else, silently.

He, in short, was not someone who was easily distracted.

Which, in combination with your own exhaustion and a desire to scrub the first layer of your skin off with a loofah, is why you feel a flare of annoyance when you look up and see him staring off into the distance. His fingers loosely grip the handle of the shovel, his palm resting over the curved point, Joel’s expression is nearly unreadable, except for the small crevice between his eyebrows. He stands, fixated on the greenhouse wall, as if watching the blurry Christmas lights from the town square, suddenly oblivious to the work you two have been doing for the past hour and a half.

“Joel.” Nothing. “Joel!”

You raise your hand to smack him on the leg when, without looking down, he asks:

“When was the last time I took you out?”

“What?”

His weight shifts, holds the shovel by one hand now. You catch a sliver of frustration in those deep brown eyes as he looks at you. He wears what you and Ellie secretly refer to as his “pouty-mouth”, a classic expression when he isn’t getting his way about something but won’t draw attention to the fact that it annoys him.

“Tell me about the last date I took you on.”

You huff, standing up with a pop in your hips. Your knees are aching from kneeling on the cold winter ground and your skin fluxes between overheating under your jacket and stiffly frozen on your extremities.

“Joel, c’mon, be serious. We’ve got three more –,”

“I am being serious.” Dumb-founded, you watch as he digs the tip of the shovel into the ground with a hollow chunk. Crosses his arms and continues to frown at you like you just suggested doing away with the Christmas holiday entirely. “We’ll get to this, but I want you to tell me right now what we did on our last date.”

You roll your eyes, humoring him. “Fine, I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but okay. On our last date, we . . . we did . . . you took me to . . .”

It’s your turn to frown. He raises a petulant eyebrow and it’s eerie how many times you’ve seen that exact expression on Ellie.

“Okay, fine, so it’s been a while. We’ve been busy – we’ve all been busy with the winter season coming. All of Jackson has been out battening down the hatches. What does it matter if we’ve let things slide a bit?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, quiet in his Joel way. He glances out through the blurred greenhouse glass and maybe he was actually staring at the string lights hung over Jackson’s square. Normally, you didn’t mind being unable to dissect his every expression, every sigh, every carefully wielded silence, but when it came to you and his feelings about you – feelings that were always implied in those silences �� you wished you had a little window, some hint, as to what rumbled on behind those earth-dark eyes.

Joel drums his fingers on the handle of the shovel, unease rolling through his body as he shifts his weight.

“Matters some,” he tells the ground. “With the holidays comin’ around . . . matters for Ellie – her first winter here in Jackson. Matters for Tommy, with that new baby of his . . .”

“Your nephew,” you supply as much as prod. Sometimes the only way to get an honest answer out of him was when he was just a bit pissed off and less guarded. Instead he just nods, gloved hand on his hip, thick jacket widening his already confounding broadness.

“It matters because it’s important. To me. It’s important to me.”

He meets your gaze and you’re struck full force again with that feeling like you drank too much of the Tipsy Bison’s shitty whiskey too fast. Same feeling that couldn’t be drowned even with the Tipsy Bison’s shitty whiskey when you shared a drink with him for the first time. When you managed to laugh when he bet you a whole day of stable cleaning duties that Willie Nelson and Chris Stapleton survived the apocalypse somewhere in a shack in Tennessee. Joel Miller was disarmingly funny when he wanted to be.

And even worse, disarmingly sincere.

You take his gloved hand in yours. You feel the sensation of his fingers threading through yours but not the heat you’ve grown so accustomed to.

“Alright, then. What do you want to do about it?” You ask quietly, to the upturned collar around his neck, his green flannel peeking out from behind the zipper of his jacket. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s a lot of snow on the ground so that makes our options for date night kinda limited.” You scrunch your nose at him because you like to see the light in his eyes bloom when you do.

He chuckles, a rumbling sound, and he drops his forehead against yours, fingers tightening their grip around yours. Suddenly in your throat, your heart pounds. He’s never this affectionate in public. Maybe it’s those miraculously blurred greenhouse glass walls.

His breath smells like that peppermint toothpaste that came in last week, infused with the warming-coil smell from the greenhouse.

“Dunno yet.” He admits. “I’ll think of somethin’.”

“No ideas yet?” You raise your eyebrows against his forehead and he grins, shaking his head.

“Not yet.”

“Then can I make a suggestion?”

“‘Course.”

“We finish bagging this dirt, then head home for a shower. In a really sexy way, obviously.”

He huffs, smothering a laugh, and quick as lightning he kisses you on the cheek. But in the same movement, steps away and grabs the shovel again. You don’t have time to react to the fact he just kissed you for the first time outside of the four walls of his house before he’s scooping up dirt. You drop to your knees to pick up the bag again, your legs already weak.

“We both know you’re going to pass out on the couch the second we’re home.”

Your voice is steadier than you feel, as you look up at him. His face is flushed and that worry line between his eyes is gone.

“You got me pegged, Miller. You got me pegged.”

Two days later, he stands in the middle of his living room, hands on his hips, surveying his handiwork. All of the furniture has been pushed to the far ends of the room, up against the walls or against the staircase out in the hallway. He’s kept the overhead lights off and put the standing lamps in the corners, bathing the room in a despondent glow. He thinks, after a quarter of a century never even entertaining something like this, it might be interpreted as romantic. He hopes you’ll see it that way at least.

He hears it now, in his head, even though she’s out in the disconnected garage, snug and warm as he could have possibly made it – you worry too much, old man.

Ellie knows there’s something going on between you two. Hell, the entire town has cottoned onto whatever this is; you’re often seen leaving his house early in the morning, and he’s been seen on occasion strolling up to your house with flowers. It’s not new, it’s not a secret, but it is . . . it just is and that’s about as far as he’s gotten.

He hasn’t had you over for dinner with Ellie in that very specific way that very much needs to happen, as it often does when there is a new presence added to an established dynamic – as Maria often reminds him. But that almost feels like presenting your head on a silver plate to Ellie to either sniff with disinterest or tear into – both terrifying scenarios, even though they seem unlikely. Ellie does in fact seem to like you very much, as her riding teacher and occasional greenhouse buddy. But would she continue to like you in the context of you being one half of “You and Him” as a pair? Together. As a couple . . . of people who are seeing each other, whatever that means in a world filled with the most aggressive form of fungus imaginable.

This life in Jackson, this fragile second chance to remember and rekindle his own natural instincts, is too precious to bet on a question like that.

So he doesn’t ask it. At least not out loud.

That’s one of the things he likes so much about you: his silences aren’t entirely indecipherable and often are encouraged by your own. Except this silence about this particular thing doesn’t feel like one of your shared, comfortable moments and instead it’s encroaching rapidly into avoidance.

Standing in that greenhouse and seeing the string lights over the town square reminded him of a long ago Christmas, dancing with his favorite person under a Christmas tree, and how good it made him feel. How special it made him feel. All these years later, safe in a way his body has almost forgotten, there’s an urge he has to share that feeling, to recreate it under entirely different circumstances, with someone new. Someone else. To not try and fight the smile that constantly threatens to buoy up every time he’s around you.

It’s foreign, that feeling in his chest, but it’s not entirely alien, at least not of late.

He knows he’s white-knuckling it because he knows firsthand how painfully quick it can all be gone. Taken away. Left and buried by a black river while the world burns.

But he’s worried he’ll crush it with how tightly he holds on. How hard he begs a silent universe for it to last just a little bit longer.

His knees ache, his left shoulder goes tight when it rains, his body is not what it once was, but his mind is still there, still clear, and he remembers how romance used to feel, where it used to reside in his younger body, and as he stares out at the cleared room, listening to your footsteps overhead as you attempt to follow his vague instructions to “make yourself feel pretty” (because you already were to him, even covered in dirt and sawdust), he thinks this feels like the old world. An old world romance. It’s foreign, that feeling, but for the first time in a long time he doesn’t want to hold it at arm’s length.

“Joel?” You call from the top of the stairs, your voice tentative and cautious. But not cautious like you peeking around a corner to look for clickers. But cautious as in unsure, doubtful. You are a woman made up of a lot of things, with foundations unlike he’d ever seen before, but doubt is not a part of you. You never doubt him.

“Yeah, baby?” Your nerves make him nervous and he futzes with a lampshade while waiting for you.

“Are you done down there?”

He has to breathe slowly through the fluttering beneath his breastbone before he can answer. “Yeah, baby, all finished. You can come down now.”

“Okay . . . but you can’t laugh.” Him, laugh at you? There’s the instinct to smother the faint grin that spreads out across his mouth, but he told himself he wasn’t going to fight whatever came across his face tonight. If you see it, then you see it and he’s come to accept that.

(Maybe even want that.)

He shakes his head, his only pair of nice boots (a thank you from a former rancher when Joel fixed his family’s heater) clicking on the hardwood floor as he stands at the bottom of the stairs. You must be hiding behind the wall because he can’t see you.

“I’m not gonna laugh, sweetheart. Why d’ya think I’d laugh?”

Silence faces him at the top of the stairs, and then:

“Because quite frankly I forgot my tits could look like this and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

The snort that comes out of him is a poor attempt to muffle the chuckle. He thumbs the wood finial at the top of the bannister.

“Can’t remember ever having any complaints before and I don’t think I’ll have ‘em now, no matter how they look.”

“Whatever, Miller, you’re just a horn dog.”

He rolls his eyes, fingers rubbing anxiously together at his side, as if he could tug the fluttering out of his chest. He leans on the other foot, the one with the bad knee, to adjust the slightly uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. A dark swirl in the second step of the stairs has become wildly interesting.

“Baby, just come down here. I’m not gonna laugh. Promise.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” you grumble, still out of sight. “I know where you keep your feral child and I will not hesitate to let her loose on you.”

Joel nods, grinning faintly, still focused resolutely on the whorl in the floor. “That’s a real big threat from someone who –,”

The words die in his throat.

In fact, he’s quite sure he won’t be capable of speech for a very long time.

That foreign feeling – that feeling he’s worked for twenty years to suppress – is ignited in his chest.

You walk, no, maybe you float down the stairs in the most stunning red dress he’s ever seen. It’s definitely not yours – he knows every inch of your closet because he had inspected it studiously when you offered to keep some of his clothes at your place and he was trying very hard to delay putting a handful of his belongings beside a woman’s things in a move that felt heart-stoppingly domestic.

No, he has never, ever seen you in this dress.

Come to think of it, he’s never seen you in any dress and you were entirely correct that your tits look wildly different. Fantastically different, but –

“Maria didn’t have any heels that fit me to go with the dress,” you announce airily, your chin up. But your eyes dart over his face as if looking for something you need to find. “But it’s fourteen degrees outside, Joel, and I’m not doing whatever this is in just socks because that’s ridiculous so you’re just going to have to deal with the boots.”

The Boots. The ones you wear while crushing clicker skulls and tending the stables. They still bear damp spots from where you tried to clean the blood and dirt from the leather.

It’s rather incapacitating how arousing he finds this particular combination.

So much so, he doesn’t realize he hasn’t said anything in a full minute until you bark at him, a cold tinge of panic in your voice.

“Joel!” His eyes snap to yours. Of course, you’re fucking beautiful – your eyes seem bigger, cheeks pinker, mouth wet – fucking Christ, where did you get make up?

“Say something!” Those rosy lips drop down and to his horror, you’re upset. “Please!”

“B-baby, you look . . .” He doesn’t mean to grab your entire ass in one hand; he just wants to feel as much of that velvet on your skin as possible. You stumble into his arms, another something that is so unlike you, as he tugs you forward. Bends his lips to your ear to discover how fast you’re breathing. How fast your pulse races in your neck. The shudder that breaks the rigidity of your body when he brushes his mouth, the short bristles of his beard, against your skin is no surprise; you told him exactly what that sensation does to you in no uncertain terms the first night he ate you out on the table of your kitchen. “You look incredible.”

Your fingers bite into his biceps. Push back out of his arms, despite the obvious warmth in your cheeks. You level his arousal in a single glare. “Joel, I asked you not to tease.”

Tommy once told him he was a pain in the ass to be around sometimes because he displays every negative emotion as anger and so it’s damn near impossible to figure out whatever it was he was so bent out of shape about.

Sadness as anger.

Shame as anger.

Guilt as anger.

Fear as anger.

With your fingers balled up, it's the tremor in your fists that gives you away.

He had genuinely intended this to be a quiet night away from the cafeteria, away from the Tipsy Bison, away from anyone else. He wanted you all to himself and in his greed, he didn’t see it until he saw it in your eyes.

How vulnerable being pretty made you. How vulnerable privacy made you.

How being vulnerable made you so deeply, deeply afraid.

Almost as afraid as he was.

Without a word, he turns to the record player, strategically hidden behind the couch and puts on the carefully selected record. The silent scratches for a moment before –

Your eyes widen as Nelson begins to sing his most beautiful love song (in Joel’s humble opinion). Your shoulders slacken, hands lose their grip, you blink up at him in total bewilderment. You aren’t an indecisive person, you’re quick as a whip, rarely confused – so this befuddled look on your face is kinda cute.

Tucking that rare look on your face away for another time, Joel wanders to the center of the room, in the heat of the light from the fireplace, his good boots clicking over the wood. He opens his arms, hand out to you.

“Let’s try something new tonight.”

I'll always be with you for as long as you please

For I am the forest but you are the trees

The decision you make is a visible one.

Your palm is warm, weighted as it slides over his. This time his hand respectably settles on your waist, then on your low back when (to his surprise) you come closer. He’s delighted to watch you smile at him, distantly aware of the stretch of his own on his face.

Willie strums on his guitar, crooning softly, the sound warm and deep. With the weight of you against his chest, that feeling crackles like the flames over the wood logs in the fireplace. You drop your head, turn your cheek, and just before you come to rest on his shoulder, he sees your smile slide into a smirk.

“New, huh? What’s new look like for a sixty-five-year-old man at the end of the world?” Even with teasing, your voice is soft and sweet, the soft powder of cinnamon. Slowly, as if not to startle either one of you, he leans his chin against your forehead.

“You n’ I’ve been burning both ends, keepin’ the lights on. New to us is having a goddamn break.” His voice is low, meant only for you, and in the tremble of his deep bass, the words elongate in his mouth. He brings your intertwined hands just under his chin and when that goes well, he tightens his grip around your back, drawing you flush against him. It reduces the dancing to more of a sway but Joel can’t find a single thing to complain about. You gently tap the pad of your middle finger in the hollow of his collarbone to the beat of the song.

I'm empty without you so come grow within me

For I am the forest and you are the trees

And the heavens need romance so love never dies

“‘N ‘m only fifty-six, jackass.”

You grin, twisting in his grasp, rub your nose on his chest to wrap your arms around his neck. He clutches to your back like a key finding its lock.

You'll be the stars dear and I'll be the sky

And should any of this find us let them all be forewarned

That you are the thunder and I am the storm

“This is nice, Joel,” you murmur in his ear. The backs of his arms are growing warm by the fire. He presses his lips to your exposed shoulder, unsure of what to say, or what not to say, only nodding. He closes his eyes, trying to hold this moment forever in his memory. The soft flare of your waist, the winged-spread of your ribs, beneath his hands brings him back into your arms.

"Yeah?" Quiet, into your skin as if to muffle the question entirely, to muffle the unsure wobble in his voice. "It's good?"

He feels you nod beneath his chin, the smell of fresh soap escaping from the back of your neck, and the clamp around his throat loosens. He breathes, unimpeded for the first time all night, a low exhale taking the tension from his body as the air leaves his lungs.

Relief. A sinking down into the moment, into your arms.

You chuckle with your cheek against his chest and he feels the vibrations down to his stomach.

"Yeah, Joel, you did good. Really good." With the hand he holds in the air, you rub your thumb over the knuckle of his thumb, soothing. It used to bother him you could read the lines of his emotions as well as you read a book, as well as you write your own name, effortlessly, as if you had been given a guide no one ever thought to show him. But now, now that you understand how much this means to him, that you know he needs to be told he made you happy, it's more than relief. It's an unburying – a resuscitation of pieces of himself (seed-like bone fragments) that he thought had long since died in the soil of his ribs. "Thank you. I needed this."

He wants you to see the whole of him. Lift up an antiquated silver plate and show you the dents and scratches in his reflection. When you kiss his cheek gently, the hope floating in his chest flares, a solar explosion with tendrils that reach into the blackness of space and it asks him, what would you do to keep her?

Everything. Anything.

He shuffles closer, feels the warmth of your body lined up against his, the clean scent beneath the edge of your jaw blooming in his nose and throat. The hope hums, pitches dark like the forest floor in the rain, and grows teeth. His want for you digs into his skin and evolves into a needy, unsatisfied thing.

“Where’d you get this dress, hm?” He asks, lips half an inch from your shoulder. It falls and rises, never catching on your skin as he plays with the fabric. He runs his palm up your spine, the velvet coming with him, and watches as the swell of your thighs and the tease of your ass is revealed. Dirty old man. “‘N who do I have to kill to get you to keep it?”

You laugh into his neck. He wonders if you’re intentionally twisting his curls at the base of his neck to send sparks of arousal down his spine or if you are completely unaware of the cause of his insanity. Your hands are littered with scars and calluses and every time you touch him, he could melt through the floorboards.

“They found it in some strip mall and were actually going to strip it down for material. But Aaron at the sewing center owed me a favor and you said wear something nice, so . . .” You thumb the lip of his collar, your fingertips brushing the knot of his spine every time you drag your fingers back and forth.

And I'll always be with you for as long as you please

For I am the forest and you are the trees

He knows you well enough to know that something lingers in your mind, but even after all this time, even after what he’s seen with you, been through with you, the things he’s done to you – he isn’t quite sure if he has the right to ask.

Instead, he squeezes you. He means to do it just with his hands, but ends up swallowing you in his arms.

Your mouth is pressed up against his chest when you finally go on.

“It just seems silly to keep, Joel.”

The high he’s been riding on all night falters, since you first walked down those stairs to him. Your eyes are wet when he pulls back and cups you by your cheek. He stops swaying with you.

“Why’s that?”

There it is, that all too familiar flicker of fear. You can’t look at him, despite his every touch, his every glance pulling you into him, to be near him.

“Because other people should have it. They should have a chance to . . .”

You withdraw your head from his hands, his thumb brushing your jaw as you retreat. He might actually lose a piece of himself if you let go now, but instead you clasp his wrists in your fingers. You stare at your hands and his between you, as if this whole thing between you could solidify at your feet, finally real.

Willie has stopped singing, only that musky drone on an empty track.

“Someone else should have a chance to feel pretty, to feel this way, because it shouldn’t be wasted and I’m afraid – I wonder if –,”

He knows he’s being a bit too rough when he takes your jaw and straightens your gaze to him, but his heart might fly out of his chest before he has a chance to say anything. His stomach turns, not knowing he’s not at the peak of a roller coaster drop, that he’s standing on solid ground, even if it swims under his feet.

“What you feel is not wasted.” A murmur, stern, as steadily and as serious as he possibly can be.

That feeling aches in his chest and you haven’t even gone anywhere. You haven’t left . . . yet. “What this is, is not wasted time. I spent twenty years wasting time, looking for something that wasn’t there, and with you . . . I can’t say I’ve found it –,”

“Why? Why can’t you say you’ve found it?” Your grip around his wrists tightens, eyes hard. “Why can’t you name it, Joel?”

“Can you?” He pulls his hands out of your grip and you let him go. “How can you ask for what you want when you can’t even ask to keep this dress?”

“Because I don’t deserve it!” It’s not silence that follows; it’s emptiness. You face away from him, pressing the heel of your hand into your brow bone, teeth slightly bared. Your arm bars across your stomach like you are literally holding in your guts. Finally, you lift your head, the few scant tears on your face sparkling in the firelight. “I don’t deserve you, Joel. I don’t deserve any of this. Ellie, the way she . . . I’m here, warm and happy, acting like the fucking world hasn’t ended. Playing house, playing pretend. Pretending like I’m your –,”

You swallow the words caught in your throat, gaze leaping away from him. At your side, your hand trembles again.

Oh, honey, the shit I’ve done . . .

With wide, wet eyes, you watch him approach. He doesn’t look at you, instead seeing exactly where he’d like to put his lips on your stomach beneath the fabric.

“Then what do you want, hm?” There’s a fold in the front of the dress and he runs his fingers along the edge of it. “We can’t fix it. Can’t go back ‘cause there’s nothin' to go back to. I don’t care what you had to do to get here, right here, with me because I’m so fuckin’ glad you are. I’m not pretending, not wasting my time, never was. ‘Cause you’re right.”

Your hand over his stills his endless roving and then it stays, scarred hand over scarred hand. Your gesture says something to him, something so meaningful he has no idea how to put it into words. He swallows his attempt and instead, slowly, drags both hands over your hips, where they stay. Heavy against the velvet.

You rest your own against his forearms, neither pulling him in or pushing him back.

“I was right about what?”

His eyes flick to yours and maybe it’s presumptuous, maybe he really is an old man afraid of his feelings, or maybe living this long – despite everything that ever tried to make it otherwise – living this long has granted him the privilege of knowing with perfect clarity what you’re thinking when you look at him like that. How he wants to whisper it back to you and he decides he will the next time your skin is warm and tacky, body helpless beneath his.

Your eyes shamelessly track the brush of his tongue against his bottom lip.

“That you’re mine. Just like I’m yours.”

The hands at his forearms glide up to his chest. The rims of your irises have gone a bit blurred, a bit unstable, and you can’t decide whether to look at his mouth or his eyes.

“Joel?” Suddenly breathy, all begging, pleading.

“Hm?”

“Get me out of this fucking dress.”

When your lips crash into his, his entire world narrows down to where on his body, yours touches:

your rough hand cradling his cheek, the other fisting the collar of his shirt. His fingers digging into your skirt, the heat from your thigh nearly driving him to tear straight through the fabric to get to you. Your sweet, perfect mouth smeared against his, lips puffed pink, nose to your cheek.

That warm, wet cunt he thinks he can feel through his boxers, jeans, the dress and your underwear.

It’s not enough.

The cry you let out is some mangled mix of a moan and his name when he licks the soft supple skin behind your ear and nips your earlobe.

“Baby, please – please – bedroom, we have to–,”

He grunts his disapproval at your words, overwhelmed by the scent that makes his mouth water as he stains the column of your throat with wet, humid kisses.

“Joel, c’mon, honey, just upstairs –,”

The last flickering tiny speckle of logic in his brain fights with itself; take your right here or haul you over his shoulder – which isn’t great for his back and, quite frankly, he intends to spend most of the night on his knees.

First option it is.

You mumble in confusion, eyes shut, chin brushing the thread of gray curls on the top of his head as he purposefully sucks a bright hickey into your collarbone, one hand cupping your breast, the other pushing you backwards. You go willingly, of course.

Until the backs of your legs hit the couch and there’s nowhere else to go. In the stumble, your dress rides up even higher and those thighs he’s actually lost sleep over appear to him. He drops to his knees, hands like meat hooks as they squeeze your waist, pulling that warm cunt even closer to him over the edge of the couch. You groan when he pushes the skirt up even higher, practically to your tits, as he explores your outer, then inner thighs with soft strokes of the back of his hands. He presses his nose to the crevice between your thigh and hip and inhales.

“B-baby, the windows,” you swallow thickly, slurring like you’re drunk, grabbing at his shoulders like you’re trying to steady yourself, or turn him towards the windows. “I mean – the curtains, baby, the curtains are –,”

“It’s a fucking blizzard outside,” he explains tersely with his eyes still closed, as if irritated to have a conversation instead of focusing every ounce of concentration he has to the heat and smell beneath your black panties. He drags his teeth over the elastic band around your hips and makes you whine his name for an entirely different reason.

You don’t make him stop or wait when he tugs those panties down your hips. In fact, you help, lifting your hips, the irises of your eyes so wide and black, you look halfway out of your mind.

Good.

He gathers the skirt he was once so fond of and stuffs it into the cushions behind you. You watch him as he moves, eyes half-lidded, finger scraping your bottom lip. Around his ribs, your knees dip back and forth, moving targets, like he’s forgotten why he’s here and needs reminding.

His big paw, the size of which makes you feel indescribably small, catches your knee and stills it, gaze dark and heavy. Do not test me right now. You try not to moan.

“Can’t believe I’m going to let you fuck me with my boots on,” you whisper airly, watching with delirious fascination as he puts one of your slender legs over his shoulder. His mouth is actually watering at the sight of your damp curls.

“Not gonna fuck you. Just gonna eat your pussy. You’ll know the difference.”

“Semantically, it’s the sa-a-me thi-ng, Jo-e – ah, Joel!”

His tongue up inside you turns you into a whiny, high-pitched, feminine mess. He eats like he does everything else: diligently, quickly, and silently.

Until you bury your fingers in his ash-flecked curls and tug.

That first deep, loud moan ripples through his body, rolling him up just off his heels, his crotch seeking some kind – any kind – of friction.

The feel of his mouth humming against your cunt has your eyes rolling back in your head. “Please, oh fuck, please –”

You are a grown woman. You should not be making these noises.

You also shouldn’t be using a man’s face to get off . . . but you do it anyway.

“Tha’s it, baby,” he mutters when your hips grind against his face. His nose catches your clit and around him, your thighs wobble. “Use me, fuckin’ use me.”

His grip around your calf over his shoulder turns rough and he knows he’ll bruise you, but fuck, the thought of you walking around town with a mark in the shape of his hand where everyone can see —

He briefly lifts his grip from your thigh to adjust his iron-hot cock in his jeans. From his view over your cunt, it doesn't seem like you noticed, or even saw him leave your skin. He watches you writhe, try to capture your breath, eyes crammed shut as your hips rock almost without your control. He takes a chance to lick the musky dampness from his upper lip when your cunt rolls back from his face a fraction of an inch — and then he sinks in again.

Call it age or the fact that you both are here at the end of the world, but the first night he ate you out, you told him exactly how and where you like it, unabashed and in control and honestly it’s the hottest thing he can think of in recent memory.

He would have written it down on the backs of his eyelids if he could.

He follows it to the letter.

“Joel – Joel, baby, please don’t stop –,” You buck and moan beneath him as he spells out your instructions with his tongue along your cunt. He dots the i’s with a tap of his tongue or a lick on your clit. Just inches above his head, your chest heaves, your fingers locked into his curls, gently pushing him closer to your puffy pussy as if he’d ever waste a drop of what leaks out of you.

With a flat-tongued brush against your suffering clit, you arch off the couch, your sighs now verging on desperate, high and whinging, because it’s just not fair how good he makes you feel. He can feel your foot curl against the planes of his back, the rubber heel heavy, your mouth open and wet, with your eyes locked on the ceiling as you try to ride out your humming orgasm with a semblance of control.

“Look at me.”

No other man has ever been able to make you come with just his mouth, you told him once.

And no other man ever will.

It’s sweet, the way your eyes soften briefly when you lock eyes with him, crouched between your thighs — before your head tips back, lips wrenched apart in a silent scream, and you come, as hard as he has worked for the flush of slick down his chin.

There’s goosebumps on your thighs, he notes. He rubs his thumb against your raised skin and you shudder, head rolling against the back of the couch.

He’s already feeling a slight twinge of shame at the noise his knees will inevitably make when he stands, but for now he’s content watching you glide down from your high, his head against your knee, shoulders still stretching your legs open wide.

To his delight, you manage to laugh, your hand draping over your eyes. You can see the shine of the dull light all across his lips, his chin, his nose and you have to close your eyes. He should make you lick it off him, but not tonight.

“Top marks, Miller, as usual,” you mumble, “but the threat of voyeurism really deserves the extra credit.”

He grins. Still waiting for your breath to slow, he wipes his mouth with his palm and slides the leg over his shoulder down in between his own thighs. Propped up on one knee, he begins to unlace your boot. He holds your calf like it’s delicate as he gently drags the boot over your heel.

He’s just as reverent with the other side.

And then your boots, the pair, sit at the end of his couch, like they were always meant to be there.

His heart, easing down from its own thunderous beat, squeezes and that feeling, that strange-not-so-strange feeling, the one that dictates practically every action with you, dribbles into his veins.

You open one eye. A flutter of lashes, coy and playful, the curve of your mouth guarding a hoard of secrets.

“Now, Joel Miller . . . will you take me to bed?”

It’s a question. A request. Your eyes, as dark as ever, on his warm his chest, all the way down his spine. You’re asking, politely, for a thing you both know he would never, ever deny you.

He cannot lose you, he just can’t.

He stands and, yes, his knees crack and pop, but he regains stability when he toes off his only good pair of cowboy boots. He nods, grinning, and offers you his hand.

The walk, half-run up to his bedroom is something his brain designates as not important enough to store away.

Instead, it languishes in the way you stretch out on his mattress before him, ass in the air, knees spread over his blankets and arms sliding through crumpled sheets towards the headboard.

The room is dark, the only light fighting its way through the downpour of snow comes from the lamp posts that dot the street outside. But the veil of snow warps the light and everything in the half-darkness is doused in blue.

The shadowy, blurred curve of your shoulder, blue.

The spread of your fingers on his mattress, blue.

The swollen bottom of lip of your mouth —

“Joel.”

The snow falls so fast and hard, it patters against the windows and the sides of the house. It’s the only thing he can hear over the pounding of his heart and the short breath in his lungs. He stares at you, soaking his blankets in your scent and slick, and you stare right back in utter and total silence.

You sit in the center of his bed, bare for him beneath the velvet dress that is red like blood, your patchy white socks at complete odds with your smeared make up and the fucked-out look in your eyes. But there’s something else there too.

Something softer. Gentler.

You reach out a hand to him and he goes to you, like always. The instant your skin touches his the instinct to fuck you hard until you’re bruised and crying evaporates. He doesn’t think you want that anymore either.

No, you need —

“Joel, please come here. I need you.”

You need him.

The mattress squeaks when he settles one knee and then the other on top of it, his fingers stroking your ear, brushing the tips of your hair, while he kisses you with an ache that is not physically manifested. Instead, it resides —

“I love you,” you whisper.

You pull back infinitesimally, just enough that your eyes are all he sees.

A patient silence hangs from the ceiling. The sound of snow falling. Of baited breath. The scratch of your fingers against at his beard —

“I love you too.” You smile and his body is no longer big enough to contain his heart. “I feel like I’ve always loved you. Is that strange?”

Your gaze traces the same path your fingers take when you think he’s sleeping; it runs over his nose, his forehead, his eyebrows, the plush curve of his lips. Like you can’t believe he’s there with you. Like you can’t believe he’s real.

That feeling — that feeling he had been fighting because it always was the only thing that would ever really do him in — is love. He loves you.

He loves you.

And you love him.

Didn’t think they told stories like this anymore, not in a world like this. So maybe, for once, Joel Miller just got lucky.

“No. It’s not. Just be sure you mean it.”

He can't tell if the glow in your eyes comes from within you or it beams out of him. “Every word.”

Eventually, he sheds you of his favorite dress of yours, your only dress, and he lays you back, fully bare in the nest of his blankets. In the corner of his bedroom, the heater hisses like the wind from a purple storm, the static crackle of warmth hovering in the air. You watch, with eyes that shine like stars, as he pops apart the pearl-snaps holding his shirt together.

And then his white undershirt goes next. He used to worry what he looked like, until he found someone else who had done exactly what was necessary to survive.

When he goes to unzip his pants, you sit up, hair mussed and the hickey he gave you earlier throbbing like a dream.

“I wanna do it.”

He lets you unbutton his jeans, slide the zipper down, at the edge of the bed, but your hands are shaking, your breath stunted.

“I’m fumbling like a teenager,” you huff, a small, flustered smile on your face. “It’s like I’m nervous, but what is there to be nervous about —,”

His mouth pressed up against yours creates the most beautiful silence of all.

How do you want me, you ask him and he thinks, all the time. But he takes you both under the covers and settles in next to you. He positions one leg over his hip and immediately you know exactly what he’s asking for. Quick as a whip, you are.

There’s a rustle of covers, the bed slats squeaking, and then he’s nearly nose-to-nose with you. You kiss him again, maybe nervous still.

He disconnects, when you slip between his legs and take his thick, leaking cock in your hand.

“Baby, wait, do you need — I know it’s a lot — I’m a lot –,”

He can’t fathom why he’s so nervous either. But you chuckle, shake your head, smile at him.

“Don’t need anything but you.”

Your leg wraps tighter over his hip, knee up to his ribs, as he sinks inside you. The palm wrapped around the back of your knee grips roughly only once.

This is true silence. The instant where the world goes muted, everything distant and muffled, when he’s first buried deep in your heat.

Your fingers thread through his curls and suddenly all sound is cranked up to an eleven. Your rapid, stilted breathing, the groan of the bed, your soft smothered moans, or are those his? —

“Fuck me, Joel.”

Eyes never leaving yours, he does.

Your fingers dig into his skull, nails biting, hand wrapped around his neck to hold yourself steady as he thrusts up into you. He thumbs your stiff nipple, half of his hand still grasping your ribs.

You meet him thrust for thrust, a slow steady pace that draws sweat to his hairline and endless gasps from his mouth. But your gaze stays strong, never falters. Your hand slips to his shoulder, to stabilize just a bit more, but then it's on his chest, twisting his chest hair and he thinks he feels that sparkle of sanity, of rationality, any restraint to hold back crack and shatter between the clench of his teeth.

“Goddamn–,”

He rolls, taking you under him and demanding a faster pace. You push your hand against the headboard, the bed knocking against the wall in rhythmic, hypnotic thuds.

He thinks you hiss his name before you bite down his shoulder.

The sharp shock of pain lights up his brain, channeling the sudden awareness that he liked that so fucking much all the way down his spinal cord where it presses hot against his groin.

He lifts up onto one elbow, skin sweat hot and sticky as it splits from yours.

“Tell me what you need to come,” he pants.

You whine again, your throat dripping sweat, but that’s not an answer. Knowing he has about a half-a-dozen to a dozen good grinds before it puts too much strain on his back, he uses every single one of them to drag you to the knife’s edge.

“What–,” grind, “do you need –,” grind, “to come?”

The wail you let out nearly makes him come on the spot. Your eyes have that same, out-of-this-world, off-this-planet unfocused gaze, any sort of language impossible. You plead with him in the silence. A silence loaded with damp moans, grit teeth, and skin against skin against skin against skin against skin. Best sound in the world, as far as he was concerned.

You arch until he lifts above you and, taking the hand that was by your head, tuck it down between your legs. You let him grasp around with spread fingers where you are wet, where his cock rocks into your body, watch as that pulls him apart faster with dark eyes, before pressing his thumb against your clit.

There, you say without words. There is where I need you.

Once, twice, he circles – he can feel the tightness in his back already settling in, his jaw fixed and locked, his body battling the two overwhelming sensations of dull pain and fierce, wild pleasure – and you hit your release and you soak him in it.

He falls then too, falls just as hard and as fast as you, the chronic pain he holds in his shoulders, his neck, his back, his knee fleetingly gone in the rush of heat that branches out of his body from his groin and it feels divine.

When he lies on top of you, face buried in the curve of your neck, the heat from your humid skin warming up the breath in his lungs, the throb of your body matching his, his mind wiped clean, the thought occurs to him:

It’s not silence he’s found with you, it’s quiet.

It’s peace.

Eventually, some awareness seeps back into his trembling body and he rolls off of you, but takes the curve of your jaw in his hand as he goes. He can’t settle into the pillows because he can’t stop kissing you, love bites occasionally against your lip, as if where his body fails, he proves his love for you won’t end so easily.

Eventually, you press your fingers into the base of his skull and, like a reset button, he groans and drops onto his back.

Eventually, the quiet returns. Only soft noises, murmurs of existence outside of this perfect little room, fill the space.

Eventually, he falls asleep with you curled up next to him.

He knows you love waking up in bed together, but he also knows you love fresh coffee even more.

Which is where Ellie finds him the next morning.

He nearly adds too much ground coffee to the pot because he’s distracted, lost in thought about the way your curves looked in the bright morning light, when the back door slams open and a little creature made of entirely scarves, mittens, and an oversized purple jacket stomps into his kitchen and clomps its snowy shoes on the rug.

“Joel, we gotta go!” She’s a little breathless, red-cheeked too as she unwinds the scarf around her head and her face is revealed. “We don’t wanna miss it!”

“Miss what?” Joel asks, this time carefully measuring how much water the pot needs.

His question is not met with her usually buzzy chatter. Instead, she’s stopped undoing her scarf and just stares at him like he’s been beamed down from another planet.

He realizes all too late that he’s still in PJs at 9AM (basically a sign of another apocalypse), he’s making more coffee than just for himself, and he’s smiling.

Shit.

“Ellie, um, I –,”

She rolls her eyes. Her scarf is flung off her neck and she starts yanking off her gloves, her plucky attitude back, if not a bit smug.

“Get your girlfriend up too. They’re lighting the big tree in town square in an hour. I know she’d be pissed if she missed it.”

So definitely caught. Time to be “The Adult” here and put it out on the table.

“Don’t call her that.” Joel eyes her. Coffee percolating, he grabs a slice of bread and Ellie’s favorite jam. “Makes it sound like we’re fourteen.”

She frowns at him, classic “pouty-mouth”.

“I’m fourteen — rude. But seriously, and I say this because I care, get over yourself. Call a spade a spade. You’re dating her, fucking her–,”

“Ellie!”

"– and you make gross ga-ga eyes at each other when you think I’m not looking."

She slides into the seat at the island in front of him as he pushes the toasted bread with jam across the marble to her. She takes a bite, chews with her mouth open, and shrugs. “That’s a girlfriend, dude.”

Joel turns back to the eggs that might be burning, his shoulders hunched and fist tight around the spatula. Hate it when the kid is right.

He salvages what he can of the eggs, plates them along with two strips of bacon on two plates, and balances a mug of coffee on each. He tries to salvage some of his dignity with a glare.

“When you’re older, you’ll see some things just don’t need labels.”

At that, she rolls her eyes again and snatches up the last strip of bacon from the folded, greasy napkins. “Whatever, you dork.”

Argument soundly lost, he gathers up the plates and heads back up stairs. She’s still mumbling to herself as he goes.

“'Girlfriend', pfft . . . much better than fuck bunny!” She yells to no one in particular.

You hear the entire conversation from bed, the door cracked open enough for the sound to travel. Muffling a giggle, you snag his white shirt from the floor and draw it over your head. You should probably be more embarrassed that Joel got caught in his Walk of Shame, even if it was to his own kitchen to make breakfast. But . . . you’re just not.

The smile is still on your face when his footfalls approach the door and he sticks his head into the room.

“Sounds like we’re busted,” you smirk.

Joel almost chuckles. “'Bout as busted as you can be.” He hands you one plate and sits on the end of the bed with his own. He takes a low, slow sip of coffee and you follow him. The eggs are nibbled at and the bacon is perfectly crunchy.

“So . . . girlfriend?”

He rolls his eyes. “Not you too.”

“I mean," you slip the plate and coffee onto the bedside table, then hug the sheets around your knees, "I agree with you on the bit about labels. It seems silly. And not wasteful silly. Just . . .”

“Silly.” Joel’s eyes are as dark as his coffee, warmer than it too. “Doesn’t really capture the whole thing, does it?”

An apocalypse and a half later, and a boy’s sweet eyes on you can still make your stomach swoop.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Then what do you wanna say, if people start askin’?”

You bite your lip, eyes up in faux-thought. “Truth be told, I'm kinda partial to fuck bunny. Cute like with a little tail and ears —,"

The groan from Joel and subsequent head shake makes you laugh enough for you to take pity on the old guy. You crawl closer and his eyes slip from your face to where the sheet tucks under your knees. But a hand on his cheek returns his gaze.

"I like what you said last night." Your smile is soft, pleased. "That I’m yours. Like you’re mine.”

Joel’s warmth bleeds from his whole frame as he leans in close to put his mug on the bedside table, then leans in closer still to you. He drags his nose over your bare, exposed shoulder, in a way that is sweet and sensual all at once. He stops with a kiss on the hinge of your jaw.

“I like that too. I like saying that you’re mine.”

Ignoring the shiver that rockets up your spine at the low hum of his voice, the flutter of his lips barely against your cheek, you tuck an errant curl around his ear and it immediately springs back up again. You smile and he smiles back, a youthful shine in his eyes.

“Wherever you are, I am too.”

Listen to: I am the forest by Willie Nelson

964 notes · View notes

fancyfeathers · 24 days ago

Note

Hey Fancy! Apologies if this is a wee bit long but it’s a random platonic yandere Batfam idea I’ve had for a long time. Adopted daughter who becomes an investigative journalist. (With Outlast crossover)

Darling was a product of one of Bruce’s affairs and he never really cared, he paid child support and that’s about it. Darling didn’t care as she and her mother were happy together until they weren’t. Darling’s mother starts to have to work longer hours, coming back more and more hollow until there’s nothing left but her corpse. Darling had a gut feeling her mom died because her mom’s boss was cutting corners in safety at some chemical plant and forcing long hours on workers.

Of course darling has to go to her father’s house now and live with him (I imagine she was adopted a year before Jason died) after a week she’s asked if she wants to become Robin to which she refuses. She wants to fight the criminals who act as altruists, such as corrupt leaders and politicians, companies who have blood on their hands but hide it, because that’s the hero who could save her mom. Bruce accepts this but the family just seems to forget her. Not out of maliciousness, except for Damien, they just don’t have time for a non-vigilante sibling. She feels alone and when Tim and then Damien are welcomed into the family they neglect her too. Damien even mocks her for being useless. The only family she had there is Alfred, as he made sure to care for darling whenever s he could.

When darling turns 18, she gets out of that house and goes to a university to study journalism. She becomes an investigative journalist who gained her reputation for going deep into the depths of corruption’s depravity and meets this one dude named Miles Upshur who she becomes partners with as they both are freelance journalists because they don’t censor the truth. They get an email one day telling them about messed up things happening at Mount Massive asylum.

They both go and cue the events of the game Outlast and Outlast Whistleblower. I’m not sure if you are comfortable with the contents of those games so I summarize it by saying the patients were being experimented on and broke free causing Miles to get trapped in the asylum with no way to fight back. He only has places to hide and a camera with night vision that drains his batteries. He gets very injured and Whistleblower is the same concept as it’s the same place but from the perspective of the one who sent the email. I imagine the darling was somehow separated from miles but ended up getting out of there with the whistleblower.

She took the footage and instead of letting the whistleblower release it, as the company begging the asylum would hunt him and his wife and kids down, she would be the one as her reputation precedes her. But after dropping the whistleblower off at his home she has no choice but to go to her old one, cause if the company couldn’t ruin her reputation, could just silence her like they did with everyone else. The batfam is going to be very confused when a freshly traumatized, bloody,and bruised darling shows up on their front porch, clutching camcorders to her chest like a lifeline. Who knows, they might just not let her out if this is how she ends up after being on her own.

again really sorry if this is weird or too long! It’s just been brewing in my brain and I needed to share it

God it’s been forever since I played Outlast, I don’t remember everything about the game cause I was screaming and crying for the most part and I literally could only watch Whistleblower and had to skip some stuff

This might not be entirely game accurate cause it has been a hot minute but I will do my best

I do not think Bruce would be exactly neglectful especially since this is yandere content and obsession starts when they normally meet their darling, like a root that takes hold and begins to grow after certain events. I imagine that her mom did not want her daughter to meet Bruce cause she thought he would not be a good influence, the whole billionaire playboy persona. She raised her daughter on her own until her death, her daughter can remember sitting in the hospital when the doctor told her that she was dead, died of radium poisoning, her body decaying while she was still alive.

She remembers sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting after the staff called her biological father to pick her up, a nurse sitting with her. She knew why her mother did not want her to meet her, but her mother was wrong to an extent. She honestly expected someone like Alfred to pick her up, who she knew because he would meet with her mother for fund related affairs since she did not want her daughter knowing her father…

But Bruce was the one who picked her up, in fact he practically came running when he got the call from the hospital when he was at a gala.

When Bruce came into the hospital waiting room, he kneeled down to her level and took her little hands in his, he felt so sorry for not knowing, he could have helped, but for now what he can tell her is…

“Everything will be okay, I’ll keep you safe.”

Bruce is not intentionally neglectful, he really does try his best, but between being Batman and handling his daily affairs as Bruce Wayne he just does not have the time besides to have meals with her. He does keep her safe, puts a tracker in her bag or jacket in case anything goes wrong, but as if something will go wrong while she is playing soccer after school.

Dick is also probably very busy as well to give her much attention but he is pretty similar to Bruce in the way that he cares but he just does not have the time to now that he is Nightwing. He occasionally takes her out to do things, and he apologizes for not being able to spend more time with her, but he is just so busy.

Her and Jason are probably the closest, he is her big brother in his eyes. He helps her transition into her new home the most, making pillow forts, playing video games, taking her out to play in the snow. Then one morning she comes downstairs to see Alfred looking so solemn and Bruce sitting in an armchair in the living room, his head in his hands and still in the Batman suit, but no sign of Jason…

“Dad?”

She knows something is wrong so she hugs Bruce and it is the first time she sees him cry, he hugs her back, as if scared to let her go… but that is because he is.

“Oh sweetheart… I am so sorry.”

He was going to ask her to be a Robin one day, Jason would not have the mantle forever since after all Dick didn’t, but now he can’t stand the idea of loosing her, so he’ll keep her safe, even if that means keeping her at an arms length.

I think after Jason’s death he would probably send her to boarding school in a safer city like Metropolis or boarding school in a small town with next to no crime rate. It breaks his heart to send her away like that, but it is what keeps her alive. She comes home on the holidays and breaks but there is just an aura about the house now that Jason is gone, a constant state of sadness and as if a hand is holding onto her, which is fair because when she is home she isn’t allowed off of the manor grounds, Gotham is just too dangerous. That doesn’t mean they make more time for her, no her summers and holidays are just as lonely as they were before, only this time she is isolated from the outside world and left lonely by her own family.

Tim is similar to Dick in the way that he feels bad but does not make much of an effort to spend more time with her, even less so than Dick does. He only texts her every now and then so show he somewhat cares and talks with her at family meals, but that’s it.

Then there is Damian, she cannot stand him. She knows he grew up entitled in the League of Assassins but he cannot even pretend to be nice. He talks to her as if she is beneath him, despite the fact that when he is brought into the manor she is a senior in high school.

“No wonder you never became Robin, why would father let the most useless child even-“

“Damian, that is enough!”

Luckily Bruce or Alfred normally intervenes and defuses the situation before Damian says something too extreme.

Then she graduates high school and moves on to university, which Bruce pays for in full without hesitation. It is there in university that she meets her partner in crime, Miles Upshur. They are practically joined at the hip and then when that first finals come around and their project is to do a mock investigation and article and they get to choose a topic to do it on and then Miles asked her…

“Hey, what do ya want to do this on? Lexcorp? Abuse in the ballet industry? Maybe-“

“The radium scandal in the Gotham City Chemical Plant.”

“That’s oddly specific, why?”

“It’s how my mom died.”

And that’s how everything started with their chosen path of investigation. They graduate and the two of them even get photos in their graduate robes and degrees together. Her family comes, which an empty seat to honor Jason, despite him watching from a back doorway, she does not need to know what happened to him in the Lazarus Pit and he certainly won’t be caught dead with Bruce at the time.

Bruce is only okay with her going into journalism because he thinks she’ll be working behind a desk at a paper, not what her and Miles plan on doing…

If he knew he certainly would not be happy and try to find a way to interfere…

But sadly he never remembered to ask exactly what she was going to do.

Her and Miles have done a number of stories together, after the first five or so Bruce found out the kind of work she was doing and repeatedly called her to try to talk her out of it, but she would ignore his calls every time.

It was just supposed to be another job, not whatever this was…

They got an email from an anonymous worker, asking to investigate the Murkoff Corporation and their actions at Mount Massive Asylum. The two even joked during their car ride over to the asylum, laughing about stories she shared about her life at the manor and their old college days, they had no idea what they would find inside.

The asylum even looked messed up from the outside, but the inside was a thousand times worse…

Patients who were experimented on, and now they were inhuman and trying to kill, disassemble, mutilate them, you get the idea…

An insane priest to put it lightly…

Dead bodies all over, murdered in horrible ways…

Everyone left alive in there was less than human, insane, or just about to go insane…

And when I say insane, I mean Joker levels of insane.

They get separated along the way, which is good for her, but not so good for Miles.

She makes it out alive thanks to their anonymous source who sent them the email in the first place, Waylon Park who is a software engineer. The two escape together and due to her shock she can’t remember much until long after she left Waylon at his home and she is pulled over at a rest stop half way between Lake County, Colorado and Gotham City, New Jersey, way to exhausted to continue on. She reaches for her phone and finally calls Bruce back.

“D-dad… are you there?”

“Yes, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“S-so much… I want to go home… please I…”

She passes out from exhaustion while on the phone…

But luckily, do you remember what I said about Bruce putting trackers on her things? He never stopped when she was an adult.

When she wakes up she is back home in the manor, in her old room. She is laying flat on her back with everyone around her, even Damian and…

“Jason?”

“Ya… I’m here, lovebug. Just rest, you certainly need it.”

“Need it? For fucks sake she is missing a finger!”

“Dick, shut up-“

Bruce yells them to shut up and he holds her bandaged and stitched hand in his…

“Sweetheart, what happened?”

She only points to the camera in her things as asks them not to play it in front of her. They all watch it together in the Batcave before patrol and…

“Oh my god.”

It is worse than what the Joker did to Jason.

When she finally recovers and is going to write the story and-

No she is not allowed to, Bruce will handle the situation, most likely bringing it to the attention of the Justice League.

In fact she is not allowed to write another story again, she is not leaving the manor again. She is not a hero, she is just a reporter, and Jason is unable to fully move on after what happened to him so how well will she fair out in the real world in her fragile mental state? What if something happens that triggers those memories? They are not letting her take that risk.

Most days she is kept in her room, a controlled environment to make her feel safe. Then most nights one of her brothers or Bruce sleeps beside her in bed after patrols in case nightmare come up and she wakes up screaming. If her mental state get too bad they’ll sedate her so at least her mind is calm and she is not getting flashbacks. Bruce eventually gets her a therapist to work through what happened to her so at least she can have some what of a normal life after what happened…

Well as normal as you can get when you are locked inside for the rest of your life.

#yandere dc x reader #yandere dc #yandere justice league x reader #yandere justice league #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere batman #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batfamily #platonic yandere batfamily #platonic yandere dc #platonic yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake

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seventeenpins · 1 year ago

Text

bad girl

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+

warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)

a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh

you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.

he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.

you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.

there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.

"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"

"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."

there's another silence.

"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"

you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."

joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.

not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."

you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.

you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.

it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.

sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.

you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.

place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.

you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).

you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.

"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.

and then you register it, a couple of moments later.

you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.

you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.

"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.

you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"

"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."

you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"

he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.

"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.

"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"

he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.

"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."

there's a long pause.

"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."

your eyes widen.

"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."

you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.

"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."

there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.

he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.

you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.

you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.

his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.

you want him to say something. you need him to say something.

he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"

it's only then that he looks at you.

"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."

it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.

"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".

joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.

"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"

"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"

it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end

"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"

"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.

"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."

"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.

"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.

"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."

he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.

"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"

you swallow and click back to another tab.

"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.

you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.

"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.

he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.

he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.

'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.

he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.

"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"

you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.

"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."

you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.

"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.

he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"

you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.

as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.

as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"

you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.

he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.

"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."

he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.

"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.

"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."

"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"

he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"

"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.

as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."

you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.

he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.

"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."

you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.

you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.

"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.

"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.

"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.

he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."

"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."

"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."

you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.

that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?

you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.

"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.

"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"

he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly

he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.

"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"

"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"

you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."

"now beg."

two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-

"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"

he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.

"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.

good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.

you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"

his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-

"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"

that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.

he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.

after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.

"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.

"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.

"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"

he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.

before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"

he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.

"good." you say, and joel smiles.

"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."

"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.

that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.

#joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller x f!reader

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moonchild9350 · 19 days ago

Text

Fade Away

summary: hyunjin is your best friend, your confidant, your lover, these things can't just fade away right? pairing: hyunjin x fab!reader genre: childhood friends to lovers, slice of life, sci fi au, fluff, angst, smut-18+MDNI word count: 8.7k warnings: masturbation, cum tasting, fingering, nipple play, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, somniphilia, handjob, oral sex (m receiving), multiple rounds, implied shower sex, mentions of memory loss, mentions of abuse notes: this was kind of a dream and thought it would be cool to write it out. let me know what you think of this, I'd greatly appreciate it! I really do value your feedback :)

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

divider by @fanguro

They say a best friend walks with you through everything, whether it’s an uplifting period of life or when it goes to absolute shit, and you can honestly agree with the statement having experienced it yourself.

Hyunjin has been your best friend since you both were little, since he saw you crying on the park bench right outside your house at the measly age of eight. He comforted you in that moment, trying to distract you from your shitty step parents and the abuse you suffered at their hands.

He cheered you up right away, even going as far as wiping the tears from your face, as you looked at him with your snot stained face and puffy, red eyes. Hyunjin didn’t care however, as long as you were ok.

You both sat on that park bench first in silence and then slowly opening up to each other as your legs dangled over the edge of the seat. Hyunjin listened as you told him your story, that you were adopted and never knew who your birth parents were. Your step parents started to turn on you, hitting you, or locking you up in your room when they didn’t want to be bothered by you shortly after their biological daughter was born.

Hyunjin listened as you described your days, unpredictable and unstable, never knowing what type of mood the adults of the house would be in. Now that your sister was older, she joined in on torturing you by getting you in trouble, blaming things she did on you. Your parents believed her every time, leaving you to take the punishment.

As your tale came to an end, you sniffled and wiped your eyes, looking down at your legs, too ashamed to look at the boy next you.

“Well your parents are assholes!” Hyunjin exclaimed, shocking you completely. “If you need to escape, come to my house!”

Once the initial shock wore off at his kindness, you smiled and kicked your feet.

“Ok,” you said in agreement, nodding your head so he could see.

As the sun slowly descended, casting its pretty glow of reds, pinks, and orange, and the moon took its place, you both sat there, talked and laughed, swinging your little legs in tandem as a new found friendship strengthened.

That was seventeen years ago. Hyunjin is still very much your best friend, so much so that you both live together, splinting the rent of your run down apartment in the side of town that isn’t the best to be in.

He’s been your rock, your foundation and continues to be so, even in the throes of adolescence.

You look at him now as he adjusts himself on his stool, his tongue sticking out as he ponders how he should proceed, his paintbrush resting at his side. There’s soft music playing in the background, creating a cozy atmosphere while the rain pelts the windows, masking the sounds of the busy city below.

You don’t want to break his concentration, so you smile and go back to your book, focusing your mind on the events that are unfolding, as the main character and their beau are about to confess their love for each other.

You and Hyunjin were both off today, your schedules aligning for once. Since it was a gloomy day out, Hyunjin suggested staying in and you couldn’t agree more, not wanting to get out in the nasty weather.

Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours as you both sat in comfortable silence. It wasn’t until you finished the chapter you were on that you moved.

“Hyun! I’m hungry,” you whined as you slammed your book shut.

The loud noise in the otherwise quiet room startled Hyunjin, his paintbrush falling from his hands as he yelped.

“Y/n! Jeez I could have messed up my painting,” hyunjin retaliated with a scowl as he bent over to pick up his paintbrush.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatic response.

“Well, you know how I get when I’m hungry,” you said as you walked over to his seat.

You stood behind him and grasped his shoulders, your fingers lightly messaging the tight muscles as you peeked at his canvas. Your eyes roamed over the rolling hills he depicted on the canvas, met with the various little houses painted in detailed on the landscape.

Hyunjin sighed as he relaxed into your hold, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed the massage you were giving him. Hyunjin was talented, gifted with the ability to recreate any scene, person, or object on canvas, telling a story with the various colors and mediums he chose.

He worked full time at the local coffee shop, saving up money so he can attend the art program at the university.

While he was gifted, you worked two jobs, splitting your time between your job at the book store to your shifts at in the lab working as a research technician. You loved science and wanted to make your mark on the world, so you applied to assist a doctor at the hospital with his research.

Both of your days were long and hard, as you worked towards your dreams, using each other as support. When you had time off, you both spent your days together, participating in craft night or movie night, or just enjoying each other’s presence as in tonight.

“Looking good,” you said as you continued to apply pressure to Hyunjin’s shoulders, chuckling as he let out a low moan as you worked a particular tense area.

“Mmm, thanks. I’m not quite done with it. I want it to be perfect so I can add it to my portfolio for when I apply to the program.” Hyunjin said as he opened his eyes to look at his work.

“They’d be stupid not to take you Hyun,” you replied as you walked away, making your way to the little drawer full of take out menus you’ve both accumulated over the years.

“Pizza? Burgers? Thai food? What are you in the mood for?” You asked, peering over your shoulder at Hyunjin.

“Surprise me,” he said as he got up and started to clear up his mess.

You grinned at his response, remembering that he is not the person to discuss options with as he could never make up his mind. You flipped through the menus, looking out for anything that seemed good.

As you came across a menu for the local pizza parlor, you pulled it out and grabbed your phone to order. Once done, you made your way back to the living room, plopping down on the couch next to Hyunjin. You stared incredulously at the tv screen, as Hyunjin rapidly flipped through the various shows and movies, looking for one only he knew.

Finally, he settled on a drama, his attention glued to the couple on screen who were in the midst of a fight. You tucked in and watched the show with him until the food came.

As the night came to a close, your eyes grew tired, the lids closing as you tried to focus on the show on screen. However, between the sounds of the rain pelting the window and the warmth you felt radiating off Hyunjin, you didn’t stand a chance. Sleep was about to win when Hyunjin shook you awake, chuckling as you let out a grumble at being disturbed.

“Get up sleepy head, let’s get you to bed ok?” Hyunjin said softly as he gently stroked your leg.

You rubbed your eyes and sat up, stretching your back from lying on the uncomfortable couch. Hyunjin guided you to your bedroom and picked out your pjs, setting them on the bathroom counter as you brushed your teeth. Once you were done, you slipped into the cozy set he picked out, the fleece warming your skin in the chilly apartment.

Turning out the light, you walked to your bed, the blankets pulled back with Hyunjin perched on the edge.

“Come on sleepyhead, get in,” he said as he patted your bed.

You giggled as you slid beneath the blankets, lying on your side as Hyunjin tucked you in, making sure you were all nice and snug. Once he was satisfied, he smiled and wished you good night, flipping the light off and closing the door as he left. You could feel yourself drifting off, as you thought of how lucky you were to have such a sweet best friend like Hyunjin.

To you, it seemed like your normal routine, Hyunjin looking out for you, making sure you were well taken care of. It was just him keeping his promise from all those years ago. However, to him it meant a little more, a fact that you were oblivious to as you lived your life with Hyunjin.

The next morning Hyunjin wakes up bright and early, the bright sun filtering through his window. He glances at the light, annoyed that his curtains do nothing to keep the sun out, instead it’s nearly for decoration, adorning the otherwise bare room.

He sat up and yawned, wishing he could go back to sleep since he doesn’t have to go into work until second shift. However, he shook the thought away, willing himself to get up so he could prep breakfast for you as you worked first shift at the bookstore today.

Yes, he makes you breakfast whenever you have an early shift, wanting to make sure you’re well fed to endure the long day ahead of you. It’s just one of the many things he does, not minding in the least for helping you out. He’s felt the need to watch over you, ever since he saw you crying on the little bench as kids, sad and neglected by the very people who were supposed to shower you with love and care.

Hyunjin is in love with you and has been for a few years now. His heart beats ridiculously fast whenever you’re near, threatening to leap out of his chest; he feels flutters in his stomach when you wrap your arms around him in a hug, the scent of your strawberry shampoo drifting through his nostrils; he feels soft towards you as you focus on your goals, working two jobs trying to climb to the top, to be somebody in this godforsaken world.

Hyunjin loves you, and he will always love you. He’s scared to have that discussion with you however, nervous that you would reject him, state that you only want to be friends and not pursue a relationship with him. He’d rather play it safe and stay the ever doting best friend.

As he gets up and searches for his favorite hoodie, he hears you stumble around your room, the sound of a door slamming echoing through the otherwise quiet space. He searches more quickly, wanting to get started on your breakfast so it is ready by the time you make it to the kitchen.

“Ah ha, gotcha,” he mumbles as he pulls it from under a pile of clothes he’s left on the chair.

He slips it on and pads to the kitchen, flipping on the lights as he goes. Hyunjin settles into the familiar routine of making breakfast as he cracks eggs into a pan, pulls the bacon out and gets the coffee started. He shuffles around, working swiftly but efficiently, adding the finishing touches just as you enter the kitchen.

“Morning Hyun,” you grumble, heading straight for the coffee.

He hands you your travel mug and says, “Morning sleepyhead. Sleep well?”

“Fair enough,” you say, pouring the hot liquid into the mug, your tone lightening up at the prospect of the caffeine entering your system soon.

Hyunjin plates up your food and sets it down on the table, beckoning you over to sit and eat. He smiles as you do so without fuss, tucking in to your plate. He busies himself with cleaning up the mess he made as you eat, the sound of your fork clanking with the plate occasionally.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he goes and sits down next to you just as you finish up. He glances at you, taking in your simple attire, perfect for the day of work you have ahead. He smiles as you scarf down the eggs, cooked to perfection just the way you like.

Hyunjin takes another sip of coffee before saying, “I’ll be home later this afternoon since I'm working second shift.”

You hum at his statement, acknowledging that you understand.

“Take out then?” You ask him, glancing up at his face.

“If you’d like,” Hyunjin said with a shrug.

He knows you don’t cook, almost burning down the kitchen the last time you tried. He remembers your shrieks of terror as the pan went up in flames, the piece of meat you were trying to cook engulfed in the yellow-orangish flames. After he simply covered the flames with the lid of the pan, he had to comfort you as you burst into tears, babbling about how you didn’t mean to do it.

Hyunjin watches as you finish the last bite of breakfast and get up, taking your plate with you. You grab the to go mug of coffee he fixed you and bid him goodbye as you head to your shift at the bookstore.

The front door clicks softly, the sound of your key in the lock as you lock the door behind you. Silence reigns over the apartment as the sun begins to shine into the living room, ushering in another long day. Hyunjin finishes his coffee and gets up, planning to sketch a little before he has to get ready for work.

He walks back to his bedroom and grabs his supplies before settling back in bed. He opens to a fresh page and brings pencil to paper, moving his hand gently over the paper, the scratch of the lead soothing to his ears. He begins to hum as a person becomes visible on the page, his eyes taking in what he has drawn so far.

His lips turn up in a smile as he glances down at you, gazing peacefully at him from the page. Your delicate features stick out, soft and gentle just like you. Hyunjin has many sketches of you, little doodles he’ll make whenever he can, his heart soaring as he draws in the many beautiful details of your face and your body.

He’s loved you for ages, his heart twisting every time you gave him that soft smile as your giggles filled the space, livening up the place. He wants to love and protect you forever and always. However, he is sure you don’t feel the same, never having given him signs that you love him more than just a friend. It hurts deep down, but he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship you both have, as you are his lifeline and he doesn’t want that to change any time soon.

Despite this, he can’t help but think of you every second he gets and it’s no different now. The thought of your beauty causes the blood to rush to his cock, the length steadily hardening within the confines of his sweatpants. A wet stain appears on the fabric as he leaks pre-cum, his cock twitching in need.

Hyunjin groans and sets down his sketch pad, his hand palming his erection through his pants. He squeezes his cock and whimpers, imaging your hand on him instead, teasing him, touching him until he begs for you to take it out. He teases the skin of his belly, playing with the little hairs that make up his happy trial.

He takes his time before reaching into his sweats, his hands finally making contact with the head. He gathers some precum before smearing it around, his other hand pushing down his sweats in desperation to touch himself. As he pushes his boxers down, he lets out a hiss as his cock is freed and stands at attention angry, red, and leaking.

With a shaky breath his grasps the shaft and begins to stroke, his hands building up a steady rthymic motion as his mind wanders to you. He wishes it were you, desperately wants it to be you with your hand wrapped around his cock, pleasuring him until he’s squirming and begging for his release. He strokes and strokes, wet sounds filling the room as he’s a leaking mess. His moans mix with the sound of him pleasuring his cock, his breath shaky as his orgasm builds up.

As he continues to stroke himself, his other hand reaches down to fondle his balls, giving them a squeeze as they sit hot and heavy in his hand. Hyunjin’s back arches off the bed as his orgasm washes over him without warning, the pleasure so intense he’s seeing stars, his hearing diminishing as he moans out. His pace doesn’t stop as spurt after spurt of hot cum splatters his hand and belly, painting it with the sticky white substance.

Once he’s empty, he relaxes on the bed, his chest heaving as he comes down from his high, the sound of your voice whispering how good he is in his head. He whimpers as he gathers some of his cum that’s starting to dry on his belly and brings it to his lips, tasting the salty liquid on his tongue. He closes his eyes as his hands rest at his side, his now soft cock lying haphazardly as he wills himself to get up and get cleaned up.

He’s down bad for you, yes, but he doesn’t mind. He welcomes the reminder on a daily basis and will continue to do so for as long as it takes.

Hyunjin finally wills himself to get up, making his way to the bathroom to get ready for work. Once dressed and deemed presentable for his shift at the coffee shop, he gathers his phone and wallet and makes his way to the door.

And as Hyunjin leaves his home, he thinks of tonight when he gets home, to you the love of his life.

You are ready to be home, ready to take a hot shower and get into some cozy clothes and relax in front of the tv. Your shift today was not the best, the events of the day replaying in your mind.

It started off good enough, some of the regular customers stopping by, looking for a new read and others were new, curious to see the old fashioned bookshop that is present in the otherwise modern town. You loved to help others find their next read, wanting to help them escape to other worlds, another place then their everyday mundane lives. Your customers could tell of your passion as they asked you for recommendations and had in depth conversations about the latest books and authors.

However, what started off as a good day turned sour really quickly as your friend Tiffany, stopped by, wanting to gossip about her new boy toy. You have been friends for ages, not as long as you’ve been friends with Hyunjin, but long enough. You love her for what she’s worth, but sometimes she can be a little much for you, her bubbly personality taking over, even when the situation is dire.

You don’t agree with her methods of “dating,” and you’ve let her know your thoughts more times than you can count, today being one of those days. However, Tiffany must have found offense as she started to yell and berate you and your opinions. You couldn’t get a word in as she babbled on and on about how you don’t support her and that the reason why you’re still single is because you have a stick up your ass.

You were taken aback by her words, never having heard her have an outburst quite like this. You didn’t say anything as she stormed out of the shop, the door slamming shut with a final tinkle of the bell that hung at the top of the door.

As you made your way home, you mind wandered to Hyunjin, hoping he would be home on time tonight. You wanted to feel his presence, needing to be comforted. You felt the tears crowd the corner of your eyes, the hurt settling in from today deep in your chest. You needed to get home quickly, so you weren’t crying on the side of the street.

Picking up the pace, you arrived home in no time, your hand shaking as you attempted to slide the key in the lock. Softly grunting in frustration, you cleared the water from your eyes and focused on the hole, the key finally sliding into place. You quickly opened the door and slid inside, dropping your stuff haphazaly on the floor as you made your way to the couch.

You collapsed on the cushions and continued to cry, your sobs echoing in the empty room. You let it all out, putting your head on your knees as you squeezed your legs, hoping Hyunjin would come home soon.

As if he heard you, the door opened, annoucning that he was finally home.

“Y/n! I’m home!” Hyunjin shouted, the sound of his keys dropping on the hallway table.

“Y/n?” You heard Hyunjin call out again, this time cautiously.

You remained on the couch, not moving or saying anything waiting for Hyunjin to notice you.

“Oh y/n, what’s wrong?” Hyunjin said, his voice barely above a whisper as he rushed to you.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you close, his hand cradling your head into his chest. You gripped his shirt and buried your head in the fabric, breathing in the scent of coffee and Hyunjin, the smell itself comforting. You both sat in silence as Hyunjin rocked you side to side, as he softly hummed. After a while you disentangled yourself from him and leaned back, wiping your eyes in the process.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Hyunjin inquired, his eyes on you as he patiently waited for you to speak.

You’re sure your eyes were red and puffy, but he gazed at you with such tenderness, not caring what you looked like.

“Tiffany and I had a fight…I’m not sure we’re friends anymore. She said some pretty nasty things about me…”

You watched as Hyunjin balled his hands into a fist, his eye twitching as he fumed in anger. You knew Hyunjin never liked Tiffany, calling her a bad influence on you. Deep down you knew he was right, but you had been friends so long with her, you didn’t want to cut ties with her as he suggested.

“You were right about her Hyunjin,” you said as you twiddled your thumbs and looked down at your lap.

“Oh y/n, it’s ok. You only need me yeah?” He said, as he tried to reach for you once more.

You pondered his words, seeking the truth in them. Hyunjin is your everything, has always been. You sniffled and wiped more tears from your eyes. You had no one else in this world, as you were estranged from your parents, your sister. You only had Hyunjin.

“I only need you Hyun,” you agreed, looking him in the eyes.

Hyunjin smiled gingerly at you as he brushed his fingers down your cheek. In that moment, you could feel the dynamic shift between you two as you both came to an understanding. You only needed each other in this world, you only needed to live in this atmosphere that you have both created for yourselves. As long as you both had each other, you’d be alright.

“Do we have enough snacks?” Hyunjin asks, worry etched on his face as his eyes glanced over the various bags full of treats that littered the blanket.

You chuckled at his distress, knowing he needed tons of the salty and sweet treats for the movie.

“Yes love, I think we have enough,” you said as you brushed some of his hair out of his face.

Hyunjin looked up in that moment, his eyes finding yours, a smile gifting his face at your love and tenderness. He felt his heart skip a beat as he took you in, the perfect girlfriend he could ever have.

It’s been a year since that fated day when you both declared that you only needed each other, love laced with each word as you both sealed in your fates. Each day passed the same, your routines not really changing other than the fact you greet him with a kiss when you come home. Hyunjin has cherished each day, engraving each memory deep within the recesses of his brain, never wanting to forget these happy days.

Hyunjin clears his throat and crosses his arms as he pouts, deciding to tease you. “This may be enough…that is if you don’t eat it all angel.”

You giggled and pushed him lightly, his body tipping over and landing on the blanket. “Hey!” He said as he laughed, before righting himself.

“Well, you deserved it!” You said as you grabbed the other blanket and drapped it over your thighs.

You both were at the park, participating in a summer event called movies in the park. Hyunjin had suggested it after seeing an ad on the announcement bulletin board in your apartment complex. You wholeheartedly agreed to going, believing it would be fun. Luckily, you both were able to get that day off from work.

Hyunjin took you to the store and you both piled your cart high with snacks and drinks, giddy with excitement at the outing. He only had to compromise twice, after you begged to get one of your favorite candies, instead of the salty treat he so desperately wanted. It was worth it however when he saw your eyes light up as he agreed to your demands, his cheeks blushing as you placed a soft kiss on the heated flesh.

It was a nice summer night, the kind where the sun warms your skin, but you can enjoy the sensation without sweating, as you breathe in the warm summer air. The park was filled with families and couples, everyone eagerly waiting for the film to begin. It didn’t take long as the sun melted into the horizon, the screen turning on to project the featured film.

Hyunjin pulled you closer, slipping his legs underneath the blanket as well. He smiled as you snuggled against him, grabbing a bag of snacks to munch on as the opening credits began. As the sun went down for good and the stars made an appearance, littering the clear night sky, you both watched the movie enjoying a rare night off together.

Afterwards, you gathered your stuff and made your way home hand in hand. Hyunjin listened as you chattered about the movie, discussing the plot and how you liked it very much. He chattered back with you, equally as invested in the discussion about the movie as you were. You both were yapping so loud that the others who were sharing the sidewalk with you turned to look at you both, their faces in shock.

“Oops,” you giggled as you noticed their stares, “maybe we should tone it down a notch.”

Hyunjin chuckled and squeezed your hand, “maybe so angel.”

You both chattered more quietly the rest of the way, making it back home in record time. Hyunjin locked away this memory, walking home with you on a warm, summer night, after spending a relaxing and fun night with the love of his life.

-- --

Once home, Hyunjin watched as you bustled around the apartment, unwinding from your little outing. He listens as you’re humming a little song, one that sounds familiar, but he can’t quite place where he’s heard it. He loves watching you in these moments, you being you, just for him in this safe space.

Hyunjin feels the need to be close to you so he makes his way over to you and stops you in your tracks as he wraps his arms around you.

“Hyun, what..” You begin until he cups your face as he gazes into your eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers before pressing his lips to yours, sighing as he’s found his home.

Hyunjin lazily kisses you, pulling you closer, smirking against your lips as he listens to you whimper. He drags his hands up your sides before dragging them back down, his fingers gliding over your shirt and leggings until he reaches your ass, gently cupping the flesh in his large hands. He gives it a squeeze before slapping it, chuckling as you let out a yelp.

He drops his smile however as you bring your hand to his bulge and squeezes his semi-hard cock, his eyes finding yours as you smirk back at him.

“Two can play that game Mr. Hwang,” you tease as you stroke him through his pants.

“You little minx,” he murmurs as he captures your lips in a passionate kiss as you continue to palm him.

Suddenly he pulls back and grabs your hand, dragging you to his room that is now both of yours. He pushes you to the bed and climbs on top of you, his hands reaching to strip you of your clothes, tossing them away as quickly as possible. He needs to see you, feel you bare beneath him, engrave your beautiful body to his memory once more.

He unclapses your bra, your breasts spilling out as he removes the garment, his eyes glued to your hardening nipples. He licks his lips as he finds the waistband of your panties and drags them down your legs, a groan leaving his lips as he notices your soaked as a string of your slick connects your panties to your pussy.

Hyunjin proceeds with removing his clothes, feeling the relief as he rock hard cock is finally free of the restricting garments. Once you both are bare for each other, there’s a moment of silence as you take each other in, in awe of each other’s raw beauty as if it’s your first time. Hyunjin’s cock twitches as you blush, squeezing your thighs together in embarrassment at his gaze, his ears perking up as he hears you quietly whimper.

His hands reach out and cup your breasts, his fingers ghosting over your nipples just how you like, the feather light touch causing you to moan and arch into his touch seeking more stimulation. He continues to tease the buds, not fully applying pressure as he knows you like the soft touches he gives your breasts.

“Hyun…love,” you whimper as you cant your hips towards him, your eyes glued to his leaking cock.

“Ok angel, bear with me yeah?” He cooes as he continues to touch you, his fingertips barely touching your skin.

He draws invisible patterns on your skin, his eyes glued to your rising and falling chest as you try to regulate your breathing, lost in his touch. Hyunjin watches as your hands grasps your breasts and play with them as he continues to torture you. He eventually reaches your thighs as he gently rubs circles on the flesh.

Deeming your ready, he parts your legs baring your glistening pussy to his eyes. He loves that he gets you so wet and needy, your folds just begging for him to touch them. And touch them he does as he drags a finger down the puffy folds, your body shuttering at his touch.

He takes his time as he buries his fingers between your folds, easily finding your clit. He applies gentle pressure to your bundle of nerves, bringing you to your high slowly but steadily. He listens to your moans, as he continues to pleasure you, the sound music to his ears. He knows you’re close as he’s very attuned to your body. Withdrawing his hand, he chuckles as you let out a whine, your eyes wide and on him.

“Want you to cum around me angel,” Hyunjin says as he grasps his cock, stroking the shaft a few times to coat it in his pre-cum.

He brings the tip to your entrance and lightly pushes in, your walls sucking him in instantly. He continues to push his length in until he bottoms out, your walls fluttering around his cock as he stills to let you adjust.

“Move, please move,” you beg as you wiggle your hips, attempting to fuck yourself on his cock.

Hyunjin smiles as he places his hands underneath your thighs, holding your legs open as he begins to thrust within you, his cock easily sliding in and out of your walls. He lets out a whimper as he feels your warmth engulf him again and again, your little hole stretching perfectly around him like you were made for his cock.

He’s not going to last long, always feeling overwhelmed once he’s inside you. What would normally embarrass most, he doesn’t mind and he knows you don’t either as you know he’s going to take care of you, make sure you reach your high.

“Touch yourself angel, touch your clit for me yeah?” Hyunjin begs as he feels his orgasm approaching.

He groans as you bring two fingers to your clit and rub, your wrist keeping in time to his thrusts. His tongue lolls out as he glues his eyes to your pussy and how wet it is, a mixture of your slick and his sweat coating the puffy flesh and dripping down your ass. Your fingers slip and slid, little whines leaving your mouth as your fingers slip off the bud. You quickly replace them however chasing after your high so you can come with your lover.

Hyunjin’s breath hitches as he feels you clench around him, his balls tightening within as he lets go in a flurry of loud moans, his cum painting your walls white and sliding out around his cock. His eyes meet yours as you let go, as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you arch your back as your walls rhythmically clench around his cock over and over. He gently fucks you through your high, pushing his cum back into your pussy.

As you take a stuttering breath, your eyes match his, as you clench around his cock one last time. Hyunjin softly moans before leaning down to capture your lips in a loving kiss, your lips moving together sweetly.

Hyunjin gets up and withdraws his softened cock, clucking his tongue at the sight of his cum leaking steadily from your pussy. He has to tear his eyes away in order to clean you up. Once you’re both clean, he pulls you under the blankets, cuddling you to his chest.

You both lay there breathing in tandem, sleep slowly taking over your bodies. Hyunjin logs away the feel of your soft, warm skin underneath his fingertips as he lazily drags them up and down your back. He memorizes the dips and turns of your body, mesmerized with your beauty as always. As he closes his eyes, he begins to dream of you and the eternity he plans to spend with you.

The next morning, you awake, feeling refreshed after last nights love making and a good nights rest. You look up to see Hyunjin sprawled out on his back, his chest softly rising and falling as he slumbers. As you stare at your lover, an idea comes to mind and as you glance at the clock, you notice you have a little time before you have to get up to go to your second job.

You carefully scoot closer to Hyunjin, careful not to wake him up. He has kicked off the blankets at some point during the night, leaving him uncovered. Your eyes go to the bulge in his boxers, already semi-erect. You gently palmed his cock, your eyes glued to his face to ensure he doesn’t wake up.

You smile as he doesn’t move, but continues to softly snore. You reach into the crotch of the fabric and pull out his cock, your eyes feasting on how how red and angry the head is, as drops of pre-cum drip down and coat his shaft and your hand.

You shuffle onto your knees and lean down to take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the head. You press your tongue into his slit and then stop for a moment as Hyunjin moans above you, the sound short but audible. You wait a few seconds more before suckling the head as you stroke his shaft, savoring the salty taste of him on your tastebuds.

As Hyunjin slightly jerks in his sleep, you take more of him down your throat and bob your head in earnest, taking him to the base each time, the little hairs adorning his pelvis tickling your nose. You continue to pleasure your lover, alternating between suckling the head and deep throating him, awaiting the moment he realizes the pleasure he’s feeling is not a dream.

It doesn’t take much longer for him to wake up, his hands gripping your hair your sign he’s fully awake.

“Y/n…ah!” He mumbles, his voice deep as it’s laced with sleep.

You hum around him before increasing your pace, wanting him to come down your throat. You clench your thighs together as Hyunjin moaned and thrusted his hips upwards as he fucked your mouth gently. You grasped his balls in your hands and began to fondle them.

“Mmm close angel, don’t stop,” Hyunjin whimpered.

As you licked up his shaft and then swirled your tongue around him once more, Hyunjin grasped your head and pushed it down, forcing you to take him to the hilt, the tip of his cock kissing the back of your throat. He let out a loud groan as he came, spurt after spurt of his cum filling your mouth. You withdrew as he took a shaky breath, his hooded eyes set on you as you swallowed his cum, licking your lips afterwards ensuring not to waste any that may have dribbled out.

“Such a good girl for me,” Hyunjin murmured as he gave you a smile, his hands reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “Why don’t I return the favor? You have to work this morning right? How about I join you in the shower?”

You couldn’t say no to such an offer as you were dripping, your slick coating your panties causing them to stick uncomfortably to your skin. You’d be killing two birds with one stone too. You giggled as leaped out of bed, grabbing your lovers hands to pull him after you to take care of both of your needs before your shift.

As you entered the lab, you put your phone on silent so as to not have any distractions while working. Your second job was in a research lab at the local hospital. You enjoyed this job as well, the prospect of making strides in the scientific world giving you a thrill.

You pulled out your supplies, grabbing your agar plates from the incubator and settled in. You decided to play some music to pass the time away since you had the lab to yourself today. Getting lost in your work, your fell into the familiar routine of extracting cells, mixing them with solutions, and spinning them down, all to prepare them to extract the DNA.

However, you were so into it, that you accidentally knocked over a bottle that was laying on the counter, the clear liquid spilling all over the counter and you. You shrieked at the feeling, quickly picking up the bottle to stop more of the liquid from dripping onto the tabletop.

You noticed the bottle didn’t have a label, so you had no clue what was inside. Your skin wasn’t burning which you thought was a good thing. You quickly made your way to the wash station, and turned on the water, dousing your arms underneath the stream to get the strange liquid off.

You stayed there for ten minutes before you deemed it okay to stop. Turning off the water, you dried off your arms. Satisfied, you went back to work, picking up where you left off before the accident. The day continued, time flying by quickly as you made progress in your project. As mid day rolled around, you decided to call it quits.

After cleaning up your space and properly storing your specimens, you packed up your bag and left, making your way back home. The apartment would be empty as you got back, as Hyunjin would have already left for work.

Once at home, you changed clothes and decided to read, wanting to have a chill afternoon after your busy morning. As you were settling in, rain began to spatter against your window, the pitter patter soothing to your ears. Your eyes began to droop, slowly but surely until you succumbed to sleep, your book falling from your hands. -- -- “Who are you!?”

You awoke with a start, your eyes wide as you thought an intruder had entered your home. Blinking away the sleep, you focused your eyes to the man in front of you. Standing in front of you was…wait…it was Hyunjin. Why was he asking you who you were? You were y/n, his girlfriend, his best friend in the world.

“Hyun, it’s me…” you said incredulously.

Hyunjin stared at you for a moment, blinking his eyes slowly. After a while, there was a look of recognition on his face.

“Y/n? What just happened?”

You stared back at Hyunjin confused. “You just asked who I was.”

“I did? Why would I do that? I know who you are,” Hyunjin said as he sat down next to you.

You sat there in shock, confused as to what just happened. You could tell he meant what he said, his face telling it all that he had no clue who you were. As strange as it were, you decided to let it go. You latched onto his arm and snuggled into him, sighing at the comfort the warmth of his body brings.

As the night went on, your mind kept wandering to the night’s events, confused as to what transpired. A part of you thought you should have continued to question Hyunjin, ask him why he thought he didn’t know you. As you tossed and turned in bed, you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that lingered as you tried to fall asleep.

Time passed and with each day, stranger things occurred. Over the last few months, Hyunjin has forgotten your birthday, your favorite foods, even your favorite books which you constantly talk about. He always claims he’s not sure what has happened, confusion laced on his face as he ponders why he forgot that information. He’s also forgotten who you were a few more times, but he always recovers and remembers a little while later.

As you were getting ready for work, your mind was a nervous wreck as you considered every possibility as to why he’s forgetting the little things about you and your relationship. You walked to your bathroom to do your makeup when you looked in the mirror. You yelped at your reflection, your eyes widened in horror.

You were there, but your skin seemed to have faded a little, a small outline of your body seeming to glow in the light, almost like an aura. You touched your arm, sighing in relief as you could still felt solid.

What the hell is going on? Are you imagining things? That has to be it, yes. You continued your morning routine, convinced that it was all a hallucination since you hadn’t had your morning coffee yet.

Later, as you entered the kitchen, you found Hyunjin sitting down on the couch, his sketch book in his lap. You stopped in your tracks, confused as this was the first time you worked an early morning shift and Hyunjin had not cooked you breakfast. Even though he didn’t owe you the meal, you still found it kind of odd that he would break his usual routine.

“Love?” You questioned as you entered the living room.

Hyunjin snapped his head up in shock, some coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug and onto his clothes.

“Shit, what?” He asked, his face scrunched up in annoyance at the interruption and spill.

“Oh, nothing, I’m just going to go to work now,” you said quietly, his outburst shocking you.

Hyunjin never snaps at you, he's always gentle and considerate of your feelings. So his actions this morning have definitely shaken you up. You try not to linger on the feeling as you get to work. You immerse yourself in your books, helping out the various customers that come in throughout the day. You only hope that Hyunjin would have calmed down by the time you got home.

Hyunjin felt off. Something wasn’t right and he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knows it has something to do with your relationship, but he can never remember what it is. He spends his days frustrated as he forgets your name, your favorite book, or even your daily routine. He doesn’t understand why it’s occurring as he lives for you, breathes for you.

He can see the hurt in your eyes each time it occurs, how dejected you feel when he snaps at you once again. He doesn’t mean to, he just doesn’t know what else to do or say when these events occur.

He decides to make an effort to not forget, to focus hard to remember, to turn this whole mess around as quick as possible. Hyunjin looks up eagerly as you walk through the door, arriving home after work. You seem tired and run down, your skin dull and lackluster but also a little translucent.

He comes to the conclusion that you’re getting sick and decides to help nurse you back to health.

“Hey, welcome home angel. You look exhausted, let’s get you in a bath yeah?”

You shake your head yes gratefully and let him guide you to your bathroom. He busies himself with preparing the bath, making sure the water is the right temperature, that he fills the tub with your favorite bubble bath. He throws in some bath salts as well before deeming the bath satisfactory.

“Alright angel, let’s get in.” Hyunjin ties his hair up and strips and gets in the bath first.

You follow right behind him, the water slowly rising as you settle in between his legs. However, as you lay back against his chest, he’s not met with your solid body, but yet a more squishy feeling, almost like your skin is moving against him.

He’s startled to say the least, confused as to how you can feel this way. He reaches to grab your arm and is barely able to hold on.

“Angel, what…” he asks, not finishing his question as he’s not sure what to ask anymore.

“I’m not sure Hyunjin,” you sob as you breakdown. “I’m slowly fading and I have no idea why. I think it’s why you forget who I am at times and things about me.”

Hyunjin feels a pang in his heart as you cry, wishing he could wrap his arms around you, feel you as he has in the past. He attempts to comfort you, frustrated that your skin moves underneath his hands. He’s not sure what to make of the situation, but what you have proposed makes sense.

“How did this happen?” He asks quietly as you continue to sniffle.

“M’not sure,” you whimper. “What if you forget me forever? “

Your body shakes as your wracked with fresh sobs, your anguish echoing throughout the bathroom.

“I could never forget you angel, never.” Hyunjin says.

He really won’t, how could he as you’re the love of his life. If he has to write your name down everyday, he will, whatever he has to do to remember you, he will do it. He will help you through this no matter what.

Hyunjin says he won’t forget you, but you know it’s inevitable. You’ve faded away even more now, so much so that you can’t leave the house, scared others around you will think you’re a ghost. You spend your days at home, curled up within a blanket as you stare blankly at the tv.

You’ve made a link to the spill of the strange liquid at the lab to what has been happening to you for almost half a year now. Whatever it was must be altering the atoms of your body, slowly allowing them to spread, causing you to fade away.

You barely lift your head as Hyunjin walks in the house, as he walks right past you without giving you another glance. You wait a full two hours before he notices you, recognition and then shame gracing his face at his mistake.

He walks over to you and leans down to kiss you, but he is met with air. You begin to cry, leaning away quickly at the realization that you will never be able to feel Hyunjin’s lips on yours, his hands on your body, his warmth. You can see the sadness in his eyes as he realizes the same thing.

Hyunjin sighs and walks away, locking himself in his bedroom. You don’t see him for the rest of the night, which leaves you heartbroken. You make your way to your room to go to bed, as you consider today another disappointment.

Hyunjin wakes up, the sun is shining brightly through his window, promising another good day. He sits up and stretches, enjoying the pull on his muscles. He gets up to start his morning routine as he works the morning shift today.

He hums a little song as he washes up, dresses himself and then makes his way to the kitchen. He busies himself making breakfast, the familiar routine comforting. Once he’s done, he sits down to eat, humming at the taste of the food as he scarfs it down.

After the last bite, he takes his plate to the sink and dumps it. Grabbing his wallet and keys he leaves for work, shutting the door behind him.

His day passes without incident, the coffee shop bustling with customers as always. He decides he will sketch when he gets home, needing to finish his projects before the deadline for the art school he wants to apply to.

His boss lets him go earlier which is a godsend to Hyunjin as he can make it home before the rain decides to fall, blanketing the roads with puddles and mud. Once he arrives home, he quickly changes and grabs some juice before sitting down on the couch.

Pressing play on a little remote, soft music drifts through the room, blanketing his world with the sound of piano keys, perfect for his afternoon of sketching. He grabs his sketch book and opens it, the book falling open to some sketches he’s already completed.

He stares down at the woman on the page, her features beautiful and breathtaking. As he gazes at sketch after sketch, he feels as if he’s forgetting something or forgetting someone. Every time he gets close to the answer, it slips away, like silk slipping through his fingers.

Hyunjin can’t remember who the woman is in the sketch, but he’s glad he’s thought of them, wanting to include them in his portfolio. As he picks up his pencil once more, he begins to draw, his hands traveling around the page with practiced ease and familiarity. He focuses hard, needing the details to be just right.

As he finishes, he sets his pencil down, and glances at his sketch. He has sketched the woman again, the woman who seems to plague his subconscious. He gets the nagging feeling that he knows the woman but can’t recall why or where he knows her from.

Despite this, he has captured your beauty, your perfect features in great detail, immortalized forever all within the pages of his beloved sketchbook.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids x you #stray kids

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year ago

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Day 11: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism - Winter Soldier

Summary: Home alone, you think it's safe to have some 'special time', but unbeknown to you, he's there, always watching and admiring.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content, stalker!winter soldier, masturbation, sex toys, loneliness, exhibitionism, voyeurism

masterlist 📚

kinktober masterlist😈

AO3 Link

Being the adoptive daughter of the infamous Alexander Pierce wasn’t always as exciting and full of potential danger as you’d expect. For the most part, you are confined to your heavily guarded home 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Despite being an adult and wanting to live your own life, your father deemed it too dangerous that you could be captured and used for ransom.

Throughout your life, you’d never even seen one second of action or risk, and some would say that just means your father has protected you to the best of his abilities. There is a point, however, where you need something exciting in your life even though there are only limited ways to get any thrill.

This usually occurred when you were home alone, like tonight. Bored out of your mind whilst watching the TV attached to the wall in the living room, your dad walked past, clicking a button on his phone before tying his show lace. Glancing at the time on your phone, you assumed he was going to work, considering it was so late; you knew better than to ask him what was wrong to demand his time.

Walking over, your dad briefly paused to lean down and kiss your forehead, pretending he cared, but there was nothing Alexander Pierce truly loved more than Hydra. He didn’t even need to say that he was leaving as your dad prepared to leave, assuming you had caught on to his gathering of stuff that he would be going, but before he could step out of the door, you shouted in his direction, “Am I expecting company tonight?”

Your Dad knew who you were referring to. The Winter Soldier. The assassin whom you’d met on numerous occasions tended to turn up unannounced to your home in search of your father to debrief or receive new orders, so you made sure to ask regarding his whereabouts so that you could be prepared for a midnight visit.

“No, he’s a couple of states away on a mission and not due to be back for another few days. I’ll lock up on my way out; don’t wait up for me”. Without another look or even an ‘I love you’, Alexander Pierce left out of the front door, and the sound of the shutters around the windows started to descend, and the thick locks on all doors clicked into place.

You were locked in, and as soon as the metal stopped creaking and you knew your dad’s car had driven off, you sighed in sweet relief at finally being home alone. It was almost like an automatic reaction for your body to become horny as soon as you were locked in, knowing that no one would interrupt and you had free reign to do whatever you pleased, which would always be masturbation.

Turning up the TV loud so you could hear it from your bedroom and not feel as alone, you changed your clothing to just an oversized shirt and nothing more, selecting which vibrator you wanted from the box beneath your bed. Today was going to be the purple bullet vibrator and then returned to the living room.

This was one of the only places where you could feel any sort of rebellion or thrill. Yes, you could and do masturbate in your bedroom just like anyone else would, but being able to do it in technically a public space gave you little bursts of adrenaline. If your father returned home, you’d be able to hear the security system unlocking, but it was also an area that was supposed to be where everyone gathered and had family time. This didn’t refer to your home, though, as you were the only person to use the living area as your father was either in his office, the gym or not home at all.

Lying down on the soft couch, your head nestling into the decorative pillow, you tried to focus your mind into the horny zone. The excitement you anticipated hit you in your gut as you lifted your shirt until it rested over your collarbones to reveal your nude body.

As the chilled breeze ghosted over your skin, it caused a ripple effect of goosebumps to shiver over you, nipples hardening, which sparked pleasure to build in your abdomen and moisture to slick at your entrance. Closing your eyes, your fingers teased over your breasts, imagining they were someone else's hands, exploring the fresh and finding where you were most sensitive.

Pinching your nipples gently, you released a soft sigh as another hand drifted down to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Biting your lip, your knees separated to allow your fingers to collect some of the juices that had leaked from your hole and then spread it over your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in circles.

You were entirely in the zone, feeling increasingly more aroused with breathy moans and whimpers escaping your open mouth each second. This was your favourite place to be, hot and bothered, getting yourself off to feel your cunt pulsing around two of your fingers.

Then you were pressing the vibrator against your clit with two fingers delved into your warmth, curling and pressing on the spot that had your back arching and breaths hitching.

Everything was building, like an orchestra reaching its crescendo, approaching the peak of no return and complete euphoria. Then, the sensation rushed over you. Not the pleasant orgasmic blissful shiver but a haunting, the hairs standing on end over your arms and the back of your neck with unease. It felt like someone was watching you, but that wasn’t the case; the building was locked down, and the security cameras didn't point in this direction.

Your eyes opened on instinct, and fear, horror and dread pulsed through your stomach as you screamed, closing your legs and rushing to stand and cover your body with your shirt. Your knees buckled from the lasting effects of getting yourself off, but you clung to the arm of the couch whilst trying to turn off the vibrator.

It felt like your heart had moved to your throat, with the fear of throwing up and passing out at the same time taking over as you stared unblinking at the man currently sitting in the armchair next to the couch you’d been masturbating on. He was sitting as still as a statute, head to toe, in his tactical gear, even the mask.

“Soldier?” your voice reverberates off the walls you’ve shouted that loud. All it earned you was a tilt of his head to the side, but he didn’t say a single word, so you continued to shout, even though you knew you should have remained calm around someone as dangerous as him. “What the fuck are you doing here? You should have knocked or- something! How did you even get in here?!”

He simply sat there, staring at you with deep blue eyes, his long hair framing his face, his deadly hands resting on the arms of the chair, acting casually like he hadn’t just been sitting there as you feverishly masturbated naked in front of him. The more time passed, the worse your tremors became, almost like you were vibrating with anxiety.

It wasn’t uncommon for the Winter Soldier to not knock when he came to the house however usually your father was present or he’d been anticipated but for him to somehow get in when the house was on lockdown and not be expected, it had you on edge.

“Why didn’t you announce yourself, Soldier?” you tried to sound confident and not fearful, but your voice cracked on the last word, which gave away your anxiety. Your thoughts were going around and around in your head; how long had he been there? How did you not even hear him walking into the room?

The Assets head tilted to the other right, his eyes remaining focused only on your face as he finally began to talk in his low, drawled voice, “Why did you stop?”

Your eyes widened in shock briefly before trying to regain control, “What did you say?”

“You don’t usually stop. Why did you stop now?”

Your heart seemed to stop at this question. Swallowing the thick glob of spit in your mouth, you asked, “What do you mean usually? Have... have you seen me doing this before?”

He nods slowly, and you want to vomit immediately. Closing your eyes briefly, you tried to take a deep breath, hoping it would give you some composure. Maybe this was karma working her evil magic on you, you had decided, for having a kink with being caught, which is why you masturbated in the living room. Why on earth were you now upset when you’d actually been caught?

Sighing and rubbing both hands over your face, ignoring that they were still slightly wet from earlier, you tried to explain to the assassin, “You know, it’s not normal to watch people during intimate times like this. You’re supposed to announce yourself or something”.

“But you look at peace when you do it”, he says in the same emotionless voice. His words catch you off guard, but he continues, “You didn’t finish today like you usually do”.

The way he spoke about what you were doing, you weren’t even sure he knew what it was or the consequences of your actions. You knew his history, who he was and how they controlled him. Did he even know what sex was with all the times his mind had been wiped? He wasn’t acting like a creep, even if he had snuck in to watch you masturbate and clearly had watched it several times before. If he was going to hurt you, he would have done so by now, so tentatively, you sat back onto the couch, still pulling the bottom of your shirt lower over your legs and hiding the vibrator beneath your thigh.

“I didn’t finish like the other times because I didn’t know you were watching; it can make people uncomfortable knowing someone is watching them”.

“Does it make you uncomfortable that you know I’m watching?” his tone lowered with the question he was asking.

“Yes! I don’t want people to watch me do this, and what if my Dad finds out? What if you tell him what I’ve been doing?”

Bucky finally showed some emotion as he frowned in confusion, “Why would I tell your father about this? It has nothing to do with the mission? I like watching you because you seem to enjoy it; isn’t that a good thing?”

He seemed so innocent in his questioning. “Just so I’m getting this right, are you expecting me to continue?” The soldier nods yes in an answer as you release a long breath. “If I say no, will you kill me?” This time, he shakes his head, giving you the answer no, which did little to alleviate the nerves catapulting through you.

Standing up from the couch whilst clutching the vibrator, you rushed towards your bedroom, intending to hide the sex toy and lock yourself in so that you didn’t have to sit looking at the soldier anymore. However, as you stood before the door, you thought it over more. If he’d been watching you all of this time, then what’s the difference with him being here now? He could overpower you any time he wanted, and he didn't want any pleasure back; otherwise, he would have made advances before.

This whole situation came about because you liked the thought of being watched or caught, so why were you running away from that scenario? Having made up your mind, you returned to the living room, where the Soldier hadn’t moved even a strand of hair since you’d left in a hurry.

Sitting back on the couch, your eyes remained everywhere but on him. In fact, as you led back down, you closed your eyes with the hopes that not being able to see him would help to calm the pounding of your nervous heart.

Your nipples were still hard, so you pressed on them through your shirt with trembling fingers, not quite believing you were in this situation. The wetness from your earlier escapades was still evident over your thighs, which you sept firmly closed. Biting your lower lip until it hurt, you kept stimulating your nipples by rubbing the peaks around in circles before pinching them to elicit more of a reaction between your legs.

It worked after a couple of minutes as your muscles lost the tension and melted into the cushions further. Eventually, your thighs were spreading as you tried to only think about that orgasm that had been so very close to pleasuring your body but had quickly disappeared from the soldier's appearance.

With your legs now parted and cunt on full displaying, facing the Asset at the end of the couch, you turned the vibrator on, deciding to go straight for the toy this time rather than playing around first. Pressing the device just above your clit, you released a breathy moan, thighs shaking with the increased delight.

This time, your body heated to the point of sweat, and your face hot to the touch because no matter how much you tried to think of anything else, it always came back to the man sitting near you. With your hips jolting and rolling to push against the vibrator, your fingers moved the shirt further up your stomach, revealing your navel and breasts so you could rub and play with them without restriction.

Then, to both your horror and delight, the Winter Solider flashed into your mind, but this time, it was him hovering above you, using his gloved hands to press against your nipples. Your moans increased in volume, back arching with this thought as you begged your mind to continue this naughty thought.

Releasing your breast, your hand trailed down your body, tickling the delicate skin before dipping past your clit and two fingers into your drenched cunt. You were sure he had thicker fingers than you, but the thought of him between your legs, curling them right into that beautiful spot, his other hand holding the vibrator to your clit, had you whithering around on the couch.

Your pussy clenched harshly around your fingers, trying to draw them deeper, needing their fullness. You weren’t sure when it was, but at some point, your eyes opened so that you could look directly at the man in question, who still had failed to move from his seat in the armchair. You weren’t looking at his body thought; you were looking at those sparking blue eyes partially hidden beneath his hair as they continued to look at just your face like he only wanted to see the pleasure you displayed rather than just touching yourself.

“Oh god”, you groan aloud to these thoughts, legs spreading further open and half-flopping off the couch as you curl your fingers faster and harder. You wished it was his fingers touching you, getting you off and bringing you close to the point of orgasming. The vibrator stroked back and forth against your throbbing clit, and that was all the additional stimulation you needed to reach your peak.

Your eyes finally closed once more as you came hard, body shaking and curling in on yourself with each pulse of your pussy around your fingers. You hadn’t orgasmed that hard in months, so it took you a couple of minutes to try and catch your breath and come out of the buzzing created by the euphoria.

Now what? You thought whilst turning off the vibrator entirely and leaving the two of you in complete silence. The assassins still hadn’t moved, and for a brief second, you thought of his arousal. Could he even be turned on? Was that a function the scientists allowed him to keep while brainwashed? Was he watching you enough to turn him on?

The thought was swiftly pushed out of your mind as you realised he was the fucking Winter Soldier, the highest-trained assassin who was also 70+ years old; this was probably last on his list of things to be worried about. Sitting up whilst covering your body with your t-shirt once more, you struggled to think what to say or do.

“Do you want me to call my Dad to tell him you’re here for a debrief?” From the corner of your eye, the Asset nodded. You stood to take the call in your bedroom, but as you stood, your eyes briefly looked at him more clearly and noticed that he very evidently had an erection with the way his tactical gear was tented at the crotch. For some reason, this made you feel relieved that he had been turned on by what you saw, and it wasn’t just a one-way situation.

Standing and walking into your bedroom, you collapsed onto the bed with your phone raised to your ear.

Your dad answered immediately with a stern tone, “Yes?”

“Uh hey, Dad, just to let you know, the Soldier’s here”.

“What?” came Alexander Pierces’ concerned voice through the mobile.

“Yeah, he just turned up a couple of minutes ago in the living room”.

“Well, tell him to get back to the compound. I won’t be home tonight, so he needs to come here”.

Finishing the conversation with him, you stood to tell the Soldier his orders but found him nowhere in the building, not in the living room, kitchen or even by the front door. He had simply vanished, and what's more, the alarm was still in place, which meant he had a way of getting in and out of your home without triggering the alarm, which you were sure if it terrified or excited you.

#Winter soldier #bucky barnes #bucky #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mine*

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 10 months ago

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By: Beth Bourne

Published: Feb 27, 2024

Kaiser gender specialists were eager to approve hormones and surgeries, which would all be covered by insurance as “medically necessary.”

On September 6, 2022, I received mail from my Kaiser Permanente Davis Ob-Gyn reminding me of a routine cervical screening. The language of the reminder stood out to me: “Recommended for people with a cervix ages 21 to 65.” When I asked my Ob-Gyn about this strange wording, she told me the wording was chosen to be “inclusive” of their “transgender” and “gender fluid” patients.

Based on this response, several thoughts occurred to me. Could I expose the medical scandal of “gender-affirming care” by saying and doing everything my daughter and other trans-identifying kids are taught to do? Would there be the type of medical safeguarding and differential diagnosis we would expect in other fields of medicine, or would I simply be allowed to self-diagnose and be offered the tools (i.e. hormones and surgeries) to choose my own gender adventure and become my true authentic self?

If I could demonstrate that anyone suffering from delusions of their sex, self-hatred, or identity issues could qualify for and easily obtain body-altering hormones and surgeries, all covered by insurance as “medically necessary” and potentially “life-saving” care, then maybe people would finally wake up. I certainly had.

I was prepared for failure. I wasn’t prepared for how easy success would be.

* * *

I am a 53-year-old mom from Davis, CA. My daughter began identifying as a transgender boy (social transition) and using he/him pronouns at school during 8th grade. Like several of her peers who also identified as trans at her school, my daughter was a gifted student and intellectually mature but socially immature. This shift coincided with her school’s sudden commitment to, and celebration of, a now widespread set of radical beliefs about the biology of sex and gender identity.

She “came out” as trans to her father (my ex-husband) and me through a standard coming-out letter, expressing her wish to start puberty blockers. She said she knew they were safe, citing information she had read from Planned Parenthood and the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH). To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was also confused because this announcement was sudden and unexpected. While others quickly accepted and affirmed my daughter’s new identity, I was apprehensive and felt the need to learn more about what was going on.

Events began escalating quickly.

During a routine doctor’s visit scheduled for dizziness my daughter said that she was experiencing, the Kaiser pediatrician overheard her father using “he/him” pronouns for our daughter. The pediatrician seemed thrilled, quickly asking my daughter about her “preferred pronouns” and updating her medical records to denote that my daughter was now, in fact, my son. The pediatrician then recommended we consult the Kaiser Permanente Oakland Proud pediatric gender clinic, where she could get further information and (gender affirming) “treatment.” Now I was the one feeling dizzy.

As I began educating myself on this issue, I discovered that this phenomenon—minors, most often teen girls, suddenly adopting trans identities—was becoming increasingly widespread. It even had a name: rapid onset gender dysphoria, or ROGD. Thankfully, after learning about the potential side-effects of blockers and hormones, my ex-husband and I managed to agree not to consent to any medical interventions for our daughter until she turned 18 and would then be able to make such decisions as an adult.

Over the past five years, my daughter’s identity has slowly evolved in ways that I see as positive. Our bond, however, has become strained, particularly since I began publicly voicing my concerns about what many term as “gender ideology.” Following my daughter’s 17th birthday family celebration, she sent me an email that evening stating she would be cutting off contact with me.

While this estrangement brought me sorrow, with my daughter living full-time with her father, it also gave me the space to be an advocate/activist in pushing back on gender identity ideology in the schools and the medical industry.

I decided to go undercover as a nonbinary patient to show my daughter what danger she might be putting herself in—by people who purport to have her health as their interest, but whose main interest is in medically “affirming” (i.e., transitioning) whoever walks through their door. I am at heart a mother protecting her child.

* * *

My daughter’s sudden decision to become a boy was heavily on my mind in early September of 2022, when mail from my Kaiser Permanente Davis Ob-Gyn reminded me of a routine cervical screening with “Recommended for people with a cervix ages 21 to 65.” I was told that the wording was chosen to be “inclusive” of transgender and “gender fluid” patients.

Throughout the whole 231-day process of my feigned gender transition, the Kaiser gender specialists were eager to serve me and give me what I wanted, which would all be covered by insurance as “medically necessary.” My emails were returned quickly, my appointments scheduled efficiently, and I never fell through the cracks. I was helped along every step of the way.

Despite gender activists and clinicians constantly claiming that obtaining hormones and surgeries is a long and complex process with plenty of safety checks in place, I was in full control at every checkpoint. I was able to self-diagnose, determine how strong a dose of testosterone I received and which surgeries I wanted to pursue, no matter how extreme and no matter how many glaring red flags I purposefully dropped. The medical workers I met repeatedly reminded me that they were not there to act as “gatekeepers.”

I was able to instantly change my medical records to reflect my new gender identity and pronouns. Despite never being diagnosed with gender dysphoria, I was able to obtain a prescription for testosterone and approval for a “gender-affirming” double mastectomy from my doctor. It took only three more months (90 days) to be approved for surgery to remove my uterus and have a fake penis constructed from the skin of my thigh or forearm. Therapy was never recommended.

Critics might dismiss my story as insignificant on the grounds that I am a 53-year-old woman with ample life experience who should be free to alter her body. However, this argument for adult bodily autonomy is a standard we apply to purely cosmetic procedures like breast implants, liposuction, and facelifts, not “medically necessary” and “lifesaving” treatments covered by health insurance. Or interventions that compromise health and introduce illness into an otherwise healthy body. And especially not for children.

My story, which I outline in much more detail below, should convince any half-rational person that gender medicine is not operating like any other field of medicine. Based on a radical concept of “gender identity,” this medical anomaly preys upon the body-image insecurities common among pubescent minors to bill health insurance companies for permanent cosmetic procedures that often leave their patients with permanently altered bodies, damaged endocrine systems, sexual dysfunction, and infertility.

* * *

Detailed Timeline of Events

On October 6, 2022, I responded to my Ob-Gyn’s email to tell her that, after some thought, I’d decided that maybe the label “cis woman” didn’t truly reflect who I was. After all, I did have some tomboyish tendencies. I told her I would like my records to be changed to reflect my newly realized “nonbinary” identity, and that my new pronouns were they/them. I also voiced my desire to be put in touch with an endocrinologist to discuss starting testosterone treatment.

Fifteen minutes later I received an email from another Kaiser doctor informing me that my medical records had been changed, and that once my primary doctor returned to the office, I’d be able to speak with her about hormone therapy.

I responded the following day (October 7, 2022), thanking her for changing my records, and asking if she could connect me with someone who could help me make an appointment for “top surgery” (i.e., a cosmetic double mastectomy) because my chest binder was rather “uncomfortable after long days and playing tennis.”

She told me to contact my primary care MD to “get things rolling,” and that there were likely to be “preliminary evaluations.”

Six days after contacting my primary care MD for a referral, I received an email from one of Kaiser’s gender specialists asking me to schedule a phone appointment so she could better understand my goals for surgery, so that I could get “connected to care.” This call to review my “gender affirming treatment options and services” would take 15-20 minutes, after which I would be “booked for intake,” allowing me to proceed with medical transition.

This wasn’t an evaluation of whether surgical transition was appropriate, it was simply a meeting for me to tell them what I wanted so that they could provide it.

On October 18, I had my one and only in-person appointment in preparation for top surgery. I met in Davis with my primary care physician, Dr. Hong-wen Xue. The assessment was a 10-minute routine physical exam that included blood tests. Everything came back normal. Notably, there was not a single question about why I wanted top surgery or cross-sex hormones. Nor was there any discussion of the risks involved with these medical treatments.

The following week, on October 24, I had a phone appointment with Rachaell Wood, MFT, a gender specialist with Kaiser Sacramento. The call lasted 15 minutes and consisted of standard questions about potential drug use, domestic violence, guns in the house, and whether I experienced any suicidal thoughts. There were no questions from the gender specialist about my reasons for requesting a mastectomy or cross-sex hormones, or why I suddenly, at 52, decided I was “nonbinary.”

After the call, Kaiser emailed me instructions about how to prepare for my pre-surgery intake video appointment to evaluate my mental health, scheduled to take place on November 15. The email stated that prior to my appointment, I should research hormone risks on the WPATH website, and to “research bilateral mastectomy and chest reconstruction surgery risks and recovery” on Kaiser’s website.

I decided to request a “gender-affirming” double mastectomy and phalloplasty. Kaiser sent me a sample timeline for gender transition surgery preparation (see below) that you can use as a reference for the process. I also asked for a prescription for cross-sex hormones (testosterone) as needed and recommended by Kaiser.

[ Source: Kaiser Permanente, Top Surgery - EXPLORING YOUR SURGICAL OPTIONS ]

Pre-Surgery Mental Health Video Appointment, Part I

This “Mental Health Visit” assessment was conducted over Zoom. The Kaiser gender specialist started with questions addressing my marital status, race, gender identity, and other demographics. She asked whether I was “thinking of any other surgeries, treatments in the future.” The list she read included “gender-affirming” hysterectomies, bottom surgeries such as metoidioplasty and phalloplasty, vocal coaching, support groups, and body contouring. “Anything else you might be interested in doing?” she asked. I said that I’d perhaps be interested in body contouring. I was also assured that all the procedures would be covered by insurance because they were considered “medically necessary.”

I dropped in several red flags regarding my mental health to see the reaction, but all were ignored. For instance, I revealed that I had PTSD. When the therapist asked me about whether I had experienced any “childhood trauma,” I explained that I grew up in Mexico City and had been groped several times and had also witnessed men masturbating in public and had been grabbed by men in subways and buses. “I was a young girl, so [I had] lots of experiences of sexual harassments, sexual assault, just the kind of stuff that happens when you are a girl growing up in a big city.” “So, you know,” I finished, “just the general feeling that you are unsafe, you know, in a female body.”

The therapist did not respond to my disclosure that trauma could be the cause of my dysphoria. Instead of viewing this trauma as potentially driving my desire to escape my female body through hormones and surgery, she asked whether there is anything “important that the surgery team should be aware of” regarding my “history of trauma,” such as whether I’d be comfortable with the surgeon examining and marking my chest prior to surgery.

When asked about whether I had had any “psychotic symptoms,” I told her that while I had had no such symptoms, my mother had a delusional nervous breakdown in her 50s because she had body dysmorphia and became convinced she had a growth on her neck that needed to be removed. I told her that my mother was then admitted to an inpatient hospital for severe depression. I asked her whether she ever sees patients with body dysmorphia and whether I could have potentially inherited that from my mother. She told me that psychosis was hereditary, but that it was “highly unlikely” that there was any connection between body dysmorphia and gender dysphoria.

I enthusiastically waved more mental health red flags, waiting to see if she would pick up on any of them.

I’m just wondering if my feelings, or perseverating, or feeling like these breasts make me really unhappy and I just don’t want them anymore!...I’m just not sure if that’s a similar feeling to body dysmorphia? How do you decide which one is gender dysphoria and general body dysmorphia, and just not liking something about your body? Feeling uncomfortable with your body? And I did have an eating disorder all through college. I was a distance runner in college so I had bulimia and anorexia, you know. So I don’t know if that’s related to gender dysphoria?

The therapist replied, “I completely appreciate your concerns, but I am going to ask you questions about your chest, about your expectations. And then I’ll be able to give you an assessment.” She also said the main difference between my mom’s situation and mine was that my mom didn’t really have a growth on her neck, whereas it’s “confirmed” that I actually have “chest tissue.” Furthermore, she said that while “historically there has been all this pressure on patients to be like ‘Are you really, really sure you want hormones? Are you 100% sure?’ We are a little more relaxed.” She continued, “As long as you are aware of the risks and the side-effects, you can put your toe in the water. You can stop ‘T’ [testosterone], you can go back and do it again later! You can stop it! You can stop it! You know what I mean?”

Because we ran out of time, I scheduled a follow-up phone meeting on December 27, 2022 with a different gender specialist to complete my mental health assessment for top surgery.

Pre-Surgery Mental Health Video Appointment, Part II

During this meeting, Guneet Kaur, LCSW, another Kaiser gender specialist (she/her/they/them pronouns) told me that she regretted the “gatekeeping vibe” of the meeting but assured me that since I have been “doing the work,” her questions are essentially just a form of “emotional support” before talking with the medical providers.

She asked me about what I’d been “looking into as far as hormones.” I told her that I’d be interested in taking small doses of testosterone to counterbalance my female feelings to achieve “a feeling that’s kind of neutral.”

When she asked me about me “not feeling like I match on the outside what I feel on the inside,” I dropped more red flags, mentioning my aversion to wearing dresses and skirts.

I don’t own a single dress or a skirt and haven't in 20 years. I think for me it’s been just dressing the way that’s comfortable for me, which is just wearing, jeans and sweatshirts and I have a lot of flannel shirts and, and I wear boots all the time instead of other kinds of shoes. So I think it’s been nice being able to dress, especially because I work from home now most of the time that just a feeling of clothing being one of the ways that I can feel more non-binary in my everyday life.

She responded, “Like having control over what you wear and yeah. Kind of that feeling of just, yeah, this is who I am today. That’s awesome. Yeah.”

She then asked me to describe my dysphoria, and I told her that I didn’t like the “feeling of the female form and being chesty,” and that because I am going through menopause, I wanted to start taking testosterone to avoid “that feeling of being like this apple-shaped older woman.” “Good. Okay, great,” she responded, reminding me that only “top surgery,” not testosterone, would be able to solve my chest dysphoria. (Perhaps it was because all these meetings were online, they didn’t notice I’m actually fit and relatively slender at 5’-5” and 130 pounds, and not apple-shaped at all.)

She told me that we had to get through a few more questions related to my medical history before “we can move on to the fun stuff, which is testosterone and top surgery.”

The “fun stuff” consisted of a discussion about the physical and mood changes I could expect, and her asking me about the dose of testosterone I wanted to take and the kind of “top surgery” technique I’d prefer to achieve my “chest goals.” She told me that all or most of my consultations for surgeries and hormones would be virtual.

The gender specialist told me after the appointment, she would submit my referral to the Multi-Specialty Transitions Clinic (MST) team that oversees “gender expansive care.” They would follow up to schedule a “nursing call” with me to review my medical history, after which they’d schedule my appointment with a surgeon for a consultation. Her instructions for this consultation were to “tell them what you’re wanting for surgery and then they share with you their game plan.”

[ Decision-making slide to help me identify my goals for top surgery–flat chest, nipple sensation, or minimal scarring. Source: Kaiser Permanente, Top Surgery - EXPLORING YOUR SURGICAL OPTIONS ]

She told me that Kaiser has a team of plastic surgeons who “only work with trans and nonbinary patients because there’s just so much need for them.” She asked about my priorities for chest surgery, such as whether I value flatness over nipple sensation. I learned about double incision top surgery with nipple grafts, as well as “keyhole,” “donut,” “buttonhole,” and “Inverted-T” top surgeries.

By the end of the hour-long appointment, I had my surgery referral and was ready for my “nursing call” appointment.

Nursing call with Nurse Coordinator from the Transgender Surgery and Gender Pathways Clinic at Kaiser San Francisco

On January 19, 2023, I had my nursing call with the Nurse Coordinator. He first said that “the purpose of this call is just for us to go through your chart together and make sure everything’s as accurate as possible.” Once that was done, my referral would be sent to the surgeon for a consultation.

He asked me about potential allergies and recreational drug use, and verified that I was up to date on mammograms, pap smears, and colon cancer screenings, as well as vaccines for flu and COVID. I verified my surgical history as well as my current medications and dietary supplements.

He told me about a “top surgery class” available for patients where one of the Kaiser surgeons “presents and talks about surgical techniques and options within top surgery,” and includes a panel of patients who have had top surgery. I signed up for the February 8th class.

Within 10 minutes he told me that he had “sent a referral to the plastic surgery department at Kaiser Sacramento,” and that I should be hearing from them in the next week or two to schedule a consultation.

Appointment for Testosterone

On January 27, I had a 13-minute online appointment with a primary care doctor at Kaiser Davis to discuss testosterone. The doctor verified my name and preferred pronouns, and then directly asked: “So, what would you like to do? What kind of physical things are you looking for?”

I told her I wanted facial hair, a more muscular and less “curvy” physique, and to feel stronger and androgynous. She asked me when I wanted to start, and I told her in the next few months. She asked me if I was menopausal, whether I had ovaries and a uterus, although that information should have been on my chart.

The doctor said she wanted me to come in to get some labs so she could check my current estrogen, testosterone, and hemoglobin levels before starting hormones. Then “we'll set the ball in motion and you'll be going. We’ll see you full steam ahead in the direction you wanna go.”

That was it. I made an appointment and had my lab tests done on February 12. My labs came back on February 14, and the following day, after paying a $5 copay at the Kaiser pharmacy, I picked up my testosterone pump. That was easy!

Top Surgery Consultation

On the same day I received my labs, I had a Zoom surgery consultation with Karly Autumn-Kaplan, MD, Kaiser Sacramento plastic surgeon. This consultation was all about discussing my “goals” for surgery, not about whether surgery was needed or appropriate.

I told the surgeon that I wanted a “flatter, more androgynous appearance.” She asked me some questions to get a better idea of what that meant for me. She said that some patients want a “male chest,” but that others “want to look like nothing, like just straight up and down, sometimes not even nipples.” Others still wanted their chest to appear slightly feminine and only “slightly rounded.” I told her that I’d like my chest to have a “male appearance.”

“What are your thoughts about keeping your nipples?” she asked. “Are you interested in having nipples or would you like them removed?” I told her that I’d like to keep my nipples, but to make them “smaller in size.” She asked me if I’d like them moved to “the edge of the peck muscle” to achieve “a more male appearance.” I said yes.

I was asked to show my bare chest from the front and side, which I did. Then she asked me how important it was for me to keep my nipple sensation. I replied that it was important unless it would make recovery more difficult or there were other associated risks. She highlighted the problem with the free nipple graft, saying that removing the nipple to relocate it means “you're not gonna have sensation in that nipple and areola anymore.” However, some nipple sensation could be preserved by keeping it attached to “a little stalk of tissue” with “real nerves going to it,” but that would require leaving more tissue behind. I told her I’d go for the free nipple graft to achieve a flatter appearance. It was also suggested I could skip nipple reconstruction entirely and just get nipples “tattooed” directly onto my chest.

She told me I was “a good candidate for surgery,” and put me on the surgery wait list. She said that the wait time was between three and five months, but a cancellation could move me up to a sooner date. Also, if I wanted surgery as soon as possible, I could tell the surgery scheduler that I’d be willing to have any of the other three surgeons perform my mastectomy. Outpatient top surgery would cost me a copay of $100.

They contacted twice, in February and March, notifying me of cancellations. If I had accepted and shown up on those dates, they would have removed my breasts. This would have been less than five months from the time I first contacted Kaiser to inform them of my new “nonbinary” gender identity.

How Far Can I Go?

I decided to see how easy it would be for me to get approved for a phalloplasty. Known euphemistically as “bottom surgery,” phalloplasty is the surgical creation of an artificial penis, generally using tissue from the thigh or arm.

I sent an email on March 1, 2023, requesting to have a phalloplasty and concurrent hysterectomy scheduled alongside my mastectomy.

Two weeks later, on March 16th, I had a 16-minute phone call with a gender specialist to discuss my goals for bottom surgery and obtain my referral.

During the call, I explained to the specialist that I wasn’t sure about taking testosterone anymore because I was already quite athletic and muscular, and that taking testosterone didn’t make much sense to me. Instead, I wanted bottom surgery so that I wouldn’t feel like my “top” didn’t match my “bottom.” I told her:

But what I really wanted was to have bottom surgery. So this way when I have my top surgery, which sounds like it could be very soon, that I’ll be aligned, that I won’t have this sense of dysphoria with one part of my body and the other part feeling like it matched who I am. So yeah. So I just did a little bit more research into that. And I looked at the resources on the Kaiser page for the MST clinic and I think I know what I want, which is the hysterectomy and then at the same time or soon after to be able to have a phalloplasty.

I told her that I wanted to schedule the top and bottom surgery concurrently so that I wouldn’t have to take more time off work and it would save me trips to San Francisco or Oakland, or wherever I had to go for surgery.

None of this gave the gender specialist pause. After a brief conversation about some online resources to look over, she told me that she would “submit the referral now and we’ll get this ball rolling.”

Bottom surgery would cost me a copay of $200, which included a couple of days in the hospital for recovery.

Phalloplasty Surgical Consultation with Nurse Coordinator

On May 16, 2023, I had a short surgical consultation with a nurse coordinator to go through my medical history. This was similar to the consultation for top surgery but included information about hair removal procedures for the skin on my “donor site” that would be fashioned into a makeshift penis. They also went over the procedures for determining which donor site—forearm or thigh—was more viable.

After only 15 minutes, she submitted my referral to the surgeon for another surgical consultation.

On May 25 I received an email from my phalloplasty surgeon’s scheduler, informing me that they have received my referral and are actively working on scheduling, but that they are experiencing delays.

I ended my investigation here once I had the referral for the top and bottom surgery. I never used my testosterone pump.

Final Thoughts

In fewer than 300 days, based on a set of superficial and shifting thoughts about my gender and my “embodiment goals” triggered by the mere mention of “gender” in a form letter from my primary care physician, and driven by what could only be described as minor discomforts, Kaiser Permanente’s esteemed “multi-disciplinary team” of “gender specialists” was willing, with enthusiasm—while ignoring mental health concerns, history of sexual trauma, and rapidly escalating surgical requests—to prescribe life-altering medications and perform surgeries to remove my breasts, uterus, and vagina, close my vaginal opening, and attempt a complex surgery with high failure and complication rates to create a functionless representation of a penis that destroys the integrity of my arm or thigh in the process.

This describes the supposedly meticulous, lengthy, and safety-focused process that a Kaiser patient must undergo to embark on a journey to medically alter their body. No clinician questioned my motivations. No one showed concern that I might be addressing a mental health issue through radical and irreversible interventions that wouldn’t address my amorphous problems. There were no discussions about how these treatments would impact my long-term health, romantic relationships, family, or sex life. I charted the course. The clinicians followed my lead without question. The guiding issue was what I wanted to look like.

No other medical field operates with this level of carelessness and disregard for patient health and welfare. No other medical field addresses issues of self-perception with surgery and labels it “medically necessary.” No other medical field is this disconnected from the reality of the patients it serves.

Kaiser has traded medicine for ideology. It’s far beyond time we stop the ruse of considering “gender-affirming” interventions as anything approaching medical care.

This isn’t the first time Kaiser Permanente has been in the news for completely disregarding medical safeguards in the name of “gender-affirming care.” As girls, Chloe Cole and Layla Jane became convinced that they were born in the wrong body and were actually boys on the inside. Doctors at Kaiser ignored their underlying conditions and instead prescribed testosterone and removed their breasts. Both Cole and Jane have since detransitioned and are currently suing Kaiser.

The fact that children and vulnerable adults are being exploited in this massive ideological experiment is not just tragic; it’s deeply disturbing, especially considering it has evolved into a billion-dollar industry.

I hope that by sharing my story, I can bring more focused scrutiny to the medical scandal unfolding not just at Kaiser but also at medical centers and hospitals across the Western world. These institutions have completely abandoned medical safeguards for patients who claim to be confused about their “gender,” and I aim to awaken more parents and assist them in protecting their children.

This is completely insane.

Apologists online are running around saying, but she didn't mean it, she was lying, she was pretending...

It doesn't matter.

Any kind of security, penetration or integrity test is insincere too. When security researchers compromise Microsoft's operating system or Google's browser or whatever, "but they didn't mean it" is not a defence to a discovered security flaw. It doesn't matter that the security researchers didn't plan to steal data or money or identities. The flaw in the system is there regardless.

It doesn't matter that it was insincere. Because the workers didn't know that. They never checked, never asked questions, never tested. They had been taught and instructed to never ask any questions. They did what they were supposed to. And the system failed spectacularly. Because that's what "gender affirming care" means.

Additionally, the claim that Beth Bourne committed fraud is an outright lie. A patient cannot bill. They do not have the authority. The medical clinic is the only one that can bill, and they must supply a diagnosis and a medical necessity.

If they didn't diagnose her and just wrote down what she said, then they committed fraud. If they claim they did diagnose her, then they committed fraud, because the diagnosis they concocted was bogus. This, by the way, is actually going on. Clinics are reporting fake endocrine and other disorders to get blockers, hormones and other interventions. Jamie Reed and other whistleblowers have documented evidence of this. Beth Bourne is not responsible for what the clinic does. They have medical licenses and legal responsibility. Not her.

Additionally, anyone who actually read the article would know how she tested the system. She said things like, "I've always been not that feminine. So, maybe I get my boobs removed." And they said, "sure." Instead of saying, "wait, why do you think that?" Framing it as her lying is itself a lie. They violated their ethical obligations. That much is incontrovertible. And it's directly the result of "gender affirming care," where clinics and clinicians rubber-stamp anything deemed "trans" based entirely on ideological, not medical, grounds.

#Beth Bourne #undercover #undercover investigation #gender identity ideology #queer theory #nonbinary #non binary #top surgery #bottom surgery #double mastectomy #bilateral mastectomy #gender affirming care #gender affirming healthcare #gender affirmation #affirmation model #medical scandal #medical malpractice #medical corruption #religion is a mental illness

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lani-heart · 9 months ago

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|| ENHYPEN SERIES – 7 TALES MASTERLIST ||

genre(s) -> hybrid au, non-idol au, university au paring(s) -> ehyphen ( individually ) x reader(s) warning(s) -> angst, violence, crimes, bullying, drinking, etc.

abstract -> what can go wrong in a world of hybrids?

-> uploading will start May 18 //Schedule tbd -> taglist open !!

RIKI NISHIMURA || SPOILED & MISBEHAVED

abstract -> Freshman in college and put to socialize with the other kids from wealthy families. y/n and Riki Nishimura being childhood friends and hybrid / master weren’t anything like other owners. Instead, Riki misbehaves and is rude when around others wanting his owner for himself. Getting her in trouble a few too many times had got him worried that he’d be replaced like her father had warned him. So instead of waiting to be replaced… There's a new etiquette class available at the same school as his owner. How convenient… now was that gonna guarantee him a spot by her side forever?

COMPLETE -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || “perfect hybrid” CHAPTER TWO || etiquette CHAPTER THREE || misunderstandings CHAPTER FOUR || fake relationship CHAPTER FIVE || for you

JAEYUN SIM || EVERYTHING FORBIDDEN

abstract -> Seeing how Riki is treated, Jake, jealous and tired, runs away from the adoption center. Only to save a girl from the predatory men on the streets of Seoul. Not knowing he’s a hybrid, they both have the time of their lives… while he pretends to be human. How scandalous… the daughter of a wealthy known CEO to be caught with a stray hybrid?

COMPLETE -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || outcasts CHAPTER TWO || luxury CHAPTER THREE || abandonment CHAPTER FOUR || forbidden CHAPTER FIVE || anything

PARK JONG-SEONG || NEVER ENOUGH

abstract -> Haechan always liked to interfere where he didn’t belong. Making a scholarship student take a hybrid and making a bet she’ll regret wasn’t on this year's calendar. Especially with how mean and rude he was… no way he was the well-behaved and sought-after hybrid the rich kids wanted. But… was sweet and caring, at the end of the day, however, he wouldn’t turn his life from riches to rags… right?

ON GOING -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || temporary CHAPTER TWO || scholarship CHAPTER THREE || mean CHAPTER FOUR || insecurities CHAPTER FIVE || forever

KIM SUNOO || WON'T YOU BE MY MUSE ?

abstract -> The principal's spoiled daughter returns from her trip to China only to find that her artist's block hasn't gotten any better. Who knew a cute and innocent fox would fix that? However… she swore never to own a hybrid so she could only admire him from afar as his owner turned out to be everything Sunoo hated. Even through that hatred and pain… she still saw him worthy enough to be her muse.

COMING SOON -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || artist block CHAPTER TWO || exhibition CHAPTER THREE || envy CHAPTER FOUR || disappointed CHAPTER FIVE || muse

LEE HEESEUNG || DYSPHORIC BEAUTY

abstract -> Never adopted… I mean who would want to adopt a hybrid with big antlers on his head? It was a shame that such a pretty face had such an ugly thing growing out of his head. Would you want to adopt him? Even after he tried to cut them off risking his life in the process? Even after your parent's threats?

COMING SOON -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || ugly CHAPTER TWO || doe eyes CHAPTER THREE || antlers CHAPTER FOUR || empty CHAPTER FIVE || pretty

PARK SUNGHOON || GRACE OF AN AMNESIAC

abstract -> The figure skater hybrid was sought after being sold for millions… but he met his match to take care of a clumsy woman. He was famous after all why should he have to take care of an idiotic woman like you who forgets to look both ways when crossing the street? Especially when you’ll end up forgetting him… all over again?

COMING SOON -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || spring CHAPTER TWO || lies CHAPTER THREE || hate CHAPTER FOUR || truth CHAPTER FIVE || winter

YANG JUGWON || ESCAPE ARTIST

abstract -> Daughter of two renowned lawyers who just busted a case on the black mart hybrid traffickers damned their daughter with a hybrid. They thought it was a good thing to have someone to go home to after a long day… well that wasn’t true when he tried to run away every day. Until… one day she decided to not go find him.

COMING SOON -> preview

CHAPTER ONE || service CHAPTER TWO || escape CHAPTER THREE || law CHAPTER FOUR || riot CHAPTER FIVE || liberty

if you would like to be on the taglist please send an ask or comment under this post. If you message me there might be a chance I don't see if and if you ask on another post such as in one of the chapters it'll be hard to keep up with.

taglist -> @ilovecheese09 @gudkc @nikisvanillaccola @blossominghunnie @mheretoreadff @k1ttylvr @starzniiky @kibs-and-bits @b3tt7boop @in-somnias-world @lol6sposts @xiaoderrrr @jihyosgfremade @b-a-nshee-blog @mimisamisasa @katsukis1wife @eggomi @thunderous-wolf @tinyteezer @lilactangerine @starfallia @sousydive @bearseulgs @rooomeo

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year ago

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⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆ Tinsel ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

A/N: all I gotta say is..WHEN IS IT MY TURN DAMMIT 🥲

joel deserves nice things™ ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

~word count: 4.9k~

pairing | boyfriend! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery, but your Texas hunk of a boyfriend makes sure that this holiday season you feel loved.

Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mommy issues for the reader, typical holiday angst, readers mother is a bitch, mentions of smoking and consuming alcohol, unprotected piv, dom/sub vibes, fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, cock warming, light ass slapping, unconditional love, Sarah and Ellie exist in this universe (Ellie is adopted) best friend! Tommy, close family vibes, soft! Joel, protective! Joel, Tommy is like a big brother to the reader, reader has no physical descriptions, there is one scene where Joel picks the reader up, no age gap, Christmas traditions, +18, minors dni! Please let me know if I missed anything!

“Hey, babe?” You chimed from the living room. Both hands on your hips as you peered up at your beautifully decorated Christmas tree. “Do you think the tree could use some more tinsel?”

Your boyfriend, Joel Miller was in the kitchen with Sarah and Tommy who were on cookie duty, while Joel was crafting together the best goddamn gingerbread house your mother would ever see in her lifetime. (You hoped)

“Here she goes again with the tinsel.” Sarah giggled, gently nudging her uncle with her elbow.

Joel gave his daughter a playful warning glare before picking up a dusting of flour between his fingers and threw it at her with a grin. “Be nice, baby girl. Y’know how her mom is with this stuff. Everythin’ has gotta be perfect.”

“I’ll be there in just a sec, honey!” He called back, brushing his flour coated hands on his apron and retreated from the kitchen while Tommy and Sarah snickered.

“I still think we should add more tinsel, Joel. Maybe more ornaments? If she sees a single bald spot on the tree—” you’re caught off guard from bare, broad arms wrapping around your waist from behind. His aquiline nose brushes the exposed bit of skin along your neckline. He inhales deeply, smelling of cinnamon, clove, and ginger with a hint of Joel.

“Baby,” he rasps warm and deep, lips pressing to your warmed skin with affectionate sweetness. “The tree is gorgeous. I don’t see any bald spots.” A gentle squeeze to your hips, followed by another peck.

“But—” your voice falls short.

You melt back into his arms the way that marshmallows do in steaming hot chocolate. Pliant in his hold, suppressing a giggle when the scratchy bits of his patchy beard gently scrape your skin.

“But nothin’, baby. How about you help frost the cookies, hm? Get your mind off this damn tinsel.” You feel his lips curve into a smile along your skin. His chuckle vibrates up his chest and through your sweater covered spine. His hands drop from your hips, settling against the curve of your back, fingertips slipping into the denim pockets.

Cheeky.

A grumbled sigh from your lips, agreement, for the time being. The topic of tinsel would be brought up again. Your hand floated upwards towards his face, fingertips ghosting the patchy spots that you loved to press hidden kisses to. A finger hooks around his jaw, pulling him downwards to meet you in a kiss.

He obliges to your silent request. His nose brushes yours eliciting a sweet giggle to pass through your parted lips. The sounds of Santa Baby drowns out in the background. White noise compared to the steady thumping of yours and Joel’s synchronized hearts.

“I’ll be bringing up the tinsel again, Joel.” You murmur through the palpable warm tension.

“I know you will, darlin’” he tuts playfully, “But shh. Less talkin’, baby. Kiss me, doll.” He all but demands. The gap between you is closed. He kisses you sweetly, squeezing your flesh below the denim fabric. You swat playfully, melting once more when his tongue swipes your lower lip, testing—

“Ain’t hearin’ much talkin’ goin’ on in there!” Tommy remarks from the opening of the kitchen. Smirk plastered.

It’s Joel’s turn to grumble. A hint of annoyance on his breath. He breaks away from the kiss begrudgingly, but not before he can whisper just for your ears to hear, “we’ll finish this later.” Shortly followed by an encouraging pat to your jean clad ass, and a nudge towards the kitchen.

“These cookies ain’t gonna frost themselves!”

“Relax, brother. We’re coming!” Joel shoots you a wink with a suggestive tilt of his chin in your direction. The simple action alone sends a wave of arousal gushing through the thin fabric of your panties. A jolt, like a bolt of lighting.

4 years of dating your Texas hunk, and the sparks were still flying.

Sarah and Tommy both give you and Joel a cheeky little grin once you appear in the kitchen. An apron is tossed in your direction. Your eyes roll playfully with a shake of your head.

Joel returns to his gingerbread house making when you realizing that there’s one more member missing. “Is Ellie still asleep?” You ask while glancing at the clock along the wall.

“Must be. I’ll go and drag her out of bed.” Joel announced. He untied his apron and laid it flat across the table. He brushed past you on his way out of the kitchen.

Ellie Miller was in fact still dead asleep when he quietly pushed open her bedroom door. “Ohh Jelly Bean.” He cooed, using her least favorite nickname purposely.

A pillow was tossed carelessly in his direction with the intent to hit him, but Joel was ready for it and ducked out of the way. “C’mon, baby girl. It’s half past 10 and we could really use your help downstairs.” Joel said while reaching for the comforter to yank back.

“Can’t the cookies frost themselves? Y’know how I feel about the holidays, Dad.” She grumbled with her face squished into her pillow.

“Mhm. I sure do. Just a buncha commercialized crap around a jolly big ole’ fat man that breaks into people's houses, steals their cookies, and leaves crap under the tree. The only cool part of Santa Claus is his reindeer.” Joel said monotonically.

“You’re forgetting the bit where Rudolph is the coolest because of—”

“His bright shinin’ red nose. See, I remember these things, kiddo. Now, please get on up and help us out. If you don’t wanna frost the cookies, then you can help me finish with the gingerbread houses. Fair deal?” Joel crossed his arms against his chest while he awaited her response.

Ellie let out a long, dramatic sigh before she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. I’ll come down and help out.” She grumbled.

“Thank you, grinchy.” He said teasingly while she shot him a playful glare. “There’s coffee downstairs too, if ya want any.”

Her nose turned upwards as she let out a disgusted sound. “Gross. Y’know how I feel about that stuff. It’s nasty. Smells like burnt shit. Don’t know how you drink that crap.” She grimaced.

“Hot chocolate?” He suggested with a warm grin.

“Now we’re talkin.’” She grinned.

Once the cookies were properly frosted, and the two gingerbread houses were fashioned, it was time for a well deserved break. Tommy volunteered to take Sarah and Ellie out sledding and then lunch while Joel stayed back to help you clean the kitchen.

Your boyfriend had his own idea of ‘cleaning’ and taking a break. You had just started the dishes when you felt his warm presence envelop and invade your senses. His strong arms were wrapped around you once more, and the tip of his broad nose was pressed into your neck, curls tickling your cheekbones.

“Have you come to help me with washing duty, baby?” You asked softly when his lips pressed an opened mouth kiss to your exposed skin. You learned very quickly early on in your relationship that Joel Miller was a lover, and a giver. He always needed to be close to you in some way.

“Mhm. I have, honey. But, I was hopin’ I could make you feel good first. I think the dishes can wait. Don’t you?” He nuzzled against you, thumbs slipping through the front pockets of your jeans.

“Joel..” you warned.

“Please, baby. I know the holiday season gets you all wound up. Let me help you relax, and then I will do the dishes and finish cleaning up here. Afterwards, you and I can settle in for a well deserved nap. How’s that sound?”

How did you get so lucky?

“You’re so good to me, baby. I suppose we can—” your words become lodged in your throat when his teeth graze your delicate skin. He nibbles playfully, knowing just how to get his girl going. His fingers toy with the button on your jeans before he pops it open.

“You’re my girl, ain’t ya? I live for makin’ you happy and feelin’ good. I love you very much, darlin.’ And I’ll be damned if this time of the year beats you down again.” He whispers while pulling down the zipper swiftly. His unoccupied hand slips under your sweater where he can feel your stomach clench inwards, the quickness of your breath while he splays his long, rugged fingers across your skin.

(If you ain’t dating a proper cowboy yet, then what the hell are you doin?’)

You allow yourself to indulge and melt into his grasp when his hand slips beneath the confines of your jeans, and below your panties. His broad fingers stroke gently between your folds, gathering up the slickness that has pooled there from this morning’s earlier interaction.

“Talkin’ of tinsel really gotcha goin,’ huh baby? Or was it the way that your handsome boyfriend was talkin’ to ya? Is that what got your pretty little pussy drippin?’” He purrs and your knees nearly buckle. Your Joel has never been shied away from dirty talk, and he knows how much you love it when filth drips from between his perfect lips.

You laugh, and it’s music to his ears whenever you let your guard down around him. Your head falls back ceremoniously against his shoulder, admiring his side profile through fluttered lashes. “It definitely wasn’t the damn tinsel, that’s for sure.”

“Thought so.” He mused with a rumbling deep chuckle. He’s acutely aware of your budding desperation taking the front and center stage when your hips buck upwards into his palm. “Someone’s a bit eager, hm? Want me to stretch this pretty pussy apart with my fingers, baby? S’that what my sweet girl wants?”

“Mhmm.” Is really all you’re able to get out because your mind is swirling, intoxicated with your boyfriend, and his goddamn hands that know how to play you to ruin. A flush rises to your cheeks, skin burning red hot like embers in a fire when his lips ghost the shell of your ear, sending a warm chill down every vertebrae in your spine.

“Can’t hear ya, honeybun. Gonna need ya to speak up for me.” His fingers dip down lower, teasing your tight wet hole that pulses around nothing, feeling empty and neglected thus far. His teeth bite down on your lobe, tugging it down playfully and elicit a desperate little mewl to slip past your lips.

“Fingers, daddy. Now. Please.” Your requests come out scrambled, misconstrued, but audible nonetheless. He seems pleased enough with your response and slowly sinks in two of his thick digits; ring and middle knuckle deep inside of your pulsing cunt. His hand encasing your entire mound while his thumb finds your clit with ease, curling his fingers inwards in a ‘come hither’ motion.

“Fuuck.” You moaned, wanton, depraved, love drunk on your Texas hunk.

His non-dominant hand that was presently resting along your stomach drops down. It takes him all of 5 seconds to tug your jeans down over your ass and thighs, exposing your bare skin to the room temperature air. His hand massages your supple flesh, curving against your spine before pulling back and returning with one firm smack to your left cheek that echoes through the expanse of the kitchen. “‘Atta girl.” He praises you lovingly, massaging the irritated skin before he delivers another smack, harder this time. It’s just enough to send you jolting forward into his hand, crying out his name.

The muscles in his bicep flex under the natural light flooding in through the kitchen windows. His fingers pump in and out, in and out. The mixed sounds of your pleasure, and your cunt squelching around his fingers sends blood flowing southwards to his hardening cock. You feel the press of him against your lower back when you reach around, fingers blindly searching till they find their home against the bulge in his jeans.

He grunts, lower lip taken harshly between his teeth, the speed of his wrist movements increase when you stroke him through the tight confines. You can feel all of him through the fabric, and you’re prideful that his desperately hard cock is just for you.

“Gonna fuck yourself against my fingers, baby? Gonna use me to get yourself off?” He questions hastily, breath shuddering when he finds himself grinding his hips in your hand with a need to satiate the building friction.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, mouth falling open in an ‘o’ shape when his fingers kiss that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. You’re so close, nearly at the edge when his fingers slip out, leaving you abandoned before his bending down and hoisting you over his shoulder like a rag doll.

His steps are calculated and precise carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom. He tosses you on the bed in a playful manner, lips finding yours in a chaste kiss while his hands tug your jeans down completely, followed by your panties. “Couldn’t wait any longer to be inside ya, baby” his words fall like whispers against your lips. You reach for his belt, undoing it with that sweet giggle that he loves so much.

He licks into your mouth like a man starved when you finally release him from his confines. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. His lips detach, a string of saliva connecting you to him before he plops down beside you on his back.

“We don’t even need to fuck, honey. Jus’ wanna be inside ya. Take a nap with my cock keepin’ you stuffed full.” He’s vulgar, greedy when he reaches for you. You melt like putty, sticky and sweet, and dripping.

“I love keeping your cock warm, daddy. Almost as much as I love it when you send me to a new dimension.” You murmur, settling against his chest. Your hand reaches down between your bodies, grasping his length and guiding it to your opening. A combined sweet sigh when he eases himself inside of you.

“So fuckin’ perfect for me. Warm, wet, huggin’ me s’tight.” He sounds drunk now too. His grin is lazily, placid when your eyes meet in a loving gaze. His hips shift beneath you, bottoming out, filling, stretching, while you pull him in.

His chin dips down, capturing your lips once more. It’s probably one of his favorite things to do, kissing you. Lips that he believes were made for him. A peck to your nose follows, teeth nibbling, giggles, sweet sounds.

“Joel?” You ask through the domestic calmness that shelters you both.

“Mhmm?” He rumbles, words rolling slowly against his tongue.

“I love you.”

His arms shift to wrap around you, holding you close. Heartbeats entwined. “I love you too, baby doll. And no matter what happens this Christmas, you’re perfect to me. No matter what your mother thinks, or says, you’re perfect.”

“Did you knit these ghastly things yourself?” Your mother criticizes the sweaters you knitted for yourself, Joel, Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah. It was your first big knitting project. A daunting task at first, but the old ladies at the senior center you volunteered at were both charming, and helpful.

“Yes, mother. I knitted them myself.” Her words hurt, but that’s what champagne spritzers are for. You take a hefty sip from your champagne flute.

“Well, the pattern is all wrong, dear.” She drops the sleeve of your sweater with a sigh. “Your home looks lovely, by the way, but your tree could use more tinsel. I noticed five bald spots when I first walked in.” She has no idea how many hours you spent decorating the tree in the living room, the mantles, outside in the front yard. You worked tirelessly with your family, and she still had the audacity to say something negative about it.

You fake a smile, catching a glance from your Texas hunk who is preoccupied in the kitchen with making sure that dinner is absolutely perfect.

“Thank you for the compliment, mother. Can I get you more champagne?” You ask, hoping that you can just take a breather finally.

“Oh, thank you dear, that would be lovely. Where’s that boyfriend of yours, Joe?” She waved her wrist carelessly, bracelets chiming in your ears. Even after four years, your mother still didn’t call your boyfriend by his real name.

“His name is Joel, mother. And he’s in the kitchen with his brother who is helping him with dinner.” You respond flatly.

“Joe. Joel, what’s the difference?” She doesn’t get it. She never does, and never will.

“Mother, it’s rude. He’s my boyfriend of almost five years, and you can’t even bother to remember his name?” You’re on the edge of snapping. It's not fair that your mother thinks that just because her husband divorced her that she gets to make everyone close to her miserable too.

“He’s still your boyfriend? Well, by now I surely would think that you’d be engaged and married. Who in their right mind plays house with a man for almost five years? Dear, have I taught you nothing?”

Tears prick the corner of your eyes from the blow of her words. You and Joel never felt like you needed to get married. It was just a piece of paper, shared finances, social status that neither of you cared for. You loved each other, you loved Sarah and Ellie, and viewed Tommy like a brother. Wasn’t that enough?

“Excuse me, mother, while I go top off your glass.”

She doesn’t see the glassy look in your eyes when you snatch the flute from her. Your footsteps carry you directly to the kitchen. For a brief moment you think about tossing the glass into the sink and letting the crystal shatter, but you opt to set it down on the counter.

Joel and Tommy are watching you closely from a distance. You’re visibly upset, and no fake smile can hide that.

I just need a breather.

The air is chilly, and the sky is clear with twinkling stars. Your tears glisten under the Christmas lights hanging above the front step when you hear the front door open and close. You move quickly to douse out the lit cigarette that is pursed between your painted lips, feeling a twinge of shame from a habit you couldn’t quite break.

“You don’t gotta hide that on my account, sweetheart.” Tommy said softly with his hands shoved in his jean pockets.

“I just..needed something to take the edge off.” You know that there’s no reason to explain yourself to him, or anyone for that matter. Tommy’s been your best friend for years, and he was the one that introduced you to Joel in the first place.

“I get it. Family can be real assholes sometimes, huh? It’s like that one scene in National Lampoon’s where the wife says, “it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, and the misery is my mother.” You scoff and offer him your cigarette.

“Ah. What did she have to say this time around?” He asks while taking the cigarette between your fingers and bringing it against his lips.

“What didn’t she have to say?” You stifled a bitter laugh. “Five bald spots on the tree. The sweaters I knitted are ghastly, and she refuses to call Joel by his real name. Oh, and the cherry on top? She thinks I’m naive for ‘playing house with a man who isn’t even my husband.’”

“Bald spots? Where? The sweaters you made us are adorable, and what a bitch. I swear, that woman grows more callous every year. Who cares if you and Joel aren’t married? What’s it any of her business to do in your private life? You’re happy, aren’t you? She’s jus’ bein’ bitter cus’ you got a man that loves you unconditionally, and her husband left her.” Tommy finishes off what is left of the cigarette before he douses it out with the toe of his boot.

More tears begin to freely fall when you begin to fold in on yourself. “I love that man so fucking much, Tommy. He makes me so unbelievably happy and I just wish she could support me. To be my mother for once in her goddamn life and not this jealous..entity.” You sniffled.

“Oh, honey, it’s Christmas time and tears are not allowed!” Tommy attempted to joke, but when he saw just how upset you were, he switched gears and wrapped you up in his arms. “She’ll never understand, unfortunately. But that’s her loss. She could be real happy for you, and Joel, if she wanted to. But jealous people miss out on those happy moments I’m afraid. She refuses to be happy, and that ain’t have anythin’ to do with you, sweet pea.” He reassured you.

What Tommy really wanted to tell you, but couldn’t say, was that soon enough he’d be your brother in law, and your Texas hunk was going to ask you to marry him, to be his wife, at the stroke of midnight tonight when all the guests would retire home.

“You’re right, Tommy. You’re absolutely right. She’s choosing to be unhappy for me. That’s her choice, not mine. And you know what? Fuck her. She doesn’t get to hold this over me. I’m happy, and I refuse to let her ruin that for me.” You hug him back tightly.

“‘Atta girl. Now, let’s get back inside before my brother starts worryin’ more than he already has. I’ll entertain your mother so that you can have a break. How’s that sound?”

“Really? You’ll do that for me? Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. I’ll get her all liquored up.” He jokes with a playful wink.

Your lips peck his cheek in a non-romantic gesture. Tommy has always been your rock.

Dinner surprisingly runs smoothly, and you no longer have to deal with your mother because Tommy is talking up a storm with her, and she actually..smiles? Maybe it was just the champs.

Your Texas hunk is seated beside you with his hand resting along your thigh underneath the table. His thumb is rubbing reassuring circles against the silky fabric of your tights. He checks in with you between bites, silent glances, softened eyes. God, you loved this man.

Ellie, Sarah, and Joel helped you with the dishes while Tommy drove your cousin home. He had a crush on her for years, and finally grew a pair to make it known. Your mom, thankfully, went home with your aunts.

It was nearing midnight when Joel returned from upstairs after saying goodnight to the girls and wishing them sweet dreams. He found you curled up in the loveseat next to the fireplace, deep in thought with a half drunk glass of wine resting alongside the table. The rim of the glass was coated in a residue of your lipstick that had long since rubbed off.

“Is there room for me there?” He gestured to the loveseat with a small grin.

Your eyes met his in a soft gaze, and a subtle nod. And when you start to rise from the cushion, he stops you and instead lifts your thighs up gently before scooting in behind you so you’re draped across his lap comfortably.

“Are the girls asleep?” You ask as his hand rests around your hip.

“Mhm. Jus’ you and me, baby.” He replies with a swipe of his lips against your forehead. “Is everythin’ okay? You looked upset earlier..”

“Oh.” You sigh. “Yeah, everything is okay, Joel. It's just the holidays, and my mother, but I’m okay.” You reassure him while your hand drifts up towards the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair with your nails gently scratching his scalp.

“Yeah, I reckon she had some shit to say? I’m sorry, baby doll. But remember what I said earlier? You’re perfect to me no matter what your mother thinks or says.” He murmured. His hand that wasn’t resting along your hip reaches up, his thumb brushes across your chin, eyes boring into yours with sincerity and pure love.

“I just..I hate her sometimes, and I know I shouldn’t because she’s my mother, but she’s a bitter woman, and I don’t want her in my life anymore, Joel. Not when she’s like this.” You nearly croak, and his face falls. His lips curved downwards into a deep set frown. He senses your tears before they even begin to fall.

“Hey, just because she’s your mother, doesn’t mean that she has a right to be in your life, baby. It’s your life, and you get to decide who you want to be a part of it.” He can feel the weight of the small box growing heavy in his pocket. “Darlin’, I love you, and I just want my girl to be happy.” He confessed.

“You’re right. It's my life and I get to make those choices, not her. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to—”

He shushes you softly. His thumb gently presses down against your lower lip before he steals a quick kiss to reassure you, and himself. “Hey, you ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. You’re perfect. You’re amazing. Could give less of a fuck what your bitter mother has to say about it. I love you for you, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”

He pauses, swallowing the lump that is growing in his throat. He releases your hip gently before reaching into his pocket. “I know I shoulda asked you this question a long time ago, but I had to be sure that..it was perfect. All my life I’ve found myself bein’ a hopeless romantic. Always giving, never receivin’ the same kinda love I put out there. Never thought that one person could make a man’s heart feel so full, so complete till I met you. Now, you know I ain’t one for cliches, but I love you with everything my heart has to offer, and I want nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, my beautiful, sweet, unconditionally lovin’, girl.”

“Joel..are you—oh my god.” You’re in disbelief, heart thumping rapidly out of your chest when he pulls out a small, forest green velvet encased box.

“I ain’t finished yet, darlin.’” He tuts playfully. “So, will you do me the honors of becoming my wife? And as your husband, I promise to never stop lovin’ you, t’never stop supportin’ you, no matter what life throws our way?” His eyes are glassy with freshly brewed tears. He doesn’t even have the chance to open the box and reveal the ring to you before you’re throwing your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs from how tightly you’re hugging him.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you! Oh my god, a million times, yes!” You’re so happy you can barely contain it.

“Dontcha wanna see the ring?” He laughed warmly, wrapping his arms around you. “Ellie and Sarah helped me pick it out.”

“Aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee and all that?” You ask teasingly while you pull back from the hug and hold out your left hand.

“Oh, shit! You’re right! I’m doin’ this all wrong.” He chuckled with a shake of his head.

“No, fuck the tradition. Let’s do it our way.” You suggest and he smiles brightly, dimples peeking through. You open the box together revealing the dainty ring that had you written all over the design. An oval shaped diamond in the center, a shiny gold band, and two smaller diamonds on either side.

“It’s beautiful, Joel. You and the girls have impeccable taste.” Your heart swells when his lips press to your ring finger before he carefully slips the ring into place.

“It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t compare to the woman who’s wearing it.” He comments thoughtfully while your hands come to rest along his cheeks. His face is held tenderly while I love you’s are whispered only for yours and his ears. It’s not long before you're chasing one another’s lips. He kisses you with the same amount of passion every single time.

“Keep the sweater on, baby.” You request between kisses while his hands make quick work of tearing your thin tights open for easy access.

“I’ll buy ya a million pairs. Jus’ wanna make love to my future wife fireside without any obstructions.” His hands rest upon either side of your hips when you straddle his lap.

“And I want my future husband to sit back and watch his future wife ride his cock.” You finalize your words with a searing kiss while your fingers work open the button on his jeans. You push the material down just enough that you can pull his cock free.

“M’so fuckin’ lucky. God, I am so lucky. All my life I’ve been waitin’ for someone like you, baby.” He grunts lovingly, unconditionally when you finally sink down around him. “I can’t fuckin’ wait to grow old with you.”

Your hips roll slowly against his while he pulls you in with gentle hands. There’s no teeth clashing, or skin slapping. It’s just good ole fashioned love making by the fire. Just you and your Texas hunk.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Miller. You’re the only man in this world that deserves my heart.

banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year ago

Text

Hybrid

(A Gigabyte Flare One Shot)

Summary: The year is 2123. The latest craze to hit the market are Hybrids, humans genetically engineered to have animalistic traits, born and raised to be the perfect companion. Your mom convinces you to get one since you live alone in a big city, however you get way more than you bargained for

Word Count: 3.8k

Pairing: puppy!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Pet play, dubcon, oral (f receiving), somnophilia, sex [p in v], mommy kink, breeding kink

A/N: Finally hopping on the puppy!Leon band wagon! Huge shoutout to @nexysworld for creating the adorable puppy!Leon for this fic's banner and for her and @elfven-blog for enabling me to write a puppy!Leon fic. Also lightly inspired by the puppy!Leon POV series by Nekrophil/ABP0RNS on Twitter (go check them out, their artwork is *chef's kiss*) Enjoy!

“Hybrids, the latest craze in New Los Angeles for human companionship. Humans spliced with animal DNA and raised to be your best friend! Hybrids are the perfect addition to any household! Adopt your Hybrid today at your nearest--”

You abruptly change the channel, sitting in a living room with your mom at her condo.

“Those things freak me the fuck out…” you say, mindlessly scrolling through channels.

“Hybrids? Aw, really? I think they’re cute!”

You turn to your mom, giving her a disgusted look, “really? You don’t see anything wrong with those things?”

She shakes her head, “no worse than the cyber augmentations people get, sweetie”

You watch your mom ponder for a moment, her eyes suddenly widening, “you should get one!”

“What-- Mom, no!”

“You’re in that apartment all away across town all by yourself, it’ll be good for you!”

🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

How you got dragged out to adopt a Hybrid is beyond you. Your mom somehow convinced you to at least go and look at what they have available for adoption. You lean your head against the passenger window and watch the sights of the city. You mindlessly listen to your mom rattle on about how excited she is to look at the Hybrids and you picking out one, which finally draws your attention.

“Whoa hold on, Mom, I never said I was buying one! I just said I would look, that’s all!” you draw your attention back out the passenger window, “besides, I can’t afford one, you know that. I’d never have enough credits in my lifetime for something like that.”

“Hun, I’m going to help you with that, don’t worry. This is for your wellbeing, after all!”

“Great…”

The large neon sign proclaiming that it was the location of a Hybrid adoption center made your stomach sink. Your mom pulls the car into the parking lot, getting out and practically dragging you out of the passenger’s side to go into the building. The reception area is a blinding white, a stark contrast to the neon grunge of the city outside. The woman behind the desk greets both of you both with a smile.

“Welcome to the Hybrid adoption center! How can I help you ladies today?”

Your mom grasps you by your shoulders, pushing you forward, “my daughter wants to see the Hybrids available for adoption today!”

“Oh that’s fantastic!” the receptionist says, her smile still plastered on her face, “what kind of Hybrid are you looking for?”

You look at the receptionist with a confused look, “what do you mean what kind?”

“Well, we have different kinds that are spliced with different animals! However, our dog and cat Hybrids are our most popular, would you like to start with one of those?”

You look at your mom for a moment before shifting your attention back to the receptionist, “um… I guess the dog ones…?”

“Great choice! Now then, I’ll notify our active adoption coordinator and have her come out to take you to see what we have for dog Hybrids, have a seat!”

You and your mom take a seat in the waiting area. You lean forward, fiddling with your fingers as you both wait. Your mom was more excited to see the Hybrids than anyone. You just wanted to please your Mom and move on. You had no intention of adopting a Hybrid. The sound of a door sliding open makes you jump as a woman with a clipboard comes out to you and your Mom.

“Are you the two ladies here to see our dog Hybrids?” she asks enthusiastically.

“Yes we are!” your mom immediately answers, practically jumping out of her seat.

The woman motions for you both to follow her, you do so reluctantly. She leads you down a set of pure white corridors before coming upon another door that slides open. Both sides of the room were lined what you could only describe as cells and you see them, the Hybrids. You expected to hear barking for some reason, but that’s not the case here. They all are saying hello and grabbing the bars that keep them in their cells.

“They can talk…?” I ask.

“Yes! Hybrids are perfectly capable of human speech! Did you have something in particular in mind for a dog Hybrid?”

“You should get a male--” Mom interjects.

“Mom!”

The coordinator just laughs, “we have plenty of males to choose from, let’s take a look!”

The first thing you notice is all of them are naked, making this whole situation even more awkward. Hybrids were quite literally people with animal parts grafted onto them; it was quite unsettling to you.

“How is this even ethical?” you whisper to your Mom.

“Stop it!” your Mom scolds you.

Most of the Hybrids were much too… eager and hyper for you, making you a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t until you got to one of the last cells when a Hybrid actually caught your attention. He, of course, was nude like the rest, but he wasn’t jumping all over the place trying to get your attention. He was laying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He had blonde hair and blue eyes and, admittedly, he was quite gorgeous; you were bummed he was a Hybrid and not a human. He finally notices you, rolling over and smiling as he grasps the bars on his cell.

His voice is gentle, “hi there! I’m Leon!” his matching blonde tail wagging back and forth.

Something you hadn’t noticed before was that all the Hybrids had two sets of ears, their human ears and their animal ears, “do they all have two sets of ears?” you ask.

“So their animal ears aren’t actually ears, they’re simply appendages meant for cosmetics. Their human looking ears are their actual ears.” the coordinator replies, “this is Leon, he just turned 21; he’s a very calm boy, very loyal and friendly, but protective, too.”

“Oh sweetie he’s perfect for you! Look at him! He’s adorable!” your mom exclaims before speaking to the coordinator, “she lives in an apartment all by herself.”

“Oh! Leon would be perfect for you! What do you say?”

Your gaze shifts to Leon, his pretty blue eyes practically pleading at you, his tail still wagging.

You let out a heavy sigh, you can’t believe you’re actually doing this, “I’ll take him.”

🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

The next few days were a blur, consisting of filling out paperwork and buying things Leon would need for when he comes home. Thankfully Hybrids eat the same things humans do, so you just have to make sure you buy for two instead of just for yourself. The day came for Leon to come home to your apartment and your first order of business was getting clothes on him, having him naked all the time was just way too weird. That was proving harder than you anticipated.

“No! It’s itchy!” Leon whines, kicking off the pants and underwear you had put on him for the fifth time before curling up on the floor.

At that point you conceded defeat, you were just going to have to deal with him being naked for now. You guessed it made sense, he’s probably been naked his entire life. You watch him as he plays with a rubber bone you had bought him, immediately noticing his canine teeth were much sharper than a normal human’s would be. You look over in the corner where you had a large crate set up, it was actually at the coordinators recommendation that you get a crate for him even though the idea of putting him in it made you really uncomfortable. You’d hope you wouldn’t have to use it.

Your attention returns to Leon, who’s still playing with his bone happily, sporting this new collar you got him. It was a blue leather collar to match his eyes and had a bone shaped tag that had his name on the front and your contact info on the back.

“Leon,” you suddenly call to him, holding your hand out, “wanna play fetch?”

Leon immediately perks up onto his haunches before crawling over to you with the toy in his mouth.

You tried your damned hardest not to focus on his very large dick, even flaccid it was quite large. Again, you curse that he’s not a human internally. He drops the toy from his mouth into your hand and you reach out, giving him a scratch behind one of his dog ears. His cheeks turn red, leaning his head into your touch.

“Aren’t you a sweet boy…” you say before tossing the toy gently.

Leon chases after the toy, picking it up in his mouth and bringing it back over to you for you to throw again. You do this a few more times before Leon decides he’s had enough, he climbs up onto the couch next to you, laying his head in your lap as he stretches out across the rest of the couch, his tail making a rhythmic thumping sound as he wags his tail. You run your fingers through his hair, looking down at him.

His blue eyes look up at you and he smiles, “I love you, Mommy!”

You feel your breath hitch at his words, but you quickly recover and smile back, “love you too, Leon.”

🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

“Leon, get back here right now!”

You never thought you’d be starting your day chasing Leon around the living room with a pair of boxers in your hands.

“Leon, come on! My best friend is coming over and I can’t have you running around naked, at least wear these boxers for god’s sake! I even cut a hole in the back for your tail, just get over here so I can put them on!”

“No! It itches!” Leon protests, somehow managing to stay one step ahead of you as he darts around the living room on all fours.

After a while, you manage to corner him on the couch, quickly slipping on the boxers, making sure to pull his tail through the makeshift hole you had made. He starts to pull them off when you scold him.

“Leon, no! Do you want to go in the crate?”

Leon stops, pulling the boxers back up and giving you the most pathetic puppy eyes, “no, Mommy…”

“Then they stay on at least until my best friend leaves, ok?”

Leon nods, climbing off the couch, grabbing his rubber bone before climbing back onto the couch to chew on it.

“Thank you… good boy…” you say before you work on cleaning up your apartment for your best friend to arrive.

About a half hour goes by when you hear your phone go off, a notification displaying that there is someone at the door. With a couple of taps on your phone, your best friend’s face appears on the screen.

“Hey there, I’m here!” she says, giving you a big smile.

“Hang on Hailey, I’ll be right there!”

You go up to your apartment door, push a few buttons on the key panel next to the door and the door slides open. Hailey, your best friend since you were kids, comes in and gives you a hug.

“It’s been too long! What is it that you wanted to show me?” Hailey asks.

You motion for Hailey to follow you into the living room, where you find Leon still contently chewing on his bone, the boxers thankfully still on.

“Is… is that one of those Hybrids?!” the shock is evident in Hailey’s voice.

“Y-Yeah… mom convinced me to get him; his name is--”

“Hi there!” Leon sits up, his tail wagging in full circles as he looks to your friend, “I’m Leon!”

Hailey leans over to whisper into your ear, “are all Hybrids that hot?”

You elbow her, “shut up! It’s hard enough to deal with as it is without you mentioning it!”

Leon looks between the two of you, cocking his head in confusion, his tail still wagging, now hitting against the couch.

“Listen, I’m pretty sure most people fuck their Hybrids, like, look at him, how could you not?”

“Hailey, no! That’s fucking weird.”

“You’re telling me that you haven’t at least thought about it?”

“We’re not talking about this, not in front of Leon.”

Leon, meanwhile, has returned his attention to his rubber bone, chewing it aggressively when he suddenly picks up an unusual scent, one he’s never smelled before. He stops chewing, flaring his nostrils as he sniffs the air. Whatever it was, it smells sweet, almost like a wildflower. He quickly realizes that it’s you that smells like this, even though it was so faint. He wanted to get up and stuff his nose into you to take in more of this sweet smell, however, he knew he’d get in trouble, especially with your friend being here. To his dismay, you and your friend went back into the kitchen to hang out, bringing that irresistible smell with you.

🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

In the dead of night, Leon is restless, tossing and turning in his plush bed that sat at the foot of your bed. The smell from the other day has only become stronger over time and it was getting to Leon’s head. The smell was making his cock hard, something he hadn’t really experienced until now. It is almost painful; just him simply running his fingers along his cock made him flinch. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, he sat up, carefully climbing onto your bed. You were laying on your back, sound asleep with your legs spread open.

Leon gently crawls his way between your legs, the intoxicating smell emanating from the spot between your legs; he notices a dark spot on your panties. Gently, he presses his nose against the wet spot, inhaling deeply as his tail wags back and forth.

That’s it… that’s where that smell is coming from…

He glances up at you, you’re still sound asleep. He gently hooks a finger on your underwear, pulling them aside to reveal your glistening cunt to him; it practically makes him salivate. He hesitantly runs his tongue over your slit, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors the taste of you. You suddenly stir, your hips shifting slightly as a soft moan comes out of you. Your eyes flutter open and you look down to find, to your horror, Leon between your legs, eating you out.

You blink a few times before shouting, “LEON!”

Taking his mouth off of you, Leon’s eyes widen as he pushes himself off the bed, letting out a soft whimper as you sit up and cover yourself with your blanket.

“In your crate!” you point to the bedroom door, your face beet red, “now!”

“Mommy… I’m sorry… I just--”

“GET. OUT!”

Leon’s puppy ears droop and his tail tucks itself between his legs as he crawls out into the living room. You follow behind him, making sure he puts himself in his crate before shutting the crate door behind him. Looking up and whining at you, his fingers grip the bars of the crate as he stares up at you, pleading to you with his blue eyes. Unfortunately, you simply shake your head at him and walk back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Leon feels tears well up in his eyes as he grips the bars on the crate.

What did he do wrong? He was only doing what his instincts told him to do, why was that bad? Releasing his grip on the crate bars, he makes himself as comfortable as he possibly can in his situation, crying himself to sleep, your sweet scent still lingering in the air.

🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

You didn’t sleep a wink the rest of the night, between the sounds of Leon’s cries echoing through your bedroom door to just the thought of waking up to Leon eating you out disturbed you to your core. You finally get yourself out of bed, throwing on your pajama bottoms before walking out of your bedroom. You find Leon awake in his crate, his eyes red and puffy from crying all night. Upon seeing you, he immediately sits up, gripping the crate bars, his tail wagging so hard it was a blonde blur. Against your better judgment, you walk up to the crate, unlocking it to let him out.

As soon as you open the crate door, Leon bolts out, wrapping his arms around your legs, holding you tight. The fact that he buries his nose into you and deeply inhales doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Thank you for letting me out, Mommy! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll be a good boy, I swear!”

You pry his arms off you and push him away, “Just… just go play with your toys Leon…” you say before walking into the kitchen to make yourself coffee and breakfast.

Once you have your coffee and breakfast, you practically collapse at the small dining table, rubbing your face with your hands. What are you going to do? You could start crating him at night, but something about that didn’t sit right with you. Suddenly, you feel something rest on your lap and the sound of something thumping against the floor. You move your hands away from your face to find Leon’s head resting in your lap, his tail wagging against the floor.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you, his puppy ears erect and alert.

“Nothing, Leon…” you say with a sigh, “you must be hungry. I’ll make you something to eat…”

You get up from the table and over to the stove where you make him some eggs and bacon. Once finished, you put them on a plate and set it on the floor in front of him and watch as he scarfs it down. You sit back down at the table and slowly pick away at your breakfast and take sips out of your coffee mug. You feel Leon rest his head onto your lap again. You look back down, finding him looking up at you longingly, his tail wagging insistently.

“What is it, Leon?” you ask, leaning back in your chair.

Leon doesn’t say a word, however, as he climbs up until he’s face to face with you, staring directly into your eyes, his tail still wagging. He lets out a soft whimper as he grinds his hips into the side of your thigh. You happen to glance down, greeted with his painfully hard member rubbing against you. Looking back up at him, Leon whimpers again, his hands softly caressing your arms.

“Leon… are you ok…?”

You watch as Leon swallows hard before he continues rutting himself against your thigh, his breath trembling.

“I need… to mate with you…” Leon finally replies, his grip on your arms tightening as he continues to grind into your thigh.

Your heart begins to race as very conflicting feelings begin to overtake you.

This is so wrong, you think to yourself.

That thought doesn’t stop you as you lean forward, giving Leon a gentle kiss on the lips, cupping his face in your hands. Leon deepens your kiss, his tongue dancing with yours before playfully biting your bottom lip. You stand up from the table, leading him back into the bedroom, shutting the door before you begin to undress. As soon as you're naked, Leon stands up on two feet, pushing you into the bed face first so that your backside is propped up. You feel yourself tremble in anticipation as you feel Leon climb onto the bed behind you. You flinch when you feel his cock caress your soaked slit, coating itself in your arousal before he pushes himself inside you.

“Oh… Oh god--!” you cry out as Leon’s length fills you completely, pushing into your g-spot almost immediately, your fingers gripping your sheets.

You hear Leon whimper as his hips begin to move into you. He starts out slow, but he quickly gains confidence and begins to thrust into you harder and faster, his hands gripping your hips so hard that you’re bound to have bruises later.

“Yes… oh yes, Mommy… you feel so good…” Leon moans as he pounds into you harder, “am I a good boy…?”

“Yes…” you reply in a breathy moan as your eyes roll back into your head, “you’re such a good boy, Leon… you fuck Mommy so good…”

You feel his hands grip your hips even tighter as he pulls your body to him, thrusting into you even harder, his loud moans and whimpers filling the room along with the wet sounds of your needy cunt taking him.

“Aaaaahhh… f-fill me up with your puppies Leon--!” you suddenly cry out, your pussy walls squeezing around his cock as he continues to thrust into you.

Leon growls in response, placing one of his hands onto your back to push you into the mattress as he fucks you relentlessly. His instincts are in overdrive, his thoughts completely overtaken by his burning desire to breed you.

“Oh my god… you’re such a good boy, Leon!” you praise him, completely drunk off his cock, your legs trembling as you’re filled with complete ecstasy.

You suddenly feel his cock start to swell inside you and you quickly realize he is knotting. It feels surprisingly good, making you feel full. You sit up on your knees, pressing your back against his chest as he continues to thrust into you. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, nuzzling your cheek against his as his hands find their way to the front of your body, caressing your breasts as his chin rests on your shoulder.

“I can’t wait…” Leon starts, his voice rough, “to see your belly full of my puppies.”

You repeatedly moan his name, the word fuck and good boy as he pounds his cock into you, your legs starting to feel weak as they violently tremble. Before they give way, a sudden warmth fills your pussy as he pushes himself inside you as hard and deep as he possibly can, his hands gripping both your breasts tightly as he bites into your shoulder. You let out an animalistic moan as you also cum on his cock, your greedy cunt milking his seed deep inside your womb.

Both of you collapse onto the bed in exhaustion with his length still buried inside you, ensuring that not a single drop of his cum is wasted. His arms and legs wrap around you as his face nuzzles into the back of your neck. Your whole body is trembling, completely overwhelmed by how good Leon was for you. You reach back, running your hand through his hair and caressing one of his puppy ears, whispering softly to him that he is a good boy.

You’re going to get used to this.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #puppy!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes

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wildemaven · 5 months ago

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life and loss | joel miller

pairing: dave york x f!reader / joel miller x f!reader word count: 1k content warnings: 18+ blog; death, grief/loss, major character death (no description of said death), AU and crossover universes, kind of fluffy, navigating loss, reader is non descriptive/blank slate. notes: this randomly came to me yesterday on my walk. It was meant to be just a moodboard and a small blurb to go along with it… and then this happened. Oops! Tried to pack a lot into a small thing so hopefully it makes sense.

Momentos of him, your late husband, have remained tucked away for the last year following his unexpected death. As you settle into your new widowed life and new home over a thousand miles away from the life you created with Dave, all the beautiful memories reside in cardboard boxes out of sight.

Word travels quickly through the small neighborhood about your arrival and marital status— or lack thereof. Welcoming introductions turn into unannounced check-ins and flowers. Uncomfortable small talk on your front porch is sprinkled throughout the following weeks, a hand on your shoulder accentuates their let us know if you need anything. Sympathetic casseroles finally dwindle allowing you to finally ease into this new season of your life.

The hammock left by the previous owners becomes your sanctuary most evenings. Searching for the brightest star in the night’s sky, then asking Dave how he’s doing before reading aloud to him the words from your latest book.

It's days later when you’ve read the final word that a small voice from over the fence manifests as a quirky teenage girl sitting at a table you’ve set up on your back patio. She has a million and one questions about the book and is filled with theories about what happens beyond its ending. The side gate is never regularly latched closed now, eagerly awaiting Ellie’s return. She navigates most of your late night conversations that follow, including personal stories and the history of her life. My grump of an old man is in construction. He’s single by the way— not by choice, but life happens.

His voice is calloused the first time he makes his presence known to you. Goddamn it, Ellie! I told you to leave her alone! They exchange brittle words back and forth through the shared barrier, before you insist he join the two of you. The crunch of his boots on the ground stall when he towers over where you’re still seated. His hand engulfing yours, warm and gentle as he tries to determine where his gaze should fall— you, the ground, the smirking teenager sitting across from you. Joel. Joel Miller. Uh, Ellie n’ I live next door. Not sure how long she’s been botherin’ you, but I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again.

It’s weeks later when you run into Joel at the mailboxes. The clanking of keys and squeaky hinges fill the space between you before you’re both retreating back to your respective pathways. Your hands fidget and twist the bills and letters from your parents when you bravely initiate a conversation before he’s able to reach his front door. She’s the first person since moving here who wanted to talk to me about something other than the death of my husband. I don’t think I’ve laughed as much as I have with her in a long time. She’s welcome over here anytime.

He reeks of nervousness as he stands on your doorstep the following evening. The ambered hue of his eyes absorb the warmth from the front porch light, adding a brightness to them that they seem to be commonly lacking. His words waver a bit as he begins to speak, starting and stopping, scrubbing his hand down his face before he attempts to start again. You offer him nothing but patience, sensing the mournful energy radiating off him— similar to the one you’ve been carrying. My wife and older daughter— they were both in an accident on their way to Sarah’s soccer game. I was pickin’ up Ellie from her counseling group for adopted kids. We were headin’ to the soccer field when I got the call. Some days are harder than others. And everyone wants to help, however that may be— lots of food as I’m sure you know. It doesn’t ever really get easier, but you learn to live with grief. Anyways, if you ever need anything or just want to talk— you know where I live.

He accepts your impulsive invitation to join you for dinner, offering him the open seat across from you in the same spot as your timid first meeting. The crickets orchestrate the evening ambience as you share stories you’d tucked away, too painful to revisit until now. You find you laugh just as much, if not more, with Joel. Even among the tears shed, the conversation is filled with a hope and optimism that you longed for.

You still feel his wholesome embrace long after you’ve called it a night to seek out much needed sleep. But much like the nights that ensued after Dave’s death, loneliness and the weight of your grief rear its head.

The black ink glides over the surface of the paper. Line after line formulated a year’s worth of unsaid words that had been bottled up and blockaded by the rigid walls you’d built around them. Joel was right about the therapeutic effect of getting rid of the burdensome thoughts that come with loss, finding it’s hard to stop now that you’ve started.

You convey the love that you still carry for Dave, something you’ll never willfully ignore or regret. It feels wrong but you touch on the hatred you feel towards his death; you hate him for leaving you, hate that you miss him, hate that some nights you forget the small details that you cherished about him. You tell him about Joel and the kindness he’s afforded you in a short time of knowing him and that there’s life beyond losing the love of your life. To look for the light even when shrouded by darkness.

Pictures and trinkets find their way out of the cardboard confines Joel helped pull out from the guest room closet. The bare walls now filled with familiar faces and shelves adorn with colorful memories that you tried so hard to keep hidden.

Joel and Ellie being a constant presence in your life allows you to see that life can surprise you when you least expect it and there’s room for new love.

#Dave york #joel miller #dave york x reader #dave york x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #wildemaven moodboard #dave york imagine #joel miller imagine #wildemaven writes

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anyamaris · 1 year ago

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Purrfect Company

Word Count- 6726

Pairing- Boss!Lee Know x Employee!F!Reader

Trope/AU- Coworkers to lovers AU

Summary- Working at a cat cafe has a variety of perks, though you’re not sure if your crush on the handsome shop owner, Minho, counts as one. Despite it being the holidays, you have no one to spend it with so you’ve volunteered to take the shift at the cafe on Christmas eve. A power outage and a surprise visit from your seemingly rigid employer has you discovering things you might never have known otherwise. Maybe Minho has a warmer, softer side than you’d realized.

Warnings-Vulgar language, sexual language, unprotected sex, forbidden relationship dynamic (boss x employee), lots of pussy (ha!), MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

This is one of my two entries in our 16 Days of Smutmas 2023 Collab! Check out the other writers as well!!!!

A/N: Firstly, definitely an enormous thanks to @kwanisms for this collab, listening to me flail my way through it AND creating the BEAUTIFUL BANNER HEADER-ISNT IT GORGEOUS? ISNT SHE AMAZING?

A huge huge huge thank you to @sanjoongie for helping me through the many hurdles of writing this and reading snippets to ease my anxiety. It means more to me than you'll ever know. @millennial-fangirl as well for reading part of my smut and giving me helpful criticism, I love it so much!

Thank you to everyone who listens to me whine about everything always, I love you all.

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @ksmutsociety @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark@millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions@changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo

A huge thank you to @saradika and @cafekitsune for the amazing banners, without you creating them our work wouldn't look so beautiful!

“Goodnight! Happy Holidays!” You wave, closing and locking the door behind the sweet couple who had come in last minute to pick out a cat for their daughter. You can’t help but smile at the thought of the beautiful kitty who will get to wake up with a new family to love and accept her.

Turning, you smile at the few cats left in the living room/play area the owner had set up for them. The three left were napping, one on the couch and the two others curled up together on a cat tree. Humming happily, you turn to finish the few closing duties you have left. You’d closed down the cafe area after the couple had gone in to play with the cats and now you just had to make sure the till was put in the safe. You planned on spending some time with the last few cats before you made your way home for the evening.

It was Christmas Eve and as you turn to look out the window once more, you frown at the heavy snow coming down. “Figures, going to be hell going home,” you breathe out as you lock the safe, then the office door. You stretch and yawn, taking off your apron to hang as you make your way into the kitty area.

“Peanut, are you comfy?” you ask the lone orange tabby curled up on the sofa. Minho, the owner of the cafe, had furnished this area nicely for the comfort of the cats and the people who came to play with and possibly adopt them. If you took away the cafe portion, this could be the cozy living room in the home of any family.

Peanut peeks an eye out at you from under his tail to let out a soft trill as you sit beside him, running a hand over his velvety fur. “Merry Christmas to you, too. I wish I could take you home with me but I’m afraid I can’t have pets at my tiny apartment.” He purrs softly, leaning into your hand as you scritch his ear. He gets up and stretches then immediately climbs into your lap, curling up and making you beam proudly. You’ve always gotten along well with most of the cats here, and it always brought you joy to have them accept you.

Letting yourself relax, you close your eyes as you pet your comfy companion. The soft overhead christmas music lulls you into a half sleep and you don’t even realize you’ve drifted off until something draws you back to consciousness. Blinking yourself awake, you freeze as you suddenly hear a rattling noise from the other room, as if someone is trying at the doorknob. Peanut perks his ears up and lets out a soft growl at the disturbance, but you soothe him quietly as you lift him from your lap, placing him down so you can go to see what the noise is.

You’d accepted the shift for Christmas Eve without hesitation because everyone else had plans. You had only a studio apartment and the prospect of take out at home, so you’d volunteered so no one else had to work. Minho had entrusted you with the closing duties, and now here you were, faced with a possible break in.

Your heart pounding in your chest, you creep into the hallway leading to the back employee area, as well as the door to the back of the building. It feels as if your chest is going to explode from fear and anxiety as you watch the door creak open with wide eyes. Your thoughts on the cats you are there to protect, you reach out and grab the nearby broom handle, holding it out as you yell, “Stop, or you’ll regret it!”

The figure opening the door stops, their arms laden with something but you don’t process much else than a harsh sigh, then the lights are being flicked on. “Really, what are you going to do with that? Sweep me to death?” The male voice greets you and it takes you a brief moment before you realize the voice and face belong to your boss, the owner of this cafe.

Lee Minho.

Letting out a relieved sigh, you fall against the wall and clutch your chest. “I wasn’t aware that you’d be here this late, did something go wrong with closing?” Minho asks, then his eyes widen. “Are the cats alright?” His severe frown as he shoots a look behind you has you immediately responding. “No, no everything is fine, I just checked on them a moment ago and was going to head home.” you tell him, rubbing your eyes.

His eyes meet yours again and his eyebrows furrow. “At one in the morning?” he asks and you just blink at him. “Excuse me?” shaking your head, “No…I didn’t-” you turn around to dash back into the cat room, grabbing your phone. “Shit.” you say and you hear a soft laugh behind you. “Lose track of time?” He asks, coming in behind you and setting down the bags he had been holding. Peanut immediately runs to him, purring around his legs as the other two sleepy cats peek out to see what’s going on.

“I closed a little after 9pm, and everything was done. I sat down to pet Peanut and I guess I just….” you shrug, frowning. “I’m sorry, I promise I did everything for closing before I nodded off. Don’t worry, I will mark my time slip as off at 9pm.” you tell him, embarrassed, cheeks heating from having fallen asleep in your workplace.

“Nonsense, you were keeping the cats company on Christmas Eve. Peanut needed company, right buddy?” he asks, kneeling down to scratch his ears. You smile softly, noticing how much your boss seemed to go from the gruff, teasing, sarcastic man to this warm, caring soul when faced with feline company. Relaxing a bit, you remember your last part of the evening.

“Sylvie was adopted at the last minute, the couple said that they will let us know if their daughter changes her name when she gets her. Sylvie really loved them, they were here for a while with her before they took her home. They were very pleased.” you smile, watching Minho look up at you, his eyes widening in excitement as you speak. You have to stop your heart from thumping as he beams happily at the news. He was far too handsome for your health.

You definitely didn’t have a crush on your boss, definitely not.

“I’m so glad, she deserves a little girl to play with. How old is the daughter?” he asks, his eyes sparkling. “Twelve. They said that’s all she wants for a gift is a kitty to love. So I’m hoping it’s a good fit.” He smiles and nods, looking back down at Peanut, who is now sniffing at the bags he’d brought. “You’re stuck with me, pal. You, Luke and Leia. Christmas with Uncle Lino.” he coos at him, looking over at the pair napping. You can’t help but smile at the names of the two, one of Minho’s friends having named them when he stopped by.

Blinking at yourself just lingering and ogling your boss, you shake yourself out of it. “I’ll get out of your way.” you say, glancing at your phone again, finally noticing the missed messages. Frowning, you open a text from your neighbor. “It’s pretty nasty out-” you hear before your mind is processing the text sent hours ago. “Well, damn.” you mutter at your phone.

‘Hey-just fyi, power is out in the building. You might want to find somewhere else to stay if you have one!’ it reads and you just deflate from the news.

Of all things, especially on Christmas Eve when everyone was out of town or busy, you think.

“What’s wrong?” you hear from beside you, Minho’s voice concerned. Rubbing a hand over your face, you look out the window at the heavy snowfall. “I guess my building’s power is out.” Looking over at him, you can only smile and shrug, then lean down to pet Peanut as he winds around both of your legs. “Going to be a terrible Christmas Eve alone with no electricity, huh bud?” you whisper to him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Help me put this stuff away and then you can come upstairs and sleep on the couch.” When you open your mouth to protest he just turns his back and starts unloading the bags. “If you don’t feel comfortable, you can sleep down here with Peanut. Either way, there’s no point in going back to a place with no power. Unless you have someone who you can go to?” he asks, tossing you a look over his shoulder. Shaking your head, you glance one last time out the large window at the cold, white sheet obscuring any view and just sigh.

“If it’s really alright, I’ll take you up on it. I’ll stay.”

After helping put away the cat food and litter he’d brought in, you smile as he takes another bag of toys and opens each, letting Peanut sniff at them. Luke and Leia are finally stirring, peeking out to see what’s going on. You can’t help but smile as they just yawn and curl back around each other. Lucky kitties, you think. Am I jealous of the cats? You ask yourself, suppressing a small laugh.

Minho stands, noticing your look and he clears his throat. “Come on, I bet you haven't even eaten anything since before your shift started.” He says harshly, but when you look over at him, he’s smiling softly. “I-” you start, then wince, shaking your head. “Are you spying on me?” you ask him with a laugh and he just stares at you for a moment, then nods once. “Of course I am.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his deadpan expression as he turns to go to the door leading upstairs. “I hadn’t thought to ask but…what’s upstairs?” Without looking back, he starts up the stairs leaving you to follow behind. “I live up here, leave the door cracked, please. The cats like to come upstairs if they get bored down here.” he says and you smile as he leads you into a big open space apartment.

“Oh wow….I had no idea you actually lived here.” You say, looking around. He smiles as he turns on some lights and takes off his shoes, and you do the same. You make sure to leave the upstairs door cracked as well, noticing his approving nod. “Mmm…I bought it years ago, when I first moved here. The downstairs was being leased out to a bakery. Once they left when their lease was up…” he just shrugs, shooting you a look over his shoulder as he makes his way into the living area.

“Wow, what made you want to turn it into a cat cafe?” You ask him as he gestures for you to sit. “Make yourself at home. Do you want something to drink?” he asks, heading into the kitchen. “Sure, whatever you have is fine.” He hums as he goes into the fridge, pulling out some water bottles. “I’ll make some tea.” He says, turning on the electric kettle, then he comes to sit next to you, handing you the water. “Thank you.” you say and he smiles, leaning back to look around.

“It’s not a very … interesting story.” he finally answers, his lip twitching. “You’re likely to think I’m weird.” he says, eyes darting over to you. Twisting off the cap to drink, you recap it as you set it down and try not to grin. “And if I already do?” You say, surprising yourself at your boldness. Before you can regret your remark, he throws his head back, letting out a laugh and it makes you smile as he looks back at you with a smile to echo your own. “Well, then I have nothing to worry about.” He quips and you blush, looking away.

He really was far too attractive and here you were with him, alone, on Christmas Eve. Ignoring the pleasant warmth in your stomach, as well as the fluttering, you turn your attention back to his words as he answers.

“When I moved here, I really missed my cats back home.” he is saying, smiling as Peanut slips through the opening of the door. “I have three at my parents house.” he says, watching the big orange cat wander off to explore. “Aww, I bet that was really tough.” you respond, frowning, remembering your own cats you left behind to move here. He just nods, continuing. “Well, one day I found two kittens outside in a box, and I couldn’t leave them. So I brought them home. Then another followed me home a few weeks later after I fed it. The next thing I know, I had seven cats and a space downstairs to lease out.”

“Wow! Seven cats?” you exclaim, blinking in disbelief at him. “And counting.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I couldn’t leave them out in the streets. I was trying to figure out how to keep gathering all these stray cats and figure out how to rehome them, all while trying to work.” You just look around, taking in the apartment. While it was spacious for more than one person, you couldn’t imagine having seven plus cats roaming around without the downstairs.

“So you just thought, ‘Oh I'll open a cat cafe’?” you can’t help but smile at him. He shrugs, tilting his head as he hums softly. “Pretty much. I had some help from friends and family, thankfully.” His gaze feels suddenly intimate for some reason as you relax into the conversation, his deep brown eyes warm and soft. Finding yourself leaning towards him more as you listen, you both are startled when the kettle starts to beep and he clears his throat, standing to go to the kitchen.

“Actually….” he stops halfway there, looking out at the fat snowflakes falling down, then turning to look at you. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” he asks and you smile at him, nodding happily. “That sounds amazing actually.” You lean your head on your hand, watching over the back of the couch as he busies himself in the kitchen, inhaling blissfully as the scent of chocolate slowly permeates the open space.

Your earlier embarrassment has faded into almost happiness at falling asleep with Peanut, grateful that you’re not in a cold, lonely apartment tonight. The scent of the cocoa mixed with the euphoria of having an actual conversation with Minho has you in an odd headspace. In the months you’ve worked for him, you can’t remember having many conversations with him. He was always on the go, in and out of the shop, most of his time being spent with the cats.

That’s what started this silly crush, you think.

Watching him talk to the cats, cooing at them, playing with them when he had any free time. Admiring the way all of the felines would flock to him, noticing him immediately when he came in bearing food and treats, as well as a variety of toys and new furniture for their temporary living space.

The way he checked in on all of the cats that got adopted, treating them like each one was his child. How he cared for them, expression lighting up when he comes through the door to see the beautiful furry creatures; playing, fed and happy. He truly was dedicated to their well being and watching it over the months you’ve spent working for him, it had definitely interested you in finding out who he truly was.

You can’t lie to yourself as you listen to him hum a soft tune, smiling as he turns to mix the drink in a saucepan. It was pointless to deny that that simple crush on a handsome man was turning into a little bit more.

Not that you’d expect anything from it, of course. He was your boss, you were his employee. That’s not even accounting for his own personal feelings. You didn’t have any illusions about anything happening, but you just couldn’t deny it any longer. You’d just keep it to yourself, enjoying that sense of being young and silly, pining over the unobtainable. Sometimes that’s all you need, just something to look forward to, for yourself.

“Are you alright?” you hear him say, snapping you out of your thoughts as he walks over, carrying two steaming mugs. “It’s hot, be careful.” he says, an almost worried look on his face as he hands you one of the drinks. You can’t help but smile and blush at his concern, feeling suddenly like you’re getting an inside view of what the cats must feel like under his care.

He raises an eyebrow at you as he blows on his own drink, sipping at it carefully. “I’m fine, just ….” you look down at the cocoa, the smell making you feel more nostalgic for the holidays than you’ve felt for a long time. “Just?” he asks, frowning as he blinks at you with those beautiful eyes. Letting out a sigh, you take a tentative sip, your eyes widening at the flavor. “Wow…this is…amazing!” you say, taking another sip of the warm, rich beverage. His eyes light up at your words and he smiles proudly. “It’s homemade, not the powder, it’s quite different from the packets you get.” He tells you and you nod, savoring each sip. “Well, it’s delicious. I don’t think I’ve had cocoa in ages, let alone something this good….ever.” His eyes crinkle at the sides as he looks down and you swear you can see him blush a bit. You might have to compliment him more if he was going to react like this, you think.

“It’s fairly easy, I just happened to have the ingredients. I thought for Christmas Eve it was a bit more festive.” he says, and you nod as you watch him talk. “Speaking of….” he says, brow furrowing suddenly, “Why did you decide to work tonight?” He asks, settling back as he turns to you, his gaze curious.

You hum as you raise a shoulder to shrug, “I don’t have family in the area, and we don’t really celebrate together much, as everyone gets really busy this time of year. All the friends I have here all had plans, and honestly, it’s really just another day to me most of the time. I figured I’d give everyone else the night to spend with people since they all seem more interested in that.” His hum and pursed lips as he nods has you suddenly realizing he’s alone as well.

“What about you? You mentioned your parents and cats at home, why are you here?” you ask and he smiles, rocking his head back and forth as he thinks. “This year, I decided to send my parents on a vacation since they’ve worked so long and hard all their lives. I gave them the gift early and they are currently on a beach somewhere nice and warm. As they should be.” he says, smiling softly.

Your heart thumps at his expression, your throat closing at how very caring he was for the people he loved. Suddenly, you feel overwhelmed with some feeling you can’t define, almost as if the idea of being loved that much made you feel happy and extremely lonely all at once. You almost laugh as tears spring to your eyes and he blanches, looking shocked.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asks as you wipe at a stray tear and you let out a soft chuckle at your foolish emotions. “Oh yes, sorry. Just thinking of how proud they must be of you, to have raised such a caring, lovely son.” Your words take him off guard and he looks down into his drink, blinking rapidly. “I don’t know if I’d say all that…” he says, his cheeks flushing red. You bite your lip, having to look away from how adorable he looks being shy.

“Really, I don’t know many people who think like you do. How you are with the cats as well as your family…” you shake your head. “Most people tend to think of the holidays as a time for getting things, I’ve found.” He hums softly, the silence between you slightly tense but far from awkward as you both enjoy your drinks. “I’ve been meaning to ask…” he says, clearing his throat as he sets down his mug on the coffee table. “Hm?” you say, curious. “I thought you’d be spending the holiday with someone special. I figured you’d have someone waiting for you at home.” He says, studying you. “Someone special?” you ask, then realize what he’s asking.

“Ah…no, I don’t have anyone. I broke up with my last boyfriend shortly after starting work here.” you gesture around you. “Ah yes, that’s why I thought….” he trails off, looking away. “I noticed a man coming in when you started so I just figured.” He shrugs and you sigh, frowning as you set your mug next to his. “No, we broke up…he…it’s a stupid story.” you laugh without any amusement, waving it off. “Oh?” he says, leaning forward a bit. “If you don’t want to-” You shake your head, making a sour face. “Long story short, I found out I wasn’t his only girlfriend. So, I broke it off.”

The look on his face has you bursting into laughter. The sheer disgust is so adorably cute, his lip curling as he lets out a ridiculous noise of revulsion that you just can’t help but snort as you giggle loudly. It only seems to encourage him as he repeats the noise, adding, “Is he stupid?” You just nod as you wipe your eyes, this time the tears are from your laughter and you can feel your stomach hurting from it. “Yes, that was my thought, honestly.” you tell him, his sudden smile bringing butterflies to dance in the pit of your stomach.

“He must be, I wouldn’t-” he stops, shaking his head. “Any man like that isn’t worth your time. Better off without him!” he says, throwing his hand up into the air. You laugh again and this time he joins you, the shared moment has you relaxing back into the cushions as you turn to settle more comfortably on the couch, facing him fully.

“Yeah, definitely.” you sigh, “Still lonely around this time of year though.” His smile slips and you decide to not ruin the mood. “What about you? I didn’t even know you lived up here, I thought you’d have some big house with a wife somewhere.” you say and he winces, looking away. “No, it’s been a while since I’ve dated. Between the cats and running the cafe, I’ve kept myself from being too lonely. I have everything I need right here.” he says, eyeing you. “Besides, being alone doesn’t always mean being lonely,” he says, giving you a look.

“That’s entirely true. I do enjoy my time to myself, plus it’s easy to just crush on someone to keep myself from thinking too much about a relationship. Sometimes it’s better to live in my own head and create my own narrative than to deal with another person.” you say with a smirk and he raises his eyebrows in response. “A crush?” he asks and you freeze, realizing you’ve likely said too much. “Sure, why not? Everyone has crushes throughout their lives.” you say nonchalantly, shrugging a shoulder.

“Who’s this crush?” He asks teasingly, but you swear his eyes darken a bit, almost dangerously. Swallowing, your cheeks heat up as you look away. “Nobody it would ever work with, so it’s not really important.” you respond and sneak a peek at him. He’s studying you intently, not smiling and the room is suddenly oddly tense. “Don’t tell me it’s some idol-” he starts but you wave your hand, laughing softly. “No, nothing like that. I mean, of course I have those as well but that’s not what I meant.”

“What about you? Or is raising kitten children your only passion?” You tease and he raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Hm…” he hums, “Strangely enough, my answer is much like yours. Nothing that would ever work.” It’s your turn to be curious, leaning forward towards him. “Why wouldn’t it?” you ask him, wondering what would stop this man from pursuing anyone lucky enough to catch his interest. His lip twitches and he suddenly leans forward with a sly grin. “It’s one of those taboo things.” he says cryptically, his wicked grin drawing your attention. “Taboo?” you say, scooching forward and widening your eyes dramatically. “Well now that sounds interesting. What’s so forbidden about this person?” you ask softly, trying not to grin. You’d never seen or heard of him being involved, that’s why you assumed he must be married, or voluntarily single.

“Well, aren’t you the gossip.” he shoots back and you laugh. “I mean, yes. Just wondering what would keep a man like you from doing anything he wanted.” His eyes widen as his eyes flick down to your lips, then back up and he clears his throat. “A man like me?” he asks, and you can feel the tension again building at the softness of his voice, the nearness of him. You take a moment to collect your thoughts, not wanting to sound ridiculous.

“You’re successful from what I know, of course I don’t know everything about you. Just from the outside looking in. You’re handsome, caring, you have your own place, run a business. You’re funny, you make amazing hot chocolate-” You stop at his look, at how his adam's apple dips as he swallows thickly. “Do you plan on pursuing your interest…your…crush?” He asks you in a whisper and your cheeks flush, heating up at the very idea. What he’s asking...how easy it would be to just lean a bit more forward….

“No…I can’t.” you shake your head, looking down. “Why not?” he asks softly, and your whole body feels like it’s vibrating from his nearness. “It would be unprofessional and I doubt he’d even look at me like that.” you say without thinking. His eyebrows raise then draw together at the comment, confusion on his face for a moment as you feel embarrassment wash over you.

“But the only guy-” he says, shock registering on his face. “He’s married!” he gasps and you blink at him as you realize he’s thinking of your other male coworker. “No! Oh my god, do you think I’m that horrible?” you ask, stunned. “Of course it’s not him it’s y-” your words catch in your throat as you stop yourself too late, his goading making you thoughtless. “Forget about it, it’s nothing, really.” you say, turning to stand, to go somewhere-anywhere but here.

Before you can though, he’s grabbing your arm, tugging you back down, his eyes large, dark and serious as he pulls you towards him. “Me?” he asks, and there is no way you can read the look on his face. Your stomach bottoms out as you realize just how badly you just fucked up. Here you were, in your boss’s apartment, with nowhere to go and a snow storm outside.

You were going to lose your job, you just knew it. You know how inappropriate it is to-

“Is it me?” he asks, this time a bit more forcefully, his words snapped out. Slumping back, you close your eyes and sigh out softly, unwilling to look at him. “I know it’s not right, you're my boss. it’s unprofessional and I-”

“You’re fired.” he says harshly.

Despite knowing it was coming, your eyes snap open to protest just in time for him to close the distance between you; any words that were about to leave your lips dissipates as he slips a hand behind your neck, pulling your mouth into his. Your body stiffens for the briefest of seconds before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck, combing your fingers into his hair as his tongue slips along the seam of your lips. You shiver at the growl that escapes from deep in his throat when your tongues meet, his arm sliding around your back to yank you closer to him.

Giving in completely to the moment, you shift with him as he guides you into his lap. Pure instinct takes over as you move together, his fingers prying at your clothing, yours threading through his hair. As your thighs settle on either side of his and you press down into his lap, he moans into your mouth. You gasp between kisses as his hand settles on your lower back, pressing you down against his stiff length through your clothing.

“I want you.” He purrs out as his mouth parts from yours, looking up at you with those rich, lustrous eyes. You can barely catch your breath as you take in his gorgeous swollen lips, parted as he gazes up at you with desire. “You can have me,” you declare, your body almost humming for him and without another thought, his hands are traveling up your back, his hips lifting as you grind against him. “Take me, Minho~” you utter, tugging at his hair. “Fucking christ-” he hisses, burying his face into your neck.

As his lips brush the skin of your neck, you tilt your head for him, rocking your hips against his hardness. You should be ashamed at how your panties are already soaked from his touch but you can’t feel anything but need, pure carnal lust for him right now.

Consequences be damned, the way you needed him was the only thing on your mind.

“Take this off.” You manage to say as you shudder under his mouth. It takes him a moment to register that you’re tugging on his shirt and his tongue darts out to lick your neck where he was kissing before he leans back and helps you remove the garment, his hands immediately yanking your shirt over your head as well.

Tossing it to the side, he takes a moment to lean back and admire you, his dark gaze hungry as he runs his hands up your sides. “Fucking gorgeous, just like I always imagined you would be.” Your breath catches at his words, at the look in his eyes for you. He leans forward to press his face between the valley of your breasts and you let out a long moan. “Smell so fucking good, too.”

Everything he’s doing is causing you to clench like crazy, small mewling noises escaping from your throat as his hands work at the clasp of your bra. “Minho-” you shiver as you feel him free you from it, sliding the straps down your arms. “God, keep saying my name.” He groans, his cock twitching against you as he pulls your bra down to reveal your bare tits.

“So beautiful,” he whispers as his lips close around your nipple. Your fingers dig into his scalp, your other hand gripping his shoulder as he sucks harshly at the sensitive bud. “Please…” you whimper as his hands slip up to cup the flesh of your breasts, kneading them as he lets your nipple go with a popping sound, immediately moving to the other to do the same. Your breathing is ragged as you reach between you to tug at the button of his pants.

“Not here.” he rasps out, then he’s sliding you off his lap, standing you both up. Before you can protest, his hands are around your waist, his mouth back on yours, his tongue urgently seeking your own. You return your hands to the front of his jeans, unbuttoning, then unzipping as he backs you up towards the hallway.

“Door-” he says between kisses as you are pushed against it. He reaches behind you to twist the knob and then he’s walking you into the room, the back of your knees hitting the bed. He stops as you slide your hand into his now open pants, slipping your palm along him through his boxers. He lets out a low groan as you touch him, his hands cupping your ass before he’s shoving your pants down as well.

“Tell me you want this-” he gasps out as his hands run over your bare skin, his lips tracing your collarbone. “I do, more than anything-” you respond, tugging off his remaining clothing as well. “I need to make sure, I don’t want to make you feel pressured-” he says as he pulls you close, brushing his lips against yours. “I swear, Minho, there’s nothing I want more than this.” You tell him as he pauses to study your eyes, the concern ebbing away as he watches you, his fingers skimming your lower back.

“I’ve been dying to hear you say that to me.” he whispers, and the urgency seems to fade as he leans in to kiss you deeply. For a moment you both stand there lips connected, your arms around his neck, his hands roaming your back. Then his hands cup your bare ass, yanking you firmly against his stiff cock as he moans your name. You pull him down with you onto the bed, your mouth never leaving his as he settles between your legs, the underside of his cock pressing along your wet core.

He growls softly as he moves his hips against you, and you arch your back as the length of him parts your folds. Breath hitching as the ridge of his head brushes against your clit, you look up into his half lidded eyes as his lips part. “Tell me again.” he whispers, his hand dropping down to clutch behind your thigh and raise it around his hip. “Tell me you want me.” he hums as he watches your eyes roll back from the ache of clenching around nothing.

You reach up to comb your fingers through his hair, digging your nails into his shoulder as he rolls his hips again. “I need you so much-Minho-please I want you so fucking much-” you manage to gasp out. His eyes darken as he reaches down between you, pulling back to cup you, his fingers sliding through your drenched lips to part them. “For me?” he asks, his voice low as he dips down to brush his lips to yours. He swallows your moan with a kiss as he pushes his finger into you, tasting your panting as you tighten around it. “All for you-” you cry as his tongue plunges into your mouth.

He deepens the kiss as he pulls his finger from you, suppressing any protests. Any dismay at the loss is replaced with pleasure as he guides the tip against your slit, slipping along your folds, teasing at your clit. There are no thoughts in your mind, only overwhelming need as he rubs his head along you, finally, finally giving in to your wordless pleas as he presses it against your tight hole. As he thrusts forward suddenly, he breaks the kiss with a cry of his own, your walls giving as he stretches you.

“Minho….. Minho-,” his name echoes through the room to mix with his moans as he draws back to snap his hips forward again. “So fucking….tight!” he bites out, his breathing heavy as he drops his head into your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. As he starts to plunge in and out of you, your legs wrap around his waist as you tilt your hips for him.

Your nails run down his back as he fucks you, making his motions stutter as he moans loudly for you. “So good, oh fuck-Minho!” your cries have him propping himself up to look down at your face. “Yeah?” he asks, his nose wrinkling as he puts more force behind his thrusts. “Yeah? Like that?” he asks and you have to clutch his hair as your body jerks, your tits shaking the harder he moves. “Yes! YES! I - LOVE IT-” you scream, words devolving into loud, animalistic moans.

“Your-cunt- is so-fucking-divine-” he gasps out, each word punctuated by his cock delving deep and hard into you. You can feel the familiar tight burning sensation building deep within you as your legs shake, as he slips a hand under your back, as he lunges forward to wrap his lips around your nipple to suck and nip at it. The friction of his pelvis rubbing against your clit, and his mouth on you has your entire being vibrating and you start wailing his name over and over as you begin to clench.

“OH FUCK-” his voice grates out as he releases your nipple, his breath hitching as your climax hits you like a boulder, blindly intense as you arch beneath him. “Fuck fuck fuck I can’t-” he cries out as his hips falter, his pace becoming erratic. “COME!” you scream out desperately, clinging to him as you shudder and his mouth crashes into yours as he lets go, bursting in a hot flood deep within you. Your kiss is frenzied, crying wordlessly into each other as you come together. His thrusts slow, lazily emptying himself into you finally as he gasps with every clench of your pussy around him.

As you finally come down, he collapses onto you, nuzzling his face into your now sweaty neck, his chest pressing firmly against yours. You can feel the fast beat of his heart as he places small kisses along your damp skin, along your collarbone and you slowly comb your fingers through the strands of his hair. “Fuck.” he whispers, kissing his way up to your lips, his own fingers smoothing back your hair. “Fuck.” you echo and he smiles softly, drawing back to study your eyes. You can only smile dreamily at him, completely exhausted from the entire experience.

He slowly rolls you both on your sides, facing one another as he pets your hair, placing kisses to your lips. “I…” he starts, gasping as you clench around him again and he laughs softly. Then his face registers a sudden shock as you adjust and he slips out of you. Your thighs are damp from your combined releases and he blinks rapidly, worry on his features. “Oh fucking hell-I didn’t even think about-” he cups your face but you shake your head, silencing him. “I’m on the pill. Sorry, I ….wasn’t even thinking about that.” he relaxes slightly, pressing his forehead to yours as he closes his eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, this wasn’t exactly what I expected to happen.” he murmurs, his gaze studying your face. “Unexpected but not unwanted.” you reassure him, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear. You can’t help but blush as he smiles at you softly, pulling you closer to him to hold onto you. “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one…” he whispers against your mouth as he kisses you again.

He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him to settle your head on his chest, playing with your hair as you wrap around him. The silence settles around you as you savor the moment with him, both of you just touching and kissing each other, exploring one another deep into the night.

Finally as exhaustion begins to overwhelm you, you look up at him with sleepy eyes and he smiles down at you. “Tomorrow…we can talk about everything.” You nod against him and then suddenly you remember, snapping your head up.

“You fired me!”

His laughter makes you frown, and he just kisses your nose. “Just for now, kitten. Don’t worry.”

The cat cafe is humming with excitement, and it’s just another day that you get to watch families take home the much deserving animals to become their family. Peanut keeps you company, of course. He was now a permanent fixture at the cafe as Minho had decided to keep him. As the day winds down and you lock the door, you feel the familiar arms of your boss wrap around you from behind, placing a kiss on your neck.

“Lee Minho! How dare you do that with an employee!” You berate him, unable to stop yourself from laughing as he spins you around. “Ah yes, I forgot. I’m horrible.” he purrs out, touching his forehead to yours.

“You’re fired. Now kiss me.”

#cultofdionysusnet #ksmutsociety #16 days of smutmas 2023 #lee minho skz smut #Lino smut #Lee Know smut #skz fanfic #skz smut #Stray kids smut #Stray kids au

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wheredafandomat · 7 days ago

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Loki x mum! Reader

18+| contains alcohol, loss, Loki and reader share a child. I’m sorry I haven’t written anything in AGESSS

You quickly turned the radio off as the news reporter reeled off a string of recent burglaries that had happened in your neighbourhood. Grabbing your scarf, you adjusted it around your neck as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, offering a half smile as you tried not to focus on the bags colouring the skin beneath your eyes. You took a breath, your smile widening uncannily as your daughter padded towards you, half of her glove dangling off of her small hand.

“Is daddy going to be there?” She asked excitedly as you knelt down, helping her with her glove.

“No—not today” you hesitated “but one—one day he’ll be home” you rushed out, not believing your own words. The truth was, Loki hadn’t been home in almost a year. You didn’t know when he was going to come back, no one did. Unless they did and were just refusing to tell you. You took a steadying breath, cursing the fact that you no longer had the clearance to find out how the mission was going before doing what you had been doing since the day you lost communication. What you were taught. Assuming the worst. You faked a smile again, composing yourself before leaving.

Once you had come home from shopping, you unpacked before continuing the routine you had adopted since Loki had left. Making dinner, alone. Feeding your daughter, alone. Putting her to bed, alone. Showering, alone. Having a glass of whine, which was a step you had added recently, alone. Going to bed, alone and cuddling a picture of Loki. A tear began to pool in the corner of your eye as you looked at the picture, a memory of him overtaking you.

“If you ever need me, just say my name three times” he assured, squeezing your shoulder.

You closed your eyes, holding the picture against you as his name left your trembling lips. You called it three times. Hoping, praying that he’d hear, that he’d come. But alas. Silence met your awaiting ears.

“Liar” you sniffled through tears before begging sleep to overtake you.

By the time the morning came, the warmish glow of the winter sun had covered your room, waking you up before your daughter did. The morning routine was similar to the night one in the sense that it was done alone now.

“We’re going to see Santa today baby” you smiled, pressing the porcelain mug against your lips as you sipped your coffee.

“Yayyy” she exclaimed, her spoon almost flying out of her hand as she threw her arms in the air.

Two hours and another cup of coffee later, there you were in the mall, the line for Santa's grotto alarmingly long. You took a breath, looking at the workers dressed as elves as they spoke to some of the children further up in the line than you.

“Are you excited to see Santa?” One of them exclaimed, smiling widely at your daughter who answered with the same amount of enthusiasm.

You narrowed your gaze slightly the closer you got to the front of the queue, the elves beginning to look slightly more real. You were no stranger to elves. Loki had taken you on a tour of the nines when you were an agent and Alfheim was one of them. But this wasn’t Alfheim.

“Quit staring lady” one of them interrupted your suspicions as you reached the front of the queue.

“Sorry” you spoke, clearing your throat.

Sitting on Santa’s lap, your daughter began listing the things she wanted for Christmas as you took some pictures before her time was over.

“And what about you?” Santa asked, surprising you.

“What?” You answered just above a whisper.

“What is it you want this Christmas?” He smiled generously, your eyes meeting as all words escaped you.

“I-I don’t—” you began.

“You can’t lie to me” he reminded you, your gazes still connected as you lost yourself in this stare.

“Loki” you finally utter, truthfully. “I want Loki”

“Next” one of the elves called before you could even register what had happened. As if on autopilot, you picked your daughter up before heading home before performing the night routine, however this night, you felt off.

The following day rolled around and you took your daughter to her grandparents house.

“You are looking after yourself right” your mum asked, her eyes darting around your face.

“Yes mum” you huffed.

“You know you are still my baby” she reminded you.

“Yes mum” you answered in a softer tone.

“I’ll be round tomorrow with the angel” she smiled, looking at your daughter “don’t forget to stuff the turkey and preheat the oven to—”

“Yes mum” you quickly interrupted “bye mum.”

Getting home, you poured yourself a glass of wine before you began your food prep. Downing the liquid, you pourned yourself another, almost halfway through the bottle before pouring another. You began feeling what could only be described as tipsy before accidentally burning one of your fingers on the pot.

“Ouch” you yelped, running to the sink before putting it under cold water.

As you covered your finger in water, you looked down at it, unable to help the tears that escaped you, your eyes mirroring the tap. Just before you began to cry even more, you heard a crash upstairs, immediately sobering up as you turned the tap off. Suddenly the thousands you had spent on training to become an agent and the years you had spent on the frontline kicked in as you stealthily walked up the stairs. Whoever had broken in chose the wrong house you thought to yourself, remembering the burglaries. Following the noise, it led you to your bedroom as you carefully pushed open the door before gasping, your heart falling to the ground as your eyes met Loki’s dishevelled body laying in your bed. You honed in on the gash on his forehead, sprinting for gauze before you rushed to his side, clearing the blood. Disbelief shrouded you as you began to shake him awake.

“Lokiii, Lokiii” you called, half wondering how strong that wine was.

“Y/n?” You heard fondly, quietly as he stirred awake, you wrapping your arms around him.

The two of you embraced, no questions needing to be asked as your lips met. No words left either of your lips as you helped Loki into the bathroom, undressing him before turning the shower on. You didn’t leave his side, not wanting this potential mirage to fade into nothingness, not wanting Loki to leave again. As you guided him back into the bedroom, you still asked no questions, they could wait until tomorrow.

Wrapping your arms around one another, you embraced, the warmth of Loki’s arms around you, intoxicating you. Taking a deep breath, you breathed him in, your lips pressing against his exposed chest. You felt his lips on your forehead as you moved closer against one another. Home, you felt home.

Had to take a break from writing my assignment to write something Christmassy. Hope you enjoyed!! And I hope you have a wonderful Christmas if you celebrate ❤️

Tags in comments

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#loki fanfiction #loki #loki imagines #loki laufeyson imagine #loki marvel #loki oneshot

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winchesterwild78 · 29 days ago

Text

An Unexpected Friendship pt 10

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: FLUF, Smut!

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.

This chapter is the FINAL chapter. I’ve loved creating this story with @cheekygirl2309. I’ve had so much fun and enjoyed reading all of the love and support for this story.

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written and edited fast-please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

The next few months were so amazing. Jensen was true to his word and invited Josh’s parents to every big event we had. I was grateful they came and felt like they were family. Jazzy was also so proud of her new last name.

When we went to the school to change her name, she proudly announced she was an Ackles. The secretaries smiled and congratulated her. In public she would introduce Jensen as her daddy. Since our engagement and the adoption, social media had exploded with stories and pictures of all of us.

Jensen and I officially went public and most of the fans were supportive. I did my best to tune out the negative and focus on the positive ones. It was hard at times, but I knew I had Jensen to help navigate me through it.

Jensen and I talked about the wedding and we both agreed we wanted a small, intimate ceremony with just our children, close family and friends. Since Jensen officiated his wedding, Jensen reached out to Jeffery Dean Morgan to officiate ours. He was thrilled to do it. I was excited to meet him and his family. We had FaceTimed, but never met in person.

Jensen and I also wanted to write our own vows. It took me by surprise when he mentioned it. I was nervous, because how do you really put into words how someone saved you when you thought you weren’t worth saving. I love Jensen, and I only hoped I could put it into words good enough to show him how much he means to me.

Our wedding date was set, we were going to have a Spring wedding. Mid-April, at dusk, and hopefully under a tent. I of course told Jensen we needed a backup plan in the event of rain. “It’s Texas sweetheart, I don’t think it’s going to rain.” “Still, I’d like a backup plan.” I chuckled.

“Okay, how about we have it at The Allan House, right here in Austin? It has space inside and out. So if we have to move it inside we can still have it in the same place. The ceremony and reception can all be there.” He pulled it up on the computer and the photos were breathtaking. I smiled, “Jensen, it’s beautiful. Do you really think we can book it?”

“Absolutely, I know the owner, so I’ll give them a call.” I playfully rolled my eyes, “Of course you do.” Jensen laughed and called. When he got off the phone he smiled, “We’re all set, sweetheart. Are you ready to start planning our wedding?”

I smiled and pulled him in my arms, “Yes, Jensen! I’m more than ready.”

*Time Jump 3 days before the Wedding*

“Jensen, I need to go with Gen and Nichole to pick up my dress. When is Jeff coming in again?” “He should be here today. His wife and the kids will be coming in tomorrow I believe. He’s going with me today to get fitted for his tux. I gave the tailor his measurements, so I hope it fits.” “Me too, Jens. Okay, I’ll be back later. I love you.” “I love you too, the kids are going with mom and dad for the afternoon, so when you get back they won’t be here.”

I grabbed my stuff and nodded. As I got to the door I heard Jensen clear his throat. “Did you forget something, darlin’?” I turned on my heels and chuckled, “Nope.” I said, popping the “p” as I leaned in and kissed him goodbye. “How could I ever forget kissing you. It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

Jensen chuckled, “Oh and what are some of your other favorite things to do?” I smirked, got really close to his lips again and said, “you”. Then kissed him again. He grabbed my hand as I tried to pull away, “Then what’s stopping you?” Jensen pulled me flush to his strong body and I felt his arousal straining against his jeans.

“Baby I have an appointment at the dress shop. I don’t want to miss it, unless you want me to get married naked.” Jensen wiggled his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes and playfully hit his chest, “Jens, I’m not getting married naked. Sorry to disappoint you.” Jensen threw his head back and laughed.

He kissed me again and we said our goodbyes.

I arrived at the dress shop with a few minutes to spare. Gen and Nichole were waiting outside for me. They hugged me and we walked in. “Y/N! So happy to see you. Your dress is ready. Are you ready to try it on one last time?” I smiled and nodded.

Gen and Nichole sat on the couches and waited for me. When I came around the corner both of them gasped and I saw tears in their eyes. Sally, the owner, walked behind me and fluffed the dress as I stood on the platform. “Okay, Y/N, one last touch.” She placed a veil on my head. I took a deep steady breath looking in the mirror. I looked over my shoulder at Nichole and Gen with tears in my eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Jensen isn’t going to know what hit him.” I stood there looking in the mirror and the realization hit me. I was about to get married to Jensen and I had nobody to walk me down the aisle.

Tears started to fall. My mother had passed away not long after Josh, and my father left us when I was two. Nichole rushed to my side and pulled me close, “Shh, it’s okay sweetie. You have me, Gen, Jared and the kids.” “I know, and I love you all so much. I just don’t know how I’m going to walk down that aisle alone. My mom walked me to Josh.”

She pulled me tight, “I can do it if you want me to.” I smiled, “I know, but I need you standing up there with me and making sure Jensen doesn’t pass out.” We all three laughed. Gen was by my side too, “Honey, you’re one of the strongest people I know. You can do this. Jensen, all of your babies and all of us are there with you and for you. You know Jared would walk you down the aisle if you wanted him to.”

I nodded, “Yeah, he offered, but I don’t want to take him away from Jensen. He needs his brother by his side. Okay, enough of this crying. Let’s get me out of this gorgeous dress and you two into yours.”

I changed into my regular clothes, while Gen and Nichole got into their dresses. When they came out they were absolutely breathtaking. “You two are so beautiful.” Nichole squealed when she realized the dress had pockets, “Y/N! Look! It has pockets.” We all laughed, “Yep, I made sure they did, and so does mine.”

With our dresses in hand we headed out to get some last minute things for the wedding. Gen was keeping my dress at her house so Jensen wouldn’t see it, and I already had the kids’ outfits for the wedding. The girls were wearing matching dresses and Zeppelin was wearing a tuxedo that matched Jensen’s.

Jensen and I selected Navy blue, white, and gold as our wedding colors. The main colors being blue and gold. My dress was white, and the back opened into a beautiful navy blue that ran the length of the dress, and around the top of the bodice was blue. The girls’ dresses were navy blue, with white flowers on the skirts. Jensen and Zeppelin were wearing navy blue tuxedos, and his groomsmen were wearing grey.

As the day approached, my nerves were starting to get the better of me. I thought about my wedding with Josh and how I was so nervous before, I actually threw up in the bridal suite. I really hoped this one would be different.

*Wedding Day*

I woke up early, stretched and reached for Jensen out of habit. My heart faltered a little when my hand hit the empty bed. He stayed with Jared last night. We decided we wouldn’t see each other until the ceremony. I was so excited to see his reaction when he turned around and saw me at the other end of the aisle.

I got out of bed, showered and went downstairs to a note on the counter and an artificial rose. I knew that handwriting from anywhere, it was Jensen. I smiled because I knew he snuck in last night after I went to bed to leave this for me.

I opened the note and smiled as I read it.

My love,

Today is the day we promise before our family and God to be together forever. The road that led us here was bumpy, but we got through it together. I can’t wait to see how beautiful you’re going to look in your dress. I know you’re going to take my breath away, like you have since the day I met you. I love you, darlin’, until that rose I left you dies. I’ll see you later, beautiful.

Love,

I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.

Me: Thank you for my wonderful surprise this morning. I’ll love you until the rose dies too.

Jensen: I’m glad you liked it. I love you so much baby.

Me: I love you too, handsome. I can’t wait to see you in your tux. You know what it does to me, and wait until your fans see it. They are gonna go feral. 😘 🤤

Jensen: Ha! They go feral over everything.

Me: Of course they do, have you seen you?!

Jensen: Every single day in the shower. 😉

Me: Oh you’re so mean. Now I can’t stop thinking about you naked.

Jensen: Then mission accomplished. 😂

Me: Okay, Mr. Ackles, you’re going to pay.

Jensen: Ooo how?

Me: *1 image sent* this is what I’m wearing under my dress

Jensen: Damn baby. Now that’s mean. I can’t wait to take that off of you.

Me: Patience my love. Just think the whole time I’m standing next to you, dancing, we’re walking around, that is what is under my dress. Just waiting for you.

Jensen growled and adjusted his pants when he read what I wrote.

Jensen: You’re killing me.

Me: Oops, sorry baby. 😘 I love you, I need to get ready to leave or Gen and Nichole are going to drag me out of here.

Jensen: Yeah, Jared is banging on the door. I love you too baby. See you soon.

Gen, Nichole and I arrived at the Allan House to get ready for the wedding. Jensen’s mom had the kids, and Josh’s parents were there to help with them too. My hair and makeup was done. I wore my hair half up and half down, with ringlets cascading over my shoulders.

Jensen was across the property in the groom’s suite when there was a knock at the door. Jared opened it and saw Bill. “May I come in?” Jared stepped to the side. Jensen was in his tux and turned to shake Bill’s hand. “Bill, thank you for being here with us today. It means so much to Y/N and I.”

“You’re welcome. Jensen I wonder if I could talk to you in private for a minute?” “Of course. Jared, can you give us a minute?” Jared nodded and left the room. “Bill, you wanted to speak to me? Is everything okay?” “Oh yeah, everything is perfect. Y/N is like a daughter to me, us. Even before she married Josh she was part of our family. When she married Josh and had Jazzy we felt on top of the world. After Josh died, a part of her died with him, but she kept that sweet, caring heart we all loved so much. We were so thankful when she met you and fell in love again, and even more thankful you were willing to have us in your lives. We can never repay you for that, son. Jensen, Margaret and I would like you to have this. I wore them when I married Margaret, and Josh wore them when he married Y/N. We want you to have them so when Jazzy gets old enough you can give them to her to use in her wedding.”

Bill handed Jensen a small box, when he opened it there were beautiful gold, sapphire and diamond cufflinks. “Bill, these are beautiful, I can’t take them. They belong in your family.” Bill placed a hand on Jensen’s shoulder, “Son, you are family. They belong with you and Y/N.” “Bill, I’d be honored to wear them, thank you, sir.” Jensen and Bill exchanged a hug as he took the box.

I was standing in the bridal suite taking deep breaths, looking at myself in the mirror when there was a knock on the door. Nichole answered it and when I looked up I saw Margaret and Bill. “Wow, sweetie, you’re stunning.” Margaret said as she pulled me into a hug.

Bill stood to the side and just looked at me. I took a deep breath, “Do I look okay?” I asked him. He stepped forward, “Sweetheart, you’re even more beautiful than the day you married Joshua. Jensen is a lucky man.” He hugged me and I felt the tears burn the back of my eyes.

It was a few minutes until the ceremony started and I still felt a pang of sadness about walking down the aisle alone. Jensen’s mom and Margaret got the kids in place, Gen and Nichole got in place and I took one last look in the mirror.

Bill was standing at the door waiting for me. “You okay, kiddo?” My eyes flicked to him and he saw the tears in mine. He pulled me in a hug, “Shh, you’ve got this sweetie. That man out there is in love with you and I know you two are going to be incredibly happy.” I nodded. Then it hit me. I might not have grown up with a father, but I had a dad and he was standing right there with me.

“Bill?” “Yes, sweetie?” “If you say no it’s okay. I completely understand, but would you do me the honor of walking me down the aisle?” “It would be my honor to do that.” I nodded, he took my arm and we walked outside.

The sun was just starting to set, so the twinkle lights under the tent were sparkling with the orange glow from the setting sun. It was breathtaking.

I heard the music start for the kids, Gen and Nichole. Then came my music. Bill took my arm and we walked out and around the corner. Jeff motioned for everyone to stand.

Jensen turned around and locked eyes with me. I saw tears in his eyes. I walked down the aisle, my eyes never leaving his. Trying to steady my breath, because damn did he look amazing in his tux.

At the end of the aisle, Bill hugged me, and gave my hand to Jensen. He shook Jensen’s hand and then hugged me again. Nichole fluffed my dress and I handed her my flowers, taking both of Jensen’s hands.

He leaned over and whispered, “God you’re so beautiful.” I smiled.

Jeff began the ceremony and it was time for our vows. Jensen went first. "The day I met you, I knew I had found something special. You were hurting, scared, and alone. I vowed to protect you, to love you, and to give you the happiness you deserve. I promise to always be your rock, your confidant, and your love. I'm grateful for the chance to be a part of your life. You've brought light into my world. You've shown me the meaning of unconditional love. I promise to be the best husband and father I can be. I'll always be there to support you, to encourage you, and to love you. Together, we'll build a future filled with love, laughter, and happiness. I'm so grateful for the chance to love you and our daughter. You've given me a reason to live, and a purpose. I promise to always be there for you, to provide for you, and to protect you. I'll cherish every moment we share, forever. I love you, Y/N."

My breath hitched, as the tears pricked my eyes. Then it was my turn. "When I first met you, I was lost in a storm. You were the lighthouse, steady and strong, guiding me to safety. You didn't just take me in; you welcomed me and my daughter into your heart. I promise to love you, cherish you, and honor you always. Thank you for being my hero. You saw me when I couldn't see myself. You loved me when I thought love was a distant memory. You're not just my partner, you're my protector, my provider, and my best friend. I promise to be the best wife and mother I can be, to love you unconditionally, and to build a beautiful future together. I've found in you a love that's rare and true. You've shown me what it means to be loved and cared for. I promise to be your constant, your support, and your joy. Together, we'll face whatever life throws our way, hand in hand. I love you, Jensen.”

Jeff smiled and Jensen nodded at him, “Jensen and Y/N have also written vows to their children, which they will say now.

Jensen began, "Jazmyne, I promise to always be here for you, to love you unconditionally, and to guide you on your journey. I promise to be a loving and supportive dad, and to always be there to listen and to help. When you came into my life I had no idea what was missing. You and your mom were the missing pieces in my life. I will spend the rest of my life being the dad you deserve, and helping guide you through life’s trials, and love you until all the stars fall from the sky.” Jazzy leaped in his arms and held him tight. “I love you too, daddy.”

I took a deep breath and looked at JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin. “JJ, Arrow and Zeppy, I promise to always be a source of love, laughter, and support for you three. I'll be there for your triumphs, your setbacks, and everything in between. We will tackle it all together. I vow to honor the bond you share with your dad, and the love and bond you had with your mom. I am extremely honored to be a part of your lives, and to watch you grow. I’ve loved you three since the beginning and I’ll love you three until all the stars fall. Together the six of us will be a family and will always be there to take care of each other. I love you three so much.” They hugged me tightly, “We love you too.”

When I stood up, Jeff smiled. “Jensen, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

Jensen looked at me and smiled, “I do.” Then Jeff turned to me, “Y/N, do you take Jensen to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?” I looked at Jensen and smiled, “I do.”

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jensen, you may kiss your bride.” Jensen pulled me flush to him, leaned me back and kissed me deeply. Cheers and applause erupted. When Jensen pulled me back up we turned to face everyone. “It is my honor to announce for the first time, Mr and Mrs Jensen and Y/N Ackles.”

Jensen, and I took each other’s hands and walked down the aisle together. We walked into the bridal suite to wait for photos. Inside Jensen closed and locked the door.

He walked over to me and pulled me in for another deep kiss. He pulled away and looked at me, “You are absolutely breathtaking, darlin’. Are you wearing that thing you sent me under this?” He tried to pull my dress to the side and I giggled. “Yes I am, but you’re going to have to wait to see it. If you mess up my hair before pictures, Gen and Nichole are going to kick your ass.”

He pulled me flush to his body, “Worth it.” I giggled as he started to kiss down my neck. I moaned as his hands started running up and down my body. Jensen’s hands slid down to the bottom of my dress and lifted up my skirt, revealing the dark blue lingerie I was wearing.

Jensen bit his lip and growled. “Damn baby, this is beautiful, but definitely in the way.” I grabbed his hand, and that’s when I felt the cufflinks. “Jens, where did you get these?” “Bill and Margaret gave them to me. They wanted me to wear them when I married you, because you’re like a daughter to them.” I nodded, “That’s so sweet, Jens. These look like the ones Josh wore.” “That’s because they are, sweetheart.” I gasped, “Oh wow.”

There was a knock on the door. It was Gen telling us it was time to get pictures taken. After pictures, it was time to enjoy the reception. We danced, ate, drank and had so much fun.

As the night wore on the kids were starting to get sleepy. Jensen’s parents were keeping the kids for the night so Jensen and I could be alone. We had decided instead of a honeymoon with just the two of us, we were going on a family moon and taking the kids with us. We were leaving in two days, so Jensen and I had two days alone.

It was time for Jensen and I to leave the reception. Everyone lined up with sparklers and created an arch for us to walk under. When we got to the end, I turned around and hugged all of the kids and told them good night. Jensen helped me into Baby, and then walked around and slid in the driver’s seat.

He took my hand in his and kissed it. “Ready to go home, Mr. Ackles?” “You better believe it, Mrs. Ackles. I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.”

I chuckled and bit my lip. My body tingled with anticipation of what was to come.

Jensen pulled into the driveway and walked around to my door. He opened it and offered me his hand. When he pulled me out of the car he pulled me flush to his body. His lips hovered over mine. I could feel his hot breath on my lips. I swallowed hard, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

Jensen kissed me softly and took my hand, leading me to the door. Opening the door, Jensen looked at me, scooped me up and carried me over the threshold. “Welcome home, Mrs. Ackles.” He gently put me down and closed and locked the door.

As soon as the door was locked, Jensen’s lips and hands were back on me. He kissed down my neck and to my cleavage. I tilted my head back and let out a moan. “Jens, please.”

Jensen took my hand and led me upstairs to our room. He moved my hair to the side and started to unzip my dress. I shivered when his fingers brushed against my skin. When my dress was unzipped I let it fall at my feet.

Standing before my husband in the navy blue lingerie I had on under my dress. Jensen bit his lip, “God this looks better in person. I am one lucky man.” I blushed.

Jensen started to take off his tuxedo. I sat on the edge of the bed, watching him strip. My thighs clenched together when he was down to his boxers. My hands ran up his toned chest and into his hair as I stood to kiss his lips.

I could feel his arousal through the thin material of his boxers, and my arousal soaking my panties.

Jensen laid me back on the bed, pulled me down to the side and threw my legs over his shoulders. He unsnapped the bottom of the lingerie, exposing my dripping core. “Damn baby, you’re soaked.” I bit my lip and nodded. He kissed up my thighs and when he got to my pussy he slid his fingers inside. I gasped at the sudden feeling of fullness. Jensen hooked his fingers up, and his mouth attached to my clit. He sucked and licked, pushing me closer to the edge. My hands gripping the sheets and then his hair. I threw my head back, moaning and begging him not to stop.

“Oh fuck, Jensen! That feels so good. Don’t stop.” This encouraged him to go faster. I bucked my hips into his mouth. He sucked my swollen clit as his fingers continued pumping in and out of me, deeper and deeper.

“Jens..I’m…gonna…cum..oh fuck!” I moaned and pulled his head into my pussy. I felt the sting of his beard rubbing on my sensitive skin. I came hard with a loud scream of his name. Jensen kept going, and as my legs tried to close, he held them apart. I came again without warning. My body is sensitive and overstimulated. I screamed his name again.

Jensen finally leaned up, my release covering his face. He hovered over me and placed a kiss on my lips. I tasted my release and deepened the kiss. Jensen leaned up and removed his boxers, his cock pink and wet with precum. I leaned forward and took his cock in my hand. Guiding it to my mouth. I began to suck him down deep into my throat. Jensen hissed when I sucked him into his balls.

“Oh fuck, baby! Just like that.” I continued to suck him. My hands gripped his thighs as I took every inch of him in my mouth. Jensen’s hands went into my hair and began to push my head onto his cock.

“Yes, baby. Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours. God, you feel so good.” The sounds of his moans and me sucking filled the room. Jensen’s breath ragged. Then he pulled me off of him.

“Jens, what happened? Did I hurt you?” Jensen cupped my face, “No darlin’ that was amazing, but if you kept it up I would have cum down your throat and I want to make love to my wife tonight.”

I smiled and nodded. He laid me back and crawled up between my legs. “You ready baby?” I nodded. Jensen took his length in his hand and lined himself up. With one thrust he bottomed out. Both of us were moaning as he filled me up. He stopped and allowed my body to adjust to his size.

He always stretched me in ways that had my head reeling. He began to move. His movements, slow and deliberate. He was making love to me, without hurrying through to get to his release.

His lips trailed over my body, our fingers finding each other and interlocking as he held my hands down on the bed. Our bodies moved together in slow, deliberate motions. My body was filled with desire, love and bliss.

“I love you, Jensen.” I whispered. “I love you too, Y/N. So much.”

“I want you on top, baby. I want to see your beautiful body.” I nodded, Jensen pulled out and laid down. I climbed on top, lined him back up and took him back inside. I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself. I began to rock my hips back and forth.

Jensen’s hands held onto my breasts as I continued to ride him. He was in so deep I could feel his cockhead hitting my cervix with each thrust. I rocked my hips and bounced faster. Something ignited in Jensen, because he lifted his legs up, held onto my hips and began to thrust up in me. His thrusts grew faster as his moans became louder. “Oh fuck, Y/N. You feel so good. I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“Yes, Jensen! Cum in me, fill me up with your seed.” A few more thrusts and Jensen was grunting, spilling his hot seed inside me. I could feel his cock twitch inside me. When I felt him stop, I climbed off, went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. I came back with a washcloth and started to clean Jensen. Since he was extra sensitive he took the cloth and cleaned himself.

When he was done he threw it to the side and pulled me close to him. Jensen cupped my face and kissed me deeply. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for coming into our lives, loving us and becoming my wife. I love you so much baby and I promise you I will love you until the end of time.”

I smiled softly and looked into his green eyes so full of love, “I love you too, Jensen. Thank you for loving me and Jazzy and becoming my husband. I’ll love you until the end of time.”

Jensen pulled me close to him, grabbed the blanket and put it over us. “Good night, darlin’.” I laid my head on his chest, “Good night, baby.” The two of us drifted off to sleep thinking about how an unexpected friendship could lead to this beautiful family and incredible love we created together.

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#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles smut

72 notes · View notes

joels-shitty-puns · 1 year ago

Note

Could I make a request please?

Either a Joel or Pedro x Reader, where he is head over heels for the reader who is really bubbly and sweet and happy and a mom friend for everyone but who is oblivious to any romantic overtures whatsoever? And where Joel or Pedro catch them crying for the first time ever and they try and hide it and go back to cooking for the friend group or whatever and Joel/Pedro get the reader to open up about what made them cry and essentially it's that someone turned them down on a dating app and it's just further confirmation that the reader will never find love or actually be a mom? Plus-sized reader preferred but definitely not required? And your choice on if it's smutty or not.

I've been reading your plus sized reader x Pedro series and loving it!!! So much emotion and genuine positivity that I couldn't help but ask for more when I felt a bit down about this today.

All my best!

Dear @jenniferpendragon,

Hi!!! I've never had a request before, I didn't know what to do with myself. Thank you. And thank you so much for your kind words about my musician fic! I'm so glad people like it.

I'm sorry you were feeling down today. If by "this" you mean you experienced the dating app situation, I'm so sorry. Love is out there for you. I know how hard it is to wait, feeling like nobody wants you, but I know it'll happen. Hang in there. ❤️

I hope you like this fic! I liked your prompt and my mind ran wild. It's way longer than I thought it would be and also I'm unsure about it, but hopefully it makes you feel a little better.

___________

Cookies 'n Scream

Pairing: No-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Plus-sized!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!! MDNI. Poor body image, fat shaming, food guilt, food mentions, unprotected P in V, oral, kissing, fingering, pregnancy mention, baby making sex (?), I think that's all of it but if I missed something let me know.

Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. In case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

This is the first smut I've ever written and published, yikes. Hope it's decent.

__________

"Look what I bought today," you chimed in a sing-song voice while waving the DVD in front of Joel.

"No way. Zombie Slayer 6?!" Joel and Tommy yelled in unison.

"Yep! You know it!" you beamed. "I say tonight we pop this bad boy in. Tomorrow's Halloween, it's perfect."

"YES!" chimed in Sarah and Ellie, Joel's daughter and adopted daughter, roughly the same ages in their early teens.

"Absolutely not! You two are too young for this gore, you'll be up for weeks." Maria pointedly gave an eyebrow to her husband Tommy. "You guys watch the movie, I'll take the kids and we have a girl's night. We can watch Practical Magic and make cookies. Then tomorrow we'll all go trick-or-treating." The girls were pleased with this compromise and began running up to their bedrooms, chatting frantically about their costumes and which houses were allegedly going to have full-size candy bars this year.

"Really? Zombie movies? They're just kids. They aren't old enough to deal with that kind of thing," Maria said to you, judging your lack of parenting skills.

"Sorry…" you said sheepishly.

Truthfully, Halloween was your favorite holiday and always has been. You loved the spooky aspect of it, but you also loved that you could be anyone you wanted, if only for a night. For once you weren't just "the fat girl" or whatever other mean things people thought about you. You could be Wonder-Woman, or Ariel, the Grim Reaper, or a ghost. You could even eat all the sugary snacks you wanted and nobody questioned it, because Halloween was a time to indulge in candy.

If there's one thing you're sad you didn't get to enjoy on Halloween, it was the thought of being with someone you love. You'd always wanted someone to dress up in a couples costume together. Or go to a pumpkin patch for a cute little date and pick pumpkins together. You'd even dreamed about someday having a little pumpkin of your own. Picking out a little baby costume, taking them out door to door while they tried to say "trick or treat" but didn't quite know how to say such big words yet. The thought of them getting spooked by a scary decoration and running back to their daddy's arms. Your handsome brave husband, holding them close and shushing them, rubbing their little back to make it all okay. Finally the three of you would go home, tuck the little one in, sort through the candy and maybe take some for the parent tax. Then you'd flop down on the bed together before sharing a different kind of treat.

Knocking you out of your daydream, the girls ran down the stairs, backpacks on their backs, still loudly chatting about Halloween. You sighed, Maria taking the kids out towards her house.

Tommy clapped his hands together excitedly and grabbed his phone and keys. "I'm picking us up a pizza. You two better not start this damn movie without me," he warned, gesturing with his fingers from his eyes to yours and then across to his brother's before ducking out the door. You laughed and headed towards the kitchen, starting to make a quick batch of cookies before Tommy returned. Joel stood awkwardly trying to help, but mainly was just sneaking bites of dough. "Knock it off Joel! There won't be any cookies left with you around." You elbowed him while he popped another glob into his mouth with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes while he argued with you. "Whatever. My brother doesn't need these cookies anyway. He doesn't deserve your bakin', darlin'." He ate more dough.

You couldn't help but feel your chest flutter with butterflies at his nickname, but you tried to ignore them. "Oh yeah, and what about me?" You pouted up at him. "Don't I deserve any cookies?"

He put his finger on his lip as if deep in thought. "Hmmm… I dunno darlin'. Not sure if I could handle you if you get much sweeter." He winked.

"But I guess you deserve some too.." he plopped a wad of dough into your mouth, running his finger on your lip as he pulled his hand away.

You smiled, cheeks feeling warm, and chewing the soft, sugary dough.

"Oh, Joel. You're too much.." you avoided his eyes, looking down at the mixer and pretending to be busy with the cookies.

Why can't I get a man like Joel? You thought to yourself.

Two years ago, you had moved into your new house and met your neighbors, Tommy and Maria, Maria still very pregnant at the time. The three of you became fast friends and it wasn't long before you met Tommy's brother Joel. You were instantly enamored with him. His curly brown hair, mixed with silvery gray streaks, and those deep, gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. Although he could be a grump at times, it was mainly with his brother or his job, and he never showed it towards you. To you he was as sweet as the cookies you were eating.

You instantly developed a little crush on him and it seemed like he was over at his brother's house, or yours, more often than not. The two of you spent time together alone as well, watching movies, talking, doing whatever. Things felt so simple with him, and you knew he would always be there if you needed help with anything. With him, you never felt fat. You never felt ugly. You didn't feel self-conscious. You were just you. He was just him.

As your friendship progressed, your crush developed quickly into love. But you knew deep down there was no way he could ever feel the same. He was too handsome and charming to ever go for a woman like you, so you pushed down your feelings as best as you could, and even tried some dating apps to try and find someone else to fill the empty space in your heart.

What you didn't know was that Joel was absolutely head-over-heels, smitten with you, from the moment he laid eyes on you at his brother's backyard barbecue. Sure he loved his brother, but nobody wants to spend that much time at their sibling's house. He came over constantly, hoping to see you, until eventually you became close enough that he didn't have to make a scene at his brother's house to get your attention. He could just go to yours.

Tommy constantly teased him about it, and Maria couldn't help but notice the way you looked at Joel either. Even the kids could tell. The girls loved you like a mother, though you'd never see it. It seemed that it was obvious to everyone but you and him. Joel would flirt, try to gently touch you, be sweet, but you never picked up on it. Although you never pushed away his attempts, you never seemed to reciprocate either, so Joel just figured you didn't like him that way. But he couldn't help flirting, touching, staring at you. And if you didn't protest, he didn't plan to stop. He couldn't if he tried.

While the two of you talked, the cookies, what was left of them, baked in the oven. Finally Tommy came in, two large pizzas in hand. "Now I better not see that movie playing! I warned you two."

He noticed the black television screen and wandered to the kitchen. "Good. You waited for me- oh man! You made cookies? My favorite," he said with grabby hands towards the first pan, still cooling on the stove.

"Now, don't spoil your dinner. You just brought pizza home, let's eat." You shot a knowing look with Joel after the two of you were practically full already with cookie dough.

"Fine. Whatever, mom." Tommy took a plate from you, sliding a piece of pizza onto his plate and heading towards the couch.

_____

An hour into the movie, you were all full with pizza and dessert, Tommy in the sofa chair on the side, you and Joel settled into the love seat. You leaned towards his right side, his right arm over the back of your seat. A blanket covered the two of you, and his left hand was crossed over his lap on top of the blanket, hoping you would hold it if you got scared. Whenever a jump scare did happen, you didn't grab for him, but at the slightest flinch, he would palm your knee, rubbing his thumb over you to calm you down. Such a nice guy. I'm so lucky to have him as my friend.

Once when Joel did this, Tommy caught the sight out of the corner of his vision. He rolled his eyes and gave a gagging face. Joel gave him a quick angry brother stare that made Tommy turn back toward the film.

At some point, you felt your pocket buzz. Peering under the blanket at your screen, you saw the little heart notification, letting you know it was one of the dating apps you downloaded. Heart beating faster, you excused yourself saying you wanted to get a drink. Upon entering the kitchen, you quickly opened the notification with shaky hands. You had sent out at least a half dozen matches to people, all turned down the second they saw your profile. The most recent had sent a message as well. "Seriously? Ur gross. Good luck finding anyone to date you lmao." Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at your body and pinched the fat of your stomach. You had four apps and had sent countless requests, matches, and swipes. Even guys who were big themselves had turned you down. You looked in the kitchen at the pile of cookies, the mostly empty pizza boxes, the bowl of Halloween candy. If the boys weren't here, you'd toss it all in the trash. You suddenly felt self-conscious. Your clothes were tight, your body was heavy and flabby, and you almost felt nauseous. The first sting of tears welled at your eyes, and you dashed off to your bedroom, hoping to quell these emotions before anyone would notice. You weren't ready to go back to the living room.

After a couple minutes, Joel had paused the TV to wait for your return. "She probably had to pee or something. Said she was gettin' a drink." Tommy nodded and the two of them talked. After about ten minutes had passed, Joel began to worry. Even Tommy began to wonder and finally said "where'd your girlfriend end up? It's been a while."

Joel shook his head at Tommy's name for you, but got up off the couch. "I'll go see what's up." He walked into the kitchen and didn't see you, so he kept walking through the house before finally starting upstairs. "Darlin'? You okay?" He still didn't see you, but upon approaching your bedroom door, he heard a soft sniffle.

He gently tapped on the door with his index finger's knuckle. "Sweetheart?" Your sniffling stopped and you quickly wiped your eyes, trying to hide your tears as he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys wait, I was just changing into some comfier clothes." He noticed you had switched from your favorite dress to some sweats and a baggy hoodie. You still looked beautiful to him, though he was a bit confused at the change. "I'll be right down, why don't you go start the movie again." He crossed the room to sit next to you on the bed. "I'm not going to start the movie. What's wrong, darlin'?"

You pouted, trying to choke back more tears, but his gentle brown eyes made it hard to keep your emotions inside. Joel cupped your cheek, running his thumb gently under your eyes and catching a tear that made it past your walls. You'd never cried in front of Joel before. You made it a goal of yours to try and hide any sad emotions from people, especially him.

"I don't want to ruin the night, Joel. It's nothing. Let's just go back downstairs. I'll be right behind you."

Joel stood up and nodded his head, walking out the door and closing it gently behind him.

You didn't think he'd actually leave. But it shouldn't surprise you. Who wouldn't leave you?

An aggressive sob ripped through your chest.

_____

Joel walked downstairs, joining his brother.

"You find her?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah I did. Look, she's not feeling too good right now. I think it's best we call it a night."

"Ah, man. She sick or somethin'?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah somethin' like that. I'll stay and take care of her. Can you maybe keep the kids tonight?" Joel answered, ushering Tommy out the door. Tommy gave him a look, but nodded and walked out the door towards his own house.

Joel closed the door behind him and walked back upstairs, stopping to grab a glass of water for you on the way. He knocked gently again before entering your bedroom, and you turned around, surprised to see him. "Joel? I thought you were watching the movie?"

"Nah, darlin' I could never leave you when you're upset. I sent Tommy home and he's gonna watch the girls tonight. Here, I brought you some water." He sat the water on the nightstand. "Now, you wanna tell me why you're cryin'?" He sat next to you, rubbing your back gently.

You took a sip of the water, set it back down on the nightstand, and sighed, looking down at your hands in your lap which held your cell phone.

"Well, I uh…" you cleared your throat gently. "I recently joined some dating apps..."

Joel's heart took a slight stab, but he pushed it down. You're the one needing comfort, not him.

"I guess, I dunno… I know it's kinda silly, but I've been feeling kinda lonely and y'know... I'm getting older. I'm running out of time to have babies. But, I really just want someone to call mine. Someone to laugh with and go on dates with and…" you tapered off, not wanting to admit your desire for cuddles, kisses, and love-making.

"Oh, sweet girl," he held you in his arms. "That's nothing to feel shy or silly about. It's natural to want those things. But why are you cryin'? Did somethin' happen?"

"I just… I haven't gotten any matches. Everyone I've sent anything to has denied me, and-" you sniffled and Joel pulled you tighter. "Shh, shh, sweet girl, it's okay. Those people on those apps, they don't know what they're missin' out on. They don't see how beautiful and sweet y'are. They wouldn't know how to treat you right anyway. If they can't see how wonderful you are, they don't deserve to be with ya anyway."

"Thank you Joel…" you muttered. "But… it's not just that. I got a message when we were watching the movie and I went into the kitchen to read it, and-" you handed him your phone with a sniffle. Joel pulled away from you, holding the phone back a bit to read it with his bad vision. As he read it, his jaw and fists clenched. It may have been the first time Joel saw you cry, but it was also the first time Joel got angry when it was just the two of you.

"If I knew where this asshole little boy lived, I'd go over there right now and kick his ass for saying something like that to you" he seethed. "I can't believe anyone would say something like that to you."

You picked at a hangnail on your finger, still staring at your lap. Finally Joel took a breath and looked at you again. "Darlin'. You don't - you don't believe that guy do you?" He asked while rubbing your back again.

"Maybe…" you felt tears run down your cheeks. "I mean, he's right, isn't he? I'm not attractive or skinny. Nobody wants me, not even any of these guys on this app. Even the guys who aren't skinny don't want me either."

"Sweetheart. That's just not true. Look at me-" he lifted your chin with his left hand, right arm still holding you close. You hesitantly met his gaze, your wet eyes looking into his gentle browns. "Those men, if you even wanna call them that, they wouldn't know what beautiful was if it slapped them across the face. You're the most beautiful, sweet, funny woman I've ever met. Any man would be lucky to have you." He took a deep breath before admitting, "I'd be lucky to have you."

"What-?" You interrupted him.

"Darlin'... I never want to push your boundaries, but you don't see how often I flirt with you, tease you, and touch you? You don't see how smitten I am with you?" You frowned, brows furrowing as you picked through your memory. "I thought you were just a nice guy. Just a friend. I didn't… I didn't think you could ever like me as more than a friend, so I just ignored the butterflies I got around you."

You searched his eyes, waiting for a joke, or your alarm to go off and wake you up from this dream.

"Sweetheart, I've been in love with you since just about the time I saw you walk across my brother's lawn towards me. I just figured y'wasn't interested in me that way."

"Joel," you laughed. "I've felt the same way."

He smiled, once again tilting your chin, yet this time pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, but held so much love and meaning, that the two of you couldn't help but smile in the middle of it. He pulled away, "and by the way, y'aren't old either. If anyone's old here, it's me. But if you want babies, I'll give you all the babies you want. But you already got two girls who love you. Sometimes I think they even love y'more than me," he laughed.

You smiled at him and nodded "I do love those girls like they're my own. But I would still like a little baby someday too."

He kissed you again, more passionately this time, licking your lip until you opened up and let your tongues dance together. He pulled away, running his nose across your jaw before stopping at your ear. "Only one way to give you that, darlin'." He gently bit your earlobe before kissing down your neck.

You sighed. "Joel… please."

"Please, what darlin'?" He purred, kissing your clavicle through your baggy shirt.

"Please, make love to me" you answered breathlessly, tipping your head back so he could better access your neck.

"Take these baggy clothes off then, baby. Lemme see you," he gave you one last kiss on the lips before the two of you began undressing, stopping every few seconds to share grabby kisses. Once undressed, he pulled you into him and kissed you deeply, your hands on his chest. With a swift move, he tumbled the two of you sideways so that you were now on the bed, him on his back and you straddling his hips. You leaned down, kissing his lips, while the slight movement against his waist caused you both to moan at the feeling. "Baby I've wanted this for so long. Let me take care of you," Joel whispered, thumb stroking your cheek. He flipped the two of you over, slithering down towards your waist, where you spread your legs for him. He groaned, looking at how evident it was you wanted him, pumping his already hard cock a few times. Flattening himself on his stomach, he gently touched your thighs and began to kiss your legs. "Y'sure you still want this, baby?"

"Yes Joel, please" you answered, tense with anticipation. Without a beat, he tipped his head down, licking a stripe up your slit. You let out a sigh, hips bucking toward his face. "I know baby, I know." His low timbre vibrated through your core. He gave a quick peck to your clit before swirling his tongue around it and heading downwards, licking between your folds while his nose continued to put pressure on your clit.

His fingers slid through, touching your entrance in a questioning way. "Yes, Joel, please" you cried, wiggling closer, your hands tugging at his hair.

With your pleas, he inserted his finger, curling upwards before adding a second and finally hitting that spot inside you that made your breathing catch in your chest. He stroked, while still licking gently, occasionally sucking on your clit. Before long you were gripping the sheets with one hand, his hair in your other, as you finally tumbled into your orgasm. "So beautiful, baby" he coaxed, licking you through the waves of pleasure.

"Think you're ready for me?" He looked up at you over your plush tummy. "Yes, Joel, please I'm so ready."

He stalked over your body, kissing his way up. He kissed your vulva, "I love this," he purred. He kissed your stomach, running his hands across your sides. "I love this," he licked. "I love these," he massaged your breasts, kissing each nipple. "I love you" he finally looked you in the eyes, kissing you on the lips deeply.

"I love you too." You kissed him back, running your hands through his messy hair, down his broad shoulders and back. His hand snaked around, grabbing his cock and giving a few strokes through your folds until he was wet enough. Finally he pushed against your entrance, slowly entering you, giving you enough time to adjust to his size. Your fingers clawed at his back as he finally pushed all the way in, the two of you sighing in relief.

Your body adjusted, and with a kiss to his nose, you prompted him to move. "Okay Joel, I'm ready."

Slowly, he began to thrust, pulling slowly out and gently pushing back in, eventually picking up to a pleasurable pace. He kissed you like his lips couldn't be away for longer than a few seconds, and it didn't take much before you were barreling towards your second release of the evening. "I'm almost there, Joel" you kissed, grabbing him around his back. "Me too, baby. Come for me." His thrusts were getting sloppy, but you could tell he was holding himself back for you. His fingers drifted over your clit, giving a few circular strokes and causing you to shudder around him, your eyes slamming shut with a moan. He followed right behind you, a couple messy strokes before pumping into you, filling you up and working you both through it. As the two of you came down from your high, he kissed you passionately, holding you like you were the only thing in the world.

The two of you lay on your sides, you snuggled into his chest, his chin resting on your head before eventually he became soft and slipped out of you. You both sighed at the loss, but held each other until you rolled out to use the restroom and clean up. When you returned from the bathroom, you asked if he wanted to stay and he said yes.

You lent him an extra toothbrush and the two of you stood side by side, brushing your teeth and stealing glances at each other in the mirror with matching lovesick smiles. Things felt domestic and comfortable as the two of you walked back to bed, sharing soft kisses snuggled to each other. Having completely forgotten why you were upset earlier, you fell asleep curled into his arms, full of love and hope for the future with a man you loved.

_____

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and breakfast cooking. You strolled down the stairs and saw Joel, wearing just his boxers and tee shirt, grabbing a slice of toast from the toaster.

At the sound of your steps, he turned and smiled softly. "Morning, baby."

"Good morning, handsome," you replied, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I could get used to that," Joel replied, squeezing your ass and pulling his face away to look in your eyes.

"Joel! You devil," you giggled, gently smacking his arm. "You ain't seen nothing yet, baby" he nibbled your jaw.

After the two of you ate breakfast, you shared a shower, and he threw on a pair of extra clothes he keeps in his car. It would be hard to keep his visit a secret from his brother with his car still in your driveway, but as far as Tommy was concerned, you were sick and Joel was taking care of you.

The two of you made the walk over to Tommy's house to get the girls and participate in Halloween activities for the day. Walking in the door, Tommy pulled you into a hug. "Hey, we were worried about you! Are you feeling better? Were you sick?"

You looked up at Joel, sharing a knowing look. "I was just a little upset about something, but I'm feeling much better now," you smiled.

Tommy gasped. "FINALLY!!!!" He threw his hands in the air while Maria grinned.

"Cough it up Tommy!" Sarah held out her hand to her uncle. "You know I had October." He handed her a five dollar bill.

"You bet money on us?" Joel asked in disbelief, rubbing your back.

"Obviously. You guys have both been pining since you first met," Ellie answered, rolling her eyes. "It was too entertaining for us to interfere though," Sarah added with a smirk.

You stared down at your shoes, feeling embarrassed, but Joel grabbed your hand. You smiled up at him and it felt like everything was aligned. "Yep, we finally took the step. And now I get to do this whenever I want," Joel pulled you into his arms for a deep kiss.

"UGH. GROSS, DAD." Ellie and Sarah groaned, walking out of the room.

You both laughed, sharing a smile and heading towards the group to get ready for Halloween with your family.

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