#alie ficlets

[alieinthemorning]

Familiar Warmth [Caleb]

Content: Touch-Starved, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Caleb, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Note: I see Caleb within the childhood friend trope. Anything outside of that makes me uncomfortable, so I won’t be engaging with it in any sort of way.

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries

Wanna support me? Here’s my Ko-Fi!

It was raining tonight. Although it sounded far off despite the curtains being open, letting in the blurry moonlight. He focused on the pitter-patter of rain, he focused on his breathing, his heartbeat…

And yours. 

He was at your house, an occurrence that was somehow both rare and frequent. Anytime he had a break from being the colonel, he sought you out. He needed to be around you. You drowned out the darkness, the voices, all of it. It left him with just you and him, and that’s all he needed. 

When the rain started, you pulled him up from the couch and dragged him to your bedroom. He was very confused at first. Especially when you stripped down to your undergarments (and told him to follow suit), but then you lied down and gestured for him to join you and he understood. He went to lie beside you, but you gently tugged his arm closer to you. He confusedly maneuvered himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest. Then your hands made their way into his hair, and he melted. 

How long had it been since you’d done this for him? Over a decade. It felt even longer after his death and year separation from you. Even after all this time, however, your fingers were still gentle, and you still hummed that same tune. 

On one hand, it made him feel like a kid again, but on the other…he felt special. Like this was just for him, you’d never do this for anyone else….well, maybe someone else…someone who looked a little bit like you and a little bit like him��

“You’re thinking pretty hard, Cap’.” Your comment pulled him out of his thoughts. “Wanna talk about it?”

He flushed. He definitely didn’t want to tell you about his white picket fence dream. At least not now, not while he was deep in your bliss. If that made him selfish, so be it. 

“Should I start guessing?” 

Eyes reminiscent of sugilite flashed open met your closed ones. There was a soft smile gracing your features with the moonlight from the open curtains of your window haloing you.

You were beautiful.

He shifted his head so that his chin was resting on your chest now. “Nah, you’re just imagining things.”

“Yeah, sure. You’re definitely not thinking about the future right now.” You chuckled. “When you think about the past, you start running your mouth, but when you think about the future…you get real quiet…”

He froze. 

You were entirely too perceptive for your own good. 

And his silence was a loud confirmation.

He quietly cursed himself. It had taken a while, and a lot of apologies, but he had finally gained some semblance of trust with you again. And now here he was, thinking useless things. Especially since the last time he talked about the future to you, it was in a frantic haze where he said he’d lock you up in a maze where no one could find you. He hated himself for saying that. For scaring you. 

He pulled away from you, showing you his back as he sat on the edge of the bed. He wanted to leave, to shut you out and act like nothing was wrong. However, you had followed him, and the warmth of your hand was already bleeding into his back. He swore he could even feel it in his mechanical arm. 

“Talk to me.”

His eyes slid close as his body leaned forward. His elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and your body pressed against his. 

“I keep thinking about…our future together. Which I know isn’t right because it’s not a given that I’m even in a future with you. I mean—I just barely regained a fraction of your trust, but—” His fumbled words became a sigh. “Ah…I feel a pervert”

“How so?”

“I…I keep thinking about kids…our kids.”He sighed roughly in an attempt to keep some deeper feelings from breaching the surface. “I know I shouldn’t. Especially after what I said to you. Having a kid by me would probably feel the same to you. You’d feel trapped—trapped to me, and I shouldn’t do that to you and—”

“Do think our kids would have your eyes or mine? Honestly, I’d want each of them to look like a good mix of the both of us, but if I had to choose, I’d choose your eye color.”

“Huh?” He asked dumbly. 

“What if they had an eye color each? I think that’d look good too.”

What were you saying?

Were you really fantasizing about the two of your future children right now?

And you weren’t admonishing him for having thoughts like these either? 

You had thought about it yourself?

“Am I dreaming?” He murmured, not meaning to say that out loud. 

“Nope.” You pulled away from him for a moment, making your way into his lap. “You may have lost my trust before, but you’re slowly gaining it back. And plus,” You paused, gently brushing your palm against his cheek. “You’re my forever co-pilot, Caleb.”

He chuckled, hands slotting against your waist. “Co-pilot. Who’s the one with the credentials?”

“I’m the pilot in my life, just as you are in yours.” You smiled at him. “We’re both each other’s co-pilots.”

“Maybe I should make it official…?” He asked, unable to hide the timid hopefulness as he brought up a hand to tap your left ring finger. 

You laughed. “I’ll give you the signal, Cap’in.” Then your gaze turned soft as you gathered his face in your hands. “I love you, Caleb. I always have.”

That knocked the wind out of him. He couldn’t have stopped the tears if he tried. They were sudden and unrelenting as they flooded from his tear ducts, down his checks, in between your fingers and down your wrists. 

Despite this, he smiled. 

“Thank you for loving me all this time, pip-squeak.”

:) This was just supposed to be fluff. I ended up making a man cry. AGAIN

CALL THAT ON BRAND

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

[lihhelsing]

Steve’s tired. He’s wearing a tux and his head is starting to hurt and this interviewer is nice but he’s just one in what it feels like an infinite line of them. 

That’s what he gets for being nominated for the Emmy’s this year, it was what Robin said to him.

She’s right, of course.

He blinks and focus back on the interviewer. He’s asking him to explain that one scene on the show when he performed a long action sequence and Steve does it. 

It wasn’t that hard, with his athletic background. He actually had fun.

The interviewer laughs. Steve isn’t funny but he’s glad he’s entertaining someone. Knows some actors can be real assholes out here on the red carpet. 

He sees Robin on his peripheral waving at him to let him know it’s time to wrap this up and move on.

There’s still a few interviews to get through before the actual ceremony. And then a bunch more if he somehow wins. 

Then he feels a presence on his back and Eddie Munson’s face pops in, smiling at him. One of his hands wrap around Steve’s waist.

“Isn’t he delightful?” Eddie says with that tone that makes Steve’s inside all mushy. The interviewer nods, fascinated by this interaction. 

“You’re delightful,” Steve says, trying to look at him but it’s real hard when Eddie’s head is propped on his shoulder.

“Gonna save you a seat inside, sweetheart.” 

Eddie winks at him and Steve cackle, throwing his head back a little. 

He feels Eddie’s hand squeezing at his waist and it makes him lightheaded. 

“Any plans on working together again? You two were brilliant!”

Steve has to give it to him. He’s fast with the questions. A good interviewer. 

“I’m game if you are,” Eddie says. 

Steve knows that. They talked about it. The show blew up because of their insane chemistry on screen. 

Their agents, Robin and Chrissy, are already looking into other projects

“I’d follow you to hell,” Steve says. It’s a joke and Eddie laughs, pretending to be flattered.

“See you inside?” Eddie asks and Steve nods, suddenly feeling a burst of energy. Eddie has that ability. It was helpful during long days of shooting. “A kiss for good luck?”

Steve laughs but nods, thinking Eddie is going to kiss his cheek. But no, he goes straight for his mouth.

It’s just a peck, but Steve feels his cheeks burning and before he can react Eddie is moving, lost in the sea of people on the red carpet.

Steve turns his face to the interviewer and from the red dot on the camera he knows this is live. He sighs, has to stand his ground despite wanting to run away. 

“Well. That was sweet. So are you two dating?”

Steve sighs, shakes his head. 

“No. He’s just a brat.”

[mynerathemystic]

request by: @midlandslady2 a rewrite of daemon x alys' conversation where he says he wants rhaenyra to rule by his side.

"And how fare you, Prince of Nightmares and Dastardly Deeds?"

A scowl marred Dameon's face as he looked up from the edge of crumbling rock where he rested, his jaw clenched when Alys Rivers announced her arrival. She met his gaze with a smug grin, her severely straight raven hair parted to reveal eyes far too wide and seemingly endless. He quickly averted her stare and resumed sharpening the ax in his hand, the clang of iron against stone harsh and aggressive.

"It appears not too well," she said, her voice thick with mock concern. 

Daemon continued to ignore her after she sat down and moved in close to study him, a cloying mix of peppery spices and something burnt wafting from her and assaulting his nose. She moved to touch his cheek and Daemon caught her wrist and shoved her hand back, returning to his work with a grunt, much to her apparent amusement.

"I am certain there are far more constructive ways for you to fill your time," he told her, counting each whack to remain focused on the task at hand and not the intrusive thoughts telling him to drive the tool into her skull.

"And I could say the same for you," she argued, leaning back using her arms. "You look awful, by the way—dark circles, sickly complexion, hair matted like a rat's nest. What will Rhaenyra say when her husband returns and has aged so," she trailed off, subjecting him to the slow, scrutinizing drag of her eyes along his body before tutting and shaking her head, "...poorly."

Daemon stood and without hesitation pointed his ax between Alys’ eyes. "I haven’t time for you, witch. Keep her name out of your filthy mouth and address her properly as your queen.”

Alys' lips curled at the insult. She retrieved an apple from her pocket and cleaned it using her sleeve.

It was uncertain to Daemon at what point it occurred, but the halls, once filled with men meandering to and from the courtyard, had gradually become quiet. The sounds of splitting wood and tools scraping were absent; instead, an insidious silence replaced it. The sky had shifted as well, no longer the cloudless cerulean of mid-day but the deep blackish-blue of a starless sea that engulfed him.

"I see. So you are worried." Alys inspected the piece of fruit and took a hefty bite, indifferent towards the change in scenery. "Worried that she'll abandon you. Leave you here to rot once she realizes how pathetic—"

"I am not—" Daemon's nostrils flared, his weapon still leveled at her face. "You know nothing."

"And pray tell, what is it I don't understand, Daemon?" she pushed, unfazed by the hatchet aimed at her. "What is it I can't already see inside of that arrogant, dense, vain head of yours?"

"She cannot succeed—she cannot rule without me."

In the midst of her last mouthful, Alys choked, the apple tumbling to the ground once laughter overtook her. The wind whistled between the gaps of bare branches and joined in her merriment, as though it too thought little of him.

"And what do you know of loyalty?" Daemon asked, his tone even yet abrasive. "What do you know of devotion? Confined within this castle, haunting the halls with your childish bag of tricks and horrid tonics. You, Alys Rivers,” he stepped closer, “know nothing of me, my mind, or my heart. And you never will. Because you—a creature committed to nothing but torment—do not possess any of it; not a mind, let alone a heart.”

Alys came to an abrupt stop, as if someone suddenly cut the strings of a puppet. The air stilled and she tilted her head, her eyes boring into his.

Satisfied with her response, Daemon continued. 

"I am Rhaenyra's shield. I am her armor. As long as I draw breath, no harm will befall her. This is how to ensure her ascension. And that is why I must do my part."

"What?" Alys scoffed. "Become a pawn, a knight, in this game? And what if you fail? What then? Give up your life for hers?"

"If necessary."

"And what of your dear wife? And your children?"

At this, Daemon’s grip faltered and he shook his head, his brow furrowed. "Sacrifice is but a necessity of war. I live on through them." He was the one that uttered the words, but they sounded rehearsed and distant as they hung there in the void between them.

Alys inspected him further, as if there were stories there, written between the folds of his skin that she was desperate to devour. 

“You're awfully dreary, you know,” she finally said with a sigh. “Death, devotion, and such.”

Daemon glowered at her, feeling somewhat exposed in a manner he was not accustomed to. "Well, then. I am sorry my life does not have much to offer as a source of entertainment."

"Oh, don't be.” Alys rose and yawned while she stretched, the heavy hush that once blanketed them dissipating in an instant. She nudged Daemon’s ax with the back of her hand and it fell out of his hold and onto the ground. “I'm plenty entertained."

Within a second, the sun broke through the fathomless dark, and the sounds and smells of workers tending to the rebuilding of Harrenhal were once more present. 

Daemon knelt to retrieve the tool, irritated by her theatrics, while she continued.

"And for the record, don't underestimate the will of the Gods. Perhaps one day they’ll work in your favor."

"Oh, is that so?” he asked, humoring her. “Which ones?"

Alys shrugged and turned to leave. "The ones who decide to listen."

[devirnis]

brushing a strand of hair away for Buddie or Madney? :)

we could be corny

Rating: G Relationship: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Maddie Buckley/Chimney Han Word count: 1.7k

“Eddie,” Buck whispers – or, well, Chimney thinks he’s trying to whisper, but Buck’s at that stage of tipsy where he’s lost control of his volume. “How come you never do that for me?” Eddie looks up from where he’s been scrutinizing his resource cards. “Do what for you?” he asks. “That.” Buck gesticulates wildly towards Chimney and Maddie, nearly knocking his wine over in the process; Eddie just manages to pull the glass to safety. “Brush my hair behind my ears.”

Or, Chim and Maddie have Buck and Eddie over for their first official couples’ game night.

(read on ao3)

[scaryscarecrows]

"We are never working for a billionaire again," Jason grinds out, bracing against the door as it thuds into his back. "Goddamn parasites--"

"He said zoo, he didn't specify this!"

THUD.

THUD.

THUD.

SCREE!

"I'm just saying--"

"No shit--"

"Less fighting, more holding the door!" Jimmy shouts from the computer. Antoine shudders as the door thuds again.

"How did you miss the goddamn dinosaurs?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see 'animal V' and assume it meant Velociraptor!"

"Rogers, I swear to God," Jason pants, "if these things eat us, your ass is fired."

[toxicanonymity]

hello, my dearest Toxy🩶

with this ask I challenge you to write a ficlet (or anything bigger if you want) inspired by this screenshot:

may the writing muses be with you,

kissing you on your forehead (if you allow it not then just waving from the distance!)

the gusset

2k, "daddy" Joel x f!reader x uncle tommy

Tyvm for the inspo, Aly! And for all your beautiful gifs🖤 love you *forehead kiss*. 18+ MDNI cumplay, smut, incidental incest via double vag penetration & cum cleanup. ain't your thing? scroll on by. don't overthink it, mild weather, reader can wear Joel's shirt. masterlists: joel & uncle tommy, joel. AO3

“What's wrong, baby?” Joel asks in the rearview mirror as you squirm in your seat.

“Nothing, daddy. I'm just kinda--I'm fine.”

“You’re doin’ great, baby,” he says.

Uncle Tommy sympathizes, “panties take some gettin’ used to if ya’ain’t used to wearin’em, huh cupcake?”

Well, dry panties would be a different story. These are filled. They made sure of it before y’all left the house. One load from Tommy and two from Joel.

Each moment that passes, more of their spend oozes out of you and onto the soaked gusset. It's pouring out of you faster than the cotton gusset could absorb it, even if it weren't already soaked through. The abundance of cum has built up and formed a little pillow along your crotch. A growing pillow, threatening to spill under the elastic edges of the panties.

It's farmer’s market day. That's when Joel hauls some produce from Lincoln to the Boston QZ perimeter to trade. Last night, Tommy volunteered to do the job, and when you dared to ask if you could join, Joel said, let's all go. Joel hated to let you out of his sight and he couldn't bear to do it in public. You almost wonder if he filled you up on purpose so you wouldn't want to get out of the truck.

Now the bed of the truck is loaded with apples and peaches. You’re slouching in the back seat of the extended cab, trying to minimize the pressure on your panties. If the growing bulge of semen were to breach the underwear, it would be an even bigger mess than it already felt like.

It’s been turning you on, feeling their thick, warm seed ooze from your hole and fill up your whole slit, bit by bit. Gush by gush, it's occupied every crevice of your parts, coating the puffy outer lips of your tired pussy, then accumulating between the cotton and you.

While arousal stirs in your belly, your skin is hot with embarrassment knowing you’re going out in public. It feels indecent. Which somehow makes it hotter, at the same time. It’s an awful cycle, and the throbbing of your cunt churning out slick isn’t helping the near-overflow situation.

Joel glances in the rearview twice more, then suggests, “Why don't ya come sit in uncle Tommy's lap?”

“It's okay,” you reply.

Not used to your rejection, Tommy turns around with big, gentle eyes and a furrowed brow. “What's goin’ on, babygirl?”

Joel pulls over and your heart speeds up as the wheels slow on the pavement.

-

With the car in park, Joel unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches to the back seat. His tan forearm flexes with his green flannel rolled up over his elbow as he unbuckles your seatbelt. “Spread your legs, darlin’. an’ hike up that dress for me.”

You pull your dress up and spread your knees slightly.

“Spread’em, sugar. C’mon now, nothin’ to be shy about.”

You spread your legs wide, earning a soft, “Good girl,” from your daddy as his gaze settles between your legs and the bittersweet scent wafts to his nostrils and yours. Wetness trickles from your cunt into the crack of your butt. Joel reaches further and softly pats the soft, inflated crotch of your panties with his thumb. A drop escapes the side and he gives a low whistle.

Tommy looks back, cocking an eyebrow as he takes in the view, then his cheeks fill with air as he exhales.

“I’ll fix ya, baby. Hold on,” Joel exits the truck.

As Joel stands outside the truck and straightens his shirt, Tommy smiles at you and says, “Didn’t ‘spect ya to leak that much. We fucked ya wide open, didn’t we?”

Your upper body heats up and your lower body throbs as you remember how they did it.

~~~~///~~~~~

Tommy was laid back on the bed, reclining against the headboard, with you between his legs, speared on his cock. He had been fucking you excruciatingly slow in small strokes from the bottom, and you were gushing, desperate for more. He cradled your naked breasts and gushed, “She’s such a good girl,” with his cock stiff and throbbing in your cunt. He paused his movements.

“She sure is,” Joel agreed.

Tommy tilted his hips down and asked, “You good, cupcake?”

“Mmm,” you answered, lacking words. “Daddy” you looked at Joel with pleading eyes. You savored the brief burn as Joel squeezed his own tip into your occupied entrance right along with Uncle Tommy's cock. Joel leaned down and gave you a kiss as he let your body catch up. Then he asked, “Ready, baby?”, and you nodded dreamily. Dripping wet and ready.

Joel pushed his hips forward, stretching you with his rock hard manhood, more than doubling the girth inside you. At the same time, Tommy tilted his hips up to spear you deeper.

Your mouth hung open and you grunted with the stretch, then moaned at the push of their stiff cocks against your walls. You were packed full and could swear your sensitive walls felt the heartbeats of both dicks that were crammed inside you. Joel admired your face and when half his mouth broke into a smile, you realized you were drooling. From both mouths.

~~~~///~~~~~

Joel opens your door and gives your thigh a squeeze. “Lay back for me, darlin’.”

You lie flat on your back, and Joel arranges your legs so one foot is on the floor and one is on the seat, with your knee up. He lifts your dress higher and you feel air on your lower abdomen.

He gently thumbs your swollen panties, feeling the pocket of cum move under his touch. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs. He slides his thumb gently up and down, watching the bulge move under the cotton, and you flinch in pleasure.

“Fuck,” Tommy whispers and palms himself in the front seat. The tips of Joel’s fingers rest warmly on the skin of your lower abdomen as he gently rubs your crotch with his massive thumb. He rubs with an upward stroke over your entrance, working some of the cum upward. The wetness creeps up your mound as he works to spread it. Each time his thumb passes over your clit, more tension builds in your core.

“Well shit,” Tommy marvels, watching. It must show on your face. “Can’t get enough, can she?”

Your hips begin to lift into Joel’s hand, and he watches your chest rise and fall. He settles into a trance, thumb moving on its own at a slow rhythm as he watches your nipples harden and feels you getting closer. “Daddy,” you whimper, and he pauses his efforts to rub you for pleasure. His thumb speeds up. “Daddy,” you whimper again, and unravel into a moan as you reach your peak.

Your walls spasm and push more cum out of you, creating a warm new bubble beneath the damp cotton Joel had just flattened. A growl escapes Joel’s chest at the sight. He pauses, then grabs you by both thighs to pull you closer to the door. The echo of your orgasm continues to ooze more of their seed out of you.

Tommy shudders, and you hear the squish of his fist around his cock. “Fill’er back up?” He offers.

Joel nods at him in agreement. You sigh in resignation to the utter mess between your legs. “It’s okay baby, I'll clean ya up,” Joel reassures you as Tommy exits the truck.

-

Joel steps out of the way and you look up to see Tommy’s kind eyes glued between your legs as he slowly strokes himself. “Ffuuck,” he mutters, and pulls you almost off the edge of the seat. “Sit up, honey,” he breathes, and you do.

With his thumb, he yanks your panties to the side, and the elastic crackles past its limit. Then you wrap your hands around his neck as he pulls you off the seat. You bury your face in his hair and whimper as he impales you on his cock. You sink onto him with ease, plugging what's left of the earlier cum, pushing it back up into you. He firmly holds your bottom, then begins to erupt, pulling you onto him as his seed throbs into you. His body jerks with a broken moan. He sighs as he finishes.

“Good girl,” he whispers with a squeeze of your butt, then bends his knees and helps you back onto the seat. He slides out of you and helps fix the crotch of your panties to cover you up again. Cum drips onto the leather beneath you. A product of the extra load as well as the loosened elastic on one side.

Tommy stuffs himself back in his jeans and gives Joel a nod.

“fraid it’s just gonna come right out,” Tommy chuckles.

“Savin' mine for the ride home,” Joel says, cupping his balls then squeezing the thick sausage sitting on his thigh before adding, “You're drivin’ home, buddy.”

“You got it,” Tommy agrees as he goes back around the truck.

-

You start to put your dress back down and Joel stops you with a gentle “not yet, darlin’, lemme see.”

He collects the spilled cum from the leather with a swipe of his thumb, then brings it to your lips. He presses his thumb gently into your mouth, against your soft tongue. You suck the digit clean. “good girl,” he says, “Lay down again for me.”

Joel kisses his sticky thumb as you assume the position again.

He uses the same thumb to trace the slightly loosened edge of the panties' crotch, then the other edge. “daddy, wait—If I come again, it’s gonna make a big mess,” you warn him.

“I know, babygirl. Ain’t gotta cum. Just relax.”

You trust him enough to un-tense your muscles and let him clean up.

“Attagirl.”

He dips his head between your legs and starts low, on your inner thigh where it meets your butt. He licks along the edge of the panties, dipping his tongue slightly under the crotch then forcing himself to withdraw it without going further. He goes back to tracing the edge.

When he’s licked up the seed that spilled from the gusset, he blows along the pantyline, then presses a soft kiss against your mound. He inspects the other side and repeats the remedy, although there isn’t as much to clean up. He taps his thumb against the cotton that covers your entrance, feeling only a small amount of cum give way. Far less than the earlier pillow.

He presses a soft kiss on your lower belly, just above your panties, then looks up and studies your face as he puts your dress back down. “Lay like that if ya want, baby. we’re almost there." He gives your thigh a squeeze and winks at you before closing the door.

“She’s somethin' else,” Tommy mutters as Joel gets back in the truck.

-

Before putting the truck in drive, Joel looks back and gently offers, “Don’t gotta get outta the car if ya don’t wanna, okay?” Tommy gives him a look.

You *knew* it! You try not to let it show on your face. He’s so controlling.

Well, Daddy’s not gonna get the satisfaction of you choosing to stay in the truck. Any type of outing is so rare that you have to take advantage to the fullest. You daydream about seeing a stray dog, sniffing around, following the scent of meat.

One time, Joel took you to an abandoned barn to gather some tools, and you met a barn cat. Anything was possible.

“Can we go by the old barn on the way home?” You ask from the back.

“We’ll see, baby,” Joel answers and you roll your eyes, out of his view since you’re lying down. You stew in frustration and by the time y’all park at the QZ perimeter trading tent, you’re trying to force away tears.

Joel gets out and looks in the backseat. “Stayin’ put?” He asks, then registers the look on your face. “What’s wrong, baby?”

He gets out and opens your door. “C’mere, talk to me.” he helps you sit up. You take a deep breath and look away, heat rising to your eyes.

“I do wanna get out,” you tell him.

He takes your jaw gently in his hand and makes you look at him. His brows knit in concern when your eyes meet. “Okay, you’ll get out,” he quietly agrees. “Hey, you’re okay, baby. You're okay.” He cradles the back of your head.

You try to fix your dress and Joel’s face changes from concern to pity. He untucks his flannel and starts unbuttoning it, strong forearms flexing. Your face softens and your eyes brighten, making Joel’s sparkle.

He helps you down from the truck, and his broad body blocks the view as he holds up his shirt for you. You admire the way his biceps and chest stretch his plain white under-tee before you turn around and slip your arms into the flannel. You turn around and while Joel is still facing you, he adjusts himself, then untucks his t-shirt. He takes your hand and says, “Uncle Tommy’s gonna unload. You stick with me.”

________________________________________________

Make sure you check out bonezone44's amazing artwork to see how Joel looks at the end.

thanks for reading!

Your comments delight me and help my confidence which helps me write. Love y'all.

[milla-frenchy]

hello, my dearest Milla 🤍

with this ask I challenge you to write a ficlet (or anything bigger if you want) inspired by this screenshot:

may the writing muses be with you,

kissing you on your forehead (if you allow it not then just waving from the distance!)

The constant

0k5 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: Javi wakes up after a nightmare Warnings: 18+ mdni. Angst, piv. No age specified

a/n: thank you for the inspo, Aly 💛(smooching you, if you allow 😌), thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta ing 💕

He woke up restless, sweating. Heart beating so fast and hard in his chest that he thought it was about to explode. And then he remembered his nightmare, his brain torturing him at night, making him recall insidiously the events he had faced earlier. As if the anxiety that had its grip on him all day wasn't enough, it had to come to him at night too. 

He felt useless. His job was useless.

He grabbed an ashtray and his pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, and lit one. Too bad about the nicorette. Migraine hit him and he pressed his palm to his forehead.

“Javi?” you murmured, voice sleepy.

“Shit, I’m sorry hermosa. Did I wake you up?” he asked, still haunted by the images swirling like ghosts in his mind, his gaze lost in the sheets he couldn't even see.

“It’s ok, baby,” you answered. You sat up and wrapped your arms around him, cheek resting on his shoulder. The warmth of your naked body against his, an attempt to get him back to you. 

You knew what was torturing him, you had lost count of his nighttime awakenings, mumbling in his sleep. 

He kept smoking, flicking the ash into the ashtray from time to time.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Hey… don’t do that,” you replied, kissing his shoulder and tightening your grip around him. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

His Adam's apple throbbed and then returned to its place, almost painfully.

“Javier,” you insisted.

The corner of his lip slightly twitched into a smile, as he heard you say his full first name to prove that you meant it. You were the only one who never made him roll his eyes, always knew how to act around him, instinctively.

“Tell me what you need,” you said, encouraging him.

He put out his cigarette and placed the ashtray back on the nightstand. “Need to forget,” he breathed, still unable to look at you, as if he hated himself at those moments. 

“Come here,” you said, hand tight on his bicep as you lay down on the bed and spread your thighs lightly. He positioned himself between them, his eyes finally plunging into yours. You brushed his cheek as he nestled his cock at your entrance. His tortured, haunted eyes fixed on yours, but not quite present yet. 

He slowly pushed in and the warmth of your cunt surrounded him. He frowned, as if he was fighting against the darkest part of himself to come back to you, mentally and physically. 

Your body responded to his length, his touch, and covered him with your wetness. Your fingers played with his hair at the back of his neck as he slid his arms under your shoulders. He moaned softly when he felt your body fully welcome him. 

You didn't take your eyes off him, watching his gaze changing and the anxiety leaving, as he was fucking you slowly, your clit already throbbing against his skin. 

“You’re my constant in this world, hermosa,” he had told you once. 

And each of those moments proved it to you a little more, night after night. You knew he would be okay as long as he would be against you, inside you. And so would you.

Javi p masterlist

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[alieinthemorning]

Sunflowers [8394 | Grim | Casper]

Content: Fluff, POV Second Person, Spoilers

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries

Sunflowers are supposed to follow the sun, this is a fact.

However, they were facing you now, despite the fact that there were sun rays directly hitting. You tilted your head at them, reaching a hand forward to brush across the petals.

You swore that the flower moved closer into your palm.

"I wonder if Casper's really right about my soul…"

Not only was your soul like a mirage, a bright light hidden by a misty smog, but it was also capable of healing others—

"By giving a bit of myself…" You sighed, pulling your hand from the flower.

How did you receive this, you assumed it was a blessing, since you weren't accidentally stealing other people's souls to live longer or something. So a blessing, but how and why? You've been like this since you were younger, so you're pretty sure you've had it since birth, but you're also pretty sure no one in your family could use magic. But you also did just recently find out that Grim Reapers were real and not just something out of fiction.

And then you began to think about what that really meant for you. Would you truly just…cease to exist one day? Yeah, your life mainly consisted of going to work and chilling at home (with the occasional side quest of doing something else), but that didn't mean that you were ready to give it all up.

Your gaze found the sunflowers again.

"Sunshine…"

You also weren't ready to give him up yet, either.

You've never felt such an intense pull toward someone in your entire life, and you've only known Casper for less than a week.

Hell, you didn't even know his name was Casper until last night!

But…loving him…feels right. You should love him openly and wholly, and you were sure he'd do the same.

Your love for each other really were like sunflowers.

You smiled as your fingers brushed the yellow petals. "I guess you accidentally choose something with a double meaning, huh, Casper?"

I TOLD Y'ALL THAT THE FAN WAS FICCING

AND HERE WE ARE

Ahem. Anyway.

I love him very much.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[aurorawritestoescape]

THANK YOU, ALY!!!!🥹💖🌸🌸🌸🥰 Love you so much, baby!!😩🫂🫂🫂😘😘😘😘😘

LIKE IT’S THE LAST TIME || 900 words

Tw: 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected piv, public, creampie, belly bulge, gun use.

***

“Yeah… shit…yeah…like that.”

Joel’s low growling always turns you on more than any dirty talk ever could. His forehead is sweaty, teeth are mercilessly biting his lower lip as he’s trying not to blow his load into you just yet.

You’re riding his cock in a stuffy car, knees planted on the back seat to help him plunge his length deeper into your hot core. Only the condensation on the windows hides your indecent public behavior, doing a poor job at that as a few passers-by have already done a double take after glancing inside your car.

You don’t care. On days like this one you can’t let go of each other, lips kissing, tongues licking, hands grabbing one another like it’s your last time.

He playfully slaps your ass and you gasp, a little smile dancing on your heated face.

“’m I taking it good, Joel?”

The man hums, the sound muffled as he’s nuzzling a spot between your breasts. The scruff on his cheeks and chin is rubbing your sensitive skin but this little discomfort won’t stop you from chasing your ecstasy. Your pussy feels so good bouncing on his throbbing cock.

Joel moans through the gritted teeth and pride blooms in your heart when this big dangerous man forgets how to speak, forgets about everything, completely lost in the sensations your body is giving him.

You keep riding his length, slowing down and then picking up the pace again. Your hips are tilted back, as his steel member deliciously slides against your soft spot.

His hands spread your ass cheeks, and you feel cold air right at your hole as your slick collects at the base of his shaft. You’re so wet, your juices must be already sliding down his balls.

Joel’s plush lips form an ‘o’ shape, eyes flutter shut and he tilts his head back against the headrest.

“No, no, too soon… need more, Joel, c’mon”, you mumble hastily, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. You slow down trying to prolong the pleasure for the both of you. ‘Will I ever feel him like this again?’

A familiar thorn of fear pangs your heart but you drive it away caressing his lips with yours while you’re holding his face between your shaky palms. You blink your eyes open, so close to him everything is blurry in your gaze but you still take mental pictures of his freckles, his long lashes, his expression, so vulnerable and honest.

You store them deep inside you. For later. In case your luck fails you.

“Lean back, baby… yeah, good girl,” Joel murmurs as his hands push you back making you sit straight on his lap. His head drops down and he watches his cock disappear inside your glistening pussy.

“Fuck,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs, “d’ya feel my cock? Shit, here it is,” he marvels, pressing his palm to a lump in your lower belly.

“Yeah, you’re so big, Joel,” you whine watching the bulge move up and down under your skin with every rise and fall of your hips.

His fingers find your clit and he rubs it fast with a perfect pressure and then begins vigorously thrusting up into your stretched pussy. Your whimpers turn into a constant whine when his fat tip hits your cervix again and again.

“Give it to me, baby, c’mon,” he encourages you, on the verge of climax himself and you hear it first, half moan-half roar that he always makes when he comes.

You feel his warm seed flood your pussy and the sensation makes your walls flutter, milking his pulsating cock.

You cry out, one hand braced on the window, the other gripping his broad shoulder as the waves of euphoria are hitting you over and over.

When your climax dissipates, you open your eyes and see Joel look at you, his loving gaze taking in every feature of your face.

“What?” You ask with a shy smile as if you haven’t just stuffed your pussy full of his cum.

“Nothin’. Just lookin’ at you.” He sighs and adds, “We need to go.”

He helps you off his lap and after you both adjust your clothes, he opens the window, sticks his arm out of the car and slaps the roof a couple of times.

In a few seconds Tommy gets in the driver’s seat.

“So fucking long. Every damn time,” he grumbles frowning at Joel and you in the rear view mirror.

“‘s for good luck,” Joel mumbles as Tommy starts the engine.

“Did you at least sneak a peek, Tommy?” You ask giggling but quickly shut up when you see Joel’s stern look.

***

When you arrive at the place, Joel’s big hand on the back of your neck pulls you in for a kiss, desperate and rushed. It’s coated in promises and hopes, desire and love in every stroke of his lips as you clutch his plaid shirt with trembling fingers, kissing him back with everything you’ve got. Like it’s the last time.

Tommy wishes you luck before Joel and you get out of the car.

Right at the entrance Joel shoots you a wink through the balaclava opening and then storms in raising his gun.

As always your pussy tingles when you hear him roar the command,

“Hit the floor! This is a robbery!”

***

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre

[lihhelsing]

"Can I get your coffee order?"

STWG daily prompt 6/2/24 (let's pretend it's not two days late): Coming Out Pairing: steddie | tags: coming out, coffee shop au, modern au, meet cute, fluff

Eddie was used to seeing the same guy in the coffee shop every day. It was impossible not to notice him because he was gorgeous and Eddie was a simple man who liked to admire beautiful things. 

So Steve would come in every day and always at the same time, ordering the same thing. Double Espresso with a shot of Vanilla. It suited him, Eddie thought, but he would always see him looking at the menu as if he was considering ordering something different, just to end up with the same thing every day. 

It was kind of cute. 

Sometimes he would sit alone for half an hour, face buried in his phone. Sometimes a loud brunette girl would join him but then they would never stay for long. Eddie didn’t like those days even if he thought she looked like a nice person. 

And then sometimes Steve would come in and order for two, then he would proceed to sit at a table and in a few minutes a girl would join him. Always a different girl, which told Eddie none of them were his girlfriends. 

One could even think this was some sort of job interview because it was pretty clear Steve wasn’t fully into the conversation. He was trying, sure, but after an hour the girl would inevitably excuse herself and leave. Steve would hang out for a few more minutes and then leave too, not looking back. 

And he’d do it all over again on a different day. 

Eddie couldn’t even feel guilty about paying attention. Steve always came in when the rush hour had passed and the coffee shop was mostly empty, and Eddie didn’t have much to do. And yeah, sure he was also a little obsessed with him so he was curious what was all that about. 

Surely Steve didn’t seem the kind of guy to have dating issues. 

The day Eddie noticed something was different was when Steve came in and ordered a Chai Latte. For anyone else, this might mean nothing, but Eddie knew better and he had watched Steve for long enough to know that if he finally changed his order after months, something was up. 

He didn’t want to look like a creep so he smiled like he always did and thanked the fat tip Steve left him, like he always did. And maybe Eddie flirted a little, but who could blame him? Steve was just too handsome for his own good and Eddie was just a man. 

Eddie gave him his drink and politely waited for a few minutes just to make sure Steve wasn’t expecting anyone, and then he finally moved in. 

“Hey, how’s your drink?” Eddie asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. Steve looked up at him through thick eyelashes and Eddie wanted to die a little. 

“Oh, it’s good. I never had one of these so I can’t really compare it to anything else, but I like how it tastes.”

Eddie hummed, “Well, tell you what, I make a mean Matchá if you ever feel like broadening your horizons.”

Steve chuckled and nodded, “I might take you up on that, actually.”

They stood in silence and Eddie was ready to accept his defeat when Steve spoke again. 

“I just… Started to realize I might want to try different things.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, “how so?”

“Well, I used to drink the same coffee every day and it was good, don’t get me wrong. But I kept looking and looking and it felt like I was... Missing something,” Steve frowned as he spoke, almost as if he was talking about coffee but thinking about something else. 

“It’s what they say, don’t knock it til you try it, am I right?”

Steve chuckled and Eddie was under the impression he was just being polite. 

“For sure. It’s just hard sometimes, to try new things. Even if you are… Curious.”

“I say just go for it. The worst that can happen is you spend a few bucks on something you will never want to drink again, but if that ever happens I got you. I’ll get you something different on the house,” Eddie said and then he winked because he was a sick little man. 

The blush that crept onto Steve’s cheek was beautiful, though, so he was only half-sorry. 

“Oh, what if… It’s not coffee that I want to try?” Steve said, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. 

Eddie smiled and motioned his hand to the drink menu, “Lucky for you we have an assortment of drinks like refreshers and matchá and even some teas-“

“I mean, what if this isn’t about drinks?” 

Now Eddie was completely lost. He looked back to meet Steve’s eyes and there was an intensity behind them that gave him chills. 

“What do you mean?”

“I, um…” Steve looked around as if making sure the place was empty and still lowered his voice a little. “What if I’m not as straight as I always thought I was?”

Eddie tried to contain his surprise and forced his expression to remain neutral, not wanting to spook him. 

“That’s ok, too. Lord knows I’m gay as it comes and it took me a few tries to figure it out,” Eddie chuckled, but Steve’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “I mean, you don’t have to be gay either! You can be bi or pan or-“

“Sorry, I made this awkward. I’m sorry. I’ve just been having these feelings and Robin says I can always talk to her but it feels that if I even ask it will be real and then if I turn out to be just confused then she will be disappointed because she always said I was her straight token friend but I know she would be happy if I wasn’t-“

“Hey, hey,” Eddie moved his hand and touched Steve’s shoulder lightly. He just hoped he wasn’t crossing a line. That definitely wasn’t the first time a customer said something incredibly personal out of the blue, but it was the first time someone was coming out to him like that. 

Steve looked up at him with huge brown eyes and Eddie felt his insides melting a little. Here it was, this cute guy having a sexuality crisis and just looking even cuter. 

“I don’t know you and obviously don’t know this friend of yours. Robin, is it? But if she loves you, and I’m assuming she does, she will love you no matter what. Even if you have to come out to her as… Straight?” Eddie said that and got a snort back from Steve. 

At least that was better than the desolation he had in his eyes before. 

“I guess you’re right,” Steve said, nodding his head. 

“And hey, you can definitely try things out and figure out you were straight all along, but from my experience, straight people don’t usually question their sexuality or even feel the curiosity to do so. They just are. So my best bet would be on you being one of us. Assuming your friend Robin is also not straight.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Steve said, laughing and he just looked so much better like that. 

“Well, ok Steve, then my job here is done! I’m sure Robin will have much better advice to give to you, but you can always count on me to try different coffees,” and there it was, the fucking wink again. Who did Eddie think he was? 

Steve blushed again and now Eddie could see they were pretty damn close. He slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s shoulder as to not make him uncomfortable, but it seemed that Eddie’s pep talk had done the trick because now Steve had this glint in his eyes. 

“Can I buy you coffee?” he asked, smiling slowly. 

“Uh, what?”

“You know, since I’m already trying things I thought it would be nice to try uh… A Matchá, you said? And a… Date?”

Holy fucking Jesus. Steve was fucking smooth. Eddie felt his cheeks getting warm and he looked around to conclude they were still alone at the coffee shop. There was not a single reason for him to turn this down even if Steve ended up figuring out he was straight. Yeah, fat chance. 

“Lead the way, big boy,” Eddie motioned for the counter and Steve smiled, nodding and following him right into their first date. 

[joeloverture]

sea-cret obsession | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dad's enemy!yachter!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your dad's always had a superiority complex when it comes to his place at austin's finest yacht club. when joel miller joins the club, not only does he dethrone your dad — he also becomes your newest obsession. warnings: (18+ mdni) yachter!joel, dad's enemy!joel, age gap (mid 20s/mid 50s), alcohol, joel is implied to be older than reader's dad - don't read too far into it, reader wears a bikini (anyone can, i promise!), fantasizing, creepyish joel but reader's into it, soft!dom joel, porn with a paper-thin plot, m!receiving oral, throatfucking, facial, cum-eating, f!masturbation, blowjob in the captain's chair, daddy kink (oops), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, degradation, pet names, aftercare [no use of y/n] word count: 2.9k a/n: this was supposed to be a ficlet for @iamasaddie's ✏️game. this is not a ficlet. please suspend your disbelief, this concept simply fell into my lap the moment i saw the wonderful moodboard aly put together for me. go check out the other fics, most of which are much shorter than mine and are absolute brain candy, that stemmed from aly's game!

Austin is hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hell, and you haven’t stopped sweating bullets since climbing out of Lake Travis. After an afternoon of floating belly-up in your bikini off of the dock of the yacht club your dad frequents, your need for a drink finally outweighed your need for aimless swimming.

Your bare feet are still burning from the hotfooted walk across the wooden deck into the bar. Water droplets cling to your skin and leave a pattern of stippled concrete in your wake. It’s been a few hours you’ve seen your dad around the club, having already gotten into a pissing contest with new club members over horsepower and amenities. Your dad’s the type to always want the biggest and the best: the most decks, the biggest wine fridge, the nicest galley — because God forbid he lose his running ten-year superiority to a newbie.

So yeah, you need a drink. You don’t even have to order; the bartender, Callie, simply slides your usual order over, which you nurse while watching a preseason football game. You haven’t bothered to sit down, your hip popped out with your elbows propped up on the granite countertop.

You don’t even notice the wolf whistle from behind is directed at you until a man sidles up next to you, flashing a smile at Callie. He looks like he belongs in a yacht club, curls styled and sculpted neatly around his face down to where the collar of his blue blazer begins. Some of the buttons on his striped shirt are undone, and your eyes, much to your chagrin, linger at the slice of tanned chest peeking through the fabric.

He looks you up and down, unabashedly licking his lips when he sees the crease of your thighs. “Sweetheart, you’re much too pretty to be entertainin’ the ragtag kinda men around here.”

It’s not the first time you’ve been hit on by the yachters at this particular club, but it is the first time one of them has caught your eye. “I’m not–” you start before you hear the telltale sign of your dad’s laughter coming from close by. You turn around, drink in hand as he rounds the corner, sunglasses on and a towel around the back of his neck. 

Your dad’s expression immediately sours with a speed you’ve never seen in him before. His lips draw tight at the sight of you – or maybe the sight of the man next to you.

“Joel,” your dad says, separating from his entourage. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“Seems it,” the man, presumably Joel, nods, flagging down Callie for an old fashioned. The glass sweats condensation along his sturdy hand. He holds eye contact with you while he sips, only looking away when he runs his tongue along the rim of the glass. “Oughta let me take ‘er for a ride one day. Bet she’d appreciate the fine machinery of a real boat.”

You don’t miss the innuendo to his words even if your dad doesn’t. You scrub your hands along your sides, your sunscreen-sticky skin dewy beneath your palms. You shush the part of yourself that bets you’d appreciate it, too.

“Your boat is maybe good for getting to the retirement home across the lake,” your dad snaps, squeezing your shoulder. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s head home.”

You find your flip flops at the bottom of your beach bag, barely having the time to kick them on before your dad is practically pulling you out of the yacht club. He gives half-hearted waves to his usual boating buddies until you’re in the parking lot, surrounded by heat shimmering over the blacktop. The scalding hot leather seats burn the backs of your thighs and the small of your back as you settle in. With a purr, the air conditioner blows a fresh burst of wind in your face.

“What was that all about?” you ask when he starts the engine.

Your dad clips his sunglasses on his polo shirt, gripping the steering wheel ten and two with a winded sigh through his nose. “Fuckin’... rookie with his triple-decker Ferretti.”

Joel looked rich. But not Ferretti rich. “Who the hell in Austin owns a Ferretti?”

“That son of a bitch, that’s who. I don’t want you runnin’ amok on Joel’s boat, you hear me?”

“Ain’t planning on it,” you respond as if you don’t already know what’ll happen if Joel propositions you again.

You see Joel again soon, but only in passing. A wink behind your father’s back, a drink from the gentleman across the bar that was only coincidentally Joel. The locations of these run-ins are always different. Sometimes you walked by each other on the dock. Sometimes he’d give you both a quick wave from across the water before he sped off, leaving the boat rocking on the stirred up tide and your dad cussing up a storm.

Today’s almost-tryst happens on the dock. You’re walking past Joel’s designated dock in a bikini that you’d nearly thrown out because of its snug fit. You have to smother your disappointment when you don’t see him on the top deck sipping a beer. You know better than to be disappointed over the man who your dad has not only claimed as a mortal enemy, but also claimed as the antichrist. With the thoughts Joel gives you when your hand is between your thighs, it might not be too far from the truth.

You think you have most of it figured out – he’s rough, he has to be. With how relentless as he is on the waters, it makes no sense for him to be anything else. His fancy, custom belt buckles snicking as it comes undone so he can yank his jeans down and get inside of you. Those chains he always wears would hang in your face, swaying with every roll of his hips into yours as he chases his pleasure deep inside of your–

“Woah there, darlin’,” a honeyed voice coaxes you, a muscled arm darting out to stop you in your path. “Almost walked right into the lake.” Your head snaps up to look at Joel, the very inconvenient object of your fantasies. You swallow the quickly-forming lump in the back of your throat. “You sure you ain’t had too many?”

“Positive,” you say. You haven’t even done a shot s0 far today.

“Mmm, alright.” The playful glint in his eyes doesn’t seem too convinced. It makes your heart stutter before you remind it to keep beating. “Tell ya what, you’re welcome to ‘sober up’ on my boat.”

You look between where your dad’s dock sits empty. He’s out with his co-workers today, shooting the shit too much for their own good. Then you look between Joel and his boat, the beauty of a Ferretti that’s just two steps away.

Mouth already watering at the possibilities, you say, “I do remember you promising me a ride, old man.”

Joel’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, and he makes the long step from the dock to the boat, hand held out for you. You don’t hesitate to let him help you aboard. 

You’re on your knees in front of the captain’s chair before he gets to the middle of Lake Travis. “Old man,” he mocks above you with his legs spread as far as they can go. You kitten-lick his hardened cock, making sure to lap up the obscene amount of his precum. There’s certainly one part of Joel that doesn’t need to go to a retirement home, and it’s in your mouth. You suckle at the leaking head of his cock while his strokes your cheek, only pulling away to spoon a drop of his precum from your lip onto your tongue. “You like suckin’ an older man’s cock, pretty girl?”

You nod eagerly, taking him deeper so you can tongue the vein along the underside of his cock. From that, he groans, head slumping on the headrest so he can gather himself. You spit a generous amount into your hand, wrapping around the base to properly suck him.

“Bet there’s a whole ‘nother lake in that skimpy lil’ bikini of yours, ain’t that right?” You nod around his length and go a little deeper. He’s heavy on your tongue, long and girthy all at once. He presses lightly against the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him, but you wouldn’t pull away from him even if the yacht itself set on fire. He moans as you start to bob your head up and down. You rub your thighs together just thinking about what his cock could be capable of between your legs. “Mhm, I know, baby. You wanna push that outta the way and give it a rub for me? A rub for your real daddy?”

A choked whimper punches its way out of you. His hips jerk from the vibrations, unintentionally pushing himself further down your throat. You expect it to be too much, but it isn’t. You pull away from him, taking a quick breath as you wrap your hand around the wide palm seated on his thigh and raise it to the back of your head. “Please fuck my throat, daddy,” you pout up at him, a mixture of your spit and his precum dripping down your chin and into your cleavage.

Another groan tugs its way out of him when he looks down at you. He cups the back of your head and brings his cock back to your mouth. “Can’t say no to such a gorgeous fuckin’ face. Gonna look so damn good covered in my cum.” You keep licking his tip, not wanting to miss a single drop of him. “Go ‘head and put a hand on your pussy, baby. Rub that clit that daddy’s got all throbbin’.”

And how could you ever say no to him? Your hand is down your bikini within seconds, peeling your tacky panties away from your cunt so your fingertips can rub circles along your clit. A circle against your swollen core pulls a moan from you right as he thrusts into your throat. He starts out slow, tentative as he pushes all the way into your throat and then pulls all the way out. His second thrust is much harder, stifling your breathing for a moment as a strangled noise of pleasure leave his parted lips.

He nudges you further down onto his cock, burying your nose into the triangle of skin exposed by his rumpled button-down. You force down the gag that builds in the back of your throat. Joel keeps your mouth speared on his cock with shallow rolls of his hips into the warm wetness of your mouth. You whine, prompting a hearty chuckle from him. “Good girl, daddy’s good little girl. Keep playin’ with yourself for me.” He smirks down at you. “Ain’t much different than what you do in your own bed, huh? Pussy just cryin’ for some cock, I bet.”

You moan in agreement as your eyes flutter shut when you rub your clit harder, harder, harder until arousal is smeared all over your knuckles and across your mound. “Nuh-uh,” he says with a punctuating adjustment of his hips. You gag, spit webbing through Joel’s happy trail. “Eyes on me.”

You’re satisfied to find him just as debauched as you feel. Strands of his usually put-together hair are out of place along his forehead, and his golden chain glistens with sweat. His hands grip the arms of the captain’s chair, spread on the tanned leather and exerting dominance over your kneeling silhouette. But you aren’t fooled. There’s a certain rosiness to his cheeks, a flare to his nose, that lets you in on the secret: he’s just as wrecked, just as in deep as you are.

You pull up and immediately sink down on his cock again, pleading eyes looking up at him, asking him. I want it daddy. I want you. And then he’s fucking your throat in earnest. His hips buck up to meet the back of your throat. You struggle to keep up with his size, his pace, but you suck his cock even with the knowledge that you won’t know how to explain your sore throat or raspy voice to your dad.

Joel squints down at you, absorbing the seeping spit from the corners of your raw lips, your droopy, ecstasy-laden eyes. He sighs, sinking down into the chair as he grinds his cock into your mouth and moves your head up and down his length. You take the hand that isn’t playing with your clit and reach to grab at his balls, kneading them. A narrow breath trips out of his lips. “Nasty bitch. Fuck, baby. Daddy’s close. Keep – keep doin’ that.” You drag your tongue along that bottom vein again, kneading one of his balls and making sure that when he pulls you off of his cock, you treat the head to one final taste. 

“Open up, slut,” he coaxes. His cock twitches. He jerks himself once, twice, and then cums, rope after rope hitting your damp skin. His cum is hot, sticky, and you’re too preoccupied with trying to catch some of his release that your hand stalls over your cunt. You whimper when his cum lands on your tongue and follow it up by swallowing. Joel’s breath is unsteady as he looks down at you, cock softening in his lap. “Good girl,” he praises, reaching out to run his thumb along your stained skin. Drop by drop, he feeds you his cum, and you lap it up just as eagerly as you’d lapped him up. 

You pull your hand out of your bikini when he’s done, tacky arousal stretching between your fingers. Going back on your haunches, you suck in a deep breath through your abused throat. 

Joel pats his wide, thick thighs above you, the same ones you’ve been fantasizing about since that first day in the bar. “I promised you a ride, didn’t I?” A familiar, hooked smirk pulls at his mouth. Your face lights up in recognition and you practically scamper onto his thigh, stumbling as you tug your bikini out of the way to settle yourself on the linen coral shorts he has on. Joel laughs, a noise that has your cunt leaking onto the fabric, clit fluttering from the friction. Heat pulls tight in your stomach.

His hands land on your hips, guiding you back and forth when you hesitate at first. “Grind on daddy’s thigh, baby. Wanna see you cum on me.” Your head tips forward, forehead slotting against his shoulder when you start to push your hips into his. Need springs awake in your stomach when he drags you forward. A frayed moan tumbles out of you from his near-manhandling. You rut into Joel, bouncing, grinding yourself on him in the same way that you’d imagined yourself doing at least a dozen times before this.

“Daddy,” you whimper when the muscle goes taut underneath you, plucking something in your cunt. At the same time, a speedboat passes Joel’s yacht outside, leaving the ship rocking on the water in time with your movements as you ride his thigh. You yelp, a strained noise as the pressure intensifies on your clit. “Close!”

He grips your hips even tighter, bounces his thigh up against you. “That’s it, that’s it. Let it happen baby, give it to daddy.”

You come undone with the taste of his cum still rich on your tongue and his words ringing in your buzzing ears. Your orgasm whips through your body and leaves you shuddering against his center, halfheartedly continuing to roll your hips up against him. His thumbs rub circles into your skin while you come down. You suck in a shaky breath, Joel’s palm stroking the small of your back. “Did good for me, baby. Look real pretty when you come. Real pretty.”

You give him a shy smile, and he leans forward to kiss you, a brief moment of gentleness amidst his usually ubiquitous harshness. He pulls away with a tiny pat to your ass. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You stumble off of him on shaky legs, leaning against the captain’s console. Joel pulls his shorts down his thighs and tucks his cock away, the wet spot your cunt had made on him beyond visible as he stretches himself out. He fishes around in a drawer in the galley for his baby wipes and joins you back at the console. He takes them to your face, wiping down where his cum had hit your skin. He even dabs gently at your thighs. Orgasm bliss clings to the edges of your vision still, and you can’t help but lean into him as he takes care of you.

“Could take you for a real ride, now,” Joel says with a moderate shrug. “Nice cove on the west side of the lake, good for a quick swim. I’m sure your dad would throw a fit if he knew, but I’m sure you’re good at keepin’ secrets, too. Got a real good mouth on ya.”

You playfully punch his shoulder with a roll of your eyes, and in that moment, it feels like you’ve known Joel much longer than you have at all. Like this isn’t your first time on his boat, and this wasn’t his first time being in your mouth. “Alright,” you begrudgingly smile at him. “Whatever you say, old man.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he starts the engine.

[devirnis]

7 for there was only one bed prompts (10 as a back up if someone has already requested 7...or you could do both if they spark joy :3)

hi molly <33333 YOU spark joy so you get both prompts as a special treat :3

It’s late by the time Eddie finally pulls up in front of his house. In the passenger seat beside him, Buck is still staring blankly out the window, showing no indication that he’s aware they’ve arrived at their destination.

He’s been like this since they left the hospital. Quiet, still. Despondent. 

“Left” is probably a generous way of putting it. After hours of keeping vigil in the hospital waiting room, Athena had practically forced them all into the parking lot after they got the news that Bobby’s surgery had gone well. The doctors were only cautiously optimistic, but their confidence was enough to have Athena sending them all home for a good night’s sleep and a change of clothes. She ordered them to look more presentable for when Bobby woke up the following day.

Eddie wishes he could summon some of Athena’s unshakeable faith – not just for Buck, but for himself as well.

When they’d arrived back at the station, Eddie had taken one look at Buck’s nearly catatonic state and made the executive decision that Buck was coming home with him. Buck hadn’t put up any fight when Eddie had taken his duffle bag and steered him to the truck; he’d barely acknowledged Eddie’s declaration that he’d be spending the night.

Now, Eddie reaches across the middle console to undo Buck’s seatbelt. The click of it releasing is deafening in the stifling silence of the truck. Buck flinches a bit at the noise, finally turning away from the window to look at Eddie.

“We’re here,” Eddie says.

Buck nods, still not speaking, and opens the passenger side door to get out. Eddie sighs and follows him.

The house is dark and still when they step inside. Eddie drops both their bags at the front door, happy to let that be a problem for tomorrow – today, whatever – before herding Buck to the kitchen. Neither of them have had anything to drink other than shitty hospital coffee since Bobby’s accident, so Eddie quickly fills two glasses with water. When he hands Buck a glass, Buck stares at it like he’s never seen water before in his life.

“Drink,” Eddie encourages. “We’re both probably dehydrated.” 

Buck brings the glass to his lips, his movements jerky and robotic. Any other day, Eddie would tease him for it, but he knows that’s the last thing Buck needs right now.

After taking a few sips, Buck suddenly looks around, like he’s just realized where he is. “Chris?” he asks. His voice is hoarse from screaming for Bobby earlier.

“At Jeremy’s,” Eddie says. “I called his moms earlier and asked if he could spend the night.”

He’d slipped away after the first hour of Bobby’s surgery to make the arrangements. He’d already planned on dragging Buck home with him, but he hadn’t wanted Buck to feel like he needed to keep it together for Chris if Bobby…

Buck nods, and then finishes his water. Eddie quickly downs his own glass and plucks Buck’s out of his loose grip, depositing them both in the sink.

“Come on,” Eddie says gently. “Let’s go to bed, grab a couple hours of sleep, and then we can be at the hospital bright and early. Athena can’t turn us away if we bring breakfast.”

He offers Buck a smile, which Buck half-heartedly returns. But he seems a little less lost now that Eddie’s promised to take him back to the hospital – back to Bobby – in the morning. Eddie wonders how he can casually offer for Buck to sleep in his bed tonight. He doesn’t particularly relish the idea of Buck spending the night alone on the couch, and, maybe a little selfishly, Eddie wants the company too. He’s been trying to hold it together for Buck’s sake – he’s good at that, being strong for others when he needs to be – but that doesn’t mean that seeing Bobby unconscious and bleeding on the stretcher hadn’t shaken him to his core.

Eddie steps around Buck and heads for the hallway. “Do you –?”

 “Can I join you?” Buck interrupts. “I just… I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

You never have to ask, Eddie wants to say, and then he takes in the image of Buck before him: he’s small, hunched in on himself, lower lip caught between his teeth, already half-turned away like he’s expecting Eddie to reject him, even though Buck only beat Eddie’s offer to share the bed by a couple of seconds.

Eddie quickly closes the distance between them and folds Buck into his arms. “If you think I’m letting you sleep on the couch after today, you’re insane.”

Buck laughs into his neck, a little wetly. “Sorry. I’m just really tired.”

“Let’s go to bed, then.”

They take turns in the bathroom. When Eddie comes back into his room and sees Buck dressed in a pair of his old gym shorts and a threadbare t-shirt, something settles inside Eddie’s chest. It’s not how he wanted this to happen, but he can’t deny that having Buck here, in his bedroom, in his clothes, feels right in a way that he’s tired of ignoring. 

Eddie crawls under the covers first. He expects Buck to follow suit, but when he’s settled on his back, he sees Buck still hovering awkwardly beside the bed, like he’s not sure he’s actually allowed. 

“Buck, come on,” Eddie beckons him softly, lifting the sheets up.

Buck slowly climbs into the bed, settling on his side so he’s facing Eddie. Rolling over to mirror his position, Eddie can see that Buck’s eyes are wet, even in the darkness of the bedroom.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, opening his arms.

Buck chokes on a whimper, but doesn’t hesitate before burrowing into Eddie’s chest. Eddie holds him tightly as he shakes, tilting his head down to press his lips to Buck’s hair.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

Buck lets out a trembling breath. Then he tips his chin up and covers Eddie’s mouth with his own.

Eddie freezes for half a second before he instinctively starts kissing back. Buck’s mouth is soft and warm, the feeling better than anything Eddie’s imagined. And oh how he’s imagined – for weeks, trying to figure out how to gauge if kissing might be something that Buck wants too.

Then Eddie’s brain catches up to what’s happening. 

Buck is seeking comfort and reassurance, and Eddie would do anything to grant him that, but he doesn’t want this to be only because Buck is worried about Bobby.

He disconnects their lips, as much as it pains him to do so. “Buck –”

Buck’s face falls. “Sorry,” Buck chokes out. “No, obviously, you don’t want – I don’t know what I was even thinking –”

He starts rolling away and fumbling with the sheets, like he’s going to get out of bed and exile himself to the couch. Eddie’s heart clenches for having inadvertently hurt Buck, even if he knows this is the right call. His hand shoots out to get a grip on Buck’s shoulder and reel him back in.

“Of course I want this,” Eddie says earnestly. Buck looks guarded, but he’s stopped actively trying to escape, at least. “I want you. But not – It’s late and we’re tired and I want to do it properly. Start us properly.”

“Us?” Buck repeats quietly.

“Yes, us.” Eddie manhandles Buck on to his side so Eddie can curl up behind him. “We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” Buck agrees, his voice a relieved exhale. 

He snuggles back against Eddie, and Eddie can’t help but press a kiss to the back of Buck’s neck. Buck sighs contentedly as he covers Eddie’s hand on his chest with his own, threading their fingers together.

“It’s going to be okay,” Eddie whispers against his skin. He can’t make any promises, but he knows: they’re together now, whatever happens. They’ll hold each other through it.

“Okay,” Buck says again, and then brings their joined hands up and kisses Eddie’s knuckles. “Thank you.”

I love you, Eddie thinks. He’ll say those words soon, but not tonight. Instead, he rests his forehead against the nape of Buck’s neck. “Any time.” What he really means is every time, all the time, for the rest of our lives. From the way Buck melts back against him, Eddie thinks he might be able to hear those words anyway.

(also on ao3)

[thetzar]

✻ ･˳ﾟ✻･˳ﾟ✻ ･˳ﾟ✻･˳ﾟ✻ ･˳ﾟ✻･˳ﾟ✻ ･˳ﾟ

Wowwwww !!!!! How Romantic 🥰

I went through many emotions reading this. 🤭

It just left me speechless.

What A Utterly Marvellous Story 👏

Softcore

Summary: Alys relishes in the sweetness of revenge with a kindred spirit.

Word count: 400

Dividers by @djarrex

“What have you seen?” he asks her bluntly in accordance with their arrangement these few moons, transactional with a tinge of trust.

She feels the air shift around her as she descends, flexing her fingers by her side with discomfort. The Tower of Dread looms behind her as she glides through the open sky, the moon greeting her as she makes her way forwards with purpose. She spots him at the entrance, staring into the giant hearth, still like the absence of the habitual winds haunting the land. It is the hour of ghosts in the Hall of Hundred Hearths, the giant chambers that gloat of the residence of thousands yet their shadows remain the ones that cling to the walls. He doesn't turn to acknowledge her presence, simply lifting his head to stare at the mantelpiece above, a myriad of swords crossed over each other in formation much like the throne he seems to covet yet despise all the same.

“Nothing of significance” she responds playfully, surprising them both.

He turns to her then, displeased before she sees his eye widen in shock. The flicker of emotions that pass through that otherwise unfeeling gaze makes her smile, for in his stare she sees something of her own. Appall and wonder shine through the mirror that dangles between them as she stands before him, suppressing her glee to twirl, turning to the fire for comfort instead.

“I was owed a debt” she finds herself admitting after a pause, vague yet hopeful.

“So it seems” is all he remarks, still gazing at the droplets that cling to her. Rivulets of red coat her skin from the tips of her lashes to the womb she's tormented far too many times, blazing maroon in the light as she regards him again.

“You shall need this in the days to come” he says, cocking his head as he takes in the sight before him without a hint of discomfort.

“My thirst for blood?” she smirks inching closer to the warmth he emits. She feels him bring his palm to her face, clammy yet certain as he runs his fingers along her cheek tracing a droplet all the way to the muck on her chin before bringing it to his lips.

“Your penchant for winning” he says before tasting her victory. Blood, she thinks, has never tasted sweeter than on lips that desire the same.

Taglist: @arcielee @witheredoffherwitch @barbieaemond @succnfuccubus @paprikaquinn @watercolorskyy

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

hello, my dear Mallory 🩶

with this ask I challenge you to write a ficlet (or anything bigger if you want) inspired by this screenshot:

may the writing muses be with you,

kissing you on your forehead (if you allow it not then just waving from the distance!)

Oh Aly! This was so fun and lovely to write this morning. Jackson Joel will always have my heart.

---

His chair scrapes across the worn floorboards. He settles on the seat, across from her. 

“Remember what I showed you last time?” he asks. His voice is deep and affectionate. 

“Yeah, I’ve been practicing a lot.” She responds, holding the guitar the exact way he showed her how. 

“Go ahead,” he says, nodding encouragingly. "Show me what you've learned."

Her fingers find their spots over the rungs. She gently clears her throat, adjusts her posture, and takes a deep breath before strumming the first note. The first few chords are a little clumsy, but as she continues her confidence grows.

“Good,” he praises, nodding along to the rhythm.

Pride swells in his heart as he notices the small improvements in her technique. This feeling inside his heart once seemed so foreign and long forgotten, buried under the years of grief that wrapped around his heart in a tight hold.

A smile forms on his lips, almost unconsciously, as he watches her play. The wrinkles around his eyes soften, warmth spreading throughout his chest as if he’s being embraced by every note she strums.

Her face is set in determination, brows furrowed above her brown eyes that roam across the instrument. 

Memories of Sarah and the way he used to teach her swirl through his mind. He can almost see her sitting there instead, her curls catching the sunlight, her small fingers fumbling over the strings just as Ellie’s are now. She’s not Sarah, but she’s here and she needs him, just as much as he knows he needs her.

She misses a chord, but instantly corrects herself.

“That’s it,” he encourages softly. “You did good. That G chord is a pain.”

She bites her lip in concentration, gently humming along to the music.

The final chord rings out, she looks up at him expectantly with a mix of hope and nervousness in her eyes.

“You did good, baby girl,” he says with a nod.

“Yeah, well, I couldn't have done it without you,” she grins as she gently puts the guitar down. “You’re like… really good, Joel.”

He looks away with a bashful grin. Years of heartbreak and cold still haunt him, but within the walls of their shared home, where her boots lay carelessly in the middle of the walkway—no matter how many times he trips over them—there is warmth and love.

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

An Eventful Ride

A snz ficlet based off this prompt

CW/TW: Org*sm, Overstimulation, Spray

*****************************

“Goddamnit…”

They’d been this way before, hadn’t they? To be honest, Reed didn’t have an ever-loving clue. No matter how many times she looked at the map, nothing ever looked right. You’d seen one rock or tree or pond, you’d seen ‘em all.

“Y’alrighd, sweetheart?”

Wendy sniffled against Reed’s shoulder, wrinkling her nose. She hadn’t been feeling too well since the storm a few nights ago before had soaked their sleeping bags and tents — and what had started as a case of the sniffles had become a real hell of a cold.

“We cad stop here for the night…” Wendy began, but Reed cut her off.

“You ain’t spending one more night out here, sick as you are. Gunther reckoned he saw snow clouds Tuesday, comin’ straight for the valley.”

Wendy smiled weakly. “He also told ya thad he was champion at cards, but you beat hib every tibe.”

Reed chuckled, patting the horse’s neck as they came across a bubbling stream.

“He’s not all that at cards, but he’s never been wrong about the clouds. Besides, a cold ain’t anything to sneeze-”

Suddenly, Wendy’s breath shuddered, and she buried her nose into the crook of Reed’s neck.

“hhhtch’chiew!”

Reed tightened her grip on the reigns. Wendy tittered and took out her handkerchief.

“Oh, ‘scuse be. Sduck up on me.”

She dabbed her handkerchief on her partner’s neck, then took to dabbing her nose.

Reed swallowed, her face burning. Wendy blew her nose.

“I really ab sorry, Reed. I didn’d mean to.”

Reed cleared her throat. “Don’tcha worry about it. It just, er, surprised me is all.”

Surprised was quite an understatement. Ever since they’d gotten on the road this morning, Wendy’s sniffles and sneezes had distracted Reed to no end. Something about that pink nose scrunching up, her eyelids fluttering, her whimpers, her shuddering breaths…

And her sneezes.

Not only were they as pretty as could be, but they were always bestowed to Reed on her neck or shoulder, leaving a wet spray on her leather vest.

Reed also rode high in her saddle, the rocking between her legs giving her both relief and a burden she could hardly stand carrying.

“Oh, s-sakes ali-hive-!”

Wendy put her handkerchief to her nose again. Her nose wrinkled, and she batted her long eyelashes.

“I thingk I bay…hay-!”

Reed steeled herself, trying to pay attention to the path ahead of her. But between Wendy’s warm, shuddering breath in her ear, as well as her bosom pressing against her with every hitch, along with the steady movement of the saddle…

“Hih-! HIH-!”

Reed grit her teeth, her knuckles white on the reigns.

“HHHHI’tchiiiew!”

Reed put her hands on her calves, bending forward as her pleasure reached its climax. She willed herself not to shudder as she ground her teeth and leaned back against Wendy.

“Mmmph…”

Wendy looked up, once again cleaning up her nose.

“Darling?”

Reed took a deep breath, readjusting herself in the saddle.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” she sighed. “Just a…bur or s-something, I think.”

Wendy rubbed her cheek against Reed’s shoulder.

“If I felt byself, I’d fight off thad bush for ya,” she croaked. “Nobody messes with by ranger.”

Reed bit her lip.

“W-Why don’tcha try to rest a bit?” she said. “We’ve got a while ‘til the next town, if the map’s right. I don’t want you to tire yourself out.”

Wendy murmured her agreement, already dozing against Reed — who was still trying to get her bearings.

But while Reed thought that she’d get some peace while her partner was asleep, she was sorely mistaken.

To keep herself from falling off, Wendy had, at some point in the ride, thrown her arms around Reed’s chest, nestling into her shoulder. As she faded in and out of sleep, she would rub her cold, leaking nose into Reed’s neck, sniffling and murmuring in her dreams.

If wasn’t long before Reed has both hands on the horn of the saddle, trying not to wake her sleeping partner. However, keeping herself together wasn’t as easy as before.

“Nnngh~!”

Reed gasped, bending forward with a shudder. Wendy yawned.

“Mm, honey?” she murmured. “Y’okay?”

“Yep,” Reed said shortly. “Right as rain.”

Wendy put her arms over Reed’s shoulders.

“Why don’d we camp for tonight? We’ve been riding an awful long tibe, and I’b sure you’re exhausted.”

As much as Reed wanted to get off the horse, a part of her still didn’t feel right camping out in the cold while Wendy was sick.

But, before Reed could argue, she felt Wendy’s nose wrinkle against her shoulder.

Oh no. Oh heavens no.

“Hihih-!”

Reed wrapped the reigns around her hands, pulling them tight between her fingers. She held her breath. She bit her lip.

But all she could think of was —

“hhhhh’TCHIEW! TSH’IEW!”

“GAH~!”

Reed convulsed, unable to help herself. She ground against the saddle, gasping with pleasure that she for so long hadn’t allowed herself.

“Hah~! Haah~”

Finally, Reed rested against the horse’s neck, almost bent over the saddle.

“Reed!”

Wendy slid off the saddle, coming to Reed’s side.

“Honey, whad’s wrong? Can ya hear be?”

Reed breathed heavily, still not quite recovered.

“Maybe there’s a physician sobewhere,” Wendy said, grabbing the map. “And get ya checked…”

Read swallowed. “Wendy.”

“I kndew we should’ve camped for the night! And you were tellin’ be not to get worn out!”

“Wendy. ‘S fine.”

“It’s ndot! Oh, it’s all my fault. If I didn’d go and catch this cold, we would’ve-”

Suddenly, Reed leaned over, taking Wendy’s face in her hands.

“Wendy.”

Wendy stopped, looking up at Reed with wide eyes.

“I ain’t sick,” Reed continued. “And it ain’t your fault. And if it is, it’s ‘cause you’re just too damn pretty. You and your pretty little nose.”

Wendy blinked. “Huh?”

She glanced down, then looked up again, her face turning bright red.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Reed gave a sheepish smile. “It wasn’t hard the first time, y’know…but the second ‘n third…I couldn’t…er…”

“Now, never you mbind!” Wendy interrupted. “Let’s ged all cleaned up, and then I’ll get in with ya in your sleeping bag. I bet you could use some TLC…”

Wendy took Reed’s hand to help her get off the saddle. Reed limped into her lover’s arms.

She’d tell her about the whole sneeze thing later. For now, what she needed was a sleepy night under the stars.

[sanarsi]

hello, my dearest Nari 🧡

with this ask I challenge you to write a ficlet (or anything bigger if you want) inspired by this screenshot:

may the writing muses be with you,

kissing you on your forehead (if you allow it not then just waving from the distance!)

ps almost sent you nudes

Father’s Love

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Life is a bitch that can surprise with reverse version of Joel’s nightmare. Warnings: angst, canon violence, child!reader Wordcount: 1,2k An: I wanted to write more so I don’t promise there won’t be a part 2. A wonderful plot twist was created in my head ugh. This is a part of this -> challenge by my lovely Aly (literally my muse) who almost!!! sent me dirty things.

Masterlist

Joel knew what he needed to survive.

As luck would have it, everything was within reach.

A working car, a gun and ammo, food supplies, and a few other things. The only thing standing in his way was a man, tall man and obviously well-trained, maybe a military? Joel had killed a lot of people and felt no inhibitions about doing it again, especially with such good loot waiting for him.

So he waited, hidden in the bushes, and silently just watched.

He wanted to wait until dark, maybe even until the man fell asleep, but the perfect opportunity presented itself earlier. The universe itself was giving him signs that he had to do it. And he had to do it now.

As quietly as he could, he reloaded his weapon, never taking his eyes off his enemy. The man sat with his back to him, completely unaware of anything, changing the bandage on his foot.

There was no better opportunity and Joel knew it. So he pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed through the forest and birds fled from nearby trees. He only watched as a limp body with a hole in its head fell to the ground. After that, there was dead silence.

He waited a moment, but definitely too short, before he decided to come out of hiding.

Maybe if he had stuck to his own principles back then he wouldn’t have done almost something he would regret for the rest of his life.

Hearing was faster than his sight at someone’s footsteps, he automatically aimed the gun in that direction. For a moment he didn’t know if he saw correctly when a child appeared in front of him. A little girl who was terrified and trembling with fear.

She looked exceptionally well-groomed. Unworn jeans, a sweatshirt and sneakers that looked almost new. No scars or dirt on her face. But it was her eyes that gave away the most — she didn’t see much evil. She looked as if Joel was the first person to make her realize that such a thing really existed.

Joel let out a slow breath and relaxed his muscles as he looked at her longer and longer. He lowered the gun a bit and with every passing second he saw her more closely, clearly. He felt a growing weight in his chest, as if the consequences of his actions were looking at him with those big tearful eyes. He didn’t want to think about what appeared in his head at the thought of the child but when her gaze fell on the body lying a few feet behind him, he knew that the weight of guilt was just starting to crush him. Slowly and painfully.

“Daddy?” Her soft, breaking voice pierced the heavy silence. He shivered at the sound, so reminiscent of the one that followed him in his nightmares. Tears welled up in his eyes and he didn’t fight them when they started to roll down his cheeks.

Karma caught up with him in the worst possible way.

For the first time in several long years, he felt like he had failed again. Like his nightmare had become reality again, but this time, he was the one who caused all the evil.

He knew that with another burden he could not continue to live. He could not allow his nightmare to gain the strength to crush him.

So he let his instincts take over again.

“Hi kiddo,” he said in a slightly hoarse voice and managed a gentle smile. The girl met his gaze again. Tears refused to escape her eyes. “What’s your name?”

Joel watched as she clenched her fists tighter around the sleeves of her sweatshirt and shook her head, clearly not wanting to answer his question.

“’s all right,” he tried to assure her. As proof of his words, he slowly crouched down and tossed the gun aside. “See? I won’t hurt you.” He spread his arms in a friendly gesture and, despite the tears glistening on his cheeks, tried to look friendly.

You had to trust him. He had no other choice now.

“You seem like a smart girl.” He smiled wider. He almost managed to ignore the pain in his heart. “I’m sure your dad taught ya a lot of things, right?”

She nodded uncertainly. He tried to stop himself from moving too aggressively, not wanting to scare her. But the urge to grab her in his arms now and apologize for what he had done was overwhelming, almost unbeatable.

“Your daddy tell you how to cope when he can’t do it for ya?”

She denied again, “No.” Her soft and uncertain voice almost broke him in half.

He could hardly believe that after everything he had experienced, he found himself again in the same and yet completely different position as so many years ago. But life was a bitch.

“Can I show ya?” he asked, wanting to give her a choice, an illusory possibility, but she was just a child. A child he had hurt just as someone had hurt him.

Her chin quivered as she nodded, “’kay.” She was on the verge of tears. Her small body was shaking, whether from the cold or the emotion he didn’t know, so he barely managed to restrain himself from pulling her into a tight embrace.

“I know you’re a tough girl,” he praised her with a wide smile he was holding with all his strength. “You’re smart and I’m sure you could handle any obstacle, right?”

She listened to him carefully. She was fully focused on him and that made things much easier. She had to see only him, she couldn't look at the dead body lying behind him.

She couldn't.

“Mhm,” she murmured softly, clenching her fists tighter.

“Attagirl.” He laughed through his tears and took a deep, calming breath. “Your daddy said if he couldn’t take care of you,” he began slowly, moving closer to her. She wasn’t afraid. She didn’t back down. “I have to do it for him.”

He stopped in front of her and watched her reaction. She seemed to process his words, as if she didn’t understand their meaning. Seeing her confusion, he slowly knelt down in front of her with a warm smile and watched the confusion in her eyes for a moment.

She was so small, so innocent and pure…

“So you are my daddy now?”

And he barely stopped himself from choking on his tears.

He sobbed, covering his mouth and nodded without thinking. He couldn’t hesitate. He couldn’t let you see his hesitation. So he was sure of his new role. He was sure that he had to become a father again.

And he became it the moment she pressed herself tightly against his chest, burying her face in his neck, and his arms closed her tightly.

He felt it. Again. The strength that came from holding a small being in his arms, someone who depended only on him. And this time, he knew he wouldn’t fail, can’t fail.

Tags: @syd-djarin @yorksgirl @puduvallee @luciaispunk @theoraekenslover @bbyanarchist