#and have been workin really hard on it all week

[psychhound]

It don’t matter how you got here. Don’t matter what the destination is. At some point, somehow, against the odds … Shadow felt safe with the Giant. And the Giant, though they mighta sworn off it before … cares for the Shadow. There’ll be threats. Always will be. But, maybe, you can get through. Find safety. Together. As long as it takes to get there.

And through those long days, cold nights … the tears, the fears, the fighting … someone, somewhere … might just mistake you for a family.

Well. Wouldn’t that be somethin.

Shadow / Giant is a duet roleplaying game about finding care, safety, and family amidst a malicious and unaccepting world. In it, one player will play as the Giant – a gruff and jaded adult who thought their care for the world was long gone – and the other will play the Shadow – a child with magical abilities who now relies on them for protection.

The game is asymmetrical: both child and guardian have different rules they play by, and different ways of interacting with the world. They must work together to rise to the challenges of living in a world that doesn’t seem to want them in it. But both can push their mission to the breaking point. All you want to do is find somewhere safe to go.

In Shadow/Giant you'll ... 

work together to tell the story, trading off who narrates scenes

explore themes of care, duty, marginalization, harm, and chosen family

handle miscommunications that come between the characters

balance taking necessary risks with consequences that could end the game

build a world and characters together to tell a story that matters

follow your characters over one session or many - as long as you want to keep telling their story

Shadow/Giant is based on the Badger + Coyote System from @pandiongames and is published under the ORC license

get it now on itch - or kofi!!

[wadewnstonwilson]

need you close;

summary: when your busy schedule leaves logan feeling neglected, he craves your attention in his own way—by showing up with small, thoughtful gestures and lingering touches that hint at his pent-up need. despite his rugged exterior, logan’s vulnerability shines through as he tries to remind you he’s still there, waiting.

word count: 1k

a/n: okay so this was originally a headcanon idea but this was my most popular headcanon so I definitely wanted to post it as a one shot! always feel free to leave an ask if you guys want anymore logan themed headcanons or fics!

Logan wasn’t used to being ignored. Or at least, not by you. It had been weeks since you’d been swamped with work, and while you appreciated his support, you couldn’t help but feel the strain on your relationship. He’d never say it, not out loud at least, but Logan was needy, and he craved your attention like nothing else.

The soft scratch of a pen met your ears, but you didn’t even look up from your laptop. Logan stood by the counter, lazily scribbling something on a piece of paper. He’d been in and out of your office all day, never staying long but always making his presence known. His scent—musky, earthy, all Logan—lingered long after he’d leave. It used to comfort you, but now it only reminded you of the time you couldn’t give him.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Logan, I’m really busy.”

Without missing a beat, he crossed the room and placed a steaming cup of your favorite coffee on the desk. His fingers lingered, brushing against yours as he slid the cup toward you. You glanced up and caught the faintest smirk on his lips.

“Thought you could use a pick-me-up,” he grumbled, leaning in closer. His warm breath fanned over your cheek, and you could feel the tension melt from your muscles, despite how desperately you needed to focus. “Been workin’ too hard.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrayed you. The way his hands rested on your shoulders—rough yet tender—sent shivers down your spine. He started massaging the knots in your shoulders, his fingers kneading the tension from your overworked muscles. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this—missed him—until now.

“You need a break, darlin’,” Logan muttered, his voice low and rough, sending a familiar heat through your body. “Can’t have you burnin’ out on me.”

You chuckled, but the sound was weak. “I’ll take a break soon, I promise.”

Logan let out a soft grunt, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. But instead of arguing, he pulled back, leaving a small note on the corner of your desk before disappearing from the room. You picked it up, your heart softening at the sight of his messy handwriting: Missin’ you. Don’t forget to take a break.

For a moment, you considered following him. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. But you had deadlines to meet, work piling up faster than you could keep up with. You’d make it up to him later—at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The next few days were more of the same. Logan was always around, but never directly demanding your attention. He’d leave notes scattered around your workspace—short, sweet messages like Thinkin’ ‘bout you or We’re overdue for some time together. He brought you food, sometimes your favorite meal, other times just a snack to keep you going. He’d make excuses to touch you, his hands lingering on your back or brushing against your arm as he walked by.

But you noticed the shift. His touches were growing more possessive, more intense, as if he was trying to remind you that he was still here, waiting for you to give him the attention he so desperately needed.

One evening, you returned home from a long day at work, exhausted and drained. You dropped your bag by the door and collapsed on the couch, barely managing to kick off your shoes. Within seconds, Logan was beside you, pulling you into his lap without a word.

“Logan, I’m—”

“Shh.” His arms wrapped around you, and you could feel the weight of his need in the way he held you, so tight you thought he might never let go. “You’re always busy, darlin’. Let me take care of you.”

The frustration in his voice was clear, but so was the affection. He wasn’t angry—he was hurt. Hurt that you hadn’t been giving him the time he needed. You felt a pang of guilt as you melted into his embrace, feeling the heat of his body against yours.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your head resting against his chest. His heart thudded steadily beneath your ear, a comforting sound that you hadn’t realized you’d missed. “I’ve been so caught up in work, I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop apologizin’,” Logan interrupted, his voice softer than before. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. “Just... don’t do it again, alright? I miss you.”

You nodded, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. Logan wasn’t the type to openly express his emotions, but the way he held you now—tight, protective, needy—said more than words ever could.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. “I’ve been patient,” he muttered, his voice rumbling through his chest. “But I need you. Not just here, but with me. You get what I’m sayin’?”

“I do,” you replied softly, shifting to look up at him. His eyes met yours, and you could see the raw emotion swirling in them—jealousy, frustration, but above all, love. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.”

Logan grunted, but this time there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I can forgive you, but only ‘cause I know how hard you’ve been workin’. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

You laughed, feeling the tension in your chest ease. “I’ll try not to.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that made your heart race. You could feel the heat of his need, the way he poured every bit of his pent-up affection into the kiss. It was almost overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “I’m not gonna stop remindin’ you I’m here,” he said, his voice low and rough. “You’re mine, darlin’. Don’t forget that.”

You smiled, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “I won’t forget.”

For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to relax completely in his arms, savoring the warmth of his touch and the strength of his embrace. Logan wasn’t one to be needy often, but when he was, it only made you fall harder for him.

And maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what you needed too.

[blacktabbygames]

The Steam Summer Sale is finally upon us, and BOTH Scarlet Hollow and Slay the Princess are 25% off! Buy 'em together in our lil' bundle and get AN EXTRA discount for a combined THIRTY SIX percent off! That's more than fifteen bucks of cold hard savings. This is also probably the only 25% off discount Slay the Princess is getting this year! We wanted to do something special for the Summer Sale, but it's back down to 20% after this so we don't the hard workin' folks at Serenity Forge who are publishing the console version. (And because it won't be long until the game is THIRTY FIVE PERCENT bigger) So even if you're waiting to play until the free expansion drops this Fall, if you're a PC Gaming-head, you'll be better off picking it up now for the extra savings and just waiting to play. Anyways this has been an amazing week. All of YOU have been amazing. Play both of our games. Especially if you already really like one. You'll probably really like the other too!

[foreingersgod]

I LOVE THE FICS LATELY AND ALL THE TIME !!

one of them being the cc being obsessed with her gf , now i wanna see a kate martin being obsessed with her gf !!!

Always take rests !!!!

Work Song . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

A/N: i’m not sure if anon wanted soft, tooth rotting obsession, but i yearn for sweetie pie kate so i hope it’s ok :’)

Boys workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burnin' heat?

kate was exhausted to say the least. practices, games…everything was really weighing down on her. she had so much on her plate all the time and it often got to be too much for her to handle. there was a lot of stress on her recently, being drafted and being the new girl on the team. she bared the overwhelming feeling of having to impress everyone, prove that she could handle it. and deep down she knew she could. kate was strong and smart and resilient, but her biggest fear was letting people down. letting you down.

that’s why, during times like this, she turned to you. her biggest supporter, her number one fan, her everything. you had been with her since the beginning. you were there for every meltdown and all the late nights spent in tears when kate felt like a failure. you were there for every loss and every win, there to clean up her nasty bruises and cuts. and now you were here to guide her through this huge change in her life. she wouldn’t be able to count on her fingers the amount of times you had truly saved her in the midst of all this. kate struggled with change, hated how she felt like she needed to start over with a whole new team and a whole new life. but you were there to remind her that nothing was going to change, you would still be with her every step of the way. all she needed was you, the most important thing in her life.

you were the reason she got up in the morning. you were the reason she kept pushing even when she felt like giving up. because she knew that at the end of the day, you’d be there with her, arms holding her tight to ground her. that you’d never leave her and, for that, she wanted to make you proud.

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love, I could barely eat

she was gone for the week, in another state for an away game. but a week was 7 days too long for kate, she couldn’t stand being away from you. she remembers the night before she left, how she was packing her things unwillingly as you made sure she had everything in her bag. you were trying so hard to get her excited, it was going to be one of her first games upon her pro-ball debut and you had assumed she’d be ecstatic. but instead she was sulking (typical kate), talking about how much she was going to miss you.

“i can’t believe you’re about to go live out your life long dream and you’re sitting here pouting” you teased. she knew you were right, and she really was quite excited, but the thought that you wouldn’t be there killed her.

normally you would attend like you always did, but you needed to take the week to focus on finishing up school. kate admired the way you prioritized your studies, but there were times like these in which she cursed your determination. all she wanted was to see you out there, amongst the crowd, cheering her on. a big ‘20’ plastered on your shirt to show your support and a gratifying smile on your face. you were her lucky charm, she would say. but now she here, far from home and missing her girl.

it was the night before the game and kate and the team had opted for a nice dinner out. something to hype everyone up and to boost morale…well that’s what she was told. but it did little to cheer her up and get her excited. she dreaded leaving her lonely hotel room, somewhat dim and weary without you there with her. it had been a long time since she stayed in a room without you. kate had to fight her own mind to attend dinner with the girls, just wanting to stay in and facetime you instead. nevertheless, she managed to get dressed up and make an appearance.

the entire night she was miserable, as expected. she wanted to join in on the conversations, talk about what her teammates were talking about. but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for herself. she was still jet lagged, tired, nervous, and definitely missing you. she couldn’t even eat her food because she couldn’t focus on anything else but the image of you. memories of your relationship flooded her mind as she messed with the food on her plate, all she wanted was to go back home.

not able to stand it anymore, she made some excuse about being sick so she could leave. she packed up the leftovers to bring back to her hotel room and bid everyone a good night. her time would be much better spent texting or calling you than feeling sorry for herself at the table.

finally, she made it back to her room. without a second thought she was changing her clothes and crawling into bed, pulling out her phone and pulling up your contact. she had no hesitation in clicking on the ‘facetime’ button.

the phone rang several times, making her worried that you had already gone to bed for the night. but, on the 4th ring, the call went through and your face appeared on the screen. it was a gorgeous sight, she thought, seeing you there. you had taken off your makeup already, pulled your hair back, and tucked yourself into your shared bed. oh how she longed to be in that bed right now. you had instantly smiled when you saw kate’s face, making her heart ache for you.

“hi baby!” you chimed.

and that’s all she needed to hear. all of her worries, doubts, all of her anxiety was out the window now. she had just wanted an ounce of your attention all day, and at last, she could relax finally having it.

There's nothin' sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

“what did you say?” kate whispered, so shocked that she could hardly speak.

tonight was not a usual one. you had come home upset and stressed out, the past few days you’d been struggling with your mental health. it wasn’t often that you had difficult days, but when you did, kate was at your side and ready to help you in whatever way you needed. but tonight you felt inconsolable.

with kate becoming more popular in the media with her upcoming career, there had been a lot of press coverage. you actually hadn’t had an issue with it, you were thrilled for her to see that she was getting so much attention. but with the praise and positivity online also came the negative parts as well. you had seen a few articles and instagram posts concerning yours and kate’s relationship. seeing your name in bold headlines caught your attention. it was a bunch of nonsense, really, some random person online blabbering about nothing. they were clearly bothered by the fact that you and kate were very much in love, writing about how ‘kate could find someone much better’ or how she ‘should be with someone in her own league’. you tried to remind yourself of how foolish that was, kate loved you deeply and wouldn’t ever think of leaving you for someone else. but, with your history of self image issues and mental health, it was hard to believe it yourself.

“i said,” you were both sat on the couch, thighs barely touching. tears streamed down your face as you had your head turned away from kate. you had seen another one of those damned articles earlier and it seemed to be your breaking point, sending you into a fit of sorrow “i said i don’t know why you’re still with me”

the statement had caught her quite off guard. how could you possibly think such a thing? had kate done something? were you suddenly falling out of love? her heart was shattering as she sat there, desperately trying to figure out what had gotten you upset.

“baby,” her hand found its way to your cheek, gently guiding your head to turn back to her. your eyes were red and your lashes damp as you locked eyes with her “how could you say that? i love you more than anything in the world-i don’t understand”

“i just…i’ve been seeing all of those posts about us, kate” sobs racked your body and you hiccuped to try and catch your breathe “i see all the things they say about us and i can’t help but feel like you deserve more than me”

she had known about those posts for some time now, since she saw you inspecting one the other day. it broke her knowing you were indulging in all the ridiculous things people were saying about your relationship.

“hey hey hey” she wrapped an arm around you, forcing you to move closer to her “i don’t want anyone but you, got it? you have no idea how fucking in love with you i am”

a scoff fell from your lips briefly before you shook your head. you wanted to believe her, but your mind was so convinced otherwise “you’re just saying that”

“well allow me to enlighten you then?” she prodded, wiping the tears from under yours eyes. with reluctance, you nodded.

“i have never loved someone so much in my life” she began “i don’t even know where to start because there’s so much i love about you that it would take forever to say it all. i love the way you love me. how you take care of me all the time without me having to ask. how you make me breakfast in bed and how you brush my hair before we fall asleep. i love how you send me pictures of cute things you see in the store when you should really only be getting groceries. i love that you cry during movies even if it’s supposed to be happy because it shows how deeply you love things. and i love that you always think of people, even though that sometimes means you forget to take care of yourself. but i love that too, i love that i get to be the person that shows you how much love you deserve. that i get to sit here on nights like these and tell you how wonderful you are. because it’s true. honey, you are the best thing that has every happened to me and i’d be fucking crazy to let you go”

she let out a deep sigh, having lost her breath from her confession. if she had anymore air in her, she’d still be rambling on and on. the two of you stared at each other for a faint moment, her blue eyes gleaming back at you. your bottom lip quivered as another tear rolled down your cheek, although this time, it was a cry of joy.

“kate martin,” you muttered, almost speechless “i love you so so much”

she just chuckled softly and smiled at you. she guided you into a much needed hug, feeling your head tuck itself underneath her chin and your arms fall over her shoulders.

“i love you a thousand times more”

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me

it was dark outside already, signifying the late hours of the night. you weren’t sure what time it was, definitely late enough that you should be asleep. but instead you and kate were both still up.

the orangey glow from your bedside lamp illuminated your bodies, creating silhouettes on the bedroom wall. kate was laid against the bed, back against the headboard and head tilted back. you were hovering over her as you straddled her waist with legs on either side of her figure. your head dipped down to her exposed neck, lips connecting lazily to her supple skin. eager hands roamed her shoulders and down the sides of her torso. her hands did the same, anxious to touch you wherever she could.

this was another instance in which kate unfortunately had to be away from home for an extended period of time. like every other time, she thought about returning home to you every second that she was gone. she hated not being able to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were right by her side. you had also been yearning for her arrival and hated her absence just as much. so when she was on her way home, she knew she would be having her way with you that night, no matter how late it might be. it may have been well into the early hours of this morning at this point, but the need to be with each other was a far greater need than sleep.

when she stepped foot in that house, she was already dropping her bags at the door and ridding of her shoes. sock clad feet marched quietly up the stairs as she began imagining kissing you for the first time in over a week. she pushed the door to your room open ever so gently, taking in your inviting presence. you had been fighting sleep, she could tell. your eyes peeking through low eyelids, hair messy from laying against the pillows, your lips turned in a sloppy smile. what a sight for sore eyes.

she was tempted to tell you to go to sleep, to get some rest that she knew you needed. but you were already sitting up and crawling over to her side of the bed where she now stood. one of her oversized tshirts hung loosely on your body, your lacey panties emerging from the bottom. before she had the chance to do so much as greet you, your hands were gripping her shirt and tugging her into you. soft lips molded into hers as you frantically kissed her. she took it as a sign that you needed her just as much as she needed you. so she let herself indulge, slithering into bed with you. articles of clothing were discarded to floor. your shirt thrown over your shoulder, kate’s sweatpants and top banished to a pile next to the bed.

now you were here, idly making out, taking each other in as much as possible. one might think you hadn’t seen one another in years by the way you both were acting. your bare chests were pressed together, creating arousing friction. kate’s fingers dug into the soft skin of your ass where her fingernails left small indents. she was breathing heavily and groaning as you left dark purple marks along her collarbone and the tops of her breasts, a reminder of your devotion. her hands pressed deeper into you, guiding your hips in a smooth rhythm of grinding against her lap. the room felt hot from the breathy moans and content sighs.

once you decided you were done marking the skin of kate’s chest, you made your way back to her lips. both of you were too tired to do anything other than this, just needing to be close to each other. not that you needed much else, having her lips on yours was enough to keep you satisfied. it was like your lips were meant for hers. they fit so perfectly together, moved against yours in the most delicious way.

kate let out another moan as she felt your lips grace hers. the sensation sent shivers through her veins. kissing you had to be the best feeling in the world to her. sometimes she felt sorry for the rest of the world, because what a sad life it would be to not know what it would be like to kiss you. and at the same time she felt so damn lucky that it was her, and only her, that got to know what this felt like.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down…

“i hope you know that i’m absolutely head over heels for you,” she said next to you “you do know that, right?”

you hummed in response, nose scrunching as you looked at her. the amount of guests at your wedding must have been well into the one hundreds, but right here in this moment, it was just the two of you.

underneath a sky full stars was the makeshift dance floor of your wedding venue, marbled tiles beneath your feet. twinkling lights lit up the quaint garden of your backyard that you and kate both decided would be the perfect place to hold your reception. it was the middle of your first dance as a married couple and it was the most perfect moment of your life. your dress swayed behind you in the breeze, hair cascading around your face elegantly. kate looked even more beautiful than she normally did, if that was even possible. both of her hands rested on your waist and your arms looped around her neck as you danced across the floor slowly. your wedding playlist sounded in the distance and your families were watching you with teary eyes, but you and kate were only focused on each other.

“i do,” you replied “i hope you know that i’m also madly in love with you”

“i do” she had repeated like she did during her declaration of intent at the ceremony. you would never forget the look on her face when she’d said it for the first time “i’m never going to get tired of this”

“of what? our first dance?” you laughed, head falling back briefly “hate to break it to you, babe, but i think it’s gonna have to end at some point”

she laughed too, shaking her head. she pulled you in closer as her eyes wandered over the features of your face.

“no” she grinned “of looking at you”

your face was already turning a bright shade of pink, you could feel it as you smiled, but you didn’t mind one bit. you let your arms fall from around her neck as you heard the song of your dance come to an end.

your hands traveled up to take her face in your hands, something you have done often, a small action of your love. they directed her face to drop down to your level. you got onto the tips of your toes to meet her half way, kissing her passionately like your life depended on it. both of you smiled into the kiss, hearing everyone around you cheer as your dance concluded.

and, god, did it feel good to be loved like this.

…I'll crawl home to her

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: i feel like this started out so good, but then i kinda fucked it up at the end, but i hope you all like it !!

[atomicami]

quick fix

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: in which joel and jerry have a constant rivalry with their contracting businesses. as a result, you’ve had to abide by your dad’s rule to stay away from jerry’s daughter, abby. you follow along at first, but when your TV stops working on the day you’re hosting a movie night, you might have to break that rule.

- content: smut MDNI, porn with plot, no outbreak/modern au, texas living, no sarah, joel & jerry are both alive (he’s not a doctor in this), contractor/engineer!abby (women in stem 🔛🔝), reader has a business degree, family and work drama, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, kinda softdom!abby, reader and abby almost getting caught, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: i’ve been wanting to do an abby fic with this specific pairing for a while now so i hope y’all like it! if this one goes well i might make a second part to it.

Your father was never the competitive type when it came to his job. Joel’s been known to be a humble person while still taking pride in his hard work. In all fairness, he did spend so many years of his life forming one of the biggest contracting companies in Texas alongside with his brother, and ever since you were a kid, you’ve wanted to take part in it as well. Business was running perfectly for your dad, he felt like everything was going according to plan every single day.

That is…until about four years ago, when a contractor from Washington moves into your neighborhood with his daughter with the intention of expanding his company to a second state. Joel didn’t think of anything at first when this happened. Texas is known to be one of the best states for business, he completely understood the other man’s intentions to come reside over here.

However, things started to go downhill a couple of weeks after the father-daughter pair moved in. You were at work with your dad doing customer calls for him. Things were going good so far until the phone began to ring from your end. You reach over to your desk and pick up the phone, holding it up to your ear.

“Miller Contracting, how can I help you?” You greeted into the phone. “You’d like to speak with Joel?“ Your dad was in the same room as you, working on some blueprints, lifting his head up towards your direction once he had heard his name. You had done the same, motioning for him to come over. “Yeah…Yeah I can put him on with you.” He was now by your side by the time you finished that sentence, taking the phone from your hands and answering it. “Miller Contracting, this is Joel.” he addressed into the phone, turning around so he’s slightly leaning back onto the edge of the desk.

“Mr. Jones! I was just workin’ on the blueprints for the project you wanted—wait, what?”

You remained seated at your desk next to your dad as the conversation kept going, seeing his expression change completely over what the client was telling him. You were even able to hear what the client had said through the receiver of the phone:

“I’m sorry Joel, but we’ve decided to go with Anderson Contracting to work on the project for us…We’ve heard so many good things about Jerry’s work in Seattle, and we really want what’s best for—“

Your dad didn’t even let the man finish his sentence as he immediately hung up the phone. You could tell that he was already fuming after finding out what had just happened. He was totally fine with Jerry settling here with his company, as long as he’d find his own fucking clients to work with instead of stealing his. Joel knew at that moment that in order to prevent himself from losing any more clients, he needed to take action. Ever since that day, he’s had a four year long rivalry with the other contractor, both of them making the attempts to see who can not only get the most clients, but also the best ones to work with.

Fast forward to today, and you’ve graduated from college this year with a degree in business administration, now dedicating yourself full time in helping out with your father’s contracting company. And as you’d expect, Jerry Anderson, the man your dad refers to as his competition remains living across the street from you with his daughter Abigail, who also stuck with the same plan as you after graduating college in terms of helping out her dad with his company as well. But given the bad blood that your dads have with each other, you two had to abide by their rule to not be anywhere near each other.

“Listen to me sweetheart, you stay away from Anderson’s kid, alright? Her daddy can take away as many clients as he wants, but I sure as hell ain’t letting his daughter take you away from me.”

“Abby, I don’t care who you end up with, as long as it’s not with Joel Miller’s daughter. Can you promise me that?”

And so you both did. For four years and counting, you and Abby have made the efforts to stay as far away from each other despite how difficult it may have been for you both.

However, you might have to be the one to break that streak when your living room TV stops working.

“So you’re sayin’ that it just won’t turn on?” Your dad asked you through the phone.

“Yeah…I don’t know what’s wrong with it.” You replied, pressing the on button of the TV remote again. You could see the little red light flashing on the remote, but the TV still wouldn’t budge.

“Did ya try flippin’ the breaker outside?”

“No…everything else in the house is working except the TV…I think something’s just wrong with the outlet that’s it’s plugged into. Do you think you can try to come by for a moment and fix it?”

You heard your dad let out a sigh through the phone. You already knew what he was going to say next.

“M’sorry sweetie, but I’ve been so caught up at work today…been trying to perfect a project for this client lately. N’ I don’t want Anderson to try n’ steal this one from me. I’ll try n’ see if I can stop by real quick durin’ my break, alright?”

“Yeah, I get it…I’ll just…try and wait til you get home. Love you dad.”

You sighed as you hung up the phone, completely helpless. It could’ve been any other day where the TV stops working and you wouldn’t really care about it. But today you were hosting a movie night with your girlfriends. You took the day off from work ahead of time to prepare and had already spent the past hour making a large charcuterie board that was currently taking up space in the fridge. You had been planning this movie night for weeks with your friend group only for it to possibly get canceled.

All because the stupid TV wasn’t working.

You looked back down at your phone, opening the group chat with your friend group to break the news to them. As your fingers hovered over the keyboard, an idea came upon your midst. You turned around to look through the window, eyeing the cream colored house that stood across from yours.

Now, at this very moment you have two options:

You could tell your friends that movie night will be postponed, and wait for your dad to come back from work to fix the TV outlet.

Or…

You could make the attempt to cross the street and ask Abigail Anderson, the girl you’ve been keeping yourself away from for over four years per your dad’s request, to come by and fix the outlet for you.

For some reason, part of you was leaning towards the second option. Except you really didn’t want to break your dad’s promise.

But then again…Abby does have a lot of experience with the actual hands on work in contracting. After all, she did graduate at the top of the class just like you, except with a degree in civil engineering instead. Not to mention she has her contractor’s license just like her dad and yours. Fixing an electrical outlet should be a piece of cake for her.

You hesitate for a moment, pacing around your living room as you try and gather the courage to leave the house and cross the street. This task shouldn’t take long…it’s just a quick fix, right?

Walking over to the front door, you take a deep breath and step outside, making sure to lock your door in case anything happens before crossing the street. Once you approach the driveway of her house, you see the two Ford pickup trucks parked outside. This meant that both Abby and her father were home right now.

You make it to the front door of Abby’s house, and hesitate once again before ringing the bell. You pray silently to yourself that it’ll be her answering the door, and not her dad. Once the door opens, you look up to your prayers being answered as she stands right in front of you, her eyes widening in shock once she sees you.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” she exclaims, trying to keep her own voice down to not get her father’s attention.

“Look, I know we’re supposed to be away from each other, But I really need your help.” You let out a sigh before continuing your explanation. “The outlet in my TV isn’t working, and I need it to be ready for a movie night that I’m hosting this evening… but my dad’s been too busy at work to stop by and fix it…could you please fix it for me?”

Abby shook her head in response. “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you right now, let alone be inside your house. Can’t you just call an electrician or something?”

Damn, why didn’t you think of that as an option? Could it be because you wanted Abby to be the one fixing the outlet for you instead of some random guy? Probably….

You shook your head, trying to come up with an excuse on the spot. “These electricians take forever to arrive, and my friends will be here any minute now. Please…? It should just be a quick fix….”

Abby opened her mouth to say something before she was interrupted by the sound of her father calling her from inside.

“Abby! Who’s at the door?”

“Shit…” she muttered, quickly looking over her shoulder before back at you. “Okay, I’ll do it…just stay there for a moment.” She briefly closed the door before soon returning after a couple minutes, now with her tool belt wrapped around her cargo pants. “I had to tell him it was Manny…you know that my dad doesn’t want me to be seen with you.” she said in a slightly stern tone as both of you began to cross the street to your house. Once the two of you arrive at your place, you look both ways, making sure no one else was seeing you two together before unlocking the door and stepping inside, Abby soon following after and closing the door behind her.

“The outlet’s over here…” You walk over to where the TV was, and push the display table away from the wall, revealing the hidden outlet that needed fixing. Abby stepped past you to get to the broken outlet and got down on one knee, already getting to work as she began to unscrew the plate. “This shouldn’t take me more than ten minutes. I’ll let you know when I’m finished.” You nod in response, heading over to the kitchen to set the table for when your friends arrive.

Those ten minutes fly by like thirty seconds, and you can already hear the sound of the TV playing from the kitchen. You enter the living room to see Abby flipping through the channels on the TV, making sure that everything’s working perfectly before handing you the remote.

“Thank you so much, Abby…” You turn the TV off and set the remote on the display table next to you before looking back at her. “I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem…” There’s now a brief moment of silence between you two. You notice her looking out the window and eyeing at her house. “I should uh, get going now…” She tells you this, but she doesn’t move. For some reason…Abby didn’t want to leave just yet. And you didn’t want her to either.

Noticing this, you start to feel a sense of boldness spike through and take a step towards her direction. “Do you think that…you could stay just a little longer?” Abby then turns her head and looks down to face you, noticing that you were just inches away from her now. The two of you realize that this is the longest amount of time you’ve spent together, and this is the closest you two are to each other right now. Who knows when this could happen again…Might as well take advantage of the time, right?

Abby doesn’t even respond to your question. Instead she takes the risk and leans into you, enclosing your lips with hers into a kiss. You can’t help but kiss her back and grab at the collar of her open muscle tank, pulling her closer to you. By instinct, Abby brings her hands down to the back of your thighs and signals you to jump. Once you do, she gets a grip on each of your legs as you wrap them around her waist. Abby brings you over to the couch and slowly sets you down before parting her lips away from yours and bringing her head down to kiss at your neck, causing you to whimper at her touch.

“Look at you…I’m barely even touching you and you’re already so desperate for me…” she murmurs in between kisses. “I wonder what your dad would think…knowing that his precious daughter is with me right now…”

Abby was right about that. What would your dad think of you right now? You promised him that you’d stay away from the daughter of the man that was competing with him and his business. And now she’s in your house, in your living room, planting kisses all over your body and marking you as hers.

All because you couldn’t wait for the TV to get fixed.

But was it really because you couldn’t wait for the TV to get fixed? Or because you couldn’t wait for Abby to fix the arousal that was starting to form in between your legs?

You snap yourself out of your thoughts once you feel Abby’s hands trailing down your body and stopping once they reach the hem of your shirt. She grabs onto it and pulls herself away to take it off of you, tossing it to the side once it’s off of your head. You reach over and do the same with her open muscle tank and remove it off of her before she goes back in to kiss at your exposed chest. But then…she stops. Why was she stopping?

You give her a confused expression as she pulls away to look at you, her blue eyes piercing through yours. “Listen…I’d be lying right now if I said I didn’t want to be doing this. I’ve been wanting you ever since I first saw you from across the street.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “But I need you to tell me, right now…Tell me you want this, and if you don’t, I promise I’ll leave and won’t come near you again.”

You were shocked over what Abby had just admitted to you. But then again, you understood why she would tell you this. This is by far the closest and most intimate you’ve ever been with her, and she didn’t want to go overboard or past your boundaries. She needed the green light. She was seeking the reassurance from you. She wanted to know if you were okay with this, because you both were about to break the rules, and there’s no turning back once it’s done.

But little did she know that you’ve been wanting the same thing. You’ve been wanting Abby in the same way she’s been wanting you. Hell, you’ve even touched yourself at night before with her on your mind. But she doesn’t need to know that. Instead, you just shake your head and grab onto her broad shoulders, pulling her in towards you for another kiss. “I want this, Abby, please…you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen.”

And before you know it, she’s stripped you from the rest of your clothes until you were just in your underwear. Abby was completely taken aback by the sight of you right now. “God…you’re so beautiful…” She mutters out as she begins to kneel down in front of you. “It should be a crime to keep this away from me.”

All you could do at this point was whine in response. The ache that was growing in between your legs was making it so difficult for you to even comprehend what Abby was saying to you right now. You desperately needed her to alleviate that feeling.

“Abby…p-please…need you so bad…”

You heard the blonde let out a chuckle in response. “I know baby, I know…Let’s see what I’m working with, yeah?” She then reaches up to your waist and grabs at the band of your underwear removing it off of you in one pull before spreading your legs open, revealing your pussy to her. The view that was in front of her right now was a sight for sore eyes. You were completely soaked for her, she could easily see the wetness gushing out of your pussy and trailing itself down to the leather of the couch. You tried to hold back a moan as you felt Abby’s fingers gently press against your folds and slowly spread them open to get a better look.

“Fuck, you’re so wet…is this really all for me?” She asks in surprise, looking up at you. You nodded in response. “It’s all for you Abs, please….need you to fix this…”

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll fix it for you.” she murmurs in response as she begins to scatter more kisses on your inner thighs, slowly inching her face closer to your heat. “I’ll make it all better for you, yeah?” And with that she begins to insert one of her fingers into your tight pussy, causing another whimper to escape from your mouth. You were so wet for her that she was easily able to slide her finger into you without struggling. It didn’t take long for her to slide a second finger in. “Atta girl…you’re taking my fingers so well…I wish I could’ve fixed this a lot sooner.” Abby then leans in and wraps her lips around your throbbing clit, not stopping the movements of her fingers.

You grab onto the armrest once you feel the sensation of her mouth on your clit. Her fingers were curling themselves into your cunt so hard that it’s practically causing friction in your g spot. Feeling heavy in your head, you slowly bring it down to see the sight of her beneath you. You spread your legs out a little more to give Abby some room, with your right leg hooking itself over the armrest of the couch. She’s been so fixated on eating out your cunt that the movement slightly startles her a bit. With her mouth still sucking onto your clit she looks up at you once again and you could’ve sworn that her fucking pupils just dilated. Abby was getting completely drunk on your pussy, and you were getting drunk from the overstimulation she was giving you.

You feel Abby’s mouth briefly remove itself from your clit, quickly replacing it with her thumb to keep you stimulated. She then brought herself up to tend to one of your tits, gently kissing and biting onto it as she continued to finger your cunt senselessly. It came to the point where the all of contact that Abby was giving you right now was slowly starting to consume you. Your pussy began to clench and contract around Abby’s thick fingers, indicating that you were starting to get close. She immediately noticed and took her mouth off of your breast, and went back down to your needy cunt to finish you off.

“Abby…” you moan out to her, your voice getting tense. “I-I’m getting close.”

“I know you are, angel. I’m gonna help you get there, yeah?” She tells you reassuringly as she presses her free hand onto your lower stomach. “Just ride my fingers out for me, baby, just like that.”

Abby then brings her mouth back to your swollen clit as she speeds the pace of her fingers. You follow her instructions and grind your hips against them, desperately trying to approach your climax.

However, you start to get an unusual feeling deep in the pit of your stomach as you began to get closer. The pressure was more intense than what you’re used to, for some reason it didn’t feel right. You felt like your body was on fire.

This led you to tell Abby to stop right at the last minute. “W-Wait, Abby, stop I— Fuck!”

But it was too late. Your body already did its deed before the words could get through your mouth. Your cunt pulsed hard against her fingers before going completely overboard on its climax. You throw your head back in pleasure and shut your eyes, whines and whimpers escaping your mouth as you cum all over Abby’s mouth and fingers. Her fingers soon start slowing it’s pace right after. She then removes her mouth and fingers from your pussy, gently stroking your trembling thighs as you slowly recover from your climax.

“Fuck, Abby…that was—“ You slowly tilt your head back down and open your eyes, only to be shocked by the sight of the blonde in front of you, completely drenched in your release. “Oh my God…Did I just…”

She nodded in response, wiping the bottom of her chin with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I think you did…”

You start to feel your face heat up in embarrassment and completely avert your gaze from her. “I’m so sorry Abs…I-I didn’t even know I could do that…” She only shook her head in response. leaning in to give you a another kiss, which allowed you to taste a bit of yourself on her lips. “Don’t you dare apologize. You did so good for me.” Abby then brought her gaze down to your cunt, still twitching after it’s intense orgasm. She gently ran two fingers down to pick up the rest of your release before bringing them to her mouth, sucking them clean. “This was definitely worth the wait.”

You let out a giggle in response before leaning in to give her another kiss. “You were definitely worth the wait for me.”

Abby smiled back at you, before noticing something at the corner of her eye. She looked out through the window, her eyes widening in shock at what came across her vision.

“Oh shit…Isn’t that Joel’s truck?”

You quickly turned your head around to see your dad’s truck passing through the roundabout of the neighborhood. It looks like he was able to stop by from work after all. “Oh my God, I completely forgot I told him about the outlet.” You look over to Abby and began to pick up your discarded clothes from the ground. “You need to go, now before my dad sees you.”

The two of you scramble around the living room for each other’s clothes, quickly dressing yourselves again. You then sprint over to the kitchen to get a rag before coming back to the living room to wipe what was left of your release off of the couch. Once you do, you look up to see your dad’s truck now parked in the driveway. Thank God he was still sitting there and on his phone, probably talking a client out of doing business with Abby’s dad. You then look over to her, now fully dressed. “Come with me, I’ll take you out through the back.” You grab her hand and bring her outside to the backyard, opening the back fence for her. “Just go out through the left and cross the street, that way it won’t look suspicious.” She nodded in response, quickly turning back to briefly kiss you on the lips before heading out. This gave you the feeling that it wasn’t going to be the last time that this would happen.

But for now you felt a wave of relief wash through you. As Abby began to head back home you closed the fence and went back inside, only to hear the sound of the front door opening and your dad’s footsteps entering the house.

“Hey kiddo, m’home!” You heard him call out. “Was able to stop by real quick from work to check on the TV. Is it still not workin’?”

Well, Abby might be out of your hands, but now you’ve encountered a new dilemma: trying to explain to your dad how the TV got fixed.

author’s note: i pray that this doesn’t flop 🙏🏻

part 2 here

requested tags 🏷️: @aouiaa @whorn3y @pretty-prrincess-13 @elliewilliamskissr

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[pedrospatch]

family

Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x Reader

summary: You and Joel have some news to share with Sarah.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) pregnancy, small age gap (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 35). fluff, fluff, fluff, Joel and Sarah being the most adorable father daughter duo.

word count: 3.3k

a/n:this is my response to this request right here; a huge thank you to whoever sent this one in!

You let out a small, tired sigh and wiped the back of your hand across your forehead. The early afternoon lunch rush at Moe’s Diner had just ended and you were exhausted beyond belief. Moe’s was one of the more popular locally owned joints in Austin, Texas, and while having a lot of customers coming into the establishment meant earning heftier tips and of course, a bigger paycheck, there was a small part of you that couldn’t help but wish that you could have at least one slow day, just one single day of the week where you weren’t waiting about a dozen tables all at once.

The moment you dropped the last stack of used plates into the plastic gray bin for Hugo, the dishwasher, to come and collect, you washed your hands thoroughly with soap and warm water and then made your way over to the old, electronic cash register behind the main counter to punch in the tips you’d earned after the rush; an hour’s worth of working and you had already made about a hundred bucks to take home at the end of your shift. As you finished logging your earnings, you could feel a pair of eyes watching you from a distance. You didn’t even need to look up to see that it was Joel. He had made something of a habit of coming to join you on his lunch hour. He’d been working longer and longer days lately, and if his only chance to spend time with you was during his lunch break, then that is exactly what he was going to do.

You tossed your receipt into the register and closed it up, turning to your coworker, Melinda. “Alright. All the tables have been cashed out, cleared, and wiped down,” You informed her, sticking your own copy of the receipt for your tips into the crisp, white apron of your uniform. “Mind if I go and take a break now?”

“Go right ahead. Don’t want to keep lover boy over there waiting for too long,” Melinda responded with a teasing wink.

“Oh, shut up,” You snipped at her, although the smile was evident in your tone of voice. You turned around and quickly poured two cups of coffee, a regular for Joel and a decaffeinated roast for yourself. Last week during your doctor’s appointment, your obstetrician reassured you that it would be a while before you really had to start easing up on the amount of caffeine you put into your body, but you figured it wouldn’t hurt to start weaning yourself off of it while you were still in the earlier stages of pregnancy. Better to deal with the withdrawals sooner rather than later. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes to help you with the next rush,” You told Melinda over your shoulder. You took the two cups in your hands and walked over towards one of the booths in the far corner of the fifties themed restaurant where Joel had chosen to sit today. You set his cup of coffee down in front of him and kissed his cheek lightly before sliding into the booth across from him. “I am so sorry to have kept you waiting. Two for one lunch special brought in a lot more people than Moe had anticipated.” You rolled your eyes, gently shaking your head. “He understaffed us. Again.”

Joel frowned as he noted, “I can tell. You look exhausted.”

“Which is basically code for, you look like shit, isn’t it?” You asked him teasingly.

“S’not what I meant and you know it,” he replied, rolling his eyes at you as he took a careful sip of his coffee. “You shouldn’t be workin’ so damn hard, y’know. S’not good for you to strain yourself, not in your condition.”

“In my condition,” You mimicked him with an amused little chuckle. It earned you a stern glare. “Oh come on, Joel. I’m only about six weeks along.” You shrugged your shoulders and then leaned back into the seat of the booth. “Come back to me with that bullshit when I’m in my third trimester and waddling around this place.”

Joel snorted. “Well, I’m hopin’ that by that time, you won’t be workin’ at all.”

Your playful smile faded slightly from your face. “What are you talking about?” You asked, crossing your arms stubbornly over your chest. It baffled you that he would even suggest such a thing. “We have a baby on the way. That means that I have to work, Joel. I have to work for as long as I possibly can before it comes. And then after a couple months of maternity leave, I’m going to have to come back and work some more.”

“Wait a minute, what about school?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow at you. “How exactly do you plan to juggle studyin’ while workin’ and bein’ a mom too?”

Stumped on how to answer him without upsetting him, you remained quiet and chewed nervously on your bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong. You hadn’t exactly told him yet, but the reality was that you knew it would be tough to handle all three and there was a pretty good chance that your teaching degree would have to be put on the back burner for an indefinite amount of time.

“You’re not givin’ up on that degree,” Joel asserted, as if he had read your thoughts. “No way in hell, I won’t let you. You only have one year left,” he reminded you firmly. “Look, business has been boomin’ on my end of things. If it stays that way, I can get you out of this place. Let you focus on bein’ a mom and gettin’ your teachin’ credential.”

You bit back a sigh. “Joel, it’s a bit too early to even be talking about all of this, don’t you think?” You said after a moment, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the conversation. “There’s no need to worry about that stuff yet.” Noticing the exasperated expression on his face, you outstretched your arm across the able and held out your hand. “I’m serious, Joel. I don’t want you to worry about it, not right now.”

He smiled warily as he took your hand in his. He leaned over and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “Look, I know it’s early,” he acknowledged. “But I’m just plannin’ ahead.” He paused long enough to press another kiss onto your hand. “I just wanna take care of you, darlin’. That’s all.”

“I know you do,” You replied softly, squeezing his hand. You could see Melinda over behind the counter tapping the invisible watch around her wrist as if to tell you that your time was running out. “What time do you have to be back at the job site?”

Joel glanced down at his watch, but it was useless. The damn thing had stopped working once again, and yet he refused to take it to get repaired. “Probably have to start headin’ back soon, actually,” he realized, the disappointment present in his tone. He hadn’t gotten nearly as much time with you as he would have liked. “Oh, I forgot to mention. Tommy said he’s not gonna be home for dinner tonight,” he informed you. “Said he’s spendin’ the night with a buddy, but we both know what that means.”

You giggled. “Another blonde he met at the bar, huh?”

“Yeah, sounds ‘bout right.” Joel laughed and rolled his eyes. “But anyway, I was thinkin’ that tonight might be the night to finally tell Sarah, seein’ as it’ll just be the three of us. What do you think, baby?”

You squeezed his hand again. “I’m kind of nervous, Joel. About telling her.”

“Yeah, me too.” Joel wasn’t nervous for Sarah’s reaction because he’d thought she would feel negatively about the baby or about you. Rather, he knew his teenager would be horrified thinking about how this blessed miracle came to be seeing as he’d signed a permission slip for her to learn all about the birds and the bees in health class at school last semester. At thirteen, Sarah was in that one stage where anything that Joel did embarrassed her—or grossed her out.

And this would certainly gross her out.

“Jesus, here comes round two of the rush,” You muttered, watching three large parties of people walk into the diner. Reluctantly, you released Joel’s hand. “I should go and help Melinda. Besides, you really need to get back to work before you’re late.”

Both you and Joel slid out of the booth and stood up. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest in one of those tight, warm hugs that you’d grown to adore over the last couple of years. “I’ll be home on time for dinner tonight,” he promised you. “If you need anythin’ while I’m at work, you let me know, alright?”

You chuckled. “Yes, Joel.”

He let go of you and stood back, his eyes meeting yours. “I’m serious. You need anythin’ at all, you call me, alright? My phone will be in my pocket.”

“I’ll be fine, Joel,” You insisted, shaking your head as you laughed. “Now go on, get going before your boss chews you out for being late.”

“I am my boss, darlin’.” He grinned boyishly at you before pressing his lips lightly against yours, murmuring gently against them. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Ugh, this is too good.” Sarah let out a small groan of satisfaction as she took another bite of her spaghetti. She turned to you a minute later, dabbing at her mouth with her paper napkin before telling you, “Have I told you that it’s my favorite? Because it’s my favorite and I simply must give my compliments to the chef.”

You lifted your chin slightly, feeling pleased with yourself. “Thank you.”

Joel pouted, feigning offense. “Now wait a damn minute, I thought the spaghetti that I made you was your favorite?”

“Dad, you use the jarred crap,” Sarah reminded him. “Her sauce is homemade. She actually makes it from scratch, like you’re supposed to.” She pointed her fork at him. “Your spaghetti is just one step above Chef Boyardee. And that’s being generous.”

Joel picked a crouton from the salad bowl in the middle of the table and flicked it at her. “Turd.”

“Bigger turd,” she shot back at him with a tiny giggle as she picked up the crouton and popped it into her mouth.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” You chuckled, waving a hand. “Settle down you two or I’ll put you both in timeout.”

“Y’see what you do? Gettin’ us in trouble,” Joel joked before biting into a slice of garlic bread.

Sarah stuck her tongue out at him. “You started it.”

You giggled, shaking your head.

You adored the dynamic between the two, although there were times when it could be a bit much. Somehow, you seemed to bring a bit of balance to it all—you had become the calm, level headed presence if and when Sarah and Joel’s antics ever went overboard.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, of course.

Although Joel had been seeing you for about two or so years now, he hadn’t introduced you to Sarah until six months into the relationship. You hadn’t been offended by that in the slightest—you knew that he’d done his fair share of dating around before you came along, and he had made the sore mistake of introducing his young, impressionable daughter to a large number of different women who, in the end, never stuck around. Not wanting to cause any further confusion or strife for Sarah, Joel vowed never to bring another woman into his daughter’s life again, not unless he was absolutely certain it was someone who would actually stay.

That woman turned out to be you.

Joel had met you when he and his younger brother, Tommy, walked into Moe’s one afternoon for lunch. Tommy set his sights on you first, flirting up a storm, but it was Joel who you’d connected with. Joel ended up visiting the diner several times after that, going in for a cup of coffee at least every other day until he’d finally worked up the courage to ask you out on a date. That one date turned into two, two turned into three, and by date number six, you two had completely fallen for each other. Joel realized early on that you were the real deal, but nevertheless, he still chose to wait to introduce you to his then eleven year old.

When the time to meet Sarah finally came, you’d been so nervous; you were in love with Joel, but you knew that if his daughter didn’t like you, it could all come crashing down. Your first interaction with Sarah had been a little awkward, but as you got to know each other, things slowly started to shift in the right direction. The more time you’d started spending around her—with her—the closer you two became and your bond eventually flourished.

A few months later, you moved in with her, Joel, and Tommy.

“It’s going to be so nice having another girl around here,” Sarah had told you excitedly while helping you unpack a box of your things in Joel’s bedroom. “There’s way too much testosterone around here.”

The two of you had become inseparable.

Joel often liked to joke that she liked you more than she liked him.

He wasn’t totally wrong about that.

All you could do was hope that the news of the baby wouldn’t change how Sarah felt about you. You loved Joel, of course, but you’d grown to love Sarah too. They were your family.

The timer that you’d set on the oven started beeping loudly, pulling you from your train of thoughts. “Those would be the cupcakes that I made for dessert.”

“Chocolate?” Sarah asked you with shining, hopeful eyes.

“Of course. What other flavor is there?” You winked as you stood up from your chair.

She punched the air lightly. “Yes! Can I help you frost them?”

“As soon as they cool down,” You promised, touching her shoulder lightly as you walked by her and off into the kitchen.

“Tonight just keeps getting better and better,” Sarah sighed contentedly, picking up her fork.

Joel watched her for a moment in silence, a small smile on his face. “Hey,” he said after minute or two, garnering Sarah’s attention. “You really like her, don’t you, kiddo?”

“Of course! She’s got to be like, the coolest person ever,” Sarah remarked in between more bites of her pasta. “What’s not to like? She’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s fun to talk to,” she started ticking things off her list. “She has amazing taste in movies and music. Oh, and she lets me borrow her clothes.”

He laughed, suddenly realizing that the Red Hot Chili Peppers band tee shirt she was wearing actually belonged to you. “You’re askin’ for her permission to wear her stuff, right?”

Sarah batted her eyelashes innocently at him. “She said that I didn’t have to ask. In fact, she said I could just help myself to her side of the closet whenever I wanted.”

Joel tossed another crouton at her. “I don’t care what she said, it’s still polite to ask, missy.”

“I’m just kidding, dad! Jeez,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Of course I ask her. You didn’t raise a heathen.”

Joel snorted lightly and leaned back into his chair. “Sometimes I ain’t so sure about that, babygirl.”

After a minute, Sarah’s eyes met his across the table. “Hey, dad?”

“Yeah?”

“You like her a lot too, don’t you?”

“A hell of a lot,” he answered, honestly. “You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like her.”

“Me either,” Sarah admitted. “But I’m really glad that you did.” She paused, offering him a tiny, but genuine smile. “You deserve to be happy, you know?”

Joel’s heart warmed inside of his chest. He lightly kicked her foot underneath the table with his. “Look at you being a big ol’ pile of sentimental goo.”

“And this is exactly why I don’t ever say anything,” Sarah huffed, but she giggled. “You always ruin it.”

“Always ruin what?” You asked as you walked back out of the kitchen. You took your seat and picked up your glass of iced tea looking between the two. “What did I miss?”

“Oh nothing, my dad is just being annoying, as always,” Sarah kidded before she began to polish off the remainder of her dinner.

A long, but comfortable silence fell over the table.

You glanced over at Joel, wondering when it would be time. His gaze met yours and he raised an eyebrow, as if silently asking you if you were ready. Although you weren’t, you gave him a subtle nod.

Joel cleared his throat. “Sarah?”

“Hmm?”

“There’s somethin’ that we want to tell you,” he began to say, earning himself a puzzled look from his daughter. He hesitated, as if trying to figure out the best way to just spit it out. “We’ve been wantin’ to tell you this for a couple of weeks now, but we wanted to find the right moment and well, I think this is it—we’re havin’ a baby.”

Sarah’s fork clinked loudly against her plate as she dropped it in surprise. “What?” she gasped, her wide eyes flicking to you. “Are you freaking serious?”

You nodded, wondering if that was a good reaction or a bad one. You couldn’t quite tell just yet. “I’m having a baby,” you confirmed, lifting a hand and running it nervously through your hair.

Sarah stared at you, her eyes still wide and what looked like a smile threatening to break out across her face. “Swear it?”

You exhaled a breath of relief. “Swear it. I’m six weeks right now.”

Letting out a little squeal, she jumped up from her chair and ran over to you, throwing her arms around your shoulders. “I can’t believe this!” She squeezed you tightly—a little too tightly. “Do you know what it is yet? When will you know? Can we start looking at baby stuff this weekend? Can we buy it clothes already?”

“Sarah, breathe.” Joel shook his head, although he was grinning from ear to ear. “And more importantly, let her breathe.”

“Shut up, Joel. She’s fine,” You waved a hand dismissively at him as you wrapped your arms around her, hugging her back. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be this excited.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sarah exclaimed as she pulled away. “This is the best news ever! I’ve been all by myself for so long!”

“Hey, what are we? Chopped liver?” Joel threw his hands up and then brought them back down onto his lap.

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“No, I really don’t.”

Sarah shrugged. “Well, it’s just been me all these years, dad. But now I get to have a little brother or sister.” She paused and glanced at you. “Is it wrong to say that I really, really hope it’s a girl?”

“Then it would be three against one,” Joel realized, the color draining from his face slightly. “Jesus Christ, I really hope it’s a boy.”

“You have Uncle Tommy.”

“He doesn’t count.”

“Joel!” You snapped at him, causing Sarah to throw her head back and laugh. “Don’t say that.”

“The score is even,” Sarah stated. She pointed a finger at him as she walked back to her chair and sat down. “Two boys, two girls. The baby will be the tie breaker. When will find out what it is?”

“In a few more weeks,” You responded, chuckling at the way her face fell. “Trust me, they’ll go by faster than you think.”

“I can’t wait!” Sarah beamed brightly, looking between the two of you. “Oh man, this is awesome.”

Joel tilted his head curiously at her. “Yeah? You happy, babygirl?”

“I get to have a family,” she murmured, her hand resting lightly on her chest. “A real family, like the ones you see on TV or in the movies." She looked at him, her eyes twinkling brightly. “Happy doesn’t even cover it, dad.”

[archangeldyke-all]

haiii angel :3

i'm afraid sugar momma sevika has taken over my very being... could i request something abt her? maybe the reader convinces her to a day up in piltover for a shopping day :)

hehehehheheheehhe

men and minors dni

sevika's been having a rough week.

silco's been working her hard, and jinx has been getting her into trouble.

you've been trying to make it a little easier for her. last night, you cooked her favorite food for dinner, the night before you gave her an hour long massage. when she finally comes trudging through the door tonight, an exhausted frown on her face, you scoop her up into a long, long hug.

eventually, sevika pulls away, kissing your cheek. "hi, love." she greets.

you smile at her. "i have a surprise for you." you whisper. sevika grins.

"really?"

"something to make you feel better." you say, reaching up to slowly unzip the sweatshirt you threw over your naked chest a few minutes ago.

sevika grins, a sweet little giggle escaping her as your tits are revealed to her. she immediately reaches forward, groping your chest as she swoops in to kiss you. "you know me so well." she sighs against your mouth. you cackle.

"c'mon. let's go take a nap." you say, trying to walk sevika toward the bed. what she needs is a good four hours of sleep.

"wait." sevika whines, her hands still grabbing your tits. "this... this was a very nice surprise but... i know something else we can do that'll make me feel better." sevika says. you raise an eyebrow at her.

"oh yeah?" you ask. she nods.

"lemme take you shopping?" she asks. "i just... wanna spoil you. i need to remember why i'm workin' so hard." she says.

and well... how are you supposed to say no to that?

sevika insists you wear the flimsy little zip up hoodie and nothing else on your little trip. you agree, just for the excited little smile you get for it when you say yes.

as you make your way to the promenade, sevika slings a possessive arm around you, pressing a firm kiss to your head each time someone tries to look your direction.

you try to take her mind off work, asking her about the book she's been reading in her downtime and what she wants to eat for dinner in the coming days.

and when you get up top, you bite your tongue at all the ridiculously expensive shit she asks you to try on, letting her ogle you as much as she pleases, making out with her behind the flimsy curtains of the dressing room.

she buys you whatever you ask for, which means you ask for a lot of stuff for her too. you claim both of you need new toothbrushes, when really it's just sevika's bristles that are worn down and tired. you say the house needs more throw blankets, when she's the one that's always falling asleep on the couch with a book. you beg to stop by the deli and get a good slice of meat, even though you both know sevika's the only person in the house who'll eat it. she gives you a sweet look each time, seeing through your lies but letting you take care of her-- so long as she's the one paying.

by the end of the evening, you have to hire a shopboy to help you carry all your treasures back down to zaun.

it's ridiculous and ostentatious, but it's entirely worth it for the sweet, satisfied smile on sevika's lips as she marches you down the street, both of your arms swinging with shopping bags.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[zepskies]

This is more of a Sam and Dean request than a reader and Dean request but what about Sam having a crush on Dean's gf? How would he react to that, I am honestly CRAVING angst and this is the angstiest, is that a word, thing I could think of, I am so sorry if you don't like angst or this makes you uncomfortable!!!

Oh my God. You killed me with this one, hun. 😫😫 I have another SB imagine coming next week, but I thought I'd put out this one for Dean to break it up a bit.

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,500

Imagine: You are Dean's one exception.

Sam knows it's wrong.

You're smart, with a degree in history that aids them well on hunts.

You're sharp, with a smart mouth that rivals Dean's (and keeps him on his toes).

But you're also kind. You take care of him and Dean with all the feminine grace and care they've never had in their lives.

Sam realizes it when he's up until 3 a.m. in the bunker's War Room. He's sat at the table, researching, eyes bleary, hands cramping from turning pages. And he finds a mug of hot tea sliding next to his idle hand on the table.

You're there with a smile and a hand on his shoulder. "Workin' hard or hardly working?"

Sam clears his throat and nods, chuckles a little. "I'm good." He eyes the mug. "Thanks, though I might need something stronger."

You eye him with gentle reproach. "Nope. Green tea is better for you this late at night. You really should go to sleep, Sam."

Sam tacitly agrees, but only because he can feel the warmth of your hand through his clothing, and it makes his face warmer than the tea. He watches you walk away, notices the curve of your ass in those little shorts. He can imagine your warm hands on his body, caressing him. He can imagine letting his lips graze your skin, exploring you, then devouring you.

And that's when his thoughts stutter to a halt. Sam inwardly cringes.

Despite his sleep-deprived brain, he's reminded that you're traveling down the hall to the room you share with his brother, and for Sam, it's nothing short of torture.

Because he realizes then that he isn't just fond of you. He doesn't love you like an older brother, or even a quasi-brother-in-law. He wants you.

Again, Sam knows it's wrong...but he can't help it. It's one of the saddest cliches in the fucking book. You're his brother's girl, and he wants you for himself.

And it's getting harder to hide it from Dean. They know each other too well -- a result of having no one but each other, but more practically, having lived in such close quarters for so long before they discovered the bunker.

When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, the cut is at a bad angle. He can't quite reach, so you dutifully come around and gently move his hand out of the way to do the stitch yourself. You tsk at him in playful disappointment. "I swear, it's a wonder you and Dean aren't walking patchwork quilts at this point."

Sam chuckles through his nose, wincing when the movement pulls on the stitch. You shoot him a stern look. "Stop moving."

"You're the one making me laugh!" he says, smiling incredulously.

"I don't accept excuses," you retort. "Keep still, please."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam says, his breath hitching for a different reason as he feels your soft hands along his side. He plays it off as pain. "Sorry," you murmur more sincerely. He tells you it's okay. His gaze flicks up, unconsciously finding Dean's face across the room.

He's just finished cleaning a cut on his hand. But he's been watching; Sam can tell. Dean's too perceptive not to notice Sam's discomfort. He probably even knows why. Sam can see a glint of it in Dean's eyes, the stoic front of his face.

"There we go!" you say in satisfaction, and you pat Sam's bare arm. He gives you a wan smile. "Thanks."

"You done, sweetheart?" Dean asks. You get up from your seat by Sam. "What do you need?" you ask.

"You. Come 'ere," he says with a smile, giving you a beckoning finger. "I felt that knot on the back of your head earlier. Think you're slick?"

You huff, but you also smile, in the way you only do for Dean. Sam watches you get up and go to Dean, who touches your cheek, stroking with a thumb first. Then he parts your hair to inspect the back of your head, and you wince a bit. You did fall pretty hard, now that Sam thinks of it. He frowns.

Dean lets out a deep breath. "You've got a nasty bump. You're taking it easy tonight, got it?"

"Yeah? Gonna help me relax?" you whisper. But Sam still hears you, because apparently no one taught you how the hell to whisper.

Dean smirks. "Watch it. I'll think you're flirting with me."

You give him a coy smile as your hand travels up his chest, between the open edges of his plaid shirt, then all the way down, to tease at his belt. "Believe me, when I do, you'll be the first one to know."

Dean's smirk deepens, but his eyes are softer. He closes a hand around yours and brings it to his lips. You lean up and request, wordlessly, for a kiss. Dean obliges you, capturing your lips with a soft kiss.

He eventually breaks from you, only to press his lips to your forehead next, closing his eyes with a sigh. He doesn't like it when you try to hide your injuries from him. You just don't want him to worry so much.

You smile and rest against his chest afterwards. It's clear as day what your heart holds.

It's hard for Sam to watch. His throat constricts, but he takes pains to avert his gaze.

He's so full to the brim with this that he sees no other recourse. He catches Dean alone in the kitchen and tries to make a confession. "Dean, we need to talk."

"Can it wait 'til I'm done?" Dean's plating up some stovetop mac and cheese -- your favorite.

"You're done cooking," Sam points out. Dean looks up at him. "We're doing a little dinner in bed situation. I made her promise to take it easy."

Sam admires the way Dean takes care of you. He really does. But it's also like a small oyster knife twisting in his gut. "Good. I'm glad," is all he says. "Yeah, we can talk later."

"Later" doesn't come for a long time. Weeks, in fact. But every time he tries to broach the problem, Dean finds a way to wiggle out of having the conversation. Always a distraction. A hunt. A fire you almost started in the kitchen. Being "in the middle" of something -- something in the bedroom that you insist needs Dean's immediate attention. Sam gives up for a while after that.

But Winchesters are nothing if not goddamn stubborn. Sam finally catches Dean alone in his room for once. You've gone to the grocery store, leaving the brothers alone in the bunker, but not for long, so Sam needs this chance.

"Dean, can we talk?"

Dean looks up at his brother from where he sits on the edge of his bed. He taps his knee, releases a breath. They both know what this is.

"Are you gonna do more than talk?" Dean asks. It's not what Sam expects. "What?"

"Whatever's on your mind, are you ever gonna do something about it?" Dean asks.

Sam stares back at his brother. He thinks. Hard. He's flipped back and forth for months. If he tells you how he feels, it's over. Things will never be the same between the three of you. It'll confuse you. It might even hurt you. It'll hurt Dean. Sam loves you both, if in very different ways.

So Sam is a bit deflated when he raises his resigned gaze and meets his brother's. "No."

After a moment, Dean nods. "Then we've got nothing to talk about."

But... Sam wants not to want you. Not to love you. Deep, deep down, a large chunk of him feels that he shouldn't have to hide himself. That you have a right to know the depths of what he feels, and what he feels for you.

"I see you're not convinced," Dean says dryly. Sam is silent, until Dean sighs and beckons him over. Sam obliges and sits down next to his older brother, the man he's looked up to (at least metaphorically) his whole life.

"I'd give my life for you. You know that. Right, Sammy?" Dean says. "If I couldn't tear the world apart, I'd lay myself out flat."

Sam sighs. "Dean..." Of fucking course he knows that. Dean already had given his life for him once. Remembering that only adds to Sam's guilt.

Dean meets Sam's gaze directly then. "But this is where I draw the line. She's my line," he says. His face is almost stoic, but his eyes are filled with unyielding fire. "I'm not layin' down on that. Not for you. Not for anyone."

Sam's heart clenches with every kind of pain, but he's also never respected his brother more. He nods. "I get it."

"No, you really fucking don't," Dean says. He's more than serious. "I mean it, Sam. I'll break your damn nose."

After a long moment, Sam nods. He knew Dean loved you. Of course he did. But this is the first time Sam truly understands how deeply. How completely. It's more than jealousy can fathom.

Sam realizes then that he lost, even before he began.

AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 I got way deeper into this than I expected to. Poor Sam. 😭 But I hope this scratched your angsty itch, my dear!

Read the Sequel

Here's the requested sequel to this: Sam crosses the line.

Also, if you want to read the reverse of this (Dean is in love with Sam's girlfriend): Dean gives you an impossible choice.

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine

[biblicallyaccuratecrow]

in stars and time but ghibli movies au braindump

nobody fucking asked for this but it's been plaguing me for weeks and i need other people to think about this with me

IDEA 1: Howl's Moving Castle x ISAT

I mean, come on.

Isa is Sophie. Listen. A hat shop? the themes around changing and transformation? learning to love someone who believes they don't deserve to be loved? Seriously. its perfect.

Sif is Howl. Self explainatory, but I'll talk a little more about it later.

Loop is Calcifer. Also self explainatory. If you know then you know.

Bonnie is Markl. I need more Siffirin as a mentor figure for Bonnie.

Odile is the Witch of the Wastes. Definitely not the same characterization as in the movie though. Don't think too hard about it I just didn't want to make her Turnip Head or something. Plus I think it's a funny idea that Odile does all that shit to Siffrin bc she suspects he did some forbidden magic shit. Basically Witch Hat Atelier.

Mirabelle is Sophie's sister from the verrrry beginning of the movie. she can be more included in the plot because I fucking said so. Maybe she would meet up with Isa when they settle back into the original town?

The King is Madame Sullivan. I have not been able to get the scene where she says "let's show your mother what you really are" out of my head beacuse. it's so so so much like what siffirn fears. also turning her followers into weird blob monsters? its sadnesses for real it works too well

Siffrin as Howl has been knocking around in my head for a while. A few things to note:

The hair dye scene. Siffrin's hair starts out black, and then turns white after. Initially it seems like it's a vanity thing, but their reaction is more because they're afraid of being seen as different.

Howl is a big crow thing. Odile has a cut line where she calls siffrin "little crow". do i really have to explain.

The "dream" sequence where sophie goes to find howl after he comes home injured. "Tell me what's wrong so I can help you!" "You're too late!" like. FUCK. it's them. it's them it's them it's them...

Actually pretty much any sophie and howl scene from the last act of the movie, in particular the one where sophie tells howl to run away... and howl says that they won't because they've finally found something they wanna protect,,,, bc they have a family,,,, ough,,,,,

i yearn for funny kinda isaloop moments (HE LIKES MY SPARKKK)

do i really gotta say it. the opening scene of isat. Loop's wish. eating the fucking star the entire fucking opening of this game is a howls moving castle reference-

there's a lot more i could say about this one but i also wanna talk about my other ideas....

IDEA 2: Castle In The Sky x ISAT

hi, I love castle in the sky, am definitely normal about it, have definitely not made prior aus about it for totk, definitely not

Siffrin is Sheeta. just a random guy with special powers who came from a sky (star) centric civilization that has been forgotten by everyone? yeah. yeah that's. yup.

Isa is Patsu. not much to say there, just. they share a lot of similarities. except isa has more braincells. Also the idea of engineer Isa workin on the planes is enjoyable to me.

Odile is Dola. Listen. I need pirate Odile in my life. I need it with my whole body and soul. She would be wonderful. So full of piss and vinegar.

Mirabelle and Bonnie are members of Odile's crew, they got picked up along their journeys. Mira is there? because she's running form the secret police (Muska/The King ig)and Bonnie is there bc Nille is a mechanic who basically keeps the whole ship running

Muska is The King. There's not a lot I gotta say about this, other than Muska is genuinely the most terrifying Ghibli villain ever and is the reason why i watch this movie in dub (thank you Mark Hamill), so a lot of the conversations surrounding Laputa kinda remind me of the country

The Lost Country is Laputa, enough said, an entire country that has been forgotten by seemingly the entire world with technology and magic that is so powerful that it could quite literally lead to the destruction of humanity, yep yep yep

i also like the thought of the giant gem in the center of laputa being a star...

Misc ideas that I haven't really fleshed out as much:

Princess Mononoke: Siffrin is San. Isa is Ashitaka???? i guess???? Odile is Moro, Bonnie and Mira are the two unnamed wolf gods. The King is lady eboshi. the universe is the forest spirit, and triggers the red shade when it's head is severed. the kodamas are the little change god statues.

Spirited Away: Siffrin is Haku. the forgotten name, the loss of identity, the badassery... they've got it all. Bonnie as Chihiro, if you make it weird it's ON SIGHT, uhhhh loop as Kaonashi/No Face, The King as Yubaba, Euphrasie as Zeniba, Odile as Lin (I LOVE THE IDEA OF ODILE AS LIN WITH MY WHOLE SOUL, where is more hurt/comfort of odile and siffrin MY GOD-), beyond that i have zero idea who mira and isa would be ;w;

anyways yall have fun with this one

[becoming-less-than]

Soo like in the last two weeks or so since my last post Master has like made a few umm… new rules for me to like follow. Like the first is that I have to like only use words with six or less ummm sound shape things or less. Which is like kinda hard and totes takes a bunch of effort to like keep my words that small. The loss of ummm like bein able to like say umm the like exact right thing I wanted to is like totes vexing but Im like def gettin the hang of it. Ive gotten like better at ummm knowin that this is just the way girls like the ones I like aspire to become talk and type so Imma keep workin on it. Ive found I have gotten pretty good at ummmm… findin ways to make words fit and say what I wanted to. My second new 4ever rule is that I have to like use “like” and “umm” and other bimbo speak where I can to like make me sound dumber and stuff. And let me tell you it really does. I feel like I totes ummm babble like a ditz more cuz I have to like ummm talk around big words and ummm hard ideas to like get my points out. It’s like totes a… umm… trial(?😅) to get my ideas out and like on a page any more. If feel like such a dummy and like a total air head talkin this way but it seems to like make Master happy, and the ummm… shame(?😅) of being … ummm less this way is like totes hot and has me takin edge breaks like more often than I like ever woulda before. It’s perf and while I like totes feel shame it’s so fuckin hot.

Like beyond my new rules Master has like kept me edgin and only cumin when he like tells me to, to lock in a like new part of my training. Master is totes ummm… helpin me learn and like umm… intuit(?😅) the truth of the fact that I’m like his needy little bi cock slut now. While helpin to umm make sure I like keep umm… bcumin the dumb ditzy bimbo slut and cow pet I’m like meant to be. It’s like been hard bcuz of work and life but like I’m the stress there just makes me like crave this more and more. The like sweet sticky foggy feelin lasts a bit longer, I’m findin it like harder and harder not to like edge when I’m bored, I like find my self here on tumblr any time I have a spare second just to like find more inspo… I’m umm… gettin away from who I used to be two months ago and like totes can’t wait to see where things go from here! 🖤

Thank you Master for all you’ve done to help me become a bit more of the silly stupid bimbo slut and needy good girl and bi cock sleeve I so want to be! I hope this makes you happy and all the people readin it too! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

As always asks and DMs are welcum just follow the rules!

[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter two: covid & carbonara

summary: in a time of isolation, you and carmy find unexpected connection in unexpected places: each other. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language, mentions of covid-19/the pandemic, eventual smut.

word count: 4k

listen to: hot sugar - glass animals | hard to live in the city - albert hammond jr. | alone together - del water gap | foreign girls - bleachers

read: chapter one

March 2020: 

“Carmy, can you hear me now?” you ask, listening carefully for his response. 

“Yeah hold on. Wifi’s shit in this room,” he mumbles. You hear a rustle of sounds and the picture on your phone goes blurry for a second. This is just something you’ve come to accept is a part of your life now as you wait. 

Suddenly, the picture is clear again and it looks like Carmy’s in his living room now. He wears a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants as he tries to get comfy on the shitty sofa in his Flatiron apartment. 

“Ok there we go. I gotta-, yeah, I can hear you now,” he says, finally settling in. 

“How are you?” you ask as you grow more sure that you’re going to be able to talk now. “It’s good to see your face.”

“Yeah, no uh. It’s good to see you too,” he replies. “Shit’s so weird right now, huh?”

“Totally,” you agree. “So… what’ve you been up to? I mean… how are you spending your time?”

He sighs, shaking his head, as if to say that he barely knows how to answer that question. He thinks it over before answering with:

“I don’t know. Workin’ on some recipes. Tryin’ not to lose my fuckin’ head. You?”

“Same,” you commiserate. “Though… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been enjoying some of the down time, you know?”

He couldn’t agree less. 

Carmy tells you about the recipes he’s working on. You share with him the plot of the show you’re binge watching right now. He tells you he hasn’t really been in touch with family much and you let him know that you’ve been running errands for your parents where you can. It’s a fairly normal conversation for a very uncertain and strange time, but it brings you comfort – talking to Carmy. 

You talk about the state of the restaurant industry. The state of the world. The two of you wonder when the restaurant might open back up – if they’ll consider doing to-go’s. He’s not sure and neither are you.

It’s almost two hours later when you realize your phone is dying, and that somehow, time has flown as the two of you have been talking. 

“Shit, uh. My phone’s dying. I may have to go,” you say remorsefully. 

“Oh yeah! No problem,” Carmy replies, almost apologetically. “And I uh, if I get in touch with the people at World Central Kitchen, I’ll let you know. I’m sure they can always use more chefs and volunteers.”

“No, that’d be great. Uh… before I go,” you start, knowing that you want to tell him this. “I just wanted to say… I’m glad we did this.”

“Yeah me too,” he agrees, and you can tell he means it. 

“Maybe… we do it again? Keep each other company… you know. Virtually?” you propose, hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Carmy half smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And as the pandemic drags on, you find yourself FaceTiming with Carmy more and more. Once a week turns into once a week and a consistent exchange of texts. He shares with you the recipes he’s working on. You bounce ideas around with him on dishes he feels stuck on. You send him silly memes and TikToks, even though he refuses to get an account himself. Once a week turns into twice a week, and then phone calls, and soon enough, you don’t go a day without talking to Carmy in some capacity. 

You’re not sure how you’ve done it but you think that maybe you and Carmy just might be friends. 

May 2020: 

“Thanks so much for all the help guys. It means a lot. Especially having two chefs of your caliber,” the volunteer coordinator says, addressing both you and Carmy. 

“Listen, we’re just happy to be a part of something right now. With so much going on… it’s hard to know where to begin helping,” you reply with gratitude. You’re genuinely thankful that you’ve been able to be a part of World Central Kitchen’s COVID relief efforts, and you know Carmy feels the same. 

“We’ll see you guys next Friday?” the volunteer coordinator asks. 

“Heard,” Carmy answers, thanking the coordinator one more time before the two of you leave the building. 

Around the corner, there’s a bench that the two of you find. It’s an easy choice to sit down – neither of you are quite ready to go home yet. You sit on opposite sides before removing your masks as Carmy pulls out a pack of marlboros. 

“You want one?” he asks you, holding out the pack.

“Yeah,” you agree, taking one from him at a distance. You watch him light up, before handing you the lighter he keeps in his jean jacket pocket.

It’s nice to take a moment to pause. Between the chaos of being in a kitchen again to the chaos of the world around you, it feels good to smoke a fucking cigarette on a street corner with the man that’s so unexpectedly become your friend. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the sounds of the city, each others’ company, and your fuckin’ cancer sticks. 

You break the silence between the two of you, letting out the smallest chuckle.

“What?” Carmy asks you, your laugh garnering his attention. 

“It’s just… it’s almost funny,” you say, continuing your giggle. 

“What?” he asks you again, a look of amusement on his face. He can’t imagine what must be so funny. 

“Just… seeing you here… Mr. Fine Dining…makin’ sandwiches,” you tease playfully. “Thought you were too fancy-pants for that.”

“Fuck off,” he rolls his eyes playfully, sucking on his cigarette as he inhales. You laugh again as he shakes his head, shooting you another look. 

He takes his time, exhaling the smoke out in the opposite direction, before addressing your playful remarks. 

“Nah. It uh-, actually reminds me of my family’s place a little. Back home,” he shares with you. 

It catches you off guard. Carmy rarely ever talks about home, let alone his family. 

“Yeah?” you ask curiously, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod, before placing the cigarette back in between his lips. 

To your disappointment, you realize that’s all he’s planning to share. You resign yourself, taking another drag of your cigarette as the two of you smoke to the sounds of the city. After a long shift at the volunteer kitchen, your exhaustion begins to catch up with you. It’s been a few months since you’ve had to stand for that long, and as exhilarating as it’s been, you can feel the fatigue in your back and your feet already. 

“So… I was thinkin’ about something,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

You angle your body towards him before asking, “What’s that?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.” 

He’s suddenly shy, and your eyes flicker over his cheeks that have turned a darker shade of red than they were before. 

“Carmy, what is it?” you ask, leaning towards him, now intrigued.

He avoids your gaze before he replies, “Nah. Nevermind. It’s stupid.” 

“No, it’s not! What is it?” you continue to press him.

You’re not going to let this go. 

“I shouldn't've said anything.” 

He sighs, taking one more drag of his cigarette before leaning forward and tossing it on the ground. His left foot hovers over the cigarette butt as he stamps it out, his forearms resting on his legs as he finally turns to you again. 

“I don’t know how you feel about it, and you can totally say no because like… shit’s still fucked, you know but-,” he starts, shyly. Was Carmy about to ask you out?

 He pauses, his eyes scanning the pavement beneath his feet before saying, “It’s just-, I’m not like, seeing anyone else in person. Except you.”

“Yeah, no me either,” you agree. 

Where was this going?

“Would you maybe wanna-?” he asks, before trailing off, his piercing blue eyes so intense it feels like he’s looking right through you. He nods towards the kitchen before continuing with, “... see each other in person. Like outside of here. As long as we’re being safe you know?” 

You nod, quick to put the poor man at ease, and only a little intrigued as to why it was so difficult for him to ask you that. 

“Yeah no. I’m not seeing anyone else in person either. And at this point if we had COVID, we’d probably already have exposed each other, right?” you reply. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

“Yeah, I’d be down. To… you know. Maybe move some of our FaceTimes… in person, if that’s what you mean,” you agree, a smile on your face. 

You’re not sure what you expected, but you weren’t expecting for Carmy to ask you to become his quarantine buddy – even if you’d already kind of been doing it anyways. 

“Cool,” he says, taking a breath. 

You can tell that it was a big deal for him – to ask you that – even if he doesn’t want to show it. 

“Can I walk you home?” he asks. 

You smile in return, “Yeah. And if you’re feeling wild… we can… pick something up on the way there. You can come up and hang.”

“No, yeah. That uh-, that sounds great,” he replies, something softer in his eyes this time. “If you don’t mind. I mean-, if you want the company-.”

“Oh shut up, Berzatto,” you roll your eyes at him. You shoot him a look, even though you’re kind of loving this softer side of him. 

“I wouldn’t have offered, if I didn’t.”

July 2020: 

Carmen Berzatto becomes an unexpected yet pleasantly surprising part of your support system, and your COVID-pod. It’s hard to believe that less than a year ago, you thought the man absolutely hated you. He’s still the hot and cold, emotionally turbulent man you met last October, and he’s also become your friend. You’ve learned that he can be soft, that he’s terribly uncomfortable in any and all social situations, and that he’s the most single-minded, driven, obsessed motherfucker you’ve ever met. 

By now, the restaurant has pivoted and reopened for to-gos only. It’s nothing like the fine dining establishment it was before. You’re only open Thursday to Sunday and it’s a much more family style, to-go kit sort of operation these days: to-go cocktail kits, to-go curated menus, to-go assemble your own dishes at home. 

It’s strange. And it’s a strange time for all of you. 

You’re finished with your shift today, ready to head home and spend the next three days off. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get three days off in a row once all of this is over, so you’ve decided that you’re just going to embrace the slower lifestyle right now. You’ve been more creative in this chapter of your life than you can remember. 

“So you layin’ it down for Carmy or what?” a voice asks, jolting you from your thoughts. 

“Excuse me?” you snap, turning your head to a very smug looking Nate Walker, stripping off his face mask.

“What the fuck, man?” Tim exclaims, as he’s changing back into his street shoes. “Not okay to say.”

“What?” Nate defends himself. “I’m just wondering who I have to thank. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen the boss man.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Really nice, Nate.” 

You shake your head, before slinging your backpack over your right arm, exchanging a look with Tim. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Carmy and I are just friends,” you correct. “Ever think that some time off has been good for all of us and that’s why Carmy’s been chill?”

“‘S not like we’re working at the same capacity we used to be. I think it’s been good for him,” Tim chimes in, trying to offer you a little backup.

“Sure,” Nate replies, unconvinced. 

“What’s it to you anyways, Walker?” Tim asks, putting the spotlight on his coworker. 

“Nothin’,” Nate replies, defensively. “Just noticed you guys spendin’ a lot of time together lately. Besides, the guy could use a good lay.”

“You’re a child,” you snap with an eye roll. You slide your left arm into the other strap of your backpack, ready to leave. “Now if we’re done with the girl talk, I’m going home.”

As you begin to walk away, you can hear Nate defending himself as Tim points out how inappropriate it was for him to say that to you. You’re grateful for people like Tim, because you’re not sure that Nate would listen to anyone else lower in the French brigade system – let alone a woman. 

“We still on for tomorrow?” Carmy asks you, as you're on your way out. He’s still in his chef whites because, as the both of you know, he’s going to be the last person to leave. A smile spreads across your face as soon as you see him. 

That’s right. You’re spending your day off tomorrow with him. 

“Yeah,” you smile with a nod. 

“Mine or yours?” he asks. 

You shoot him a look – a ‘I know you haven’t cleaned up your place’ kind of look. 

“Mine,” you reply. 

“Sweet. There’s a cool market nearby I wanted to check out. I’ll pick somethin’ up on the way,” he says back. 

“Heard.”

You wait a beat before adding, “Try not to work too hard, chef.”

He likes that you’re looking out for him. 

He smiles, “Heard.”

*

As much as you’ve tried not to let Nate Walker get to you, you can’t stop thinking about what he said the day before. Did people think you and Carmy were sleeping together? Did the whole staff think you were trying to sleep your way to the top? Your mind races, and you notice the anxious feelings you have have settled deep in your chest. Carmy moves around your kitchen, intentionally, and while you’d like to enjoy how happy he looks when he cooks for fun, you can’t seem to shut off your brain. 

“You sure I can’t help? I went to culinary school too, yknow?” you ask, trying to put on your best lighthearted tone. 

“Nah,” he dismisses, pulling together a sauce in one of the glass bowls you keep in your kitchen for prep. 

As Carmy steals a glance your way, he’s surprised to find that whatever weight it seems you were carrying when he first walked in, hasn’t gone away. He returns his focus to the stovetop, shaking the stainless clad frying pan that holds his precisely-cut lardons. 

“What’s up?” he asks you, keeping his back to you. 

“Uh… nothing,” you reply, trying your best to shake it off. 

He knows you’re lying, and he turns to look at you again, more intently this time. Your lips are pressed together in a thin line and there’s a new tension knitted between your brows that’s not normally there. As much as you’re trying not to let it get to you, your face betrays you and he knows that something’s been bothering you all day. He shoots you an unconvinced look and you sigh in defeat. 

Since when had Carmy learned what that look meant. 

“Just-, you’re gonna think it’s dumb,” you start, almost embarrassed that you have to bring this up to him. 

“What’s up?” he asks, patiently. 

You shrug, “Just something that Nate said yesterday’s been… bothering me, I guess.”

He rolls his eyes, letting out a dry laugh as he asks you, “Well Nate’s a dick. What’d he say?”

“I-, I don’t know if I should tell you,” you admit hesitantly. 

“Why?” he asks, a pang of nerves hitting him right in the gut. 

You wait a beat, trying to figure out how best to convey what Nate said without freaking Carmy out. 

“He uh… he kind of… suggested that everyone thinks we’re sleeping together?” you say cautiously, your voice going up at the end of the sentence, almost as if it were a question. 

“Oh,” is all Carmy manages to get out. 

“Yeah,” you exhale. 

“Well, we’re not,” Carmy replies, simply. 

Right. 

“Right,” you agree. 

You’re surprised by the feeling of disappointment that wells in your chest in response to Carmy’s reply. This had been eating away at you and for him to shut it down so quickly – like it was that simple – doesn’t quite make sense to you. 

Maybe it’s because men never bear the burden of an inappropriate workplace relationship, not that you’re having one with Carmy, but you know it’d be a bigger cost to you than it’d ever be for him.

“I just…” you start, beginning to understand why it’s bothering you so much. “Do you think… like is it a problem that we’re hanging out? I mean, you are kind of my boss and… I don’t know. I guess we never really talked about the ethical implications of… you know. Us. Being friends. And also working together.”

Friends. 

Right. 

Maybe because it’s because he’s never really had friends, let alone a girlfriend, that catches Carmy off guard.

You’re just friends, motherfucker, Carmy thinks to himself. 

It’s like he’d almost forgotten. 

Perhaps it’s the isolation – the way of the world right now – but he’s never thought about what you were to him. Ever since the two of you had decided to start spending time together, it had been you and him against a very scary and uncertain world. Carmy’s surprised to find that, hearing it said aloud, friends, leaves him with a feeling of dissatisfaction – like the word friend didn’t quite describe the way he felt about you. 

But he’s terrified to think about what that could mean. That anything else would probably scare you away – push you out of his life – and there’s no way in hell he’s going to let that happen right now. 

Because he likes this too much. 

Because he likes who he is when he’s with you. 

Because you’re all he has. 

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind for another time, because right now, you’re sitting right in front of him, and he’s got a problem to solve for you. 

“As long as we’re professional in the kitchen… I don’t see why it should be a problem,” he says. 

You’re not sure how it seems so simple for him, because it doesn’t feel this simple for you. 

“Yeah, no. I-, I agree,” you lie. 

Carmy returns to what he’s doing, and you accept that that’s probably the full conversation that you’re going to have with him. At least right now. You watch as he continues to cook, pulling together the sauce as he tosses the pasta and cheese in your frying pan. You open up your phone, scrolling through a few social media posts to try your best to get your mind off of your worries as Carmy finishes up in your kitchen. 

It’s not long before he’s returned to your small dining table. You set your phone down, watching as he approaches you. 

“I remember you mentioning that it’s hard to find a good carbonara so uh… thought I’d make you one,” he says confidently. Carmy hands you bowl containing a perfectly twirled nest of spaghetti, along with a fork he’d gotten from your kitchen. 

“How do I know it’s gonna be up to my standards?” you challenge him playfully. 

He shoots you a ‘don’t play with me’ kind of look and you giggle in response. You exchange glances with Carmy before messing up the perfectly plated nest by digging your fork into it. 

“Make sure you get a little bit of everything,” he reminds you. He watches as you twirl the spaghetti around your fork, making sure to scoop up a bit of crispy guanciale. You lift the fork to your mouth before taking a bite, your eyes closing as the salty, cheesy, bite hits your tongue. 

It’s perfect.  

“Holy fuck,” you practically moan in response to your first bite. You open your eyes and he smiles back at you, proud of the response he’s earned from you. Your face twists into a look that falls somewhere between ‘this is so good I’m angry and hello, I’ve reached nirvana.’ 

“This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude,” you say, as you continuing processing the most perfect carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. 

“No offense taken,” he says. 

You shake your head at him, “Best carbonara ever.”

September 2020: 

“So we go upstate, and we’re searching for outdoor activities we can do, you know, safely, at a distance, with masks on. And we end up at this goat farm,” Maya says, describing her and her fiance’s last few months spent in upstate New York. 

“...Was the goat named Milo?” Carmy asks, a humorous tone to his question. 

“Carmy!” you exclaim with a laugh, shooting him a look. 

“What?” he asks back. 

Both Liz, Maya, and her fiance Patrick send you questioning looks. 

“I-, it’s an inside joke,” you explain, shaking your head once again in response to Carmy’s very silly interjection. 

“Anyways, it’s so nice to be back in the city. Seriously, Liz, thanks for organizing this,” Maya continues. 

“Oh, I’m kind of getting really into this whole cute picnic thing actually,” she replies, in reference to the picnic she’s organized for the five of you. “Plus, the to-go picnic kit has been killing at the restaurant. Thanks for letting me run with that, chef.”

“No, yeah. You’re killin’ it. It was a great idea,” Carmy compliments. 

The five of you spend time in the park, catching up and enjoying time spent in person for the first time in a long time. You, Liz, and Carmy have been back at work, pushing through, what will hopefully be, the last month or so in the to-go only business at the restaurant. As the sun begins to come down, you all agree that it’s time to pack it up and go home. You’ve begun to collect all of the trash in a brown paper bag as Carmy offers to take it. 

“You sure?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

As he takes a walk, in search of the nearest trash can, your friends are immediately on you about whatever the hell it is that you and Carmy are doing. 

“So what I’m hearing is… you talk every day, you have inside jokes together, and you’re basically quarantining together. How are you trying to tell us that this man is not your boyfriend?!” Maya exclaims. Her partner shrugs in agreement. 

“I know that what Nate said was hella inappropriate, but he’s not wrong… that this is the most I’ve seen him relaxed in… maybe since we met him,” Liz adds in as your friends make their case. 

“He seems into you,” Patrick offers. 

“I-,” you start, knowing you don’t have much time before Carmy returns. “I don’t know. All I know is… I like what we have. And right now, we’re friends so.”

“God, you’re so good at it,” Maya sighs. 

“What?” you ask, looking from her to Liz as they exchange glances. 

The both turn to you, before saying in unison, “Compartmentalizing!” 

Patrick holds his hands up as he says, “I’m gonna stay out of this one.”

“You ready to go?” Carmy asks, rejoining you and your friends. 

You can practically feel Liz and Maya staring at you. 

“Yeah,” you reply to Carmy. 

You say your goodbyes before going your separate ways, and Maya swears when Carmy isn’t listening that you’re not done talking about this. It’s just been you and Carmy for so long that you hadn’t thought about what it might look like to other people. Now that things were slowly reopening… you were beginning to get more questions, and maybe, you were beginning to have more questions too. 

But the last time you’d tried to bring up any conversation about your relationship with Carmy, he’d shut it down and distracted you with the best carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. Not that you were complaining, definitely not, but you were hesitant to bring it up any time soon.  As Carmy looks at you, there’s something about the way you look against the backdrop of the city, the setting sun, and the sparkling lights, that catches him off guard. He’s not ready to part ways with you yet.

“Can I walk you home?” Carmy offers, hopefully. 

“Sure,” you nod.

read chapter three

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

[kcscribbler]

WIP Wednesday

It's still Wednesday here, yes. Thank you for the tags, @justabigoldnerd @elodiah @lokimobius and @insert-witty-user-name-here!

You can have a little bit from a soft little plotless oneshot I'm tinkering with, set a day or two after the rescue arc in the Storyteller series.

How’re you holding up, by the way?” “As well as can be expected, I believe.” Loki shifts slightly, angled more toward him, and curls an arm lazily under his head. “Meaning I’ve really no idea. This is all new to me, so to speak.” “Well, that makes two of us,” Mobius admits. He gives up on the file with a sigh, fingers drumming absently on the closed folder. “Not gonna lie, I’m a little distracted.” “Hmm.” Drowsiness softens that particular smirk into nothing but fondness. “You flatter me.” “Some habits are hard to break, I guess.” Mobius chuckles. “I’m making this weird, I’m sorry.”

IDK who all has been tagged yet, but if you haven't been, no pressure - @mirilyawrites @thosegayoldmen @in-my-loki-feels @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @asoeiki

@natendo-art @wolfpup026 @silentxsymphony @dilfmobius @impulsemuppet Whatcha workin' on this week?

[lilacsbeeswax]

happy birthday to your account!! for your writing event, can I please have Lilies 🌺 with work song by hozier and sirius black? thank you🖤

Work Song

Part of my 2 year milestone event!

MASTERLIST

——-

Boys, workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

Work, work, and work Sirius swore these days it’s all that he did. Back when his dream of running his own tattoo shop was nothing but that he had had no idea what it would entail.

For the past week, he had been clogged with appointments. So many people had wanted custom tattoos, so he was drawing constantly. Then, it came to actually doing the pre booked tattoos which could take hours. As well as, walk ins that paid well, but took just as much time. Even when sharing the work load with James it was hard. Remus was out on vacation meaning Sirius had to take over bookkeeping and running the business. He swore he’d never have to do math, but there he was doing basic algebra at 8 am.

In short, Sirius was absolutely swamped. He had even been sleeping (albeit only a few hours) at the shop. His overfull mind only becoming more painful in the hours away from her.

Her. His only paradise. His pretty baby. The only girl for him.

He got small tastes of Y/n throughout the day, but it didn’t satiate his desire for her. Everyday at 11:30 am, she would bring him lunch during her break at her own job. She could be doing anything else, but she wanted to spend her rest time on him. Sirius loved it so much he felt sick. Often, he would be thinking about her so much that he wouldn’t be able to eat. He was unable to stomach the sweetness that he felt he never deserved.

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

Sirius walked into the apartment on Saturday night exhausted. Y/n called out to him, “Siri? Is that you?”

He didn’t respond quietly slipping off his shoes and coat. She turned the corner, running up to him and nearly sliding on the laminate floor. She wrapped her arms around him, placing her forehead on his.

“Hey baby,” Sirius sighed. “I missed you.”

She leaned away and smiled at him. That sweet smile that made him feel like he was going to faint. “I missed you more!”

Sirius moved to brush a thumb against her lips relishing in everything about her, before his gently pulled her into a kiss. It was soft and sweet and if he didn’t know better, Sirius would suspect he was going into cardiac arrest.

Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

And I was burnin' up a fever

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

Y/n and Sirius had met many years ago, back when he was a self-described man whore and carried way too much trauma to hold on his own.

He had been a mess. Drinking constantly, using, and not being able to hold a stable job. Despite all of his problems, she had pulled him up and out of it.

Sirius had lost yet another job the day he had started that fateful drunken binge. Maybe, it was the cheap vodka or the combination of it and the weed, but he had called her.

When she arrived at his place after a very concerning phone call, you had found him on the floor half dead. From then on she never stopped taking care of him. She never asked what really happened.

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamplight I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me

Y/n and Sirius got ready for bed and laid down on their soft shared mattress for the first time in what felt like weeks.

She ran her fingers over his scarred up arms and chest. She kissed his lips, while caressing the marred skin. Sirius pulled away and kissed down her neck, nipping at all of the places he knew she liked. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her smiling under the dim lamp light.

“Fucking hell, you’re heaven.” He chuckled, saying a word between every soft peck of her neck.

“I could say the same about you, Siri.” She giggled, pulling him close to her, not planning on letting go anytime soon.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

Lying there wrapped around the love of his life, Sirius couldn’t help but smile, knowing no one and nothing could take him away from his baby.

MASTERLIST

[impala-dreamer]

please Tell Me About John Winchester x Reader and Exhibitionism!

A Quick Break

John Winchester x Reader

997 Words (oops)

NSFW, Exhibitionism, Sex Things

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The motel room was stuffy and dark. Y/N was tired of squinting into the shadows and the damned lamps were dimmer than than the idiot cops they’d interviewed that morning. With a huff, she slammed her book down on the bed and leapt up. Her bare toes dug into the plush blue carpet as she padded to the window and threw back the curtains. 

A plumage of dust scattered into the room, but the sunlight was welcomed and warm. 

“I don’t know why you always insist on workin’ in the dark,” she said, hoping to rock John from his stupor. 

He was hard at it, chewing on a pen cap while scanning the surrounding towns’ newspapers from the last two weeks. He cocked a brow and peered over at her. 

“Because I like it,” he answered simply. 

Y/N closed her eyes and let the sun warm her face. “Yeah, well, I can’t see shit.” 

The large, single window ran the entire length of the short front wall and faced the pool area. Like the room, the pool wasn’t much to look at, but a few lodgers were making use of its cooling, overly chlorinated waters. Y/N sighed, wondering if she could coax him into going for a dip. 

“We could use a break, ya know…” 

John hummed non-commitally. “I guess.” 

She turned and pressed her back against the glass. “You have been workin’ real hard, Johnny…” 

Hazel eyes lit up with interest. She was the only one who ever called him that, and despite the less-than-manly quality to the nickname, he loved it. 

“I suppose.” 

She smiled and bit her lip as he stared her way. The mid-day sun was haloing her in bright light and he couldn’t help the twing of desire in his gut. Her curves were sexy silhouettes, her position in the window was one that teased ‘come get me’. 

He answered the call before she could register what he was doing. 

John swept in, grabbing her up into his big arms and licking at her lips. Y/N melted instantly. Her eyes fell closed, her lips softened and parted. She hummed into his mouth as his hands slid down her body, lovingly gripping each delicious curve. 

Pulling back, she grinned up at him. “Take me to bed…” Her whisper was sultry, her eyes inviting. 

John licked his lips and shook his head. He eyed the pool, the patrons splashing about not more than a dozen yards from their room. With a devilish smirk, he bent down to kiss her again, this time diving deep between her lips as he cupped her left breast. She squirmed against him, her body opening for him in every way that it could. His scruff scraped at her lips, his rough hands scratched her sides. He slipped a hand into her shorts and she gasped. 

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N counted six people close by. “John- don’t-”

He tapped at her clit and her body jolted with desire. “You want me to stop?” He pressed down lightly and her eyes glazed over. 

She swallowed hard. “Um… no? I just… there’s people right there.”

John laughed and bent to kiss her throat as he dragged his middle finger slowly through her pussy lips. She shivered and he licked at her ear. “So? Let them watch.” 

Her heart pounded, her knees spread a little wider. She nodded breathlessly. “OK…” 

With a hard kiss, John pressed her into the window. The sunkissed glass hit the small of her back; warm and firm. She could feel phantom eyes upon her, and she prayed that the glare from the sun was hiding her writhing form. 

John dipped two fingers in deep and flickered his thumb over her clit. Every moan was swallowed by a kiss, every buck of her hips was met with a thrust of his hand. She clung to his broad shoulders, licked at his throat, desperately tried to be involved when all she really wanted was to lay back and have him fuck her until the walls came down around them. 

“Johnny,” she moaned, “need your cock… please…” 

He growled aganist her lips and withdrew his hand from her shorts, immediately moving to open his belt. Once more, Y/N moved to scoot around him and run for the bed, but again, he stopped her. 

“No.” He shook his head and tugged on the waistband of her shorts. “Right here.” 

She hesitated, an innocent pout turning her lip. “But-”

A big hand gripped her hip, tugging her close. “Now.” 

Y/N held her breath as John lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his trim waist and let out a hard huff as he propped her up against the window. 

“This is bad,” she laughed. 

He grinned. “Is it?” His erection nudged at her cunt. 

She shuddered and whined. “No. Good. Do it. Please.” 

John slammed into her and she worried for a moment that the glass would shatter, but it held strong. 

Her nails dug into the back of his neck; his hands cupped her ass. 

The sun beat down on the window, highlighting but hiding their bodies. If anyone was watching from the pool, they made no scene; blissfully unaware of the orgasmic pulse still working its way through Y/N’s shaking body as John set her down on the blue carpet. She fell to her knees and took his cock in her mouth, finishing the job while the lodgers swam, oblivious. 

His palms flat on the window, he jerked his hips in a quick rhythm, forcing her to keep up or choke. When she buried her face in the black hair around his cock, he came, spurting down her delicate throat. 

He helped her to her feet. She smiled with cum-drunk happiness. 

“How’s that for a break?” he asked. 

Y/N laughed and slumped forward into his arms. “It was pretty good,” she replied. “But, I still wanna go for a swim...” 

[lordeemailarchive]

how I’ve been, revised

(20/09/2023) (Solar Institute Bulletin No. 22) (From London)

Aftershow quiet in Helsinki

Hey,

I just finished writing you a long letter, catching you up on how I’ve been. It ended neatly, tied with a little bow. I chose my words well, but I didn’t tell the truth. So I’m starting again, gonna type and not look back, and send what comes out.

I’m in London, have been since May. Things feel clear here. I haven’t seen many friends; mostly, I’m alone with my thoughts. I go swimming, I go to work, I walk home or take the train, I eat in my kitchen, I go to bed thinking about what I’m making. I’m starting to miss my friends and family, like a vitamin I’m deficient in. Soon I’ll be going back to New York, and then home.

I’m living with heartbreak again. It’s different but the same. I ache all the time, I forget why and then remember. I’m not trying to hide from the pain, I understand now that pain isn’t something to hide from, that there’s actually great beauty in moving with it. But sometimes I’m sick of being with myself. I eat chocolate to try and manipulate the endorphins, bring back the sweet happiness of Easter morning. I sit in the time machine and wait for it to move, but it hasn’t been invented yet.

My body is really inflamed, it’s trying to tell me something and I’m trying to support it but nothing seems to help and I get frustrated. My gut isn’t working properly, my skin is worse than ever, I’ve gotten sick half a dozen times. I realised earlier this year that listening to my body is hard for me, it’s something I never really learned how to do. I’ve been trying to teach myself that this year, but it’s been hard actually, pretty confronting, has made me fully aware of all the times I ignored it or didn’t give it what it needed, shamed it for a fight or flight response, took a handful of pills and pushed through. The little yellow pill I took every morning for thousands of mornings since I was 15, I stopped taking it 5 days ago. Gonna see how it goes.

I go online and look at everyone. Beautiful people sing to me. Everyone’s gotten really good at the same thing. I look at arched backs and wet flower mouths, the right bag, the right sunglasses. I wonder if it feels as good as it looks, it’s been so long since I chose the best picture from a hundred, lined it up like pulling an arrow taut in a bow, and let it go. Everyone looks very thin. Just thinking that makes me feel tired and far away. I’m not sure if it’s having an effect on anyone else. I keep spending money, wondering if what’s in the package will make me feel right, but I guess I buy the wrong things. I was gonna go to fashion week in Paris, had all these grand plans, but this week I txted my manager and pulled out. At the start of my career I promised myself I’d never be one of the people in the light smiling if it wasn’t real.

Earlier this year, I ate two handfuls of mushrooms, solid doses that tasted like green dirt. I got a lot of information about what my body had been through in our time so far, what it needed, where God was and where God wasn’t; I felt in my bones how destabilising it is to leave home and start a new life the way I did. I also saw that my body is completely magnificent, and that hating it is as futile as hating a tree; that I truly, truly love doing my job, and that my life is like a beautiful tapestry, and every inch of it is precious and has meaning.

It might seem funny or be easy to forget, but I make records because I need to. The songs are spells; a spell to let go of something, a spell to unlock a door. Every time I put something into words just as I see it, set it to the right music, a knot comes loose in me. But it hurts too, confronting the knots. I’ve made enough records to know that this feeling of my skin coming off is part of it. I know I’m gonna look back on this year with fondness and a bit of awe, knowing it was the year that locked everything into place, the year that transitioned me from my childhood working decade to the one that comes next — one that even through all this, I’m so excited for. It’s just hard when you’re in it.

So in this state, I went out on a short European festival tour. We built a cool new version of the show in a couple days. It was good to change gears and get out of my head. I put effort into the show, changing the setlist and arrangements, it was cool how you picked up on that, and it felt good dancing to the new versions with you, looking out at you, all sweaty with your friends, all on the same drugs. I felt the throb of history that’s under this music now, how each year makes these songs feel more like collectively written and sung pieces. I left my body and merged with yours and it was ecstasy. Then I went home to a business hotel and washed the glitter and smoke out of my hair.

Lauren took some beautiful pictures — sharing a few with you here.

Backstage in Portugal.

Cute Polaroid series of the 6pm, 8pm, and 10pm versions of me on a show day.

I’ve read some great books recently, including Drive Your Plow over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk, Speedboat by Renata Adler, Motherhood by Sheila Heti, Rough Translations by Molly Giles (brought into my life by sweet angel bookworm Chris Chang), Birds of America by Lorrie Moore; am waiting on my copies of ĀRIA by Jessica Hinerangi and Te Ana Ata: Menstruation In The Pre-Colonial Maori World by Ngāhuia Murphy. Was given Wawata - Moon Dreaming by Dr. Hinemoa Elder which I’m loving looking to as the Maramataka evolves.

It was Te Wiki o Te Reo Māori last week, I loved listening to this from London. This vid from Hemi showing the similarities between te reo Māori and ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi is so sick.

Been meaning to tell you about The Kindness Institute too, a mental health resource for Māori rangatahi that has recently lost government funding. Go check out the beautiful, necessary mahi they’re doing — I know the cost of living is cooked for Kiwis right now and pop stars asking people to donate sux, but if you work at a good sized company maybe you can wrangle a donation from your employers?! I’m gonna email my record company about it.

Other bits that have inspired lately:

Dieter Rams’ principle of “as little design as possible”. This fantastic interview with Thom Yorke. Maddie’s unbelievably beautiful Melo inspired tattoo.

Loving the beautiful new Troye songs and vids, Kelela’s Raven hitting right on the e-bike rides home, late to the magic of Frou Frou but glad I’m here, and the rest of my brain is M.T. Hadley, this great Te Whanganui-a-Tara based band Womb, and Talk Talk. And for those it concerns, have been pilled by parasocial big cousins Jason and Chris. My mum just sent me a Sylvia Plath poem that feels like it sums up the above, I’ll copy it here:

They thought death was worth it, but I Have a self to recover, a queen. Is she dead, is she sleeping? Where has she been, With her lion-red body, her wings of glass?

Now she is flying More terrible than she ever was, red Scar in the sky, red comet Over the engine that killed her— The mausoleum, the wax house.

Sylvia Plath, "Stings"

Hope you’re taking care of yourself. Don’t worry about me, I still laugh every day, it’s all moving, even when it goes slow. I’ve accepted the mission — I have a self to recover.

Speak soon, E X X X X X

(source: received this email)

[pedrotonin]

THE TOUCH OF YOU

Paring: Joel Miller x F!reader

Summary: You just wanted to have a look, that's all. And now there's an arrangement and you desperately want to touch Joel, but he doesn't let you.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Wordcount: 5k

Warnings: Oral sex (both m and f receiving) P in V. Basically, just porn with a tiny bit of plot (if you squint hard enough).

A/N: English is not my first language. If you spot any bad mistakes, please feel free to message me.

You stroll through the few streets Jackson has to offer. Bored out of your mind, no idea where to go, what to do. You used to work at the tiny supply store run by Tommy and his wife, but Tommy caught you stealing last week and fired you on the spot. Over a simple magazine, unbelievable. You wanted to read the damn thing and return it the next day, but he wouldn't have it. Told you you should have asked him, and yes, you should have, but you didn't think it would be such a big deal. The main reason for taking it without asking though, was because it had been an erotic magazine from the eighties. You could only imagine the look on his face when he would've found out that's what you wanted to bring home with you.

Construction sounds float across the street and you walk towards it without thinking, ending up in front of Tommy's house, his two feet stick from underneat his porch. The perfect opportunity presenting itself. You can tell him why you didn't want him to know about the magazine and you can do so without having to look him in the eye. He'll understand, maybe he'll even give you your job back. Worth the shot!

"Tommy?"

No answer, you try again.

"Tommy? Listen, about that magazine..."

"Hm?" he acknowledges you.

"Look, I'm really sorry for not asking you about it, but you know, it being an erotic magazine," you almost whisper the last two words and a fake laugh escapes you. Jezus, this is hard, your face feels like it's on fire.

"Look, I'm not a thief, I just needed to...wanted to, you know, have a look."

He scoots from beneath the porch with a grunt and stands in front of you. Only...it isn't Tommy. It's his older brother, Joel, with a shit eating grin across his face. His plaid shirt is unbuttoned at the top, sweat dripping from his hair, to his neck, down into his shirt. Fuck.

"Where's Tommy?" you ask, not meeting his eye.

"Workin'. Doing your old job, I recon," Joel replies, while he uses the bottom of his shirt to whipe the sweat from his face, revealing golden skin, a slight tummy and a happy trail you can't help but follow with your eyes.

Maybe he didn't hear your confession from his postion beneath the porch. Maybe he-

"So, you wanted some alone time with a filthy magazine, sugar?"

Shit, so he did hear you...

"'S'okay, we all do once in a while," he smirks, leaning against the porch railing.

"No! I just, I just wanted to have a look. That's all!"

"Sure."

You look at his face and find his eyes dark, skimming over your body. Clearing your throat, you mumble your goodbyes and all but run from him. The audacity of this man, unbelievable.

When you close your front door you rest against it, out of breath and cheeks still on fire. Did that really happen? You can only pray that Joel won't tell Tommy. You don't know him very well, but from the stories you heard, he seems like an asshole. A very handsome asshole, unfortunately. Probably best if you stay indoors for the rest of the day.

Goddamn magazine.

A few hours later you wake from your slumber on the couch. Was there a knock on your door? You sit and listen. Just to be sure you open the door, and there, on your little welcome mat, lies the magazine. You quickly grab it and look around, but the street's empty. You stare at the little booklet. What the fuck. This must be Joel's doing. When you flip it around, a piece of paper falls out and flutters towards the ground. You catch it.

- here's your chance to have a 'look'.

Yep. Definitely Joel.

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the magazine untouched on your kitchen table. You don't want to give him the pleasure. Or yourself, for that matter. This whole thing is getting way out of hand. You go to sleep without looking, not even so much as taking a peek.

The next morning there's a knock on your door again. This time there's definitely somebody there. The knocking continues and you open the door just a fraction to find Joel standing in front of it.

"Mornin'" he says, "sleep well?"

The stupid lopsided grin on his face angers you to the bone. You're about to slam the door in his face, but he beats you to it. A strong hand forces the door open and before you know it he's walking past you into your livingroom. What the?

You leave to front door open, grab the magazine and throw it at him.

"Get out and take this with you!" you snarl.

He doesn't move and opens the magazine.

"You made yourself come looking at this?" he asks.

Wow, crude! You can't believe he said that! He's holding up the magazine for you to see and it's the first time you actually see the inside of it. The picture is of a woman on top of a man, riding him, her head thrown back in pleasure. Christ, you didn't expect it to be so grafic!

"What? No! You pervert! I didn't even open it!", you cross your arms over your chest.

"Now get out."

"No? Shame. It's a good edition, this one," he shrugs and shows you another page.

A woman sitting on the edge of a bed, her legs spread wide and a man on his knees in front of her. His mouth devouring her.

"This is my favorite," he tells you.

Your eyes widen, your heart almost bursts out of your chest.

"Why?" you blurt out. It's the first word that comes to your mind and you immediately regret saying it out loud. You don't want to have a conversation with him about this!

"Why? Because I fuckin' love doing this. It's my favorite thing. I could do it all day. I would do it to you. I'd fuckin' love to. You only need to ask, darlin'."

Your mouth opens, closes, opens. What? What did he just say? Your brain short-circuits.

Joel walk towards you and puts a finger underneath your chin, gently closing your gaping mouth. He then rips the page out of the magazine, and puts it on your kitchen table.

"Think about it."

Then he casually walks out and closes the door behind him. You just stand stand there, blinking. Looking at the door, to the table, to the offending piece of paper laying there. You grab it and shove it into a kitchen drawer. No, wait, you don't want to keep it. You should throw it away, or burn it. Yes, that's exactly what you're going to do! But once it's in your hands, you can't help yourself... you take a look. If you squint a little, the man looks like Joel, the woman like y- No!! You crumple it and get on with your day.

That night, when you lay in bed, your mind starts to wonder. Would it be so bad if you'd let him? You have very little experience. Somebody tried it once after you'd asked him, but after a few seconds he said he didn't like doing it, didn't like the taste. It made you feel very insecure and after that one time, you never let it happen again. Told the guys who wanted to go down on you, it wasn't your thing. But truth is, you'd love to know what it would feel like and Joel did say it's his favorite thing to do. You start to imagine what it would be like with him. What it would feel like. His face between your legs, gripping his curly hair, his tongue deep inside you. You gasp as you feel your pussy throb. You swing your legs over the side of your bed and walk towards your livingroom. After a short search you find the crumpled piece of paper underneat your couch. Taking it with you to the bedroom, you slowly unfold it. You make yourself come twice. And when you wake in the morning, you're still feeling needy and make yourself come again. This repeats itself for 3 days.

You must talk to Joel.

You find him on his front porch, drinking coffee, reading a book. He doesn't look up when he greets you.

"Mornin'"

"Morning."

This is hard. You practiced this conversation in your head a million times, but now he's actually in front of you, only silence fills your brain.

"Can I help you, darlin'?" he asks, closing his book.

"I- I just want to..."

He stands and opens his front door.

"Come inside."

He steps inside and when you follow he closes the door behind you. You just stand there looking at him like a fool.

"Coffee?" he offers.

"No," you reply. "I came here to...ask you...if you w-" you take a deep breath.

"Yes?"

"Did you mean what you said, Joel?"

He's catching on straight away.

"I'd love nothing more," he's dead serious. "Is that why you're here?"

You hold up the crumpled piece of paper and his eyes darken. He puts his empty cup in the kitchen sink and takes your hand. Slowly turning you around, he grabs your shoulder and gently pushes you into one of the wooden chairs. Taking the paper, he lays it on the table for you to see, then he lowers himself onto his knees in front of you.

"Joel, ha!" a nervous laugh escapes you, "you really want to do this right n-"

"Yes."

He puts his hands on your knees, gliding them up towards your thighs, taking the fabric of your summer dress with them. Then his hands go to the inside of your thighs and back to your knees, slowly spreading your legs.

You bite your lower lip, your fingers gripping the armrests.

He scoots a little closer, bringing his face in between your legs. His nose rubs you through your panties and he lets out a soft moan. You feel yourself getting wet. He must feel it too.

"Been thinking about this every night," he murmers against you. "Can't fuckin' think of anything else."

One of his hands pushes your panties to the side and his fingers slide over you. Your eyes close and a whimper escapes you. He flicks his tongue against you and moans. The sound vibrating against your clit. Your hands fist into his hair and you grind yourself against his mouth.

"So wet already, fuckin' delicious," he slurs.

And that's how it begins. And about an hour and 6 orgasms later, he stops. Not because he wants to, but because you can't take it any more. Your hair is plastered to your face, sweat running down your neck, your legs shaking, the muscles tense and sore. His head rests on one of your thighs, his eyes are closed and he looks utterly content. His mustache and beard are glistening with your juices.

"Joel?"

He opens his eyes.

"Hm?"

"You want me to return the favor?"

He smiles and stands, taking your hand.

"No, s'okay. Let me walk you back to your house."

You're confused, but too tired to argue or ask him about it. So you let him help you to your feet and hold onto him as he walks you back to your house.

It turns into an 'arrangement' of sorts. When you feel needy, you go to him. No words needed. He takes you inside and eats you out until you scream for him to stop. He never comes to your house, and he never asks for anything in return. Always turns you down when you offer.

As time passes, his refusal to receive is driving you crazy. Because he won't let you touch him, you want it more than anything. He's on your mind 24/7. You want to seek him out daily, but you resist the temptation, trying to minimize it to 2 or 3 times a week. It's been 2 days and you're already squirming in your seat. You'll go to him today, and you will ask him about it.

He sees you coming and opens his door with a grin. You sit on the chair, it's the routine, but before he can drop to his knees, you cross your legs. The motion stops him, confuses him.

"Please, sit," you point towards another chair. "I want to ask you something."

He gives you a stern look, but sits down. One of his eyebrows raise while he waits for you to continue.

"I was wondering. Is there a reason you never want anything in return? Is it not working anymore?" you gesture towards his crotch.

At first he just looks at you, blinking a few times, then he chokes, his hand covering his mouth, and then....he starts to laugh. Out loud for christ sake! The rich sound of it echoes through the room. You stare at him, it was a serious question.

"It is working just fine, baby."

He goes to stand in front of you, ready to drop to his knees again, but you're not done with this conversation yet.

"I want you, Joel."

He looks down at you, an emotion you can't identify crosses briefly over his face, but then he shakes his head and it's gone.

"No. You don't."

You touch his stomach, but he flinches away from you. With his back towards you, he starts to breathe heavily. What is going on?

"You don't want me. You don't know me. You don't know the things I've done. I don't deserve it." He turns around again, but he doesn't look at you.

What is he talking about? You raise your hand again, an unbearable need to touch him, to comfort him consuming you, but he puts up a hand to stop you.

"Don't. "

You rise and the both of you stand in front of eachother awkwardly. He runs a hand over his face and you fiddle with the seem of your dress.

"Look. We either continue like this, or we don't continue at all," his voice sounds strained.

You look him up and down. Slowly shaking your head.

"No, please, Joel" you whisper.

He shakes his head and the look he gives you almost makes you change your mind, but you turn around and walk out of his house, out of this arrangement. You need time, time to make Joel Miller accept your touch. For him to enjoy being on the receiving end. You keep walking and don't look back.

Two weeks pas. Three weeks pas. You're working again. Tommy came to your house last week, said he had overreacted and offered you your job back. You have no idea if Joel had anything to do with it, you haven't seen him since your last encounter. The need to seek him out is almost overwhelming at this point. You can think of nothing else. Your job's providing you with much needed distraction during the day, but during the evenings and nights...he's all you can think about.

You haven't come up with a sollution yet. How to convince somebody to be on the receiving end of sex. Ha! Even saying it in your mind sounds ridiculous.

The little bell next to the door shimes, signaling a customer. You look up to find Joel standing in the doorway, his gaze already on you. You stare at eachother for a good few seconds, before he walks in and grabs a box of rusty old nails. He places it on the counter, not meeting your eye.

"These, please."

You wait for him to look at you again, but he won't.

"Joel, I-"

He starts talking at the exact same moment, interrupting you.

"Please, come see me after work?"

You nod while he gives you a once over before storming out of the shop. The box of nails left untouched on the counter.

You leave 5 minutes early, freshen up and put on a nice dress. Convincing yourself it's not for practical reasons, but just to look nice.

He's on his porch, waiting for you. His shoulders relax a little when he spots you, like he was afraid you wouldn't show up.

"Hi."

"Hi."

He opens his door, and you enter, but once inside you're not sure what to do. Do you sit on one of the wooden chairs? Are you both going to pretend nothing happened? Will you sit on his couch? Or maybe you should just stand here and wait for him to make the first move? You choose the latter.

He's nervous, you can tell. His hands are everywhere: in his hair, touching his neck, removing imaginary lint from his clothes. He clears his throat.

"I miss you," he shakes his head and groans. "No, fuck. I mean, I miss our arrangement."

"I do too, Joel"

"Then why didn't you come to me?" he looks almost desperate.

"I want you to get something out of this as well and -."

"I do! I told you, I love doing it," he interrupts you, becoming frustrated.

"and I want to touch you, Joel."

He puts up his hands in defeat, groaning.

"Fuck," he hisses. "I already told you I don't...I can't."

"Yes you can. Just let me, please."

He turns to face you again. You can see his resolve starting to crumble a little.

"If you don't like it, we can stop."

"That's exactly the problem... I will like it. I know I will, and then I'll want more. And I don't deserve that. I always fuck things up. Or you will die on me and -"

He stops himself, he said too much, you can see it in his eyes. He's angry at himself, angry for his blabbering.

He walks towards the kitchen and his hands grip the counter, turning his knuckles white.

He's staring out the window, probably remembering things from the past. After a while his breathing becomes shallow. He's having a panick attack, you recognize them all too well.

You slowly approach, waiting for him to acknowledge your presence behind him. He doesn't, so you lightly touch his shoulder. He doesn't flinch this time, but you can feel his muscles tense. He looks sideways to your hand, confused as to why it's there. You glide it slowly towards his bicep, he allows it. And then, you throw all caution in the wind as you step into him as your arms wind themselves around his waist, your head rests against his back as you hold him. He doesn't move, doesn't even breathe, so you tell him to.

"Breathe, Joel. Just breathe".

The breath he was holding, leaves him in a big sigh and you feel him slowly start to relax in your arms. His shoulders drop and one of his hands folds over one of yours, keeping it in place. The other's still gripping the counter.

You stay like this for a couple of minutes, untill Joel's breathing is mimicking yours. Calm and even. What happens next is something you didn't expect. He turns around, facing you, and after a moment of contemplating, he suddenly hugs you back. One of his hands slides around your waist and the other tangles in your hair, while he molds you against him. He lowers his head so his face rests against your neck and he breathes you in. You stroke his back with one hand, his hair with the other. After a while he pulls back and looks at you. Almost reluctantly, you take a step back. You smile, but his face stays completely serious.

"I will come back tomorrow."

He nods and there is it: a smile. Albeit a little one, it's still a smile. He opens the door and when you walk pass him, he lightly touches your shoulder.

The hours go by ever so slowly. No customers to distract you, only your own treacherous thoughts.

One hour to go and you already can't take it anymore.

The bell chimes and you look up to find Joel marching towards you. His eyes dart around the store, searching for other customers. When he finds none, he grabs your arm and walks you to the little back room.

"Joel? What are y-"

He closes the door, and before you can finish your sentence, he spins you in his arms, pushing you against the door.

"Joel?"

"Couldn't wait any longer," he murmers against the top of your head.

You expect him to kiss you, or drop to his knees, but he doesn't....he just holds you. One of his hands strokes your back, while the other is around your neck, pushing your face against his chest. He smells so good. Woody, smokey, strong, masculine.

You stand there for about 5 minutes before he releases you. You look up at him, finding his gaze already upon you. He brings his right hand to your face to put a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb grazing your cheek.

The bell chimes again. Of fuckin' course.

Joel motions for you to enter the shop, while he leaves through the back door. You wait 'til he's gone before you walk back inside to find Tommy looking for you.

"Hey. Have you seen Joel?"

"Nope."

Half an hour to go.

He isn't on his porch like usual, so you knock and wait. After a few knocks, just when you think he isn't home, the door opens and he's there. He showered, his hair's still wet and slicked back. He's wearing a dark denim buttom up with the sleeves rolled up, showing his muscular forearms. God, he's so handsome.

You sit on his couch this time, with him right next to you, manspreading, his knee almost touching yours. You're immensely aware of his presence, his body, his heat, his scent.

"Listen," he begins, "this thing," he gestures between you and him "it's not easy for me."

You nod, don't want to interrupt him.

"I don't deserve you,"

There's so much you want to say, but you remain silent. Taking in his pained expression, you can tell he's struggling. He's a man that doesn't like to talk about things.

"and I should probably let you go, but I can't," he pinches the bridge of his nose and scoffs.

"I'm a selfish motherfucker."

"I don't want anyone else, Joel."

He looks at you and shakes his head.

"You should darlin', you really, really should."

You scoot towards him. Slinging your left leg over his left thigh, leaning into him.

"But I don't."

His hand starts to stroke your shoulder. His expressive brown eyes seek yours as he leans in and whispers in your ear:

"Then touch me, damnit."

You let your head rest against his chest, angling upwards so your lips graze the underside of his jaw. Your hand starts to slide over his chest, over his stomach, his thigh. His head falls back against the couch, his mouth opens and his breathing speeds up. Your mouth latches onto his neck, your tongue laving avainst the little bitemarks you leave. Sitting up a bit more, you bring your mouth to his ear, while your hand ghosts over the prominent bulge in his jeans. Earning you a low groan. Oh, how you dreamed about this.

"You okay?" you whisper in his ear, licking his lobe.

He turns his head sideways and his lips find yours. He kisses your bottom lip and then he swipes his tongue over your top lip. You gasp at the sensation and he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth.

"Hmm, s'good, baby," he murmers against you.

His hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, pulling you on top of him. His hands grab your ass as he guides you over his hard cock. You grind against him and he stops kissing you, instead looking into your eyes while he grunts with each trust of your hips.

Much to your frustration his hands suddenly disappear from your body, as he stands and grasps your arm, yanking you towards his bedroom.

"You're supposed to touch me," he grins as he walks your towards his bed, "not the other way around."

He sits down, spreads his legs and waits.

You don't need any further encouragement. Getting on your knees in front of him, making quick work of his fly and sliding his jeans down. You palm him through his boxers while he strokes your cheek.

You bring your face close to him and gently start to kiss his lenght, enjoying the little moans and hisses that escape him.

"Fuck," Joel groans, "please."

His plea shoots straight to your very core, he's desperate for your touch. Finally.

Your fingers slide underneath the elastic waistband and you push his boxers down, freeing the most beautiful erect cock you've ever seen in your life. He's big, but not overly so. Slightly curved and uncircumcised. A beautiful big vein runs along the side and you lean in to follow it with your tongue, all the way up to his weeping head. He leans back on both his arms, moaning your name with an involuntary trust of his hips.

You take the head into your mouth, gently sucking it, not moving down yet. Your tongue swirling around it and you let your spit dribble down his length, coating him. The sounds he emits make your pussy clench, the need to touch yourself almost overwhelming, but you resist. You never imagined him being so vocal, it's a major turn-on.

Your right hand cradles his balls, while you take him further into your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down, your left hand curling around the lower half of his shaft, pumping.

"Fuck," Joel moans above you.

His hips start to move, meeting your mouth, and one of his hands fists in your hair, but he doesn't pull you towards him. The noises that fill the room make you blush. The wet sound of your sucking, slurping, combined with both of your moans.

"I need more," you say while giving his head a last lick.

"Take it, baby, take it," Joel whispers.

You push down your panties and slip of your dress. Joel's eyes widen at the sight of your naked form. Then you reach for the buttons of his flanel, undoing them one by one. Revealing his tan, gorgeous body. A slight spatter of dark hair covers his chest, his nipples are dark and his slight tummy is rapidly moving while he's struggling to breathe. You take his jeans and boxers and slip them off. The both of you stare at each other for a few seconds. Taking the other in. Then he scoots back and you climb on top of him, pushing your soaking pussy against his hard cock. Gliding your wet lips over his lenght, while his hands grip your hips.

"Sweetheart," he warns.

With a slight angle of your hips, his head is suddenly right at your entrance and you lower yourself. You're so wet, he bottoms out in one thrust. Falling against his chest you need a minute to adjust. It's been a while and Joel's not exactly small. Once you feel your body relax you push yourself up, placing both of your hands on his broad chest. His hands are on your ass, kneading, stroking, his cock deep inside of you. Joel needs more too, his hands now griping your arse and helping you move on top of him. He puts his feet on the matress for leverage and takes over. Fucking you hard. You try to meet his trusts but you can't, falling helplessly against his chest. Your orgasm is approaching, your pussy contracts around him. He feels it too.

"You gonna come for me baby? Fuck yes. Please come, please."

His brutal pace combined with his pleas send you straight over the edge. Your body freezes, your pussy fluttering and squeezing around him. He doesn't stop his movements, chasing his own high. Your slick starts to run down his cock and onto his stomach.

"Joel," you moan.

He pulls out of you and his hot cum splashes on your ass. His eyes squeeze shut while he groans your name. You feel another orgasm building from just looking at him coming undone.

When he finally opens his eyes to look at you, you take his hand, and guide his fingers inside of you. He grunts and starts thrusting them in and out of you while crooking them a bit. When he puts his thumb on your clit, your second orgasm almost hits you immediately. A slight stream of liquid gushes out of you onto his stomach. You fall fowards and he holds you, one hand around your back, one hand in your hair. His fingers gently moving inside you until he's sure you're done.

"Sorry, that never happened before," you whisper against his chest. You're so ashamed you don't dare to look up.

"Baby, don't fuckin' apologize for it," he murmers in your hair. "Fucking hottest thing I've seen in my life. Goin' to explore it some more later."

When you open your eyes, you're confused as to where you are, but then memories of last night flood your mind. Joel holding you against him, stroking your back, you must have fallen asleep.

Rolling onto your side you check if he's still in bed with you. He is. He's on his stomach, head resting on one of his arms, awake, looking at you.

"Hi."

"Hi."

You reach for him, but you're hesitant. He notices and takes your hand, planting little kisses on the inside of your wrist.

"Are you okay?" you ask him.

"Yes, you?"

You lean in untill your lips almost touch his.

"More than okay," you whisper against him before stroking his bottom lip with your tongue.

He grabs you and rolls you onto your back, positioning himself on top of you.

"Turns out I was just a little touch starved," he pushes the head of his growing erection against your already wet folds.

"Let's remedy that," you meet his hips and he moans before kissing you.

"Fuck yes".