#chubby reader x jackson

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ LMLY ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!jackson wang x songwriter!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Summary: On the evening before one of your boyfriend's parties you confess to him that you've been doubting yourself lately and he has his heart set on easing your mind.

♡ Word Count: 1.7k-ish

♡ Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, pet names (baby) & that's about all, bbys

♡ A/N: This is my first Jackson Wang request which I'm really happy about because no one ever really requests/write for him (like, y'all, this man's a certified baddie. let's get it together). Thank you @writhingwrecked for putting this request in. I hope you get the comfort you needed from it!

People usually have one of two ideas about who your boyfriend is. They either categorize him as this dark, brooding artist who’s trapped in the spiral of an existential crisis or some frat boy who spends all of his time partying and drinking. If they took the time they’d see what a sweetheart he is, especially when it comes to you.

Seated opposite you on the couch of his penthouse—one of many he has tucked away in different countries—he keeps your feet balanced in his lap, laser focused on painting your toenails your favorite color. Nothing could possibly be cuter than Jackson is with his hair pulled back into the two tiny space buns you put them in earlier, tongue peeking out from between his lips as he applies the final touches to your nails. 

Tonight Jackson’s having one of his infamous parties, this one on a scenic beach in Thailand. It’ll be the first you’ve attended since joining his songwriting team and your first since the two of you began dating. Anyone who’s anyone will be there and you’re determined to look perfect for it. So, needless to say, you sent yourself into a panic when the nail tech canceled on you last minute.

But it was Jackson to the rescue as always, quieting your fears and insisting that you let him take care of you. That’s the Jackson you know. The one who’ll do anything to keep his girl happy. It gives you butterflies watching him be this patient and attentive with you. It makes your heart race a little faster just feeling his fingers brush your skin as he tilts your foot to inspect his handiwork. 

“That tickles!” you giggle, toes wiggling as he tries to keep you still. 

“Hey, stop that! You’re gonna mess it up” he whines, tickling the arch of your foot on purpose this time. 

You twist away from him, jumping up from the couch to go finish your makeup. There’s two hours until you need to head out for the party and the two of you are still lounging around in your towels. It’s about time you pick up the pace anyway. 

“I don’t have time for this. Some of us have to get ready.” 

Catching you by the arm, he carefully pulls you down onto his lap, peppering kisses all over your face. You resist at first but quickly give up the act, relaxing into his arms to soak up the love he so openly pours into you. “Jackson, I’ll never get dressed if you keep this up.”

Running a hand down to your thigh, he gently rubs it, taking in the beauty of your figure as he does so. “Who says I want you to get dressed?” he asks, the sexy rasp of his voice tickling your cheek. You let out an almost weightless moan at the sensation of his lips skimming your jawline. You rest your hands on his bare chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath, lean muscles flexing beneath your touch.  “Aah, baby, we don’t, mmm, have time for this right now. If I don’t look perfect for this—” 

Jackson tilts his head up, gazing into your eyes, “Don’t say that, you always look perfect.” 

“To you because you love me but…” you sigh, shoulders dropping under the weight of self doubt, “Jackson, I have to look good so at least it seems like I’ve done something to deserve to be there with all those talented people. With you”. 

Jackson sits back on the couch, his brow scrunching at a statement he couldn’t disagree with more. “What are you talking about? You are ‘talented people’. The songs you helped me write are beautiful”. 

“What if no one else thinks so? What if the album drops and everyone hates them? What if…I’m just not good enough?”

“Baby, look at me” he begs, scooping your cheeks into his hands, “You are more than good enough. Don’t you ever question that. You’re here with me because you’re the best of the fucking best, because…”

He clears his throat, choking back the sentimental side of him that has him wanting to tear up. You see it anyway, the moisture across his irises that make them shimmer like raindrops catching sunlight. 

“I doubt myself too,” he confesses, “I fear the future, worry if what I’m doing is enough, but as long as I have an amazing woman who loves me like you do I know it must be.” 

“Why are you trying to make me cry?” you pout, sniffling back tears of your own. 

“No, it’s not that, baby. I just want you to know how special you are and that we’re in this together. You belong here.”

His lips meet yours in a quick, sweet kiss. “You belong anywhere you want to be.” The next kiss lasts longer, your lips parting to welcome his. “And I will literally fight anyone who makes you feel any different.”

You giggle but Jackson doesn’t. He’s a softie but he’s cutthroat when it comes to protecting you. 

“You’re so cute when you’re serious.”

“Hmm? Just cute?” he asks, kissing you with everything he has.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lifts you from the couch, his tongue refusing to leave the fluffy warmth of your cheeks. You shake your head, shivering as the air from the open window blows gently against your now exposed core. “More than cute. Really, really fucking hot.” 

Jackson lays you back on the couch, spreading your legs to slip in between them. “Now who’s being the cute one?” he teases, draping one of your legs over the back of the couch. His right hand moves between the two of you, tracing all the finer details of your pussy. Your slick folds, so soft against his fingertips. Your stiffening clit, twitching as he circles it. Your dripping entrance that clenches at his presence, growing wetter the deeper he kisses you.

“Mmm, I think she wants some attention, baby” he coos, fingers pushing into you, “Can I taste her?” 

Your head falls back against the arm of the couch, eyes fluttering closed as he works his fingers deep into your core. “Yes, please” you moan, nails faintly scraping his shoulders as he ventures down your body. Pushing your towel away, he takes his time massaging your plush figure, praising your form, soothing your worries.

When his head dips between your legs, he kisses your soft inner thigh until his breath’s warming your core. Jackson’s eyes flick up to you, watching all the pretty faces you make as he teases the ridges of your walls. “Oh my god!” you cry, hips lifting from the cushion as he purses his lips around your clit, suckling at the bud with the perfect amount of pressure.

Jackson locks an arm over your waist, gripping your belly as he pins you back down. “Don’t run from me, baby. How am I gonna make you feel good if you can’t keep still?” 

You grab onto the cushion beneath you, pleading with your body to cooperate but she writhes and arches against his hold, simply refusing to listen. Your walls clamp around his fingers, threatening to push them out, but Jackson only sinks them in deeper, your wetness audible as his soaked wrist comes flush against your slit.

“Jackson…” you moan, glancing between your legs to find his face almost completely buried in your pussy. "Hmm?” he hums, staring back at you with those puppy dog eyes you always melt for. Slipping his fingers out, he drives his tongue into you, slurping your juices down, grateful to taste more of you. 

All you’ve done leading up to tonight is live in your head—stressing, worrying, doubting yourself. The pressure of it all was unbearable but gradually it lifts. With every curve of Jackson’s tongue, a sense of euphoria flows through your body, washing away anything that makes you question the woman that you are.

Jackson needs you, can’t get enough of you. Your body. Your spirit. Your mind. This is what you deserve, to lay back and be pleasured, juices flowing down his throat with not a single thing for you to worry yourself about. Nothing except the pulsing in your core, the pressure building inside of you gradually, letting you bask in each level of intensity before being pushed to another.

“Jackson, mmm, close” you moan and Jackson lets go of your belly, reaching up to hold your hand. Your stomach muscles contract at the return of his fingers. There’s more this time, you aren’t even sure how many, but they’re stretching you so wonderfully, hitting your sweet spot every single time.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let it all go” Jackson coos, dragging his tongue up your clit. 

Seeing the love in his eyes, the passion, how badly he wants to please you, sends you crashing over the edge. You hold onto his hand, fingers interlaced with his, and ride out your high, letting your body move as it wishes. Jackson keeps dipping his fingers in and out of you, tongue flicking your clit, until you’ve come back down.

“You feel better, baby?” he asks, resting his head on a thigh more comfy than any pillow.

“Mmhmm” you answer between shallow breaths, “I feel wonderful.”

Jackson smiles, leaving a wet kiss on your other thigh, “We don’t have to go tonight, you know? Not if you don’t want to.”

“Actually, I…I wanna go.”

“Oh? Really?” he asks, equal parts shocked and curious about your newfound excitement for tonight. You sit up to pet his cheek, guiding him on top of you. You feel so safe under the weight of him, comforted by the arms now caging you into your little dip in the couch. 

“You believe in me so much, Jackson.” 

“I do.” 

“So, I guess it can’t hurt for me to try to believe in myself a little.” 

Jackson kisses you on the forehead, the nose, the lips. “And never fear the future. Whatever happens, I've got your back. I’ll do anything for you, you know that?" He shifts between your legs and you feel the head of his cock brush your clit. You bring him in for another kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ya know, I might not wanna skip the party but it’s okay if we’re a little late, isn’t it?”

“Anything” he whispers, hips rocking against you, “For you.”

[philokaliist]

'Lovely'

Clarisse La Rue x Chubby!Fem!Reader hc's

A/N:ILYYY & more hc's soon 💞

So I feel like Clarisse would totally have this tough exterior, but deep down, she's a total softie for her girlfriend, like AHAHSHDH, who would've thought?

I feel like she would always deny being all mushy, but secretly, she's the kind of person who low-key gets jealous if someone else talks to her girl.Like, "Back off, she's mine!" vibes,you know?

She deff calls you names, like "mama/mamas" or "dummy" but in a playful way.

I feel like Clarisse would totally drag her girl into training sessions, being all like, "We gotta stay sharp,mamas. Can't have you getting soft on me." But deep down, it's just an excuse to spend more time together.

But imagine Clarisse getting protective during Capture the Flag.Like, she's a total beast on the battlefield, and if anyone even thinks about targeting her chubby girlfriend, they better watch out. "Touch her, and you'll regret it, losers."

She deff calls you... "Her Battle Buddy" or something like that. I mean, come on, it's Clarisse – everything is a battle, even love.

She deff has a secret stash of cute couple photos in her cabin, but she'll flat-out deny it if anyone asks. "What? No way. That's not mine." But like, you catch her looking at them when she thinks no one's around.

I feel like Clarisse would totally surprise her girl with handmade weapons, pretending like it's just another day. "Yeah, I was bored, so I made you this dagger. Don't get all sappy about it."

Honestly,I feel like she would have this thing where she insists on being the big spoon, but she'd grumble about it like, "Ugh, fine. You're lucky I even like holding you." But secretly, she loves it.

I feel like Clarisse would totally get all flustered if someone teased her about her girlfriend, but she'd cover it up with her tough-girl act. "Shut up! She's not that great. Stop looking at me like that."

OMG, she'd be the first to defend her girl,like if someone makes a comment about her weight, Clarisse would go full-on rage mode. "Say that again, and I'll make sure you regret it for the rest of your life!" And she'd obviously kick their ass into next week.

She deff has a special spot by the campfire where she and her girlfriend hang out, but she'd deny having a "spot." "We just sit here 'cause it's not too crowded. It's not a spot or anything."

I feel like Clarisse would totally steal her girl's hoodies and act like it's just because she's cold. "You got too many of these things, might as well put 'em to good use." But deep down, she loves the scent of her on the hoodie.

OMG, she'd have this signature eye-roll whenever someone tries to give relationship advice. "Please, I've got this under control. I don't need your sappy wisdom." But secretly, she low-key appreciates the advice.

She deff has a playlist of love songs hidden away, but if anyone finds out, she'd be like, "What? No way, those songs just happened to be on when I was training!" But you catch her humming them sometimes.

I feel like Clarisse would totally take her girl on surprise late-night walks around camp, acting like it's just to check on security. "Gotta make sure no monsters are sneaking in." But really, it's just about spending time together.

DHSKDJ, imagine Clarisse accidentally leaving little notes with cheesy messages around her girlfriend's bunk. "Just happened to drop this here. Don't read too much into it." But she secretly hopes her girl finds and appreciates them.

She definitely uses you as weigh when training and shows off how strong she is and if you tell her you think you're too heavy for her she'd be all like "Shut up,idiot!You're a lightweight comparing to what I usually lift!" But she'd secretly try to make you feel better about yourself.

She 100% uses your chest or your thighs as pillows when sleeping,and she enjoys wrapping her arms around your waist and stomach.It gives her a nice feeling and she would get all pissy in the morning if you left during the night or moved away.She just loves her hugs and cuddles! Besides,you'd be her fav pillow.

A/N:Honestly I feel like Clarisse would deff be like 'the bigger,the better' and she'd love you no matter what size you are 🥹

[number-onekidqueen]

heyy !! i hope ur doing well (: can you write a luke x gn!reader where they are chubbier and short and luke Lovess the height x size difference but they thinks like making fun of them but in reality he’s just teasing ): they open up to him about past issues regarding that and he comforts them and says he’ll protect them ): maybe a bit of protective!luke

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐲?

Luke castellan x gn!chubbier!shorter reader

Summary: Luke loves to talk about all your physical differences and how you still fit together perfectly. But you have a few bad memories. 

Anon, I am sooooo sorry this took so long, I've had a mad case of writer's block lately, and I no time. It's kinda short and sweet (if you get what I mean *wink*) but I hope this is what you were picturing, and that you enjoy <3

warnings: mentions of fatphobia, mentions of insecurity, panic, teasing.

“Hey shawty!” 

Immediately, you stiffened. Even if you recognised the voice as one you trusted - Luke, your boyfriend of nearly a year, who you loved dearly - the nickname still made you feel cold all over. But Luke didn't mean the nickname in that way, you were sure.

Right?

You didn't have much time to ponder it however as a warm hand materialised around your waist, pulling you into him. You let the sandwich you had been making for lunch settle onto the table, freeing your arms so you could reciprocate his embrace, although rather stiffly.

"How you been?" He murmured into your hair, while he peppered kisses on your scalp. And then he noticed. He pulled away from you, still gripping your shoulders but gazing at you with concern. "What's wrong?"

You decided to drop it. He wouldn't have meant it that way. Even if your boyfriend before had, Luke wouldn't do something like that. "Nothing," you replied, forcing a smile, "you just caught me by surprise is all."

There was a pause in which he scanned your face, searching for signs you weren't telling the truth. He still appeared wary, but he seemed to let it slide for the moment, scooping up your sandwich plate and tugging you along to his table. Loud greetings hooted about, as his fellow Hermes siblings noted his and your appearance.

Your suspicions were confirmed as you sat, after saying hello to everyone, when he clasped his hand in yours, resting it on his knee. This was something he always did when you were feeling overwhelmed or sad, to reassure you that he was always there. He hadn't been convinced by your facade then. Damn.

Beginning to eat your sandwich, you were wincing at the near-stale texture of the bread, and how hard and dry it was in your mouth. Chiron must be running on his last few loaves and forgot to get extra supplies. You were glad for the distraction of Chris, who was always happy to explain his schemes with grand theatrics, and hand gestures that often tipped over glasses. That and Luke's wild laughter from beside you got you through the unpleasant meal.

"-and you won't believe what happened next, and even though it is coming from me, it was pretty damn impressive-"

"Ok man, I'm gonna interrupt your yap session right there while I can. Anyone getting seconds?" Luke asked, holding up his own plate.

"No dude, I'm sooooooo full, how are you not?" Chris groaned, laughing.

"He didn't steal my bag of jerky, Rodriguez!" Someone down the table accused.

"Hey, that was in the middle of the cabin floor, it was fair game!-"

"I'll have some," you volunteered, turning to Luke, and accepting his hand to help you rise from the benches.

"See, lucky I can be a big back with them!" He laughed, walking away with you and back to the table filled with food.

You weren't hungry anymore, at all. Every delicious, hot meal on the table that had tantalised you only moments before now seemed like soggy sticks. Luke had mentioned stuff about your body twice now, in such a short period. You were sure he meant it now. He must be just like your ex in that respect, even if he had treated you better. He felt the same as your ex had done. Even after all this time, your body wasn't good enough- you weren't good enough-

"Hey, you can't decide? Try the macaroni, I just had a bit and oh my Gods-"

"Uh- I don't really feel too hungry anymore." You said awkwardly, gulping down your insecurity.

"Ok," he said slowly, and there was his brown eyes again, deep and full of questioning. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's all fine just... not hungry." You smiled weakly, praying he would drop it as he did earlier. Your stomach rumbling punctuated the silence. He frowned at you, second helping forgotten and pulled you to the side of the dining pavilion, near some dense bushes where you wouldn't be seen.

"Hey. Please tell me what's going on," he begged, squeezing your hand. When you looked in his eyes, you knew you were a goner. You cracked.

"Do you still- like-like- do you still like me?" you mumbled, gazing down at your feet.

"What do you mean?" He asked, confused, "Y/N, I love you, so yeah, of course I still like you."

“I- just- I- I know you didn’t mean any harm and I know you only meant to tease, but it just reminds me of my ex sometimes.”

"Wait, what? What does?" He urged, pulling you closer.

"Just the... you know, like little comments- it's just-it's kinda like the stuff he used to say that hurt my feelings."

He pulled away from you, face hardening. 

“What did he say to you?”

“It was nothing, just he commented on my weight constantly and how much shorter I was than him and sometimes- look it doesn't really matter. It's just that the 'hey shawty' and 'big back' and all that, it shouldn't, it's stupid of me, but it reminds me of him... and like, I know it was a mistake dating a guy that was older in the first place, but the biggest mistake I made was letting him say the stuff he said."

"Don't you dare call yourself stupid," he began sternly, "because if anyone here is, it's me. My gods, baby, I'm so sorry I said stuff like that, it was just a joke or a little pet name to me, I-I didn't know it reminded you of that-ugh, if I had known I would've bleached my mouth out."

You laughed a little, and his face brightened.

"You know I don't wanna be anything like him, right? Man, if he was here I might have a hard time stopping from doing something to him, what a dick."

Laughing again, you nodded, smiling at him.

"And, you know you're also perfect right? Like who cares if you're shorter or a different shape to me? That's what makes you, like you, and I love you for all of it."

He kissed you swiftly, sweetly. It was warm, and you were both smiling through it. He was Luke, not your crusty ex that had broken contact the minute he got accepted to college. And he would always love you for who you were, you were sure of that now.

He broke apart, your noses brushing. "I love you," he whispered, each syllable falling softly on your upper lip.

"I love you too," you whispered back. He backed away reluctantly, holding your hands in both of his tightly.

"Ok, let's get you some macaroni now, because I'm not kidding when I say that it hits-"

And you let him lead you back to the chaotic normality of camp, with all of the delicious food and comforting people you loved.

[woodle-isbae]

It's just rivalry

Jackson marchetti x male!black!reader

Warning: smut , Hand job , kinda hate sex , Dom reader?, two pretty boys just doing pretty boy things ❗️

A/N : I won't be proof reading most of my stuff UNLESS I plan on writing a fic , so this one isn't proof read either 😍

You and Jackson were known to be rivals , academically and athletically. Always doing something more than the other to look better.

What everyone didn't know , is that you guys casually hookup. After each competition you both attend , you guys dissapear of to Jackson's house.

The click of the door locking set you off , pouncing on him and attacking him with you lips , kissing him and down his jaw

"We need to be more-ah- quiet this time , my moms nearly found out last time."

Ignoring his words you continued your attack on his skin , removing both yalls shirts , giving you more access. Your hand diving down into his pants , stroking his clothed erection.

"Shit-wait , that's not fair."

"I don't play fair Marchetti , you know that."

He threw his head back , groaning at the sensation of your fingers, one hand in your curly hair and the other gripping the sheets of the bed beneath him

"Fuck..I need to see you."

Removing his pants and boxers along with yours , both of you equality exposed and aroused. Continuing your feverish kisses while you jerked him off faster , taking in the sounds he was making

"If you continue..I'm gonna -oh shitt- cum."

His please falling onto deaf ears , smirking against his lips before you halted your movements just as he was about to make a mess

"Wouldn't be fair if your the only one cumming now is it?"

"Ironic."

You scoffed at his words and moved closer to him , grabbing his hand and placing it on your aching cock , letting him get a few pumps in before doing the same to him.

"Yeah..just like thatt-ahh- good."

Minutes go past and your both ready to burst , hands moving faster and your lips barely closed as your groans and grunts filled the room

"Oh shitt, I'm gonna-fuuckk"

"Yeah? Oh fuck yesss"

Your orgasm shared as you came all over eachother , coating your hands and abdomen , letting go of eachother to kiss one last time before cleaning up.

"I won the competition tonight and lasted longer than you ,,, your really off your game tonight"

"Oh shut the fuck up"

[dirtywresling102]

I need something, ANYTHING with Matt Jackson. Could you do Matt x f! Plus size Reader? Maybe they met when Matt was being dumped by the girl he thought he was going to marry. They became like best friends, but have now fallen in love with one another but are scared of the other’s reaction. Maybe she doesn’t think love is in her future ever, no matter how she feels about Matt. Thanks!!

Pairing: Matt Jackson x Plus Size!Female!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heartbreak.

Imagines: Open

*I gotchu Anon! Also this gif of Matt is ADORABLEE!*

"Bro, I'm never going to find someone." You sighed kicking a rock that was in your path, you watched it skip down the street a few feet only for it to hit the curb and spin to a stop.

"Come on, Y/N. Don't be like that. There's a lot of guys out there waiting to meet you." Your best friend, Matt Jackson nudged his shoulder against you to cheer you up.

"I don't know." You mumbled. When you heard your best friend was back in town from wrestling all over the states you instantly text him to hang where he gave you a call and said why not now? So, here you were almost two in the morning. The streets were quiet, no one was in sight and the street lights buzzed up above you. "I'm a little bit heavier if you haven't noticed." You pointed out.

"You know, you could be like me." Matt chuckled awkwardly. "About to marry the person you've been with for nearly a decade only to find out that they were cheating half the time."

It grew silent as you both walked side by side. You never knew what to say when that topic was brought up. "But someone amazing did come into my life during that time."

Your head snapped towards Matt who was grinning at you, his beard covering his cheeks. You couldn't help but to blush and look down. "I'm glad that I arrived at the right moment."

The both of you continued to walk towards your apartment. Your eyes kept darting towards Matt's hand hanging by your side, swaying with each step. Cold sweats broke out as you thought about holding his hand, your heart raced. What if he pulled it away in disgust or what if he doesn't feel the same?

As you fought with yourself in your mind, Matt too was fighting with himself to kiss you once at your front door.

Walking up the steps to your apartment you both stopped in front of each other. "Well, this is my stop." You looked up at the porch light, moths flying around the little heated lamp.

Matt nodded, watching you reach for the door knob. "Y/N?"

"Yes?" You answered quickly, eyes sparkling.

You could see Matt's adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. "Have a nice night."

[joelsmochi]

come get this pollen - joel miller

pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: with tommy hosting the bbq this year, that leaves joel in charge of one thing: you. inspired by this tweet | can be read by itself, but if you crave more beekeeper!joel read parts one & two ;) warnings: 18+ bc smut duh, not proofread, reader being reckless & gross in front of Sarah (let us pls remember & acknowledge how unrealistic this dynamic is 🙏🏽🙏🏽), joel is a perv what’s new?, honey play (yeast infections don’t exist in this timeline heheheheheh), brief breeding kink, oral (m+f), overstimulation, unprotected rough piv, pet names, sort of? established relationship, catching people and getting caught, joel "disciplining" you and absolutely slutting you out!!!!!!!, a little bit of corny humor at the end word count: 3.7k a/n: erm... ik it's late but i literally started writing this the morning AFTER the fourth ijbol. final part i will plan for this series for now but i’m always open for requests <3

series masterlist | main masterlist

♡

You greeted Tommy and Maria at Joel's door with smiles and hugs, noticing the pair of chubby cheeks attached to the woman's hip.

"And who's this little fella?" You cooed, reaching for the baby once Maria held him out for you.

"This is Jackson," Maria answers. "He'll be six months in a few days."

With wide eyes you smile at the gleaming baby now resting on your waist, cooing little praises at him and bouncing your body to earn a few giggles. "Well you are just the cutest little thing I've ever seen, yesyouare."

You catch up with the couple and walk around Joel's house for just a few minutes until Jackson started reaching for Maria; you said bye-bye and made your way up to Sarah's bedroom.

"Sarah do y—EW!"

You slammed the door shut and stood frozen in the hallway, ignoring Sarah's protests for you to knock on a closed door next time.

"Sorry, I forget you can't exactly white-sock-it at your dad's house," you begrudgingly joked.

Sarah whipped the door open with a pissed off look plastered on her face, her boyfriend having a seemingly more embarrassed look.

"What do you need?"

With a grimace you asked, "Do you still have that dress that I left over here last weekend?"

She rolled her deep brown eyes, knowing you were just trying to catch her father's perverted eye, and stomped away, leaving her distressed and disheveled boyfriend in your view. He awkwardly smiled and offered a wave that just made you want to crawl into a hole and die, but you opted to stiffly smile back.

Before you could register anything else the dress was being thrown into your face and the door was slammed shut again.

"Bitch," you mumbled underneath your breath as you walked into the bathroom.

You shimmied out of your American Eagle shorts and tank top; slipping into the short dress, you couldn't help but notice how bunched up your underwear looked beneath the fabric. You tried pulling them up higher, folding the hem, hell you even gave yourself the world's deepest wedgie just to fail at concealing the grey article of clothing.

You grunted, really not wanting to wear those shorts again because your thighs seemed to swallow the hems whole every time you sat down, but what else would conceal your seamless panties that decided to appear as granny panties today?

You could ask Sarah for a pair, but that was just weird. You could just deal with it, but you knew you wouldn't stop thinking about it. You could just go commando, but...

"Fuck it," you mumbled when you couldn't think of a con to go without undergarments.

You slithered out of your panties and wrapped your clothes around them, discarding them in Joel's room on your way back downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Hey, 'bout time you found me," he greeted.

He glanced out of the patio door, sneaking a kiss with you when no one was watching.

"Sorry. I was saying hi to Sarah and Alex," you lied.

"Mmm, you smell good," he said against your lips after catching a whiff of your shampoo. "Look good too. You want somethin' to drink?"

You trailed behind him to the fridge, wrapping your arms around his soft waist. "Yeah, but it's not gonna be in there," you teased.

He chuckled, pulling out an iced tea for you, and not responding. He’s playing hard to get.

“Mm,” you hummed, stepping onto your tippy toes to brush your lips against the shell of his ear. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

He chuckled, poker face in full effect. “Good girl,” was the last thing he said before walking into the hallway towards the backyard, leaving a disappointed you in the kitchen alone.

The day went by slow enough, and yet you were unable to find that window of opportunity to get Joel alone. He was constantly helping or talking to someone — holding the baby so Maria could go get the door. Preparing more burger patties for Tommy. Offering a smile or two to women who expressed interest in him, or a laugh about golf with the men.

You were stuck listening to Sarah’s friends from college rant and rave about… Whatever they were into. You genuinely tried to listen but it was hard to keep up with how many like’s and literally’s and bro’s and duh’s they felt the need to use.

Alex called your name, catching your attention. “Why don’t you and my boy Johnnie hang out sometime? You’re single right?”

A stiff smile tugged on your cheeks, and your eyes flickered to Sarah for help, but her’s only widened slightly.

“Uh, no. No. Not single,” you blabbered. “Sorry.”

“Oh— well, who’re dating?”

“Uhhhhhhhh… He’s an older guy, you wouldn’t really know him.”

“Oh,” Alex said.

“H-how much older?” Johnnie chimed in, looking a little bummed.

You accidentally laughed, unable to contain your nerves. “Like… Fifties,” you said too quietly.

“Huh?”

“Firework time!” Tommy shouted.

“Thank, God,” both you and Sarah said to each other.

“Sorry!” She said after jogging to stand next to you. “I totally fucking blanked.”

“It’s fine,” you exhaled, “I just couldn’t come up with a better lie.”

“Wait, so are you dating my dad?”

You shrugged. “Eh. It’s not official if that’s what you mean.”

“I just wanna make sure I’m not gonna have to choose between my best friend and my dad,” she explained.

“You’d totally pick me though. Right?” You asked hopefully, looking at her with wide eyes.

“Totally,” she repeated with a warm smile.

You looked through the small crowd in seek of Joel, finding him standing on the left side of whatever explosive his brother was packing into the ground. His eyes found yours and he gave you a subtle smile, eyes trailing over the dress that squeezed your breasts and hugged your waist. He shot you a wink before reluctantly looking away, playfully flicking the lighter in his dominant hand.

“Is it cool if I stand go see your dad?” You asked.

“Don’t leave me with them, they’ll ask questions,” Sarah quietly pleaded with a strong tug on your arm.

“Then go with me!” You whispered back. “Tell them you wanna be in the family videos.”

She deadpanned you. “Now you manage to come up with a good lie?”

“Oh! Just do it!”

Your body apologetically moved through the small swarm of people, unsuspectingly making your way over to Joel with Sarah right behind you.

“Light ‘em up,” Tommy told Joel.

Soon after there was that familiar loud whistle rutting against your eardrums, a hissing sound traveling into the sky before the different colors spiraled into a nonsensical design. Kids shouted joyfully, aside from the Jensen’s baby who let out a small cry, and scattered conversation filled the remaining space of empty sound.

You felt more comfortable in Joel’s presence, even when his attention wasn’t completely on you, and even more with your best friend by your side.

You could smell the cheap body spray you picked out for him when you were at Walmart alone a few weeks ago. It took some convincing, but eventually he promised to wear it for you at some point.

It smelled even better being mixed with his musk and pheromones and the layer of sweat he always seemed to have in the Texas heat.

His brown t-shirt proven too tight around his biceps, nestling against his broad shoulder blades with a thin stripe of sweat resting along his spine.

You felt a small gush, suddenly regaining awareness of the fact that you had no panties on right now. Your cheeks beamed a deep red, legs clenching as you tried to smear the precum instead of letting it trickle down your thighs.

Right now your perfectly clean, soft, cum catching Victoria’s Secret cheekies were collecting Joel’s dust in Joel’s room next to Joel’s bed, and you felt absolutely agonizingly exposed even though the only person that knew you were commando was you.

But then Joel’s laugh caught your attention, eyes being drawn back to the curve of his soft tummy, and you decided to use your naked dilemma to your advantage.

But how could we get from point A to point Tease?

“Sarah, you wanna light a firework?” Tommy shouted.

“Hell! No!” She yelled, gaining a couple of disappointed looks from people but a chuckle from you. “I’ve seen people blowing their hands off. Unh-unh, no thanks Uncle Tommy.”

“Agh. Come onnn,” Joel urged. “Don’t be a pussy.”

“Name calling won’t work this time,” she retorted.

“What about’chu?” Joel asked, a daunting look in his dark eyes.

Bend over, give him a little show just to risk losing a limb? Sign me up, you thought.

“Sure, why not?”

You gently pulled the yellow lighter from Joel’s hot hand, brushing your ass against his lower belly as you went to stand in front of him.

“I just light the red thing?” You asked Tommy.

“Yeah, ‘n do it at an angle so you don’t blow your fingers off,” he said nonchalantly.

“O…kay?”

You bent over, slow enough to ensure the skirt of your dress not popping up. You flicked the lighter, forcing a flame to appear, and held it to the red string sticking out.

Just as the string caught the flame, you felt a breeze ghost over your slick cunt, and Joel let out a strained sigh loud enough for you to hear from where you were.

You took a few steps away and backed into Joel’s frame “accidentally”. Everyone watched in awe as the red’s and blue’s filled the black sky for a few seconds, while Tommy set up another firework for you to light.

You bent over a little more subtly, but still enough to give Joel’s something to look at.

After hopping back between Joel and Sarah once the next explosive went up, you gave Joel’s his lighter back and grinned real wide at him.

But when you turned back to face your best friend, all but a pleasant look wore her face.

“You guys are disgusting,” she spat. “Where are your panties?”

“I had to take them off because they looked like a dirty diaper.”

“Ugh, you are so lucky I love you,” she said with her face in her hands.

You kissed her cheek and behaved yourself for a few more minutes, but as the night grew darker the wetter you became. You needed to get Joel alone now or you would become inconsolable.

“Can I light one more?”

Joel nodded, offering you the lighter once more, and Sarah had to fight the urge to throw her hands up in the air.

You bent over once more, this time leaving a hand on the crease on your ass.

Come on, Joel thought, give me a peek of that pretty hole.

And you did just that; while everyone was watching the firework spiral into the air Joel watched you tug your ass to the side, revealing your small hole that glistened.

“Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, fighting the growing bulge in his Levi’s.

You told Sarah to try lighting one, and she reluctantly agreed to; you stayed until it went off before excusing yourself inside the house.

Making your way into to the kitchen, you tried your best to quickly wipe up the mess that covered your inner thighs, but a hand gripped your forearm.

You screeched, but let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was just Joel.

Without hesitation you got on your knees and looked up at him as if you had no idea what you’d done. You reached for his pants, but he swatted your hand away and carried you onto the island counter, pushing your chest to make you lay down.

Before you could question it his lips inhaled your clit, sucking it a little too hard and making your body jolt.

You searched for his eyes, but the darkness in the room swallowed every fine detail you sought whenever Joel landed between your legs, forcing you to just focus on the feeling.

His heavy tongue licked a quick line from the bottom of your sticky slit to the hood of your clit, pulling the little nub into his hot mouth again. Suckling it until you threatened him with a breathy moan.

He pulled back and popped his rough hand on your clit, the stinging causing you to bite your lip and quiet yourself.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” he harshly whispered.

“Need you—“

“Shut up,” he repeated firmly before diving back into your heated core again.

You tried reaching to tug at his hair but he swatted your hands away once more; you were blindly searching for something along the slab of marble to grip onto, accidentally knocking over a jar of something sticky.

You frantically tried to put the jar back up but Joel was sucking your pussy to hard and deliciously. Eventually you fixed the spilled issue, recognizing the texture as Joel’s silky honey from his beehives.

“Here,” you moaned, shoving your fingers beneath his swollen lips.

He hummed in approval, slurping up the remnants from your trembling digits. You gripped the edge of the countertop and bucked your hips, Joel’s nose nestling into the throbbing edges of your clit.

Shaking his head to intensify the pleasure, his nose tickled your little bundle of nerves, that orgasmic tingling climbing the edge of release.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby,” you moaned softly.

That made him groan and eat you more sloppy than ever before. The obscene noises between his thick tongue and your slobbering pussy was filthy, disgusting almost.

Your moans were silenced behind your gritted teeth, legs burying Joel’s face deeper into your pulsing core, and he ensured his nose would continue rutting against your clit.

Your cry of euphoria was covered by a loud firework; Joel recognized that moan. You were cumming, leaking juices and honey into his mouth like a dam being released for the first time ever.

He lapped it up like a thirsty dog, not even savoring the taste before he found the urge to start slurping up your already sensitive clit again.

You whined, arms flailing in a poor attempt to remove his head.

It hurt it hurt it hurt so fucking bad.

But you couldn’t fight the grip Joel’s had around your thighs. The more you wiggled the more sensitive you became. You whined, accepting your fate and allowing your legs to tremble against his touch.

He made you endure the worst of it: the pain that swallowed you whole and antagonized every nerve ending in your body.

You’d fight harder if it were anyone else, but Joel elicited submission from you. You’d have him punish you anyway he deemed justified if it meant you got to have him.

You gurgled on your saliva, choking on your strained moans.

It was only until he’d had lost too much oxygen that he finally alleviated you from your suffering.

“Get on your fuckin’ knees,” he huffed, dropping his pants and boxers to his ankles.

You eagerly listened, feeling his hand grip your hair and force your eyes to look into his.

“Little fuckin’ slut wants to tease me in front’a everybody? Hmm? You thinks it’s okay to spread your fuckin’ pussy like that?”

He found the glass jar that was coated in the sweet nectar, holding it up in the moonlight for you to see.

“Look at the mess you made, baby,” he said in a mocking tone. “Gonna have to clean it up.”

Joel tipped the jar, pouring more than enough honey all over his painfully hard cock.

Your mouth watered, saliva pooling at the corners of your lips at the mere thought of the taste.

“Clean it up with your mouth for me, baby… Hands behind your back.”

You listened to his instructions, waffling your fingers together against the small of your back and curling your tongue against his velvety mushroom cockhead.

The salty taste made you moan, eyes narrowing up at his own. The slight glow of moonlight showing off the teardrops of honey dangling from his girthy shaft.

After you licked your yearning lips you took him into your mouth, gagging at the sickly sweet taste of too much honey.

“Ah, baby,” he whimpered. “Want me to fuck that cute little face a’yours?”

“M—mmhm,” you gurgled.

“Yeah?”

He held your head in place and thrusted into your drooling mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat with a lack of mercy.

Tears stung your eyes, excessive amounts of honey glossing over your trembling chin.

“You poor thing. Was that pretty little pussy dripping for me all day?”

You gurgled again, gagging on your hums of confirmation, nodding your dizzy head as he continued to fuck your face.

“Awwwh, such a needy little slut,” he cooed. “Need this cock deeper in that mouth, hmm?”

You nodded even more assuringly than before, moaning around his thick shaft. You blew bubbles of spit around his cock, keep his cock slippery enough to glide down your throat.

His breath was shaky, both hands now on your head, and soon after your throat was being stretched beyond its limits. You gagged around him, tears now flooding your puffy cheeks.

You reached up to give his heavy balls a decent tug, then squeezed them until you received a moan from his strained throat.

He growled when he yanked his cock from your throat, holding your head steady as you worked your way through your coughing fit.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moaned throat gritted teeth, squatting to be eye level with you. He smacked your jaw once, twice, three times before licking the honey and tears from your face, sloppy kisses being shared occasionally. “Such a fucking good little slut.”

“Just for you,” you whimpered.

“Oh really?” He laughed cruelly. “That why you were showin’ the world your pussy?”

“Jus’ you,” you assured.

“Yeah? We’ll see about that.”

He stood you up and bent you over the counter, stretching the fabric of your dress from pulling it up to hard.

He pinched your pussy lips and leaned onto your back after you screeched.

“Who else you tryna show this pretty little thing to?”

“Ah— fuck. Ju— you, baby. Just you.”

Joel released his grip on your cunt, pushing his tip between your sore lips. Despite the slight burn, he filled you quickly and smoothly.

“Look at this fucking pussy,” he moaned. “Mmhmm. Fuckin’ swallowing my cock like a good little thing. This pussy’s all mine?”

“Yes!” You cried out.

Your weight rested entirely on your stomach, feet swinging in the air, head bobbing and hip painfully bumping into the corner of the surface.

“She’s all mine, baby?” He asked again.

“YESyesyesyes!”

His wrapped a hand around your open mouth, muffling your cries before they turned into screamed.

“Good job, babydoll,” he smiled. “Good job. You’re doing such a good job takin’ this fucking cock.”

“S’big,” you muffled into his clammy hand.

“Goddamn. I got you this wet, baby? Oh, you musta been clenching those pretty legs all day thinkin’ ‘bout me.“

You knew he was talking to himself, using you like a fucktoy. You loved when he fucked you hard, opposing his usual routine of being gentle. He always made you feel good, but when you really needed it he knew how to wear you out.

And it was dumb, really — him forcing you to keep quiet though if it were even just a little more quiet outside everyone would hear the sound of your ass clapping against his tummy pudge.

But it wasn’t about being quiet, it almost never is. It was about keeping you disciplined.

Joel’s thick fingerpads found your clit, pinching the sensitive nub before rubbing big, deep circles.

You clawed at the hand on your mouth, legs looping around his tense hairy legs to balance yourself.

“Yeah, take that cock, slut,” he whispered against your earlobe. “Actin’ all desperate for me. Gonna fuckin’ breed this perfect pussy.”

His filthy words made your knees buckle and your eyes roll back. Your gummy walls clenched around him, thick white cream coating his honey drenched cock.

Joel could feel your clit throbbing between his clumsy fingers, he watched your back rise and fall quickly as your pussy squelched around him from your orgasm.

He gave you one final hard thrust, a rope of his cum shooting into you, his cock throbbing, begging for more release.

“Tell me it’s mine,” he said tiredly.

“It’s all yours, baby. Fu- it’s yoursyoursyours! I belong to you. I fucking belong to you, my pussy was made for you!”

He started thrusting somewhere in the midst of your cock drunk babbles, grunting loudly as he filled you with his warm seed.

“I’m all yours, Joel,” you repeated softly as he finished.

“Yo, Joel, what the— fuck?!”

You ducked below the counter and held your mouth while Joel fixed his pants. Of all people that could’ve walked in it had to be his brother?

Actually, the more you thought about it the better it seemed.

You stared up at Joel’s blank expression and rolled your eyes before standing up.

“Sorry,” you grimaced. “I stole him. Just tell everyone I got sick and he was making sure I was alright.”

“Why is their honey all over the fucking counter?!” Tommy asked as he picked up the sticky jar.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Joel said.

“No,” the younger man said in disbelief.

You both just stared at him and shrugged.

“How long were we gone?” You asked after Tommy finished berating Joel.

“Like twenty minutes, why?”

“We said we were gonna try that one position next time,” you reminded Joel.

Joel frowned for a moment before remembering the complicated position you stumbled upon a few days prior. He looked to Tommy with a smile.

“No,” he firmed answered.

Joel sighed turning back to you. “Tomorrow, baby.”

“Fine. I’m gonna go get a shower.”

You gave Joel one last kiss and said goodnight to Tommy before heading upstairs.

“Sarah’s best friend?” Tommy questioned as the two men made their way back outside.

Joel, who was still wearing that big smile said, “I know. She’s hot, right?”

[michaelsfavgirl]

NSFW alphabet

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Tags: Smut, mention of mirror sex, creampie, toys, public play, foreplay, semi-exhibitionism, outdoor sex, somno, masturbation, size kink, mention of a foot fetish (oop), teasing, mike being whipped and pussydrunk, porn, oral (f & m), mike's enormous monster cock, edging, overstimulation, mention of dp…

Word Count: 4.8k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: You can tell I started to lose my sanity at the end

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Pop, Rock and Soul aren't the only things he's the king of, he’s also most certainly the king of aftercare. Michael takes aftercare to a whole new level, turning it into an art form that rivals his mastery of music. For him, aftercare is not just an afterthought, it's as important as the act itself and the foreplay leading up to it. You’ll never catch him lacking

After the heat of passion has subsided, he gently guides you to lay on your shared, soft sheets, allowing you to catch your breath while he admires you with a look of pure adoration in his eyes. His touch is tender as he massages your heated skin, soothing any lingering tension and leaving you feeling utterly cherished.

Alright I'm going off on a tangent, back to aftercare! When it comes to cleaning up after sex, Michael prefers to do things properly. Instead of reaching for a mere wet rag, he opts for a shower or bath, finding the experience infinitely more intimate. With his hands in the warm water, he lavishes attention on every inch of your body. While he may melt at the suggestion of you returning the favor, his focus remains solely on pampering you.

Physical exertion is strictly off-limits after sex. Michael won't hear of you doing anything even remotely taxing. Instead, cuddles are mandatory.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Michael's adoration for you is evident to anyone who crosses your path; it's as if you radiate an otherworldly beauty that captivates all who are fortunate enough to behold you. From the strands of your hair to the tips of your pedicured toes (which, of course, he insists on paying for), you are nothing short of a goddess walking among mortals. If you asked him to choose a favorite part of your exquisite form, he would malfunction, how dare you make him choose? 

…however, when it comes to the sexual side of your relationship there are certain aspects of your body that he simply can't resist fixating on. He loves your hips, his large hands seem to have a mind of their own as they instinctively find their way there. Loves to squeeze them, especially when you’re in company and he needs to silently convey his yearning for you. Now if you’re chubby/plus size he’s obsessed with your love handles. Marveling at the way his fingers effortlessly find purchase in the soft folds of your flesh, when he’s taking your breath away with each thrust of his hips.

As for Michael's own body, it’s no surprise that he likes his hands. I mean have you seen them?! He knows the effect they have on you, he's caught you, not so discreetly, staring at them on multiple occasions. Loves to make you watch him play with your wet cunt in front of a mirror. He firmly yet gently cups your jaw to make sure your eyes stay glued to your reflection as he pushes his fingers into you, scissoring them in and out while slipping his thumb past your lips. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Certified creampie lover. Yes, seeing your soft skin glistening with his pearly beads of cum is undeniably arousing but it's the sight of his spent oozing out of your sensitive pussy that truly drives him wild. That sight alone is enough to get his length hardening in an instant. 

There's something undeniably primal about the way he fills you to the brim, until his own semen spills over, unable to be contained by your warmth, trickling down your slit in a deliciously messy display. The added messiness and the sinful squelching sounds only serve to send him into overdrive, fueling his desire to claim you again and again.

On occasions when there's no need to leave the confines of your home, Michael isn't shy about shoving his creamy mess deep into you with his thick fingers, then nonchalantly pulling up your panties as if it's the most natural thing in the world. He unashamedly revels in the sheer debauchery of watching you walk around with his cum dripping out of you, soaking your underwear. And just when you think he's done, he'll surprise you with an occasional check, slipping his warm hand under your panties to slide his fingers between your folds, deliberately ignoring your clit as he teases you about how drenched you are.

However, if Michael is feeling slightly remorseful or if you two have places to be, he'll opt for a more discreet approach. In such instances, he'll push a plug past your tight entrance, ensuring that his creamy aftermath is neatly contained within you. But this "tidiness" comes with a price—the plug he chooses is usually a remote-controlled vibrator, allowing him to maintain his dominance over you even when you're out in public. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Michael is an open book when it comes to sharing his fantasies and kinks with you, but there are certain desires he keeps hidden, reserved for the privacy of his own mind. One such secret, (yes there’s multiple) nestled deep within the recesses of his consciousness, is somnophilia.

There's an undeniable allure to the sight of you lost in slumber, your features softened by the peaceful embrace of unconsciousness. As you lie there, your slow, rhythmic breaths filling the room, Michael finds himself mesmerized by the sight of your sleeping form. He can’t help the blood pumping in his veins when you inch your leg higher, seeking a more comfortable position, whilst inadvertently revealing tantalizing glimpses of your clothed pussy. 

He only wants to rub your little clit that's all, or maybe also slip a finger or two into your slippery hole. Can you blame him for wanting to make his precious girl feel good? For wanting you to wake you with that familiar, pleasurable sensation between your legs?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

As much as the media wants to portray him as a clueless virgin to the public, behind closed doors, he's far from inexperienced. He's no prude and unfortunately for his mama he didn't wait till marriage. Trust he knows what he's doing. He knows his way around a bedroom, his every touch calculated to elicit gasps of ecstasy. With Michael, there's no fumbling or uncertainty.

In the beginning, when you first became intimate Michael made it his mission to commit to memory the nuances of your body and what turns you on. He focused solely on you, trying to gauge your reactions, see what brought you the most pleasure and what you didn’t seem too fond of. He learned to read your body like a well-worn book, to anticipate your every whim and desire before it even crossed your mind. His touch became more intuitive, his movements more fluid, as he effortlessly guided you to the heights of ecstasy and beyond.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

To him, it's an absurd question because He has no issue with bringing you the most pleasure in any position. and he's more than willing to explore them all with you. Of course, if you have one, he's more than happy to accommodate. Your satisfaction is his top priority, and he'll go out of his way to make sure you're getting exactly what you want. 

But I know you want to know more so here are honorable mentions: The mating press: oh lord, he’s obsessed with how deep he can go. He revels in the sensation of plunging deep into your drooling cunt, his hips slamming against yours with a ferocity that borders on animalistic. Almost cums on the spot at the sight of your jaw unhinging as his tip kisses your cervix with each powerful thrust. 

Standing up/against a wall: these are mainly reserved for quickies. Loves the urgency, the need to satisfy your needs in the heat of the moment. He delights in pushing you against a wall, his hands gripping your hips as he slides into your puffy cunt with abandon. Bonus points for watching your ass jiggle.

Low doggy style: prefers this one over the traditional doggy as you have to do even less. There's no need to strain your spine or hurt your elbows; no, instead all his sweet girl has to do is lie comfortably on the sheets and let him do all the work.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Michael has a fantastic sense of humor, most of his friends and family will agree. However, when it comes to matters of the bedroom, he adopts a more serious demeanor. He wants your thoughts to meld together, your senses attuned to the delicious stretch of his cock or the tantalizing sensation of his mouth between your legs. To introduce humor into such a sacred space would be to risk disrupting the delicate balance of pleasure and passion that he works so tirelessly to achieve.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Michael takes great pride in his grooming habits, ensuring that he is always impeccably clean and well-maintained, especially when it comes to his nether regions. While he may not be a fan of shaving, he keeps his pubic hair neatly trimmed, finding that the hair adds a touch of masculinity to his appearance. However, he does make an exception when it comes to his balls, preferring to keep them smooth for your convenience and enjoyment.

As for his preference when it comes to your grooming habits, Michael has a strong preference for a full bush. This is factual, you can't tell me otherwise. He's a product of the 70s era, where lush and natural pubic hair was the norm. The wilder the better. He told me so himself.

Adores when it gets messy with his cum or feels it dampen with your arousal as he pleasures you. He loves the way the soft hairs brush against his cheeks when he's sucking on your clit or when your pubic hair tangles with his own as he thrusts deeply into you.

Plus when the two of you are lounging on the couch, boredom sometimes leads him to slip his hand under your pants to absentmindedly play with the tufts of hair at the top of your mound. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

For Michael, sex isn't just a physical act, it's the ultimate expression of intimacy and connection. He views it as something sacred, a deeply personal and meaningful experience. He’s always doting on you in your relationship so that doesn’t change in the bedroom, he actually becomes even more affectionate. From gentle whispers of endearment to tender kisses placed upon your skin, he leaves no doubt in your mind that you are his everything, the center of his universe, and he is utterly devoted to your pleasure and satisfaction.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before you entered his life, Michael's hand was no stranger to his throbbing shaft, especially with the weight of carrying the entire music industry on his back. Masturbation served as a way to let off steam and alleviate the relentless stress. But once you became intimately involved, his solo sessions dwindled significantly. Your touch, your scent, your very essence eclipsed any pleasure he could derive from his own hand. So, he'd much rather wait to get his hands on you. 

Even when you're not in the mood, he holds off. Some might say he edges this way but of course, he'd never admit to such lewd accusations.

However, when the demands of touring keep him separated from you for months on end, Michael's resolve is put to the ultimate test. Alone in his hotel room, he finds himself unable to resist the primal urge to seek release. With your panties clenched tightly in his fist, his hand moves with a frenzied urgency, his shaft pulsating with need as he conjures vivid memories of fucking you senseless, eagerly counting down the days until he can hold you in his arms once again.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lowkey a freak. All that repressed sexual desire from being in a highly religious household really did its thing, taught him how to conceal his deepest yearnings behind a façade of propriety and restraint. Considers himself more kinky than most. Even when he comes across someone who's also into kinky stuff they’re usually into the typical bdsm-like things whilst Michael's tastes veer decidedly into the realm of the unconventional. our man gets off on the weirder fetishes. (still love him though)

Aside from those when it comes to the more “normal” desires he’s into immortalizing your most intimate encounters with a click of his camera shutter. Polaroids and videos of the most raunchy moments that would put Kim K’s tape to shame. Of course your faces are still always out of the frame, after all, discretion is important when you're the most famous person in the world.

Has a raging size kink that borders on obsession. (not talking about body size) Each time he has to prep you with his fingers, the sensation of stretching you to accommodate his girthy cock makes his brain melt. Also unashamedly loves being messy and spitting in your mouth. I could go on forever listing them so let’s stop, we've got more to talk about. 

 Also may or may not have a foot fetish, but i didn't tell you that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Mainly prefers the privacy of your neverland ranch but he's not limited to the confines of the bedroom. There’s no surface in your home that hasn’t been christened by the both of you. from the kitchen counter to the inviting waters of the pool.

Considers himself a semi-exhibitionist, relishing in the thrill of the forbidden without the desire to actually get caught in the act. There's something about the risk of being discovered, of stifling your moans with his palm while keeping a vigilant eye out for prying eyes. It's the adrenaline rush of teetering on the edge of discovery that sets his pulse racing.

Outside of your haven he prefers either his dressing room or somewhere out in nature. Making love to you while you're laying on a soft blanket in the middle of a flowery field while the birds are chirping? Sign him the fuck up.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Michael's motivations are as straightforward as they come: you. The simple presence of your divine form is enough to send his desire into overdrive. Call it whipped if you must, but he sees it as a privilege to be enraptured by the allure of the sexiest woman in existence.

Strangely enough, it's not the overtly seductive gestures that get him going. No, it's the everyday moments, the mundane activities that hold the power to ignite the flames of passion within him. You can be lounging on the couch beside him, lost in conversation on the phone or simply lost in your own thoughts and the innocent sound of your sighs or the arch of your neck as you stretch will get him chubbing up instantly.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Michael has firm boundaries when it comes to certain acts in the bedroom, rooted in the trauma he endured at the hands of his father. The idea of causing you any harm, whether physical or emotional, is utterly unthinkable to him. Squeezing your hips? Sure. a spank on your soft ass? Alright. but anything more aggressive or degrading is strictly off-limits. The thought of leaving a mark on your delicate skin or causing you any distress sends shivers down his spine.

Another thing that's off the table for Michael is pornography. He simply can't bring himself to watch other naked women when he's got his very own P.Y.T. by his side. Besides, with his penchant for taking Polaroids and videos, he's got his own personal collection that far surpasses anything he could find online. Why settle for generic smut when he has the real deal right in front of him?

At last, subbing is something he’ll never do. Nope, not happening. He's a pleasure/service dom through and through, and the idea of you putting in any work to satisfy him instead of the other way around? Yeah, that's a major turn-off for him. Katherine didnt raise no 50/50 “let's split the bill” goon.

When he's really exhausted but still wants to please you, he'll reluctantly let you take the reins. Will let you bounce on his fat cock as you use him for your own pleasure. It's the closest thing to submission you'll ever get from him, but even then, that doesn’t happen often and he's still calling the shots, making sure you're getting exactly what you need while he serves as your willing plaything.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Michael's got a Ph.D. from the pussy eating academy, wait no, scratch that, he's the one who founded the university. He’s the founding father, the dean, and the star pupil all rolled into one. Therefore he's more of a giver. It's not just a preference; it's a calling. Sounds overused but he really could spend hours nestled between your thighs, worshiping at the altar of your pleasure. 

And let's talk about his chronic clit-sucking habit. Once he gets going, there's no stopping him. He'll latch onto that little bundle of nerves like his life depends on it, not even bothering to detach his lips when he sees it swollen and sensitive from his ministrations. And when your thighs instinctively squeeze around his head, well, let's just say it's his version of heaven on earth. Deny him the chance to feast on you daily, and he'll legit start having wet dreams about it. No joke.

Now, when it comes to receiving oral, Michael's a bit more reserved. He prides himself on being a gentleman, and making you kneel on a cold wooden floor just doesn't sit right with him. He'll only let you go down on him on special occasions, and even then, he's careful not to push you too far. You won't be deep-throating him anytime soon—just the tip, thank you very much. He's all about ensuring your comfort, and he's not about to let you strain your jaw for his pleasure.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's somewhere in between. He's quite blessed downstairs so he knows he needs to tread carefully to avoid accidentally causing you any discomfort. “Technique is more important than pace” truther. That being said, there are moments when he's not afraid to let loose and take you hard and fast, especially if he's feeling particularly stressed or you've been a bit of a brat.

But if he's not in the mood for a wild romp, it'll take some serious convincing, a healthy dose of luck, and maybe a few well-timed puppy dog eyes to get him to crank up the intensity. And if you manage to persuade him to pound you into the mattress he'll step up his aftercare game to a whole new level.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

There's something undeniably thrilling about swiftly pulling aside clothes, not bothering with the formality of full undressing, and dropping to his knees to bury his head under your skirt for a quick taste of ecstasy. The urgency of it all, the risk of getting caught, it's enough to send shivers down his spine and get his blood pumping. He gets it, he really does.

But as much as he enjoys the occasional quickie, nothing compares to the ecstasy of taking his time with you. Michael is all about savoring every moment, prolonging foreplay until you're practically begging for release. He revels in edging you to the brink, pushing you to the very limits of pleasure until you're a quivering, whimpering mess beneath him. And when you finally can't take it anymore, when you're cumming so hard you can barely see straight, that's when he knows he's done his job right. 

Seeing your legs trembling, your eyes rolling back in bliss, and your beautiful face contorted with pleasure is the ultimate reward for him. So while quickies may have their appeal, for Michael, nothing beats the pure, unadulterated ecstasy of taking his time and making you cum over and over again.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Michael is all about pleasing you so if you've got a fantasy you've been dying to try, you can bet he'll be game for it. Even if it's not exactly his cup of tea, he'll give it a shot at least once, just to see the look of satisfaction on your face. There are very few things he’d not try, especially with you. Your pleasure is his top priority, and he'll go to great lengths to ensure you feel comfortable and fulfilled in the bedroom. So don't be shy about sharing your wildest fantasies with him – he's always eager to turn your dreams into reality. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You could be lying there, barely able to catch your breath after multiple rounds, and he'll be grinning like a Cheshire cat, asking if you can give him one more orgasm. And trust me, you never have to worry about taking too long to cum or him finishing before you do as this man can dance, sing, and entertain on stage for hours on end without breaking a sweat. 

You’ve never had an experience when you didn’t cum or that he climaxed first. Absolutely not. He's a master at making sure you reach climax first, every single time. He's all about you and your pleasure baby. You'll never leave the bedroom unsatisfied when Michael's in charge. 

He usually goes for three rounds and can last around thirty minutes before he finally lets himself climax. And even then, his refractory period is short – just a few minutes, maybe ten if he's had an especially intense orgasm. So rest assured, you'll be in for a wild ride every time you're between the sheets with him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He does have a stash of toys that are mostly for your pleasure and he's not shy about putting them to good use. From vibrators to plugs to dildos (none bigger than his own length, of course) to lots of lube, he’s got everything you need.

 He is not one of those men who get insecure and compare themselves to silicone toys. In fact, he sees them as valuable tools for enhancing your pleasure, not as competition. He knows that they can help him make you feel even better. They're besties not enemies.

He's especially into the idea of double penetration, but he's not about to invite someone else into the bedroom to make it happen. That's where the toys come in handy. He can fill both of your holes at the same time, giving you the kind of mind-blowing pleasure you crave.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

After music teasing you is his second most favorite thing to do. You hate how naturally it comes to him. No matter what the situation, he always manages to find a way to make your face feel hot, leaving you squirming and begging for more. 

It's almost unfair how good he is at it. One minute you're just minding your own business, and the next, he's got you swatting at his arm and burying your face in his chest, trying to hide the embarrassment. But deep down, you secretly love every second of it – even if you'd never admit it out loud.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Unlike some guys, Michael isn't shy about letting the world know when you're making him feel good. He's a vocal one, and he sees no reason to hold back. I mean, why would he want to hide the fact that you're driving him wild with pleasure? Especially when you're at home, he couldn't care less if the maids or security overhear (they've all signed NDAs anyway), he's not holding anything back.

And let's talk about that mouth of his. It's downright filthy, I tell you. Once he gets going, there's no shutting him up. He's always whispering the nastiest, dirtiest things into your ear, sending shivers down your spine and making your gummy walls clench around him like a vice.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Remember the dildos I mentioned in the toys section? Well this little freak has made a custom made dildo for you that is an exact replica of his cock. Yeah, you read that right. I’m going to give you a second to take that in……

he was absolutely buzzing with excitement, literally had his dick in a mold, imagining your reaction when you laid eyes on it.

Before jetting off on tour, he carefully placed this anatomically accurate marvel in a discreet box on your bed, like a tantalizing treasure waiting to be discovered. And then, without so much as a backward glance, he vanished to conquer stages in far-off lands, leaving you to uncover his risqué gift in his absence.

When you finally laid eyes on that uncanny replica, your face surely turned as hot as a boiling teapot. From the lifelike color to the intricate veins, every detail is meticulously crafted to match the one you’re all too familiar with.

When Michael called you from across the globe, you could practically hear the mischievous smirk in his voice as he awaited your reaction, fully aware of the tidal wave of emotions that “little” creation would unleash.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I'm just expanding on this post I made a while ago. 

He’s 7 inches when soft, 9 when hard. And before you start with the "unrealistic" talk, let me stop you right there, this blog is not the place for that. We're on Tumblr for crying out loud. Besides, rumor has it that Michael was packing something closer to a 12-inch monster, so let's just say 9 inches is well within the realm of possibility for our man. 

But besides length you may say “length isnt everything its all about the girth” you are correct and to that i give you one hint–can of soda.(which is around 21 cm btw). He is absolutely obsessed with the fact that your hand can barely wrap around his impressive shaft.

Also he's uncut, with faint veins tracing their way all over, adding an extra layer of sensation as they glide against your slick walls. Has big soft balls to match the length. They are very sensitive so every time they slap against your bottom he's panting from the sheer overstimulation. Sucking on them during oral for longer than a few seconds  will have you witnessing a rare sight of him losing his control.

Michael takes great care of himself physically so his cum tastes relatively good, never have you felt the need to spit it out. It's so thick and milky as well, all that creamy goodness looks mouthwatering, painting your skin or insides.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Good luck soldier cause he has a very high libido. And he has the audacity to blame it on you. He'll look you dead in the eye and say, "How can I not be insatiable when I wake up next to the most beautiful girl in the world?" Cheesy bastard. 

As much as Michael yearns for you every damn day, he's not about to let his desires override your comfort. He's a gentleman through and through. If he notices that you're still feeling sore from the previous night's escapades, he'll restrain himself because at the end of the day, your comfort and well-being come above anything else, even his insatiable hunger for you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

you're usually the first one to tap out. After all those gentle caresses and sweet nothings whispered in your ear, it's a wonder you manage to stay awake at all. But Michael's not the type to tease you about it, he's too busy showering you with praise for how well you did for him. He'll pull you close to his chest and tell you to close those pretty eyes and rest. There's no better lullaby than the sound of his steady heartbeat as you drift off into dreamland. Makes sure you are snuggled up close to his chest before he lets himself drift off.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @moonuoi @iconsmjj

[forever-rogue]

Joel and Reader finding an abandoned baby and Joel is conflicted, part of him wants to give it to someone else, but the other part wants to raise it with reader

AN | Okay, but I really liked this concept!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were trekking through the woods, a tense silence between the two of you. You’d just had an argument which left neither of you feeling particularly good about what had been said. You wanted to try and settle down for a while, especially now that you had Ellie with the two of you and there was a good opportunity for you in Jackson; he was reluctant to get too comfortable in any one place. You didn’t blame him - it wasn’t easy for you either but you were willing to try.

You weren’t quite sure what to say now. All you knew was that you hated the idea that he was at you.

“Joel-”

“Shh,” he held up his arm in front of you, causing both of you to stop apparently. He held a finger to his lips as he looked around, eyes narrowed, “listen.”

You raised an eyebrow before trying to tune into what he was hearing. For a man with some hearing issues, he heard a lot more than you'd expect. Once you stilled, you heard the odd sound. Was that…crying?

"Joel?" you whispered, reaching for his wrist, "what is that?"

"I don't know," he didn't look at you but started walking to the source of the sound. His gun was at the ready as you fell into the step behind him.

He didn't stop until he was at the edge of the bushes near the clearing that had been up ahead. You swallowed thickly as he pushed through the brush, stopping as soon as he stepped into the clearing. You heard him inhale sharply as you almost tumbled after him. He easily wrapped an arm around your waist to help you up right.

He was staring at something on the ground and you followed his line of sight. You gasped just as he had as you saw the source of the sound. 

A baby.

"What the…" you trailed off as you pushed past Joel to get a better look at the small pastel pink bundle. 

While the poor thing was bundled up, you could see that it was a young baby, probably no more than a month or so old. Your instinct was to reach for it and pick it up, to shield it from the chill; at least it wasn't the dead of winter anymore so you had some hope that the baby would be okay.

"Stop," Joel reached out and grabbed your wrist, causing you to glare at him, "don't touch it."

"It's a baby, Joel," you snapped, "it's probably cold and hungry - someone clearly just left them there."

"It could be a set up or what if…" his mouth fell into a hard line as he shook his head. You pulled your hand out of his touch and picked up the baby, much to his chagrin.

"I'm not going to leave a baby out here," you hissed at him, clutching the small bundle to your chest, "whatever the reason they were left doesn't matter right now. And they're not infected - stop going to doomsday immediately."

"Look it over," his voice was gruff as you rolled your eyes at him. Fine. You were willing to give him that much. 

You sank onto your knees as you unwrapped the bundle and looked over the baby - a little girl. She was dressed in a thin onesie that you undid so you could check her over. She had big brown eyes and wisps of hair and chubby little cheeks, "she's okay. Just cold and hungry."

“You’re not seriously thinking about taking her back with us?” his eyes hardened as you looked at him in shock. You weren’t expecting him to welcome her with open arms, but you’d expected a little more compassion. This was Joel after all; he was rough around the edges but gentle and tender hearted. 

“I’m not leaving her behind,” you insisted, trying to remain as firm as you could, “no one gets left behind. That includes this innocent baby - she’ll die out here. We both know that.”

“What if someone comes back to look for her?” you both knew that was extremely unlikely, “what if they follow us?”

“Then they can come and find us and explain why they abandoned her in the first place,” you unzipped your jacket and put her inside to get her warm, zipping it just up enough so she wouldn’t be squeezed, “I’m not leaving her. That’s not negotiable. That’s not who we are, Joel.”

“Fine,” he held up his hands in mock surrender before taking a step back, “when this all turns to shit, don’t come running to me.”

“Joel.”

“Let’s get back,” he turned around without giving you another glance, “we’re already late.”

You were rooted in place as you watched him go, trying to fight back the tears that were pearling up. The baby cooed at you softly, looking at you with curious eyes which caused your heart to melt.

“It’ll be okay,” you whispered to her, “we’ll figure it all out.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You didn’t see much of Joel for the next couple of weeks. Which, to be quite honest, hurt a lot. You weren’t sure exactly what to call him; boyfriend felt too trivial and partner felt not enough. He was everything to you…so it cut like a knife when he made it a point to avoid you. And he couldn’t even lie about it - you’d seen him physically turn around and walk away when he’d spotted you somewhere. Several times. 

So while it sucked and you missed him desperately, you were focused on the baby that you’d come to have. You weren’t exactly sure what you’d call her in relation to either - but for the time being you’d settled on the name Olivia, or Ollie for short. 

Once she’d gotten checked out by one of the doctors back in Jackson, it was determined that she’d been about six weeks old and had likely been abandoned for most of the day before she was found. She was lucky that you’d stumbled across her when you did…or she might not have made it. 

You still weren’t exactly what you were going to do with her, but for now, you were keeping her. You’d never had much experience with babies or toddlers before the world arrived at its current state, and you definitely hadn’t expected the first opportunity to come along now. But somehow it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be and you sort of fell into it. 

You loved her, she’d won your heart from the first time you’d looked at her, and that was all that mattered. 

The rest would fall into place. Hopefully.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What do you think?” you grinned at the baby swaddled to your chest as she babbled away happily, as though she understood what you were saying. You listened to her for a few moments before nodding in agreement, “you’re right. I’ll make pasta for dinner for myself and Ellie, and you’ll get a nice big bottle all to yourself.”

You couldn’t help beam at her as she smiled at you; you knew it probably wasn’t at you in particular but you liked the idea. Ellie hadn’t come by yet for dinner, but you knew she would soon; she was with you most evenings still. You felt bad for her in a way; with everything that had happened (or hadn’t rather) between you and Joel you felt like you were putting her through a divorce and forcing her to choose a side. But she didn’t view it that way…she was waiting for Joel to come to his senses. And you weren’t forcing her to pick either of you. 

You heard a knock on the front door of your small, but homey, little house, causing you to pick perk up. You dumped some pasta into the water, figuring it was Ellie being polite, “come on in, Ellie Bean!”

The door opened slowly and you didn’t pay it much attention until you realized that the girl was strangely quiet for once. You set down the wooden spoon before looking over and finding that it wasn’t Ellie that had come in at all. 

It was Joel.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say as you looked at him in surprise. He caught your eye and the two of you stared at each other silently for a few moments, “what are you doing here?”

His shoulder sagged in relief as he slowly made his way over to you, letting out a long sigh as he leaned against the counter. He decided that the fact that you didn’t flinch or scamper away was a good sign. The way you instinctively cradled your arm around the baby wasn’t lost on him. 

“I wanted to apologize,” he managed to choke out after a few moments, only the bubbling of the water filling the silence. You raised an eyebrow at him but he didn’t say anything further. 

“For what?” oh yeah. You weren’t going to let him get away with this one. He caught your eye and a frown tugged down the corners of his mouth, “hmm?”

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” despite the fact that it was hard for him to admit he was wrong, he wasn’t going to lie to you. Not to you - the best thing in his life, “the things I said and did. I shouldn’t have done it. it wasn’t right.”

“Okay,” you nodded as you stirred the pasta, fast feeling stinging and prickling at the back of your eyes. The two of you were silent as he watched you drain the pasta and set it back on the stove, finishing it off with sauce and cheese. You grabbed two bowls of the cabinet, along with utensils as you divvied up the pasta and set it down at the kitchen table. He didn’t move, surprised - and yet entirely unsurprised - by the way you didn’t hesitate to show kindness, “come on. Let’s eat…I know you probably haven’t been taking care of yourself, love.”

“Why?” he sat down across from you, pulling the warm bowl closer, his growling stomach betraying him. You knew exactly what he meant.

“Because I love you - you’re my family,” you focused your attention on the bowl so you wouldn’t immediately cry and lose it, “and you don’t just throw that away. Not even if things get a little out of sync or whatever.”

“I was scared,” he finally admitted, causing you to pause as you looked over at him, “I am scared.”

"Joel," you reached across the table for his hand and gently put yours on top of his. You gave it a reassuring squeeze before offering him a small smile, "me too. It's okay to be scared - you just have to talk to me. That's all. We'll always figure it out together, my love."

"At first it was just because of the immediate threat - what if she was infected or it was just a trap?" he leaned back in chair as you nodded at him to go on. You'd listen to him forever if he needed you to, "but that quickly turned into a lot more. It was everything."

“I’m not going to pretend like I know how you’re feeling or what you’re doing through,” you whispered sweetly, causing him to nod, “but I do know that I love you and I want to be there for you no matter what. I want to help - if you’ll let me.”

“I want you,” he swallowed thickly, “I…I want to tell you everything.”

“Then please do. It doesn't have to be tonight or even all at once,” you promised, “however you want to. Okay?”

“Okay,” you offered him a small smile that he returned. He felt like he hadn’t smiled in weeks. 

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, the only sounds filling the room were forks hitting the ceramic bowls and the occasional sound from Ollie. She'd fallen asleep, probably lulled to slumber from your movements. You weren't lost on the way Joel's eyes kept drifting back to her.

Once you'd finished eating, you put everything in the sink, unsure of what to say next. Joel filled in the gap.

"Can I hold her?"

Your mouth formed a small o in surprise as you tried to see if he was being serious. You hadn't quite expected that. After a moment of contemplating, you nodded and slowly started to unbundle the sleeping baby from your chest. Ollie didn't wake up, only making a few small sounds instead.

Joel took her gingerly from your arms, holding her in his own and cradled her to his chest. He was experienced - practiced - even though it had been a long time. 

You could see the emotions fighting on his features as he trailed a finger over her chubby cheek. You didn't want to interrupt the moment and instead sat back down. 

"She's beautiful," he whispered softly, "she reminds me a little of…Sarah. She had these chubby cheeks too and just a mop of dark brown hair. I was so scared when she was born, so scared that I would fuck it all up. But then I took one look at her and it just kinda all made sense. I fell in love with her."

"I can't even imagine the stress and the excitement," it wasn't often that he brought up his daughter, you knew it was hard for him…the pain he must have gone through was unfathomable. The fact that he trusted you with this resonated within your heart, "everything all at once."

"Yeah," he let out a small sound, "it felt like it happened all over again when my wife left. I was so angry and mad but then I realized I couldn't do that - I had my baby girl to take care of. And it ended up being us, just us, until…she died."

"Joel-"

"Let me say it," he insisted, his voice thick with tears, "I have to say it at some point. It'll never be easy, but it's the truth. And Sarah will always be my baby."

 "Always."

"When we found her," he looked down and inhaled sharply, "I got mad. Mad that someone had this child and then just felt her to die. Scared that something was wrong with her…scared that would happen. That if we took her I would cause something to happen to her. That she would end up with the same fate as Sarah...or Sam or Henry.”

"That wasn't your fault," tears had rolled down your cheeks by this point and you wanted to do nothing but hold him, "it was never your fault."

"I know…but it took myself a long time to accept that," he confessed, "I've been thinking a lot about it lately…about her."

Ollie opened her big brown eyes as she blinked at him before smiling happily. Joel returned the smile, gently bouncing her so she couldn't become upset. 

"I've been thinking a lot about Ellie too," he caught your eye and he noticed how your face lit up at the mention of the young girl, "how I was so reluctant to let her in at first. But she managed to do it, just like you did, and she's family. Even if I don't tell her, I hope she knows I love her like she was my own."

"Trust me," you laughed lightly, "she knows."

"I love you," he caught you so off guard that you just looked at him, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water. You knew he loved you - that had never been once been something you questioned. But he’d never said three little words out loud either, “I’m sorry I haven’t said it. But I-I hope that…you know.”

“I know,” your lips formed a pretty pout that he wanted to kiss away as you nodded at him, “I know, Joel. I love you too.”

“I’m sorry,” he cleared his throat and you shook your head, “I shouldn’t have treated you like I did. I thought that maybe…maybe avoiding the situation might make it go away.”

“And just how often does that work?” there was a teasing lilt to your voice that caused him to chuckled softly.

“I know, Instead all I did was manage to push you away,” he leaned back and sighed, “you didn’t deserve that.”

“I missed you,” it was a gentle confession that made his heart swell, “I was trying to figure out how to approach you…you beat me to it.”

“It was just getting my head on straight,” he paused for a moment and let out a huff of amusement, “and Ellie helped. Girl wouldn’t leave me alone, but she was right.”

“She often is….but don’t tell her that, lest it get in her head.”

“I’ve learned that much,” the two of you shared shy smiles that turned into a bit of tender laughter. The man in question watched you with a reverent gaze that made you want to melt into a puddle, “what did you decide to call her?”

“Olivia,” you grinned, “more commonly known as Ollie.”

“I like it,” he looked down at Olivia called Ollie and felt his heart constrict. She was already back asleep, “what are…what do you want to do with her?”

“Ahhh, yeah,” you shrugged, “that’s the question of the hour, isn’t it? I don’t know. I wish I did but…. It’s hard.” 

“Tell me,” he softly encouraged you.

“I’ve never had a kid before let alone a baby,” you stated, which he already knew, “I feel like I have no clue what I’m doing and don’t want to mess anything up. I want her to have all the best things. But at the same time…I don’t want to let her go. I’ve already grown pretty fond of her.”

“I think you’ve done a great job so far,” he insisted and you felt shy under his gaze, “there’s no manual for this - especially not in his world - you just learn. You fuck it up, but you learn and move on. What matters most is…”

“Love,” you finished for as he caught your eye and nodded, “but Joel…what about…fuck, I hate sounding so pathetic, but what us? I don’t want to lose you or have you feel like you need to be here because of her or have you not want to be here because of her.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you knew from the look in his eye that he wasn’t kidding, “no matter what happens. I’m scared of all of this too, but I’m willing to try. If you want me to get on my knees and beg you for forgiveness, I will, baby.”

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive,” he looked down at Ollie before back at you, “let’s be scared together. I think we’ll figure it out. What do you say, sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you laughed through the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, brushing them away with the back of your hand, “okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

“Together,” you really liked the sound of that, “we’ll get through it all.”

Before you could say anything else, the door almost slammed open as Ellie barged in, “hello family! What’s new?”

You looked at Joel, who let out a signature dramatic sigh, before both of you looked at Ellie. 

“A lot,” Joel couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed and you knew that Ellie already knew Ellie what had happened, “come and sit down, kid.”

“About time,” she helped herself to food, “you’re meant to be together - took you long to figure that out!”

[sunny-mercya]

Chasing Shadows

Percy Jackson x Male Reader

Fandom -> Percy Jackson Series

Masterlist

Percy had known, more gotten it told—rather offhandedly and in a rude, dismissive and snarky snide manner—about your mental health from the very beginning, when he had first woken up in Camp Half-Blood.

It hadn't deterred him to befriend you—the skittish, anxious and shy boy, with a sunshine like smile and an heart filled with too much joy and genuine love.

So now, when summer vacation had started again for Percy—after almost a whole year since the Battle against Kronos rising had been won and over—to be back at Camp, hopefully for some tranquility and peaceful time, the very first thing he did—besides bringing his luggage into his Cabin—was to check up on you.

You're a full time camper since birth and the only few times you had gotten even remotely out of Camp, had been during two Quests—where Percy had dragged you along for non real purpose in all honesty—and the final battle. Percy knew how cramped and suffocating you felt in camp, so he hopes the present he had brought for you—would cast a smile on your lips.

Jogging around, having a hard time finding you as you weren't in your usual spots and neither were you in the Apollo Cabin—which wasn't your Cabin to stay in as Apollo isn't your other parental half, but due an oath binding between Apollo and Zephyr—your actual parental half—you (and all other children of Zephyr, which were none thought as you're the only one) are allowed to stay in the Apollo Cabin as well.

Percy had heard from Annabeth—which was a bit surprising as the both of you are not familiar with one another at all—and Will, which was to be expected as you're his unofficial—hopefully soon officially—adopted little brother, how your mental health had taken a drastic shift into a worsen state than it had been before.

When Percy checked the Medical wing and couldn't saw in there either, there had been only more place left in his mind—where you probably could've been hiding, a small offside shore by the lake—and Percy swore, if you're not there either, he would go to Chiron and and report you missing.

~~~

Percy thanked Zeus and possibly God above with sincere gratitude, that you're indeed by the lake.

Though when Percy was almost near you—eyes widen in shock, breath caught in his lungs, once he saw your appearance vaguely close enough—he skidded into an stop, stumbling a few steps forward and landed with his knees—probably scraping them open—in the rough pebble and rock filled sand.

He crawled the last bit of way, sitting himself right in front of you. You didn't seem to register him at all, in a sort of daze you are—in your own world, lost in empty thoughts—staring with with dull eyes, void of emotions and life, at him or more like through him as if he was glass.

»Hey, [Nickname], I almost thought about to report you missing. You're way too good at hiding, seashell,« chuckled Percy, placing his hands over yours, wanting to recoil his touch back instantly—shuddering in a flinch, when feeling how leathery and boney your hand was—but didn't, giving you a squeeze and interwoven his fingers with yours.

What happened to you? Thought Percy, swallowing hard as his breath threatened again to be stuck in his lungs. Licking over his lips—slightly nibbling and pulling on the skins.

»[Name],« he called your name, in a softer hushing voice, out again. Caressing with his thumbs over your hand and again you didn't reacted.

While giving you a short full body scan, Percy engulfed you slowly into a hug—pulling you close and slowly down to the sandy and scratchy pebble rock ground.

Your skin, which had a once healthy glow to it, looked now ashen pale sickly and had a leathery grease to it. Cheekbones, chubby baby fat gone, hollowed and sunken in—so were your eyes and eye-bags beneath it, darker than ever.

Percy could tell that you had lost significantly lost weight, leaving you more than just scrawny—boney skinny, with arms so thin like toothpicks and your ribcage showing through—in a sense—your shirt.

By Zeus, you looked more like a corpse than an actual human being.

~~~

When the sun had started to set ever so slowly in the late afternoon, Percy picked you up—realising, his mind now completely catching up on the fact how, weight losses you actually are—after talking your ear off with everything he had on his mind, unconsciously making you fall asleep and carrying you back to the Apollo Cabin.

Laying you down onto your bed, Percy sat down next to you for a few more minutes of moments, while Will—who had nodded at him solemnly when he had entered the Cabin with you—passed out from exhaustion—in his arms—had drawn the curtains close around your bed as you never liked it to sleep in such open space, where everyone could watch you.

Percy examined your wrist, seizing up the freshly healed scars—which definitely weren't from a fight or sparring—he had a hunch, a fucking good hunch, to what was happening to you and leaves you in nothing but a mere unresponsive hollowed shell of decay.

Clenching his eyes shut for a second and blinking away the tears, which started to build up with a pressuring burning in his eyes, Percy looked at Will—wanting some answers, clarification and confirmation.

»How long?«

»Probably started shortly after the final battle against Kronos and Luke.«

»Why didn't you guys told me sooner?«

Will shrugged his shoulders, folding some clothes—putting them down onto the empty chair—and checking your nightstand cabinet, mentally noting down which of your medications and prescriptions needed to be refilled.

»Everyone handles Traumatic experiences differently and I've noticed it rather late, which mind you I'm still upset with myself about it, the telltale signs. Then again, you know how my brother is, never wanting to burden anyone,«

Percy swallowed, remembering it clearly—the traumatic experience, Will was talking about;

Luke in your arms, whispering apologies with his last remaining breaths to you and you reassuring him, that while you're still angry with him—about his stupidity of decision he made—you would forgive him and telling a lie of how everything gonna be okay.

And then, Percy had only walked away for a few seconds to get Will or Lord Apollo, when a piercing scream—your scream, so full of desperation and sorrow—echoed through, Percy stopped dead in his tracks.

Turning around fast, Percy looked at you with an horrific expression. You who is covered in blood and other bodily things, which he not dared to say out loud.

Lukes blood to be exact, then Luke—while still talking to you, in his hoarsely dying voice—had exploded, Kronos last dying act of breath itself, into a gruesome splattering thickly bloody mass.

So yeah, Percy knew very well what Will was talking about and a topic which had never been addressed properly with you, without sending you into a hysterical panic.

~~~

When Percy had retired back to his own Cabin, falling easily into sleep, he knew the dream—which were more a foretelling—he had, was a sign that this summer was just like the last few ones—filled with prophecies and adventures.

And in all this where you—getting dragged around, hair turning from ash grey into a snow white and leaving you more vulnerable crippled than before—losing perhaps the last part of your sanity to continue to live on.

Percy felt scared. He couldn't lose you. He just couldn't and he won't as you're his everything—his seashell to his waves.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Epilogue

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This contains a lot of unaliving, hence the chosen GIF. Proceed with caution. Also bb will take a break from latibule after this. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist, Latibule IX

Suga looked at Jackson junior with a fond smile on his face as the little child stabbed the cake with his little fork, the redness of the cake in perfect contrast to the white frosting of the red velvet. He ate it with such gusto, uncaring of the red crumbs coating his mouth.

“You kept your promise, ahjussi,” he mumbled with his mouth full that Suga couldn’t resist pinching his chubby cheek.

“Of course, I did,” he scoffed as he helped him sliced the cake. “I always keep my promises.”

Jackson looked up at him with his innocent eyes, his little legs swinging back and forth from the bench they were sitting on. “Then, do you promise to love my noona forever?”

“I promise.” It was the easiest promise he ever did.

“And do you also promise to marry her? She shouldn’t be alone, ahjussi. No one should be,” he stated with seriousness. Despite him being so young, he was so perceptive. He saw what loneliness could do to someone, and how it was slowly destroying his father. He didn’t want that for his favorite noona.

“I’ll marry her. Don’t worry,” he agreed with faux annoyance in his voice as though what he was requesting was such an imposition to him. It wasn’t. It was his most pertinent goal.

“Make sure you do! Or I’ll make my dad marry her!”

He was late, Suga thought. It had taken him longer than he would have wanted to. Jackson Junior sure did have a lot of energy for someone with such small body. He was smiling as he walked home.

Home.

When he thought of that word before, it never meant anything to him. It was just a noun, something that existed for everybody else but him. It was a place you returned to at the end of the day, someplace that brought you comfort. It was a place where you were safe, and warm, and loved.

Suga never did have that.

But then, you came. And now when he thought of home, he thought of you. You were his latibule. You were more than just a place, more than just a mere place to rest his weary body to. No, you were his hiding place. You were the one that saved him. You were his safe place.

And he would never leave you, nor would you leave him. He didn’t want to know what would become of him should he ever lost you.

Bitterly, though, his house was now on fucking attack and someone had the fucking audacity to ruin it.

He knew as soon as he walked near your house that something was fucking amiss. The hair on the back of his neck stood as though in warning about something. He never not believed his instincts, after all, it was what kept him still alive to this day.

His eyes roamed the area around your house, looking for the impending danger. He hated how he didn’t even have a fucking gun. He badly needed it now, he thought. The sun had now long set, surrounding his fucking house with darkness he didn’t need at the moment. He didn’t hear a thing inside your house, no movements could be heard nor seen. And he would bet his fucking life that something bad was happening.

Instead of entering the house through the front door, he automatically went to the back. His pace was brisk and determined, his steps light. He had memorized the whole layout and could avoid any steps that would give away his position. As soon as he reached the garden, he picked up the small hand trowel and tucked it behind his jeans. As quietly as would be allowed, he opened the back door, his eyes assessing the area with precision.

He knew you were in danger, yet what he never expected was from whom.

Sitting beside your trembling form on the sofa was his own fucking brother, Jung Hoseok.

He was smiling as though nothing was amiss, as though this was a fucking good visit.

He was smiling as though no one would die tonight.

“Brother, long time no see,” he greeted lightly. His other hand rested on the back of the sofa, his hand timidly holding his gun. “I have missed you so.”

Suga turned to look at your eyes, and he fucking hated how terrified you looked. This was what he was attempting so hard to avoid. This was his fucking nightmare. “Are you okay?”

You jumped when Hoseok touched your shoulder lightly with his gun, your lips quivering from the situation you found yourself in. “Of course, she is! You wound me, brother. I could never hurt a woman…unlike you.”

Suga’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes going to Hoseok’s amused ones. He scoffed, calmly walking around the house to get closer to the pair. “I do have to assume that this is your admission of being the Judas.”

“Hmm,” Hoseok thought, his fucking smile still on his face. “I guess that makes the two of us, right?” He turned to you, his tone friendly as though the two of you friends, as though he wasn’t holding a gun right now, “Did you know that this guy is the personification of Lucifer, himself? He’s the worst man out there. In fact, you should be more scared of him than me. I have never killed a woman before,” he smirked back at him, “cannot say the same thing for Yoongi.”

“Y-Yoongi?” you repeated, looking at Suga, your Suga with questions and a betrayal in your eyes.

A booming laughter from beside you erupted, making you jump lightly from your seat. Hoseok was laughing as though this was all funny, like your life wasn’t on the brink of collapsing. “You didn’t even tell her your real name? That’s so fucking funny, Yoongi-ah,” he chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes from laughing too hard. But then, in a somber tone he said, “That’s fucking low of you, Agustd.”

At your stupefied expression, Hoseok turned to you in faux pity, “Oh no…you didn’t know you were housing the fucking mafia lord. Poor you, sweetheart.”

And betrayal turned into anger. The dark emotions seeped through your eyes, tears blurring your sight. But through it all, his face remained impassive.

“I-is that true?”

“Don’t listen to him. You know me the best, Angel-”

“Do I?”

“You do. You love me, right? You said so yourself. You need to trust me-“

“That’s so fucking sweet. Sickeningly sweet. I’m over it,” Hoseok cut him off. He nodded at someone from behind him. And then he felt it. The cold barrel of the gun pointed at the back of his head. Yoongi glared at the man stupid enough to point a gun at him, and he recognized him as someone from the organization.

Fucking traitors.

“As if you know anything about love, Agustd. You’re fucking incapable of it.” Hoseok sighed before calmly standing and pulling you up with him. “You killed the only person I love. Don’t you think it’s only fair that I kill yours? An eye for an eye and all that shit?”

Yoongi stared at Hoseok and then at the trembling form of yours. “You’re making a mistake,” he stated, his demeanor cold as he stared back at the eyes of the man he once considered his brother. “Stop and all of this will be forgiven, Hoseok.”

The man merely scoffed, his head tilted, “You still don’t realize you are in the losing position, do you?” he inquired curiously, chuckling under his breath before losing all his emotions completely. “Take him away from here. And if you as so much make a fucking move, I will blow your angel’s head off. Do not test me, Yoongi. Or do. Let’s see.”

Yoongi knew he was saying the truth. And against all his instincts that were screaming at him to go to you, to save you, to pull you in his arms, he went with the other traitor outside the house. His eyes never left yours, not until he could no longer see you, and not until the man punched him with the end of the gun in the head.

You couldn’t see from the onslaught of tears flooding your eyes. Was this how everything was going to end? After you found a taste of happiness? Were you brought to this earth just to suffer?

The man called Hoseok let you go gently, and you were no fool to think that you were safe. No. Not with the barrel of gun pointed behind your back.

“I’m sorry you were dragged to this mess,” he murmured honestly, his arm was firm as he adjusted his gun. “Had you not saved him that night, none of this would happen.”

“P-please. Let m-me go,” you cried, your hands shaking from all of this. This was straight out of your nightmare. You had lived a fairly calm and peaceful life, until that tragedy. And even then, you were never at the end point of a gun. Even then, you were spared.

But alas, maybe your luck had ran out.

“You did nothing wrong. But this has to happen. I hope you forgive me.”

You nodded, slowly facing him. And when you looked up at his mad eyes, your stepped closer and pushed the gun on your head. If this was to happen, then he had to look into your eyes. You may be trembling with terror, but you were no pawn. You would take control of your life until the very end.

You saw him faltered, saw him gulping once. He didn’t want this, you thought. But his judgement was too clouded, and Hoseok was too far gone in his scheme. He had no way but to see this through. And just when he was about to pull the trigger, a knife was plunged to his arm, effectively making him dropped the gun.

A hand pulled you behind, shielding you from the bloodshed that was happening.

“Still a good aim, Namjoon hyung,” the man in front of you praised the other man who threw the knife, his deep, baritone voice almost familiar. “Good to know all your time spent in the courtroom didn’t make you soft.”

“Shut up. Take her away to safety, Taehyung.” The other man, Namjoon, ordered lowly as he wrestled with Hoseok who was grinning despite the blood seeping from his wound.

“Namjoon, came to join the party?”

“You need to stop, hyung!” Namjoon growled, willing the him to understand the gravity of the situation. “We can still fix this-“

“I don’t want to. You should have never saved me that night. You should have left me to die!” he grunted before punching him. Everything was fast, and before you could blink, the booming sound of gunshot resounded. You felt Taehyung’s hand pushing you, ordering you to run.

And you did.

You ran. But the outside was just the same as the inside. You saw Suga kneeling on the ground, behind him was the man who was grinning as he twisted his arms behind him. But when he saw you, he pointed the gun at you.

Suga watched as though it was a fucking movie. He watched it all in unhidden horrification as you fell the moment the bullet pierced into your fragile skin. He watched helplessly as your precious blood drenched the clothes you had carefully chosen just this evening.

He stood there frozen as the love of his life fell to the ground, your head hitting the cold, hard step with a deafening thud. He could have sworn his heart stopped in disbelief at someone’s audacity to hurt the woman he had only ever loved.

And the moment your eyes closed was the exact moment Agustd came back to life with a bloody vengeance.

A curtain drew closed on his mind, effectively clouding his self-survival. Yoongi had always been a one-track mind. Nothing else mattered but to you, he didn’t find it in himself to care whether he would have to break or even cut his own arm just to get to you. There was no doubt in his mind that he would get to you, that he would be able to save you.

No, it was a given fact. It was the most certain thing in his mind at the very moment. You had to live, otherwise he would need to burn this whole world down.

You simply had to survive if you didn’t want other people to suffer his wrath. There was no living without you, he thought. With a practiced movement he twisted his own arm away from the asshole that would soon leave in a body bag. The man looked at him in horror as Yoongi snarled at him, uncaring of the arm now hanging limply on his side. Hell, he couldn’t even feel it. He stepped back unconsciously as his former boss marched to him, his hands holding the firearm faltered for a moment. That small window of opportunity was all Yoongi needed, and before he knew it, the cold barrel of gun was pointed on his sweaty forehead. Yoongi didn’t even blink as he fired the gun, and horrifyingly, he didn’t even flinch when his blood splattered all over his face. It wasn’t enough. With the weapon he hid behind him, he stabbed the deceased man in the neck, blood sputtering in his face.

Yoongi immediately turned to you, but before he could get to you, a swarm of men dressed in black walked in with guns pointed at him. Of fucking course, Hoseok wouldn’t go to him with only a man in tow, Yoongi thought. And he was fucking outnumbered.

But nothing could deter him from reaching you, not before when you were alive, not now when you were bleeding on the ground. He didn’t even blink as he shot the gun at the man on his right. Surprise was his edge, but he needed to be smart about this.

It was him that they wanted, not you.

He stepped back, grinning at the audacity of these assholes. And just like he knew, they all followed him. He was running when four of his brothers stepped in with danger and madness in their eyes.

All of them were as deranged as Yoongi, they all just hid it better.

“Long time no see, hyung!” Jungkook greeted him, showing him his signature bunny smile before shooting the first man he saw.

Seokjin only looked at him, seriousness in his eyes as he assessed his bleeding head with clinical aura. He didn’t even blink as he stabbed the man in the neck stealthily. He was annoyed. He was mad. And most of all, he hated how they were almost too late. He had almost failed to protect the family he claimed as his own.

Jimin was uncharacteristically quiet, only going to work. Yoongi felt a little hopeful that this was not going to end badly. Not now that he had his brothers with him. He saw Taehyung and Namjoon joining the fight, their moves as precise as the other brothers. Their fight was away from you, just as Yoongi wanted.

He swore that once this was all over, that you would never be hurt again. This would be the last time you would be hurt. So, you had to fucking survive, lest he ruined this whole fucking world.

Yet, just when it was about to end, just when they eliminated the last traitor, your house exploded and a bullet pierced Yoongi’s chest.

After the ashes had settled and the fire was contained, after they cleaned the crime scene, after they brought Yoongi to the hospital, after desperately looking for you- all they found was your necklace.

They never did find you that night, nor did they find Hoseok’s body. The police they bribed said that it was possible your bodies melted from the intense fire, that you couldn’t possibly survive that.

That you were dead.

And you were declared dead.

When Min Yoongi woke up from his week-long coma, he unleashed hell.

Agustd was fucking back.

Season 2: Prologue

[pigfacedbitch]

Dating Clovis

summary : general headcanons of dating the son of Hypnos.

word count : 0.5k

type : headcanons

pairing/s involved : Clovis x Reader

warning/s : threatening someone (?), otherwise it's just fluff. 😘

here is my masterlist!

Note : I love me some sleepy boi😍 I am slightly obssesed with him since he was introduced in The Lost Hero, an underrated character if you ask me.

It's always funny to see the new campers' reactions when they hear that Clovis is dating you.

"Really? (Y/N) and Clovis? But she's so energetic and he's...not."

Honestly, many people feel bad for you because Clovis is not an ideal boyfriend. He's not exactly... what's the word? Present.

You're singing along by the campfire? He's sleeping on a log nearby. You're training to enhance your fighting skills? He's drooling all over shields. You're having a meeting with the other counsilors? He's dozing off beside you.

Not to mention, THIS BOY MANAGES TO FALL ASLEEP IN THE WORST OF SITUATIONS.

"(Y/N)! Wake your boyfriend up, the empousai almost killed him!"

"I swear to the gods, love! We are in the middle of a battle!"

He's a heavy sleeper, deal with it.

However, he tries to stay awake a little longer for your sake. Do the others take advantage of that? Yes. 😂

"Percy, what do you need my help with?"

"Actually (Y/N), we need Clovis' help."

"You need me to keep him awake again, is that it?"

"Well, yes-"

"Let my boyfriend sleep, Jackson."

The best method to keep him awake is by kissing his chubby cheeks, squeezing him in your hold, or ruffling that tangled, blonde hair.

You will hear whines of complain but once you stop, he will rub his head against you and ask you to continue. He's like a cat.

Naps together is a must! Clovis will drag you to Cabin 15 if he has to, you can't refuse. Not that you will.

Also provides you with the fluffiest of pillows, softest of blankets, and the most delicious milk you ever tasted (not that type of milk, you dirty minded-👁️👄👁️)

He may not take you on a date the normal way but he will use his ability to manipulate dreams— joining yours and his.

There, you can be wherever you want to. At the top of Eiffel Tower, swimming in the sunken Titanic ship, or performing with your favorite artist on a stage.

Anything you want, Clovis will make it happen. It's his way of making up to you, I suppose.

He always mutters your name in his sleep with a dreamy smile on his face. This often gets him teased by his siblings, or anyone else who witnesses it happen.

"Seriously (Y/N), I heard him moan your name!"

"Leo, stop it."

"It's true, it was a very good dream."

"Clovis!"

I don't think he ever gets assigned to any quests but you do. He's still asleep whenever you say goodbye to him but expect that he'll visit you in your dreams.

He'll ask how you're day went, updates with what's going on in Camp Half-Blood, spilling the usual tea; that kind of stuff. I assume time stops in dream land so you and Clovis have all the time in the world.

He will also visit dreams of the people you're on a quest with, warning them that if something happens to you they will never wake up again. This boy can be dark, don't test him.

You still wonder why all of them are so overprotective over you.

Hypnos seems to approve of your relationship because ever since you started dating his son, you never had trouble falling asleep again.

[brickmvster]

potato, potato, my little baby potato...

Pairing: Ellie x Dina

Tags/warnings: fluff, pregnancy, childbirth, domesticity, motherhood, slice of life, pregnant dina

Word Count: 1766

Synopsis: A peek into Ellie and Dina's life before JJ was born.

Author's Note: wrote this back in june of 2022 and posted it on ao3, decided to post it here too bc why not <;3 here is the ao3 link!! also idk how well this will do bc I know this site mostly has x reader fics but I love elliedina with my whole soul OKAY. please enjoyyy comments are appreciated!!

When Dina first noticed her small baby bump, it filled her with pure joy. She remembered standing in front of the bathroom mirror, gently rubbing her stomach, eyes full of admiration. Ellie was behind her, hands wrapped around her waist, experiencing a fluttery feeling in her stomach at the thought of her being a mother – which is something she never would've imagined in her wildest dreams. In a dangerous world like the one they navigated, she never believed parenthood would be an option for her, nor was she really interested in it. Ellie thought children were cute, sure, with their contagious giggles and chubby faces, but she knew taking care of one would be more responsibility than she felt she could handle. But with Dina being with her, she felt this unbridled sense of confidence. Dina was caring and loving by nature, and Ellie had a hunch motherhood would come to her easily – with Dina by her side she had someone's footsteps to follow in.

Despite being pregnant, Dina was still very active around the house, much to Ellie's disapproval. Anytime Ellie saw Dina on her feet, whether she was doing the dishes, taking out the laundry, or even getting up to put her plate in the sink, she always made a face similar to that of a displeased mother who couldn't get her sick child to lie down. But Dina always retorted with "It's not like I'm completely immobile yet, so don't worry." 

Dina also spent a lot of time preparing for their baby's arrival, with the help of Ellie and some fellow Jackson residents. 

Maria had connections with a lot of people in Jackson. Random strangers were kind enough to give Ellie and Dina a ton of baby-related things, like a crib, toys, and even books. They spent a whole day setting things up and figuring out where to put certain items, and when they had finished, Dina began to cry, feeling overwhelmingly grateful. Ellie was right there with her, rubbing her back in a soothing manner and holding her close, almost being brought to tears herself as she gazed upon the empty crib.

A few more weeks went by, and Dina's baby bump was getting pretty large. Dina started complaining more about her back hurting, and she couldn't be on her feet for very long. Nevertheless, she still helped Ellie around the house when she could, with small breaks in between. She began using the bathroom more frequently, which quickly began getting on her nerves, as it disrupted her sleep, or interrupted a good reading session. Ellie would always chuckle whenever they were in bed together, her nose buried in a Savage Starlight comic and Dina practicing her embroidery, when all of sudden Dina would groan loudly and reluctantly get out of bed, angrily making her way to the bathroom for the seventh time in just thirty minutes. 

Then, of course, it got to the point where walking was something Dina did only when she needed to. It had been eight months and her stomach looked like it was ready to burst. Ellie found herself helping Dina walk up and down the stairs, getting out of bed in the morning, and even getting up and off of the toilet. Jackson residents also gave away some maternity clothing, which Dina often lounged about in. Even though pregnancy was miserable for Dina, Ellie couldn't help but notice how beautiful she had gotten. Dina had always been attractive in Ellie's eyes, even since they were kids, but Dina really seemed to glow now. 

Before, Dina's hair was always in some sort of up-do, because she was always doing various tasks around the house and needed it out of her face. But since she's been lazing about more often, she usually wore her hair down, and Ellie was in love with how thick and long it had gotten, her unruly curls framing her face in the most breathtaking way. Her skin was brighter, and it almost seemed to shine in a way that totally captivated Ellie. Sometimes, Ellie would find herself ogling at Dina whenever she was doing some random, mundane task, to which Dina would always notice and turn into the prettiest shade of red.

Right on the cusp of her delivery date, Ellie and Dina had a small baby shower. They had a wonderful time, Dina spending hours unwrapping cute onesies, even more toys and a couple parenthood books. It all felt so normal, so domestic, that it almost made Dina cry again, but she kept it together for the sake of her guests. 

It was late at night when their child decided to arrive. Ellie was wide awake, reading her comic book, while Dina was trying to figure out a crossword puzzle. It was quiet and the room was basked in the cozy, soft lighting of the bedside lamp. Dina couldn't seem to figure out the last word of her crossword and decided to give up and try again tomorrow morning with a fresh mind. She turned to her side, groaning at the heaviness at her stomach, and shut her eyes. Ellie glanced at her briefly, smiling softly and whispering "Goodnight, babe." 

The room was quiet once again, Ellie getting immersed into the fictional world of Savage Starlight, but after about five minutes, Dina was startled awake, feeling wetness trail down her legs. She sat up rather quickly, as quickly as she could, anyway, and Ellie turned to her with a confused and slightly concerned expression. 

"Do you need to use the bathroom again?" Ellie asked, ready to get up and assist her girlfriend. Dina shook her head, her eyes having widened ever so slightly, cheeks flushed, and heart rate steadily increasing. 

"Ellie… I think… I think it's time." Dina said. It took a little bit for the words to register in Ellie's mind, but when they did, she was immediately kicked into action, setting her comic book down and getting out of bed. 

"Okay. Let's get you comfortable, yeah?" She said, peeling away the damp comforter that was on top of Dina. She had Dina lie down a little bit while still staying somewhat upright. Dina instinctively opened her legs, trying to get started on removing her underwear. Ellie helped her, pulling them completely off and discarding them haphazardly. Afterward, Ellie quickly ran to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, aiding Dina in rolling over so she could place it under her. She had also grabbed scissors and placed them on the nightstand.

Ellie's palms were sweaty. She remembered asking a mother at the baby shower how to prepare for birth, and Ellie tried her best to recall the woman's advice. It was stressful, trying to think while Dina was screaming at the top of her lungs, holding Ellie's hand so hard that her knuckles had turned white as bone. Ellie just tried to be as encouraging as possible, keeping her tone of voice even and steady throughout the whole process. 

Eventually, the room was no longer being filled with Dina's cries of pain but instead her labored breaths and the shrill sound of a baby crying. Their child had finally entered the world.

Dina, with tear streaked cheeks, immediately reached out for her child. Ellie held him briefly, smiling so hard her cheeks were growing sore. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in this ugly, ugly world. Ellie made quick work of cutting the umbilical cord before carefully handing him to Dina.

"Hello handsome." Dina spoke softly, grinning tiredly. Ellie was overjoyed at the sight in front of her. They were mothers now. For Ellie, this was the most nervous she had ever been. Not even fighting hordes of infected had her this scared. But she was also excited to step into this new era of her life. She knew that motherhood was going to be a bumpy ride, but so long as Dina was with her, she knew that she'd get through all of the trials and tribulations just fine. 

"I think I've got a name." Dina said, bringing Ellie out of her thoughts.

Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? Whatcha got?" She replied, a small smirk resting on her lips.

"How does JJ sound?" Dina asked. Ellie's smirk grew into a wide smile of approval.

"I like that. Suits him perfectly." She said. 

After JJ was born, life for the two new mothers definitely became more hectic. 

JJ would start crying late at night, and Ellie, wanting her beloved girlfriend to get all of the sleep she could get, was always the one who got up to calm him down. She would gently bounce him, humming some random tune to get him to relax, before lying him back in his crib. Ellie missed out on a few hours of sleep because of this, but she didn't mind it one bit if it meant Dina would wake up well rested (sometimes, though, Dina would pretend to sleep just to hear Ellie sing).

Feeding JJ could be nightmarish too. He was a picky eater sometimes, and would throw food on the floor or spit it out onto his bib, causing Ellie to roll her eyes and Dina to giggle at the sight. Dina was definitely more patient when it came to JJ but she knew Ellie would get there – slowly, but surely. 

Changing diapers was mostly a Dina thing until Ellie got the hang of it. Before, she would always put them on backwards, much to Dina's confusion. 

Aside from all of the difficulties, there were plenty of joyous moments that the two mothers shared with their son. Often, Ellie would play guitar for him. Whenever Ellie was out hunting, or doing some general sweeps around the outer perimeter of the house, Dina would spend that time coloring with him, or playing with wooden shapes. She tried to get him to participate in activities that would not only be fun for him but educational as well. If Dina was busy, Ellie loved to (carefully) run around the house with JJ on her shoulders, his contagious laughter bouncing off of the walls. 

At night, Ellie and Dina loved to read him bedtime stories, both playing multiple characters and doing the silliest voices they could come up with until JJ slowly drifted away into a peaceful slumber. 

The both of them would then climb into bed together, exchanging "I love yous," after which Dina would continue to read her parenthood guidebooks and Ellie would begin yet another chapter of Savage Starlight, the both of them sitting in a comfortable silence.

[pedrointofolklore]

Rosebud

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: carnations bloomed when you saw joel. too shy to admit your feelings, but too overcome to not, you began leaving flowers at his doorstep. 

warnings: very brief but graphic depictions of violence, mentions of death/grief, tragic backstory, emotional processing, reader is a loser who falls in love in two seconds, lots of metaphorical language, swearing, mostly just self-indulgent fluff, joel is soft, big age gap (reader is in late 20s), no smut, no use of y/n (reader has a nickname), jackson era.

word count: 6k

a/n: hey y’all. i’m delving into the world of fanfiction writing and i’m tentatively posting this as my first story. this story by @army-author is what inspired me here—i read it years ago and loved the concept ever since. i also super don't know much about flower gardening so apologies for any inaccuracies.

Your earliest memory was sitting in the garden with your mother one September. You were small then, no more than three years old, covered in soil and some residual stickiness from whatever fruit you’d just devoured, watching with a curious eye as your mother pruned her roses.

When you thought of her, you thought of that garden. In your memories, it was a labyrinth. Flowers, shrubs and vines overflowed the yard. You used to fear getting lost in the brambles, but at some point, you started to crave their thorny embrace.

It was a pink rose, so bright and intense, like a painting come to life. She shed the thorns, tucked it behind your ear and pinched your chubby cheeks. That was the first time she called you ‘Rosebud.’ Nobody ever called you anything else.

You couldn’t have known then that you were just a few Septembers away from losing her.

She died on the first day, in the centre of the garden. Your lasting memory of her was your father driving a pair of garden shears into her jugular. She collapsed to the ground, blood as dark as a crimson rose pooled around her as your father wept over her lifeless body. You sprinted inside and threw up.

She died a stranger. You didn’t understand what was happening to her then, but you understood that she was gone before the shears even entered her neck.

It haunted you for the next twenty years—but that person was not your mother. 

Whenever the wound opened, and that memory came flooding back, you closed your eyes and thought of her as she truly was—kind, gentle, passionate. You recalled her soft smile, her musical laugh, the books she read, the flowers she loved.

When you were a kid, you thought of her as the sun that kept those flowers alive. As you grew older, she became the sutures that kept you from falling apart.

You knew your father had no other choice, but you could never quite look at him the same. Still, he was all you had, and he kept you safe until the day he died.

It was your mother’s leather-bound notebook that kept you going. She listed every flower she could think of, and wrote the meaning next to it. That notebook went with you everywhere, all across the country. Every new species you came across, you found it in the book, memorised its meaning, and crossed it off your mental checklist.

Flower seeking had to be the most frivolous thing one could do at the end of the world, but it kept you close to your mother, and gave you some semblance of purpose. Each new flower felt like something blooming inside you—your own secret garden that grew from the depths of your soul.

Carnations bloomed when you saw Joel.

He first came to Jackson in December with a girl by his side. They were gone by the next morning, but you saw him. He was coming out of the bar, tugging his coat back on when you spotted him through the crowd of carolling townspeople.

Even from a distance, you noticed the pain in him—a pain similar to yours. There was a wistfulness in his face, a longing for something he missed, and a fear so intense it seemed paralysing. He clutched at his chest, holding in the marigold that grew where his heart should have been.

You wanted to know him.

He came back that spring with the same girl, and this time, he stayed.

It was a while before you spoke with either of them. Everyone who arrived in Jackson had a tendency to be closed-off at first, and you couldn’t fault them for that. You didn’t know where they’d been or what they’d done, but you knew they’d gone through hell.

You met Ellie first. She came by the greenhouse one day, arms crossed and face vacant. Her reticence might have been mistaken for hostility if you didn’t relate so much.

You tore your soil-covered gloves off and wiped a hand over your cheek, probably just further smudging whatever dirt was caked on there.

“Hi there!” You did your best to sound cheerful, to come across as someone who was definitely okay with unexpected visitors. “What can I do for you?”

“Maria told me you might need some help around here.”

You didn’t think you needed help, and it seemed like the girl wanted to be anywhere but here. But as you pondered her, you started to recognise what she was actually getting at.

She didn’t know what to do, but she needed to do something.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Ellie.”

“Nice to meet you, Ellie.” You held out your hand, which she stared at for a good couple of seconds before shaking. “Call me Rosebud.”

“You’re a florist named Rosebud?” She was incredulous, and you didn’t even care that she was making fun of you—it was the first time you’d seen her smile during this entire interaction.

“It’s a nickname,” you told her, “and I'm more of a floriculturist. If you want to help me out, grab some gloves and a trowel.”

“What the fuck is a ‘trowel’?”

You spent the next few hours with her digging holes in the soil, un-potting flowers and planting them in the ground. As apprehensive as Ellie had been to begin with, it didn’t take her long to warm up to you.

The first thing you learned about her was that she asked a lot of questions.

“Why do we have to move these?”

“It’s spring. They’ll do better in the ground.”

“Why didn’t Maria show us this place when we first came here?”

“It was winter. Half the flowers had gone to shit, so there wasn’t much to see,” you replied, flattening the soil around a sunflower plant.

The greenhouse had been established before you got there. Nobody ran it, it was something for everyone to tend to, but nobody cared enough to do so. The gardeners of Jackson preferred to focus on crops that could actually feed them. But then you arrived, and you knew how to grow a thriving flower garden, and with all the bees it brought, it only helped the agriculture. It also meant that Jackson had honey.

“This one’s cool. What is it?” Ellie asked. You looked over at the plant she was settling into the ground—a grassy little shrub with white flowers blooming at the ends.

“Starwort. It means ‘Welcome to a stranger.’”

“Appropriate,” Ellie said. “I didn’t know flowers had meanings.”

“It’s called floriography,” you replied. “I have a book all about it.”

Ellie stayed until the sun began to set, leaving in much better spirits than she arrived. You were used to working alone, and you thought you preferred it that way, but she turned out to be good company. You sent her home with a starwort blossom and a jar of honey as a thank you, and told her to come back any time. You really hoped she would.

You met Joel the next morning. 

There was a knock at your door, which you expected to be Ellie back again. Instead, you opened the door to find her guardian standing on your front porch.

Your eyes flicked shamelessly over his form. He was broad, strong, with plaid sleeves hiked up to his elbows—you didn’t know it was possible to be attracted to someone’s forearms. His features were beautifully angular, especially his nose. But it was his eyes that really got you. They were dark like coffee, deep and intense. You could fall into them and never stop.

The garden you carried in your soul had never felt more alive. It was weird you hadn’t spoken yet, but you worried if you opened your mouth, the brightest, reddest chrysanthemums would come bursting out.

“Good mornin’. Sorry to bother you,” Joel finally said, with the rehearsed politeness typical of a Southern man. There was still an earnestness to him, like he didn’t quite remember how to do this but he was determined to try. “I think Ellie was here yesterday?”

“That’s right.” You internally cheered when your voice didn’t fail on you. “Is that okay? I know I didn’t get your permission. She just kind of showed up.”

“No, that’s okay. I just came by to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“She's been struggling to…adjust, I guess,” Joel explained, “but she was in a good mood when she came home yesterday. I think being here helped her, so thank you.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say. People silently appreciated what you did for the commune, but nobody had ever gone out of their way to thank you for anything. It was a little overwhelming.

“Well, she’s welcome here any time.” You didn’t think Ellie was particularly interested in gardening, but you could see that the girl just needed to feel busy, and maybe needed some company. You were just glad she could find that with you.

“Thank you,” Joel said again. “What was your name, darlin’?”

“Just call me Rosebud.”

You expected a laugh, a mocking jab of some sort, but instead he just tilted his head and looked at you with complete sincerity. “Pretty. It suits you.”

Your cheeks were embarrassingly warm.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” Joel said. Your heart fell. “It was nice meetin’ you. And, uh, thanks again.”

He started to leave, but you weren’t ready for him to go. Before you could think it through, you called after him, “Wait.”

You might have imagined it, but for a split second after he turned back around, you could've sworn you spotted an eagerness in him, like he was hoping you’d say that.

“You can come inside,” you offered, “if you want.”

He did.

Five minutes later, Joel was standing in your kitchen, leaning against the counter. You could feel his gaze on you as you moved, getting the water ready and setting out two mugs.

“How do you like your coffee?” You were already sure of the answer.

“Black. No sugar.” Yep.

You poured the coffee into a mug, absent-mindedly blowing on it as you handed it to him. He didn’t wait for it to cool down before taking a sip, not even flinching at the heat.

You opted for tea with a generous amount of milk and honey.

“Thanks for the honey as well,” Joel said. “Ellie loves it. She’s never had anything so sweet.”

“That doesn’t surprise me if she grew up in a QZ,” you replied, turning to face him with your mug cradled in both hands. “I think I cried when I first got here and they actually had sugar.”

“When did you get here?”

“Around two years ago. My dad knew Seth—you know, from the bar—got in touch with him, and he told us how to get here,” you explained. You truly hated Seth, but he did save your ass and that left you obligated to be nice.

“Your dad’s not here, is he?” Joel spoke without any particular sentiment. It was an observation, plain and simple. You didn’t mind, you just shook your head. It felt normal to talk about your dad. You missed him, but his death wasn’t horrifically tragic to you—the man had a heart attack.

“What about you? I mean, how’d you end up here?” You were nervous about prying, or accidentally chasing him away before you really got to talk, but Joel had fascinated you since December. You needed to know more.

“I was in the Boston QZ for a while, left to look for my brother, found him.” He wasn’t going to get more detailed than that. Too much had happened that was difficult to talk about, and you could see that, because it was the same for you.

No matter how much you wanted to, you didn’t let yourself ask anything more. You didn’t ask why he’d been here in winter, why he left so soon, why he came back, why he didn’t come sooner if his brother was here, how Ellie fit into all of it. You didn’t ask, and you wouldn’t ask. All you could do was hope he’d open up in time.

It occurred to you just how different Joel looked now than he did in December, and not just because you were actually seeing him up-close. His whole spirit had shifted. Back then, he’d been like an open wound, barely being held together by exposed, bloody tendons that threatened to snap at any moment. He was different now—still wounded, but no longer in pieces.

There was something else in him too. Something dormant, but always on the verge of springing back to life. A quiet guilt.

“Flowers always been your thing?” Joel asked. You were grateful for the subject change.

“Pretty much. I used to know someone who loved them. Made me love them too.”

He nodded with an unexpected softness in his expression. It wasn’t pity, or even sympathy, but a warm kind of understanding.

“I know the flower stuff seems silly,” you said, looking down into the milky beige of your tea, “but it really is useful.”

“I know that,” Joel said. “I don’t think it’s silly.”

You could practically feel your chest split open that very second. Flowers sprouted from your heart, and they bloomed for Joel. They longed to reach out, wrap him up in their stems and vines and pull him into you.

Carnations. Chrysanthemums. Vervain.

You kept your composure until Joel left. You said your farewells, waved him off, shut the door, and immediately collapsed on your couch in a lovestruck heap. It was all so dramatic, the sofa may as well have been a bed of roses.

It wasn’t just that Joel was attractive—and fuck, he was attractive—it was the way he wholly and truly respected you. Respect was something you’d had to earn from everyone else around here, but Joel didn’t need any convincing. He saw your worth right away.

He was all you thought about for the rest of the day, the evening, until you went to bed that night. Even then, your mind wouldn’t stop racing.

These feelings were big, too big. Keeping them inside hurt, but you feared letting them out would be agony. They were safest with you, blossoming into flowers in your soul, where only you knew about them.

But still, you were wide awake, consumed by the urge to do something, say something.

So you got up, pulled your shoes on, went outside and picked a flower from your garden.

Jackson was desolate as you wandered down the street. The only residents awake at this hour were those on patrol. It might have been eerie if you weren’t so wound up. 

You scanned each house as you passed by, looking for Joel’s. Your heart pounded in your chest when you found it. You didn’t need to be so nervous, the lights were off, but you kept imagining someone walking out and catching you in the act. But you’d come this far, and his front door was just a few yards away.

You climbed the stone steps with a quiet urgency, twirling the flower between your fingers one last time before dropping it just outside his door.

A single gardenia.

You were going to leave it at just one flower—you didn’t want to be weird and scare Joel off before you really got to know him. But then Ellie came by the greenhouse again.

“Did you leave a flower on our front porch the other day?” she asked, watering a yarrow seedling.

“What? Why?” You felt so lame, and so stupid for forgetting that Ellie lived there too. Your gesture was bound to get intercepted.

“There was a white flower out there. I showed it to Joel, and we figured it was from you.” It was a very reasonable thing to figure considering it was from you.

“What did Joel say?” you asked, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt.

“He said it was for him.”

“So he took it?”

“Yeah,” Ellie said. “Don’t know what he did with it.”

Ellie wasn’t nearly as invested in this as you were, but it still sounded promising. Joel had accepted the flower, maybe even liked it. The thought made your stomach feel strange, like a bunch of petals were flurrying around in there.

“Well, it was for him…” you mumbled.

Ellie glared at you in feigned outrage. “I’m insulted.”

“What are you complaining about?” you laughed. “I gave you a flower.”

“It’s wilting.”

“Fine then”—you handed her a pair of pruning shears—“go cut yourself a new flower.”

She wandered around the greenhouse for about five minutes and came back spinning a flower between her thumb and index finger. It had pure white petals and a bright yellow pistil. “I chose this daisy.”

“That’s a cosmos,” you corrected. “It represents harmony and balance.”

Ellie assessed the flower in her hand, genuinely mulling over the meaning of it, and you realised how much you appreciated her. She saw value in something you cared about. 

“What did Joel’s mean?” she asked.

“I’m actually not sure about that one.” It was a total lie, but you sounded convincing enough that Ellie shrugged it off and carried on watering flowers.

You couldn’t help yourself after that. Knowing that Joel accepted your gift made you want to do it again. And again.

So you did. Every few days, when you were sure he and Ellie were asleep, you sauntered down to their house and dropped a flower outside the door. An aster, agapanthus, camellia…

Joel never mentioned it, and you never really expected him to, but the nods and soft smiles he gave you when he saw you around were enough to let you know he appreciated you.

But Joel would never know the true meaning of your flowers. It was better that way.

Maria and Tommy’s son was born later in the spring, and your garden had never seen so many visitors. The new parents were practically drowning in congratulatory flower arrangements, and eventually Tommy had to tell you to start turning people away.

One of these visitors happened to be Joel, and he was the one person you couldn’t turn away.

Unlike everyone else, Joel came to your door first. The slight nerves he’d had the first time he came over were gone, but so was the facade of sociability. Maybe this uncouth version of Joel should have irked you, but seeing him comfortable enough to drop the pretence just made you like him more.

“I need help with something,” he said, not even bothering with a hello.

“What is it?”

“A gift for the happy family,” he spoke bitterly, like he was actively trying not to grimace as the words came out.

“Flowers?”

“Flowers seem appropriate.”

Joel was strangely upset for someone who was welcoming their nephew into the world. You didn’t know the story between Tommy and Joel, just that they hadn’t seen each other for years before Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, and that Maria really disliked him.

But despite his sour attitude, it was clear Joel was trying. Whatever was weighing on him, he was pushing it down and choosing to be thoughtful for the sake of his family. Tommy could deal with one more bouquet.

You walked down to the greenhouse with Joel trailing behind you, his hands shoved into his pockets the entire time. On a better day, you would have tried to make conversation with him, but he obviously didn’t need that pressure right now.

He finally spoke up when you arrived at the greenhouse. “This place has seen better days.”

It wasn’t the flowers he was talking about, it was the structure itself. The contractor in him must have noticed the rusted metal pipes holding everything together, the holes and tears in the plastic sheets, and the fact that there was almost no room to walk.

“I know it’s bad,” you said with a nervous laugh. “It was built before I got here. I don’t think they used their finest materials.”

It was always cramped in here, but Joel being so broad and having such a presence made it even worse. He was closer to you now than he’d ever been. He smelled warm, like fresh coffee and leather and musk. It made your head spin.

“So, what kind of flowers are you thinking?” You needed to change the subject before you threw yourself at this man.

“Uh...pink?”

You laughed—you couldn’t help it. He couldn’t have been more vague if he tried.

“Why’s that funny?” He wasn’t mad, but he did seem impatient.

“Sorry,” you said, fighting back a smile. “Maybe you could elaborate on that?”

“I don’t know,” he groaned, running a hand over his prickly beard. “This is why I need help.”

You felt bad for laughing when he was so stressed out. He was overthinking something that should have been simple, and it made your heart ache for him. He was looking for guidance.

“We’ll do peonies for good fortune,” you told him, “and daffodils for new beginnings.”

His shoulders relaxed as some of the tension left him. Whatever was weighing on him was still there, but this was one thing that made it bearable. 

You walked back to your house after cutting the flowers, where there was actually space to work. You expected Joel to leave then, go home and wait until the flowers were ready like everyone else did, maybe even have you deliver them on his behalf, but he stayed by your side.

“How do you know all this stuff?” Joel asked, sitting across the table from you as you worked. “About flowers, I mean.”

You never got into this with anyone, but your inexplicable attachment to Joel compelled you to open up. Whatever pain resided in him reminded you of your own. He understood you.

“My mom had this book. She wrote down the meaning of every flower she knew of, and I guess I’ve memorised it all over the years,” you explained.

Talking about her didn’t hurt like you thought it would. It was actually a relief.

“When did it happen?” You knew what he was asking.

“First day,” you replied.

He nodded solemnly. “Me too.”

This wasn’t the first time you had seen through the gaps in Joel’s armour, but it was the first time he’d made the choice to let you. You didn’t know his limits, if those two words were as deep as he could get, but you wanted to see what would happen if you just asked.

“Joel?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t seem happy about this,” you said, straightforward but still cautious.

“I guess I’m not,” he admitted, looking down pensively.

“Why is that?”

“Just don’t understand bringing a kid into all this.”

You agreed with him. The people of Jackson were as safe as they could be, but outside the walls were infected, raiders, FEDRA, and a multitude of horrors too awful to speak of. It would only take one mistake for Jackson to be completely wiped out. You wouldn’t want to bring a child into a world like that either.

But you also knew that most people who had kids post-outbreak hadn’t done it by choice.

“It’s not as if people have access to birth control,” you pointed out, stacking peonies onto a piece of tissue paper. “But I don’t disagree.”

“It’s just a lot for me to wrap my head around,” Joel continued—or maybe he was starting on a completely different train of thought. “Tommy’s the uncle. He’s always been the uncle. I’m…“

He couldn’t say it. He didn’t have to.

“You still are,” you told him. “Tommy’s still an uncle.”

Joel was silent, letting your words sink in. It was cold comfort, and maybe you shouldn’t have said it, but it was what you believed.

“Why do people call you Rosebud?” The question took you aback. It was completely unrelated, yet felt so important. He was the first person in twenty years to ask you that question.

“My mom came up with it when I was little. It’s what everyone’s called me since.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Joel asked. “Seems like a constant reminder of what you lost.”

It was hard having to live without her, but you never wanted to forget what you lost. “I guess I like the reminders.”

His hand absent-mindedly fell to the broken watch on his wrist, and for a fleeting moment, you were seeing the man you first saw in December. An open wound. Marigold.

“She didn’t stop being my mom,” you said quietly. “I didn’t stop being her daughter.”

And as quickly as the wound opened, it was once again sewn shut. He even managed a smile. “You’re wise, kid. You know that?”

Kid.

Ouch.

It felt like a kick to the stomach. In an instant, the carnations that bloomed when you first saw Joel all those months ago, that had been so red and vibrant, faded into yellow.

You held yourself together until he left. You finished arranging the flowers, wrapped them up, handed them over to him, said goodbye and wished him luck, then trudged over to the couch and flopped down onto it—this time in a dejected heap.

It wasn’t as if you thought you had much of a chance with Joel, but this just felt so awfully final. It didn’t matter that you were basically thirty years old—in his mind, you were a kid.

It was embarrassing. You thought about the flowers you left—a quiet admission of feelings—and prayed the couch would swallow you whole and suffocate you. 

You’d gotten it all wrong. Joel never appreciated it. He probably thought it was weird and pathetic but didn’t have the heart to tell you. You wondered why he even accepted the initial flower, and if you weren’t feeling so spurned and humiliated, it might have dawned on you that you were overreacting.

You still left a flower that night, if only to get some closure. It would be the last one you ever left him.

A red tulip.

Joel came to your door one day in July.

You’d come to expect Ellie on your front porch at least once a week, but Joel wasn’t a surprise either. You were friends now, even after such an embarrassing rejection.

Joel still never mentioned the flowers. He was probably relieved when you stopped leaving them and wanted to pretend it never happened, and that was fine by you.

Being friends didn’t help matters though. He was always rough and grumpy in his Joel way, but he was sweet too. So sweet. It felt impossible to move on.

“Hey, Joel,” you said. “Need help with something?”

“I wanted to help you, actually.”

“Me?”

“I can’t keep lookin’ at that greenhouse,” Joel said. “It’s a piece of shit.”

You had to laugh at his honesty. “You want to patch it up?”

“Was thinking of taking the whole thing apart and rebuildin’ it.”

The offer stunned you. It was so generous and so out of nowhere. Your first instinct was to say no, that it wasn’t worth the trouble, but something stopped you. It was Joel coming to you in earnest and saying he wanted to help. It felt like an insult to deny him.

You smiled warmly and nodded. “Okay.”

“When can I get started?” he asked.

Shit. You had dozens of flower pots you didn’t know what to do with. “Uh, I’ll have to empty the greenhouse first. I guess I'll bring the flowers here in the meantime.”

“Ellie and I can help with that,” Joel said. “I’ll go get her.”

You blinked at him. “Now?”

“You got other plans?”

You absolutely did not. “Ah, no. Now is good.”

“Great.”

That was how you spent your day, lugging flower pots from the greenhouse and unloading them in your front yard with Joel and Ellie in tow. It was so lovely it bordered on being painful—pink roses unshed of their thorns pierced your heart.

You let yourself imagine for a moment that this was reality. That you, Joel and Ellie were a weird, happy family. The carnations in your soul had never been more yellow, and you instantly regretted indulging in that particular fantasy.

Joel was already at the greenhouse when you went there the next morning. He was up on a ladder, and half of the structure was already torn down. Rusted metal pipes and discoloured, ripped up plastic sheets were piling up a few feet away.

“Need any help?” you called out.

He looked down at you and smiled—a real, wide smile you hadn’t seen on him before. “You know what you’re doin'?”

“Not really.”

“Then, no,” he replied. “Don’t want you droppin’ anything on that pretty little head.”

Huh?

You flushed all over, wishing your couch was here so you could collapse onto it. Less than two months ago he was calling you a kid, and now he thought your head was pretty. The thought crept in that maybe he was purposely messing with you, but you liked Joel too much to entertain the idea.

“Well, I probably can’t help with the physical labour,” you said, cursing how nervous your voice sounded. “But if there’s anything else…”

“You’re a sweet one, Rosebud,” Joel said. He had to be doing this on purpose. “You just let me do my thing, and we’ll leave it a surprise.”

You laughed. “In other words, you’re telling me to get lost?”

He grinned at you fondly. “Just trust me.”

It only took one exchange for that hope to come back to life. You tried to stop it, tell yourself he was just teasing, that he didn’t mean it that way, but it was too late. Those carnations were already morphing back into a searing red.

You wanted to come by everyday and watch him work, but you stayed away and waited for him to come to you. It only took a few days for him to show up at your door, looking infuriatingly hot covered in blotches of sage green paint.

“Is it ready?” you asked.

“It’s ready.”

You followed along behind him, keeping your eyes down so you didn’t accidentally spot the new greenhouse before he was ready for you to look. You ended up just ogling his ass, which was a decidedly better and much more pinch-able sight than the ground.

“Look now.”

You lifted your gaze, and your hands flew up to your mouth as you let out a dramatic gasp.

It wasn’t just good, it wasn’t just an improvement, it was beautiful—masterfully pieced together with timber and painted the same sage green that Joel was sporting on his clothes. And it was bigger. There would actually be space for you to walk around inside.

Joel started to panic from beside you, and you realised you were crying. “Is it the green? I can repaint it if you hate it.”

You seemed to have lost the power of speech to reassure him, so instead, you threw your arms around him and held tight. The suddenness of it shocked him, and his hands found your waist. You weren’t sure if he was about to push you away or pull you in.

“So, you like it?” he asked.

“I love it,” you snivelled into his shoulder. “Thank you, Joel.”

He hugged you back then, caging you in with his big arms and making you feel so safe. You felt a prickly sensation on your temple as he brushed his lips against it. 

Red tulips were threatening to burst out of you in droves. You didn’t want to let go, but you were seconds away from making a confession you couldn’t take back if you spent too much longer in his embrace.

You pulled yourself away, and even with the sun beating down on you, you missed his warmth.

He walked you back home, came inside when you offered him iced tea (you were out of coffee), drank it all even if it was too sweet for him, and all you could do was thank him repeatedly for what he’d done.

“Don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I wanted to do this for you.”

What did that mean?

“I’m sorry I never said anything,” Joel continued, a pink flush apparent on his cheeks.

“About what?” You knew exactly what.

“The flowers. I wanted to thank you, but I didn’t know how. I’m not used to it.”

“Used to what?”

“Kindness.” He almost winced, like it hurt to say.

“It was weird. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t weird,” Joel assured you. “It was…nice. Bummed me out when you stopped.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I get it.”

You didn’t know what to say at this point. You didn’t want to be talking about any of it, and you were about to tell him that, ask him to move on from this, until he decided to put you on the absolute spot.

“What did they mean?”

Fuck. “Hm?”

“The flowers,” he said. “You said flowers have meaning. What did they mean?”

“I actually don’t know those ones.” That harmless little lie worked on Ellie, but Joel saw right through it.

“Why are you lying to me?” He didn’t even sound angry or annoyed, just genuinely curious, and a little sympathetic.

You considered doubling-down, insisting you didn't know, but you couldn’t do that him. It was a vulnerable conversation for not only you, but Joel as well. You understood how hard this was for him, and you cared for him too much to shut him down.

But you couldn’t say it, not verbally. Instead, you grabbed the notebook that was laying on your coffee table and held it out to him. There was a split second as he was reaching for it where you imagined yourself tugging it back out of his reach, forgetting about this entire thing, but then it was in his hands and it was too late. Nothing would ever be the same.

You held your breath as he flipped through it, his eyes flicking over the words. His face gave nothing away, but his finger was tracing over something.

Red tulip - declaration of love. 

He gently shut the book and set it down, and your eyes stayed firmly on the floor, hoping if you stared at it long enough it would split open and consume you.

“Are you surprised?” You couldn’t project your voice above a whisper.

“I guess not,” Joel said. It was the honest answer, and the one you most expected. “I thought you were just bein’ nice, then Ellie kept insisting you were interested.”

That girl was smarter than you gave her credit for—and you already thought she was very smart.

“I thought there was no way,” Joel continued. “You’re sweet and young and so pretty. I’m just an old man.”

“I don’t care how old you are,” you replied.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things...”

“I don’t care what you’ve done. I care who you are now.”

You were looking at him now. He looked moved, rapt, and not at all like someone about to deliver a devastating rejection.

“And you want me?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause where neither of you said anything, but the air was thick with an unspoken question: Where do we go from here?

“Can I kiss you, Rosebud?”

You nodded, and he did. It felt like dozens of chrysanthemums, camellias and carnations all springing to life under your skin.

He was gentle in a way you never could have imagined, cupping your cheek with his palm and holding your waist with the other. It was reminiscent of the hug you’d shared earlier, and you wondered if he’d wanted to kiss you then.

His lips were rough, a little chapped, but soft in the way he moved them. This wouldn’t be how he always kissed, you were sure of that. Someday it would be messy, frantic, all-consuming. But this careful, slow movement of his lips against yours was all you needed right now. 

He wanted to be gentle with you, because he cherished you like a rosebud.

flower translations:

rose (pink) - perfect happiness

rose (dark crimson) - mourning

carnation (red) - admiration

marigold - grief, despair

starwort - welcome to a stranger

chrysanthemum (red) - i love you

vervain - enchantment

gardenia - you’re lovely

yarrow - healing

aster - symbol of love

agapanthus - secret love

camellia (pink) - longing for you

peony - prosperity

daffodil (bunch) - new beginnings, hope, good luck

carnation (yellow) - rejection, disappointment

tulip (red) - declaration of love

rosebud (red) - pure, lovely

[romanarose]

Santa Joel-y

Chubby!Joel Miller x chubby!fem!reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Summary: Joel is insecure about his weight, you help him feel beautiful.

Warnings: Weight gain, insecurity around weight, mentions of eating disorders and bulimia, reader was bulimic, PIV sex, handjob, brief mentions of drinking, creampie.

Immersability: Reader is fem, has hair, is chubby, reader was at least pre-teen in the 90's so not much of an age gap. Reader isn't necessarily Christian but celebrates Christmas at least with her kids at the school

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

He would kill Tommy right now if it didn’t mean dealing with Maria.

Joel had said ‘absolutely not’ to Tommy’s request for him to play Jackson’s Santa Claus, saying yeah, he may have gained a few pounds since settling into Jackson, but he wasn’t THAT fat.

Naturally, Tommy was annoying about it but Joel did not back down. Neither did Tommy. So, Tommy sent you. You, the school teacher. You, the woman that made his heart palpitate but he did not have a crush on you, because he was 57. You, who Joel had slowly been getting to know and would even sit with him and Tommy or Ellie, both of him teased him relentlessly about his crush. You, who said that you would be dressed up as an elf and Joel agreed faster than he was proud of.

And now, you, who conveniently brought your tape measure as if you knew he would say yes, were measuring him and finding out just exactly how fat he’d gotten.

“41 inches” You declared with the tape measure around his waist. Joel was in charge of writing everything down. 

“Jesus christ” He mumbled, writing down as he was told.

You sat back on your hunches, and it took everything in Joel to not look down. For one, he did not want to look at his stomach right now, but also if he saw you on your knees looking up, he was afraid he’d get a boner.

“Joel?” You ask him, fingers adjusting his pants to measure correctly, cold fingerprints brushing his love handles.

He wanted it to stop. “Hm?” but he never wanted it to end. He liked your skin on his, even if it was touching his fat stomach.

“You know putting on weight can be a good thing, right?” You moved to stand up, being done measuring for his costume. 

Joel held out a hand for you, helding to pull you up. “I don’t really see how.”

The smile you gave was so soft and kind, it made Joel’s heart flutter. Definitely not a crush though. 

“It means your safe, you’re eating 3 meals a day, you aren’t purely on survival mode. You body is probably so used to starvation, it’s holding onto everything it can. It’s just a sign of things… looking up.” Joel didn’t look convinced. “Look, Joel…” You shove your hands in your pocket, blushing a bit. “This might be a lot but, we’re friends, right?”

Joel’s eyes widened. Friends? Fuck, he didn’t think you considered him a friend. Sure, he took the long way home after church and stopped at your house a lot, asking if you needed a hand with the shoveling. Sure, you always took him up on it and then invited him to stay for lunch. Sure, sometimes if the timing was right, Joel walked by the school as the kids were leaving and offered to walk you home. Jackson was a safe place- he’d never let Ellie run around the way she did if he didn’t think it was safe. Still, couldn’t be too careful.

“Yeah, yeah uh, we’re friends.” He agreed, buckling up his pants again.

You looked so earnest as you spoke. “Years before the outbreak, I had an eating disorder. Pretty bad, this was before Princess Diana talked about being bulimic, so there was like… not much help for that kind of thing. Had to handle it on my own.”

“Shit.” Joel whispered, hurting for you. The idea of someone as perfect as you feeling that low that you needed to hurt yourself that way… He thought you were stunning, every curve. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. The point is, when I entered recovery- the dozen attempts it took- I gained back not only the weight I lost, but a lot extra. I found out later that was common. It was difficult, but I learned to look at my weight gain with pride. It meant I was no longer harming my body like that.” You took your hands out of your pockets and grabbed both of his hands. “I don’t wanna tell you how to think, but just know that this change means you and your daughter are safe, okay?”

Joel felt like he could pass out, his body suddenly so warm from your touch. “Okay- I- thank you, darl’n.” He blushed.

“And for what it’s worth…” Hesitating a bit, you lean in and kiss him on the cheek. You feel him giving your hands a squeeze. “I think you’re very handsome. I’ll see you on Christmas, Joel.”

*

“Why the fuck are you so giddy.” Ellie asked, mouthful, shoveling the pancakes Joel made her into her mouth.

“Wha-” Joel turned around. “Im not- I’m not giddy. I’m a grown man, you little shit.” But he was smiling. 

“Does it got something to do with the pretty school teacher you’re gonna be with all night?

Joel threw the washcloth at her.

*

Besides the fact a child said he wanted his dad for christmas, his dad who died before they came to Jackson, you thought things went smoothly. He dressed up in the costume you’d made for him, and you were in a green elf costume. You thought you looked pretty cute, if you were being honest. Joel did a good job, and after the kids cleared out and it was just you and Joel, you made sure to tell him.

“I was really impressed with you, you got really into it.” You Laughed, holding a drink as Joel flopped down on a chair.

He groaned when he settled. “God, I know I’m getting old now. Shit was exhausting. I don’t know how I can still do patrols and fighting raiders just fine but this has me pooped.”

“Kids are tiring.” You hand him his drink.

“God bless you and your work, honey. Doing God’s work there.” He said with a small chuckle and took a deep drink.

“Hm.” You hummed. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired too, mind if I take a seat?” You say, walking over to him.

“Oh!” Joel scrambles to try and sit up from the only chair in the room. “Shit, sorry, come sit here-”

You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down and straddling your legs over his lap, taking a seat on him. “This okay?” You whisper in his ear.

“Y-yeah,” Joel whimpers. He looks up at you hand gripping his mug of beer like a life line. 

Finishing your wine, you set the glass down and place your hands around Joel’s mug, guiding it to his lips and pushing it up. Gently tilting, you watch Joel’s throat bob as he swallows the rest of his drink, setting his glass next to yours.

“You know I think you are very handsome, right?” You ask his, running your hands over the red of the suit, feeling the swell of his belly.

He swallows thickly. “Yeah, you um… you mentioned it…” Joel admired your in your green elf costume, and he was actually aware he was still wearing the full Santa costume.

Your hands find their way back up. “And I think you are very sweet.”

“I, um… I don’t hear that one very often.” Joel’s face feels warm, that warmth spreading through his body and settling into his lower stomach. 

“Mmmmm” You touch his fake, thick, white beard, but take it off in favor of his patch greys. You kept the hat on.“And a good father. That’s a very attractive trait.”

His chest is rising a little too much to act natural. “I’m… trying…” He had a death grip on the chair handles.

“You can touch me, you know…”

Tentatively, Joel settles his hands on your hips, and when his touch makes you smile, he ventures a bit further. “I’d like to kiss you if I could.”

You look down at Joel, hands warm on his scruffy face, the red and white all over his full body. “I’d love that.” His face still in your hands, you lean down and slot your lips up against him, taking his mouth in yours.

“Mmmm” He moans, and you can’t help but grind down onto him, feeling the swell of your stomach against his. The movement caused his hardening cock to twitch in his pants.

“Ooohh, fuck, Joel.” You can’t help whining into his mouth.

His body stiffened, his grip on your wide hips pushing you back away from his erection. “Shit, sorry-”

You grind down on him agsin feeling his full hardness and kissing him wetly. “Don’t ever apoligize for that, fuck… Joel, I want you.” 

He’s still hesitant, breathless, Joel closed his eyes. “I dunno if you want that, honey. Made a real nice costume but the body under it ain’t what it used to be.”

“Joel.” You take his hand. “Do you want me? We ain’t gotta do nothing you don’t want to…”

Joel’s next words are barely ground out through gritted teeth and tightly shut eyes. “I, fuck, I want to… I just don’t think you’re gonna want me.”

With a soft sigh, you bring his hands to your chub. “Feel that?”

He can’t get words out, eyes still screwed tight.

“Do you like how my body feels?”

“So much.”

You drag his hands up your front, planting them firmly on your tits that he was happy to play with as you put your hand on his fat stomach. “Then can’t you understand how beautiful I find you?” You rock your hips, and a light whine escapes him. Joel motherfucking Miller whined for you. “Can’t you see how fucking hot you are?”

With his hands massaging your breasts, swiping his thumb over the sensitive nipples and rolling them in his fingers, his beard scrapping your face as you kiss his neck, you are fucking soaking your custome made green pants. 

“Mmmaybe?” He’s losing control, becoming needy under you, and you needed him in turn. 

“Fuck, Joel, can I feel you? Can I touch you? Please?” You beg.

When he frantically nods, you reach for the big black belt and undo it, slipping your hand in his pants to pull out his cock. “God, Joel… fuck your cock is as thick and beautiful as you are…”

Joel’s hands wander, traveling the length of your body despite being unable to open his eyes to you as you jerk him. “You’re fucking sexy, Joel, all of you. All of us. Every inch. Every scar, every bit of fat and hair loss and sagging is beautiful because we lived, we’re alive and we’re happy, and god Joel, I’m happy right now with you.”

He mumbled something you couldn’t understand as his hands groped at you desperately.

“What did you say, baby? You can say no, it’s alright.”

“Fuck me, please?”

You spit on your left hand, using it to fist his cock while your right explores his body. “That’s all I needed to hear, handsome.”

Joel helps you sit up, strong arms practically holding you up as you maneuver off your pants and line him up at your entrance. You place a hand on his meaty chest and one soft on his cheek “Joel? I need you to look at me when I fuck you, okay? Need your eyes on me when I take you inside me, alright?”

Still clearly nervous, Joel opened his eyes slowly but god he was blessed with a sight when he did. You, your green outfit and little elf hat and you smiling down at him. You were a vision. And you wanted him.

Your eyes were locked on him as you sunk down, your eyebrows pinched together in concentration as you took him, your perfect lips held tight.

“It’s alright, darl’n.” Joel says soothingly, rubbing your thick thighs. “Just go slow… You’re nice and wet for me already, arentcha? Yeah, thatsa good girl… mess girl, fuuuuuck.” Joel dropped his head back, groaning obscenely when you were fully seated, and almost dropping the Santa hat but you caught it. You didn’t want to miss out on how cute he looked in it. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”

You smile at him, feeling stretched to the very limit but so, so satisfied. “Kiss me, Santa” With your fingers entangled into his hair, you pull him towards you as you begin bouncing on his cock, repeatedly filling yourself up. His taste was exquisite, but nothing compared to his smell, he was woodsy and leather and safety, and you wanted to melt into all the senses he surrounded you with. The masculine smell, the sweet taste, the feeling of his thick member throbbing inside you and his hands gripping at your ass, his belly rubbing on yours, the sight of him, red and white on brown skin, the grunts as he thrust up… Joel was all that mattered, Joel was all you knew.

“Fuck, Joel, baby you feel so goddamn good.”

Joel moaned into your mouth, moving his hands from the fat of your sides to unbotton your green shirt.

“Joel, ‘salittle cold, don’t wanna be naked”

He paused his movements. “Is it okay if I unbutton a few so I can see your tits?” He looked up at you, hopeful but clearly allowing you to say no.

“I like that idea, handsome.”

When Joel took your breast in his mouth, he paid no mind to the way they sagged and stretched, he devoured you like you were a supermodel, licking and softly nibbling over every inch of the flesh before suckling on the tender nipple.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, bucking a bit as you rode him with everything you had. You place two hands on his protruding belly for leverage, feeling the fat on his chest graze over your fingers as you press down when you bounce. “Gonna cum, Joel, you’re gonna make me cum.”

He removed his mouth only for a moment, frequently going back to suck at your tits while trying to get his sentence out. “Me to, honey *suck* where do you *lick* want me?” His mouth was back on you in a second.

“Inside, cum inside.”

A loud whimper, and he sped up his movements, fucking up into you until you cry out in pleasure, screaming out “OH SANTA!” As you cum around him, Joel right behind. He fills you up with his warm cum, never stopping fucking you until you road out all of your orgasm and his dick was limp inside you. Exhausted, you fall onto his plush body with a cold sweat, kissing tenderly at Joel’s stubbly neck. 

Pudgy fingers were buttoning up your shirt. “‘S cold, darl’n. Let’s get your pants on.”

“Mmmmm, just a minute. Like feeling you inside me.”

“Like being inside you.”

Joel’s strong arms wrapped around you, warm and loving and pulling you closer, but then moved to your thighs. Sweetly, Joel rubbed your legs as the heat of sec cooled on your body, fingers occasionally digging into the flesh.

Likewise, you wrap your arms around his full body, feeling the way his fat felt so right against you. 

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

“Merry Christmas, honey.”

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

So, I don't celebrate christmas, but I wanted to put this out there <3

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO THOSE WHO DO!

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @whatthefishh @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin

[noxturnalnymph]

My 2023 Fanfic-Wrapped

I only really started reading Pedro fanfic in April or May, I got started on some of the well-known fics on AO3 that were recommended on tiktok. However, one of them brought me to tumblr (because I wanted to see more from this author, I wanted to see their moodboards and their sneak peeks). And I haven’t left since.

I even decided to try my hand at writing as well. It’s been a LOT of fun. (My masterlist is here if you want to see all the weird shit I wrote so far). Thank you to everyone who has supported me in all my efforts and to all the friends I've made.

I wanted to create this list to highlight some of my faves this year. If you haven’t read these, they all come highly recommended by me.

I'll be reblogging everything on this list throughout the day. If you’d like to reblog this post and add some of your own favorites from this year - PLEASE DO!!!  I would absolutely love to get new recs!! Let’s share the love!!

In no particular Order - Here are some of my favorites from the year!

Fave Writers (I’ll read anything they write)

@toxicanonymity (joel miller masterlist) Personal Faves: NightWalks!Joel, Vamp!Joel (both Ongoing)

@theywhowriteandknowthings (masterlist) Personal Faves: Creep - Joel, Princess and the Duke - Dave York (Ongoing)

@chloeangelic (masterlist) Personal Faves: Love Me Back - Joel, Seeking What is Desirable - Joel (Ongoing)

@goodwithcheese (masterlist) Personal Faves: The Layover - Frankie, Paranoid Heart - Javi P (Ongoing)

@beskarandblasters (masterlist) Personal Faves: Me and My Husband - Din Djarin, New York or Nowhere - Bodega!Joel (Ongoing)

@absurdthirst (masterlist) Personal Faves: Kinktober 2023 Oct 15th - LactationKink!Dieter, A Marriage of Convenience - Regency!PeroTovar, (they have SO many good ones)

Fave Ongoing Series

Mall Rats (Jackson-era!Joel) by @strang3lov3

Oh! Honey (Monster!Joel x Mortician!Reader) by @lincolndjarin

Hard to be Soft, Tough to be Tender (Pimp!Joel) by @iamasaddie

On the Waterfront (Chubby!Mafia!Frankie) by @beefrobeefcal

The King’s Queen (Royalty/ArrangedMarriageAU!Javi G) by @wardenparker

From Eden (PlantShopOwner!Joel x Married!F!Reader) by @5oh5

A Lover’s Pinch (Professor!Joel x Student!Reader) by @hier--soir

Into the Beat of the Night (Bi!Frankie x afab!gn!OC) by @perotovar

Fave Finished Series

A Stranger’s Heart Without a Home (Jackson-era Joel) by @morning-star-joy (This is the one that brought me to tumblr. Doni created this beautiful story and it has a very special place in my heart.)

Late Night Texts (Post-Colombia Javier Peña) by @undercoverpena

Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband (Married!No-Outbreak!Joel) by @netherfeildren

Something New (SexWorker!Frankie) by @prolix-yuy

Something Wretched About This (DrugDealer!Joel) by @covetyou

Pioneer Frankie (A series of stories about Pioneer!AU!Frankie) by @frannyzooey

Trial & Error (No-Outbreak!Joel helps Tommy & reader get pregnant) by @thetriumphantpanda

Pleased to Meet You (Meeting Francisco Morales - twice) by @intheorangebedroom

Fave Characters

Husband's Best Friend Joel Miller (with Married! Reader) (HBF!Joel) by @gracieispunk

Jackson-Era Vampire! Joel Miller (A Secret Worth Keeping) by @multiversed-daydreamer

Soccer-dad No-Outbreak Joel Miller gets a racy text from an unknown number (The Right Wrong Number) by @proxima-writes

Demon! Ezra (with Witch! Reader) (In Every Lifetime) by @xdaddysprincessxx

Protective Jackson-Era Joel Miller (A Safe Haven) by @joelsgreys

THROUPLE Frankie x Joel x F!Reader (Catalyst Masterlist) by @ezrasbirdie

Sleezy Gas Station Joel *MC* Miller (Meet Me in the Back) by @atticrissfinch

Porn Star Joel Miller (with Porn Star Reader) (I Know it When I See it) by @bageldaddy

Fave Dark/DDDNE Fics (These fics aren’t being put in the corner but they do come with some very special warnings so I wanted to separate them)

Trick or Treat? (DDDNE Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York x F!Reader) by @morallyinept

Bullet For You, Darlin’ (DDDNE Dark!Raider!Joel Miller) by @kewwrites

Online Friends (Cherry Bomb) (Dom!Joel, online/phone sex) by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Blessed Be the Fruit (Dark!DubCon! Joel Miller - Handmaid’s Tale AU) by @romana-after-dark

Red Light (Dark!Obsessive!DubCon! Landlord Joel Miller) by @kiwisbell

The Burglary (DDDNE burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller) by @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape

I don't know man.... I just know I like it

Menuet (It’s an animal/shapeshifter/monster fucking thing (Pero Tovar) that fundamentally changed who I am as a person) by @psychedelic-ink

Liquid Gold (Joel - and Tommy? - help Pregnant!Reader out when an issue arises) by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Get a Grip (Watch Model!Joel Miller x Manicurist!Reader Hand/GloveKink!) by @bonezone44

Mother Who Provides (Mommy!Kink Joel gets breastfed) by @pedge-page

Goodbye 2023, See you all next year!!!!

[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Joel Miller One Shot

Please welcome Joel Miller to Beefro's Bistro!

a Joel Miller & his Darlin' One Shot: The Way into a Man's Heart

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You've been traveling companions and now that you're in Jackson, Joel's getting comfortable. (Post Outbreak)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 3,650

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), p in the v - unwrapped (don't be silly, cover you willy, kids!), talk of eating, belly praise, self esteem, weight gain, flannel shirt button popping

Author's Notes: FINALLY! The long awaited addition to the Menu is here! I wrote the majority of this listening to Hozier's new album so please forgive my non-fluffy heart if there are traces of fluff. Thank you to the Nonnie who submitted the illuminating THOT!

Major thanks to @harryleatherfit for their support, and to all those on the TAGLIST - this one's for you, babes 💜 The THOT TANK is always open, Friendos

--------<3----------

They found you in an abandoned apartment building somewhere in the Midwest, and after being cooped up together – surviving – for few days, it was settled that the duo had become a trio. Joel came across as a gruff and emotionless man and while he made you feel supremely unwelcome at first, he grew to at least give you the impression that he tolerated you for Ellie. For the next several months, it was just the three of you, trekking through the ruins of America.

The three of you finally found Joel’s brother and were tentatively welcomed into Jackson. It had taken some time for you, Joel, and Ellie to find your bearings after you’d arrived being that, for the first time in a while, you were expected to act in a civil manner towards others in proximity instead of defending yourselves and fighting for resources.

You and Joel were not a couple. He had never shown any interest towards you beyond your uncanny fishing ability, while you tried to not think of him as anything more than muscle and reinforcement in your travelling party. You were attracted to him, and you did your damnedest to squash any and all thoughts of him being more than a survival companion. This was made worse for you as Ellie would not even discuss the idea of you not being under the same roof in Jackson as she and Joel. Maria and Tommy had set the three of you up in a 3-bedroom home across from them, and you did your best to find a homey-rhythm as a trio.

While you and Ellie had taken to this new life with a relative ease, Joel was almost fighting it. Ellie let her curiosity run wild and you tried to find a social group, but Joel fought back. He didn’t engage with anyone that weren’t a select few outside of sideways glares and grunts in responses to hellos. He declined to get new clothing and outright refused to sleep in a bed until Ellie threatened to spill his deep, dark secrets to you that she had learned through his sleep talking. Even with food, now that there wasn’t a food scarcity or a worry about the next meal, he still refused to stray from his food rationing way of eating. He didn’t go to the mess hall to eat, opting instead for keeping to himself in the house, picking away at whatever was on hand in the pantry.

That was, until you had been assigned kitchen duty due to your skills from working as a teenage line cook in a diner, pre-apocalypse. You’d brought some food home from the mess hall one evening, and Joel picked at it, grumbling that it was decent and wouldn’t be opposed to you bringing home more.

So, you did. And he began to actually sit at the table and eat, but he didn’t come to the mess hall until the following week when you’d told him you were making a beef brisket buffet on the Friday night. While he’d shown more enthusiasm than you had ever seen before (he raised his eyebrows), you were very surprised that night when the hall went quiet as he entered with Ellie at his side.

Your supervisor was so shocked that he showed up, he suggested you sit with him since more than likely no one else would. Ellie took off immediately to sit with kids her own age from school, and that had led you to sitting at a small table in the corner with Joel, watching him eat. And good god, did he eat.

His first serving disappeared before you could even begin yours, and he was back with his second helping with an actual – albeit small – grin on his face.

“I have never seen you look so… happy…”, you mused with a smile at him.

“Never had reason to be… but this is good… haven’t had food like this in… fuck… years.”, he grunted while shovelling food in his mouth.

He looked up at you and gave you a brief smile as he chewed before going back to eating and your heart skipped a beat. That was the kindest he had ever been to you, and you felt those walls you’d built up around those thoughts and feelings you had for him shake.

You’d finished your food and stood up to return your dirty dishes, but as you went to walk away, he called your name.

“Hey Darlin’… uh, mind getting me another helping?”, he asked with a full mouth.

You nodded with a dumb grin at the new nickname, dumped off your dishes, and returned with another plate for Joel.

****

Three months later, the food he was allowing himself was starting to make an impact on his waistline. Never shying from second or third helpings, whether in the mess hall or at home, his tummy was more pronounced whether it was full or not.

You did your best to keep yourself in check, to not let yourself daydream about how that belly might feel under your fingers, or let your mind get carried away listening to the noises he made as he soothed his bloated middle. He would occasionally offer you little grins or a head nod, something he only recently began since being in Jackson, and you assumed he was being polite now that death wasn’t around every corner; this was just his true nature coming out. You figured your time living under one roof was coming to an end, given that you, he and Ellie were safe, and you didn’t need to keep such close quarters while you built your lives back up.

Ellie was spending more time with other kids and less at the house, while Joel continued to patrol and work in the carpentry shop, and you worked away in the community kitchen. When you and Joel were home alone, he kept a respectful distance from you. If there were moments your bodies could touch, like when you did dishes after dinner or he needed help carrying firewood in the house, he generally made a point of not getting too close and stepping back from you and looking away. You took the hint and figured the conversation of your moving into a place of your own was on its way.

*****

One Saturday evening, Joel had really outdone himself on the pork carnitas in the mess hall. You noticed he shifted in discomfort and discreetly had his hand on his lap. It took you a moment, but you finally realized he was unbuckling his belt and opened his pants. You averted your eyes to not embarrass him, but not before you saw that his belly was pushing out on to his lap. Joel Miller was having his fill, damned be his pants.

After he announced he was done, his green flannel shirt was pulled so tight across his middle that you swore you could hear the seams creaking and there were spaces between each of his buttons, exposing his undershirt.

The walk back to your house was relatively quiet, save for Joel’s grunting and huffing every other step from the strain of his full belly.

“Fuck me… I made a real hog outta m’self tonight…”, he groaned as you walked next to him. “Sorry you gotta see me like this, Darlin’.”

You could hear the embarrassment in his voice, and you felt bad for him. His belly, while full and bloated and bigger than you’d ever seen on him, was still smaller compared to some of the other Jackson men’s stomachs, but you knew if he kept this up, he’d be matching them in no time.

“Oh Joel… knock it off… I take it as a compliment. You actually smiled tonight… nothing to be sorry for.”, you responded in a matter-of-fact voice. “You enjoyed yourself.”

He scoffed, as you reached your porch, and opened the door. You helped him into the house, then closed the front door, both of you kicking off your boots.

“Good god… when the hell d’we get all these damn stairs?”, he groaned as he got to the bottom of the stairwell leading to the bedrooms on the second floor.

“Come sit on the couch… you’re not making it up the stairs anytime soon, Joel.”

You patted the back of the couch, then headed to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. “You want anything else?”, you called to him.

You heard him bark a laugh. “D’you see me right now? You think I could get anymore in’ere?”

You heard him sit heavily on the couch followed by him grunting “Dammit!”.

Walking in, you saw Joel sitting back, knees apart, and his favourite shirt unbuttoned to his chest, his undershirt riding up and exposing a strip of his belly and showed his pants were pushed open by his stuffed middle.

“What happened?”, you asked, walking back in with a glass of water for you both.

“Damn fuckin’… Jesus…”, he muttered, his cheeks blushing in deep scarlet. He noted you were still looking at him for answer. “My fuckin’ buttons popped. Wrecked my favourite shirt.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Joel, the hardened, battle-scarred killer who shot first and asked questions later, was blushing.

“It’s a good look on you.”, you teased as you sat in the chair next to the couch, leaning back and feeling emboldened by his vulnerability.

“What is?”, he sheepishly looked up at you.

“A big dinner.”, you smirked as you took a drink of you water, eyes on his.

He stared at you a moment then down to his round stomach, and he huffed a laugh and smiled to himself. You sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before he spoke.

“Didn’t know you could cook like that, Darlin’. Probably a good thing I didn’t know till we got here, too… couldn’t outrun shit with this full gut…”, he said, eyes still cast down and hand on his belly.

“Thank you.” It was your turn to blush, and before you could stop yourself, you said quietly, “Didn’t know you’d look so good like that.”

Realization hit both you and Joel about what you’d said, and you wanted to crawl in a hole as you saw his eyes go wide.

“Joel… oh my god… I am so…”, you started, covering your face and you didn’t see the grin that grew across Joel’s face and the look in his eyes as he watched you.

“I’m just findin’ all sorts’a things ‘bout you lately, darlin’...”, he teased in a low voice. “And here I thought you weren’t interested… and leavin’ me hanging.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you swallowed hard before you had the nerve to look up at him. His brown eyes were dark and looked hungry? He trailed his stare up and down your body as you sat and subtly licked his lips.

“Joel… I…”, you stuttered, paused, then finally asked, “Wait… what did you say?”

He gave you a lopsided grin and sat back with a smug face and stated, “I swear, darlin’, I thought you weren’t interested.”

You just looked back at him with wide eyes while his smug demeanor shifted into a gentler and warmer gaze. He smiled and patted the seat next to him.

“Come over here, baby.”, he spoke softly.

You stood slowly and his eyes never left yours and he raised his hand to take yours as you sat next to him sideways to face him fully. His hand went to your waist, his thumb stroking you.

“You drunk or something?”, you questioned teasingly with a smile.

He sighed a small laugh, his eyes again trailing up and down your body. “Nope, darlin’. Just felt like it was ‘bout time I was honest since I’m learnin’ so much ‘bout you lately.” He sucked in a breath and licked his lips again when his eyes watched your chest move with your breathing. “You look good, darlin’. Real fuckin’ good.”

His eyes moved up to yours and you could see the want, the need you held back for so long, burning in his eyes. You moved forward, your hand cupping his face.

“So do you, Joel.”, you breathed as you kissed him.

You heard him sigh into the kiss and push into it, his grip on your waist tightened, fisting your shirt and pulling you closer. You instinctively ran your hand over his taught, full belly and he shivered as you did, his grip trying to pull you onto his lap now.

“Get up, baby… can’t bend that way right now… get on me…”, he instructed you in a breathy tone as you moved to staddle his lap. 

Your smaller frame was now right up against his swollen belly as you frantically made out on the couch.

“God damn… fuckin’ hell, darlin’… if weren’t so damned full, I’d do this properly in bed upstairs…”, he panted as you moved your kisses to his jaw and neck and began to rock your hips. His hands grabbed your hips and pulled them down to put more friction on his denim-clad cock. “Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

He roughly jammed his hand between the two of you, cupping your heat as he began to make lude promises in whispers as you whimpered kisses along his neck.

“That’s right, darlin’… makin’ those pretty sounds… bet your pussy tastes better than your cookin’… how many nights I fucked my fist wishin’ it were your mouth…. Never thought you’d want an old fat fucker like me….”

You finally worked up the ability to push yourself back from him, and you looked down at his dark, blown-out pupils and his parted, panting lips, knowing you looked the same, while his hand stilled on your jeaned heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you, Darlin’?”, he breathed out, eyes pinned to yours.

You nodded as your hands moved to his shoulders and you pressed your mouth to his. He deepened the kiss for a moment, the pushed you up gently.

“Darlin’…”, his voice needy and almost desperate. “Baby, take your pants off…”

You stood up and removed your shirt and jeans, leaving you in your bra and panties. Joel huffed as he moved himself up off the couch, dropping his already open jeans, the grabbed your arm pulling you towards him.

“So fuckin’ pretty…”, he smiled before kissing you.

His arms wrapped around you and your hands went to his hair and around his shoulder. Unlike the previous kisses that were hasty and desperate, this one was slow, methodical, and carried over a year’s worth of unspoken emotions that neither of you were brave enough to put words to.

Joel pulled back first and softly smiled at you before he said is voice far too soft for the words he spoke.

“I’m gonna fuck you into this couch, Darlin’.”

His mouth is back on yours, hungry. Teeth and fervor, clashing between you. All that soft, gentle kissing was gone, Joel had given into what ever primal urges you had unearthed in him. You moan into his mouth as his hand grips your hair, pulling your head back.

“Joel… please…”, you begged breathlessly. “Take it... take me…”

He smiled darkly at you and pushed you face down over the arm of the couch, his hands going to the waist of your panties. He paused as if waiting for confirmation that you wanted this. You nodded and gave a strangled “uh-huh” and he pulled them down.

Joel let out a noise that you can only think was one from a starving man looking at a banquet feast. He dragged his thick finger through your slick folds, making you squirm and whimper.

“Oh, baby, you’re so fuckin’ pretty… bet your tight little cunt’s just waitin’… your pussy’s droolin’ for me, Darlin’... I’m gonna wreck you for any other man… wanna bury myself in your tight little cunt… so fucking pretty, baby.”

“Joel, please… fuck me… please… don’t tease!”, you cried out, unable to get any further friction from his fingers given the way you were splayed out on the couch arm.

“That’s right, baby… gonna take care of you, Darlin’… gonna make you feel good… patience, baby…gotta work you open for me.”

He removed his fingers and spit on them before he pumped one into your cunt, his thumb gently rubbing your neglected and throbbing clit. His finger was thick, and you could only imagine how big his cock was; you’d once got a quick glance at the outline before Jackson and if that was any indication, he was doing you a favour getting you primed and ready for him. He pulled back and added another finger after a moment, picking up his pace and you cried out and called his name as you gripped the couch cushion.

“So tight, Darlin’… tell me how bad you needed this, baby… tell me… tell me you need me.”

“I-I need this… Joel… need you, Joel… so bad… wanted this for so long… oh god… yes… there… right there, Joel… please, oh fuck!... Joel... Joel… keep going!”, you panted with a whine.

He pushed a third finger in, and you cried out and clawed at the couch cushion.

“Shhh, baby… come on, Darlin’… need to fuck you after this and I gotta get you open for me… need it to feel good for you… doing so good… I can feel it…. you’re close, Darlin’… let go for me, baby… come on.”

You could feel your orgasm building up, and when he curled his fingers and hit that sweet spot buried deep in your cunt, you came, crying out like a beaten dog.

“There you go… that’s it, Darlin’… sing for me, baby.”

He worked you through your orgasm, and when you felt like you could breathe normally, you tried to push yourself up. Joel’s hand rubbed in between your shoulder, and he gently pushed you back down.

“Darlin’, I’m too full to fuck you the way I outta… but you look to fucking good to pass up… you gonna let me have you here, baby?”. His tone was pleading and needy, but gruff, while his harsh, calloused hands gently rubbed you on you back where he pushed you down.

His words and the way he said them had your insides turn to mush and you could feel another gush of arousal slip from your puffy cunt.

“Please…”, was all your fuck-drunk brain could muster in a pathetic, breathy whine.

“Too good to me, Darlin’… too fuckin’ good to this fat old man.”, he groaned as he pushed his aching, hard cock into your tight, slippery cunt.

The feeling was too much. For a moment, you thought it wasn’t going to work, but he soothed you. He kept pushing himself in slowly, offering words of praise while his fingers dug into your hips.

“Takin’ me so good, Darlin’… that’s it, honey… so good… feel so fuckin’ good…”

He pushed in as far as his length could go and his tip kissed your cervix. Your lungs felt like they couldn’t fill with air you were so full, and you needed him to do something.

“You gotta relax, baby… I can’t move shit unless you relax…”

“Joel… please move… need you to move… so full… move, please…”, you whined, trying to catch your feet on the floor so you could push back into him.

He panted a chuckle and began to move, slowly at first, then increased his hip’s speed and intensity until he was ramming into you. The couch was squeaking on the wood floors from Joel’s weight repeatedly being forced against it. The couch’s rough material was rubbing harshly against your hip bones, but it was worth it for the sweet sting of Joel splitting you open as his heavy, full belly hitting your ass cheeks.

“Oh god… Joel… yes… yes… k-keep going… yes… fuck…”, you panted, tears in your eyes.

“So good… baby… you gotta come… come on, baby… you’re close, Darlin’… come on…”

The white-hot burn of your second climax crept down your spine and built up as his finger went to your clit, rubbing circles, pushing you over the edge. Your vision went blurry for a moment your body went rigid, your mouth open and high-pitched pants and moans escaped from it.

Joel’s hips sputtered as your climax pushed him to his own release. He let out a few deep, guttural grunts as he thrusted a few more times, spilling his hot seed into you.

He tried to not collapse onto you as he pulled out. He stumbled back into the armchair as you pushed yourself up off the couch’s arm.

“Fuck, Darlin’… wish you could stay bent over like that… sucha pretty sight…”, he huffed in a laugh as you got up. He patted his leg. “Come’ere, baby…”

You clumsily moved over to him and held your hands out. “No… up, Joel… Ellie could walk in the door at any moment and the last thing she needs to see is you stuffed to the gills with your dick out in the living room.”

“Sucha fuckin’ mouth on you!”, Joel grinned, and moved his hands to yours. “Better get a move on… let’s go to bed.”

You collected your abandoned clothing that was strewn throughout the living room and got Joel upstairs into his bedroom. You went to your room to clean yourself up and change, and there was a knock at the door. Upon opening it, Joel saw you and pushed his way in, closing it behind him.

He pulled you close to him, his belly pressed against your middle. You touched his face softly, gently running your fingers through his scruffy facial hair.

He smiled and kissed you tenderly and said softly against your mouth, “I got you, Darlin’… tell me you’ve got me… please…”

“I got you, Joel.” --------<3----------

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