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dilf-docs · 26 days ago

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I'm Happy Where The Devils Are

dbf!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: something something about forbidden things; you never learn, not until the heart you gave returns to you in shreds, bleeding out of love. what's left when you've given all of your heaven away? hell.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (but this time it's sad not hot or both idk), smut, p. in v., virgin!reader, (forced??) creampie, fingering, riding, oral (f. receiving), corruption kink, reader has no daddy issues ++her dad is lovely nor mommy issues like me but a secret third thing, ANGST IN CAPITAL, situationship™, jumping very late to this trend or series IDK hope someone still lurks around this neighbourhood, joel has no kids and is unmarried cause i need him to be BITTER, in short this is very AU canon divergence at max coded

word count: 7,629 words

side note: IF U SAW IT POSTED BEFORE NO U DIDN'T IT WAS A HONEST MISTAKE (clicked publish instead of save draft) OKAY i just searched thru my top 2024 songs by spotify for some inspo and well!!!!!! my yet to be dilf RM's (or joon as i, his wife, loves to call him endearingly) song called heaven popped up! those are the vibes if u wanna give it a listen (PLS DO OKAY HE RANKED TOP KOREAN ALBUM THIS YEAR AND I SEE I'M GETTING OFF THE HOOK BUT HE DESERVES IT RAHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH) and yk i said it's got the miller vibe going on: ANGST™ okay stopping my rambling and letting y'all enjoy (or suffer, idk anymore: as u see, i have a thing for sad complicated old man and suffering myself, because i could've choose any other idea but here goes user dilf-docs the angst whore choosing to suffer again lolz)

part: I / II

It was winter when he first touched you.

Joel Miller: a name you've learned to pronounce like it was spoken on a different language that only you knew.

You've known him for years, a familiar face that stands in corners and only laughs when spoken to, begrundingly, like it's rather a favor than something of his amusement. A guy who would drop by your house until you learned his name like he'd learn the games you'd force him to play. A friend of your dad, who moved back to town and has haunted your house since he stepped a foot inside, tainting the walls with his pine phantom.

Joel's a face you've seen age as much as he's seen you grow out of your pigtails and child-like wonder: and perhaps that's why it's wrong.

It is all so wrong: the way your gaze lingers a bit too long over his tired and bitter expresion, looking for those flickers of softeness that appear when your dad calls him. Old friend, filled with affection, and Joel can't deny the only man who hasn't left his side a smile that he hopes is enough to express what he can't; he's not good with words.

It is all so wrong: how the sheets stick to your body while you scream his name, the sound drowning against your pillow, your body leaking with the secret of an unspoken desire that gets harder to hide with each passing day.

But you can't help it: one day the feelings started to blossom and the admiration left for the crush to harvest until it fully bloomed in your chest. Its petals have asfixiated you ever since.

On winter, you returned to town, like a vice. You always came back for the holidays, a silver of hope that shouldn't exist. You felt it in the air, impregnated with a heartbreak so cutting, it was hard to remember when the winter carried the happiness it should've; all that's left was the cold, harsh feeling.

"Y/n!" your dad embraces your body on a hug as warm as a fireplace, "you're home"

He passes you around the people over, because that's how he always is: joyful, the house full with guests that don't stop at family, but feel as close as those of blood. She came! he loudly yet proudly announces your homecoming, adding small sprinkles of how's college and how smart his little girl is (a nickname he can't let go of, not caring if you were ten then and now just above twenty), not caring if your face is as red as christmas easters.

"You have to stop, dad" you plead with annoyance, but a small smile betrays you, "no one wants to hear how I'm top of my class again, for the millionth time"

"Well, it's my house" he jokes, "so they better get used to it" he then looks around the room, as if he's forgetting something, "ah, someone I must bore with your stories is missing..."

He talks to some more people around and you have to plaster a smile and salute faces you can't recognize, but as on cue, the door flings open, some people near the entrance greeting a face you've yet to see and recognize. Your father gets there first, the smile that spreads across his face making your stomach tie in knots.

"Joel's here!" he delivers with excitement, unaware of how your polite smile falters.

"Joel's here" you repeat, grief laced within your words. Grief of what? You don't know, but you do know a part of you dies the more you look at Joel Miller the way you're not supposed to.

"Come say hi" your father insists, happy in his ignorance, despite your paced walk and stiff demeanor.

And walking your way is him, the man who owns your heart without knowing.

His hair is still as soft as ever, more tints of grey sprinkled through it. Your fingers itch to trace it, so you keep your fists closed until the red nails dig into the tight white flesh. He has more wrinkles, pronounced when his brows furrow at the sight of you.

"I know she's grown a lot, but I hope you still recognize her" your dad says with affection, "isn't she beautiful, my y/n? Grown into a whole lady"

Your heart hammers against your chest as Joel looks you up and down, but there is no emotion across his face.

"It's only been a year, but sure, she has" as stoic as ever, but it's enough to make your nerves wreck. You can't believe how much a simple stare and a few words can get to you.

But you were always like this: weak. Back then, at kindergarten grounds, when making a friend seemed the hardest task. Now, at university, when you wonder if something is wrong with you that always makes you the last option to choose.

Maybe that's why Joel, a man so strong in appearance and character, never liked you: that all those memories were a dream, and he just did it as an extension of his affection for your dad.

You'll never forget that dinner last year, on these same days, when for the first time, both your parents left you alone with Joel, their guest for the night. There was a storm outside, and it was almost funny how the brash wind against the window mimicked your steady heart. You didn't know he was coming, but when you did, you put on your best dress on purpose and dusted a makeup palette a friend gave you, yet he didn't even look your way.

"Do you hate me, Joel?" you asked in a whispered breathe, the cold silence as answer.

It's contradictory, really: your love grows where his hate does. More like hate, it's a disregard so cruel, you can't help but wonder if there's something wrong with you, making you attached to an older man that only seems to have apathy for you. Because one thing is attraction, but other is the deep adoration where you'd die if he were to ask you.

It's your fault, really, for turning his life into folklore. You still remember sitting on your father's lap as he talked your ear off, full of stories that Joel, always by his side, would quietly laugh, the fireplace casting shadow over a man who seemed to overpower the darkness that now is palpable on his gaze. He'd said your dad was making him greater than he really was, pinching your cheeks as he called you sugar, reasoning you were so sweet.

But since last year, something shifted: he started avoiding you, like he resented you.

And you never understood why. So every season you've searched in his eyes for a sign, anything, that can make you go back to that speacial relationship you had, missing him like a little kid. It's been a year, and you feel, if possible, more at loss than before.

Back to now, it's almost midnight, and most of the guests have gone already. You've tried to look cool in the eyes of those who are still there, conversation flowing easily through your eggnog-tinted tongue, yet you know it's all pretend.

"Excuse me" you can't take it anymore, the air suffocating you in anxiousness.

"Where are you going?" questions your mom, stopping you in your tracks before going up the stairs.

You turn around and feign a smile, "Up to my room"

"Are you okay?" your dad asks with worry.

"Yeah, just tired" you lie with ease, and the miles you've driven back it up.

"If you need anything, just tell" she says.

When you fall against the mattress, all the weight settles in. You close your eyes and count to ten, breathing in and breathing out.

The door creaks, so you get up as you open your eyes. "Dad" you start, knowing he's all about giving you talks, "Not now, please-"

"M' not y'r daddy"

You shiver despite the closed windows.

"Joel!" you jump, straightening yourself, "did dad send you?"

He doesn't respond, looking at you through brown warm eyes that reveal nothing. The pit in your stomach grows along awkward silence.

"It's cold outside, isn't it?" you attempt to make conversation, hating the silence. But you fail: he's still here, and regardless of his indifference, he doesn't leave.

Maybe it's the bit of alcohol from before, but you're standing over until you get close to his resting figure against the doorframe, the darkness of your room leaving his face, now barely lit by the light outside in the hallway. Joel's so close you can hear his breathing, and it surprises you the way it drags like a cigarette.

You feel confident for the first time, defiant even, tired of it all, like if it was his fault you loved him. You're sick of him viewing you like a naive kid who knows no better.

"Joel, why are you here?"

The lavender gets under his nose, his skin on fire. He looks at you again, but this time, the brown in his eyes darkens.

"Joel...?" you ask on a shaky breath.

Before you can register, there's warmth against your cheek. His fingers graze your face with an unspoken yearning on his fingertips, as he gently grabs your chin.

Your breath hitches, hand traveling to feel his on your face, to see if it's real and not a dream.

"Joel, what are you doing?"

He backs up, like your touch burns. And then looks at you, as if you're a stone on his shoe: just like all those boys back at the city, who have rejected you. You feel small, like crying.

"M' sorry" and walks out of your room, his scent up your nose. His limping figure walks down the hallway that now looks longer. You don't realize how long you've stared until you hear your father ask downstairs where was he.

It's like he was never there.

It was spring when he first kissed you.

It's funny how you still came back home after such disastrous holidays.

Joel stayed for the rest of the holidays, including Christmas and New Years, and when he hugged you in the living room full of guests, you had to pretend his fingers hadn't hold you differently before. You both lied your way out, and when you left, for the first time, you felt relieved, which is why it took some convincing from your father to make you return for spring.

"You couldn't miss this" he insists, "it's the best time to visit the cabin"

And you have to agree: a small cabin by the lake that your parents bought when they first moved in to town, a place you spent most of your childhood. Your father taught you how to fish there, and ever since, even as you moved away for college, you came back to do so, a tradition kept intact despite the years.

Your mom looks at you from the rear view mirror. "He wouldn't stop talking about it, afraid you wouldn't join us this year" your dad hushes her, embarrased, "oh! Don't act like you didn't"

Truth is, you'd still come: you miss the green tickling your bare feet, the cold water, and the sun kissing your skin as you lay outside. It's a lie you don't wait all year to leave the cold city and embrace the blooming spring.

"I wouldn't miss it for anything, dad" you lay against the car's door, closing your eyes as you smile. He doesn't say anything, yet with the way your mom giggles, you know he probably got teary or something―your sappy old man.

The car stops, the cabin in front of you. You feel like crying, so many memories flooding you. Alright, you're being sappy just like your dad, but it's been a hard semester and you missed your family.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you something" he says as you get out. The small denim short rides up as you stretch, your legs numb from the trip.

"Yeah?"

A car honks from behind. You jump, loosing balance as you trip. "Ow!" you land on the grass, embarrasingly so.

"C'mere" you look up, the sun blinding his face. "Lemme help ya', sugar"

The nickname feels like a slap to your face, so you stay there stupid, body stiff as you raise up, Joel's face flooding your field of vision.

"That's what I forgot to tell you" your dad laughs, "or who"

You're not laughing. Joel Miller is here and it's ruines your trip.

"Well, you should've" you took his hand just for the show, because you know your mom is observant. If there was an electric rush, you must've imagined it, just as the way his hands fall to his sides, twitching.

Over the next couple of days, you try to ignore him as much as you can, pretending your spring hasn't changed: fishing, laying down, sun and baths.

"Hey"

Your sun glasses rest on your nose as you raise from your spot, laying on a towel on the grass as you sunbathe.

"What'd want, Joel?" your tone is icy, contrasting the warmer climate.

"M' going to the lake" he mumbles, then stays silent. It's almost as if he's waiting for you to answer.

"Okay?" you lay down again, "have fun"

"Y'r dad said you'd teach me" he raises a fishing row.

You groan in annoyance, getting up from your spot, "why doesn't he do it?"

"Said y'r the best" then coughs, "besides, I think him and your momma needed some time alone..."

You walk past, shoulder brushing against his. You've never been this childish before, but your anger fuels your emotions: rage when you see him and remember how the warm of his touch turned cold in seconds.

You arrive at the small dock, sitting on the rather hot wood. You don't flinch, trying to prove nothing. Joel sits next to you and makes a face at the burning sensation.

"What?" you mock, venom dripping from your tone, "can't handle some heat?"

He just scoffs, passing the row to you with a little more force than necessary.

Your petty revenge is splashing his shirt, damping the cotton with the lake's water.

"I'm sorry" you apologize, feigning an innocent tone, "wanted to freshen up"

"Thought ya could handle the heat" Joel grumbles.

Then he curses under his breath, taking the shirt off and tossing it to the side.

You take in now shirtless body, admiring the strong muscles, broad shoulders and sturdy back. He sits next to you, his belly pushing just above the seam of his shorts. You recoil, almost as if heat radiated off his body, your cheeks burning. Your hands tremble as you hold the row, and it takes every strength of you to not succumb to the dangerous view; it's all too tempting.

"Y'r gonna teach me or what?" he breaks your train of thoughts, his voice so low, as if you were a little animal he was trying not to scare off, "just gonna stare? Ain't y'r daddy taught ya some manners?"

A current shoots through your body and looses itself in the middle of your legs.

You divert your gaze, ashamed. "Don't know what you're talking about"

"Liar" but it's so soft, it sounds more like an observation than an accusation.

"Drop it, Joel" you focus on the water but you know your mind is elsewhere.

"Sugar..."

You feel like throwing up. Why after ignoring you is he calling you like he used to? When he was your favorite person in the world and you were his. He used to hold you close, but now acts like your touch is poisoned. Joel confuses you too much; he's got you feeling like screaming at the sky.

"I said drop it, Joel" you seethe, "you may be old, but you're not deaf"

"And you may be young" his fingers remove the glasses from your face, your wary eyes in exhibit, "but y'r too bold"

They stay there, on your face, his rough fingertips touching your soft sun-kissed skin.

You don't know why you do it, but you do.

You get up, your legs on his face. Until then, you don't realize how close you two were.

"I'm not bold, Joel" you whisper, "I'm scared"

And then you jump.

The world reduces to a blur, body as light as a feather. The sensation of falling is familiar and you don't know why.

It's barely a second, like a blink.

The cold water hitting your body brings you back to reality.

You can't see, it's all dark. But you feel free: you may be underwater, but over him.

You feel like you got the upper hand, but then the water starts moving and a huge splash next to you makes you look back.

Joel jumped too.

"What are you doing?!" you shout.

What are you doing to me? What do you want from me? What will you do to me?

"Takin' a splash" he answers, like it's obvious.

"You know what I meant" your tone is rather spiteful.

"And you had'a teach me" he's again in front of you, barely inches away, "so I guess we're both dissapointed we didn't get what we wanted"

There's water dripping from his hair, falling to his face. Water drops adorn his eyelashes, warm eyes deeper than ever, and you feel like drowning even as your body floats.

"And what do you want?" you challenge, the question implying only so much.

His lips clash into yours, hungry like a wolf. Your hands immediately grip his neck for support as his tongue forcefully gets inside of you, water droplets filling your taste buds. You gasp for air, all of your body pressed against his.

"That answer y'r question?" tone defiant, as if he's also a player on this game that's just started.

You just don't know yet how much you've got to loose.

It was summer when he became yours.

You'd never anticipated coming back home as much as now.

The lingering feeling of his scruffy beard against yours, back pressed against the walls of the shed at midnight while he devoured your lips in a hungry kiss has stayed with you since you left the cabin, trapped in the salt air. Now you're coming back for more, butterflies in the low of your belly as you remember his words:

"When y'get back, I'll have ya' a surprise"

You park at your house, searching for the keys under the rug, but they aren't there. You knock to no answer, so you call your dad and mom, only for both of the calls to go directly to voicemail. Yes, you came a day earlier than planned, but your parents are always home the week you arrive, so something must be going on.

Before you worry, a voice behind you says:

"Ain't nobody inside. Y'r folks went out"

It's Joel, looking as good as the last day you saw him. Just to taste him again, you were complaint on every single of his requirements, one being no contact. He claimed he didn't want to distract you back at college, and you didn't ask any more questions, afraid you'd press a wrong button and loose what felt like a dream.

"Really?" you walk out of your porch to where he is, resisting the urge to kiss him in the middle of your neighbourhood's street.

"Hmh" he nods, "said they ain't comin' back soon"

"They told you so?" you question, "why do I feel you had something to do with it?"

"Ain't do shit" he crosses his arms, the t-shirt sleeves making his arm muscles more prominent. He then coughs, "just recommended y'r dad a nice restaurant outside town. Maybe they'll be later than night, traffic is kinda packed at late"

You smile, "Joel?"

He doesn't look at you, "yes?"

You fail to suppress a giggle, "did you just get rid of my parents?"

"No" he answers, stern. "Now" he looks around, all doors closed, "why don't 'cha come inside? Sun is hittin' hard"

He's a terrible liar.

As soon as you enter his house, you can't believe you've never been there before, visits usually in your house.

It's exactly what you expected: a simple and sober decoration that hides a welcoming feeling somewhere. There's something else you notice: the lack of pictures.

"Make yourself comfortable" he says, coughing, looking akward all of a sudden. You want to laugh and coo his now insecure demeanor, shy in your present. If he seemed sure before, he doesn't anymore. "I''ll get ya' some water"

"Joel?" your voice comes out low, equalling a purr. His cock twitches in his pants at the way you call him.

"Yes?" he swallows, adam's apple bobbing.

"I hope you didn't bring me into your house just for a glass" then you sit on the couch, the small short you're wearing riding up your thighs. "Besides, I'm not thirsty"

He doesn't move, almost as if he's lost the ability to react; in a trance.

"What do you want?" voice deep, like he'd give you anything you ask.

"Have you forgot already, old man?" you quip. "You promised me something" even if your voice is steady, your fingers tremble when you start un-buttoning your shirt, "and I'm waiting for it"

If he could drool like a dog, he would. He slowly gets closer to you, until he's towering over your sitting figure.

"Ya' think it's funny tempting me like that, sugar? Playing with an old fuck as me like that?"

You whimper, resolve melting quickly. "N-no" you feel ashamed, hand ready to button yourself again until his hand grabs yours, stopping you from doing so.

"I'm sorry, sugar" he raises your body swiftly, making you stand up. "Actions have consequences, and I'm gonna teach ya' some"

When his lips land on yours, you feel you've reached heaven again. His mouth easily know your roads, traveling to every spot he can to deepen the kiss. He eats you out like he's starved, sweat starting to pool in your foreheads. He grabs you by the waist, pulling your closer if possible, your chest clashing against his pecs. His heart hammers against you, and that's all you hear aside your raggedy breaths and famished clashing. You grab his hair again, feeling the soft texture under your fingers. Joel moans against your lips when you bite his, something a friend told you to do, and it's proven to work.

"Where'd you learn that, huh?" you taste like strawberries, the proof on his now coated shiny lips and your disheveled gloss. His grip turns stronger, "thought ya' were innocent, little vixen"

"I still am" you avoid his gaze, and even if his hold falters, when you look again into his eyes, there's a flame burning in them. "But I want you to have it, Joel"

"Sugar-" starts, condescending.

"Don't" you immediatly cut him off. "I'm an adult, I know what I want"

"I just want ya' to be sure" but his cock is already hard, "don't want ya' to regret it"

"I could never regret you, Joel" you whisper.

He picks up your body, that despite the years, is still as strong as ever. He goes up the stairs, looking at you so lovingly, you feel like anything is possible.

Maybe this is how it feels like.

He softly drops you onto the mattress, that dips under your weight. You place yourself against the bed head, and when Joel gets in, it creaks.

"I'm gonna make ya' feel so good, sugar. I promise" he slurs, "Now be a good girl and open up for me"

Your part your legs, and he's taking down your shorts until your lingerine is exposed. With wandering fingers, he traces your inner thights, delighted at the way you squirm under his touch. He then travels to your pussy, the clothe the only thing separating him from your bare cunt.

"Has anyone eat ya' down here before?" he can smell your arousal, seeing the wet spot in the middle of your panties. He's salivating at the fresh meal. You deny, embarrased, but he seems content at that, "those dumb college boys haven't treated you right? Then lemme show y'how a real man's supposed to eat ya'"

He strips you off your panties, landing somewhere on the floor. You shudder at the sudden breeze on your bare core.

"Already drippin' for me?" he softly laughs, "we ain't even started"

He dives down, the rough of his facial hair sending tickles through your body. He gives a small lick at first, as if testing. When you let out a small moan, he feels invencible. He keeps the ministrations going, more cute sounds escaping your lips. He wants to hear more of them, addicted to the sound, heat pooling when he remembers he's the one causing them.

"Liking it, sugar?" he stops to ask, his voice provoking more vibrations that hit your core in a pleasant way.

"D-don't stop" you plead in the middle of a whine.

He eats you like a madman. Slurping and sloshing sounds bounce off the walls, your hands gripping his greying locks tightly as his face pushes further into your puffy heat, sucking on the sensitive clit. With his filthy mouth, he takes on of the lips on his mouth, robbing a loud groan out of you.

"Your pussy, God" his breath fans against it, "tastes so good, sugar, sweet like you" he licks more, making it get wetter. You didn't know you had that in you, nothing compared to when you tried to touch yourself back at your dorm, too ashamed to try anything else.

He groans against your heat, sending another wave of pleasure through your body.

He then gets up, showing you his thick digits like one shows something new to a baby, "guess what?" you have no idea, and your innocent doe eye'd gaze makes him squirm at the thought of being the first to touch untainted territories (in many ways).

"M' gonna finger you baby, okay? I promise's gonna feel good" Joel assures as he slowly inserts one of his fingers. You arch your back as you felt his fingers in your warm walls. He then puts another, thick fingers in and out of your pussy, your arousal dripping down his wrist. You squirm and whine, thighs shaking at the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you. There's a weird tension happening down there. "J-Joel" you pant, "I feel-"

"Let it go, sugar" he doesn't stop, "I'm here for ya' and y'r sweet cunt"

Liquid soon gushes out. "Fuck" he curses. You shy away and looking everywhere but his eyes.

"Feels good?" you nodded incoherently, "wanna feel even better?"

He gets rid of his pants, the silhoutte hard under his underwear. You gulp, afraid you might not take it.

"Joel..." you call his name, hesitant. Fuck, he's so horny he could care less if he's too big for your first.

"We'll go slow" he leans forward to kiss your forehead, "I know'll take it"

"O-okay" you're still not sure and a bit afraid, but you want him, so you surrender to him.

You feel something heavy go inside your folds. You look down to see his enormous cock sliding in between your tight walls, the skin glistening in your slick,round tip leaking with his precum.

"Tell me" he's soft on you, despite what you're doing, "I'll stop if it hurts"

It does. It burns: how your cunt tries to adapt to his girth, stretching in a painful but delicious feeling.

"N-no" your voice comes out strained, drops of blood falling into the sheets, "keep going"

"Such a greedy thing are ya'?" Joel laughs, truly laughs, the rich sound coming deep from his chest, "what would daddy say?"

"Shut up" you bite, holding onto his shoulders for stability. Please, don't let me fall.

Half way in, he pulls out before diving back in, helping you adjust to his size slowly. Your eyes are trained on the way his cock disappears inside your leaking pussy.

"Should'I keep goin'?" he asks.

"K-keep going" you say softly, and with that, he gently starts inching into you.

"Good girl" he coos.

His cock stretches out your virgin hole perfectly, like it was meant for him. He feels himself melting at the sight of you, something to worry about later. Not now, when your breath hitches as he fills you up. Your cunt fit snug around his length, like you were made for him.

Joel drops his head on your shoulder as he fully entered you, tired, his energy not as much as when he was young. Beads of summer sweat shimmer in your bodies, as not only that but the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his dick make you warm.

Joel takes in a moment to see the mess he's made of you: parted lips, shut eyes, nails digging on his neck. You were deep in pleasure: because of him. His dick twitches at that, and inside of you, it makes you whimper.

"M' gonna start movin', 'kay? Tell me if it's too much"

His weight presses over your body before starting to pull out and push back in. The thrusts start slow, soon picking up a rhytmic pace. Joel grips your hips with his rough big hands, to then start fucking into you.

"Mhm" you whine.

"Mhm, what? Use your words, sugar"

"I-it feels so good, Joel" despite the pain, despite the doubts, the haze is so envolving, he's made of you a moaning mess, drunk in pleasure; the feeling of him inside of you has you seeing stars.

"Y-you feel good too, baby" he pants, your pussy gushing at each thrust. He starts going harder, making you scream.

"Who you belong to, sugar?" his hot breath pours in your ear, "say it"

"You, Joel" you whisper the answer like a sacred oath, "Just you. I'm all yours"

Before you can say anything else, his dick touches a spot within you. Such a sweet spot, that has you moaning and feeling something unlike anything you've experienced before: it washes over you as you clamp down on him. You hear yourself cry, voice barely recognizable. Your vision goes blurry, then mind blank.

Joel groans with your pretty cries of pleasure, watching the way your cunt milks his cock, drooling with your juice.

"Such a nice girl for me, sugar. Did so well" he whispers, and a dark tought crosses his mind. He feels dirty, taking advantage of your age and naivety, your figure still half-gone, "think you want me, all of me?"

You nod, still out of your mind, and before you can process the real meaning of his words, hot stripes of his seed plaster your walls, coating each inch of you. Joel presses his lips into yours to shut your moans, kissing you hard.

"You good?" you can only nod, still in shock, the events dawning over you. "Don't worry, I'll buy ya' a pill before your folks come back"

The sun shines outside; there's still time. You just wonder how much.

It was autumn when he said I love you.

Yellow and orange leaves fall in the roads not taken as you've fallen for Joel.

Ever since summer, you've been waiting for the next time to see him: sleeping with him being the last thought, touching yourself to his voice on your mind, drawing hearts in the bylines of your notes. His figure, first a dream, then a fleeting hope and now a high you need to feel once again, because you can't let go of the way he fucked you, your cries of pleasure, how your walls stretched for him and the way he held you that afternoon and the next nights you escaped your house, crossing the street under the moonlight, hiding as a criminal.

But you'd do anything to feel him, his heart beating against your chest like it was yours to bear. You need to see him, so you're doing the most stupid choice of your life.

There's a pause after you knock, and then Joel opens his door.

"Sugar!" he looks surprised, then angry and finally scared. "The fuck you doin' here? Ain't you supposed to come 'til winter?"

"I couldn't wait" you whine in desperation, clinging onto him like a koala. You'd searched for something, anything, that smelled like him back at the city, but even his flannel shirt you'd stolen had started to loose its smell.

He looks around, "do your-"

"No" you pause, "they don't know I'm here"

He curses under his breath, realizing just how much you're deep in this. He's fucked: fucked because he'll comply even if he knows this has to stop.

"I have the keys" you pick the dirt under your nails, a nervous habit of yours, "for the cabin"

Joel remembers last spring, how he ate you inside the walls of the shed, wishing for more. More came the next summer, and now you're hear again, looking at with with that look he hates: like you'd burn the world just to keep him warm.

"How'd you do that?"

"Took them last summer" you reveal your plan all along, "just in case" yet you had already made your mind before leaving town.

"Damn it, sugar" he's speechless, "you're fucking crazy"

You giggle despite the uneasiness creeping up, "just for you, Joel"

He takes you to the cabin on his car, yours already there. And you'd walked to his house? You have indeed, lost your mind.

"What're we supposed to do?" he thinks out loud.

You groan, "I don't know, Joel. But I didn't drive miles just for you to stand there"

He can't lie and say he hasn't thought about you: your lashes, soft when closed; the way his room still smelled like you even after two weeks of your parting, or how the sun seemed to highlight all your perfect spots. He even thinks of you on his bathroom while he grabs his dick, fucking himself to the memorized song of your moans and uneven breaths as he pulled in and out of you.

"Then get inside" he's demanding, and your panties wet at the tone and the voice you missed so much, "it's cold out'ere"

As soon as you close the door, he's grabbing your face with force, that it almost seems like two people fighting, not two who missed each other.

"Joel" you mumble, breathless.

"Missed ya' so much, sugar" he confesses against your lips. A trail of saliva hangs; silver of hope. "It was killin' me"

"I missed you too, Joel" you deepen the kiss, tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes. "Couldn't stop thinking about you"

"Yeah?" he sits on the living room's couch, creaking under the sudden weight. "Tell me what that pretty head of yours was thinkin'"

"You" in a heartbeat, and you see his gaze go from dark to something else, lurking behind; you're scared to find out what it is.

Joel motions you to come over. You take your shoes and pants off, siting on his lap.

"Yeah-?" his voice falters, "tell me what"

"How our names sound together, how pretty you are..." you wander. "I also thought about you, all of you, inside of me"

"Watch that filthy mout of yours, sugar" he chastises but there's no anger behind his reprimand, "one summer bouncing on my cock an' y'r already a needy slut"

You whine at his words, rubbing yourself against his tight.

"D-don't" he undoes his belt and jeans, leaving only his underwear. Your desperate fingers pull them down, revealing his already pulsating cock, "don't tease this ole' man and just do the real thing"

He lets you use him, his hips rocking forwards despite his creaking bones, your swollen clit dragging against his pelvis. He sees your face, how you bite your lip as you test your needs, fucking yourself while you ride him. He lets you because: one, he's old and tired, and two, he wants to see you until he's memorized every small detail of your face. He lets you edge yourself close, crying as you feel it coming, but then he plants his feet onto the wooden floor, his boots making a hollow sound that echoes through the walls, the only other sound aside your cries, and thrusts his length up into you.

You yelp at the sudden sensation of his cock inside of you again.

"Think I'd let ya' have it all?" he mocks, "need to fuck y'r pretty pussy too; gotta have it for myself. Would ya' let me?"

You can't deny him anything.

"Yes, Joel" his hands immediatly grab your hips with a pressure so strong, you fear there'll soon be a bruise there. His cock buries fully within you. The air fills with a strong scent, just your moans and his grunts bouncing off the walls, soon warming up from the cold, the crease of his eyebrow pronounced as he realeases, coating your folds with his cum.

"God, sugar" he sounds a bit embarrased, "look at you, makin' me cum so fast"

But he's too enamoured by the sight of you on top of him, still riding him despite his quick orgasm, so he cups your face gently, the beads of sweat on your forehead falling into his hand. He feels more alive than ever, like his life has just started. Oh, he can picture it: coming home to the smell of your food, kissing the absence of the day off your mouth, to then bend you over the counter. He wants so much more, but he knows it can't be, yet, he's far too gone to even think about turning around.

You lift your hips until his cock slips out of you, using your fingers to bring it back. His cum clings to your folds as you sink back down, hips barely lifting you back up before you keep him buried inside of you. He loves watching you slide down his length, slipping in and out of your puffy cunt as his cock softens. It pushes his cum back into your cunt, sticky over your clit as it drips to your thighs.

You did bring a pill this time, so you don't care of the mess his thick flood of cum that dribbles out of you has made on your pussy and his clothes.

"Fuck" you let out, sex-filled mind speaking up. "Don't ever leave me again"

"I won't" he answers hastily, then regrets it. But you don't know that.

Instead, numbness takes over your body, the events of last hours finally draining your body. Sleep settles in, and you nest your head on Joel's sweaty shoulder.

"Lemme take you to bed" you hear his half-drowned voice, carrying your body to the main bedroom.

Joel Miller was always a mystery to you: a man who seemed impossible to break, his world hiding behind a permanent scowl. It felt like his heart was locked, seemingly unbreakable, but where he was rough, his edges had softened for you.

He places you over the bed softly, dipping next to you. Joel's strong arms embrace you, pulling your tired figure closer. His face hides in your neck and his soft belly pushes against the curve of your back, all while he presses a soft kiss to it.

"I think I love you" he murmurs to no one in particular.

But you hear.

It was winter again, when he broke your heart.

Before the holidays, you'd drop by every other weekend. Cancelling plans, waiting for his call. For his grave voice to say Come over, and you'd speed up the brakes with an urgency only he had taught you.

You'd find yourself in the cabin, loosing track of time that rushed like a bottle of wine. Kissing until your mouth was swollen and the only thing that satisfied your hunger was his lips, fucking until sunrise and his bones ached. He'd then offer a tired smile, and you'd sing a soft tune in front of the fireplace while cuddling.

They say home is where the heart is. And it felt like one.

It was during one of those escapades that you showed up with your newest adquisition: a small cursive J just above your thigh, hiding under the plaid of your skirt.

It was your first fight. He shouted at you like he had never before, scolding you like a father would to a naive kid, the hatred you hadn't seen since he touched you that night a year ago, resurfacing.

"We're loosing ourselves" his voice cracked, sounding defeated. But then he'd suck the skin around it until it turned red.

The back and forth became the only thing keeping you alive, the need for his touch as addictive and destructive as a drug.

Which is why Christmas hadn't felt this jolly since being a kid.

You're back, and as you hug your dad and mom, you scour the place for his face: the one you've grown to yearn and love.

Your dad exchanges a glance with your mother and then looks at you weirdly before answering.

"He isn't coming; I thought you knew"

You don't care about the future explanations or the calls of your name, storming off and crossing the street to his place.

"Joel!" you shout, knocking desperately, "open the door!"

When you don't get an answer, you search for the spare key hiding under a pot in the porch. As you make your way inside, you spot Joel sitting in front of the fireplace, his eyes lost in the fire.

"Joel" you softly call his name. At that, he snaps, standing up. His eyes glow with the flames, circling in doubt.

"Sugar?" like he didn't expect you to actually search him on his absence, "what'd doing here?"

"I could ask you the same" you laugh, sardonically. "Don't know how I'll explain running off like that, so thanks, by the way"

"M' sorry"

The words fall heavy in the air, suddenly thick. Something tells you he isn't apologizing exactly for that.

There's something like guilt and fear simmering in his eyes. You think about all those times in the cabin, spring and autumn, and you're reminded of those three words he's said and you haven't. The realization hits you, and you're quick to reach him, grabbing his hand.

"Joel?" you call again. "I- I need to tell you something"

"So do I" but he sounds reluctant, "you go first"

"I don't know what's happening" your lip quivers, eyes glossy. God, he feels terrible, "but I want you to know that I love you"

He gasps, like you've slapped him across the face.

"No" he starts, pushing you away. He lets go of your hand, and the sudden cold hits you.

"I thought I still had time..." his shoulders slump in defeat, "guess I'm wrong"

"What do you mean?" anger and sadness flood your words.

"You can't love me" the words cut through you, and you're sick.

Sick of your rusting wheels that only move when he tells you to. Because that force, the dominance, Joel Miller seems to carry over the rest of the people, doesn't cut as deep as it cuts through you.

It's almost done with a benevolent authority, like he knows of said power and doesn't want to abuse it.

So now he's ordering you to stop loving him, like this year has meant nothing. Nothing.

"Love, funny word" your words carry rage, "do you even know what that means?" you try to hold back the tears in vain, "you don't, yet you say them so freely, like they mean nothing to you" he makes a surprised face, and you savour the pain reflected on his face, alike of yours. "Yes, I heard you, Joel. Y-you made me the happiest girl on the planet, but now I realize you're so full of shit"

You turn around, trying not to see his face, because you know that the more you look at him, the more seconds you add and the harder it would be to erase the memories you'll have to burn.

"Did you ever love me, Joel?" it pains you to whisper out loud.

"I love you, sugar" his voice is horse, like something had cut through it. "That's why I'm doing this"

"Are you, Joel?" you sigh, "if you loved me, wouldn't you want me to stay?"

"This won't end well" it's his answer, trying to reason, "I don't want to hold you back"

Coward. Asshole. Idiot.

Your tone is icy like the storm outside, "but it's already ended"

He's about to speak but you cut him off.

You can only smile. "I've given you everything and you took it. I really thought you were giving me your everything, but I realize now, that I know what you are. You don't need to hide it" he looks at you like it is you who's hurted him the most, "you're hard to love, Joel. But I tried"

He'll regret it. You know and you want to: you want him to feel the empty days blur with one another, that he remembers late at night what you had and he ended, so when he feels alone, the ghost of your free love haunts him with the happy days and sweet taste of your lips. Just then, he'll understand what your year of loving really meant.

You leave his house empty, a knife twisted in your heart. He's the only one who's got the key, and you know it will be long until anyone else can break it open.

But it's okay: if being with Joel was heaven, you'll happily burn in the flames of what's left.

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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advnterccs-archive · 2 years ago

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Drinks the day away drinks the day away drinks the day away drinks--

#{ Muse Status ; 🧪 }#{ ic ; 🧪 ; rick }#{ i'm up way too early and well Rick has decided to get an early start on the holiday xD }#{ happy Easter to those who celebrate ! }

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mypoisonedvine · 10 months ago

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𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | angus tully x reader

sequel to 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, won't really make much sense without reading that!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | holiday break can only last so long, but angus wants this to be more than a fling-- and you, as much as you want to deny it, already know it's more than a fling. the question remains if either one of you will admit it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), age gap (not huge but angus is 18 and the reader is just out of college), semi-public sex, breeding kink, very inappropriate activities in a church, secret relationship, a wee bit of angst and fluff at the end!

part 3 coming soon!

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go back,” he groaned, dropping his head defeatedly into the crook of your neck. “I never wanna go back to that horrible fucking school.”

“I guess you’ll just see me at Easter break then, huh?” you purred, grazing your teeth over his ear.

“You know, if sex with you keeps lining up with the Catholic calendar, it’s gonna give me a complex or something,” he noticed.

“Oh, I can do better than that,” you beamed. “Next time you see me at Mass, I won’t be wearing any panties. And you’ll be the only other one who knows.”

He perked up again, balancing himself over you with bent arms against the mattress. “I swear, you’re a dream come true. A really fucked up dream I had after seeing a porno mag or something.”

You laughed, but it was cut off with him pulling you into another kiss— sweet and slow, with both of you smiling against each other. With your limbs tangled together under the sheets, you melted together into your bed; and no, none of it really seemed real yet. Every time this happened, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were hooking up with Angus Tully. Frankly, you were sort of trying not to think about it, at least not too much. If you really tried, you could look at his face and see the little kid you babysat all those years ago, and it just made you feel sort of awful about it… yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Your smile fell into a gasp when he started to kiss your neck, his hands guiding your back as it arched slightly. When he pressed his body against yours, you felt him getting hard against your leg, and you groaned softly.

“Fuck, Angus, again?” you whined. “We already went twice—”

“I’m leaving in two days,” he explained, “I need you as many times as I can get away with it.”

You wanted to protest, say something about how sore you were or about how he needed to leave and go back home before someone noticed he was gone— but his slender fingers were already diving between your legs and making you just moan instead.

“See? You’re wet already,” he noticed with a playful mockery to his tone. “I’ve gotta take care of you, baby��”

Oh, you couldn’t stand it when he talked like that— when he made you feel so vulnerable to him, so paradoxically submissive. When this started a couple weeks back, it was the other way around: you were the cool, older woman with all the power. You told him what you wanted and he was more than happy to oblige, never questioning you— he was obedient, basically. But once you’d had a few more encounters, he realized that you wanted him just as badly… that he could make you desperate, if he wanted. Once he’d had the smallest taste of control, he was suddenly a changed man; now, he loved to tease and taunt you, see how far he could push you, even once he made you beg— and you expected you’d never get to live that down.

He watched your face with a mischievous smile as he slowly slid two fingers into you, watching the way you winced and then relaxed. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, “I know you’re all sensitive still… thought you might wake up the whole house with that last one.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed, remembering how he’d had to cover your mouth with his hand when he made you come. These were issues you hadn’t considered much before, since you spent most of the year living in a dorm where you didn’t really care if anyone heard what you were up to. Staying in your parents’ house again— and secretly fucking their friends’ son in your childhood bedroom— posed new challenges to say the least.

You gasped when his fingers curled inside you, rubbing that spot that made everything clench for a moment. “Mm,” he observed encouragingly, “like that?”

“Yes,” you hissed under your breath. Just when you began to let your eyes fall shut, they shot open when he added a third finger inside you. “Fuck!”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” he scolded, “you can fit three fingers just fine— my cock’s bigger than all that anyways.”

He twisted the fingers inside you as your hips rocked, shivers running over your skin. “Yeah, but still— fuck, it’s a lot…”

“You take it just fine,” he assured. “You take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Sh-shut up,” you whimpered, and he laughed softly.

“You’re so good for me,” he continued anyways, making you bite your lip in hopes he wouldn’t notice his effect on you. Whenever he said stuff like that, you just wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was— it made you want to shove him off of you and pin him down, remind him of his place. But you never did, because letting him take control always felt so damn good…

His head dipped down a bit under the covers— and his lips latched onto one of your nipples, making you gasp and grab his hair with one of your hands. “Oh god— yes,” you praised, shuddering a bit as he suckled hard on the bud.

He moaned around it, his free hand holding the other breast and keeping you down even when your back longed to arch deeper. “You get so wet when I do this,” he noticed as he pulled away briefly, moving to suck the other for a moment as his fingers gently pumped into you. When he pushed them in all the way to the knuckle, at the same time that his tongue swirled around your nipple just right, your patience finally gave in.

“Just fuck me,” you begged, tugging harder on his curls as you felt him smile against your skin. “God, I just— fuck—”

He pulled away from your breast with a pop and a grin. “Just ask nicely, baby, and I’m all yours.”

“I know you want to, just fuck me,” you growled, but he shook his head and you clenched your jaw.

“You can say it,” he encouraged, “just use the magic word.”

You rolled your eyes, hating the juvenile way of describing it, but his fingers were still moving inside you and you just needed it too bad— “Please,” you breathed. “Please fuck me.”

“There you go,” he praised, slowly pulling his drenched fingers out of you and moving his hips to line up with yours instead. He was so hard; you were almost impressed with his resolve, though at the moment you were mostly just annoyed with it. “Look up at me,” he demanded, making you meet his gaze before he pushed himself inside you.

It was almost too intense, looking right into his eyes as he thrust into you carefully— you bit your lip, watching the heavy sigh of relief leave him as he filled you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes scanning all over your face and watching your expression change as he pressed his cock as deep as possible. “You’re fucking perfect.”

You didn’t really believe that, but you at least would concede that this moment was perfect.

You held tighter onto him, legs wrapping around his hips, as he leaned in closer and moaned against your neck. “How am I supposed to leave when you feel this fucking good?” he groaned lowly, and you felt yourself already beginning to pulse inside as you moved closer to the edge. “I feel good too, right?”

Poor thing— if only he knew that it was his own fault you withheld praise, just because he sounded too precious when he asked you for reassurance like that. He was really fucking talkative, way more than you expected; sometimes you thought if you didn’t say anything, he’d just go off on these wild tangents about how bad he needs you. “You feel good,” you replied, trying to keep it a little vague so he’d ask for more.

“How good?” he asked with a grin, and you smiled, too, because he was wonderfully predictable sometimes.

“So good,” you cooed, “so fucking good that I’m gonna come way too fast.”

“Hey, that’s my thing,” he joked. His stamina had definitely increased a lot in just a few encounters, but he still had a habit of coming quickly if you got him a bit too riled up. Not that you really minded… it was still cute, after all, and he usually made it up to you one way or another.

He picked up his pace, letting out a low moan against your ear. “Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he ordered, panting with each quick thrust.

“Fuck, Angus, I want you come,” you replied, whispering against his ear. “I want you to fill me—”

“Fuck…”

“And put all your come so deep in me—”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined again. “I’m so fucking close.”

You whined, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling your chest get tighter as you moved closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want me to breed you,” he added; okay, so much for predictable…

“Wh-what?” you choked, feeling suddenly hot all over. “Angus, I—”

“I know, you won’t,” he soothed, “it’s just, you know, pretend… just say you want it, please.”

You swallowed but nodded, holding on tighter to the back of his neck. “I… I want you to get me pregnant.”

“God, yes,” he whined through his teeth, fucking you faster.

“I-I want you to fill me up so I can have a baby,” you continued in a whisper, and he moaned again as his grip on your hips tightened. You could hardly believe what you were saying, nor that he had asked you to say it, and yet it made the most wonderfully bizarre feeling stir inside you— strangest of all, it was turning you on. “F-fuck, Angus, I’m gonna come.”

“You’re gonna come with me?” he pressed, sighing when you nodded. “Fuck, let’s do it— we’ll come together. That’ll definitely get you pregnant.”

“Jesus, Angus,” you hissed, “what are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t get you hot, thinking about it?” he challenged. “Thinking about us making a baby right now? Imagining how good it would feel to let me breed you and make you a mommy?”

“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you grunted, but you were already trying to hold it back.

“God, you want it so bad,” he noticed— how was he only this perceptive in these sorts of situations? “You want me to come in you and knock you up, I can tell. You’re gonna come just thinking about it.”

Even though it wasn’t really just thinking about it— it was him fucking you deep and fast and hard after a whole night of making love— you were forced to bite your lip and nod.

“C’mon, baby, I wanna feel it again,” he purred. “Feels so fucking perfect when you come around me— you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your heart jumped and your eyes shut tight. “God,” you groaned in frustration, but he just smiled and held you tighter.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, “nobody has to know, it’s just me— you’re mine, right? Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You whined when it hit you— and nothing had ever hit you quite like that. Tensing up inside, pulsing uncontrollably, you felt the weight on your chest lift and you dug your nails into his shoulders as he fucked you through it. “Fuck! I-I’m yours!” you blurted out, unable to stop it when you were drowning in your ecstasy like that.

He swore against your ear, and gave you hardly one more thrust before falling over the edge himself, groaning weakly as his body sank down onto yours.

You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t force you to address any of what you’d just said; he looked so exhausted that you almost wanted to let him fall asleep here if it meant avoiding that conversation. But it was just like him to only give you about ten seconds of silence before running his mouth again.

He started by just sitting up enough to kiss you on the cheek, then the lips, then the side of your forehead when you turned away. “That was so hot,” he announced, still catching his breath, as he grinned down at you.

“That was… different,” you admitted as you hoped your embarrassment wouldn’t show on your face. “You weren’t serious, right? I mean, you know I’m on the pill—”

“Yeah, of course,” he assured, “it’s just, I don’t know, a fantasy.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him. “Respectfully, I thought it was more of a nightmare— you know, it’s kinda worst-case-scenario here.”

“No, no, I know— that’s why it’s fun,” he explained. “‘Cause it’s, like, bad. Well, not bad, but… scary. In a good way! Like a rollercoaster or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, “just like a rollercoaster. That’s why the maternity ward at the hospital looks so much like Six Flags.”

“You know what I mean,” he laughed. “It’s just… if it actually happened it would be a huge fucking deal… but just imagining it, just for fun I mean, it makes my heart race. See?”

He picked up one of your hands and put it on his neck, pressing your fingers into his pulse so you could feel its rapidness. “Fair enough,” you shrugged, “you sure scared the crap out of me for a second.”

“You liked it,” he cooed, kissing the tip of your nose. “You like being mine, too.”

Even if you could’ve hid the reaction on your face somehow, the way your weak muscles still found the energy to clench around his softening cock gave you away; he purred as he smiled, kissing you more tenderly on the lips this time.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to you.

“I probably look like a mess,” you laughed quietly, “I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like after a night like this.”

“Yeah, that’s how I like you, though— you look pretty all fucked up,” he explained.

You glanced over as he moved to bury his face in your neck again, only to see the slightest blue glow in the window: the early light just before dawn. “Angus, it’s almost morning,” you noticed. “You need to go.”

“Not yet,” he begged, hugging you tighter. “I bet I can make you come again—”

“No,” you snapped, “if your parents find out you snuck out— and if anyone knows you came here—”

“Baby, c’mon,” he pouted, “I’ll be quick, nobody’s gonna know—”

“I swear to god, Angus—”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, “then just kiss me before I go.”

He held your cheek and turned your face to his, and you kissed him; you hated these kisses, the ones that felt like goodbye. They were amazing, of course, but they always broke your heart.

“I’ll see you later?” he assumed.

“You’ll see me on Sunday,” you replied.

“Nooo, I can’t wait that long,” he whined.

“Yes you can,” you breathed. “Now get up, please, before I have to literally kick you out.”

“Fine,” he relented, climbing off of you and searching the floor for his boxers and t-shirt.

“I still can’t believe you ran here without even putting a coat on,” you remembered, “it’s below freezing out.”

“Whatever, it’s not even a block to my house,” he rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Lindy across the street takes out the trash insanely early in the morning— what if he sees you running back to your house in the snow without any fucking clothes on?!”

“He was young once, right? He’ll understand,” Angus laughed.

“I’m hoping he doesn’t understand,” you groaned, “‘cause if he figures it out and tells my parents—”

“I know,” he breathed, slipping on his shoes and leaning over the bed to kiss you quickly. “It’ll be fine, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled back.

There was a brief pause before Angus dropped his arms down against his sides, hitting his legs; “Well, I… guess I’ll see you at Mass,” he announced.

“That’s gotta be the weirdest thing to say after hooking up with somebody,” you decided.

“I couldn’t think of anything else!” he defended. “I’m about to jump out your window, it’s already a pretty weird transition.”

“Okay, first of all, please don’t jump,” you replied, “but fair enough. I’ll see you at Mass.”

He hesitated, suddenly giving you one more kiss— one that lingered a little more— before opening your window and beginning to climb out.

Mass was certainly a lot more interesting when you kept feeling Angus’ eyes on you. His family had been just barely on time for the service, so you hadn’t been able to talk to him before it started; you could tell he was dying to know if you’d gone through with it.

You tugged on the bottom of your dress as you adjusted yourself in the pew; it was definitely a weird feeling, and you couldn’t stop worrying that someone, somehow, would see up your skirt and get an eyeful. The anxiety of it was oddly arousing, though— it made you understand a bit better what Angus had said about the whole scary in a good way thing.

When you occasionally spared a glance at him, you noticed that Angus still looked a little underslept; you’d both been up all night just a couple days ago, but the difference was that your parents didn’t really mind if you spent most of the next day in your room, so you’d had a chance to catch up— Angus’ parents were more determined to make use of his time off from school, and had him doing all kinds of chores and activities on Saturday that prevented him from getting more than a quick nap here and there.

And they’d tugged him out of bed bright and early for church today, so he was probably still feeling the effects of an all-nighter. That said, he certainly didn’t seem lacking in energy at the moment— he kept wringing his hands, constantly glancing at you, so noticeably that his mom lightly smacked him on the shoulder when she noticed it.

But you were looking across the aisle at him, too. If for no other reason than how cute he looked in his shirt and tie.

After the service, as everyone mingled around coffee and donuts, Angus made a beeline towards you— you’d kind of hoped he would be a little more subtle.

“Hey,” he greeted, and you just nodded at him with a smirk. “It’s been too long.”

He glanced at all the people passing by, stepping closer to you to let someone walk past but never moving back; he waited until no one was too close before he spoke again in a lower voice.

“Are you really not wearing any…?” he asked, an extra sparkle in his eye and a mischievous smile on his face. His smile dropped a bit when you nodded, though, and his eyes raked over you in the most intoxicating, lascivious way. You were sure you’d never had someone look at you like that, like they’d give anything to devour you right then— and with no panties to hold it, you felt your arousal slicken where your thighs rubbed together.

He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was looking over at him as he adjusted his corduroys awkwardly; you licked your lips, a little too flattered by the effect you had on him.

“That’s, um, that’s…” he mumbled, tripping over his words. “That’s really… yeah.”

“Really what?” you challenged as you bit your lip briefly, moving closer to him and all but batting your eyes up at him.

“It’s really fucking sexy,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” you cooed. “I think it’s sexy that you think it’s sexy.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about—” he began.

“I know,” you sighed, “me too.”

“I wasn’t even tired that day— I was wired, actually,” he laughed quietly. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart’s pace picked up a bit, and you glanced away briefly. “I, um… I thought about you, too.

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can go,” he whispered. “It’s a big place— everyone’s here, if we just… found an empty room—”

“Jesus, Angus— in a church?!” you hissed.

“Come on,” he begged, “I don’t know when we’ll get a chance again— and I’m leaving tomorrow— and I want you so bad—”

“Shh,” you warned him, making sure no one was nearby again. “We’ll figure something out— just not here. It’s too risky.”

“But I need you now,” he insisted, voice lower and darker as he stepped just a bit closer to you. “It won’t take us long— I mean, it definitely won’t take me long, after spending the last two days thinking about you.”

You crossed your arms, looking down at the floor, and you felt him lean in over you. “Please, baby?” he whispered under his breath.

Releting, you took a glance at the crowd and made sure nobody was looking in your direction. “You go find an empty room in the east wing. I’ll talk to a few people— so it doesn’t look like we’re going together— and I’ll come find you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Great,” he beamed. “Uh, which way is east again?”

You pointed him in the right direction and watched him bound away, sighing to yourself as you re-entered the crowd. You got a lot of questions about your plan now that you finished your degree— and you found yourself repeating the same stock answer about how your graduate program didn’t start until the fall so you had the spring and summer to stay home. Even though you knew you needed to kill some time to look less suspicious, you found yourself glancing constantly towards the east wing, getting more and more impatient for your chance to slip away as unnoticed as possible.

As the crowd was clearing out and nearly everyone’s attention was turned onto somebody’s new baby, you took the opportunity to disappear into the dark hallway. As you peered around the doors, you saw Angus peeking out at you through one of the little windows; the door opened, and you slipped into an abandoned Sunday school classroom, barely having time to gingerly shut the door behind you before you felt his lips on your neck and his hand sliding up your thigh.

“That took forever,” he complained, and before you could remind him it had hardly been five minutes, his fingers were exploring between your legs. “Fuck, what’re you so wet for?” he teased, and you groaned as you pulled him closer by his pants and hopped up to sit on the low bookshelf nearby.

“Just hurry up,” you hissed, “we need to get this over with before somebody finds us here.”

He opened his fly quickly, but struggled slightly to free himself from the confines of his trousers; you hummed a bit when he got it out, pressing it against you right away as you moved your hips up.

Thrusting into you all at once, you both sighed slowly; you took hold of his shoulders, he grabbed onto your hips, and instantly he began to fuck into you impatiently.

“God, you’re so tight,” he hissed against your ear. “Touch yourself— I want you to come, too.”

You reached between your bodies to put a few fingers on your clit, rubbing fast in hopes that you could catch up with him.

“Do you always do what you’re told?” he mocked playfully.

“I think the fact that we’re doing this right after church proves that I don’t,” you replied.

“Guess you only do what I tell you to,” he shrugged, which really made you want to talk back, but you couldn’t because you were trying not to moan too loudly.

He moved faster inside you, and something about the angle of sitting up on the shelf was making him hit just the right spot— or maybe you were sensitive from the exhilarating fear of getting caught.

“What if I got you pregnant here?” he purred, making you arch your back slightly. “Wouldn’t that be funny?”

“You’ve got a weird sense of humor, Tully,” you breathed, struggling not to let your voice come out all whiny and weak.

“Knocked up at St. Mary’s… it’s what God would want, right?”

“Do you never shut up?” you hissed.

“No,” he smirked, “you’re cute when you’re ticked off at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you felt a strange emotion stir in your chest: you bit your lip, willing yourself to tear away from his gaze, but you found it impossible somehow.

One of his hands moved from your hip up to your chest, palming at you through your dress. You tensed up inside, making him wince a bit, and you couldn’t believe how close you were already.

“Oh god, baby, m’gonna come,” you whimpered, moving your hand even faster over your clit; he groaned in approval, leaning in to kiss all along your neck.

“Come for me,” he pleaded, “I’m so fucking close— please come, fuck—”

“R-right there,” you gasped, gripping his shoulder tighter— actually, that wasn’t the only place you were gripping him tighter. He was struggling to maintain the pace of his thrusts, in fact, with how hard your walls were bearing down on him. “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Not too loud,” he warned you, and you bit hard on your own lip to suppress your moan: it stayed in your throat instead, and you heard him gasp as he heard and felt you reaching your peak. He had to take his hand off your chest and put it on the bookshelf under you to help keep you upright, and he looked down between your bodies to watch himself give you a few final thrusts.

He stopped suddenly, whimpering slightly as he buried himself in you as deep as he could go; you sighed and laid back on the bookshelf again, having to tilt your head to avoid a figurine of some prophet or saint that you had absolutely no interest in identifying at the moment.

Angus took a moment to catch his breath, before looking back over his shoulder and through the door’s window to make sure no one was in the hallway. He pulled his cock out of you carefully and did his best to fit it back into his pants. As you felt a warm oozing feeling between your legs, your face began to heat up.

“Maybe I didn’t think this through,” you realized.

“What?” he mumbled.

“I’m gonna have to go out there with nothing on under my dress, with your come leaking out of me.”

He bit his lip.

“It’s not sexy, Angus! It’s very inconvenient!” you frowned.

“It’s both,” he insisted. “It’s very much both.”

Though you did get another chance to see Angus before he left, it wasn’t that sort of rendezvous, unfortunately. Although, just sitting and talking with him was wonderful, too— in an entirely different way. See, that was the thing that scared you most, even more than how badly you’d come to crave his touch: how happy you felt just being with him.

He was funny, and weird, and seemed to think your stories from college were fascinating; he was well-read, especially for a high school student, and you two could chat about your favorite books— a hobby most of your classmates in college found too nerdy to sympathize with.

It probably looked totally wholesome from the outside: two childhood friends catching up while they were back home for a while. And you, you probably looked normal and cool on the outside— you were trying to, at least. But inside, you were terrified. You wanted it to be like what Angus said— scary, in a good way, like a rollercoaster— but you were starting to just feel sick. You know, like an actual rollercoaster would…

“Everyone there is so… dumb,” Angus decided as he leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.

“That can’t be true, it’s a good school,” you tried to encourage him.

“I mean, maybe they could be smart, but they act like morons,” he clarified. “They hate me, too, and I don’t even really know why.”

“Probably because they can sense that you think they’re all morons,” you suggested; and he looked over at you, as if he’d genuinely never thought of that before.

But instead of addressing that, he sat up again and changed the subject. “My parents probably want me to go back and, like, put my trunk in the car and stuff…”

“Right,” you nodded, “you should go.”

“Yeah— b-but, listen, um, before I do…” he trailed off, leaning a little closer to you on the couch. “I wanted to, you know, talk. About something.”

“We’ve been talking for half an hour,” you noticed.

“Right, uh— I meant something specific,” he explained, his cheeks seeming to get a little bit more pink. “I… I won’t be back until spring break, you know…”

“Uh huh,” you nodded, raising an eyebrow as you wondered what he was getting at.

“And, you know, we’ve been having such a great time,” he went on, and your heart twisted. You’d heard this spiel before: the things are so good now, why do we need to put a label on it? why can’t we just have fun talk. The you’re great, but not good enough for more than this talk. You decided to jump in and spare him before he said anything too… honest.

“I get it,” you promised, and he looked at you nervously. “We’re gonna be too far apart for too long— and you shouldn’t, you know, feel like you’re tied down to anything. It’s okay— I didn’t think I was, like, your girlfriend or anything.”

“R-right,” he coughed, looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s— that’s what I was gonna say. I knew you’d understand.��

You smiled, wishing you weren’t always so goddamn understanding. “But it was fun— a good way to kill time over the break, for sure.”

“Yeah,” he agreed alongside a thin laugh. “I… I think I’ll always owe you, for being my first time and all.”

“Well, you’ve certainly spent your first two weeks of not being a virgin pretty well,” you snorted. “I had a good time. We’ll call it even.”

“And… when I come back?” he pressed. “Maybe we can, I dunno… maybe we can do it again.”

You grinned and tilted your head. “Yeah, I like that idea.”

“But can I still call you?” he asked nervously.

“Of course!” you beamed. “You’ll have to tell me if you get any good books assigned this semester.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” he scoffed, but his smile lifted just a bit.

“I can come see you off, if you want,” you offered, “but it might make your mom suspect something…”

“You’re probably right,” he admitted, “I wish you weren’t, but you are— but I’ll call first thing when I get there!”

You smiled, and he gave you a hug before he left; and he promised to call again, though you’d believed him the first time. And the next time you stayed up all night with Angus, it was on the phone— he snuck out of bed with a bag of quarters, and told you the phone was free so you wouldn’t feel bad, and talked to you about everything he could possibly think of.

Except, you didn’t quite make it all night: you fell asleep at some point, while he was talking about his English paper… not that he could blame you.

And for some reason, one that even he himself couldn’t quite explain, he kept feeding the phone quarters and listening to you sleep; he didn’t hang up until it was nearly morning and he had to sneak back into his room.

[series masterlist here]

#angus tully x reader #angus tully smut

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boowritess · 3 months ago

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i love love love the headcanon of the 141 not having kids and babies and ewey.

i think that john price is still very relevant to that. kinda. i don't really seeing him having a pet honestly. unless you wanted one... sure... but nah y'know... he's old tired af. maybe a cat. probably definitely a cat.

but it's been you and john for as long as you can remember.

happy to be in each other's presence from morning to night, or simply just exist in a shared life that means you two don't have to always be around each other.

you could be shopping and he could be sleeping. he's outside tending to the stuff he had supposed to finish before he left deployment while you're reading on the couch inside. he's on a long deployment again, and you're at work.

plus the prospect of kids just never seemed to work into the schedule. "nah," john says to one of your friends, "can handle kids fine, but when i'm home, this old mans bones are good for sleep and not much else. i mean the breeding kink can get me goi-" john grunts when you elbow into his side.

"crude." you huff with an eyeroll.

"but true." he says into his beer as he takes a sip, eyes sparking with mischief.

your friend turns to you. "but doesn't it get lonely?" they asks. "wouldn't you want a little one running around?"

and well sometimes the days may be lonely for you when he's gone...

but that's become impossibly hard to focus on when your phone is being constantly blown up - not by price though. by the 141.

it's never really anything outrages or civil conversation. it's gaz asking which tie he should wear at an event because price said the black one but gaz doesn't really like the black one. then it's johnny sending you a video of him besting his previous time on a training course. though it doesn't stop there. ghost is messaging late nights for him but mid-day for you, asking about how to deal with insomnia. ghost is asking you because he knows you're awake and the others are asleep, he doesn't want to bother them.

you answer every single one, with so much care and attentiveness. you save every picture, every video and boost about their achievements to other people as if they were your own. however, people always assume you're talking about little kids not grown ass men.

yet on days when you're at home or you've come home from work. you're hardly surprised to find one of them had invited themselves into yours and johns home as if it was their own.

sometimes it's gaz crashed out on the couch who's in a desperate need of a shower but definitely needs sleep more.

or the sounds of soap in your fridge, raking around to find something to eat. "lass, ye out of cheese-" he ate the cheese. the whole newly bought block of it.

gaz and soap like to hover around you when they're home. whereas ghost helps price around the house.

but when it's just you and ghost, the oldest boy. it's quiet. there's no forced conversations but probably a few shitty jokes. it's you or him making food and the other doing the dishes. yet ghost opens up and the conversations turn into some of the most randomist, boyish, silly conversations.

when everyone's at home, it can actually be pretty hectic. so you go do the grocery shopping, but you take ghost along cause he's a little like you in regard for a need of quiet time.

oh and can't forget the days you go out by yourself only to come home with a few other things. socks for john - socks for all of them. you bought johnny a new pair of jeans and gaz a couple of shirts. and simon some more sweaters.

christmas, easter, new years - every single holiday is always hosted at yours and price. where everyone comes. farah, alex, laswell and her wife. rudy and alejandro making their way- then of course your boys...

and it's there where you've kinda realized.

you and john do have kids.

just in the form of grown men.

which both you and john don't seem to mind.

you end up shrugging your shoulders as you look at your friend, "honestly i have my hands full when they're all home. so... i'm good." you say with a hum, sipping from your own drink with a small smile as john just chuckles softly.

a/n: realized I never posted this. oh well. the no baby saga continues with john price. drink water be well ya'll xx

#boowrites #captain john price #captian price #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price #captain price x reader #cod #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish

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pawsmos · 5 days ago

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Happy New Year!!

what if instead of despair time it was holiday time and all they did was have a happy holidays.

hooray!!! happy new year from me! i wanted to challenge myself with this one. all of the characters ive drawn here have never been drawn on my blog yet (or at least that ive yet to post.)

which actually really surprised me, i get Levi, (i can’t draw buff people) but Eden or Charles???? WHAT????

ah YEAH!! last piece of 2024 as well! here’s headcanons of what everyone’s doing

• Charles, Eden, and Levi are baking. They are using Charles’ recipe. (He did heavy research and is now an amazing baker.) Rose had joined them earlier, but fell asleep on the couch.

• Arei and Whit are singing their hearts out at the karaoke machine. Arei got an 79 and threw the microphone at the wall. There’s a crack in it now.

• Hu, Xander, Teruko, and Nico are wrapping presents. All of Hu’s look perfect. Teruko’s on the other hand…

• J and Min are playing a card game. J has lost 7 times and is determined to win.

• Veronika is outside building snowmen with Arturo and Ace. It appears that Arturo has sculpted a human head on his. Veronika’s has way too many arms. Ace’s is frowning.

• David initially declined but heard that Xander was coming so..

• MonoTV is trying to be helpful by giving out hot cocoa. (Balancing it on it’s head.) Nobody has taken any.

MMTHEHTHEJJEE brainryooottt

i included a bunch of Easter eggs inside of this piece of other fangans! you might be able to spot a few….. happy new year!

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #drdt fanart #this was meant to come out during Christmas #HAHAHA #charles cuevas #eden tobisa #levi fontana #idk…#is this #charvi #??#drdt au #drdt charles #drdt eden #drdt levi #domestic fluff

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covetyou · 9 months ago

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egg hunt

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.

A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!

These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.

No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.

You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.

The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.

It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.

"The fucker..."

Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.

But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...

Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.

"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.

"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.

Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."

"And the difference is...?"

"Eggs."

You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.

"Eggs?"

You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.

"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"

"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."

He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.

Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."

It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.

"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"

"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."

"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."

"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.

"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."

"Don't it?"

"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."

"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"

You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.

"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.

"Real funny."

"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.

"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"

"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."

"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.

You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.

"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.

"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."

The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin and you look expectantly up at him. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.

It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.

Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.

"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."

Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.

Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, no trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.

"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"

"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings burst open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.

In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.

"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.

As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.

"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."

The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.

"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.

Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."

Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.

"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.

"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.

"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.

"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"

"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."

And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.

"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."

"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"

"Mhm."

"Shit."

A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.

"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."

Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.

"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."

"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"

But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.

He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.

Then you stop.

Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.

You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.

"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.

It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.

"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.

There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.

"Good, because I prefer it like this too."

"Fuck, yeah."

Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.

He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.

"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."

He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.

Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.

He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.

Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.

"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.

He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.

But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.

"I'm gonna -"

"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.

"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"

He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.

You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.

Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.

Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.

"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."

"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"

If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.

Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was, and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.

You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.

So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.

Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.

"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"

"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."

Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.

"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.

"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"

"... Maybe? Yes?"

"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."

"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.

"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."

Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.

"Oh. I - I thought..."

"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"

"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.

"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."

You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"

"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"

A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"

"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."

"Down the street?"

"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."

"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"

It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.

"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"

Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.

The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.

"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.

"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"

"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.

"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.

next part

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics #big bawl jawl #never forget the balls #fic: dress up joel

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devildomwriter · 9 months ago

Text

A Devildom Easter Egg Extravaganza

Diavolo decides to hold an Easter egg hunt. Shenanigans ensue.

Slight x reader for Lucifer, Diavolo, Mephistopheles, Barbatos

[Student Council Room]

Lucifer: “You really mean to hold…an Easter egg hunt?”

Diavolo: “Why, yes! I think it will be great fun!”

Mephistopheles: “My Lord, everything you do is brilliant!”

Diavolo: “Thank you!”

Mephistopheles: “However…this holiday is in celebration of everything we are against…as is Christmas for that matter but that’s become popular here recently…”

Diavolo: *nodding* “Yes. I understand that these holidays traditionally represent and celebrate our opposites. So celebrating them not only promotes goodwill with the angels and religious exchange students but also draws attention away from its original purpose.”

Lucifer: “I see, so that’s your angle.”

Mephistopheles: “Am I missing something?”

Lucifer: “We are celebrating and promoting the secular traditions instead. Celebrating bunnies, eggs, and candy rather than my father and father-brother.”

Diavolo: “Ahahaha.”

Mephistopheles: “Father-brother?”

Lucifer: “We’re done discussing this.”

Diavolo: “Anyway. I think it would be great fun to hide eggs all around RAD for the exchange students and any willing RAD students to join in. I understand it may not be especially popular with demons but I do want to incorporate holidays important to others too. It is vital to accept and learn about each other’s cultures and traditions to better respect and understand each other.”

Barbatos: “Well said, my lord.”

Mephistopheles: “In that case, I’d be more than happy to promote this in the newspaper! Leave it to me.”

Diavolo: “Thank you, Mephistopheles. I knew I could count on you!”

[Purgatory Hall]

Luke: “A what?”

Solomon: “An Easter egg hunt.”

Raphael: “We’ll be busy.”

MC: “Oh, really…”

Simeon: “Yes, we must celebrate our father-brother, after all.”

MC: “That’s such a weird way to say Jesus.”

Raphael: “Those are the only words in your language to accurately describe him.”

MC: “Right. Will you really be in the celestial realm all day though?”

Simeon: “Umm well…”

Raphael: *glaring* “We should be.”

Luke: “…”

Solomon: “You’re going to make Luke sad.”

Luke: “Wh! Hey!”

Raphael: “Luke has no reason to be sad.”

MC: “C’mon Raph, you can’t make a kid miss an Easter egg hunt. That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”

Raphael: “That’s an inaccurate description of cruel and unusual punishment.”

MC: “But it’s true though.”

Raphael: *sigh* “I suppose we can come back after service and the banquet.”

Simeon: “Wonderful!”

Luke: “Yay! Sir Raphael, you’re the best!”

MC: “Okay, the angels are in. Let’s go tell Thirteen.”

Solomon: “I believe Diavolo already has.”

MC: “Really?”

Solomon: “Yes. He said something about some eggs containing special surprises.”

Raphael: “I have a bad feeling about this…”

[Lucifer’s Private Study]

Lucifer: “I have a headache already.”

Solomon: “Hahahaha!”

MC: “So he’s really having her rig the eggs?”

Lucifer: “Many of them yes. I fear she’s taking it overboard, hoping Solomon will find them all.”

Solomon: “How thoughtful.”

Lucifer: “How can you be wise and yet so oblivious, honestly?”

Solomon: “It just shows she’s thinking of me. She really is a good friend.”

MC: “You may need better friends.”

Lucifer: “Considering most of them want to kill you, I’d have to agree.”

Solomon: “Most? I wouldn’t say that most of them do.”

MC: “Even some of them is an issue…”

Solomon: “Well, regardless I think this hunt will be fun. You’ll be participating yes?”

MC: “I already asked if I could hide them instead.”

Solomon: “You’d like to hide them? Not find them?”

MC: “I used to hide them for the neighborhood kids. They’d still turn up years later.”

Solomon: “Don’t you suppose that’s too good at hiding them?”

MC: “You can never be too good at something unless it’s illegal.”

Solomon: “I…suppose that’s true.”

Lucifer: “That is a flawed argument and the fact you think that makes my headache worse, please leave Solomon.”

Solomon: “Only me?”

Lucifer: “That’s what I said.”

Solomon: “Wow, so cruel, Lucifer. I suppose I’ll see you this weekend.”

Lucifer: “Yes, goodbye now.”

MC: “Soooo…what’d you want to talk about?”

Lucifer: “Nothing, I just wanted him to leave and your company soothes me.”

MC: “I thought I was giving you a headache?”

Lucifer: “You do, but it’s nothing compared to Mammon.”

MC: “That’s fair.”

MC: “So are you going to compete?”

Lucifer: “Finding the eggs?”

MC: “Yeah.”

Lucifer: *smirks* “Will I get a reward if I do?”

MC: “Hmm…maybe?”

Lucifer: “I see…then I suppose I will.”

MC: “Yes! This going to be so much fun!” *hugs*

Lucifer: *blushes* “Only you could make me so excited about this holiday.”

[The Day Before Easter | RAD]

Diavolo: “Oh, MC! I can’t tell you how excited I am to be hiding these with you!”

MC: “About that…don’t you want to participate?”

Diavolo: “I think preparing it is just as exciting! Besides, there will be some places by Barbatos too and I won’t know where those are.”

MC: “So, you’ll be looking for the ones he hid?”

Diavolo: “Yes, as I oversee everything.”

MC: “Good, I love to see you have fun!”

Diavolo: “I feel the same way. Hopefully, you’ll do a bit of searching too?”

MC: “Sure, I’ll walk with you and we’ll see who finds them first.”

Diavolo: “A competition? How fun! I can hardly wait.”

Barbatos: “Young master, here are the baskets.”

MC: “That’s…a lot of eggs.”

Diavolo: “Yes, this may take us all night, I’m so excited.”

Barbatos: “MC, be careful not to trigger the traps.”

MC: “How would I know?”

Barbatos: “They’re in separate baskets, just handle them more delicately and take care they don’t open up, even the slightest bit.”

MC: “Right…”

Diavolo: “Oh my, look how this own sparkles, MC, isn’t it just—“

MC: “Where’d he go!?”

Barbatos: “And I just warned him too…”

MC: “Okay, but where did he go?”

In the distance, you hear roaring laughter and look to see a light on in RAD.

MC: “I found him.”

Barbatos: *sigh* “I suppose I should supervise this shouldn’t I?”

MC: “It’ll be okay, I’ll protect him.”

Barbatos: “Ever so reliable, MC. It’s what I love most about you.”

MC: *blushing* “G-Glad you feel that way.”

A small explosion sounds from inside.

MC: “He’s…not being careful. At all.”

Barbatos: “Good luck.”

MC: “What’ve I done?”

[A Few Hours Later]

Diavolo sits next to you on the RAD lawn covered in pink and yellow powder, hair spiked, and hands puffy and pink.

MC: “Sooo….”

Diavolo: “That was so much fun!”

MC: “Thirteen wasn’t happy about resetting them all though.”

Diavolo: “Yes, I did apologize.”

MC: “I think she laughed hard enough to forgive you.”

Diavolo: “Yes it was quite excessive.”

MC: “That’s rich coming from you.”

Diavolo: “Hm? What do you mean?”

MC: “If you laughed and a bomb went off at the same time, I’d hear you.”

Diavolo: “Pfft! Ahahahahaha.”

MC: “My point exactly. Anyway…Barbatos will skin me alive if you come back looking like this.”

You take his hands and whisper an incantation, lips close to his inflamed hands. The pink vanished and his hands returned to normal. Diavolo let out a sigh of relief.

Diavolo: “Thank goodness. That was quite itchy.”

MC: “Now all you need is a serious bath.”

Diavolo: “Oh, will you be giving it to me?”

MC: “Wh—“

Diavolo: “Ahahahaha! I’m only kidding.”

MC: “That’s a shame.”

Diavolo: “What?”

MC: “What?”

Diavolo: *sigh* “Why don’t we go get some rest and meet early again tomorrow before the others arrive.”

MC: “Sounds like a plan.”

Diavolo smiles and ruffles your hair. You attempt to do the same but your hand gets stuck to his gelled hair, the result of an egg surprise. You stare at him, hand stuck in his hair and he stares back at you when a familiar person clears their throat.

Thirteen: “Uh…the eggs have been reset. Am I interrupting something?”

Diavolo: “We seem to be stuck.”

Thirteen: “Hahahah! Serves you right, anyway I’m headed out.”

MC: “You’re gonna leave us here?”

Thirteen: “Yes!”

Diavolo: “I see…I suppose we should call Barbatos?”

MC: “Yeah…”

[Early the next morning | House of Lamentation]

Asmodeus: “MC! You’re finally back! Where’ve you been all night? Don’t tell me you- ooooh!”

Lucifer lightly smacks Asmodeus over the back of the head.

Asmodeus: “Ow! Lucifer you big meanie.”

Lucifer: “Don’t imply such things.”

Asmodeus: “But they were gone aaaalll night. Isn’t that right? And who were they with? The hunky—“

Lucifer: “Be quiet.”

Mammon: “What’s goin’ on down here!?”

Mammon: “Hey! MC! You’re finally back!”

Satan: “I was getting worried.”

Belphegor: “Mmhm.”

MC: “One of Thirteen’s traps went off…”

Lucifer: “I see. That explains things then.”

Asmodeus: “Boo. I was hoping for some gossip.”

Belphegor: “That’s the same thing as saying you hope Diavolo and MC hooked up.”

Mammon: “Hold on, what happened!?”

Satan: “Nothing happened, Mammon. Pay attention.”

MC: “My hand got stuck to Diavolo, that’s all.”

Beelzebub: “Stuck?”

Mammon: “Huh? Stuck where!”

MC: “His head.”

Asmodeus: “Which o—“

All: “Shut up, Asmo!”

You got a few hours of rest before your alarm went off. You already had good morning texts from the angels reminding you of the importance of the day and you smiled and sighed. You changed into your Easter outfit and put on the rabbit ear headband Diavolo insisted all participants wear.

[Easter Morning | RAD Courtyard]

Diavolo: “MC! I’m so glad you’re here!”

MC: “As promised.”

Barbatos: “Good. Participants should be showing up in a few hours and—“

Mephistopheles: “Good morning everyone.”

Diavolo: “Ah, good morning, Mephistopheles.”

Mephistopheles: “Hm? You still have baskets?”

MC: “We couldn’t finish hiding them all…there was a mishap.”

Mephistopheles: “Oh? Of what nature.”

Barbatos: “The details aren’t necessary. Why don’t you take a few pictures of the setup before we begin? See if you can spot an egg and photograph it.”

Mephistopheles: “Right. And MC.”

MC: “Hm?”

Mephistopheles: “Happy Easter?”

MC: “Aww! Thank you Mephisto, that means a lot coming from you.”

Mephistopheles: “What does that mean?”

Diavolo: “I’m so glad to see you embracing change, Mephistopheles. Very well done!”

Mephistopheles: “Naturally! One can’t help but be swayed by your genius and example, my lord.”

MC: *muttering* “Here we go.”

Barbatos: *chuckles*

After a few hours You, Diavolo, and Barbatos had finished hiding the rest of the eggs and just sat down by the sign-in booth when you heard a loud scream coming from RAD.

Barbatos: *sigh* “I told him to photograph the egg not open it.”

Diavolo: “Ahahaha!”

Barbatos left swiftly to investigate and as soon as he vanished around the corner, a loud group approached the booth.

Lucifer: “We’ve arrived. I apologize if we’re late.”

Satan: “Yes, someone wouldn’t wake up.”

Belphegor: *zzz*

Asmodeus: “I can’t believe the bunny ears are staying on even though he’s slumped over Beel’s shoulder. I have to get a picture.”

Beelzebub: “Asmo…”

Asmodeus: “What? It might generate more attention for the event, right?”

Diavolo: “Wonderful idea, Asmodeus.”

Asmodeus: “Thank you!”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Mammon: “So…I heard there’d be a prize.”

Leviathan: “Two minutes, I called it.”

Asmodeus: “Tch, I really thought it’d be sooner.”

Mammon: “Huh? Are you betting on me? Without me?”

Satan: “That wouldn’t make any sense idiot.”

Lucifer: “All of you shut up and sign in.”

Leviathan: “Eep! Okay.”

The brothers signed their names. Beelzebub signed Belphegor in for him and you sat around and talked.

Mephistopheles returned with Barbatos looking very flustered and uncomfortable.

Lucifer: “What in the Devildom is that mess?”

Mephistopheles: “Thirteen.”

Lucifer: “Oh. So you set off a trap.”

Leviathan: “Does no one find it alarmingly easy to set them off? Like, didn’t even Lord Diavolo do that?”

You heard an amused chuckle from behind you.

Thirteen: “Duh. That’s what makes it fun.”

Barbatos: “Thirteen. What wonderful timing you have. Mind telling me what Mephistopheles is currently covered in?”

Thirteen: “That’s just a personal concoction of highly flammable spider web spray.”

Mephistopheles: “Of what!?”

Mammon: “Bahahaha!”

Mephistopheles: “Get it off of me this instant!”

MC: “Calm down Mephi, I got you.”

Mephistopheles: “Mephi?”

You brought forth a torrent of water to flush the web off Mephistopheles and then a gust of wind to blow him and his clothes dry.

He was left momentarily stunned before he sighed, patted himself down, and smoothed out his hair.

Barbatos turned on the bright lights around RAD to illuminate the lawn as the other students showed up. The presence of more than a few students elated Diavolo and the happy gleam in his eyes made all the trouble worth it.

Near the end of the thirteenth hour, a beam appeared from the sky. At first, everyone stumbled back in fear but as it disappeared, Simeon, Raphael, and Luke appeared in its place.

Barbatos: “I could’ve opened the portal.”

Raphael: “This was faster.”

Mammon: “Gave me a freakin’ heart attack!”

Raphael: “Why?”

Luke: “MC! I’m here!”

MC: “Hello, Luke! Your Easter uniform is so cute!”

Luke: “Huh? I’m supposed to look gentlemanly not cute!”

Simeon: “You can be both.”

Luke: “No I can’t!”

Solomon: “Good morning everyone. I’m not late am I?”

Simeon: “No. We just arrived.”

Raphael was looking around from the sign-in booth, already scanning the area for eggs as though it were a mission. It gave you chills to see his serious expression but at the same time made you laugh because this was only an Easter egg hunt.

You noticed that Lucifer was doing the same thing but he was being slightly less obvious about it, giving himself reasons to be turned in a certain direction rather than just openly staring.

Luke: “MC! Will you be on my team?”

Mammon: “What? We’re forming teams!?”

Solomon: “Are we?”

Barbatos: *shaking his head* “I suppose if you wanted to you could however anything you find would be evenly split between you and not counted as a whole.”

Satan: “Every demon for themself.”

Lucifer: “I agree.”

Satan: “I’m no longer certain.”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Diavolo: “Hahahaha!”

Belphegor: “Mm…quiet.”

Beelzebub: “Belphie, are you awake?”

Belphegor: “What…what’s on my head?”

Asmodeus: “Those are your bunny ears! And you look adorable!”

Belphegor: “Ugh. Kill me now.”

Asmodeus: “Your sleepy bunny pic has already generated so many likes!”

Belphegor: “My what?”

MC: “So how was the sermon? Is that what it was?”

Luke: *sobbing*

MC: “What’d I do?”

Simeon: “Each year, we visit the past to review the events before and during Easter and the future it will bring.”

MC: “That sounds emotionally traumatic.”

Raphael: “It is. And now we’re here. Looking for eggs…”

Mammon: “Just as father intended!”

Raphael pulls out his spear and Mammon takes off.

MC: “He deserves that right?”

Asmodeus: “Mhm.”

Lucifer: “Honestly…”

Thirteen: “He’s got some guts to piss an angel off on Easter.”

Mephistopheles: “Right. Especially when it’s about their father slash brother or something…”

MC: “Speaking of father and brother…”

You looked between Lucifer and Satan as they watched you. They looked at each other, back at you and Satan bared his fangs as his brothers and Diavolo managed to contain their laughter.

Satan: “Not another word!”

Beelzebub: “They didn’t say anything.”

Solomon: “Hahaha! I get it. Because Lucifer and Satan have the same dynamic.”

As Raphael runs past you he protests this idea and continues after Mammon who’s tripping over bushes in his escape attempt.

Diavolo: “Should we stop them?”

Simeon: “He earned it.” *scary smile*

Luke: “Simeon. You have that scary look in your eyes again.”

Simeon: “Oh, do I? My apologies.”

MC: “Anyway…it’s a good idea you came here after so Luke can recover from his trauma a little more easily.”

Luke: “It never goes away.”

Mephistopheles: “I’m not sure I like the haunted look in your eye.”

Solomon: “It’s weird when Luke is serious.”

Luke: “Hey what does that mean!? I’m always serious.”

Mephistopheles: “Good he’s back.”

Simeon: “Ah, yes. It does weigh heavily on us angels. Thank you for this event, Diavolo.”

Diavolo: “Yes, of course! Speaking of, it’s just about time to begin. Can someone go fetch Mammon and Raphael?”

Lucifer: “I’ll do it.”

Beelzebub: “I’ll go with him.”

Belphegor: “Set me down somewhere first.”

Beelzebub: “Okay.”

Belphegor is placed gently on top of a bush as Beelzebub runs after Lucifer. He begins sinking into the bush and you and the others watch as the branches begin to slowly snap and he disappears into the leaves.

As soon as Raphael and Mammon are reeled in and Mammon is forced to grovel for an apology, Diavolo is given the microphone and you, Lucifer, Barbatos, and Mephistopheles work together to hand everyone a woven basket to place their found eggs in.

Diavolo: “Everyone will have an hour to find as many eggs as possible, they are everyone beyond this booth on the RAD ground and I do mean everywhere so give it your best shot!”

Diavolo: “Many of the eggs contain wonderful surprises! Coupons for your favorite cafes, gift cards for your favorite stores, Grimm, fun tokens, cup-cuties, and more! But beware because there are also eggs that contain a wide variety of tricks of all kinds! You should expect flesh-eating piranha plants, bees, angry spiders, blasts of spider webs, teleportation, and potential small explosions!”

Luke and Mammon turned white but the demon students seemed extra excited by this news. Danger was an everyday occurrence for them and simply counted as fun or mildly inconvenient at best. As a human, you had a protection spell placed upon you in case of minor explosions. Luke and Simeon also had protective spells. Raphael opted to forgo this as he “wasn’t weak.”

With a wide smile, Diavolo raised his hand and everyone gathered into groups or faced the directions they planned to scour.

Diavolo: “On your marks!”

Diavolo: “Get ready!”

Diavolo: “Set!”

Diavolo: “GO!”

The ground shook as the hundreds of demons, three angels, reaper, and human sprinted past the booth.

You laughed and Diavolo helped you regain balance and handed you your basket.

Diavolo: “Shall we go observe?”

An explosion went off.

MC: “Yes!”

Barbatos trailed far behind you and Diavolo so you could talk more privately. You passed by students stuck to walls with spider webs. Students dressed more oddly than when they’d arrived. You passed by Mammon hanging from the ceiling and weren’t sure whether it had been Raphael, Lucifer, or a genuine trap. Either way, Diavolo burst into laughter alerting the others to your location immediately.

Barbatos cut Mammon down and you continued to walk with your empty basket as you enjoyed the sounds of chaos all around you.

Diavolo eyed your basket and nudged you gently.

Diavolo: “Is there someone you were hoping to go find eggs with?”

(To be continued | the remaining story with be different based on the character you choose to go with. They are all currently being written and will all be released in the following week unless unforeseen circumstances delay the writing)

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half-oz-eddie · 9 months ago

Text

🎁 ❤️

Max was not supposed to be in Billy’s room. She knew better.

But it was 7:30 AM and she really wanted to leave something for him on his desk.

She quietly crept in, sliding her slim frame through the ajar door and tiptoed to his desk to gently place something on it.

“The hell’re you doing?” A groggy voice startled her.

She should’ve expected the hyper-vigilant teen to wake up while she was there.

“I was—I just wanted t-to leave something here for you.” She nervously stammered.

He narrowed his sleepy eyes at her. “Give it here.”

Max slowly walked over, handing the surprise to Billy.

It slowly exchanged hands and Billy examined it closely.

“I-I know you don’t have a record player but I saw the posters in your room and I thought you’d want to—like—have something to collect. So Steve drove me to a record store to get you a vinyl.”

He stared at the Mötley Crüe vinyl for a few moments, then handed it back to Max. “Put it on my desk.” He said as he laid back down.

“Y-you don’t like it?” She frowned.

“Never said I didn’t. I’m just tired.”

Max slowly walked back over to his desk and set the vinyl down.

“Why’d you buy that for me?” He asked.

“Don’t you know what today is? It’s your—“

“I know that.” He said in a snippy voice. “I’m asking why the hell you bought me anything. You never cared before.”

“Well, last year, I tried to buy you something with my allowance and my mom said Neil would be mad if I used my money on you, so she wouldn’t take me to the mall.”

“And you said Harrington drove you? Why the hell did he do that?” Billy continued to question.

“We had a long talk about that night at the Byers and we came to a realization of how unfair we were being to you. So I—I didn’t wanna lose you forever. We don’t get along but like, we had our moments, where we’d talk to each other a little bit. Now we don’t speak at all.”

“You stabbed me with a needle.”

“You were gonna kill Steve if I didn’t stop you.” Max sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to be. But whatever, guess I’m sorry too.”

Max smiled. “I’ll let you sleep. Happy birthday.”

She closed the door behind her upon exiting and went back to her bed.

It was nearly 11AM when Max woke up again. Neil and Susan were already at work. Susan left a note behind with instructions for heating up lunch.

This year, there was no school on Billy’s birthday, so Max decided to heat up the lunch for both of them.

She set down two plates just in time, as she heard Billy resurfacing from his room.

He stepped through the quiet house and stopped by the table, glaring at Max.

“Nobody’s home?”

“No. Mom left lunch for us, so I heated it up.”

Billy looked down at the chicken Parmesan. Susan normally only made it for holidays, but Easter wasn’t until Sunday.

Max figured it was Susan’s subtle way of giving Billy a little something special for his birthday.

“There were some breadsticks too.” Max mentioned, grabbing them out of the toaster oven. “I put some of that garlic and herb stuff on them because I remembered that you like it.”

Billy glared at Max as she started eating.

“What?” She asked with her mouth half full.

Billy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nothin’. Forget it.”

They ate in complete silence. Billy finished first and got up from the table without a word.

Max didn’t expect much conversation from Billy, but he wasn’t as unpleasant as he could’ve been, so it was fine.

She washed the dishes and sat back down at the table reading a magazine when Billy returned once more with his jacket on.

“C’mon.”

“Where’re we going?”

“Somewhere. I can’t leave you here by yourself. Susan and dad would bitch about it.”

Max grabbed her jacket and slipped on some shoes, then followed Billy to his car.

The drive was brief and they stopped at the quarry.

To Max’s surprise, Billy invited her to sit on the hood of his car. He offered her a soda and cracked open a beer for himself.

They clinked their cans together and drank as they quietly watched the early afternoon scenery.

“It’s surprisingly warm today.” Max initiated small talk.

“I think the groundhog saw its shadow—or didn’t see its shadow—or whichever meant a late winter.”

“It’s…when he sees his shadow.” She paused. “I think.”

Billy snorted. “Why are we listening to a big ass rodent about the weather anyway?”

Max softly giggled. “Tradition, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.” He mumbled in response as he brought the beer can to his lips.

Silence returned again, and Billy glanced over at Max.

“So y’said Harrington drove you to the record store. That’s like…across town.”

“I wasn’t alone with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dustin and Lucas went too.”

Billy quickly responded with a scoff. “What’s so great about Harrington anyway? You defended him over me that night—“

“Is that what made you so upset?”

“No. But you defended him and I’m asking about it.”

“Well, he’s really nice. He looks after all my friends, everyone around town knows him and his family—“

“So he’s just the opposite of me.”

“W—I—I mean, you’re nice sometimes. You’ve been nice to me 4 times and I remember them all.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the gift, shitbird.”

“You better get me something nice for my birthday too!”

“When is it again? April…may…tember…”

“July.” She snapped.

Billy laughed. “I know when your birthday is, don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not.” She fired back. “You’re just a jerk.”

“And?”

Max scoffed. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday or I’d—“

“You’d what?”

Max chugged her soda and tossed the empty can at Billy.

“You piece of shit. You’re dead!”

Max jumped off the hood of Billy’s car and ran off laughing, with Billy not too far behind.

When Billy finally caught up to Max, he chugged his beer and tossed the can at Max.

The out of breath siblings glared at one another, before their expressions softened and they began to laugh.

“Hey, d’you wanna go to the movies or something?” Max offered. “I’ll buy you popcorn.”

“And I get to pick the movie?”

Max groaned. “Fine.”

“You know I pick better movies than you do, anyway.”

“Bullshit! Your movie choices suck ass!”

The two bickered all the way back to Billy’s car. Sure, this was a nice day, but Billy couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve Harrington driving his little sister across town to get him a gift.

‘Maybe I should thank him too…’

#ivy.doc #calikids.doc

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sivyera · 1 year ago

Note

Dating or jealousy hc's for Bunnymund from Rise of the guardians? I love that movie.

sure!

DATING HEADCANONS WITH BUNNYMUND FROM RISE OF THE GUARDIANS

༺☆༻

Bunnymund is a big tease and a huge flirt, so he will constantly be smirking at you, looking up and down and then tease you when you blush on his compliments

he'd always stay behind you or next to you. just in case, you never know when danger will show up

i believe he doesn't really like PDA but he will hold your hand in front of others, maybe a small kiss on the cheek

but when are you alone he'll turn into a huge cuddle bunny. he'll hug you tight so he can protect you and then he'll stroke your hair because it brings him comfort (somehow)

he gets easily jealous when you talk to other men, when it's Jack the one you talk to he'll go feral

i mean he and Jack have some... history, not that he doesn't like him but Jack stills in some way annoy him so

he'd be really happy if you help him with Easter, like painting some eggs and help him organize it

after Easter Holiday he'll probably get really tired so you two will lay down in the bed for the next few days to take a long relaxing break

when you scratch him behind his ear, he'll be over the moon! i mean it, he really REALLY loves it.

he'd let you crave something into the wood of his boomerang if you promise him that it will be something nice

he'll make you your own boomerang and teach you how to throw it, if you'd like otherwise he says that he's strong enough to protect the both of you

North will tease and "provoke" Bunnymund a lot. when North once caught him staring at you for like a few more extra minutes and he laugh and tease Bunnymund the whole week

so from now on Bunnymund is trying not to stare or do anything "extra" romantic around others but he always fails because you are just so beautiful that he cannot help himself but stare

when he means something really seriously like when he says "i love you" to you or when he's making you a promise, he'll always put his forehead on yours (it's like a pinky promise just different)

i believe he has a horrible sweet tooth so if you can bake, you two will make a lot of mess because he'll stand behind you, tasting every ingredient like sugar or chocolate, then the dough and then the finished baked pie

also when he's jealous his ears will go back, like really low down almost on his back and his fur will go spiky

but that happens only with someone really dangerous like Pitch and sometimes when Jack provokes long enough

sometimes he will also stamp his foot when he's jealous to signalize you that he doesn't like the person and when you leave he'll frown at the person and somehow growl at them

the only way how to calm him down is when you kiss his nose or stroke the inside of his ears because his nose and ears are extremely sensitive so when you kiss his nose he will be surprised and it will take him few seconds to process what just happened, same with his ears, if you gently stroke them he'll relax into it

sometimes he gets a bit overprotective and overjealous so you have to have a bit more patience with him, it's not that he doesn't trust you but he's afraid that someone can use to against him like Pitch or that someone will make you uncomfortable

he loves you a lot so he's trying his best

#sivyera #x reader #fluff #sivyera's masterlist #sivyera update #sivyera masterlist #sivyera request #rise of the guardians #rise of the guardians x reader #rise of the guardians bunnymnd x reader #bunnymund x reader #rotg bunnymund #rotg x reader #rotg bunnymund x reader #dating bunnymund from rotg #dating bunnymund #jealous bunnymund x reader

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gold-onthe-inside · 6 days ago

Text

count the odds

who? spencer reid (s8) x bau!reader summary: you reflect on the past year at rossi’s annual nye party, which brings you back to your relationship with spencer, and all the different ways your lives could’ve gone, and the odds of you both finding each other. content warnings: none, really. slight mention of r being distant from her family, kissing

There’s something about the BAU that blurs the days together - the long hours and late nights. You’ve stopped living day to day and in bursts of three days, sometimes five if the case requires that kind of time. You sleep when you can, if you can. Some holidays you can’t escape from. Valentine’s is enthusiastically celebrated by Penelope, dressed entirely in pink and white, clasping a box of chocolate covered strawberries that she’s only too happy to feed Morgan. You fear when April comes around, Derek and Spencer’s childish insistence on fooling the other putting you on edge so much that you spend the day in Penelope’s lair.

Easter’s a new one, hosted by JJ and Will, which is really more an opportunity for everyone to day-drink while you and Spencer entertain Henry, Michael, and Jack as they hunt for chocolate eggs in the park, scrabbling on their hands and knees like dogs trying to remember where they buried their bones, and dragging the two of you along to help them. At one point, Henry insists that Spencer lift him on his shoulders like Derek does, just so he can search a tree, no matter how hard Spencer reasons that the Easter Bunny would never hide them that high up because bunnies can’t climb trees, but there’s no fighting a 4 year old’s will.

Halloween is the one Spencer looks forward to all year, the day he sheds any pretence of professionalism, and you’ve never cared much for the holiday since you met him - you’ve always dreaded the spike in crime rates that time of year. You don’t clock the year passing you by until then, and your heart always squeezes when he insists on spending his favourite holiday with you, but everything blurs together after that. Your family knows better than to beg you to come around for Thanksgiving and Christmas, too many years have passed for you to be any more than a distant relative who they call on birthdays. Even that has dwindled to a text lately, and you don’t particularly mind - you’d have quit this job a long time ago if it mattered that much. You have more peace of mind now, and the sting of disappointment in you has long since faded.

Instead, you sit across from Spencer in one of Rossi’s spare rooms, to get away from the noise and the hubbub of his party. In truth, it felt like any other day, Spencer trying and failing to get you to play any kind of game that you know he’d win for sure — “There’s no fun in it when you’re better than I am,” you protested.

“But the only way to get better is to play,” Spencer replied, a slight whine in his voice, slender fingers shuffling cards.

“My ego can’t take it,” you said, pulling your feet up. “Can’t we just play Snap?”

“No way, my hand went completely red last time, you get too aggressive,” Spencer complained.

“Crybaby,” you retorted, smiling at him teasingly.

”Said the abuser,” he replied, just as quick, but he indulged you anyway, starting to divide the stack between you. “I swear, if you hit my hand, I’m never playing this game with you again.”

”It’s hardly intentional,” you said, taking your stack. “You’re just slow.”

He does his best to not smile at you giddily, he just can’t seem to help himself. There’s something about you that makes the time pass quicker, that lifts his mood, makes him feel like he’s floating on air. He likes watching the way your brow furrows in concentration, the way your skin glows under the soft light, so he’s already losing the game, not providing you much competition. He supposes that’s the other reason you always win at fast-paced games. By the time he actually registers the matched cards, you’ve already slapped it, his stack growing larger as you both play. It finishes far too quickly for your taste, and you’ve lost interest, letting him reshuffle the cards. He watched you lean back in your seat, your gaze on his hands.

“Do you think in another life you would’ve been one of those casino dealers in Vegas?” you asked, and it’s something that’s crossed his mind before. If he didn’t have the IQ he did, if he hadn’t gotten into CalTech when he did. It wasn’t a thought he liked.

”I hope not,” he said.

“So, then what?” you asked. “A cowboy?” You remember overhearing his conversation with JJ, about owning some farmland and a couple of cows, which was ridiculous to you. He was far too obsessive over personal hygiene, and the lack of libraries would have horrified him. For a brief moment, you wondered what he might look like in a Stetson.

“Not realistically.” He focused on dealing the cards, trying to ignore your gaze, feeling like an insect under a microscope.

“You don’t think about all the different lives you could’ve led?”

“I used to,” Spencer said honestly. “But I kind of like this life.”

”What changed?”

You swear your heart stopped when he looked at you. “You did,” he said plainly, like he hadn’t just reached into your chest and wrapped his slender hand around your heart.

“Oh,” you managed to get out, picking up your cards while checking your hand wasn’t shaking, putting the scrambled pieces of your brain back together as you sorted your cards. It was a habit of his that was gonna give you a heart attack one of these days, how he’d say something so earth-shattering as if he was telling you the time.

“I mean, that’s how it works, right?” Spencer continued casually as he sorted his cards. “If the slightest event in our timeline had changed, we would never have met. So, in a way, the odds of us being in this room at this moment playing cards exactly as we are in another universe are so slim… It’s infinitesimally small. A butterfly could flap it’s wings and we wouldn’t know each other.” He looked up, familiar hazel eyes on you while you focused on your cards, trying to regulate your breathing. “You okay?”

”Uh-huh,” you managed, tucking hair behind your ear, staring at your cards. “I think I’ve forgotten how to play gin.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out if you’re acting strange, and if you are, why. His eyes roamed over your face, taking in the faint blush that rose on your cheeks. As he watched your gaze remain fixed on your cards, he realized what he’d said. It’d completely flown over his head – he was just stating a fact, after all. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up,” you muttered.

“Oh, you so are,” he teased, setting his cards down and looking at you properly. You were usually unflinchingly quick, making him dizzy trying to keep up with the quips, so to see you blushing and fumbling was a rare sight. And the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. It was a new look on you, one he wanted to catalogue and study.

”Just… shut up and show me how to play,” you said.

He picked his cards up again, holding in a smile as he looked down. “Alright, I’ll go easy on you,” Spencer said, not looking at you as he rearranged his cards. You watched as he started to lay his cards down, explaining the rules as he did. He was being particularly patient, you observed, more patient than he needed to be, and you were sure he knew that you understood how to play. You just needed a distraction from the current rush of feeling in your body as you slowly recovered from his previous words. If he knew what kind of effect he had on you, he would be insufferable. You let him rattle on, nodding, trying not to focus on the shape of his mouth or the smooth timber of his voice.

And then you can hear the cheer of the countdown outside, the rest of Rossi’s guests, including your team, all gathered in his backyard, Derek and Will setting up the fireworks, and you pulled Spencer to his feet to watch from the window. Spencer stood next to you, his shoulder pressed against yours as you watch everyone gathered outside, counting down until midnight. A smile tugged on his lips, and he caught himself staring again as the countdown grew closer. 10 - 9 - 8 - He could almost hear the thrum of your heartbeat, 7 - 6 - 5 - He leaned just fractionally closer to you.You felt the shift of his body next to you as his shoulder pressed against yours, and you wondered if he did it on purpose or if it was subconscious. You glanced over, breath catching in your throat at how close he was to you. 4 - 3 - 2 - He could feel the heat from your body, just a breath away. You kissed him first, warm and soft, the whistle of the fireworks followed by a crack as loud as a gunshot, brilliant lights scattering over the sky.

A gasp escaped his throat as your lips met his, the familiar feeling of your body against his making him dizzy. He didn’t have a chance to react much before the loud boom of the fireworks rang out, the sound like music in the background of his chaotic thoughts. He’d kissed you before, he’d done more than kiss you before, but it still took him a moment to realize this was happening. His hands went to your jaw, pulling you closer to him as he responded, a shudder running through him.

You pulled away for breath, your hands at his waist, looking up at him. “Happy New Year,” you murmured, smiling.

He still had one hand on your jaw, breathless, heart trying to burst out of his chest. He was staring down at you like he’d never seen you before, taking in the way your skin glowed in the reflection of the fireworks, the shape of your lips, now pink and slightly swollen from the impact of the kiss. “Happy New Year,” he replied in a whisper.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

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uwupaige · 3 months ago

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the nanny [paige bueckers] part eight

[chapters 13 & 14]

‘the nanny’ master list!

chapter thirteen: thanks for picking up.

paige smiled at the small girl in the seat next to her, mouth agape and eyes closed. madison was sound asleep with her repunzel themed headphones snug against her head, still playing the movie she had put on earlier. the blonde gently shook her daughter awake as the pilot just announced over the intercom their preparation for landing.

madison stirred in her seat a bit before her eyes eventually fluttered open, grimacing at the ache in her strained neck.

"wake up, babe. we're gonna land in a little." paige spoke softly to the small girl. madison's once tired and painful look quickly turning to that of excitement as she swiftly moved to open up her window.

the pair peered over the window, admiring how small yet beautiful montana looked from so high up. the sun was beginning to set and it beamed a beautiful, warm shade of orange across the fields of orange grass they were passing over, complimenting the hues of the red and brown dead leaves.

˚✧.*

the rest of the day came and went with a quickness for catherine, walking around her apartment, never once feeling as if she had nothing to do. all she did her entire life was be busy. but now? she had no homework to finish, her apartment was clean, and her bags were packed. though she would normally spend her breaks from school working at vinyl, the woman had been convinced otherwise by her best friend.

her packed bags waited for her at her front door, prepared for her departure the following day. though she lacked an invitation from her mother, molly was excited for catherine to finally come up and see her in new york for once.

catherine figured the three hour drive wouldn't be horrible. besides, it was worth it to see her best friend. the two women haven't seen each other in a few years, both of their lives happening at different times, never finding open opportunities in their schedules that lined up.

the woman did one final lap of her apartment for the night, making sure all doors were locked and window blinds were shut, her stove was off and her flat iron was unplugged. her feet were protected by fluffy socks, tiny candy canes printed across the white cloth.

that was the one thing she did with her free time—get in the christmas spirit. having not grown up with the cheeriest of holidays, the moment catherine moved out, she went all out always for any and every holiday. she had the funnest valentine's day parties, the best easter egg hunts, and the most delicious fourth of july barbecues. but the one holiday she shined the brightest in was christmas.

she spent a good chunk of her time digging through all of the closets in her apartment, pulling out her decorations from last year. throw blankets and string lights to the fake tree she bought the first christmas she spent away from home, her apartment looked like a hallmark movie.

content with her surroundings, catherine flipped the light switch off and made way to her bedroom. she was quick to crawl into her bed, kicking off the sweats she had chosen to wear after her long shower, head snuggling deeper into her pillow as she searched for the most comfortable position. moments passed before she finally did, a satisfied smile appearing across her face as she reached out for her night stand. a hand came up to pull the cord on her bed side lamp, moments away from a good nights sleep.

that was until her phone began to ring, buzzing obnoxiously against the wooden table. peering over, catherine caught a glimpse of her phone screen, an even bigger smile in response. the screen showed an expanded picture of the blonde woman catherine had become so accustomed to, the contact photo she chose for her one random day smiling back at her.

"hey," the woman started once she pulled the phone close to her ear.

"hey," paige's voice rang through the device, sounding a bit tired, but happy nonetheless.

catherine turned to lay her back flat against her pillows, seemingly awake again. "how was the flight? was maddie good?"

"it was aight.." paige trailed off, looking up at her rearview mirror to find madison sitting calmly with her ipad snug in her hands. "we landed sooner than we thought, and maddie slept for the last half of it."

"that's good.. what're you doing now?" catherine continued, already missing the pair and their presence.

paige cleared her throat, eyes steady on the road and the traffic on the highway heading to her mothers home. "we, uh, just left the airport not too long ago.. we're on our way to my mom's, now."

catherine couldn't help the small chuckle that left her lips, knowing her question was rhetorical. "you excited?"

"yeah.. yeah." paige agreed, as if she was trying to convince herself.

catherine could read the woman even over the phone, not believing her for a second. "sure about that?"

paige paused, unsure how to answer. "i.." she sighed, "i don't wanna say i'm not excited to see my family for thanksgiving."

"that's not why you're not excited, though." the brunette explained to the woman. paige stayed silent, only the sound of a moving car on catherine's end of the line. "you can say you're not excited to get in an argument with your mom."

the blonde sighs, "every time i see her, she has to criticize me or what i'm doing." she explained, "it's draining."

catherine nodded though paige couldn't see her. "i hear you." she assured. "maybe try to voice that to her. she might be more receptive than you assume." catherine encouraged, paige just shrugging in response. at the lack of a verbal response, the woman continued. "you'll survive this."

paige chuckled, "i don't think i will."

"does that mean maddie can come live with me? if you don't survive?"

paige let out a full laugh this time, giggling through her words. "you wish."

"i miss her already." catherine admitted. and it was true, she hadn't stopped thinking about both paige and maddie since they left for the airport earlier that day.

paige smiled at that. knowing that catherine missed madison warmed her heart, only further proving how strong their bond was. it was endearing to paige. "wanna say hi?"

those words were like music to catherine's ears, nearly sitting up in her bed. "please?"

catherine listened to mumbling through the phone, and a quick, "speak up, babe," from paige before she could hear madison.

"hi, cat!"

her heart swelled instantly, pouting as she fought back imaginary tears. "hi, mamita. how are you? how was the plane?"

the call delayed a second before the girl could respond, "the plane was so fun! they gave me cookies and apple juice, and mom let me watch all the ipad i want."

paige could feel catherine's judgmental eyes through the phone, holding back laughs as she heard the woman scoff on the other end. "did she?"

"you try traveling with a five year old." paige spoke to her defense, catherine just giggling on the other end.

a moment of silence fell upon them, madison once again consumed in her small device, paige and catherine both waiting for the other to continue their conversation.

"i miss you guys already." catherine finally spoke.

paige grinned at that, looking down at the call screen on the rental car she was in as if catherine was right there. now that she was included this time, she felt even more sheepish, ignoring the small amounts of heat that rose to her cheeks. "we miss you, too. right, mads?"

"we miss you, cat!" her small voice chirped up, to which catherine just giggled once more. even listening to her laughs over the phone were enough to have paige cheesing.

"i'll talk to you guys soon, okay?" catherine started, her way of ending the conversation.

"talk soon, cat." paige ended, the chime of the phone call ending a reminder she'd be out on her own without catherine for the next few days, which wasn't an ideal thought to come to terms with.

something about catherine's presence calmed her. like she was the perfect opposite to help balance paige. she made the whole single mom-college student thing easier. though it was her job, something about everything felt different to paige. something genuine that she couldn't quite place.

a few more minutes passed before the two arrived outside of her mothers house, pulling into the drive way as casually as possible, not wanting to alert anyone of their arrival just yet.

sighing, paige let her head rest against her seat, eyes closing as she relished in the almost silent moment. the only noise being the quiet disney music playing in the background that madison requested they played, and the sounds of her small fingers tapping against her ipad.

taking a few deep breaths, paige opens her eyes and turns to look back at her daughter. she smiled at how focused madison was on whatever game she was playing, admiring her and her beauty.

"aight, babe," paige started, causing madison to look up. she found the woman waiting for her with an arm extended and an open palm, asking for her device with few words. "you can play on it later, just not in front of grandma."

"why does she and cat not like the ipad?" madison inquired genuinely.

paige giggled, shrugging as she shoved her newly retrieved ipad into her backpack. "because they're meanies."

madison laughed at that, going to unbuckled herself, now eager to leave the car.

paige wanted to stop the girl, to have just a few more minutes of peace, but she was out of luck. the sound of madison's door opening had the woman leaning her head back once more, not wanting to move. however, the sound of the small girl shutting her door was what made her look up nervously.

her family definitely heard that.

"shit." she mumbled to herself, knowing it was now time to face the worries that have been gnawing at her for the past week.

as if she just knew her family all too well, she soon saw her mother emerging from the front door, arms open wide for madison to run to. paige reluctantly made her way out of the vehicle, knowing she'd have to face the woman at some point.

"madison!" the older woman, amy, cheered as she squatted down to madison's height, pulling the girl in for a hug.

"hi, grandma!" the girl cheered just as enthusiastically, happiness filling her senses.

"how's my big girl?" amy started, pulling away from her big squeeze, "paigey hasn't brought you to see me in forever."

paige already wanted to roll her eyes. instead, she opted to start unpacking the car, pulling out their bags and suitcases as her mom and her daughter talked.

"want some help?"

paige looked up from the trunk of the car to find her brother ryan waiting there, a smile on his face at his sisters arrival.

paige smiled as well, going to pull the shorter boy in for a hug. "ryan!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly, her chin resting on his shoulder. "how you been, bro?"

"i've been alright." the boy answered, truthfully, "glad you're here, though."

paige looked past his shoulder, watching her mom and madison again. pulling away, they just shared a look. a look between siblings that only they understood. taking in a breath, paige stepped back and began reaching in the car for her bags. "help me bring these in?"

ryan was quick to grab a couple of bags from his sister, walking them to the front door and inside the decently sized family home.

at this, paige saw her younger sister lauren walking out of the front door, gasping loudly and excitedly when she saw madison. paige watched as the two girls embraced, smiling even more.

closing the trunk, paige walked up the driveway, meeting up with the girls, her mom off to the side as well. lauren had the same reaction as she did with madison when she saw paige, hugging her sister instantly, rambling on about how much she missed her and such.

when lauren pulled away, paige wasn't surprised at the dramatic throat clearing that came from her mother. turning to the woman, paige tried on her best smile. "hi, mom."

the blonde spoke as she went in for a hug, amy's eyes darting her as she did. "well, it's about time you said hello." the woman mumbled, though she was meaning for paige to hear. "hi, paige."

˚✧.*

catherine arrived at her best friends home in new york a few hours before sundown the next day, excitement overtaking them both the moment they finally saw each other. it had been a little over a year since they last saw each other in person, and a couple of months before they found time to talk to one another for more than a few minutes over text at a time.

catherine sat on molly's couch with her legs curled up to her chest, her best friend opposite of her. the woman had been chatting with one another for the past few hours. the sun had set and the new bottle of wine molly just purchased was now empty, the remnants filling the glasses in their hands half full.

the two had been giggling about something molly said, going back and forth about how their lives had been going. molly was telling a story about her new boyfriend, antonio.

ever since catherine started nannying, their communication dwindled, leaving for much to be discussed. and to no fault of their own—just the way life played out of them.

"okay, so," catherine started, her grip firm on the glass of wine in her hands as she shifted to find a new comfortable position on molly's couch. "he's all moved in?"

"as of last week." the woman across from her confirmed, a nod to follow as she sipped from her glass.

"aw, oh my gosh," catherine cooed, a warm, happy feeling soaring through her at the thought of her best friend's happiness. "so it's serious, huh?"

molly nodded, a far away look in her eyes as her mind fell to the man she started to fall deeply for. "yeah.. i really love him." a pout formed on catherine's plump lips as her hand rested on her heart, her eyes doe. "but, i haven't exactly told him that yet, so don't say anything." molly finished, eliciting a few giggles from the pair.

"where is he, anyway?" catherine asked, then pulling a sip of the alcohol from her glass.

molly looked past her shoulder, her black hair falling past it and her lips turning into a frown. "he should be home soon."

catherine shrugged, her light drunken state taking her mind to new places in the matter of seconds, almost forgetting what she asked molly in the first place.

and she wasn't sure whether a minute or ten had passed before they heard the front door open and slam shut, catherine just assuming it was antonio.

molly looked up excitedly, a huge smile on her face when the man greeted her, a similar smile on his tired face. the couple greeted each other as if they were alone, the thought of their possible pda not bothering them one bit. it was when catherine could see molly going in to kiss her boyfriend that she cleared her throat obnoxiously and fast.

molly quickly threw her best friend an unimpressed look before she pulled away from the man before her. "'tonio, this is my best friend, catherine."

antonio walked over to the couch where catherine had been sitting, reaching a hand out to shake. "it's nice to finally meet you."

the pair carried a short conversation of pleasantries, his accent throwing the woman for surprise.

the group then conversed for a short while before antonio excused himself to bed, giving molly a short kiss and catherine one last nod for the night.

the two woman waited for the sound of their bedroom door to shut before they geeked out, catherine the first to break as she dramatically threw her head back, acting as if she fainted. molly did a gesture similar as they both shared giggles of amusement.

"oh, my god," catherine started, "who knew mo could bag a hot, italian boyfriend?"

"you mean the man of my dreams? i've been manifesting him for years." the woman joked back before another fit of laughter fell over them. once their laughs subsided, molly continued, "what about you, mama? any lucky men catch your eye?"

it was then that catherine's heart sunk. the entire evening, she avoided the topic of her love life as much as possible. molly could always see right through her, and ever since her small realization for the possible, tiny feelings she had for paige, she knew she couldn't let molly know. that would just confirm it further, which was something she did not need.

the brunettes face changed drastically, her brows jumping and eyes widening. the alcohol in her system was not helping with the calm and collected persona she had been trying to convey. she cleared her throat as if it would help her spit out an answer even faster.

"uh, not really." catherine replied as she nervously took a big gulp from her glass, leaving it empty.

molly watched how catherine's face changed, knowing her best friend all too well. "oh?" she questioned, challengingly. "not a man." she says matter of factly, catherine's eyes bulging. her lips parted, but nothing ever came out of them. she really wasn't helping her ever growing case, now biting down nervously on her plump, pink lips.

molly reads the girl for a few more seconds—how she won't look at her, the way she's tapping the rim of her glass nervously, the way her lip was now caught between her teeth—before she gasps dramatically.

"shut the fuck up!" molly sits up in her seat excitedly, catherine desperately trying to catch up with her best friends rapid thought process. "it's paige." she spoke matter of factly, making catherine's eyes bulge once more and her stomach drop. that fact that it was obvious to the woman was mind blowing to catherine.

catherine could only scoff in response, unsure what to say.

"i'm right?" molly asks, catherine just shaking her head disappointingly.

"i hate you." was all catherine could answer with, furthering confirming molly's correct suspicions.

molly gasped again, "i am so fucking right!"

"we're not talking about this." catherine stated surely before standing up from the couch, walking over to molly's kitchen to pour herself another glass of wine. now that molly knew, she was gonna need it.

molly was quick on her feet, following catherine closely. "uh, yes we are."

"mo—"

"i'm kinda shocked. you never were a blonde hair blue eyes kinda girl." the woman began to ramble, talking over catherine's pleas to drop the topic.

shaking her head, catherine responds, "how do you even know that?"

molly just shrugged, leaning against her granite kitchen counter. "paige is very easy to look up—"

"no, i mean how do you know my type?"

"cat." molly spoke, unimpressed. "you've never dated a white person in your life."

if this were a sitcom t.v. show, molly was sure this is when the laughing track would play. and the unimpressed look on catherine's face only made this moment that much better.

"shut up," catherine scoffs, pouring the new glass into her cup. "and we're not dating." she states. "and we're not going to date."

"she doesn't feel the same way?" molly inquired, sipping the last bit of wine from her glass.

"i don't know.. doesn't matter." the brunette spoke sheepishly with a shake of her head. "i already decided i'm not going down that path."

molly shrugs with a sigh, grabbing the new bottle from catherine's hands to refill her glass as well, "i think you should. you always talk so highly of her."

"i do not." catherine defends—or deflects. her and molly would disagree on which she was doing at the moment.

"oh please, yes you do." molly stated, more unimpressed now than she was before. "even the internet thinks you guys are a thing."

shaking her head, catherine asks, "how do you even know that?" the woman was shocked once again, before she could really comprehend what she said. "wait—they do?"

molly was surprised that she was still shocked at catherine's lack of knowledge. of course she didn't know. "how do you not know this?.. i swear you only use instagram to stalk chris."

gasping offendedly, catherine's eyes bulged and her jaw fell. "i do not— take that back!"

molly shrugged, "you're not over him and that's fine.. not!"

catherine let her eyes roll, "you think you're hilarious."

"i do."

"i'm not doing this with you." the brunette shook her head once more, grabbing her now full glass of wine, walking in the direction of her room.

"you're not over chris and that's why you don't want to accept that you like paige," molly said matter of factly, "which is fine and all, but at what cost?"

"i am over chris," catherine stated, convincing both herself and her best friend, "and i don't like paige."

molly sighed, "okay fine.." she trailed off, sighing. "we can talk about something else."

"really?" catherine asked with a sigh of relief.

"no," molly laughed. "fuck chris.. and you should fuck paige."

catherine's eyes widened once more that night at molly's bold claims, almost forgetting who her best friend was deep inside—messy. "go to bed, you drunk dumbass." the woman laughed through her words.

"fine, but we will talk about this tomorrow."

"i'm sure of it." catherine shook her head before heading towards the guest bedroom she would be residing in.

˚✧.*

catherine rolled around in her temporary bed uncomfortably, growing irritated with her mind's unwillingness to let her sleep. her mind was running at several miles a minute. all she could think about was what molly said, and worst of all, paige.

she hated that the blonde only ever consumed her thoughts. she hated that she was aware of her growing feelings. she hated how much of a comfort paige had become to her. she hated it all so much, she decided to call the hated woman in question.

in her drunk state, that made the most sense.

a few more rings than catherine's would've liked passed before paige picked up, but she picked up the phone nonetheless.

"hey, cat." paige answered, her voice soft and sleepy, but catherine didn't notice.

"why didn't you tell me people thought we were a couple?" the woman inquired intensely, putting paige in the hot seat without even a minute to think.

"huh?"

catherine continued on, wondering how long until paige could read her. "how do i not know this?"

"uh, i mean.." the blonde trailed off, unsure how to answer, sitting up a bit in her bed. "people.. think i'm with everyone, i didn't think it was a big deal?"

the brunette scoffed, "oh, it's not a big deal?"

"not that it's not a big deal," paige corrected herself quickly, growing more nervous by the second. she wondered where this was all coming from and why catherine was mad at her for it. "but, y'know, it's not true, i thought i wouldn't have to tell you."

catherine sighs, nodding even though paige couldn't see her. "y'know, i never really was into blonde hair and blue eyes."

paige was even more confused now, her brows furrowing as she looked at the screen with catherine's contact photo up. she couldn't help but giggle even just a little. "what are you talking about?"

"i've never dated a white person in my whole life." the woman continued.

paige laughed again, nodding at no one, "oh, we're messing around?" it was then paige finally understood catherine. reading her was easier than either of them would've hoped. "you had a hard night?"

catherine sighed, choosing to not say anything.

"what happened?" paige asked, more serious and sincere this time.

catherine scoffed, throwing her head back against the white pillow beneath her. "oh, you just know me so well."

the blonde shrugs. "yeah, i'd say so."

"you're so annoying." the woman mumbled, unamused.

"c'mon, what's wrong?" paige encouraged, willing her to open up.

catherine wasn't sure what to say exactly, the alcohol in her system blurring most of her coherent thoughts, only molly's voice and words circling her mind. "apparently i only use instagram to stalk chris."

paige nodded, again, understanding more now. "fuck chris."

catherine couldn't help but laugh at that, paige happy to hear her giggles. she couldn't explain to paige how she was really feeling. she wanted to change the subject. "yeah.. how was your day?"

"it was alright." paige answered truthfully, "now, stop ignoring my question."

catherine sighed, shaking her head. paige could hear the woman shift in her bed momentarily before she responded. "nothings wrong."

"i disagree."

catherine scoffed. the fact that paige knew her almost as well as molly did infuriated her. "okay, and?"

"you drinking? you're meaner than you normally are."

"fuck you."

the blonde just giggled, knowing she was right. rolling onto her side, paige pulled the phone to her ear again. "how's molly?"

"she's good." catherine replied, happy the subject was changing. "she has a boyfriend."

"yeah? is he hot?" paige asked jokingly.

"like an italian vinny hacker."

"oh, send him my way." the woman joked, desperately waiting for catherine's disgusted response.

"that's repulsing, p." catherine joked before laughing along with the woman on the other end.

moments of comfortable silence passed once their laughs died down, catherine now ultimately happy she called paige in the first place. that was until her fun drunk mood turned into that of an overly emotional and overly critical one.

"i miss you." the brunette admitted, "and i wish you missed me back." the woman whined with a crack in her voice, an overwhelming feeling of being emotional crashing over her at the mere thought of paige.

"i do miss you," paige assured her sincerely with a soft voice, her heart swarming at catherine's confession, hoping it wasn't just a drunken thought. the whiplash she received from catherine feeling irritated to emotional made her head spin. "a lot.. i wish you were here."

"you do?" catherine asked, her voice sad.

"mhm." paige assured her.

catherine sniffled and sighed, her face laying against her pillow sleepily. "i really love having you around."

now it was paige's turn to question the woman's integrity, "you do? feel like you been avoiding me lately."

catherine knew paige could feel her distance. it made her feel worse about it. "i'm sorry."

"don't be." paige assured her. "did i do something?"

shaking her head no, the brunette answered with a simple, "i just don't know what to say to you."

"why?" the blonde asked, genuinely curious.

"i.." have the biggest crush on you? i am falling for you and i don't want to? i think you're beautiful and it makes me tongue tied? "..don't know."

"well.. i'd be really happy if you stopped avoiding me." paige assured her. "i really like having you around, too."

catherine grinned from ear to ear, her heart swarming with even more feelings for the woman, deciding she needed to call it a night before she said something she would regret. "thanks for picking up."

"i gotchu."

paige grinned at her phone once catherine hung up, shutting it off and getting comfortable in her childhood bed. however, she began experiencing the exact same issues catherine was merely ten minutes ago.

she couldn't get catherine off of her mind.

paige wondered if what catherine was saying were her true feeling or just drunken thoughts. perhaps they were feelings that were never meant to come out. now, she was desperate for catherine to say more. she needed to know more before her mind wandered too deep—before she got her own hopes up.

suddenly her smile fell, and falling back asleep after catherine's call woke her up sounded harder than it originally did.

chapter fourteen: the ketchup song.

six years ago..

the dallas cowboys played on the large screen in amy's living room, paige laid out across the dark, leather sofa. she had been feeling especially sick that day, compared to the many days of sickness she'd been experiencing before. the smell of the thanksgiving food made her nauseous, sending chills down her spine continuously.

the girl assumed the flying she had done a few days prior heightened her queasiness. it was odd because all she wanted to do was stuff her face with as much thanksgiving food as she could, but her body wouldn't let her.

maybe the sudden break up with alex was messing with her, too. she's been feeling down ever since he up and ghosted her.

only moments passed before amy entered the room, a glass of water in hand. "hey, hun," the woman started, looking down at her daughter. "here's some water, and tums.." the woman explained, "it should help with the nausea, and then maybe you can join us for dinner later."

paige sat up, the ill feelings already subsiding. this roller coaster sickness was starting to annoy her. some days she was fine, others she felt bedridden.

"thanks, mom." paige smiled, leaning against the brown, leather couch cushions. "it's weird, i already feel better." the girl explained.

amy shrugged with a smile, "planes will do that to ya."

paige and madison sat comfortably on amy's brown, leather couch as they watched the football game displayed on the large flat screen television. well, paige watched the game while madison was busy coloring, curtesy of paige's mother.

the smell of thanksgiving food lingered throughout the family home paige visited almost every thanksgiving break each year.

though she was raised primarily by her father and stepmother, she shared meaningful and intimate life moments in this home.

the biggest, however, was finding out that she was pregnant with madison only six years ago this thanksgiving day. the words, "i'm pregnant." were words neither paige nor her mother expected to hear for another ten years.

the memories flashed in her mind as the entire family gathered around the dinner table, plates in hand as they all got comfortable in their designated seats.

the family went around saying grace and sharing what they were thankful for, a tradition they normally did over every thanksgiving dinner, one madison knew paige or amy would never let her skip. she was always ready to eat.

paige smiled at madison as it was her turn to share what she was thankful for, "what're you thankful, mads?"

"um," the girl starts, "i'm thankful for mom, and cat, and grandma, and aunt lauren, and uncle ryan, and papa, and uncle drew, and allison from kindergarten, and my sports friends." the girl went on for a while, naming everyone and everything she was thankful for, all the adults just sharing loving and comedic smiles. "and i'm thankful for skittles the cat.. and skittles the food.. and that's all."

paige couldn't help but chuckle at her daughter, her heart swelling with nothing but overwhelming amounts of love for the girl. there was nothing paige loved more in the world.

the rest of the day went by without a hitch. paige's presumed stomach bug or motion sickness had seemed to fade just in time to sit down with her family for thanksgiving dinner.

it was the conversation with her mom after that changed the trajectory of her entire world.

paige had been stood in the kitchen, helping her mother clean up dinner for the night, her stepdad and siblings off to their rooms for the night as they would be up early the next day for all the black friday shopping you could ever imagine.

it wasn't until paige felt a huge cramp in her stomach that her mother began worrying and questioned.

the blonde stood over the kitchen, placing down the plate she was once washing off to hold her stomach, wincing momentarily at the weird jolt of pain.

amy looked over from the food she had been packing into tupperware containers at paige's sudden pause in words and the sound of groans coming from her.

"are you okay, hun?" the woman approached paige slowly and gently, lightly placing a hand on her back. "is it cramps?"

paige just grimaced as she made eye contact with her mom, nodding soon after but the pain too much to speak.

"oh, honey, i didn't know you were on your period," amy started, her hand rubbing up and down paige's back to comfort her. "that's probably why you've been feeling so sick."

"i'm not on my period, though, so i'm still confused." paige admits, the realization not hitting her as fast as it did amy, her hand stopping on her back and pulling away.

"well, when did you last get it?"

paige shrugs, the pains from her cramp attack subsiding. "dunno.. like, august?"

the older woman's eyes widened, stepping back from her daughter. "three months?!"

paige didn't see the problem in anything that was being spoken, amy's reaction catching her off guard. "i mean, yeah, they do that sometimes." the girl spoke in reference to her menstrual cycle.

amy looked like she had seen a ghost, slight panic taking over.

"mom, chill," paige reacted poorly to her mothers reaction. "why're you freaking out?"

amy had more or less began to grow frustrated, a hand falling to the counter to support her weight. "come with me."

paige quirked an eyebrow, hesitant to follow the manic woman. 'why is she tripping?' paige thought.

moments passed before the girl heard the screech of her mothers voice, echoing off the walls of what she assumed to be the hallway bathroom.

again, she hesitated to move, scared of what she was about to face.

to say she wasn't expecting amy to slam a pregnancy test down on the counter would be an understatement. the blondes eyes widened, looking between the test and her mother confused.

"wha—"

"take this." amy demanded.

"mom—" paige exclaimed, shaking her head, confusion being the only thing she felt.

"now, paige!"

"i'm not taking that, what the fuck?" the girl refused and insulted. maybe she felt embarrassed, or maybe she didn't want to realize the truth she's been questioning for a while now, but amy even suggesting that she was pregnant offended her.

"yes, you are!" the woman shouted back.

and she did.

and it was the most life changing day of her life.

two blue lines fading into place, a bright indication of what her life was about to become, and how she'd change as a person. oh, and how mad her mom was.

paige's mind wandered back to that night often, especially every thanksgiving getaway she spent at her mothers house since then. like an anniversary of sorts, a moment she'll never forget.

the blonde was sat at her mothers dining room table, surrounded by her siblings and her daughter, her mother and stepdad sitting directly across from her. she had seemed to have lost the conversation a bit, not chiming in as much as the memories playing in her head became bigger than her mind.

amy noticed, clearing her throat immediately to bring paige back. "paige?"

the woman looks up to meet eyes with her mother, flashing her a stale smile, then turning to look at her younger sister. "sorry.. what were you saying, laur?"

lauren noticed, her heart tugging for her older sister, only understanding the issues between paige and her mother more and more as she got older. "i was just wondering what you and maddie do for fun?" the teenager starts, "y'know, does storrs have any cool amusement parks or anything?"

paige shrugs, looking down at her plate, "there's not much to do in storrs, but maddie did start a sports program, so it's been a good way for her to get out. we've been having fun with that, right mads?"

madison nods enthusiastically, a smile appearing on her face, excited to be apart of the conversation. she sat up in her seat, eventually on her knees so she could see everyone better. "mhm, i get to play basketball with mom, now." the girl starts, "and soccer with cat."

amy listened in on her granddaughter, trying her best not to grimace at madison's new name for paige. "that's nice, hun." the older woman nodded at the young girl.

everyone could feel the tension between paige and amy, and something about thanksgiving day always heightened it, neither of the woman every fully moving on from that night six years ago.

"uh," amy starts, her pitch high, looking to make more conversation at the dull table, "paige?"

"hm?" the woman hummed as she chewed on some mac n' cheese.

"how's alex?"

paige stopped chewing the moment madison's dads name left amy's lips. that question alone would always make paige stop in her tracks. she didn't move, but her eyes raised from her plate to find amy's innocent and expecting ones. they stayed like that for a moment longer before paige finished chewing, swallowing her food before she clears her throat.

"uh," paige started, not knowing what to say. the amount of times her mother tried to talk about alex were way too many for paige's appreciation. "i don't know, mom. we don't talk."

amy sighs, a hand coming up to 'fix' her perfectly styled blonde hair, then crossing her hands together. "families are supposed to be together on thanksgiving, paige."

"he's not family, mom." paige responded quickly.

"we spend important days with cat, she's like family," madison chimes in, "like on mom's birthday!"

amy cringed at madison's use of the word mom, visibly this time, then looking between the two of them confused. "who is cat?" the woman asked, frustrated at how madison kept talking about this anonymous person the last two days.

paige knew if she told her mother who catherine really was that it would only lead to more arguments, which is why she spent the last couple of days avoiding talking about her as much as she could. paige tried desperately to speak before madison could, but to no luck.

"she's mom's friend that hangs out with me when mom is at school." the girl spoke innocently, picking at the food on her plate.

paige sighed at this, awaiting the lecture to follow. unfortunately, amy was not stupid, and she knew exactly what that meant.

amy scoffed, her eyes darting to paige in an instant. "that's what you're doing with your NIL money? you hired a nanny?"

paige shakes her head, unamused, "i don't even know why i told you about that."

"you're leaving madison with a stranger all day long?" amy spoke, ignoring paige's comment, shocked at the mere thought.

"what did you think i was doing, mom? bringing her to class with me?" paige sassed, scooting back in her chair as she grabbed her plate, excusing herself to the kitchen.

amy didn't want to just drop the conversation the way paige had wanted, following her daughter into the next room. "why didn't you leave her with your dad?" the woman criticized.

"because she's my kid, and i'm in a better place to take care of her."

"you hired a nanny, you're not in a better place, paige." amy criticized, to which paige just shook her head, disagreeing. "i see you out there with your brand deals and events. you're leaving madison with a stranger while you go party?"

"catherine is not a stranger. she's great with maddie." paige defended catherine's name before moving on to her own. "and i'm not just out partying. i'm working. constantly."

silence fell upon them, paige turning back to the sink as she washed off her plate.

amy sighed to break the silence before shaking her head at her daughter, her arms folding across her chest. "you should have reached out to alex."

"stop saying that!" paige turned to the woman, frustrated. "i'm not just gonna reach out to him. he can reach out on his own. i'm done reaching out."

"madison needs a paternal figure in her life."

"he doesn't want her, mom." paige explained as simply and harshly as she could. "he just doesn't want her."

amy shook her head again, disagreeing everything leaving paige's mouth.

the two went back and forth a moment longer before madison's small voice interrupted them.

"mom!" the girl whined.

paige turned frantically to the girl, sighing as she felt stress wash over her. "what, maddie?"

"can you play me the spanish song?"

paige's brows furrowed, completely lost at madison's request, shaking her head and she spoke. madison had been asking for days, to which paige would play a series of random latin songs, hoping she'd find the one. "what?"

"the spanish song cat lets me listen to."

paige sighed, "later, maddie. i'm talking to grandma."

"please," the girl continued to whine.

"in a second, baby—"

"mom!" the girl complained again, and again, and again.

"madison, i said no!" paige went back and forth with her daughter, until madison dropped to the floor, her tantrum dramatic and unnecessary,

paige groaned, pulling out her phone, "stop, stop," the woman started, "i'm calling cat, look." she put her phone close to madison, showing her she was calling catherine. that seemed to calm the girl down for a little.

it rang and rang but no answer, to which paige frowned, "fuck." she muttered, going to call the woman again.

the older woman sat back as she watched this interaction, shaking her head disappointingly and with much disapproval.

"you don't even know what she likes paige, that's a problem." amy criticizes paige for not knowing madison's favorite spanish song as she kneeled by her granddaughter, comforting her during her tantrum.

paige learned from catherine that is definitely not how you're supposed to react. who was she to step in the way of grandma, though.

paige just rolled her eyes at the woman's comment, shaking her head. she scrolled for catherine's contact once more, having lost her in the flood of her teammates and family members texting her that day.

the older woman continued to criticize paige further until paige decided to just walk away. she needed a break.

she made her way out of the kitchen, definitely not missing the sympathetic looks she received from her siblings as she made her way to her childhood bedroom, phone up to her ear as she like the tone ring.

and by the grace of God, catherine finally picked up. the phone clicked as paige shut the door of her room behind her, catherine's sweet voice interrupting the chaos in her home.

"hi! happy thanksgiv—" the woman's voice sang her words excitedly, but paige wasn't in the mood for the pleasantries.

"whats the spanish song maddie likes?" the blonde cut the woman off, sighing into the phone as she spoke. "she's been yelling for it and i can't figure it out."

all paige could hear on the other end were fits of laughter, that being catherine's only response as she teased the woman lightly.

"she's been asking all week." paige sighed, "i swear i've played half of daddy yankee's discography."

the woman on the other end snorts to herself, "paige, define discography."

paige's faced resembled that of offended, responding quickly. "shut up, that's just what it says when i look him up." she rambles.

catherine smiles into her phone, the device also held up to her ear so that molly and her boyfriend couldn't hear the conversation. they all were sat in the kitchen, having finished cleaning up most of their mess, but still snacking on bits of food with their drinks. "look up the ketchup song on spotify."

as catherine spoke, she nodded to the couple in front of her, and threw up a single finger to indicate she'd be right back, excusing herself to the other room.

"i use apple music." paige spoke plainly.

"eugh, you're disgusting." catherine teases, as the platform in which she looks up the song isn't very significant, paige forgetting to laugh. catherine originally excused herself to have a more private conversation with paige, immediately noticing how down she sounded, and the way all of her small jokes were being ignored. that wasn't like paige at all, she usually had something way meaner to joke in response, and they'd keep going until someone couldn't. "jeez, lighten up, grinch who stole thanksgiving."

paige sighed once more, shaking her head, "sorry, it's just.. been a long day."

"yeah?" catherine pries, closing the room to molly's guest bedroom behind her.

"mhm." paige sighs out.

"what happened?" she asked, her voice soft and comforting like it always was, one of the only things that could get through to paige that quick.

the blonde began to rant, all of the small jabs amy had made over the past couple of days that lead to this moment.

paige sighed into the phone once more, her back still against her bedroom door, "it's so unfair.." she started, a hand coming to her forehead, her long fingers rubbing circles on her temple to soothe her incoming headache. "and she keeps talking about alex."

catherine audibly gasped at this, "what the fuck?" she asked rhetorically, disgust in her voice.

"i don't understand," the blonde mumbles, "how does he get to leave.. and i get stuck with all the blame?" she asks, voice cracking.

this was a question that she often thought about whenever her mother would give her unsupportive looks or criticize the lack of a father figure in madison's life to paige.

"i'm.." paige starts, "i'm so fucking tired.. and all everyone does is criticize me.." the woman admitted to her friend, breathless.

catherine was quiet on the other end because only she could hear the sounds of her own heart breaking. hearing paige so down made her frown like she never had. she wasn't sure it was empathy she was feeling, but she too wanted to start crying.

"i'm so sorry, paige." catherine tells the woman, genuinely. "you're one of the best moms i've ever met, she's just bullshitting."

something about hearing those words from catherine did actually make a difference to paige. maybe it was because she had learned so much from catherine over these last three months. she trusted her judgment more than she'd ever admit.

"you think so?"

"i know so." the brunette assured.

paige smiled into her phone for the first time tonight, "i wish you were here.. you make raising maddie alone easier. i feel like i don't ever have to worry." the woman admits sadly.

"you're not raising her alone, p, i'll always be here to help.. and i'm not the only one."

a moment of comfortable silence fell upon them, and paige relished in the quiet she'd been seeking for days now. though she loved being around her family and friends more than anything, she still desperately needed her alone time everyday.

"i miss you, cat." paige spoke to break the silence, her voice sad, a huge contrast to how she normally was. however, not only was this statement true, she wanted to know if how catherine was acting the night before was how she really felt, or just drunken nothings.

"i miss you guys," the woman on the other end responded, her heart now beating faster. paige missed her. "i'll see you soon, p." catherine added in hopes to cheer paige up.

paige chuckled, knowing catherine too well. knowing why she did the things she did or says the things she says. she also chuckled at how well catherine knew her. she didn't want to admit it, but she always know how to cheer her up in mere minutes.

"so.. it's called the ketchup song?"

catherine laughs again, "yes, i know it sounds silly."

the blonde chuckles, "why does she like it?"

catherine shrugs to herself, "there's like a fun dance that goes with the chorus.. i don't know, she just makes me do it."

paige laughed to herself once more, biting her lip to hide how much happier she was now from just talking to catherine. it was the way basketball made her feel, but better. more intimate.

"thanks for picking up." paige repeated catherine's words from the night prior, still cheering to herself, thanking God that catherine wasn't here to see—her smiling, or how rosey her cheeks had become.

paige could hear catherine's smile through the phone, her voice lighten yet still sweet, "don't thank me.. and, happy thanksgiving. tell maddie for me, too."

"i will.. happy thanksgiving, catherine.. goodnight."

"night, paige."

paige's phone clicked at the sound of catherine ending the call, pulling the device away from her ear at the indication. paige's smile faltered just a bit as she stared at her now blank screen, knowing she still had a couple more days without catherine.

the blonde stuffed her phone into her hoodie pocket, finally picking herself up from where she had spent the last few minutes leaning against the door, just to stalk over to her twin sized bed. she allowed herself to flop in it before eventually leaning on her side, back facing the door. again, relishing in the much needed silence. she decided to focus on the sounds of her breathing, enjoying every second of it.

though it didn't last long, the sound of the door opening interrupting.

paige turned to look at the door, looking up, expecting amy to be standing in the doorway. however, she had to divert her attention down, where she would find madison standing hesitantly.

paige turned to the door fully, heart tugging at the sad look on madisons face, concern displayed across her own. "hey, babe. come in."

madison stepped in the room, slightly closing the door behind her, walking towards paige's bed. the girl took her time climbing up, then sitting next to where paige laid as she pouted.

the girl just leaned to plant a kiss to her mothers cheek, the same way paige would whenever madison was sad, then sitting back up to say, "i love you, mom. i'm sorry i throwed a fit." that was all that left her lips as she tried to comfort paige to the best of her abilities.

paige smiled once more, the sweet gesture enough to make her want to start sobbing. "i love you more, mads. don't be sorry.. i'm sorry i stormed off and left you with grandma." paige dramatized her words, making madison let out some giggles

"la diabla." madison agreed, which threw paige off completely.

the woman laughed through her words, her brows furrowing, "what?"

she made a mental note for catherine to give her a heads up on the spanish words she taught madison. she couldn't keep up.

madison just shrugs, also unsure of what she said. "that's what cat calls mean people."

it didn't hit paige until she sat on it for a second, knowing she's heard it before. the woman laughed to herself again at the realization, trying not to giggle too much.

"what's it mean?" the girl asked.

"nothing." paige continued to laugh to herself.

madison pouted, knowing paige was keeping a secret. the woman couldn't have madison look at her like that much longer, starting to feel bad for excluding madison from the unknown inside joke.

"hey, look what i found." paige spoke, scrolling on her phone momentarily before the ketchup song starts to play. this caused madison to gasp and for the pout to dissolve instantly.

"yay! the ketchup song!"

the blonde scoffed, "you knew the name the whole time and you didn't tell me?"

"i didn't know it was the name." the girl shrugs, sass lacing her words as she begin muttering the words to the best of her ability, paige just laughing once more.

authors note!

hii.. it’s been a minute lol. i’m better about posting on my wattpad than on here so i’m sorry to my tumblr peeps haha (wattpad is uwupaige)

as usual, tell me all ur thoughts!!

thank you for reading! 🩷

mari 🫧

8.8k words.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige buckets #paige bueckers edit #wlw #lesbian #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x y/n #the nanny

102 notes · View notes

trippinsorrows · 7 months ago

Text

with me + part ten

authors note: none

song inspo: “with me” by destiny’s child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive themes, angst

words: 5.8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You’ve never been a person who was big on holidays.

Never saw the massive appeal. Easter was annoying cause everyone and they mama showed up to church just to show off their kids silk press and frilly dresses. Halloween was too dark. Valentine’s Day was always a toss up, depending on where you and Amir were at the moment. And 4th of July….fuck America.

But Christmas…..in recent years, it’s starting to become a holiday you really enjoy. You owe a lot of that to Callie and her pure joy and excitement at the "most wonderful time of the year," for gifts, yes, but she loved celebrating “baby Jesus” birthday just as much.

And you couldn't deny that your town was most beautiful this time of year. Stunningly decorated, there wasn’t a non-resident building in town that wasn’t dressed down in HGTV worthy Christmas decor. Walking through town really felt like walking on the set of a Hallmark Christmas movie.

And the activities were endless, especially for kids.

Hence your current whereabouts, sitting on a bench with your mom as Callie partakes with a group of other kids in a workshop with some of ‘Santa’s elves’. Your eyes land on her more often than not, knowing you live in a safe area but never wanting to take any chances. You also notice how talkative she is at the table she’s seated at with another little girl. You smile. Seeing her interact with other kids always makes you happy. Once she gets past her initial shyness, you definitely see sprinkles of your extroverted personality in her.

Checking your phone from a text from Joe, you can’t avoid the pout when met with empty notifications.

Your mom, forever perceptive, notices this. “When does he come in?”

“Tomorrow,” you answer, unable to contain the smile on your face. You’re not sure who’s more excited about Joe’s return: you or Callie. Probably her, but you’re not that far behind.

And not even just for sexual reasons. Yes, that’s definitely up there, but also expected. Because one thing about sex with Joe: it’s addictive.

Having him like that for the first time in years awakened things in you that you forgot existed. No one could make you come like he could, and he knew it, hence his smug disposition during sex. One thing you were starting to realize was that Joe fucked like Roman, but he made love like Joe, and it was a deadly combination.

You woke up alone the morning after the date, but you knew that was the case because this man literally flew out for one night just to take you out. And dick you down.

But Joe being Joe, left you a note, like something out of one of those corny but sweet, romantic indie movies. It was thoughtful, but he’s always been thoughtful.

That shouldn’t have surprised you.

Just like you shouldn’t have been surprised to be woken up by Callie jumping on your bed, happy to see you and wanting to catch you up on her fun sleepover with Alexis. Alexis, who made sure that the first thing that she checked was the nightstand where that Plan B absolutely was nowhere to be found.

Used and discarded in your waste bin. That’s where it was.

The smirk she sent your way, you just knew she was gonna have a million and one questions. And clearly waiting for Callie to not be present to have that conversation was too much waiting, hence your phone buzzing with texts while you watched Wish with Callie.

Alexis: You dirty whore! I wanna know everything.

You: What’s there to tell? You don’t see the box anymore, do you?

Alexis: Bitch, you know what I mean. It was good, wasn’t it?

You: Girl…..good ain’t the word for it. 😩 I’m so tired and sore right now. He wore my ass out. Had me up all night.

You: I stopped counting after 4.

Alexis: 😖 You have no idea how much I love this for you.

Alexis: I’m also gonna take a wild guess that since you took the plan b, ya’ll didn’t use protection? He came in you, didn’t he? 👀

You: Every.single.time.

Alexis: Oh, he down baddddd.

Alexis: Shit, do I need to get you some pregnancy tests?

You: NO. It was just last night…..I may have to get on BC because that can’t be a regular thing.

Alexis: Well….don’t you want more kids anyway?

You: We’re not even dating, and you want me to get knocked up by this man?

Alexis: Bitch, you already have one child. Give her a sibling.

Alexis: And what do you mean you’re not dating? That is your man. Just own it.

It was a fun exchange, as are most things with Alexis, and it brought up a valid point. Joe was gonna have to either wrap it up or you were going to need to get back on the pill.

And you knew better than to tell her that this man literally asked you if you were on the pill and said good when you told him you weren’t. You haven’t given yourself time to process that….later date and time.

But Joe’s definitely been the subject of several dreams that left you waking up feeling aroused. Hence you counting down the days until his return, yes for Callie, but also because you desperately need your insides rearranged in a way only he can fulfill.

And you also just miss him.

Plain and simple.

“I take it things are going well between ya’ll.” Your mom gives you that all-knowing look that all moms possess. You roll your eyes, and she playfully nudges your shoulder. “I’m happy for you, sweetie. You deserve to be happy. You and Callie.”

“We’re just….I don’t know what we’re doing exactly, but….it is going well.” It seems a bit silly to not acknowledge that you and Joe are dating again, but until he confirms as such, you lean on the side of caution. Granted, you know he’s not fucking anyone else, and you damn sure aren’t either. You speak to each other as often as you can, and there’s seldom a conversation that occurs without one or both of you hinting at the mindblowing sex you’ll have once he returns.

Nope….not dating at all.

“Well, he’s divorced now, isn’t he?” You’d eventually caught your mom up on that important update, knowing that she would never really approve if his wife was still in the picture. She wouldn’t outright say anything, but her demeanor would be telling enough.

“Yes, but—”

“And he’s obviously very interested in being with you. I don’t need to ask if you’re interested in being with him, and Callie would do well in a healthy two-parent household.”

At that, you stop walking, arm in front of your mom. “Mama….you did amazing raising me all on your own. I owe you so much that it’d be impossible for me to ever repay you.” And it’s the truth. Definitely age and becoming a single mother yourself showed you just how much your mom sacrificed to keep a roof over your head and food in your belly. Your mom truly is your hero.

She smiles warmly, placing her gloved hand over yours. “I appreciate that, baby. But, if you don’t have to struggle, why should you? Joseph seems keen on being in Callie’s life and yours as well. What’s holding you back?”

You chuckle at her final question. “That’s more or less the same thing Alexis said.” Only gone for a couple days, you're starting to miss her too. She's been a great source of support the past couple weeks.

“I always did like that girl. A bit on the wild side, but I like her.” Oh, if your mom knew the extent of what that wildness looked like. Not just for Alexis but yourself. You’re certain your mom would have a heart attack if she knew you were a regular at the strip club in college. So much so that the owner knew you by name and often propositioned you for a job.

You’d be lying if you tried to say you didn’t consider it from time to time.

“Maybe it’s how we got together,” you guess aloud, sitting back against the bench. “I think I still have some guilt about doing that to his wife.”

It’s a take you’ve found yourself thinking about more and more over the past couple weeks. She may be out of the picture now, but she wasn’t when you first started messing with Joe. She was still his wife the first time you let him take you to bed, and that’s left a stain on your conscience you’re not entirely sure how to rid yourself of.

“I understand that entirely.” Hearing the change in your mom’s tone has you wondering if it’s truly wise to have this conversation with her. Is it still a sensitive subject? “But it seems they divorced before you even came back in the picture. Do you know why they finally went their separate ways?”

Shaking your head, you inform, “no, and a part of me wants to ask, but when he told me about it, I could see it was difficult for him. He had this….sadness in his eyes. And I don’t think it was because of the divorce itself but….something else.”

A part of you wants to ask him again, feels like it’s information you should know. But, another part of you doesn’t want to pry too much. If it’s a sensitive subject, you don’t want to reopen any open wounds.

“Well, if this continues to progress, it may be a discussion that needs to happen. Even if it just gives you a peace of mind.” You know she’s right. It’s just not something you’re ecstatic about having to do. “And you probably should also start thinking about what changes you may have to make for this to continue to work.”

Confused, you ask, “what do you mean?”

“He can’t keep flying in and out sporadically just to see his child. Or you. That’s not fair to any of ya’ll and not sustainable. You’re gonna have to relocate to wherever he lives.”

That….that is not something you’ve thought about until this very moment. You know Joe bends over backwards to make these visits work, but it hadn't occurred to you how long this dynamic could continue.

Your mom must see the wheels in your head turning, adding, “and think about Callie, once she finds out that’s her daddy, she’s gonna wanna be around him as much as possible. It could be easier if you’re a bit closer.”

You don’t know how true or untrue your mom’s take is, but it’s also another conversation that will have to happen between you and Joe. He’s always on the road in general. Will moving really do anything to help with his visits? Relocating is something you’ve never ever thought about. This is your home. You grew up here. Callie was growing up here. You always saw her growing up here.

But, that was also a version where Joe wasn’t in her life. Now he is. So, of course, some things would change.

You just didn’t imagine that is what would change.

Even if your mom’s guidance now has you wondering what it would be like to have a house together, the three of you, Callie, with an actual backyard she can run around in. Not just limited to the space of your apartment.

“I’m gonna go say hi to Gloria.” She taps your leg, gesturing to her friend’s store. “I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, you sit there, focusing on Callie instead of the nuggets of wisdom your mom just dropped on you.

“Long time no see, stranger.”

And just like that, you’re regretting ever agreeing to leave your place. You should have just done something at the apartment with Callie. Invited your mom over. Baked some cookies and shit.

Crossing your arms, you refuse to look his way. “Amir, it’s the happiest time of the year. Please leave me alone, and let me stay in my happy place.”

“You’re still upset with me?” He seems genuinely surprised at this, like you cussing him out in front of your daughter’s preschool wasn’t a good indicator of how upset you were. “Gotta let that shit go.”

“I don’t have to do anything but live, be black, and love my child.” Scooting to your edge of the bench, you tell him again. “Now go away.”

“We clearly need to talk this out—”

“No, we don’t need to do anything because there is no we.” You catch Callie’s eyes and remind yourself that you don’t need a part two of the last time. “I told you before. That’s done and over with. In all areas. You’ll never see my name pop up on your phone ever again.”

And that’s a promise.

“You’re so fuckin’ dramatic.” He’s growing annoyed. If only you cared. “Stop playing. What you doing tomorrow?”

“Sitting on my man’s face.”

Your answer seems to take him back. “He still around?” You don’t say anything. “You’re not stupid enough to be fucking him again, are you?”

“Amir, the only reason I was ever fucking you was because he wasn’t around, but he’s here now, and he’s not going anywhere. And without hurting your feelings before Christmas, I can promise you, dick is not something I will ever want or need from anyone else ever again.”

He scoffs, just looking at you with disgust. “Mariah was right. That nigga really does have you acting different.”

At that, your head snaps in his direction. “What did you just say?” Instantly, you see it. The regret in his face in realizing he’s fucked up. “Why were you talking to Mariah?” Your best friend couldn’t take your calls or texts, but she had time to fill your ex in on your private life? “When?”

He looks off, trying to hide the guilty expression you’ve already clocked. “We ran into each other at the store the other day.”

Lie.

Scoffing, you lean back against the bench. And you laugh. All you can do is laugh because never in a million years would you have put these pieces together, but it makes so much sense.

“Yeah, you can get the fuck away from me. Now.” Seeing him about to open his mouth again, you decide to separate yourself. “Fine. I’ll leave.”

And you do just that, moving to another available bench where you can still keep a close eye on Callie. It seems they’re nearing the end of the activity. One glance over to your previous seat, you see that Amir is gone.

Good.

Pulling out your phone, you send a simple text.

You: If you were too busy riding Amir’s average dick to message me back, you could have just said so.

There’s barely any time for you to slide your phone back into your purse when it beeps.

Mariah: ??????

It actually takes a lot in you not to call and cuss her out right then and there. You’ve been trying to get in contact with her for weeks and the minute you send her that, she remembers how to reply?

“Mommy!”

You’re grateful for Callie’s distraction. Smile on your face, you see she’s approached you with not only the little girl at her table but a man also wearing a friendly expression.

“This is my new friend! Her name is Taylor!” Taylor appears to be the same or around the same age as Callie, box braids styled into two space buns, and she and Callie share giggles like they’ve been friends for years. In a weird sort of way, she reminds you a lot of Callie.

“It seems the girls have connected,” the man speaks with a chuckle. He offers his hand. “I’m Darius. Taylor’s dad.”

Your phone goes off and you quickly glance, hoping it’s Joe.

Mariah: Can we talk?

Instantly, you reorient yourself to the conversation at hand.

“It appears they have,” you agree, offering your name and asking, “are you from around here?”

“Naw. Just visiting some family. Me and my wife.” He looks around. “She should be somewhere around here. Her parents only live about an hour out, so they came to meet us.”

“Oh, cool.” Glancing at the girls, you recognize that plotting look on Callie’s face and wait patiently. Coyly, you share with Darius, “I believe a request is coming.”

“Oh, most definitely.”

Sure enough, Callie is holding onto your leg, face peering up at you. “Mommy, can we see the fireworks tomorrow?” That’s certainly not what you expected to hear her ask. Callie has never been too big on fireworks. When she was younger, you’d have to lay in bed with her and soothe her to sleep because they made her nervous. Now she wants to go to an actual show? “Taylor is going too, right Taylor?”

Taylor nods happily. “And my mommy and grandma and grandpa.”

It's like the mentioning of additional parties triggers something for her, Callie offering suddenly, “Joe can come too!”

That gives you a pause. Joe’s never gone out in public with the two of you, outside of the hospital, but that doesn’t necessarily count. It was an emergency, not happy hour.

There’s a bit of anxiety, even though you know your town is the perfect place to do so. You’d put your head on the chopping board that less than five people would actually approach him, asking for autographs and such. They might recognize him, but they’d never approach.

It’ll also be the first time Callie can refer to him as her father instead of just Joe.

Finally deciding, you answer, “if you want to, baby.”

You and Darius share a laugh as the girls rejoice together. He pulls out his phone and offers, “why don’t I give you my wife’s number? You two can communicate regarding the meetup and whatnot.”

“Yeah, of course.” Exchanging information, you program Bianca Johnson into your phone, sending her a text after Darius says he’s already messaged her regarding Taylors new best friend.

It’s in programming the number though that you see an incoming call from Mariah. It’s an immediate decline.

Mariah: Would you pick up the damn phone, please?

Navigating to her thread, you put her on mute. It’s almost Christmas. You refuse to allow her or anyone else to ruing this for you or Callie.

________

Personally, you believe that there should be a mandatory set time for Children to wake up on Christmas. Preferably, any time after 10am. 12pm would be even better but highly unlikely given most kids go to bed extra early on Christmas Eve. Callie is no different. You and Joe get her down by 6:30pm which should have given you ample time to bake cookies, finish wrapping her gifts, the whole nine yards.

If only you two had a better sense of self-control, because the minute you were confident Callie was out for the night, he had you bent over the kitchen island. And that was….that was fine, because you’d been thinking about him being inside you from the moment he stepped foot in your place. Hell, from the moment he left.

But then you somehow ended up riding him on the living room floor, his back propped up against the sofa as you bounced on his dick, surrounded by the toys you should have been wrapping for your daughter. And while you eventually did get the gifts wrapped and cookies baked, you weren’t even able to change from out of your towel and into pajamas when this man propped you on your bathroom counter, spread your legs, and ate you out like he’d been fasting for 40 days and 40 nights.

It wasn’t entirely surprising. Joe’s always had a big appetite for sex, for you. Not that you were any better. And the fact of the matter was that having a kid meant you had to take advantage of the little free time you had, which you clearly did.

But it was now coming to bite you in the ass, because it’s goddamn 9 o’clock in the morning, and Callie is jumping up and down on your bed when all you want to do is sleep for another ten hours.

“Mommy! Joe! Santa came!”

It’s nearly impossible to hold in your groan, so you suppress it by turning over and pressing yourself into Joe. Of course, he’s already got his arm around you, holding you against his body. He’s also still knocked out.

Finding the strength, you shove on his chest. “Wake up.” It’s a bit incoherent, sleep still heavy in you and hindering your speech. Blinking your eyes open to allow the sun shining from the open curtains (courtesy of Callie) to motivate you to get your ass up, you punch him in his stomach. “Joe.”

He grunts, and you smile. “She’s up.”

Pleased with the fulfillment of her alarm clock duties, she jumps off the bed, yelling, “come on!”

At that, you sit up from the mattress, scolding her, “Calista Manaia Anoa’i, you got one more time to jump off this bed, sis!” Looking back to see Joe still trying to wake up, you shove him again. “You better get your daughter before she gets punished on Christmas.”

This helps to stir him as he lays on his back, hand on his forehead. “Leave her alone.” It takes a minute for you to refocus. His voice in general is sexy as hell, but that morning voice is something dangerous.

“Her ass is always trying to jump on and off shit.” Kicking off the blankets, you stretch and make your way into the bathroom to do your hygiene routine. Joe is not too far behind, coming in a few minutes later, slapping your ass as you’re bent over the sink spitting out your toothpaste. “Behave,” you warn. The two of you share the sink and counter space to get ready with you finishing first.

Back in the room, you make up the bed and check your phone, sending out a few, quick Merry Christmas texts, Bianca included. Even though you’ve only texted since yesterday, she seems pretty chill and you have a couple of things in common, kids around the same age, both working as teachers. It’s just unfortunate that she lives further down South. You’re not sure how you’re gonna break that to Callie, but that’s a task for another day.

Today is an exciting, happy occasion, and you’re not gonna let anything or anyone ruin it.

Joe is suddenly behind you, arms around your waist and mouth on the side of your neck.

“Merry Christmas, baby” he murmurs, pressing kisses against your skin.

Chewing down on your bottom lip, you turn around and lean up to kiss him. “Merry Christmas.” Hands on his chest, you ask, “You ready?”

He looks at you, clearly thinking about what you’re asking. This is what he’d been building up to, but you’re certain there’s some level of anxiety.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” he finally answers. You’re not certain if he’s speaking more to you or himself.

“She’s gonna be happy, Joe. I promise.” Stealing one more kiss, you take his hand. “Come on. She’s gonna start getting impa—”

“Come on!” She shouts from the living room, and you give him a look.

“That’s your child.” His chuckle follows you out of the bedroom and into the living room where Callie is literally bouncing on the heels of her feet near the Christmas tree. You’re not entirely certain, but you could have sworn there weren’t as many gifts there when you left for your shower and eventually bed.

“It’s Christmas!” Running over to Joe who swoops her up and kisses her cheek as she tells him Merry Christmas, you patiently wait for your turn, giving her a kiss and hug too before she’s pulling the both of you over to the tree.

Using your phone, you snap photos and record intermittent videos of her opening her gifts. And in doing so, you’re certain Joe added a couple more when you were in the shower. He’s definitely that dad who doesn’t see an issue with spoiling the shit out of his kid. And as long as Callie remains kind and respectful, you won’t stop him. He’ll definitely hear about it tonight, but you won’t actually interfere.

Alexa playing Christmas songs in the background helps to set the tone as well. Mostly Mariah Carey because it’s literal law that one must listen to All I Want for Christmas is You on Christmas day. Really, starting the day after Halloween.

You don’t make the rules.

Literal fucking law.

Callie suddenly pulls a gift, small and rectangular shaped, that you definitely don’t remember wrapping. “Mommy, it’s for you!” Thinking it’s something she made for you, you put your phone down and take it only to recognize that the writing is clearly too nice to be written by a child, not to mention that it has your name instead of mommy.

Your eyes land on him. “Joe….what is this?”

“Open it,” he encourages, waiting patiently.

Still in somewhat belief he would actually get you something, you rip off the packaging and gasp. You almost drop it reading the brand name written in gold calligraphy. “Chanel? Thee Chanel?”

“Who’s Chanel, mommy?”

“It’s a brand, baby,” you answer, distracted because you’re still stuck on the fact that you’re actually holding in your hand something that had to cost at least a thousand dollars. If not a couple thousand.

“Open it, mommy,” Callie presses. This girl is both nosy but also loves to see people receive gifts.

And so, you open it, gasping louder this time.

“Joe…..” It’s absolutely stunning, the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. Gold. An intricately decorated ‘C’ pendant with a diamond in the middle. C for Chanel for most people. C for your heartbeat for you. “It’s beautiful….”

He moves over to you, helping to remove it from the box. As your hair is already up in a messy bun, he has no difficulty placing it around you, as Callie exclaims happily, “it’s a C!.”

“C for Callie,” you answer her, cupping her cheek before turning to Joe. “Thank you…..” Pulling him in for a hug, there’s something so emotional about this moment, something pure. You’ve never felt so cared for by anyone.

Never felt so loved.

He kisses your temple. “You never have to thank me for anything I do for you.”

Hating the fact that tears are brimming your eyes, you punch his shoulder, needing to not be so emotional. “You should have told me you got me something. Now I feel bad because I didn’t get you anything.”

Thumb caressing your cheek, he answers, softly. “You already did.” Confused, his eyes discreetly focus on Callie who’s back trying to figure out which toy she wants to play with first.

That….that does something to you.

You look at him, ready to say something, when you see it. See it in his eyes. A deep level of appreciation that indicates a story, a reason as to why this means the world to him. There’s something there. Something more he’s not saying, but you know it’s neither the time nor the place.

Now….now is the time for something else.

“Baby.” It’s surprisingly easy to catch Callie’s attention, so you pat the space in between the two of you. “Come here. We need to talk to you about something.”

Wordlessly, she plops right between ya’ll with that naturally inquisitive expression.

“Callie….” Joe feeling a bit nervous made sense to you, and you expected as such. But you never thought about your own trepidation in this moment. It’s difficult, but you do your best to push it away. “Do you….do you remember when you asked me about your dad?” She nods. “And why…..why you didn’t have one?”

She nods again, Joe this time grabbing her attention. “Callie, do you know why I came back in your mom’s life?”

She thinks about his question, answering tentatively, “because you missed mommy?”

He chuckles. “That’s true. I did miss her. A lot.” You try not to think too much about his words, to not make this moment about you or you and him. It’s about Callie. “But, I mostly came back because I wanted to meet you.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

He nods, “Calista, you are the sweetest, kindest, and smartest kid that I have ever met. And I love every second that I get to spend with you.” Joe brings his hand to gently palm her face. “And I especially love being your dad.”

You’re not quite sure if you’re breathing or even fully present in the few seconds it takes for Callie to process what he’s just said. But then, you see it, a smile that could light up times square. “Really?” She snaps her head in your direction, looking for confirmation. “Mommy, is Joe really my daddy?”

Sniffling, you wipe at your eyes. Damn feelings. You’ve been way too emotional lately. “He sure is, baby.”

Squealing, she literally throws herself against him, hugging him tightly. “It’s the best Christmas ever!”

“I love you, Callie.” Joe shuts his eyes, taking in this moment, kissing the top of her head. “And I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you too, daddy!” If you could capture this moment, capture those words leaving her mouth, forever keep them as a keepsake to be preserved for all time, you would. Because it’s everything you’ve ever wanted for her. To know she’s wanted and loved by both her parents. And finally, that moment is no longer a hope but a reality.

“Wait!” She suddenly pulls away, grabbing the picture she’d drawn for Joe and given to him as a Christmas gift. “I’ll be back!”

He looks over at you. “What is she—”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you answer with a murmur, still partially overcome with emotion.

However, Callie is back in a matter of minutes with that beautiful smile on her face. Flipping it over, she exclaims, “I fixed it.”

Your eyes immediately land on what she “fixed,” and your heart swells. She’s crossed out Joe’s name with a black marker and instead written above it “daddy.”

“I love it.” His voice is thick with emotion, and you move closer to him, laying against his side. Wanting to be with him in this precious moment.

Callie wasn’t lying.

This truly is the best Christmas.

________

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!”

Callie’s animated voice somehow travels to you and Joe despite all of the hustle and bustle occurring around you, the sea of bodies waiting for the fireworks show to begin. There’s not much distance between the two of you and her, enough for Joe to grab her if need be.

You walk close with him, you hands locked around his bicep.

His discomfort is obvious, so you assure, “relax. You’re not the tribal chief around here.” He glances at you. “They may notice you, but they’ll leave you alone. Especially since it’s Christmas.”

This seems to relieve him as she explains, “tonight is about her. I just don’t want to take away from that.”

“And you won’t, I promise. Just….just be present in this moment.” He takes your hand in his, giving a gentle squeeze. Continuing to walk with him, your eyes land on Taylor, Darius, and a woman who, even from a distance, looks vaguely familiar.

“Taylor!”

Callie rushes over to her new best friend, and the two embrace. You almost wish you had your phone out to take a picture. The woman wears a friendly smile, but instantly, something feels off. She approaches you, asking, “Y/N?”

Nodding, you’re shocked when she pulls you in for a hug and then apologizes. “I'm sorry. I’m a hugger, and I just feel like I know you already.”

Callie takes this moment to jump back in the conversation, rushing over to Joe and introducing, “this is my daddy!”

That settles some of your anxiety. You’re not certain you’ll ever get tired of hearing her refer to him as such, and you know he won’t either.

“Man, uhh, hi, nice–nice to meet you.” Immediately, you know that Darius most definitely recognizes Joe. “Big fan.”

“Thanks, man.” Joe, understandably, keeps it simple, and you clear your throat.

“Thank you for arranging this with us. Callie seems to really like Taylor.”

“Taylor too,” Bianca expresses with a smile, as you realize she also has dimples. It’s a little thing, stupid, but as much as you try, you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. “I swear, you would think they’ve known each other for years.”

Joe chuckles. “They’ve hit it off pretty well.”

“I’m sorry.” You hate being so off-putting and direct, especially given all of your text exchanges with this woman have gone so well, but you have to ask, “have we m—-”

“Bianca!”

A woman’s voice calls out, interrupting your conversation.

She looks past you and smiles, waving whoever it is over. “My parents,” she informs. “Over here!”

Callie and Taylor are immersed in a conversation, as you make eye-contact with Joe who gives you that ‘what’s wrong?’ expression. Answering truthfully, you shrug and murmur, “I don’t know.”

The presence of Taylor’s grandparents snatches her attention from Callie. “Grandpa!”

Turning around, you manage a small, inauthentic smile to introduce yourself when you see it. And everything is suddenly ten ways wrong.

There’s a brief second where you question yourself, question your vision, question your entire existence. But as he smiles, holding and kissing his grandchild on the cheek, you just know, know that you’re not wrong.

“Dad,” Bianca speaks, but you’re someplace else, someplace much different. “This is Y/N and…..”

She’s talking, but you’ve completely dissociated. You can’t say anything, paralyzed with shock and an overwhelming feeling of heartache.

That’s why she looked so familiar. You saw her that day at the precinct, coming into his office to inform him of her sibling’s misbehavior. This is his daughter.

This is your sister.

The daughter he picked over you.

And this is your father.

You’re going to be sick.

Partially aware of Joe’s suddenly cautious gaze on you, you place one hand over your stomach. “Excuse….excuse me….I—” You feel like you’re going to pass out, like four walls surround and are gradually closing in on you. Your throat is about to close up. “I have to go.” And you run, you run as far as your legs can take you, away from that situation, away from that visceral blast from the past, away from the overwhelming emotions that are threatening to overcome you.

And you don’t stop.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #roman reigns x black!reader #arisnotebook #black writers

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