#i realized that when i was doin aged care | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetpascal · 4 months ago

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𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐱

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: only one more day remains in the week before your mom returns home. your feelings for joel have deepened, and he's aware of it; it's evident to him. he's tempted to maintain his distance, yet he can't deny that you've become the most captivating presence in his life.

warnings: MINORS DNI. DUB-CON. NON-CON. big age gap [18/52], pussy inspection, fingering, forced squirting, pussy pronouns, joel "just the tip" miller turns into joel "i'll make it fit" miller, TW: light vaginal bleeding, belly bulging, reader is considered petite in height and body type, two (2) pussy spanks, missionaryyyy, choking, finger sucking, dacryphilia, joel is a dirty nasty old man okay, he's a meanie, phone sex (again, joel is REALLY fucking nasty), dirty nicknames (daddy's whore, daddy's bitch), this is all in joel's pov

wc: 7.6k

notes: this series literally would have been HALTED for a while if it weren't for @taeslarityy helping me with brainstorming and constructing how i should continue this chapter. cause pookies, i was stumped. i had no motivation for this series--until yasi and her lovely fucking brain gave me a kick in the ass and got me back up again 🥹🛐 also, i'm genuinely so disappointed in this chapter. it's been such a long wait and halfway through writing, i've deleted it so many times. and even now, i'm so unhappy with the outcome cause i feel like i just rushed through it and forced myself to finish it :(( but hey, one more chapter left. 🩷

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As Joel wakes up in the morning, he senses immediately that something is amiss. He sits up with a hoarse grunt, feeling his lower back muscles pinch and pull. Rubbing his eyes to clear the blurriness, he notices an absence of warmth. The night before, he recalls carrying you to the bedroom, the very one he has shared with your mom for years. He remembers laying down, letting your trembling body curl into his, and gently hushing you to sleep. Now, he's greeted by the cold, empty space in the bed where you slept, mocking him with its emptiness.

In an instant, a surge of panic and fury overwhelmed him, fueled by the thought that you had left without telling him again. The doors unlocked, his car taken, driven wherever your little heart desires. The house's silence confirmed his suspicions of your departure. However, as he swung his legs off the bed, he halted, spotting the small figure curled up on the floor, mere feet from where he lay.

Joel's breath catches in his throat as he approaches, seeing your small form turned away from him. The gentle rise and fall of your shoulders assure him you're still breathing, alleviating his fear that something terrible had occurred. Yet, he can't help but wonder what prompted you to shift away from him to the ground while he was asleep. Were you scared of him? Did you witness or overhear the incident with your friend? Joel kneels down and places a tender hand on your shoulder.

"Baby?" he whispers, careful not to startle you. "Come on, honey, time to wake up." He gives your shoulder a firmer shake, chuckling softly as you respond with a sleepy murmur.

As you begin to wake up, the only sensations are the ache in your neck from the awkward position and an intense coldness. You chose to leave Joel's warmth after coming to the realization that you didn't deserve the comfort and coziness of sharing a bed with him. Joel had taught you not comfort and warmth, but pleasure and pain. You didn't want to start the day being a bad girl for him.

"The hell you doin' on the floor, baby?" Joel couldn't help but laugh when you spring up, nearly cracking your head against his chin. "Hey, hey, easy." The sternness in his voice had you calming down.

A moment of silence enveloped you, allowing full consciousness to take hold. With a soft whimper, you nestled closer to Joel, your nose comfortably tucking in just beneath his jawline, feeling the steady rhythm of his pulse against your skin. He pulls you onto his lap and leans back against the bed, comfortably stretching out his legs to hold you closer to his chest.

"You want to tell me why you were on the floor?" he asks quietly, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as you squirm in his hold, desperate to feel some of his warmth.

Joel feels you shrug under his hands. "I dunno," you say so softly that he has to strain his good ear to hear you properly. "I didn't want you to wake up and see me next to you. And... I didn't want to be a bad girl by staying in your bed. I-I think on the floor is better for me."

Joel is caught off guard by the response; it's not what he anticipated. He thought you would be fearful of him and would seek to keep a distance, yet remain within reach. As you look up at him, a slight widening of his eyes occurs, your lashes fluttering and the innocent smile on your lips hinting that if heart-shaped pupils were real, they'd appear in your eyes every time you looked at Joel. He doubts how much longer he can ignore this feeling before it inevitably consumes him. It's gnawing at his insides, twisting and pulling with force. It's a familiar sinking sensation, one he's experienced too often. But now, as you gaze at him with a doe-eyed look on your innocent face, Joel realizes he's in too deep. He's got you hooked, which was his intention, but now you're too hooked. He's searching for an escape. He needs a way out. The voice in his head is screaming, growing louder, louder, LOUDER.

Get out, Joel. Get out. Get the fuck out. Run. Don't get too close. Don't let her fall too deep. Run. Run. Run. Make it hurt. Ruin in. Ruin her. Make her hurt. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out.

"Daddy?"

The sound of a soft voice causes his eyes to fly open, not recalling the moment they had closed. The voice fades away, leaving silence behind. He senses your presence; your skin, your weight, your gentle breath against his neck. You are all he perceives. Yet, this incites anger within him. The sensation is overpowering, his skin grows warm as the walls seem to draw nearer. Joel's breath quickens. Disregarding the concern on your face, he chooses to shut his eyes once more, withdrawing his hands from you to form tight fists.

"Daddy?"

Once more, it's your voice, yet softer and fainter. Joel's jaw tightens, and he grinds his teeth while your voice sears through his ear canal, coiling throughout his brain and delving deeper into the membrane. He tries to steady his breathing, but flashes of your body, bruised and battered, eyes fearful with tears, pussy leaking all over his cock show up behind his closed eyes like a slideshow, and it's as though he was suddenly injected with a drug directly into his veins. His breath steadies and his hands relax. Joel's eyes open to a half-lidded gaze, emotionless as he stares back. He understands the necessary actions; it's for the best. He won't let himself become entangled in any feelings you may harbor towards him.

That's not who he is, nor who he will ever become.

It has been exactly sixteen hours, thirty-two minutes, and forty-eight seconds since the last time Joel has kissed your lips. His body is aching to feel their plush softness and subtle sweetness. To feel them wrapped around his thick cock, tightening all around and swallowing down his cum. To feel them pressed into his neck as you struggle to keep in your little whimpers of sinned pleasure as you fall apart on his fingers. Joel can feel the monster within him, howling and screeching to be released.

He can't.

He won't.

Joel confronts the intricate desires he diligently avoided. Their abrupt emergence, without a moment for him to brace himself, leaves him feeling disarrayed and distant from the man he strived to become. The facade he maintained for years has dissipated. Gone is Joel Miller; the husband, stepfather, boss, and big brother. Now, there was Joel Miller; pervert, predator, stepfather that creeps on his wife's daughter, violator. All the things he has desperately tried to hide away, he now became.

The haunting is relentless, day after day. Living in the same house as the person who evokes such darkness is excruciating. He feels akin to a caged animal, circling endlessly, biding time for an opening to pounce on any unsuspecting individual. Joel is convinced that the only escape from this torment is to confront it head-on. He knows. He also knows it's sick and disgusting, but it excites him unlike anything else. He enables it.

Joel watches from afar, conscious of the negative impact his behavior has had on you today. He notices your fidgeting and the way you quiet down when his glare falls upon you. Your averted gaze and pouted lips communicate all he needs to understand. This experience is as torturous for you as it is for him. Nonetheless, the voice persists, refusing to be silenced. This withdrawal seems to only fuel its anger, making it more aggressive and deafening. It's pushing Joel to the brink of madness.

You had to have known what you're doing to him. Joel firmly believes that you're being a fucking tease on purpose, wearing your soft sleep shorts and paper-thin camisole tank top. When you bend down, Joel could see how your shorts tighten around the shape of your ass and pussy lips, giving him a tasteful view of camel toe, and if he looks any closer, he could possibly see a wet spot on the fabric. He knows what you're doing, whether you know it yourself or not. It's like your body calls out to him, begging to be defiled, begging to be touched by his perverted hands. Whether you know it or not, you need him as much as he needs you.

The house is enveloped in silence. Joel has not uttered a single word for several hours. The quiet has persisted from morning until late afternoon. Nursing a beer, he attempts to divert his mind and avoid being overwhelmed by thoughts of you, his stepdaughter. The task was proven to be the most difficult he's ever had to endure considering the fact that you took a seat beside Joel on the couch and now, you won't stop fucking moving.

It would be a minute of stillness. Then, you would huff and shuffle in your seat, bare thighs brushing against Joel's jean-clad thigh. It was clockwork. Every time he tilted his head back to take a gulp of his beer, your movements jostled his side. With each sip, he grunted and nudged you roughly with his elbow, trying to push you away, yet you edged closer after each shove.

"Enough," Joel grunts for the umpteenth time, opting to use his hand this time to shove you away, albeit harder than the rest. "Sit your ass over there and give me some fuckin' space."

He notices your trembling lips and the tears brimming in your eyes. With a deep sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose. All he desired was to savor a beer in the afternoon without your tears for every mistake he made, yet he realizes it was a situation he brought upon himself. Evidently, he has managed to reduce you to a state of dependency. Now, it was time to break you down even further until you can no longer cry, only accept your fate.

"Alright," he sighs once more, taking a sip of his beer before turning to you. "What's goin' on? Hm? Why is so goddamn important that you have to be glued at side?" Joel didn't intend to come off as harsh, but his nerves were ablaze, everything was humming, his clothes felt constricting, and the thought of your mother lingered in his mind, an unsettling presence.

He notices you curled up, knees drawn to your chest and arms encircling them. Resting your chin on your knees, you cast him a nervous glance. Joel lifts his eyebrows and gestures with his hand, urging you to speak. He understands that your attachment to him isn't your doing; it's precisely what he desired. Yet, he can't deny the thrill he gets from your reliance on him. Knowing that he's the one you yearn for fills him with a smug satisfaction, inflating his ego immensely.

A young, pretty little thing like yourself eager to please a dirty old man like him.

Clearing your throat in the softest way possible, you tell him, "I've been getting that feeling again... down there. And it won't go away no matter how many times I try to think about something else. I need your help to make it go away, Daddy. Please, help me." The last sentence comes out as a whisper, almost like a secret you're trying to keep for yourself, but Joel heard every word.

Looking at you right now, his sleezy eyes swallow every inch. His fingers twitch on his lap as his hand tightens around the neck of the beer bottle. There's a warmth stirring in his gut. His jaw tensed and clenches as he tries to fight off the sexually violent images of you in his mind.

With the way you're staring at him, Joel knows what has to be done.

That's where he has you now, laid out on his and your mom's shared bed, bare naked and trembling, silky thighs spread wide open with your hands under the crook of your knees to keep them that way. Joel is kneeling between them, clad in only his jeans, his shirt long gone. He's staring down at you like a feral wolf waiting for the perfect moment to attack the pathetic bunny cowering in a tree stump. His mouth waters as he thinks about sinking his teeth into your flesh and drinking your sweet blood. His hands tremble as they start to stroke along your inner thigh, savoring the way you tremble under his fingertips.

"She's just drooling for me, ain't she?" Though the question was rhetorical, you still nod. Joel grins and lets out a deep chuckle before biting down on his bottom lip as his thumbs get closer to your sweet pussy.

He knows he's teasing at this point. The little flutters your pussy gives him tells him all that he needs to know. He only wonders how far he'd have to go for you to finally crack and lose composure. A pearly drop of slick slowly pools out of your hole and slides down to your other tight-ringed hole. Joel catches it with his thumb and gently swipes it up to your clit before pulling his thumb away, a string of arousal connecting from the fingertip to your clit. He sees you glancing down at it as he shows it off to you with a sadistic grin on his face.

"You see that?" he whispers, his plush lips parting as he continues swiping through your slick, subtle wet noises colliding with the sounds of your heavy breathing. "So messy down here, honey girl."

Joel's dick thickens underneath the two layers he wears on his bottom half. The throbbing is constant, his heavy balls pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He's surprised the button of his jeans hasn't popped open. With one hand, he unbuttons and slides down the zipper agonizingly slow. Your eyes are on his hands the entire time. Joel lets out a quiet laugh when his hardness forces the zipper to slide down the rest of the way on its own.

With his cock comfortably breathing, both hands are now back on your inner thighs, thumbs still close to the lips of your pussy. With gentle movements, he uses his thumbs to spread apart your lips to get a better look of your sopping hole. Pearly strings connecting from one lip to the other, your pretty labia spreading open like a blooming flower, your swollen clit throbbing for attention. Joel is in awe and falls into a hypnotized state the more he stares at your fully exposed pussy. His fingers are curious as they stroke along your lips, further dampening the light dusting of hair that keeps your mound warm and protected.

Joel eagerly listens to every little noise you make. His movements are torturous, and he knows he's being mean by not giving you what you asked for. The little trembles of your thighs and your weak moans when his fingers purposely avoid your aching clit. His lips part and he can feel drool at the corners. Licking it away, Joel continues to trace your pussy lips with his thumbs, further observing the clenching and unclenching of your non-stop dripping hole.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, fingers catching the slick repeatedly to avoid it wasting onto the bedsheets. In a louder voice, he says in a smug tone, "She jus' won't stop leakin' everywhere."

Joel's mind is reeling the more he inspects your dripping pussy. He can practically taste you on his tongue. A husky, low growl escapes from his chest before he could stop it. He can hear that voice again, feel those claws sinking into his shoulders from behind. The rattling of the cage gets louder and more violent. Joel's eyes shut as fast as his hands left your body as he tries to shut out that dark voice coaxing him to do more damage. He lets out another low growl and shakes his head to himself.

"Daddy?" he hears your sweet whimper fill his ears. "Make it go away."

Joel wants to make it go away. He wants to make everything go away. He needs to or else this feeling won't stop. It'll only get stronger and stronger the more time passes. He knows what has to be done. Then, silence. He opens his eyes, his breathing heavy and labored. The two of you make eye contact, and Joel feels like his heart is about to burst through his chest from how hard and fast it's beating.

Without another word, his middle finger slowly sinks inside your pussy, your tightness sucking him deeper. There's a steady trembling in your thighs as you fight to shut them. Joel's thumb strokes your swollen clit in firm, tight circles. He crooks his finger and lays his free hand across your mound and applies pressure, pinning you between his palm and the mattress.

"What..."

He knows what you're about to ask, but he doesn't let the question slip from your lips before he's fucking his middle finger in and out of your pussy while simultaneously curling his finger against your spongy pleasure spot, all the while pressing down above your mound and rubbing your clit. The wet sloshing of your wetness being spread all around his finger, palm, and your thighs is an embarrassing noise that has you covering your face. For some reason, that pisses Joel off.

"Look at me!" He practically yells and yanks his finger out of your pussy to land a hearty smack directly over your clit. The loud smack has you yelping and squeezing your thighs together as you yanked your hands away from your face to look at Joel with a pained expression.

He shoves your thighs open with brutal force and shoves his middle and ring fingers inside your pussy this time, the tightness increasing from the sudden intrusion. You let out a louder yelp and reach down to grab his arm with both hands, but Joel slaps them away like he would an annoying mosquito. He moves his hand with vigor, fucking his fingers up against that one spot that makes you leak and shake. There's an abundance of wetness that splatters all over your inner thighs and on Joel's palm. His tongue tingles to clean up your sticky mess.

"Goddamn, you're so fuckin' wet, babydoll," he groans filthily, forcing himself to look between your legs. His calloused fingers are shoved so deep inside your pussy, the same ones that have been inside your mother numerous times. Joel is a disgusting man for the satisfaction he feels, knowing that these are the same fingers that have made your mom cum. And now, he's going to make you, his stepdaughter, cum on them in the same way.

Joel presses down onto your pelvis as he keeps the heel of his palm against your clit to apply delicious pressure. He moves his hand up and down rather than forward and back. He can feel his fingers stabbing at the ribbed spongy spot repeatedly, the wet sloshing growing louder the faster he does it. Your moans are garbled and stuttering from his unrelenting pace.

"That's it, babydoll," he grunts quietly, biting down on his bottom lips as he fights to slide in a third finger. If he's going to open up that pussy any further, it's going to be around his cock.

"Stop, stop, stop," you squealed and kicked your legs, trying desperately to pull your body away from his fingers. "I have to pee!"

Joel goes harder and faster, his palm practically slapping against your clit in time with his fingers. The final moan you let out was demonic, of some sort. It didn't sound like it was coming out of a teenage girl, but more from a deranged older woman. Then, a stream of wetness splashes out and splatters all across Joel's forearm and onto the bed sheets. It was fucking never-ending. Your pussy keeps sucking in his fingers, fluttering all around his knuckles. He pulls his fingers out and lands another smack onto your pussy, paying extra attention to your needy clit.

He knows what he has to do. He knows what has to be done.

He rests heavily on top of your body, one forearm planted on the bed beside your head as the other moves between your bodies to lower his jeans and his boxers, not quite shaking them completely off. You're still trying to catch your breath, not exactly understanding what it was that just happened, what it was that you just felt, and why it felt so good. Joel can see it in your eyes, the unspoken questions on the tip of your tongue. He hushes you softly, his lips just a hair away from yours.

"Daddy's goin' to do the tip again, okay? Just the tip, babydoll, I promise," his voice is quiet and soft, his breath tickling your lips like a kiss from the wind.

He doesn't care enough to hear your response or to see if you want to do this or not, but he's already pressing his tip against your sticky hole and pushing inside. Joel's hoarse grunt was muffled as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his big, heavy body sagging further onto yours. His hips slowly move forward and forward and back, fucking his mushroomed tip in and out of your eager hole.

"Oh, my God," your sweet little whimpers whispered in his ear as Joel's hips continued their steady pace. "Too...much." Your voice is clouded with a tinge of pain as he fucks an inch deeper, and then two inches deeper. "Daddy... Daddy, s-slow down!"

Joel's mental state is clouded with depraved lust, pleasure, and ecstasy. His cock sinks deeper. His vision is cloudy, and your voice sounds far away as your pussy sucks him in. He finds himself shutting you up by slapping a big hand over your mouth and pressing some of his weight down onto it. Joel's head lifts up, and he's inches from your face. Your eyes are wide and filled with tears, one hand grabbing onto his shoulder as the other desperately grabs onto his forearm.

"You can take some more," he breathes heavily, his beer-laced breath causing your eyes to flutter shut as you fight to pull away from his face, but Joel clamps his hand down tighter against your mouth, pinning your head down onto his pillow and constricting your movements.

The figurative crate in the recesses of his mind is rattling violently, the voice inside escalating, almost yelling for Joel to let go and inflict pain. This is the necessary action. It's a now or never situation. His skin turns scorching, almost too hot to touch. Every sense is inundated by your presence. Time has run out. The voice is reverberating in Joel's mind, fully taking control.

The chains are gone. The beast has awoken. He is free.

A small scream against Joel's palm has him breaking free from the darkness that has taken over. He's sure he looks feral right now. The widening of your eyes showcases terror. Joel glances down and notices that his cock is now halfway inside your pussy. He doesn't remember sliding his hips deeper into yours. He feels how tight you've gotten, your pussy almost begging for him to not go any further.

"Look at that," he mumbles to himself, pulling his cock two inches out and seeing the tiniest smear of blood around the thick base. "Seems like this little pussy can't all of me, huh?" Joel leans back down, laughing right in your face as he pushes his cock back inside. You're kicking at the back of his thighs with the heels of your feet now, trying to shake your head at him, but he tightens his hand once again. "Don't worry, honey girl," he grunts breathlessly. "Daddy will make it fit."

And with that, Joel reels his hips back and slams the last few inches into your pussy, hearing with glee as your breath gets caught in your throat and your eyes cross and roll into the back of your head. The rhythmic push and pull of your cunt tightening around his cock had his heavy balls throbbing as heat builds stronger in the pit of his stomach.

Joel groans huskily, lowering his heavy body onto your own and slowly moving his hips forward and back, pulling out shallowly and pressing in deep. He makes sure you feel every single inch.

"Feel how deep I am in your tummy, babydoll?" he breathes heavily, his tongue thick in his mouth as his throat suddenly feels dry. Joel can feel his senses slipping as he loses control. He's been waiting for this day for months, and now that he finally has it, he doesn't want to let it go. This whole power dynamic went straight to his head, further inflating his already massive ego. Feeling your virgin cunt being deflowered around his cock was unlike anything he's ever felt.

Your eyes are blurry with thick tears that roll down your cheeks and slide along Joel's fingers. He pulls out again, slowly pushes back in, and repeats the process until the light smearing of blood disappears. He gruffly hushes you and pulls his hand away to shove two thick fingers into your mouth.

"Attagirl," he mumbles to himself as he obscenely pushes down on your tongue to widen your mouth. "Show me what that tongue can do." He slides his fingers forward and back along the pink muscle, mimicking the motions of his hips. He goes as far as to shove his fingers towards your uvula to make you gag. Drool slides down the corners of your lips as strings of spit crudely connect from your tongue to Joel's fingers.

He grins wolfishly. Oh, this is going to be fun. To have you under his body, cunt squeezing and choking his cock, knowing that you will forever live with the moment of your disgusting stepdad taking your virginity. Joel doesn't give a flying fuck on how this is going to affect any future relationships you might have with another man. Right here, right now, you belong to Joel. You know it, he knows it. Within the walls of the bedroom he shares with your mom, you belong to him whether you liked it or not. He's going to take, take, take, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Joel lifts the bottom of his shirt to watch the hypnotizing sight of your swollen pussy repeatedly sucking him in. Virgin blood was now replaced with that sticky slick he grew to love over the last few days. The sopping wet sounds of his hips smacking into yours, your stickiness covering his thick, dark pubic hair and happy trail. Joel looks up to watch your face as he starts to really fuck you. With one hand still trapped between your lips, he uses those fingers to hook behind your bottom teeth and force your head down as his other hand cups the back of your head to grab your hair in a fist. Yanking your head down, you're forced to watch his girthy cock violate your pussy for the first time.

"You fuckin' see that?" Joel pants heavily, his own lips parted to let out a few strained grunts. "See how your little pussy sucks me right in? You see that shit, right?" He sounds too cocky for his own good, but he has every right to be. Your mom was never wet enough or tight enough for him. Having her daughter nearly drowning his dick and choking the life out of it was an accomplishment he'll proudly wear like a medal of honor.

"Daddy," you called out to him, but a garbled, drooly mess came out from his fingers still hooked behind your bottom teeth. "Aaahhgghh!!" The next moan was practically punched out of you once Joel started to put some weight into his next few thrusts.

"Thaaaat's it," he has the audacity to laugh at the sudden reaction he pulled from your trembling body. "She's feelin' it now, ain't she?"

More tears spilled down your cheeks, and Joel's depraved sense of self forced him to swipe his spit covered fingers across the wetness to shove back into your mouth, forcing you to taste your tears on your tongue. The tiny moan you tried to hide wasn't ignored. Joel knows you want to let loose and enjoy what he's giving you, but he remembers what's going to happen if you enjoy it too. He can at least make it hurt just for a little, right?

Pulling his hands completely away from your head and face, Joel places them into the crook of your knees to force them to your chest, further spreading you open and giving him more room to work with. Joel doesn't bother to double check if the positioning is comfortable before he's driving his hips so fast and deep against yours, not even giving you time to breathe between each violent thrust. His head tilts back, his grin widening as he hears your pained yelps, feeling your hand desperately grabbing onto his forearms and scratching your nails down his skin, no doubt leaving deep marks.

"This is what a man's dick feels like," he grunts ferociously like a wild beast. "Quit your fuckin' whining and take this dick. Fuckin' take it. Take it. Take it." Joel's fucking you like a madman now, balls so heavy and filled with cum, smacking against your lightly bruised ass cheeks. Your wetness is splattering all over his jeans and your inner thighs. He glances at your face and sees the expression you wear--eyes rolled back and mouth open to let out ungodly noises.

Fuck, you're really enjoying this. No matter what Joel does, you're going to like whatever he does either way. He's tainted you. He deflowered you and rotted you inside and out. You're no longer that sweet, innocent girl he helped his wife raise. No longer did you have that girl-next-door personality. You were his little experiment, his naive toy to play with when he got bored of your mom and needed something new and young. He's in too deep, literally and figuratively. Your dripping wet pussy tightening around his girth has Joel coming back down to reality.

"Jo-oel! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!" Your little squeals were music to his ears. The noises his cock was forcing out of you were ones you tried to keep hidden, but the pleasure was too intense to keep quiet about. "Right there!! Ri-ight... there!!"

Then, a shrill ringtone fills the room. Joel's back pocket is vibrating, and his hips freeze as if he were being held in a stickup. With his cock still so very deep inside, he glances down and sees a visible bulge in your stomach. He can faintly map out the shape of his mushroomed tip. He pulls out and pushes in again, completely hypnotized with the sight of your belly bulging from his massive cock. You seem transfixed on it as well, your own lips parted in wonder and eyes wide in awe. The phone rings again. Joel hisses a curse under his breath and reaches into his back pocket.

"It's your mom," he gruffly tells you and leans in close to point a finger in your face. "Not a single sound, you hear me?" His heart is pounding as if he ran a marathon. He's nervous, there's no lie there. Thankfully it's not a face call, but still. Joel can't shake the feeling away as he swipes his thumb to answer the call.

"I called you twice. Why didn't you answer the first time?"

Joel rolls his eyes immediately and tries to steady his breathing. Of course, no hi, hello, nothing. She had to go straight into getting on his case about not answering fast enough. His patience was wearing thin. He had half a mind to lay his cards out on the table and tell her he was too busy fucking her daughter to care.

"I was takin' care of a little problem I was havin', honey." Joel lets out a strained moan when your pussy clenches around him accidentally. He shoots you daggers, his glare burning into your skin as you hastily cover your mouth with both hands when he retaliates by shoving his dick so deep into you, it causes the stomach bulge to return.

"Oh, yeah? Well, what if I was dealing with the same problem?"

Her voice dropped into a sultry tone, and Joel's eyes rolled once again before he glanced down between your bodies. He uses his free hand to splay across your mound to rest his thumb against your swollen clit. He traces faint circles around the pearl, relishing the twitch in your thighs and your labored breathing.

"Yeah? You wanna do it together while I still have time?" Joel's hips start fucking into you again, slow and deep, just how you like it. He almost sounds bored when he talks to your mom, but his eyes are wild and filled with want as he stares at your wanton expressions.

"I miss your dick, Joely. Ugh. I need it."

Her moans turned Joel off, especially with that stupid fucking nickname she always called him. The sound of your shaky breathing and warm, wet, tight cunt soaking him brought him back to the present. He can block out your mom's voice and focus on what he's providing you. With one hand keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his other hand bats your hands away from your mouth and instead possessively holds onto your throat as he starts fucking you with rhythm.

"You jus' like this dick too much, don't you? Can't fuckin' live without it," he's making eye contact with you as he talks to your mom. He makes sure that you know he's talking directly to you. With his big hand firmly holding onto your throat, he can feel your skin becoming warmer as the eye contact causes you to fluster.

You nod as best as you can, his hand tightening around your throat to cut off any sounds you were about to make within a few seconds. The steady thwack of his hips against yours could be mistaken for his fist around his own cock to your mom. Joel makes sure to not sound suspicious in the way he's talking. Though he's speaking more to you, he doesn't want to use any of the words reserved for you to be used on your mom. Having her figure out what's been going for the week that she's been gone is not what Joel needs right now. What he needs is to fuck you stupid, doesn't matter if your mom is cockblocking him in the process.

"That's right, honey," he mumbles into the receiver, but loud enough for you to still catch on to his slurred words. He tosses you a wink, pressing his fingers deeper into your throat as he fucks you faster. "Takin' this fuckin' dick so good, huh? Only thing you're good for is takin' this fuckin' dick." He growls the last two words, your moans garbled and incoherent and strained from the pressure around your throat.

Joel takes the hint to release your throat and allow you to get a few gulps of air once he realized you were on the verge of passing out. He shoves his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, forcing you to lick along his gold wedding band. Joel puts the phone on speaker and lays it beside your head on the pillow. He puts a finger to his lips and carefully maneuvers your legs onto his shoulders. There's really nothing like half-assed phone sex with his unassuming wife while he fucks her teenage daughter on the other line.

How stupid of both of them, being hassled by the same man for entirely different reasons. Joel is a disgusting, sick man. But God, if it doesn't make his dick rock hard right now. He knows he can't be stopped, and that's the fun part of all of this. No matter how hard anybody tries, Joel is going to keep doing this over, and over, and over again.

"I can't wait for you to fuck me again, baby. Ugh! I need it."

Joel looks deep into your eyes as he grinds nice and slow into your leaking cunt, your swollen clit crushed against his pubic hair with his balls pressed firmly between your ass cheeks. In a husky voice, all while maintaining eye contact, he tells your mom into the phone, "I'll fuck you nice and good, honey. I'll fuck you so good, I'll ruin every other man for you."

And with that, he gives you a kiss that was all tongue, teeth, and spit, all the while your mom's exaggerated moans were ignored. She's talking, but neither of you are paying attention. Joel is so focused on devouring your entire mouth with his that he doesn't register your mom calling his name until you're frantically tapping his arm to get his attention back onto the phone.

"I said, do you miss my pussy, Joely?"

"You know I do, honey," he answers almost robotically as he refocuses his attention back on kissing you sloppily. He pulls away from a brief moment to roll his hips deep into yours, swallowing down your squeaky moans with his lips. Your mom is talking again, but Joel doesn't bother to respond. Instead, he lifts himself onto his hands and starts fucking you vigorously.

Hips smacking into hips and wet, sloppy noises fill the room. You're trying your hardest to contain your moans and not cum so suddenly, Joel can see and feel that. He's grunting heavily, his entire lower half smeared and covered in your sticky slick. For such a virgin, you sure do get wetter than the local neighborhood whore that Joel has numerously encountered many years back. There's a saying that goes: Virgin pussy is the best pussy, any man will agree. And Joel stands by that statement as he feels it from his own stepdaughter. It's an ego boost to feel something so warm and tight get so incredibly wet for him, and only him.

"Fuuuuuck, I can hear how wet this pussy is for me," Joel says loud enough for your mom to hear, though he directs it towards you. The pinch of your eyebrows and the rolling back of your eyes tells him more than what you can say aloud.

"Fuck, Joely, I'm gonna cum!"

Joel is fucking into you harder than you can comprehend what's happening. He smacks a hand over your mouth to muffle your little punched out moans. He grunts and growls like an animal, sweat trickling down his spine, further staining his shirt. His heart races at the speed of a cheetah. He feels like the most powerful man as he watches you start to fall apart under him.

"Cum for me," he breathes out, the warmth in his gut getting stronger as he rubs your clit with a shaky thumb. "Fuckin' cum all over my dick like a good fuckin' whore, huh? Are you Daddy's whore? Tell me... aagghhh!!... Tell me you're Daddy's fuckin' bitch."

"Uuhhh, Joel?"

He reaches over to hang up and toss his phone onto the floor with a clatter before leaning completely onto your body, folding you into a pretzel and fucking you with violence. You let out a piercing wail as he fucks the air out of you. Your nails pinch his skin, no doubt drawing blood. Joel's grunting in your face, warming your already heated skin with his beer breath. Tears roll down your temples as you hold onto him for dear life.

"I-I... hhnnggh..." You can hardly speak, let alone open your eyes to tell him exactly what you want to say. "Daddy... I-I... I lo-ove you!"

Joel is taken aback, letting out a surprised moan when your cunt rhythmically contracts around his cock as you cum, and you keep cumming. It doesn't fucking stop. Your pussy is so wound tight around him that Joel couldn't pull out if he wanted to. Squeaky little moans and shaky cries, you hold onto him tighter as your pussy relaxes.

His cock still lodged inside your swollen cunt, Joel observes you in silence. Your words are still echoing in his ears. His cock is nearly soft as it rests comfortably within your ribbed, fleshy walls. Love. Love. Love. You love him. You love him. And it has to be in the same way girlfriends love their boyfriends and wives love their husbands, which isn't the relationship the two of you have.

Joel pulls out before he realizes what exactly he's doing. He hastily tucks himself back into his ruined boxers and zips up his equally ruined jeans. He tossed you your clothes without giving you a single glance.

"Clean yourself up and get dressed. We need to talk," he gruffly says and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him for a dramatic effect.

He paces in the hallway, both hands running through his hair frantically as he tries to figure out what the fuck just happened. That dark, evil voice in the back of his mind returns. It's creeping in slowly, and soon, it overcomes him, drowning him in its darkness.

Look at what you did, Joel. Look at what happened. Love is involved, the one thing you were afraid of happening. Make it hurt. Cause more pain. Do something, NOW.

He's sitting on the couch by the time you come down the stairs, a subtle limp in your step from the rough fucking he gave you just minutes prior. Your clothes are disheveled, and your shirt is on backwards. You're twiddling your fingers and looking down at the ground like a guilty kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Joel's elbows are pressed into his knees with his hands cupped over his mouth in thought. His mind is racing, his thoughts screaming and hollering. For the first time in a long time, he doesn't know what to do.

"Daddy?"

Your gentle voice fills his ears, and he has to force himself to shut his eyes to avoid looking in your direction. He feels the warmth of your presence sitting beside him on the couch. Fuck, he can even smell the thick scent of your pussy, and he wonders if you even cleaned yourself up like he done told you to do. There's a tick in his jaw the more silent he stays. He feels like the first word he utters is going to make him explode.

"Joel?" you whisper meekly, tenderly grabbing onto his tense bicep and flinching when he suddenly jumps up to his feet.

Joel's arm burns from your touch. He doesn't know what to do with himself. He paces back and forth like a tweaker at a gas station, itching to get their hands on some drugs or alcohol. Joel knows that he's royally fucked. He never meant for you to get feelings for him. He thought he was doing the opposite with the way he's been acting with you.

"You stupid fuckin' girl," he barks out a cruel laugh and wipes a hand down his mouth as he shoots around to stare at you with a new fire in his furious eyes. "You don't know what love is, you hear me? You do not know what love is and you sure as hell ain't goin' to get it from me."

He can see his words shoot at you like bullets. The sag in your shoulders and the crestfallen expression you wear on your face was a clear indicator that what he said truly hurt you.

"Excuse me?" your question comes out soft and broken. "You... You don't love me?"

Make it hurt. Ruin it. MAKE IT HURT, JOEL.

"No, I don't," he speaks lowly. "You're real fuckin' dumb to think otherwise, sweetheart. You think all the things I've done to you were from a place of love? Huh? What, you think I really cared about those little feelings you had? News flash, you're just a kid. I ain't your boyfriend, and I sure as hell ain't gonna be a husband for you. I mean, you really think another man will want you after I've already had my fun with your body, hm?"

Joel knew it was a low blow, but he needed to go in for the kill. The way you're looking at him drastically changed into a look of pure hatred and venom. Hot tears spill down your cheeks as he watches you take in his harsh wordss

"I hate you," you wept quietly. "I-I hate you, Joel Miller. You... You bad, bad man."

He leans over with his hands planted on his knees as he slouches to your height. He gives you a mocking pout. "No, sweetheart, you don't hate me. If you hated me, you wouldn't have let me slide my dick inside that pussy of yours and take what was meant to be for a boy your age. Ain't that the truth, hm? No, instead, you let your ol' stepdaddy work his way into your empty little head and make you think that you're really worth somethin'."

He can see in that moment your heart breaking. He stands up straight again, looking down at you with disdain and shakes his head, tsking as he does so. You don't bother to look at him as he fixes your hair over your shoulder. He smiles a little at the flinch you give. When he roughly grabs your jaw in his hand and yanks your head up to look at him, he leans in real close again.

"I still own this pussy whether you like it or not."

And with that, Joel Miller has completely ruined your heart.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel miller x fem!reader #dark!joel miller fanfic #stepdad!joel miller #stepdad!joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #dark!joel miller fic

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erwinsvow · 6 months ago

Note

what if… rafe ever hit shy reader from built up anger like more of an accident? we lowk need some rafe and shy reader angst😢

this kind of slayed me.. i feel like disclosure i do not condone abuse of any sort i just think shy reader would like getting slapped around and being really roughhoused..

but if rafe reallyyy got mad about it, it might be angsty. like if she really messed up and was apologizing a ton if he actually was mad at her her heart would stop. warning rafe is rlly mean in this

being a little whiney, a little too needy and maybe excessively touchy came easily to you as rafe's girlfriend. he was always coaxing you into being more comfortable with him, and you think you'd finally reached that point.

some of your shyer tendencies seemed to have finally abandoned you when it was just the two of you. and just like you had guessed, a smaller, more possessive side of you had recently emerged from the cocoon—wanting all of rafe's attention, all the time.

it wasn't good, maybe a small part of you knew that, but it was easy to play into it, and you liked how you felt these days, more comfortable in your skin and around rafe than you had been even just a month ago.

like today. you had been a little needy all day, not wanting rafe to leave when he said he needed to go to barry's for picking something up.

"ple-ease rafe," you said it a little singsongy, serious but not that serious. "don't go. i want you to stay." it was more just wanting to hang out with him than anything else—when he left, he was usually gone for ages, and things weren't that fun without him.

"i'll be back, kid. jus' stay here, got it?"

"but you said you would-"

"kid." the way he says it, you should have realized he wasn't in the mood for you to be behaving like this.

"yesterday you said you were free all day. and i get bored-"

"yesterday i didn't know i was doin' this shit. just, please. sit tight. i'll be back."

rafe goes, and though a part of you knows you shouldn't, you blow up his phone throughout the day. really, you're not even that bored—showering and getting ready for the day and then curling up with your book after you make rafe's bed, but you played a little too far into it.

when he comes back, you should have realized something was off—but you let everything else cloud your judgement. the way rafe is never mean to you (despite the stories you had heard), how he always reassures you that he's not mad and that you didn't do anything wrong. you were led to a false belief that nothing you could do would change how rafe acts towards you.

rafe comes to sit on the bed near your feet, and you lower your book to look at him, but don't say anything. when he turns to look at you, you bring the book back up so it looks like you weren't peeking.

"c'mon. y'mad now?"

"no."

"kid, i don't have time for this-"

"you didn't answer any of my texts! or calls. and i've just been waiting here all day-" you don't know what you want—attention, quality time, an apology. you just want something other than what you're getting.

"i told you i'd be back. had shit to take care of-"

"well, i just-"

"why're you actin' like this? huh?"

you think rafe's gonna ask you the things he always does—what's wrong? did someone say something? do i need go have a talk with 'em?

but he doesn't this time.

"spoiled your ass too much and now you wanna talk back? is that it?" you're so taken aback, you think all the air has left your lungs. did rafe really think that? he stands up, so you do too, facing rafe while he paces.

"no, i just-" you're being defensive, like always. you feel like crying—you thought rafe knew you better than that, but it's also not his fault. maybe you were acting too spoiled after all, and maybe despite what he always says, he preferred you how you were when you first started dating him.

"you think m'goin out there to paint nails and gossip with barry? we had shit to do. real shit, so i can take care of you. i thought you understood that."

when you start crying, you think rafe will stop—he always does, stopping to apologize and make sure you're okay.

"tears. great. i'm tryna explain this to you. are you gonna cry everytime i get serious? huh?" it comes out a little more like a bark than a sentence—now you're scared.

"i-i'm sorry," you get out, though it's strangled in a sob and sounds more like a whisper. you don't think he heard you, but your feelings are so hurt—the rush from thinking rafe would be happy to be back home with you crashing and burning quickly, the pit in your stomach that doesn't blame him—but rather blames yourself for your behavior.

you had gotten too comfortable, too pampered, thinking that acting like this was okay—briefly you think it's not rafe's fault at all for getting mad, that it's your own fault for this happening.

you think it's best if you leave, dejectedly heading towards the door, but the second he catches you trying to walk away, he rushes over, pushing you against the door before you can even open it. your back thuds against the frame.

"rafe, you're hurting me-" you cry out, but he seems to be lost in his own anger. "please-"

"didn't say you can leave. what the hell are you doin'? you tryin' to make me mad? huh?"

"rafe, m'sorry, i-"

"actin' like this 'cause you wanna get slapped around? is that it? y'like that too much, don't you? you want me to slap you around now?"

your heart feels like it's just stopped beating. the very idea that rafe would bring up something you had just gotten comfortable with liking, only recently convinced yourself—with his help—that it wasn't wrong or dirty to like those kinds of things with him—slapping and spanking and a whole host of other things you had never even talked about, much less actually done, with anyone other than rafe, in this situation, made fat tears slip down your cheeks.

your boyfriend didn't seem like himself right now. and you were so distraught, if you were a little more clear-headed you might realize his bloodshot, dilated eyes and shaky hands. your arm hurts from where he's holding you tightly.

"rafe, please-" you get out through tears, and he lets you go a little. you slide out of his grip and stay against the door, still crying. before you can even think about it, your cheek is stinging.

he does slap you—not in the light, playful way he does when it's just the two of you somewhere or in the slightly rougher manner reserved for bed—this one is harder, everything hurting.

after it happens, you look up at rafe through glassy eyes. your fingers go to your cheek, pressing down where it was painful, like it would help it go away. but you knew deep down nothing could ever erase this memory.

you look up at rafe and he looks down at you. when you try to turn to open the door, he presses down and slams it shut before you can get out.

#this was hard to write :(#but i hope i did your prompt justice #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader #tw abuse #tw dv

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joelmillerisapunk · 10 months ago

Text

Bad Habits

Soft daddy!Joel x f!Reader

masterlist ♡ soft daddy masterlist

wordcount: 1,910

summary: In a night of passion and confusion, an unexpected proposition leaves you questioning your desires and your future.

warnings: 18+, soft daddy!Joel, implied age gap, unprotected p in v

notes: I hope you enjoy the ending. 🤭 Maybe this will be its own au. Let me know what you think. A massive thank you to @joelslegalwhre for beta reading �� and @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

As the night goes on, you find yourself getting lost in the music and the dance floor, moving your body to the beat and letting go of all your worries and fears. The guy you're dancing with is cute, and he seems to be into you, but something feels off. You can't shake off the feeling that you shouldn't be here tonight.

Just as you're about to leave the dance floor and go to the bathroom, you see the older man you've been seeing on and off. Joel doesn't call your name as he walks in, but you lock eyes, and he gives you a small smile before heading to the bar. You feel a pang of guilt and confusion wash over you - why is he here, and why does he seem so calm?

You make your way over to the bar and join him, accepting the drink he's already bought for you. He chuckles, "What are you doin' in a place like this, darlin?"

You raise an eyebrow at him. "I could ask you the same thing."

He grins and takes a sip of his drink. "I have my reasons. But a smart, pretty thing like you doesn't belong here. Come home with me, baby. Please." Joel's eyes twinkle with emotion as he leans in closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently graze your inner thigh. You tense up at his touch, completely unsure of where your head is at.

"Hey now, don't be like that," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "Come on, let daddy take you home," he whispers as his lips brush against your earlobe. "Let me take care of you. You don't have to be alone tonight.”

You hesitate for a moment, torn between your desire to be with Joel and your fear of losing your independence and freedom. But ultimately, you decide to go with him. You can't deny the pull you feel towards him, the sense of safety and security he offers you. And the way he's looking at you sure doesn't help, the way his voice softens when he calls you "baby" makes you feel safe and loved.

"Okay," you say softly. "I'll come with you.”

Joel's grin widens as he hears your response, and he stands up, taking your hand in his. "That's my girl," he says, leading you out of the bar. As you're walking out, Joel spots out the guy you were dancing with, and he chuckles softly. "Looks like you've got someone after you, darlin," he says, nodding in the guy's direction.

You look over and see the guy watching you with a disappointed expression on his face. You feel a pang of guilt, but before you can think too much, you're pulled away, Joel's grip on your hand tightens, and he leads you out of the bar. You can feel the excitement building up inside of you as you realize that you're about to spend the night with him. You can't believe it - just a few minutes ago, you were dancing with some random guy, feeling unsure and guilty about your attraction to Joel. But now, you're walking out of the bar with him, and you can't wait to see what the night has in store for you.

As you get into Joel's car, you can feel the tension between the two of you. You're both aware of the sexual tension that's been building, and you know that it's only a matter of time before it explodes. You glance over at him, watching as he navigates the winding roads that lead to his place. His eyes are focused on the road, but you can see the hunger and desire in them. You bite your lower lip, feeling a shiver run down your spine as you imagine what's about to happen.

When you finally arrive, you can hardly contain your excitement. You follow him inside, your heart racing as he leads you up the grand staircase and into his bedroom. The room is dimly lit, with only a few candles flickering in the corners. You can see the outline of his large oversized bed in the center of the oversized room, and you feel your heart start to race even faster.

Joel turns to face you, his eyes dark with desire. "I've been waiting for this all night, baby," he says, his voice low. He reaches out to touch your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. You lean into his touch, feeling a sense of safety and warmth spread through your body. Joel pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you as he kisses you deeply. You can feel the heat building, and you know that you're about to cross a line that you won't be able to come back from. But you don't care - you want this, you want Joel, and you're ready to give yourself to him completely.

As Joel starts to undress you, you can't help but feel a bit guilty. You know that you shouldn't be doing this - you know that you're risking your independence and freedom by giving yourself to him - a much older man. But the way he's looking at you, the way his hands feel on your body, the way his lips brush against your skin...it's all too much to resist.

And before you know it, Joel has you naked on his bed. He quickly rids himself of his clothes and gets to work, making you feel like you're in some acid induced love making trip. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment almost immediately. You're completely caught up in the pleasure that he's giving you.

Joel's thrusts are deep and powerful, filling you up completely. You can feel every inch of him, and it's driving you wild. His hands are on your hips, holding you in place as he takes control. You feel completely powerless in his grasp, and you love it.

"Mmm, yes, Joel," you moan, as he continues to thrust into you.

"You like that?"" He growls.

"Yes, daddy," you gasp, your hips buck against his.

Joel's thrusts get faster and harder, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Good girl," Joel murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "You like it when I take charge, don't you?"

"Yes," you barely muster.

"That's my good girl." You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge with every word he speaks. "You like that, don't you, darlin'? You like it when I fuck you like a dirty girl."

You moan, your voice breathy and filled with desire. "I love it.”

"I'm gonna make you come so hard." Joel says, his thrusts getting faster and harder. "Come on baby, say my name. Let me know who's making you feel so good."

"Daddy," you moan out, your voice breathy. "Oh god, I'm so close," you gasp, your fingers digging into the sheets. "I'm gonna come."

"That's right," Joel growls, his hips slapping against yours. "Come for me, baby. Come for daddy."

But then, in the middle of the most intense moment, Joel says something that pulls you out of your pleasure-induced haze. "I want you to travel with me this summer," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

You pull away, your heart racing as you try to process what he's just said. "What did you say?" you ask, your voice trembling as you try to catch your breath.

Joel grabs your face in his large hands. His eyes are filled with love and desire. "I want you to travel with me this summer, darlin'," he repeats, his voice softer this time. "I know you have the time off school, and I just want to spend every moment with you, exploring new places and making new memories. I want to be exclusive, just for the summer. And if after that you wanna leave and have your freedom, you can."

You stare at him, your heart racing as you try to process what he's just said. You never expected him to say something like this - you never expected him to want something more than just a casual fling, and you never expected him to ruin your orgasm with this. "I'll think about it," you finally say, your voice soft and unsure. You're overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events, and you need some time to process everything.

Joel nods, understanding your hesitation. He pulls you close, holding you in his arms as he whispers soothing words in your ear. "It's okay, darlin'," he says. "I know this is a big decision, and I'm not trying to rush you. I just want you to know how much I care about you, and how much I want to be with you." You lean into his embrace, feeling his warmth. You can feel yourself getting lost in his touch, and for a moment, you forget all about your worries and fears.

Joel's hand starts to wander, and soon he's touching your clit again. You gasp as pleasure shoots through your body. "I just want to make you feel good," he whispers. "Makin’ you feel good makes me feel good."

You moan as he continues to touch you, his fingers working magic on your clit. You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and you know that it won't be long before you come apart in his arms.

"Joel," you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Oh god, Joel, please, I can't -"

“Yes you can. Come for me, baby. I gotcha, s'okay.”

And with that, you finally let go. You scream Joel's name as you come apart in his arms, your body trembling with the eb and flow of pleasure. He holds you close, whispering soothing words in your ear as you ride out your orgasm. When it's over, you collapse against Joel's chest, feeling completely and utterly spent.

“I'll wait for your answer, baby, take your time.” Joel whispers as his lips brush against your forehead.

You look up at him, feeling a sense of happiness and contentment spread through your body. You know that this is a big decision - a decision that could change your life forever. But as you look into Joel's eyes, you can't help but feel like this is where you belong - with him, by his side, traveling, at least for the summer.

"I'll travel with you this summer. I'll be your good girl, and I'll let you take care of me." You whisper, your voice filled with emotion.

Joel grins. "That's my girl."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader

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lila-went-missing · 10 months ago

Text

Because of Her

Small Clarisse drabble I made while watching Are Your Afraid of the Dark? season 3 cause I'll watch anything if Diors in it. It's not that great but I have a fic coming that's slightly similar to this but more frenimies to lovers if that makes sense.

Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demeter!Reader

Clarisse La Rue had a reputation to uphold. She never lost a fight. She was never soft, never kind. Always ruthless, cold, and calculating. She was a daughter of Ares if nothing else, that was for certain.

But that all came crashing down the day she met you. The moment her eyes met yours, she knew she was fucked. Your sweet, caring gaze had her locked in. In an instance she was wrapped around your finger.

She would never admit it, but everyone knew she was whipped. Except you, the one person that mattered.

Over the last four years of you being at camp, you two had become extremely close. The fact that you hadn't realized how infatuated your best friend was with you, baffled everyone you knew. You saw the way she stared at you, but that was normal for best friends, right?

She fell more and more in love with you every day. That's what brought her to the strawberry fields. You were knelt next to one of the bushes, picking the ripe berries and tossing them into your basket. Her footsteps broke you out of your trance as she crouched next to you.

"What'cha doin', pretty girl?" A smirk graces her lips as she looks at you.

"Pickin' strawberries. Where've you been, Clar?" You giggle as you look up from the bush. She swears it's the most melodic thing she's ever heard.

"Training a couple of the new kids, you know how long it can take. How about, I make it up to you? How does that sound?"

"Really? How?"

She doesn't answer, she just grabs your hand and pulls you up to your feet, dragging you away from the fields and into the woods. You laugh as you're led through the trees. After a while she slows, walking side by side with you. Her hand never left yours, pulling you closer to her.

"Where are we going?" You ask, smiling up at her.

"You'll see, we're almost there."

Soon, you came upon a clearing in the woods. There was a blanket laid out with a basket on it, surrounded by flowers.

"It's the anniversary of the day you arrived at camp. I figured we should celebrate." She whispers in your ear, coming behind you with a hand resting on your arm.

"Clar!" You turn to face her, wrapping your arms around her neck. "Thank you!" Her arms come around your waist, pulling you into her. She lifts you up off your feet, carrying you over to the blanket.

“Of course, pretty girl.” Your placed back onto your feet, sitting with her on the ground.

“This had to take you ages!” You marvel as everything she’s brought, lemonade, all of your favorite fruit, minis your favorite kinds of sandwiches.

“It was worth it for you.” Your eyes meet, her hand comes to your cheek, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s all worth it for you.”

The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare at her. Looking in her eyes feels like swimming in pools of honey, getting lost in the sweetness she only presents to you. The care only you are worthy of. Suddenly her lips are on yours, it takes you a minute to realize and by the time you do she’s pulled back.

“I- I’m sorry..fuck, I don’t know-” She’s cut off by your lips against hers. It’s passionate and soft, yet hot and fiery. The perfect combination of both of you. Her hands land on your cheeks and pull you furth into her. You could get lost in the way her lips feel, the taste of her cherry chapstick on your tongue.

“Clar..” You’re both breathing heavily when you pull away.

“I should’ve done that way sooner.” She admits. You nod in agreement.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think you liked me like that. Thought you’d hit me and run away.”

“I could never run from you. Even if I wanted to, I think I’m pretty stuck with you.” You smile, your hand moving up to her neck.

“Yeah, you are.” She smiles back, kissing your cheek

“Well, we better not let this food go to waste..” You laugh softly, pulling back. She rests on her hands.” Yeah, this took me hours, you better eat it.”

Another laugh escapes your throat as you pop a piece of fruit in your mouth. “I thought you said I was worth it. Here I was thinking I was special.” Her foot nudges yours. “

“You know you are.”

The food is divine, and you have more fun than you have in a very long time. The flowers around you seem to bloom more, color saturating more, reflecting on your mood. The breeze is warmer. The trees sprout more leaves. And it’s all because of her.

#percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn #x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #percy jackson #clarisse pjo #percy jackson disney+#percy series #demeter #best friends to lovers #pjo series #pjo tv show

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4lydsmarie · 5 months ago

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radio - dallas winston

“now my life is sweet like cinnamon” - radio, lana del rey

dallas winston x newgirl!reader note: reader and dallas are underage drinking, reader gets a little tipsy. dallas realizes he has a lover boy side after all..just fluff basically? a/n: this takes place in the 60s! 60s detroit has my heart of course i had to involve it just a bit. 💋

your parents had decided to move you to tulsa, against your will of course, in hopes of living a “calm small town life” in their words. you thought it was just unnecessary. you were happy back home in detroit, enjoying the motor city and it’s homey feel. moving all the way to oklahoma to live in some small town felt idiotic. but, what could you do? you’d already settled into your new “home” and it’s not like your words could convince your parents anyways.

the cool summer breeze had sent you wandering into buck merrill’s roadhouse. you’d heard from a couple of people in your neighborhood that it was a place most people went to for drinks, fights, and just to be lonely at. while it didn’t sound appealing, the drinks part settled well into your head. drinks were never your thing, but anything would make you feel better than being at home, the moving and adjusting had been all too much for you.

arriving at buck’s, many faces looked your way. some curious, some flirtatious, some disgusted. you flashed an awkward smile as you sat down and ordered a drink for yourself.

across the bar sat dallas winston. dallas winston was known for his cold demeanor and player antics. ask anyone and they’d tell you, he had no care in the world for anyone. not even himself.

he’d noticed you just as everyone else had. new girl for sure, but something else about you interested him. he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

lost in his thought, he hadn’t realized buck was right behind him.

“someone’s caught your eye, huh dally?” buck teased. “nah man, just lookin. hey, you got a light?” dallas avoided buck’s teasing as much as he could. but buck was right, you had caught his eye.

buck handed dallas a cigarette as dallas lit it and held it to his lips, still eyeing you closely.

you felt someone’s eyes on you, but to be honest who’s wasn’t? everyone felt eager to know who you are. it wasn’t often someone decided to settle their lives in tulsa. if anything it was more common for people to pack up and leave tulsa for good. everyone was curious to know you.

something told you to turn your head to the corner..maybe it was intuition, maybe it was just your knowledge. but you decided to do what your gut told you.

that’s when you noticed him.

just by looking at him you could tell the kind of person he was. stuck up, unserious, to himself. he was mysterious in a way, and for some reason that drew you to him. it made you wanna know more about him.

so being the newcomer yourself, you decided to approach him. he didn’t look any older than you..mature in face and body language but you could still tell he was your age.

as you made your way towards him you noticed him shuffle in his seat, sitting up and clearing his throat a bit. “hey” you said blankly. “hey, doll. whatsa pretty girl like you doin in this dump, huh?” the newfound nickname put a light blush on your face. luckily, neon signs filled the house, perfectly hiding in the tint. “no choice but to move here, parents forced me..” you responded, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“mm, you a soc or a grease?” dallas responded, leaning back a bit. “huh? what’s that?” your face twisted in confusion, causing dallas to let out a laugh before responding. “sorry, forgot your new doll. soc’s are the west side kids. y’know the ones that got it made. their stupid fancy cars and pathetic polo shirts. just jerks. greasers are guys like me. low-life, less money, don’t got it all like the rest do.” you didn’t know what answer to give. you sure weren’t rich and popular, yet you weren’t poor and a “low life” like he’d described.

“neither id say. i don’t live in the rich neighborhood, but not the low-life neighborhood you describe either. im just normal..” you replied. dallas nodded knowingly before changing the subject. “didn’t catch a name for ya, doll.” his new york accent strung with every word. “yn..yours?” dallas sat up in his seat, “dallas. dallas winston. the fuzz probably know my name more than anyone. call me dally.” you smiled. you’d remember that name. hell, you’d remember everything about him. from his mysterious demeanor to his thick new york accent.

every word, every movement he made, had you wanting to know more and more about him. “and why do cops know you, dally?” he smiled at you using his nickname before he spoke. “cause i get into trouble y’know? eh at this point whenever something happens im the first the fuzz run to. jerks..” dallas muttered the last word. he’d seemed like the kind of guy who had stories to tell for days, maybe weeks.

“enough about me doll, i wanna know about you now.” dallas smirked. “nothin much to know..” you responded hesitantly. “don’t get all shy with me doll, just wanna get to know you” dallas could see right through you, and how nervous you’d suddenly gotten. “maybe that’s enough talk..let’s drink? you a drinker?” dallas changed the subject to your comfort, something he’d never do for anyone else unbeknownst to you. there was something about you that still pulled dallas in..made him wanna know you from head to toe, whatever that meant.

“no i’m not really a drinker but anything feels good at the moment” you laughed. dallas took this as a sign to order whatever sounded good. vodka, whiskey, even beer. just the usual, just to occupy you. you took whatever he’d given you, downing it the minute you got it and making a face of disgust. dallas laughed at the sight. “cute..” he mumbled. then, dallas had realized it. he was falling for a girl he’d barely known, his laid back “no fucks in the world” demeanor was being crushed by a new town girl.

hours had passed, you were now drunk and tired, words seemingly slurring before you could even form a sentence. “let’s get ya home, doll” dallas said, helping you to stand and walking you out of buck’s. before he’d left, he’d asked if anyone knew where you lived. since the town wasn’t too big and you were new, it was easy for him to figure that out from anyone there.

once dallas got you home to your doorstep you were a tad bit sobered up, just enough to carry your own weight.

“hey uh, y’know if you ever want company you can just uh, call me or somethin.. never really busy and if i don’t answer it’s cause i got in with the fuzz.” dallas said, scratching his head. you smiled at the boys pathetic yet cute words. he’d wanted your company without asking for it. “yeah sure, why not? don’t get yourself into too much trouble now, i wanna see you more dally.”

and somehow to dallas, the nickname had squeezed his heart yet again. everyone called him dally, why was it different when you said it? you’d waved goodbye to dallas and went into your house, seemingly the call for dallas to make his way back to buck’s. the whole way back, his mind was stuck on you.

you’d made his life a little more interesting, a little sweeter, a little more desireable to live in just one night. you’d made his life a little “sweet, like cinnamon”.

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evolnoomym · 3 months ago

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I’ll Make You Love Me💋

Bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: In Joel’s eyes you are an unpleasant person. Yet he has to pretend as if he would not want to get rid of you for Sarah’s sake, she loves you so much you are her best friend. Well Joel also feels terrible for the rather unethical thoughts he has of you.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni !!!!!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: no y/n, introducing “Lucky”, female oc character, Sarah is 18, Lucky is 21, Joel’s age is not mentioned but he’s at least double Lucky’s age, degradation, humiliation, Dark, Joel is mean, he calls you Bitch/Slut/Junkie, spanking, dub-con, Daddy Kink, Manspreading hehe 😉, pervy!Joel, tears, Joel enjoys her tears, manhandling, hair pulling, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, a tiny fluffy moment, alludes to BJ, Joel can also be nice,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @toxicanonymity ‘s manspreading olympics. ��️‍🔥

Shoutout to @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics for the dividers ❤️

Big thank you to @jennaispunk and @joelmillerisapunk for beta reading ❤️‍🔥🌙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 💋

Songs I listened to while writing:

What You Do by James Gillespie

Bad Girls by M.I.A

Maneater by Nelly Furtado

Salvatore by Lana Del Rey

Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey

Waiting Game by BANKS

Into It by Chase Atlantic

You should feel bad for thinking of him in such a peculiar way. You should be ashamed for even considering him an option. He is totally off limits considering he’s much older, a busy mature man and most importantly Sarah’s Dad. Sarah the sweet girl that has been your Bestfriend for over 2 years.

It excited you in the beginning how much Joel hated your presence in his daughter’s life. He didn’t approve of this friendship ever since Sarah at 16 years old first brought you, her 19 year old friend, over for the first time.

In front of Sarah he tried his hardest to appear polite but you could see right through his facade from the beginning. And one evening when Sarah was already fast asleep you gave Joel a piece of your mind in the kitchen.

“Mister Miller let’s stop these silly games we both know what’s going on…you don’t like me and I couldn’t fucking care less.” You scoff and get off the counter, slowly drawing closer to Joel “You hate me so much but Sarah loves me soooooo much and imagine how upset she’d be to know that her Daddy doesn’t want her to be happy. Wouldn’t that be a shame,huh?” You question with an enticing head tilt.

Now you’re right in front of him, toe to toe with big bad imposing Joel Miller. You can feel the pulling in your lower belly from being so close and most importantly smelling his manly musky scent. You remind yourself that you gotta stay focused if you want to win this game.

You get even closer until your able to place your hands on his warm broad chest sliding them slightly upwards his shoulders. “What the hell r ya doin?” Joel hisses.

You lean up to whisper in his ear “Nothing, just letting you know that I eat guys like you for breakfast, I chew you up and spit you out. You’re not a threat to me, old man.” You pull back and give him a sinister sickly smile.

The wickedness in your tone causes goosebumps to prickle on his flesh.

You feed off of seeing him scared. You enjoy knowing what kinda effect you have on this usually so collected man.

“Goodnight Mister Miller, better start sleeping with one eye open from now on.” You giggle while skipping up the stairs.

That was the start of it all.

Now 2 years later with Sarah just having turned 18, Joel realizes that you two are gonna keep him on his toes even more than already.

The 18th birthday celebration was already a disaster, what Joel assumed would be a relaxed family gathering turned into you crashing the party and taking Sarah out, of course Sarah was excited so how could Joel say no.

Well when you two didn’t return at 12 pm like promised he admittedly got worried, but he wanted to trust Sarah so he tried to stay calm.

At 3 am he hears the screeching tires from some show off guys car and loud drunkish giggling. The princesses have officially arrived back home from their trip, almost 4 hours too late.

When Joel opens the front door he sees you and Sarah practically half draped over your shoulder stubbling up the starirs in sloppy drunk steps. You two are giggling and mumbling at each other in a language Joel does not understand, it certainly can’t be English.

You immediately glock his disgruntled face, the alcohol cursing through your system emboldens you so you haphazardly shove him out of the way. You sigh loudly and obviously annoyed at his antics all while herding Sarah up the stairs.

Joel cannot believe that after dragging Sarah off, taking her to god knows where, letting her drink and god forbid smoke… you still have the audacity to behave so entitled.

You put Sarah in danger and don’t feel an ounce of remorse. Joel hates your guts, in his eyes you are an entitled little brat that desperately needs to be put in her place.

Even though Joel hates you, he at the same time cannot keep his head clear of dirty images of your young and tight body. He thinks about the pool day where you showed up in the tiniest bikini he could think of.

Prancing around all while he had to resist the urge to just tear it off. You knew he was looking and he knew that you enjoyed his eyes flitting all over your enticing figure.

The both of you were tethering on a dangerous line, that could cause big trouble. How would Sarah feel knowing this is happening behind her back.

You constantly antagonize him like that wearing short skirts and tight shirts with no bra because apparently it’s too warm for that. Running into him, pressing your perky tits against his bicep in passing, coincidentally bending over in front of him. Joel was quickly approaching a breaking point, his resolve crumbling more and more with each time that he had to tug at his throbbing length all while thinking about you.

Joel clearly underestimated how much you’d play him and how much better at it you are. At this rate you’ll win this game. He however has a plan, that might even after everything still save him the success.

Joel only has to wait for the right time to attack, catch you off guard and use that to his advantage.

He gets pulled from his thoughts when he hears something that confuses him, you are singing and it sounds beautiful.

Joel creeps up the stairs as quietly as possible to not alert either of you.

The closer he gets to Sarah's door the clearer it becomes. Joel pushes the bedroom door open by only a few inches to get a look at the situation and it makes his heart roar. You sit on the side of the bed we’re Sarah is nicely tucked in, your body facing Joel but your eyes locked on Sarah’s face. Softly singing a lullaby in a language foreign to him while gently stroking over her cheeks, smoothing the hair out of her face, almost like a mother would with her baby. Something Sarah never got to experience in childhood since her mother left so early on.

Joel realizes that despite the rough exterior you put up there’s more to you than just a cold hearted homewrecker, you care for Sarah, you take care of her and watch over her wherever you two run off to. Joel feels gratitude for someone he admittedly doesn’t know a whole lot about.

Joel has seen enough and retreats back downstairs.

When you stumble into the living room to bid your goodbyes Joel looks like he’s deep in thoughts.

So you announce “Sarah is sleeping, make sure she drinks lotssssssss of water when she wakes up and takes more aspirin if needed. I’m out.”

You turn to walk off when Joel gets up “Hey ya sure bout walkin home now? I can drive ya.” He offers but you decline “Nah it’s alright Mr. Miller I can protect myself, I’ve always done it. Besides, why do you suddenly care,huh?“ you sarcastically laugh while slipping out of the house.

When you’ve turned away from him the snarky smile falls right off your face.

Joel actually felt somewhat sorry that night for the way he treated you all those times before.

That lasted until you decided to smoke weed with Sarah in his lil work shed that was situated in the back of his garden.

Joel would’ve realized either way if not by the smells wafting up his nostrils the moment he entered the shed later in the evening, then surely by Sarah’s unstoppable giggling, her slow mumbled speech or by the food flash she got.

When the two of you begged him to let you sleep over he eagerly agreed. Chalk it up to the weed that numbs your brain that this quick reaction didn’t seem suspicious.

Joel knows you will find him, you’ll see the open back door and walk right into his trap. You never sleep the night through when you spend it over at the Millers, he can hear you getting up and wandering around the house. Sarah on the other hand has got to be blessed with an extremely deep sleep.

The thought of overpowering you makes him smile giddily into the darkness of the shed.

As usual you wake up in the middle of the night, ever since being a little child the sleeping became a struggle and nothing works except tiring yourself out.

You get up out of Sarah’s huge plush bed, slip out into the hallway and down the stairs. There you immediately catch the wide open back door leading to the garden. Odd, Mister Miller would never in a million years leave that open.

You walk up to the sliding doors and when you stand in the threshold staring into the dark backyard you see that the shed is left open too.

Out of stupid curiosity you decide to investigate, not the smartest to perhaps walk right into a burglar who has a weapon but you don’t really care.

So you pat the way across the cold grass, it tickles the sole of your bare feet and the fresh midnight breeze actually feels awfully pleasant on your heated skin. Halfway you stop and glance upward at the beautiful full moon shining down on you.

After taking a deep breath you continue onward towards the shed.

When you reach the opening of the shed there’s really nothing you can see or hear. So you step further into it, carefully putting one foot in front of the other.

You feel like someone is watching you but you are unable to pinpoint where it’s coming from. It’s unsettling so you do something considerably stupid “Hello, hello is there anyone? Mister Miller are you in here?” You call out with a shaking voice.

No response.

A light flickering in the center of the room catches you off guard and now you can see him, the one that watched you.

Mr.Miller is sitting on a bar chair behind him is his working table, he leans his back against the edge of the table.

Your eyes immediately go to his slightly sweaty face -the Texas heat is unrelenting even in the middle of the night- he looks gorgeous illuminated by the tiny lamp glowing behind his shoulder on the cupboard. He’s smirking sinisterly at you.

You let your eyes wander over his broad shoulders that are clad in a green flannel. Inevitably your eyes slip down to his wide spread jeans covered thighs, they look so big and muscular.

He catches your staring and drops a hand on his thigh that slowly starts stroking up and down. Making you gulp audibly.

“M..M-..Mister M..Miller what are you doing here?” You stammer out.

“I was waitin for ya to come find me.” He huffs gruffly.

He continues “Close the door behind ya Lucky.”

You feel somewhat hypnotized by his slow calculated words as you, out of pure reflex, reach for the handle behind you.

As you shut the door, effectively trapping yourself with him he murmurs “That’s a good girl. Ya do know how to listen Lucky Girl.”

Hearing Joel call you a good girl in his signature dark molasses like voice had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Hmm ya like that baby, huh?” He inquires

“N..no, that would be fuckin weird.” You try sounding sincere but to no avail Joel has seen through you a long time ago.

“Lucky you are liar, a slut, a junkie..-“

You hiss “What did you just say?” While stepping closer to where he sits.

“Ya heard me right Lucky, you are a fuckin junkie, smoking weed in my shed with Sarah. Are ya outta your mind?” He throws back

“You gotta be kidding me, right? Big Bad Mr Miller is shitting his pants cuz of a bit of weed.” You wheeze.

“That’s enough.” He decides, getting up in one swift imposing movement. Suddenly he’s the one towering over you and he looks pissed.

He’s on you in the blink of an eye threading his hand through your hair grabbing a decent amount by which he pulls you with him.

“Ouch…ouch what the fuck let me go.” You huff while trying to get his hands out of your hair. But he doesn’t appreciate the disobedience and starts pulling even harder, which brings you to tears from the pain.

“Ohhh poor baby Lucky, look at those tears, ya not havin’ fun huh? That’s too bad darlin’ but I don’t care.”

He sits back down on the chair and in one swift motion pulls you over his thighs. Your belly rests on his crotch and your whole world is turned upside down.

“Clearly no one has ever taught ya a lesson, that’s why ya always behave like a bratty bitch.”

His free hand flits to your sleeping shorts and practically tears them off of you. At the ripping sound you yelp.

“Hmm look at that plump ass and those sweet lacy panties…ya always wear this slutty underwear when ya have a sleepover?” All while he’s groping you.

“What the hell are you doing Joel?”

“Aw is it not Mr.Miller anymore? Have we lost our manners lil girl? Or is there a better name for me, hmm?” He inquires.

For some reason you know exactly what he wants to hear but you're not inclined to give in. Yet.

“It’s fine baby ya don’t need to say it now, I’ll make you scream that goddamn name you fucking slut.” He pulls on your hair “Ya hear me bitch.?”

All you manage is a meak nod before he lets go off your face.

You can feel his warm and calloused hand on your cheek squeezing, stroking and poking. Then his hand is gone but not for long. You can’t even react. He's that fast in delivering the first smack to your behind.

“Ya gonna take what i give ya and behave cuz you wanna be a good girl, right? Ya wanna be my good girl,hmm?”

“Y..y-yes I do Mr.Miller.” You say defeated.

“Atta Girl. I think 10 should do it, for now, until ya feel like acting up again..”

He is unrelenting when it comes to punishing you, each time the impact is harder and more unexpected than the previous. You have to bite your lip in order to suppress a moan, even though it hurts it’s incredible. You can feel yourself becoming wet, with each time that his hand collides with your behind more slick gushes out of your pussy. At this point there must be a wet patch visible.

His bulge pressing against your stomach tells you how much this is affecting him too.

“Lucky I know ya try to hide it but I can smell how she’s leaking and if I check I’m sure I’ll find that cunt all sloppy for me, right?”

“Y..y-yes.”

“That’s what i thought.” And with that he continues the assault on your cheeks.

And it may be only ten but he makes them count, the blows are measured and hard. You guess your cheeks must be glowing at this point.

When he finally reaches 10 it feels like hours have passed since you decided to go wander around. He’s massaging your bruised ass. You finally feel like you’re getting a moment of peace but that couldn’t be further from the truth, because Joel threads his hand back into your hair and yanks you to face him.

He’s just staring at you, accessing you and then he kisses you.

It’s rough, teeth clashing, tongues swirling around, his hands urgently grabbing your face, your fingers tangled in his graying curls.

Though the kissing is over before it can escalate too far, Joel is once again pulling you by your hair, this time he’s more gentle, he pulls you off of his knees and pushes you down on them in the space between his spread thighs. You’re at eye level with his crotch now that looks painfully hard.

As you peek up at him through your lashes you muse “Looks like you got a problem, a big problem…Daddy. You want me to help you?” All while innocently tilting your head at him.

He grabs your face roughly “Shut up Lucky and put ya smart mouth to better use.”

“Don’t underestimate me Daddy. I’ll make you love me.” You say while giving him a cheeky wink.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

Npt: @toxicanonymity @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @joelsdagger @tonysopranosrobe @luxurychristmaspudding @mountainsandmayhem @moonlitbirdie @joelalorian @sawymredfox @thundermartini @ace-turned-confused @almostfoxglove @pedropeach @joelsgreys @joelstummy @ovaryacted @iamasaddie @wintrwinchestr @littlemisspascal

#Joel Miller #manspreading olympics #Joel Miller Fic #bfd!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller tlou #joel miller age gap #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #kinda dark #My writing #Mina Writes

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xoxo-sarah · 1 year ago

Note

more angst with daryl yelling at or arguing with fem reader for literally anything, ( ex. talking his ear off, being overly clingy, kissing him to much ) like him being so overwhelmed with everything going on in the world that he thinks she’s the problem he’s so angry and stressed out thinking this relationship thing isn’t for him but soon realizes she’s not after she begins crying and tells him she’ll stop doing whatever he was yelling at her for😋 ending with him being very apologetic and holding her and crying saying stuff like “ i dun deserve you “ “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry..” and she holds him and tell him it’s okay😁

Distracted

↝a/n: went a little off request but I kinda like this. Thank you for requesting-- sorry for it taking me ages. I'm not really used to writing for Daryl.

↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

↝ Warning: twd, zombies, sprained ankle, grumpy Daryl, sad reader, not proofread, low-key rushed even if it's been half done for months

↝⎙ 8.30.23

You weren't sure how or when you got separated from Daryl on your little trip, but you did.

A herd of walkers came out of nowhere. Sure you mind wasn't really clear, but you should've heard them. Just like now, you couldn't wrap you head around why you didn't. Your thoughts were solemnly on why. So much so that you didn't hear the one coming up behind you.

As soon as you felt a grip on your arm, you swung around, expecting 2 things. A walker or Daryl. The snarling and nipping towards you had any relief or hope disappearing in the wind.

Grunting, you pushed it off of you, reaching to grip your knife. Your foot moved the wrong way and a jolt of pain went through it and up your leg.

As soon as you had the knife gripped comfortably, a twig snapped behind you and more snarling blended in.

Turning with the walker held by its shoulder, you quickly plunged the knife into its rotten skull, pushing the limp body into the one that was slowly moving towards you.

Quickly glancing down at your hurt foot, you put more weight onto the other one. Although the pain was excruciating, so would be getting eaten alive.

The walker swayed when the body came in contact, but continued as the body fell down onto the ground. You waited until it came to you instead of putting extra strain on the foot, and plunged the knife into its head. It fell with a thud, as you fell onto your ass, taking your shoe off to see your foot. It was already bruising, a slight hue and swelling was beginning around your ankle. The side foot was angled slightly down, as if you rolled your ankle. Straightening it, you silently cursed.

Hearing something walking up behind you, you quickly turned your head, gripped your knife. Your hand loosened when Daryl came stumbling over leaves and twigs. He acknowledged you, stopping for a second before continuing to walk towards you. He stood in front of you, looking at the two bodies in front of you and back to you. By now, you had put your shoe back on, hiding what was causing you so much pain.

"Wha're you doin'?"

"Sitting down."

He stared at you for a second or two, before flinging his crossbow over his should and putting a hand out. "C'mon. Don't have time for this."

It was getting dark and you were supposed to be back at Alexandria before nightfall. And here you were going to show up empty handed with a rolled ankle and frowns on your face. Well, it was normal for Daryl but they'd know as soon as you walked in with a sour expression that the run didn't go as planned. You were supposed to go out hunting and bring plenty back, to feed the hungry mouth of the old and children.

Preparing yourself, you tried not to physically let him know the pain that shot through your body when you landed.

The last thing you needed was him lecturing you about being more careful. He was already protective of you as is, and with him being extra grumpy, it wouldn't end well.

Arguments weren't not normal. When you two would argue about something, he'd just grunt (mostly when you make a good point) and walk off. When he had cooled down, he'd come back but he'd give you the silent treatment, but still give you attention at the same time. He holds grudges for a very, very long time. Maybe with you it's not as bad, but that's only because he cant stay mad at you forever.

"Keeping that from me was stupid."

"You weren't really in the best mood. You would've just went on and on, I don't really need your lecturing right now."

He grunting, pulled you closer to his body, his hand holding your arm over his shoulder as he helped you limp through the woods.

Hearing more rustling, Daryl stopped walking, turning in the direction the sound came from. Without a second thought, he leaned you against the nearest tree and grabbed his cross bow, aiming all within a few seconds.

The tree didn't seem to be a good choice when you went to lean more of your weight on it and a big piece of the bark fell off, making a loud sound in the quiet trees.

The arrow flew through the air and missed just slightly as the beautiful deer went galloping away from you.

"Damn it!" Daryl threw his hands up, not even looking back at you. He was probably going to say something he'd regret. It wasn't your fault, the tree was atleast 100 years old. Life was just being a bitch today.

Still not looking at you, he moved to grip your arm again, and continued to make your way back home.

It was silent most of the way. An awkward silence, if you will.

A little after what you guessed was 8, Daryl had stopped to fix up a little camp.

The cold nipped at your skin, making you shudder. Daryl saw, but didn't feel like acknowledge anything but his own thoughts.

You hand slipped into his, "I'm sor-"

"Forget it." He took his hand back, picking up a twig from the ground.

You stared at him.

Was he being for real? Choosing to bite your tongue, you simply stared at the fire.

After a moment, you braced yourself for the struggle to stand. "I gotta piss." Maybe that was TMI but you didn't care at this point. If he was going to be cold to you, you could be just as cold.

He grunted, fiddling with the twig in his hand.

Secretly rolling your eyes, you turned to limp your way behind a tree.

"Jesus-fuck!" Could it possibly get any worse? Was the world out to get you right now? It sure felt like it.

Making your way behind a big tree, you didn't see the hole in the ground, mostly because it was dark.

"Y/n?" Leaves crunched under Daryl's boots as he rushed to follow you. Hearing something fall and your curses had his heart drop, his feet led him right to you.

You sat just like you did earlier. You looked done at this point.

You were walking out of these woods with a broken leg if mother nature had anything to say in the matter.

"Be careful." He crouched, just looking at you. You looked back at him, tears burning behind your eyes. "Why're you bein' so clumsy?"

That was a stupid question. A loaded one at that.

You were being a little distracted by your own thoughts today, but he didn't have to be all rude and point it out. Alexandria has been in a bad spot and the pressure to bring food was laying on your chest like an anvil. You were going to come home empty handed. You couldn't stand the picture of disappoinment on the kids faces you'd be met with.

The tears finally fell.

Daryl saw them shine in the dark. His brows furrowed.

"Hey, don't cry."

Sucking in a deep breath, you looked up into the leaves. "You're not really in a good spot to tell me not to cry."

Maybe he was being a little hard on you.

Daryl reached forward, grabbing your hands to help you up. But you were stubborn. He'd argue with anyone that you were more stubborn than him.

You yanked your hands back, digging into the ground behind you and lifting up. When you lifted your body up enough, he wrapped his arms around your middle and lifted you up the rest of the way, ignoring your protests. After he stood you up, you two just stared at each other. It seemed the two of you have done more staring than talking all throughout this trip. There was this tension ever since you walked out of the gate. Maybe it was the fear of letting everyone down. Either way, you two were being too much and not enough at the same time.

"I didn't mean to make you cry." He rasped, his eyes softening.

If Merle were to see him now, he'd definitely call him a 'pussy'. Daryl will admit you've made him soft since you've been together. Or maybe he'd blame that on Judith and RJ. Either way, he had become soft and let you see parts of him he'd promised his teen self he'd never let anyone see. But things have changed. He truly would never purposely make you shed a tear.

"I know." You grumbled, emotions all out of wack. "Today has just been too much."

Before long, you were back at the camp, Daryl's arms around you and his pancho wrapped around you body, fighting against the cold of the night.

" 'm sorry"

Looking up at you, you couldn't help the playful smile making its way onto your face. "You've already apologized."

"Half-assed. Could've lost you today."

The world was in chaos - walkers roaming the streets, scarcity of resources, and constant fear. The stress was taking its toll on everyone's mental health, including Daryl's. It seemed like he was becoming more irritable and short-tempered with each passing day. But he'd still find time to let you know he loved you. When he'd walk out mid argument, he'd always come back, crawling into bed.

It would always be you two. Against everyone and everything. Always.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." And he meant it, every word. He always would.

"I'm sorry too. My head hasn't been clear these last few days."

He nodded in agreement and understanding.

It will be better tomorrow.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd imagine #twd imagines #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead x reader #🐿️#xoxo-sarah 🩷

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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago

Note

can you do really like possessive joel. like she posts a pic of herself in a skin tight dress or bathing suit and joel literally makes her delete it. joel would be like “why should anyone else but me see that?” or he’s like “are u upsetting me on purpose, baby?” ykwim like manipulating possessive joel

Snapchat

1.1k, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

stepdad master | joel master

SUMMARY: You snapchat Joel some steamy videos and his responses are sexy. Then you show up at his house and before you go inside, you post a pic on insta that he thinks should be just for him.

NSFW 18+ big girthy legal age gap, possessive!Joel, sexting, stepcest, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, angst/guilt

A/N: Comes after Instagram, but can be read alone. NEXT: Uber

After you caught Joel jerking off to your instagram and made him finish in front of you, you texted him, “no one uses instagram anymore. you should get snapchat” and gave him your username.

Now, a few times a week, you’ll snap him something sexy. It's nothing explicit, just enough skin to drive him crazy. More skin than instagram. His reaction is always hot. Sometimes just a chat like “wish I could put my head between those legs” or “why do you have to be so goddamn hot?” Sometimes a selfie with that dark, horny look in his eye. Or a POV shot of a bulge in his pants. One time he sends a video where he’s just shaking his head slowly and says “you dunno what you’re doin’ to me baby,” then takes a deep breath and says “god damn,” and his arm starts moving slowly with his hand off screen in his lap.

He doesn't realize you can see his screenshot activity until you tell him and he responds with a 😳. That sets off an ongoing casual text dialogue, and it would feel like you’re “talking,” if it weren’t for him being married to your mother.

You frequently think about his cock, and his hand wrapped around it, and the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you. Even more than that, you think about the way he helped you finish without even touching you. Especially the way he rubbed his own inner thigh. Almost every time you come, you end up thinking about his big veiny hand slowly stroking his pants right next to his package, eating you with his eyes while he watches you touch yourself.

Thinking about it isn’t enough. You need him to touch you, and you want to find out whether he needs to touch you just as bad. You stop sending him sexy pictures on snapchat. He’s a little needy but you don’t relent. You stop by their house when you know he’ll be alone, and when you get there, you post a swimsuit picture to instagram. When you go inside, he’s in the office and has your instagram pulled up. You lean against the door frame wearing the same swimsuit under a long cover up.

He turns around and says, “What is this about, sweetie?”

“Thought you liked seeing me.”

“Does everyone have to?” he asks. He’s trying to be nice but he’s annoyed.

“Why do you care? If you can’t touch me, no one can even see me?

He sighs. “So you’re punishing me for not cheating on your mom?”

You walk into the office and lean against the wall to his side. “It’s a picture. What’s the big deal?”

He gets up from the chair and your eyes fall on the bulge in his pants as he walks toward you and doesn’t stop until he’s right up against you, poking you with his hard package, sending a bolt of desire right through you. He brings his lips to your ear. “This what you want? You’ve made your point. Now delete it.” He goes back to the desk and sits down.

“Delete it or what?”

“Or this is over. No texting, no snapchat. If you’re not mature enough not to punish me. . .”

Your face burns. How dare he. . .

“You can delete it yourself,” you say. “If you rub one out right now.” You take off the swimsuit cover up, slip off your sandals, and sit on his desk right in front of him.

He looks back and forth between your breasts then down your body. “You’re tryin’ to kill me.”

He leans back in the chair and his hand rests right against his inner thigh, giving you a Pavlovian burst of arousal. Your clit twitches.

He frees his stiff member from his pants and holds out his hand for you to spit in. Filthy. You grab his hand and lick it instead of spitting on it, then take his fingers into your mouth two at a time and suck before finally spitting in his palm.

“We both know you have lotion down here,” you say.

“He glares at you as he pumps himself slowly. You lean back on his desk, and he inhales deeply. He rolls the chair back, either to get a better view or because he doesn’t trust himself.

You clench your thighs.

He asks, “you’re not gonna . . . ?”

“Do you want me to?”

“You know damn well I do.” He keeps choking his hard cock, devouring the view.

You slowly ghost your clit over your bathing suit.

He breathes heavily, moans, and his eyes seem a little heavier with each stroke. “Show me,” he says.”

You pull your swimsuit to the side, partly exposing yourself, and glide your fingers up and down your wet seam, poking under your swimsuit. He groans and looks like he could cry. You spread your legs and expose yourself entirely.

“Fuuuck,” he exhales and looks to the ceiling for a beat before returning his gaze between your legs where you’re stroking yourself with two fingers. He scans your entire body then says, “put one in.”

“No,” you reply.

“You get off on bein’ a brat?”

“Want a finger in me that bad, do it yourself.” You slide down so you’re leaning against the desk, still partly on it, stroking your wet folds and clit, getting so wound up you can hardly stand not having his hands on you.

He stares at you for a long ten seconds, chest rising and falling, his strokes becoming faster. Meanwhile your own climax is looming closer and larger every minute.

“Fuck,” he says with resignation in his eyes. He stands up, steps forward and his free hand engulfs your dripping seam while he inhales your hair and stands right up against you. He rubs your slick, throbbing cunt with three flattened fingers as he pumps himself with his other hand. You tilt your head up to watch his brows furrow even more. He plunges a finger into you, and right away he shudders as his cum spills into his other hand. He curls his finger inside you and his thumb works your clit and it doesn’t take long until you’re clenching around his one, thick finger, saying “Ah, fuck. . . Joel, yeah. . .”

“Don’t say my name like that," he pants and reaches for a tissue.

Your temples feel weak.

“. . .I won’t ever stop hearin’ it.”

You put your cover-up back on.

He sits down in the chair, looks at the ceiling and says, “Damn it.”

“What?”

He bows his head and slowly shakes it. He won't look at you. He doesn’t have to say it. You try not to think about it.

True to your word, you pull up the instagram photo and hand him your phone. He checks the likes on the picture and goes to every guy’s profile. His eyes darken.

“Guess you’re right,” he admits. “Don’t want anyone else to have ya. . . ” He deletes the picture and looks at you regretfully, making eye contact for the first time since he finished. “I know it’s not fair.” He hands the phone back. “I dunno what to tell ya, sweetie. . . I’m sorry.”

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxiousus @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose

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cranberrv · 9 months ago

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fic with dally teaching the reader how to drive?

never let me go

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which you and dallas go for a drive

( not proofread , swearing, lowercase intended )

when you were with dallas, you felt free. he was so reckless, so hardcore, and completely bananas. you loved to tag along on his stupid adventures, and now, your new outing is to check on ponyboy and johnny at the church that they’re hiding out in.

“you know how to drive, doll?” he asks you after picking you up, tossing you the keys. “buck won’t let me drive this beauty, but he trusts you.”

you laugh. “well he’s stupid to trust me, because i can’t drive.”

“you’re kiddin’,” he can’t hold his dumb smirk back. the endearing smirk that he gives you whenever he’s about to do something you won’t like. “c’mon, try it then, sweetie.”

“no way, dal,” you shake your head, but he’s already taken your spot in the passengers seat. “i’ll kill you, i’ll crash the car or something, i dunno-“

“i trust ya, stop freakin’ out,” he interuppts, dismissive of your worries. “i’ll teach ya how to work everythin’.”

you debate, but nod and sit in the drivers seat. gosh, it really was more intimidating up there.

“it’s pretty simple, hun,” he starts out. “pedal to your left is your clutch, it’ll make the car drive, pedal in your middle is your break, and pedal to your right is gas. you’d be stupid to not figure it out.” he looks back at you after showing you the pedals, and see’s your expression. “no, no, no, don’t give me that look. you’ll be fine. i’ll hold the wheel for ya.”

he directs you further, and eventually, you get the car going. his left hand is on yours, holding the wheel from the passengers side, helping you keep the car steady.

dallas puts in an elvis cd, and the music echoes throughout tulsa. “finally don’t gotta listen to your shit music,” he teases.

you smile and roll your eyes. “oh shut it, dal, i know you secretly like lesley gore.”

“‘sunshine and lollipops’ is the worst song i’ve ever heard. i’d rather you crash the car than to listen to that fuckin’ mess.”

“you’re mean,” you tease back, and he laughs.

“alright, that’s it, i’m lettin’ go of the wheel. i’m letting you kill us.”

“no, no, no,” you insist. “don’t let go.”

“my arm is cramping, doll,”

“don’t care. never let me go.”

he smiles, and holds your hand a little tighter. the summer breeze is coating the entire convertible in its warmth, your hair is waving in the wind, and dallas is just watching you drive, the focus in your eyes unmatched.

you reach a red light, and finally get a short break to relax. you turn to dallas. “i dunno how you drive everywhere, dal, this is stressful.”

“baby, you’re doin’ just fine.” he assures. “haven’t even run over anything yet, that’s somethin’, huh?”

“i don’t wanna kill us, dal.”

he laughs at that. “i’d hope so.” he takes a drag of his cigarette, then looks around at everything. you’re out of tulsa, out of the city. “i ain’t never been to the country before.”

“really? it’s nice, huh? all the trees and fields and stuff.”

“it looks fuckin’ boring. nothin’ to do around here, does everyone just play checkers or somethin’?”

“you’re such a downer,” you joke. you look up, and realize the light has just turned green. “oh- dal, which one is the clutch, again?”

“you’re a dumbass.” is all he says.

“dal!” you insist, and he puts his hand up in fake surrender. “i mean it, i’m keeping these cars waiting.”

“it’s your far left, doll.” he finally tells you, and you thank him, and then start driving.

you continue driving to meet the boys, and the country scenery is engulfing the both of you. fields on farmland, apple orchards, small, sweet towns, everything was so wholesome and welcoming.

you feel free, like the world is just yours and dally’s. you were born to live this moment, to drive through the countryside in your red convertible, the sun hitting your faces so perfectly that it feels like a coming-of-age movie. you feel golden.

#the outsiders #dallas winston #dally winston #dallas #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston fluff #dallas winston x reader #dally winston fluff

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rubyclover · 4 months ago

Text

Hear me out. Lucifer obviously has daddy issues (for 2 reasons) and a daddy kink. You can’t change my mind. I doubt he knows the kink exists but it wakes up after seeing Adam handle some rowdy hellborn children with finesse. The King is down bad. Wants nothing more than to lay his head between those pigeon pecs while being scolded and praised. He needs to be told where he succeeded at being a dad. Tell him how to do better. It would relax him so much to finally have some solid direction… and leave him horny.

The First Man was also The First Dad so he has all the tips and tricks after raising a herd full of kids with Eve.

Naturally Adam’s sinner ability is just DAD. The dude literally has a Dad Mode he snaps into. He looks 100% human; no horns or wings etc, just straight up disgruntled, plump, human rocker dad. The kind that teaches their kids swear words at age 2 to weaponize them and will fight the bully’s parents on no evidence. ‘These hands are rated E for Everyone! My snot nosed little rug rat said so!’

Imagine Adam arguing with Alastor when suddenly, without turning away from the roadkill eating prick, he screams-

Adam: ‘ANGEL DUST YOU TAKE THAT BACK OUT RIGHT NOW!!!’

*Angel Dust taking his bag full of drugs back out from the toilet’s water tank 2 floors up:* Holy shit how does he know?! I wasn’t doin’ nothin’!

*Adam now looking directly up at Angel Dust:* I have eyes everywhere (he does not) and can smell the disappointment from here (he can not). Fucking trash that shit or give it to the plants. I don't care which one but you're doing it NOW or so help me GOD I'll do it FOR you!

Half pint is just sitting on the couch trying not to pop a boner because his imagination is running wild. And it’s not even the vanilla daddy kink. It’s more like DILF kink mixed with daddy kink. It’s Adam’s surprising competency in an area that Lucifer struggles that gets him. He’s not looking to call Adam Daddy or anything.

How can Adam be such a cool Pa without flashy techniques? Able to pull trivia for getting food stains out of difficult fabric with random ingredients from the wild, how to tell when your kid has a crush years before they realize, know when to comfort teenagers and when to let them come to you, how to catch your kid in a lie? Magical!

Things like that.

Ok so yeah he wants to be called a good boy for trying to parent when everyone tells him he’s shit. Is that so much to ask? But Lucifer has competition from several powerful people in Hell because hello? The original DILF is in Hell now and he looks human. Nobody else looks close to that and rarity is scarcity in a depraved marketplace like Hell.

The problem is Dad Mode isn't a defensive or offensive ability. DM functions like the old fairytales surrounding parents supposedly having supernatural abilities. So Adam will just know things, appear suddenly when you're plotting mischief, vaguely see from the back of his head, cook food with mild physical and emotional healing properties and such. DM is funny but ultimately anyone can gank him.

So obviously the Big Bad King of Hell will have to watch over Adam so that no funny business happens. The new Sinner is practically defenseless. Exactly how Lucifer likes him because it's like Eden again. So Adam is living in The King's end of the wing, in his tower, and is rarely out of his sight.

Just low key daddy/dilf kink for Lucifer and Adam doing it for him.

[Note: Cain still killed Able but the majority of Adam and Eve’s time on Earth wasn’t as horrific as it could have been. The husband and wife mostly dealt with illnesses, ugly human emotions, sabotage, the wildlife and famine. Sin got worse after Adam's kids died because the angels stopped closely working with humanity. So while there is pain between Lucifer and Adam this version got lucky.]

#hazbin hotel au #hazbin lucifer #adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam

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cautionworks · 2 years ago

Text

Baby, Let's Make Another One

A sequel to "Baby, I'm yours".

Pairing: Na'vi! Miles Quaritch x Human! Female! Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: Fluff and Smut with a dash of Angst, Post- Pregnancy, Age gap, daddy kink, breeding kink, Na'vi/Human sex, alien sex, vaginal fingering, and Linking Na'vi Queue with Human. Yes, you read that correctly because I'm a pervert and I like to find creative ways to write smut.

A/n: I wrote this because one I wanted to write more Na'vi Quaritch x Human Reader stories and two you would not believe the amount of people requesting that I write more or make a sequel.

Dog tags: An army necklace that's worn to be identified in case of death and is similarly shaped like a dog tag.

Nga yawne lu oer: "I love you."

Nga yawne lu oer nìteng: "I love you too."

@marahisthebest @sofysofiasofi @kassada @automaticwizardnerd @fourcefulcupid @anbanananna Enjoy!

Positive. You were positive on your third pregnancy test. You didn't know if it was possible but you were in fact pregnant with Quaritch's child. That could only be the case, he’s the only person you’ve been with for the past year.

Tears of joy brimmed in your eyes when the realization of a child was growing inside you and the fact it was his. You had to tell him, you wanted to tell him right now, but he was at work right now. So you waited until Miles came home, which was late in the evening. For this special occasion, you decided to make his favorite meal for dinner, Gumbo. A meal that takes him back to his hometown.

By the time you finished making dinner, you heard the door open to hear familiar footsteps.

"I'm home." Hearing his southern drawl of a voice again made you jump in excitement. You set the plates down and came to him with open arms. He immediately crouched down to hug you, his tail swinging back and forth.

Within a few seconds the aroma of spices and fresh meat filled his nose. "Is that Gumbo I'm smelling?"

You nodded your head. "Uh, huh."

He titled his head as his ears moved down. "Aw, thank you, baby." He kissed your forehead. "How ya doin’?"

"Good." You smiled but you couldn't hide the excitement bursting inside you. You smiled in a way that lets him know you're happy about something else but he didn't know what. Whatever it is, he was glad to come home and see you bright and happy.

"What's going on?" He smiled softly. "Did something happen?"

You didn't want to delay it any further so you just blurted out.

"..I'm pregnant." You looked at him carefully to see his reaction.

His eyes widened and ears perked up the moment you said 'pregnant'. He stood there frozen, his face deep in thought. He thinks back to the last time he saw Spider, after the battle of the sea dragon. He remembers when he was standing by his Irkan, injured, and reaching his hand out to Spider, hoping that he’ll come back with him to base. But instead Spider gave him a vicious hiss as his goodbye and jumped in the water and swam away. Quaritch was too injured to try and get him back and so he flew back to base on his Ikran.

It was at this moment that Miles knew that he can’t and will never have the father-son relationship he wanted. No matter how hard his memories demanded him to be with Spider, his attempts of reconnecting with his son failed.

And now here he was, at home with you and you telling him you were pregnant with his child. Could this be his chance of having a family again? Could he recreate what was broken? Were you willing to make a life with him?

"..Is this true, baby?" He said in a hoarse tone, like he couldn't believe what he just heard.

You nodded eagerly. "Yes!"

In less of a second, he lifted you up and wrapped his tail around your thigh, careful to not squeeze you. He was the happiest man alive on this planet.

"..Oh, darlin’, thank you." He smiled fondly at you and kissed you as he spoke words of endearment.

"..Thank you."

One year has passed since the birth of your son, Jason. He was born healthy and appeared as a full human baby. No tail or blue skin but he did have his father’s eyes, which was the only unusual thing about him but you didn’t care, you loved him all the same. As long as he was healthy and functioning well, that’s all it mattered to you. You couldn’t say the same for Miles in the beginning.

When Jason was born, Miles was overjoyed but when the baby opened his eyes, his eyes held the same color as his father. Golden orbs with cat-like pupils. They were Na'vi eyes and it did not sit well with Miles. Quaritch being surprised was an understatement. He wasn’t happy, he was displeased. He honestly thought that his human characteristics would be enough to pass his children as fully human. But who was he kidding, he's a 9,5ft blue alien. It’s a miracle (to him) that his child looked mostly human.

You remembered the look he made when he saw his child open his eyes for the first time. He looked like he saw something that was wrong with your baby and it worried you. "What's wrong?" You asked him.

"He's got..” He hesitated but his memories of his past life got the better of him. “He's got those hostile eyes." He frowned.

You your lips pursed. "...Hostile?!" You whispered yelled to not scare the baby. "How could you say that about our son?" You wish you could get out of the bed and smack him but your body was still too exhausted from the labor. "You better think about your next words carefully, Quaritch."

That name. You rarely ever use that name and when you did it struck through Miles and it made him think.

Was he really upset about it? Could it be his memories of hating the Na’vi transcend onto his own son? He felt disgusted with himself with this notion. From that moment, he had a change of heart, and promised to love the child you've created with him.

He says nothing and you took that silence to heart, making the floodgates open. You started crying and this time it wasn't out of the pain you endured to bring your son into this world or the moment you saw your son for the first time, it was because the love of your life, your partner, your husband, didn't accept the baby you've made. And It hurt you.

Miles saw the hurt in your eyes and immediately regretted what he said. He carefully put Jason down on the hospital crib and approached you slowly.

“..Baby, I’m sorry.” You could hear the guilt in his voice and it made you cry even harder. He wrapped his arms around you without crushing you as best as he could. He felt such a dick at the moment.

He took your hands gently into his, rubbing the knuckles of your hands with his thumb. “I was being an asshole and I shouldn’t have said all that bullshit.”

You nodded as you wiped off the tears on your face.“..Okay.”

When he was close enough to your face, you took that opportunity to grab his ears and yank them down hard. You could’ve grabbed his queue but you didn’t want him to hurt that badly so you settled with his ears.

“..Shit-” He winced, fighting the urge to pull you off because he knows he deserves it. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay, I get it, damn it!”

“Serves you right.”

It was the beginning of January, the year was 2173. You were at home in your room, holding your son in your arms. He was fast asleep when you put him back on the crib, watching him sleep peacefully. You hear small footsteps come behind you and you turned around to see Quaritch duck his head under the door.

He pouts as he touches the back of his ears.

He puts his hand on your shoulder. "Is he asleep?" He whispered quietly.

"Yeah," You whispered back. "He sleeps so easily."

He chuckled. "Just like his old man."

You chuckled as well when the both of you left the room, closing the door quietly.

Unexpectedly, Miles lifted you up and carried you to the living room, you didn't even gasp. He's done this enough times for you to get used to it. He just likes picking you up since you're so small in size.

He sits on the couch with you on top of him, all nice and snuggled. It may be the beginning of the new year, but it was still a bit cold and Miles was a natural furnace as always.

You take the remote control and flip through channels until you settle on channel 13, a random animal documentary displaying on the TV screen. You did not expect to see a pair of lions seemingly horny and about to mate but you were curious enough to not switch the channel immediately.

“Lionesses are receptive to mating for three or four days within their reproductive cycle. During this time a male will mate every 20–30 minutes and can mate up to 50 times a day." The camera zooms in on a female lion lying down with a male behind her, positioning himself to mate with her. You see Miles' tail moves in excitement as the two of you watch the two animals begin mating with each other.

"It is known that mating sessions last less than a minute so the male can copulate many times a day."

It's only been a minute since you sat down and watched some TV and already you feel him touch your thighs, letting you know exactly what he's thinking about. You can't help but lean back into his chest to hear him whisper into your ear, smiling against you.

"..Baby, let's make another one," His hands go under your shirt and shorts." I promise I'll last longer than a lion." He grinned at you and you couldn't help but chuckle. “What'd ya say, sweetcakes?" He kisses your ear, biting it gently with his fang.

The way he said that sends waves of arousal to your already wet pussy. Welp, there goes your cervix again.

"That depends." You whispered back. "Are you sure you want me to have a big belly and bigger tits again?"

You know by now that he would say yes but you want him to say it anyway.

He wrapped his tail around your thigh to keep you from going anywhere and without hesitation he said. "Anyday."

"Then come give it to me big daddy." You smirked in anticipation.

You didn't have to say it twice. His hands slip under your shorts and panties, his fingers graze against your lips, wetness coating them instantly. You heard him groan in delight behind you.

"Damn, yer so wet, sweetheart.You really want another one, don'cha?" He dips his large digits inside you, making you curl your toes and cry out in pleasure.

"..Fuck." You whimpered. "..Y-yes."

You hear an amused hum, a low vibration that comes from his throat and spreads to you. He slides his other hand under your shirt. You weren’t wearing a bra so he grabbed your breasts and massaged them with ease as he curled his fingers inside you. It is true that his hands are large to hold your breasts but that doesn't stop him from fondling it.

He whispered to you as if you two weren’t alone. "Feels good doesn't it, baby?" He said with a mix of love and lust tinting his voice. It didn’t take long for his fingers to reach your G-spot, making your legs tremble in indescribable pleasure. You moan and squirm but Quaritch is strong enough to hold you down without delaying the pleasure you’re feeling. Once he's gathered enough wetness, he starts rubbing your clit in circular motions.

The pleasure was beginning to become too much that you couldn’t control the volume of your voice. "..Yes, please, please don't stop! Don't-"

"Sh-ssh," He hushed you, pausing his movements to slow you down. "You don't wanna wake the baby, do ya?"

Of course not. It was one of your big hurdles that you and Miles learned to fuck more quietly snice you were a vocal woman and the fact Quaritch reached your cervix every time you guys made love.

He returns back to fingering you and this time you tried to moan quietly as best you could. "Here we go," He cooed softly. "That’s my good girl."

“..Fuck, I’m cumming.” You cried as your hips wiggled.

“Yes, yes, that’s right, babygirl. Keep goin’, cum into my hands.”

And as if on command you came on his fingers. Hot spurts of cum drenched into his hands and you're still shaking from the unstoppable fingering he's doing to you. And as you continue cumming, he praises you, switching between 'good girl' and 'that's my good girl', as if you can't get more aroused. He releases his tail around your thigh.

When your high fell down, you sat up and turned around to face him. “..Let me ride you,” You whispered to him breathlessly.

He takes off his tank top but leaves his dog tag on. “M’kay, baby. Whatever you say.”

“With your queue.”

His brows rose in surprise. “What?”

“I want to try putting your queue, erm, inside me or just rubbing it against it.”

“..Sweetheart,” He sighed. “Y’know this is a Na’vi thing, I dunno if it’ll work the same way with humans, let alone be harmless to ya.”

“..I know but I trust you. I won’t ask again if you say you don’t want to.”

“Fine, we can try it but I’ll be the one who puts it on.”

You smiled at him. “Yes, daddy.” You spread your legs and used your fingers to spread your wet pussy lips, hoping to entice him.

"Who knew you're such a dirty li'l girl." He grabs the end of his braid and holds his queue out, the pink tendrils moving upwards in a continuous motion. You watched him carefully move his queue closer to your wet folds, making you anxious at the sight of it reaching closer to your privates.

As it gets closer, the tips of it touch your outer lips, it does nothing but keep moving as it did before. He brings it up to your clit and this time your body shudders in pleasure at the contact of it. “A-ah!” You moaned. “..M-miles, fuck.”

His ears perked at the tingle he just felt. “You feelin’ good, baby?”

“Yes,” You breathed. “..Put it deeper into me.”

He gave you a silent nod as he brought the tip down to your wet entrance. Within seconds, the soft tendrils latched into your inner walls, instantly making you feel its pulse. The both of you breathe deeply in unison, the sensation of feeling each other’s body for the first time overwhelms you both. You didn’t think it was possible at all but it was. You didn’t need to be an avatar or recom to experience this intimate moment, the ability to feel someone else’s body.

“Oh, my god, Miles...” You close your eyes as you take in this otherworldly sensation.

“Holy shit,” He chuckled in amazement. “Baby, are you feelin' this?”

You nodded. “..Yes, I can feel you.” You touch his large hands as you smile, a brief look of content painted on your face. “I can feel your breathing, your pulse.” A perverted smile surfaced on your face as you felt something more intense and erotic. “And how incredibly hard you are right now.”

“Me too, cupcake.” He chuckled. “I can literally feel yer pussy throbbin’ right now.” He now senses your body's need to be filled.

“You still wanna ride on my dick, huh?” He lays down on his back as his queue stays attached to you. “God, yes.” You crawl over to him and lift yourself as you take his length into your hands and align it carefully to your entrance, lowering yourself slowly.

With how slick and horny you are, his cock slipped inside you easily and did not interfere with the connection between you and his queue.

“..Christ,” He groaned and it was unlike anything you heard of him. “Ho, baby girl.” He can't believe what he was experiencing at the moment. He can feel himself stretching you and how good it feels to you.

It was a spiritual and intimate experience the two of you were sharing together and all the while you looked so sexy while you’re on top.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He muttered to himself.

The tip of it kisses your cervix and you cry out. “Ah, r-right there, Miles.” He grins at the sight of your expression, with the addition of him feeling you stretched to the hilt. "Look at you, desperate to take my cock again. You want to take my cum again, huh, princess?"

You start to bounce, lifting your hips up and down as your tits move in the same motion. "Yes, yes, daddy!"

"Mnn, and be bred again?"

"F-fuck, yes, please. Cum in me," You cried. "Gimme your cum, please!"

"Mnn, you just always know what to say, babygirl. You take me so well, always so snug around me. It's like you were made to be bred by me."

The praises and dirty words made you shiver in arousal. You bent your body over as you buried your head to his chest, his hands gripped your ass while the other was planted firmly on your small back. Miles groaned as he lifted his hips and thrusted deep inside you, his movements making you cling to him tightly.

"Mmm, yes, baby, just like that. Keep it comin’, mama. Daddy’s gonna fill you up nice and good. Soon you're gonna be so full of cum and when you get pregnant, I'll just keep cummin’ inside ya every night."

And before you were about to say something, Miles felt through his queue you were about to cum soon.

"..Fuck, I'm gonna cum, daddy." You cried to his chest, holding on to it as best as you could while your pussy was getting wrecked. The TV remained on but the sounds of groaning and whimpers and the lewd sounds of skin against skin were louder.

"Come on, babygirl, cum for me." You hear him growl, that's when you know his instincts are kicking in. "Cum for daddy." He smacked your ass.

"A-ah, AH, Miles, please!" You chanted his name like he was your savior, switching between ‘daddy’ and ‘Miles’ until you lost the ability to speak.

“That’s right. Cum.” He pounds below you hard as you whimper. “Cum on daddy’s dick..”

And before he said anything else, you felt his cock throb through the queue, hinting he was about to explode and the sensation itself made you want to release yourself.

"Shit, baby, I'm cummin’-" He grunts as his thrusts become brutal. "Daddy’s comin’,M fuck-"

For the first time in months, you came at the same time together. The two of you shudder in heavenly bliss, your pussy clamps around him so tightly as hot cum rushed inside you. You’ve never cried so loudly and you’ve never cummed this much, maybe it had to do with the queue.

He gives out a few last thrusts before he stops and stays inside you. The both of you are out of breath, hugging each other as you let the afterglow of sex take over you too.

When your high faded, you sat up and took his softened dick out of you, a thread of cum spilling out of you.

..You’re so getting pregnant after this. You thought to yourself.

You looked down to see the queue still attached to you. A grin surfaced on your face as an idea popped into your mind.

"Hey, Miles." You grabbed the tuft of hair on his queue and flatten it onto the front of your vulva. "..Look at my hairy pussy." You smirked as you looked at him funny.

His ear drooped down and his lips curled into a smug smirk and before you know it he bursted into laughter. You know he's always had a dirty sense of humor and it was one of the reasons why you two connected with each other, with queue or not.

"Nga yawne lu oer." He says to you in Na'vi.

You’re not fluent in Na’vi but you know enough to understand what he said to you, so you said, “Nga yawne lu oer nìteng.” with a smile.

#na'vi miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #avatar the way of water edit #avatar the way of water #na'vi quaritch #na'vi x reader #na'vi avatar

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redstarwriting · 1 year ago

Text

partners

hobie brown x reader

request?: yes

request: “Hello! Sorry if this request is really long ;-; okay so hobie and the reader are new recruits to the spider society and are partnered together at first was difficult to get along but as time goes on and they get the whole partner thing down an obvious attraction between the two, but no action was made until one difficult fight against an anomaly. While fighting pieces of a broken building had fallen on the reader, leaving them stuck while hobie went over to try and get them free but was struck by anomaly and the reader hated seeing hobie get hurt used all their strength got out from under the rubble and took care of the anomaly and realized that they could no longer stand idly by without telling hobie the truth. I'm sorry about the length and thank you if you chose to write it 🫡🙏 love your work !!”

requested by: anon

word count: 2.7k

genre: angst(ish), fluff

Warnings: language, stab wound, broken ribs, panicked Hobie, mentions of blood, mentions of severe injuries, stitches, mentions of needles

A/N: ok so i got a little carried away with this one LMAO and NEVER apologize for a request being long! I appreciate all the requests i get no matter how short or long they are 🖤 please enjoy!

───────────────────────────────────

Hobie Brown was the bane of your existence. The most attractive bane of existence that there could possibly be.

And unfortunately for you, Miguel insisted on the two of you being partners.

The reasoning was because he didn’t trust Hobie to do any of his Spider Society duties — at least not in a smart way — and you were very… meticulous. You had a way you did things and didn’t like when your way was compromised. It helped that the two of you were the same age, so Miguel’s dad side popped out and figured the two of you could influence each other.

The first time the two of you went on a mission together, that was far from the truth.

Walking back into Spider Society, you would have thought the two of you didn’t complete the mission. You did, obviously, but the two of you literally looked like your asses got beat. Because you did. “What… happened?” Miguel asks, honestly a little concerned and shocked at the state of you two. “What ‘appened is ‘at I work alone, but you insisted I work with this bloody fuckwit.”

“I TOLD YOU A PLAN AND YOU SAID ‘Yeah, sure, mate, but I’m doin’ what I want’ AND THEN ALMOST DIED YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING DUMBASS!” you yell and he rolls his eyes. “Well, ‘ave you ever considered your plan was shit, mate?”

“No! Because it wasn’t!”

“Yes! It was!”

“It was better than your fucking plan of jumping in and just winging it!”

“That’s rubbish! I—”

“Would the both of you stop?!” Miguel yells, and the two of you glare at each other before looking at him. “Hobie, listen to them next time. (Y/n), don’t be afraid to let some things be improvised.”

“Next time?” Hobie nearly screams, and Miguel nods. “The two of you are partners. You’re a team. It’s time to act like it,” Miguel says, and the two of you groan. “I don’t ‘ave to do anythin’ you say, asshole,” Hobie says to Miguel, and he frowns. “You both need to learn how to work with others.” “But we’re Spider-People! We’re supposed to work alone,” you say, and he shakes his head. “No. The two of you are partners. Learn to work together.”

From that point on, the two of you exclusively went on missions together. And you slowly started to learn how to work together. To the point where the two of you were nearly unstoppable. Miguel’s plan worked, Hobie learned some structure, and you learned to be a little more flippant in your decisions. To say he was a proud spiderdad was an understatement. He bragged about it to Peter and Jessica any chance he could get. Something he didn’t expect was the unwillingness from the two of you to then stop being partners. “You’re mental if you think ‘m not gonna keep workin’ with ‘em. Dumbass’ll die,” Hobie crosses his arms. “How to you expect him to survive if I’m not there to tell him what to do?” you roll your eyes.

Miguel was confused, but he didn’t hate the pair-up. So, he said fine and continued treating you two as a partner unit.

It was only later on that he realized why the two of you refused to stop working together. And it was thanks to Pavitr that he found out. “Miguel!” Pavitr yells, running over to him. “Yes, Pavitr?”

“How did you know?”

“How did I know what?” Miguel asks, already exasperated with the conversation. “About (Y/n) and Hobie!” Pav says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow at him. “What about them?”

“That they’re so obviously head over heels for each other! That’s why you paired them up, right?” he says excitedly, and Miguel just stares at him. “No.”

“Oh… well, forget I said anything, then. You had me worried there for a second, bro. I thought you could read people better than I could, and I couldn’t have that,” he trails off as he starts webbing away. Now that Miguel thinks about it, you and Hobie did have some sort of gravitational pull toward each other. He noticed that even when the two of you weren’t working together on a mission, you were constantly near each other. Even when the rest of the problem children weren’t around. And he never did quite see Hobie smile at anyone else the way he smiles around you. And you did tend to stare at Hobie for seemingly no reason. Damn. Guess pairing you two up was a good idea for multiple different reasons. Now he wasn’t just a proud spiderdad of the two of you, but of himself as well. “Good job, Miguel,” he nods, talking to himself.

However, while it was obvious for everyone, including the two of you, there was never anything pursued. No one could really understand why the two of you haven’t just been honest with each other, honestly. It was obvious to everyone the two of you cared more about each other than anyone else in the multiverse, but the two of you just continued saying you were merely friends and that there was no special relationship between the two of you. Which was a blatant lie, even to the two of you, but it continued to be the story told.

Until this latest mission.

The two of you were tasked with capturing an anomaly in your world. Of course, you were the only one told about it, but Hobie showed up anyways. It ended up being a Doc Ock variant, easy enough, but this specific one was tough. His arms were stronger and more technologically developed than others. Not to mention his annoying willpower to not give up. “Right, what’s the plan, then, love?” Hobie asks, and you frown. “We need to find a weak spot in his arms,” you say, and Hobie tuts. “And ‘ow are we gonna do ‘at?”

“Guess we’ll have to improvise,” you shrug, and he smiles at you. “‘ave I ever told ya I love it when it’s clear I’ve rubbed off on ya?”

“All the time, Hobie. Now, let’s go catch ourselves an octopus,” you say, and the both of you start fighting. And he was indeed harder to beat than the both of you expected. And it quickly becomes apparent to this Octavius that the two of you have feelings for each other with how often Hobie is trying to protect you, and how often you’re trying to protect Hobie. So, he figures it would be easier to take one down and distract the other long enough to take the other down. And that’s how you get thrown into the side of a building with so much force that it collapses around you.

Hobie, of course, immediately panics. He rushes over to you, frantically digging through the rubble. He sounds the most panicked you’ve ever heard him “(Y/N)? LOVE CAN YOU ‘EAR ME?!” You cough, yelling out a quick yes before trying to push as much of the rubble as he possibly can off of you. He manages to free enough of the rocks that he can see you, and you can see him. “‘m gonna get you out of there, love,” he mumbles, and you shake your head. “Deal with him first, I’ll be fi—”

“No.” Hobie doesn’t leave any room for arguments, continuing to throw rubble around to try and get you out. Unfortunately, he’s too focused on you and the worry that you might get severely injured to notice the mechanical arm about to smash into him until it’s too late. You scream his name as he gets struck, and flies into another building with a thud. He hears a sickening crack in his head and pain spreads throughout his torso. He groans, realizing his ribs just broke (again) and he can’t move for a moment.

He’s dazed, you can tell, and it just pisses you off. Doc Ock laughs, muttering something about how it was ‘too easy when it came to partners.’ You were enraged. You rarely use your full strength, in fact, nearly all the spiders try not to use their full strength for fear of what they might do to their enemies. But you’re too angry to think straight, and you just want this asshole to shut up so you can go home. You growl, beginning to lift the rubble off of you. The piece you’re lifting is a large part of the building, which is why you were trapped in the first place. Doc Ock glares at you, preparing to continue the fight. He didn’t expect you to fight back like this after the other had been struck down so violently.

You push the rubble above your head, casually holding a large piece of a building and breathing heavily. Not from overexertion, but from anger. Doc Ock extends his arms toward you, one opening to reveal a sharp dagger going directly for your heart. Before it can stab you where you would surely die, you’re able to twist your body to ensure it only goes through your shoulder. The pain is searing, but you’re too distraught to care about it. You rip the dagger out with one arm, somehow holding the building with one hand before you throw the rubble at him. He quickly brings up his arms to soften the blow, and even though they successfully make the rubble crumble around him, the kick you deliver to his face is enough to knock him back. Hard.

He looks up at you, dazed and confused about how you got to him that fast, before you deliver another blow, knocking him out cold. Your chest heaves as you raise your arm to strike him again before it’s held back by someone. Hobie captures him in one of Miguel’s specially designed prisons, and then opens a portal. He just tosses him in. He’ll show up in Spider Society one way or another. “Calm down there, sweetheart,” he says, and you turn, immediately checking over him to see how hurt he is. You can see some gashes throughout his suit, but he seems stable enough. All because he saw you get stabbed, and he’s pretending like his ribs aren’t in half. “I was just caught off guard, love, ‘m fine,” he says softly, slipping his arm behind your shoulders and slowly lowering you to the ground. “Wish I could say the same for you,” he mutters, staring at the stab wound pouring out blood. “Oh, this? This is nothing,” you grunt, the pain coming to the forefront now that the adrenaline is gone. He scoffs. “Yeah, ‘m sure,” he mumbles, unable to take his eyes off of your injuries. “Hobie… hey, my eyes are up here. Mask is on, so they’re so big you can’t miss ‘em,” you tease, and he looks up at you. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For bein’ soft in the ‘ead. Now you’re ‘urt cause a’ me,” he says quietly, and you shake your head. “You’re hurt because of me. I should have been paying closer attention to where I was going,” you mutter, and the blood loss begins to affect your head, “I kinda lost it when I thought about how your pretty face may have gotten fucked up.”

“Pretty, eh?”

“Mhm. So pretty,” you mumble, and he picks you up, carrying you with one arm and applying pressure to the wound with his other hand. You wince, and he frowns. “Sorry, love, can’t ‘ave you bleedin’ out on me after you admitted ‘m pretty,” he says. “Hold onto me best you can, yeah?” You wrap your good arm around his neck and your legs around his waist as he removes his hand from your wound and begins swinging to your place. He has one arm wrapped firmly around you to make sure you don’t fall, especially when he feels your grip loosening. “Stay with me, love,” he mumbles in your ear as he lands on your fire escape, hurrying up to your window and opening it. He steps in, carrying you, and goes straight to your bathroom. He props you up against your wall, sitting in front of you, and getting out the first aid kit all Spider-People are oh so familiar with.

You struggle to stay awake, but the stinging of the alcohol when he started cleaning your wound wakes you up and causes you to wince and whine. “I know, it ‘urts, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, getting the needles ready to stitch you up. The pain of being a Spider-Person never quite lets up. You clench your teeth, and he works as fast and diligently as possible to get you fixed up. The whole time you just stare at his face. He’s so concentrated and worried that you can tell he’s gnawing on the inside of his cheek. He finishes up, looking up at you. “You’re starin’, love.”

“How can I not?”

“The blood loss must really be gettin’ to ya,” he says, setting your first aid kit to the side, and giving you a small smile. You snort and shake your head. “Thanks,” you say, and he nods. “’Course, (Y/n/n).” Then you frown. “You have a cut on your forehead.”

“I’ll live,” he says, and you motion him to come closer. He gladly scoots closer to you as you apply a butterfly bandage to his forehead. He stares at you the whole time, waiting for you to finish. When you do, the two of you make eye contact. “Ya really think ‘m pretty?” he mumbles, and you nod. “Have for a while.”

“Serious?”

“Mhm,” you process just how close the two of you are in this moment and feel your face heat up. He smiles softly. “Not as pretty as you, though,” he whispers, glancing at your lips before returning his gaze to your eyes. The two of your noses brush, and he gently puts his hand on your cheek. “‘m tired of runnin’ from this,” he whispers. “Me, too,” you say, closing the gap between the two of you. He wraps his free arm around your waist, gently pulling you closer to him as you place your hands on his shoulders. The two of you stay like that for what feels like way too short. He slowly pulls away, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. He strokes your cheek with his thumb. “Reckon we should go back to Spider Society,” he mumbles, and you sigh. “I dunno… I kinda wanna stay here. With you, no one else,” you say, and he chuckles. “Oh, me too. I don’t wanna go, but Miguel will call both of us if we don’t. We go, tell ‘im we didn’t die so ‘e doesn’t bother us, come back, yeah?”

“Deal,” you mumble, and he slowly stands, wincing. You frown. “You broke a rib, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, a few. I’ll be fine, nothin’ new,” he says, holding his hand out to you and helping you up. “Are ya lightheaded?”

“A little, but I’ll survive,” you assure, and he nods, wrapping his arm around your waist anyways to steady you. You wrap yours around his waist as well, offering him some extra support as he opens a portal to Spider Society. The two of you walk (moreso limp) your way there, and Miguel looks at the two of you. “What… happened?”

“Eh. Bloke was an ass,” Hobie says. “I was worried when he came through a portal but the two of you didn’t.”

“We had to stitch ourselves up. We just stopped in to say we didn’t die,” you shrug, and Hobie nods. “Well… alright, then. You can go to the hospital here if you need to,” Miguel says, and Hobie shakes his head. “Nah. We’re just gonna go sleep it off.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re even recovering as partners now?” Miguel asks, and the two of you look at each other. “We do everything as partners now,” you say, and Hobie smiles. “You mean…?” Miguel realizes the two of you have finally come to terms with your feelings. And finally told each other. “Yeah. We’re partners. In every sense of the word,” you grin, and Hobie nods. “Guess I should thank ya, Miguel. Don’t get used to it,” Hobie says as you pull up the portal to your world. Miguel watches the two of you disappear into it.

Hobie Brown was the bane of your existence. The most attractive bane of existence that there could possibly be.

And fortunately for you, Miguel insisted on the two of you being partners.

───────────────────────────────────

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spiderverse #atsv

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ddejavvu · 2 years ago

Note

i think you just spun my whole world with dbf! jake seresin. like i’m thinking about him going back to top gun to teach and you happen to tell your friends that miramar is the PERFECT place for your spring break. and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind when he sees you strutting into the hard deck with your friends. and when you see him and send him a smirk, he’s getting up to talk to you and rooster would be like “you still got it, old man” and jake’s just grumbling about “if only you knew”

🤭🤭 gAh okay i'm horny <3

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters), minors dni. (cw: age gap, don't like, don't read. rooster's about 33-34 in the film, i think, so i'm assuming hangman is somewhere around there, too).

"Woah," Coyote's low drawl breaks Jake away from the concentration he's administering to pool, "They're not navy wives."

"Navy daughters, maybe." Rooster snickers, and Jake turns to see-

Oh fuck, Jake turns to see you.

You and your friends, finishing off college strong with a spring break trip that Jake had no idea about.

"I bet they've got fake ID's," Coyote watches as you make your way over to the bar, and Jake scoffs, putting his pool cue down.

"Christ, guys, they're old enough to drink. They're almost through college, don't be creeps. Just-" Jake's eyes meet yours, and he startles as he realizes you've turned to look at him, your eyes burning and laser-focused on him, "-let me handle this."

"Damn," Coyote laughs, jabbing Jake in the side with his own cue, "Didn't know you were into cradle robbing, Hangman."

"She's not that young," Jake huffs, smacking the cue away from his side, "And- and I'm not doing anything! Fuck off, guys."

He's halfway over to you when the unmistakable voice of Rooster whoops, "You've still got it, old man!" and Jake's jaw clenches as he closes the distance between you.

"Y/N," Jake raises an eyebrow at you, smiling sweetly, "Care to explain what you're doin' here? If I recall correctly, you should be studying for something right now."

"It's spring break," You gush, sipping on a beer, the same kind Jake drinks, "I forgot you were teaching here! I just wanted to see the beach."

"Hm," Jake ponders, "Really? The beach is out there. In here," He switches his pointer finger from aiming outside to the wood floor beneath you, "There's booze."

"Booze is good, too." You shrug, taking another sip, "So, how's teaching going?"

Jake's eyes break off of your own mid-sentence to watch a young pilot's across the bar. The man's eyes dip greedily down your form, landing at the hem of your skirt that Jake decides is too short.

"Nope," He huffs, reaching towards your hip to yank the dress down, one hand braced on your shoulder to stop it from exposing your chest, "Let's, uh- let's go outside, okay? We can see that beach you came here for."

You let him lead you across the bar, back to the front doors that swing open at his touch. You don't see the aggressive middle finger that he throws to his laughing friends in the corner, but when he's done with the obscene gesture the hand falls to your shoulder, guiding you down the steps and into the sand.

"I didn't come here for the beach," You confess, just when you reach its waters. The ocean laps at the shore, seafoam nearly crowding your toes.

There's a long sigh from Jake, then, "I didn't think so."

"Oh? Why not?" You turn on your heels, back to the water. Your red dress looks fantastic in the moonlight, and Jake has a hard time keeping his hands off of it.

"If you wanted to take a spring break near the beach, you'd go to Florida." He reasons, shrugging, "Everyone goes there."

"Florida scares me," You admit, "Maybe I just like Miramar better."

He snorts, "Really? You'd prefer a bunch of hotshot dickhead pilots breathing down your neck?"

"No," You shake your head, sand soft beneath your toes, "I prefer the one that doesn't."

"Sweetheart," He sighs, but you cut him off.

"No! No, don't do that," You point at him, "Don't start spiraling. I know you like me, Jake. I know you do. And I like you, too! You're not a cradle robber," Jake cringes as he realizes you must have heard his friends earlier, "I'm the one pursuing you. I know that you really care about me, Jake, that's why I'm okay with it. You respect me."

"I do respect you," Jake nods, keeping his eyes on the sand, "That's why I can't do this to you. I can't steal you away while you're young, while you could be out having fun. It doesn't matter what I want."

"I'd have fun with you," You urge, "Jake, I flew cross-country to see you! I have one week off of school, do you think I'd make the trip if I didn't want it?"

You can tell he's thinking about it. He's scared, you know he's scared of what people will say, what people will think, but you know he's right for you. He's kind, he's respectful, he's caring. You both deserve that, and you're more than happy to give it right back.

"Just.. try." You beg, centering yourself in the sand before him, "Please? Just for this week, and then if it doesn't work, we can stop."

He reaches out cautiously, and you melt into the feeling of his massive hands on your waist. They stay respectfully chaste, not too low on the fabric of your dress.

"You want this?" He confirms, eyes shining in the light of the moon.

"I want this," You nod vigorously, drilling it into his brain, "Do you want this?"

Finally, he seems to relax, weight lifted away from his broad shoulders when you promise him that he's what you want.

"I want this," He hums, leaning in to bump his nose into yours. The first kiss you share is beside the moonlit beach, as is the second, third, fourth, tallying up to an uncountable number. More are shared later, across the seats of his car, between pillows on his bed, and in the airport just before you leave, and each one takes your breath away. They leave you restless to finish out your semester and see him at your graduation, and a thousand more will later be exchanged in the comfort of your shared apartment.

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perfectsunlight · 1 year ago

Text

𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘

𝒇𝒕. 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆, 𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒋𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓. 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐲, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟑.𝟐𝐤

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲 - 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐨

eunchae remembered the first time she saw wonyoung on television.

izone was one of her favorite groups when she was younger. fiesta was her favorite song and she recalled just how badly she wanted to be an idol someday.

she would spend hours watching fancams and performances, mesmerized by wonyoung and the rest of the girls. sometimes eunchae wishes izone stayed as a group. maybe chaewon would be happier.

being an idol was hard, but being a trainee was even harder.

the grueling life of a trainee, with its endless hours of practice, sweat, and tears, often seemed like an insurmountable mountain. but in those moments of despair, when the weight of ambition threatened to crush her spirit, eunchae found solace in her idols.

she often wondered how wonyoung made it look so easy.

lacy, oh, lacy, skin like puff pastry

aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?

insecurity was a foreign feeling to hong eunchae. she knew she was more than capable of being an idol. as the youngest member of le sserafim, she knew that her spot in the lineup was not just a stroke of luck. it was a testament to her hard work and dedication.

despite all the challenges she and her fellow members went through, the young idol knew that le sserafim was a force to be reckoned with. she knew that despite her own age, she was more than qualified for a position in the group.

the first time eunchae doubted herself was when chaewon slipped up on a live with sakura and kazuha.

dear angel lacy, eyes white as daisies

did i ever tell you that i'm not doin' well?

“konnichiwa, izo–”

kim chaewon caught herself and immediately stopped speaking. sakura’s face fell for a split second at the realization of what her former izone member said before forcing a smile and saying the correct greeting.

of course, eunchae knew izone was always going to be a part of her leader and the eldest member’s past. it wasn’t something that would be erased.

but the young girl started to doubt the validity of her group at that moment. she questioned her worth, her abilities, and her very presence in le sserafim. it felt like chaewon was still longing for something she no longer had.

or rather, someone.

ooh, i care, i care, i care

like perfume that you wear, i linger all the time

watching, hidden in plain sight

“look, it’s yujin.” sakura whispered to chaewon, motioning with her eyes to the group of girls that had entered the room. ive and its leader, another former izone member, were making their way to their seats. eunchae would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a pit in her stomach at the smile that formed on chaewon’s lips when she saw wonyoung.

it was a smile that spoke volumes, a silent reminder that jang wonyoung was more than just an idol – she was family.

“ah,” the japanese girl sighed softly. “wonyoung’s all grown up.” sakura's whispered words, filled with both nostalgia and a touch of wistfulness, only deepened the pit in eunchae's stomach. the leader next to her nodded absentmindedly.

“i know. she’s not my maknae anymore.”

my maknae.

oh how that small phrase burned a hole in the young girl’s chest. the term was once a term of endearment, something that chaewon always called her.

now it just echoed in her mind like a painful reminder of her place in the hierarchy of her leader’s heart.

she poked the inside of her cheek and stared at her folded hands in her own lap. despite sitting amidst her fellow idols, eunchae felt like an outsider peering into a world she could never truly be a part of.

she bit her lip, fighting against the surge of emotions threatening to engulf her. she couldn’t be sure whether her unease stemmed from the shifting dynamics among her former group members or from the unsettling realization that her position within the group might not be as secure as she had once believed.

eunchae's eyes flickered back to chaewon, whose gaze remained fixed on wonyoung as if captivated by an unspoken connection that stretched beyond the confines of words.

the way chaewon's smile softened, her eyes glowing with a mixture of pride and longing, cut through eunchae like a knife.

it was a smile meant for a cherished younger sister, a smile that belonged to someone else. someone who had once held the title of chaewon’s maknae. a knot tightened in eunchae's throat, and she clenched her hands into fists to quell the rising turmoil within her.

despite the undeniable talent and potential that had secured her a spot in le sserafim, the presence of her illustrious seniors, both past and present, weighed heavily on her young shoulders.

ooh, i try, i try, i try

but it takes over my life, i see you everywhere

the sweetest torture one could bear

hong eunchae’s daily screen time was averaging around 10 hours. 75% of that time was spent on looking at wonyoung. or rather, comparing herself to wonyoung.

her fingertips danced over the glass, scrolling through images, videos, and social media posts that showcased wonyoung's charisma and talent. each swipe brought a mix of fascination and self-doubt, as if she were willingly subjecting herself to a torturous cycle of comparison.

the effortless grace with which wonyoung carried herself, the way her smile seemed to light up even the darkest corners of the screen – it was all a constant reminder of the standards she felt she had to meet.

eunchae, despite her own remarkable abilities, couldn't help but measure herself against this unattainable ideal.

the more she looked, the more the lines between admiration and envy blurred, leaving her trapped in a cycle of insecurity.

it also didn’t help that wonyoung’s face was practically everywhere. the girl was being casted in commercials, plastered on the covers of magazines, and dominating television screens with her charismatic presence.

everywhere eunchae turned, there was wonyoung.

the constant exposure amplified eunchae's feelings of inadequacy, as if the world itself were conspiring to remind her of the gap between her dreams and her reality. even as she closed her eyes at night, wonyoung's image lingered, an uninvited guest in her thoughts. in her dreams, eunchae found herself shadowing the footsteps of her idol, trying to mimic every gesture and expression.

it was as if she were living a fractured version of her life, a relentless pursuit of a mirage she could never truly catch.

the true cracks in the glass began showing when eunchae met wonyoung for the first time.

smart, sexy lacy, i'm losin' it lately

i feel your compliments like bullets on skin

chaewon laughed as she leaned over and hugged wonyoung tightly. eunchae stood next to her leader, her hands clasped tightly, trying to conceal the tremor that ran through her fingers. the moment hung in the air like a fragile thread, as if the universe itself held its breath, waiting to see how this encounter would unfold. wonyoung's presence was magnetic, drawing everyone in with an effortless charm that seemed to defy the laws of gravity. her voice felt stuck in her throat, unable to form the words she longed to say.

compliments that should have flown freely, expressing her admiration for the girl who had once been her beacon of inspiration, now felt like shards of glass, cutting her from the inside.

as chaewon and wonyoung exchanged pleasantries, eunchae's smile wavered, her eyes momentarily clouded with uncertainty. it was a subtle shift, one that might have gone unnoticed by others but not by her leader. chaewon, perceptive as always, sensed the inner battle raging within her youngest member.

sensing eunchae's hesitation, the le sserafim leader gently nudged her forward, as if encouraging her to step into the spotlight. the young girl took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage she had left. “um, wonyoung sunbaenim, it's truly an honor to meet you,” she managed to say, her voice quivering ever so slightly.

the moment wonyoung’s eyes met hers, eunchae wanted to throw up.

when the taller girl spoke, her words were laced with a sincerity that cut through eunchae's defenses like a blade. “thank you,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of genuine appreciation. “i've seen a lot of your performances. unnie speaks highly of your group, you are all hard workers.”

wony’s praise, genuine and unfiltered, hung in the air like a double-edged sword. to any other listener, her words might have been a beacon of validation, but to eunchae, they were a reminder of the expectations now etched into her skin.

her throat tightened, and she forced herself to swallow the lump that seemed lodged there, trying to respond with a gracious smile. “thank you,” eunchae managed, her voice barely above a whisper. her words felt inadequate, drowned out by the cacophony of her internal struggles.

in that moment, she realized the weight of admiration was a double burden. it was building her up to knock her down.

the praise that was meant to inspire now felt like an anchor, chaining her to a pedestal she was not sure she could stand on. beside her, chaewon's grip tightened on her shoulder, a silent reassurance that felt both grounding and suffocating. eunchae wished she could voice her fears, her doubts, but the words remained lodged in her throat, silenced by the fear of exposing her vulnerability.

the ive member’s smile never wavered, but her eyes, so full of wisdom beyond her years, seemed to see through the façade eunchae wore. it was a gaze that felt like an x-ray, peeling away the layers of her self-doubt and revealing the raw, unvarnished truth beneath.

the room buzzed with conversation around them, but in that moment, eunchae felt like she was standing in the eye of a storm, where the world was still, and only her internal turmoil raged on.

dazzling starlet, bardot reincarnate

well, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist?

wonyuong was all anyone ever talked about. she was the perfect example of everything anyone ever wanted to be. and hong eunchae couldn’t feel any less inadequate.

everywhere eunchae turned, it seemed, there was a whisper of wonyoung's name, a fluttering echo of her successes that permeated the air. magazines showcased her flawless smile, billboards displayed her commanding presence, and social media platforms buzzed with her fans' adoration.

wonyoung was not just an idol; she was an icon, a living embodiment of dreams realized. she was the epitome of grace, talent, and beauty – everything anyone ever aspired to become.

chaewon’s birthday was coming up, and the young girl wanted to make her a nice card. she spent 3 days cutting, gluing, and coloring together the perfect card for her leader.

when she finally showed chaewon, she felt proud of herself. and it would have been a perfect moment if not for the comment that she said.

“ah, this reminds me of when wonyoung used to make cards like this. you remember that?” chaewon said towards sakura, reminiscing on the past and lingering on the only girl who made eunchae feel everything she wasn’t. the japanese girl cooed at the remark and nodded her head, agreeing silently with the former izone member.

eunchae knew her leader meant well, and it wasn’t a jab at her in any way directly, but she felt like she was invisible.

eunchae's heart sank at chaewon's innocent remark, the joy of her accomplishment instantly overshadowed by a wave of insecurity. the compliment meant to lift her spirits now felt like a cruel twist of fate, a reminder of the constant comparison that loomed over her, even in moments of genuine connection.

for the following days, eunchae found herself haunted by that moment. the specter of wonyoung's achievements seemed to follow her everywhere, even into the sanctuary of her practice room. the movements that had once flowed effortlessly became stilted, the melodies that used to inspire her now carried a bitter undertone. doubt, like an unwelcome companion, whispered in her ear, casting shadows on her every step. desperate to break free from this suffocating cycle, eunchae immersed herself in her training.

the practice studio became her refuge, the place where she could pour her frustrations into every movement.

she practiced until her muscles ached and her breaths came in ragged gasps, hoping that with enough dedication, she could drown out the cacophony of comparison that echoed in her mind. yet, even in the midst of her determined efforts, the memory of chaewon's unintentional remark lingered, an invisible barrier between her and the confidence she so desperately sought.

she felt like she was trapped in a never-ending loop, unable to escape the cycle of insecurity that threatened to consume her.

but there was nothing that eunchae wanted more than to be her own person in the eyes of the leader she admired so much.

ooh, i care, i care, i care

like ribbons in your hair, my stomach's all in knots

you got the one thing that i want

everything eunchae did seemed to only cement herself deeper into the shadow of jang wonyoung.

in the following weeks, eunchae became acutely aware of the seemingly insurmountable chasm that separated her from wonyoung. every accomplishment, every effort to shine, only served to highlight the gap between them. despite her best attempts, the world around her continued to echo with wonyoung's name, a constant reminder of the impossible standards she was expected to meet.

even within the confines of le sserafim, eunchae found herself walking on a tightrope of comparison. her every move, every note she sang, was scrutinized against the backdrop of wonyoung's flawless performances. the praise she received, though genuine, felt like a reluctant acknowledgment. even in the practice room, where she had once felt the most liberated, the young idol now felt even more of the weight of expectation pressing down on her shoulders.

each dance move became a battleground, a chance to prove herself, to show that she was more than just a shadow of someone else's brilliance. yet, the more she pushed, the more she seemed to stumble, the movements losing their fluidity and grace under the weight of her insecurities.

what did she bring to the table that was truly hers? what made her unique? what made her special?

what made her different from jang wonyoung?

“manchae?”

chaewon’s soft voice rang out, snapping the young girl from her thoughts as she entered the practice room. it was 3 in the morning.

“unnie.” eunchae said, bowing in the direction of her leader. “you’re up late.” the leader added, walking over to the younger girl with a worried look on her face. “everything okay?”

the younger girl forced a smile and nodded. “i just want to make sure i have the dance break down.”

“i think you know it better than anyone at this point.” the older girl chuckled, gently patting the maknae’s head. “you should get some sleep soon.”

eunchae appreciated chaewon's concern, her leader's presence providing a comforting reassurance amidst the late-night silence of the practice room. the gentle pat on her head felt like a touch of understanding, a reminder that she wasn't alone in her relentless pursuit of perfection.

“i just want to make sure i get it right,” manchae said, her voice a soft murmur, filled with determination. “i want to be the best out there.” the leader’s eyes softened, her gaze reflecting a mix of admiration and concern for her youngest member. she took a step closer, her hand resting on eunchae's shoulder, grounding her with a touch that felt like a lifeline.

“eunbi unnie told me this before, and i’ll tell you it too. i even told wonyoung this.” chaewon leaned down to be level with the youngest member.

“you cannot perform the best, without even a little bit of rest.”

there it was again. the sinking feeling, that anything eunchae did or heard, was just a reminder of wonyoung.

she wondered if wonyoung ever heard the leader say she’s told her the same things. why did it always have to be the other way around?

ooh, i try, i try, i try

try to rationalize, people are people, but

it's like you're made of angel dust

“but i can rest after our performance.” eunchae pushed lightly, motioning with her hands for emphasis. “that way i can know my rest is well earned.” chaewon chuckled softly, mentally noting how similar eunchae’s attitude was to wonyoung’s all that time ago. “you’re more stubborn than my last maknae.” she teased lightly, gently pushing the younger girl’s shoulder.

of course wonyoung took advice from her leaders. of course wonyoung would rest when told to. of course she did everything right.

unlike her sunbae, eunchae seemed to only do everything wrong.

the teasing words resonated in eunchae's mind, sparking a sharper pang of insecurity that she thought she had somewhat buried. as she watched her leader's retreating figure, a wave of self-doubt washed over her. the comparison to wonyoung, meant in jest, felt like a spotlight highlighting her perceived shortcomings.

once again, she was reminded of her place.

lacy, oh, lacy, it's like you're out to get me

you poison every little thing that i do

lacy, oh, lacy, i just loathe you lately

and i despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

in the quiet, the room seemed to close in on her, the mirrors reflecting back an image she didn't recognize. the young girl who had once dreamed of being an idol, who had once danced with joy and passion, felt like a distant memory.

now, in her place, stood a girl burdened by the shadow of comparison, questioning her every move, her every decision.

she found herself spiraling into a cycle of negative thoughts, each one a barb digging deeper into her confidence.

“maybe i'm just not cut out for this,” she whispered to the empty room, her voice barely audible above the distant hum of the air conditioning unit.

wonyoung was someone she once idolized. she was someone she looked up to and wanted to be exactly like.

was it wrong to say that she despised the girl now?

all she ever wanted was to be like wonyoung. and to hold a special place in her leader’s heart. but it seemed like she could do neither.

the question gnawed at her soul – what had she done wrong? why couldn't she be the person chaewon admired so deeply, the way she admired wonyoung? the uncertainty clawed at her, leaving her with a sense of isolation that cut deeper than any criticism from the outside world.

she wiped her watery eyes with the end of her sleeves. she was so caught up in her head that she didn’t realize the tears cascading down her face. as she gazed into her own eyes, red and puffy from crying, she finally admitted defeat.

hong eunchae would never be jang wonyoung.

but maybe that was okay, even if right now it didn’t feel that way.

yeah, i despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

a/n: this is my first fic that isn't an x reader...but i hope u guys like it :)

#eunchae #chaewon #wonyoung #izone #lesserafim #angst oneshot #lesserafim oneshot #izone oneshot #lacy olivia rodrigo #perfectsunlight

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