#yeah it’s really been a while I’m sorry
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Halftime
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: A chance meeting a week before Thanksgiving leaves you and your dad’s best friend to handle your feelings the only way you know how: fucking on the couch when your dad falls asleep during the game.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Age gap. Soft dom!Joel. Daddy kink. Praise kink (!) Makeup sex. Pussy pronouns.
Note: ‘Or maybe on a fifty yard line watchin’ Bama beat the hell out of Tennessee’ is a line from Riley Green’s ‘Hell of a Way to Go.’ I was in Knoxville when we played this year, but in my fic, Alabama wins. If you’re a Vols fan, I’m sorry. And RMFT.
Word count: 10.5k
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Guilt brought you home, and liquor helped you stay.
These were two of the shittiest things a daughter could admit, but the fact was that you simply wouldn’t be here if your dad hadn’t broken his leg at work last week. That you wanted to help, but your patience was thin, and the only way you knew how to reconcile the two was to drink. A lot. Friday you came home, and by midday Saturday, sometime around eleven or twelve, you were plastered.
Staggering up the front steps of your childhood home with Theresa Servopoulos—newfound friend from camp and the heaviest drinker you’d met in a long, long time—hot on your heels. You’d just had brunch, and the meal was mostly liquid. Bottomless mimosas had been Frank’s idea, and when his husband Bill had offered to be the DD after the fact, you’d had no choice but to accept, really. You drank your weight in citrus and champagne and spent the whole morning getting to know Tess’s friends. As your state of intoxication progressed, you’d told them your troubles and all that had been plaguing you lately.
Now, hours later, you didn’t want to think at all.
You wanted to sit your ass down on the couch, turn the TV on to Disney+, and spend the next three to thirteen more binging Star Wars spin-offs and discussing with Tess at length whether Katee Sackhoff or Timothy Olyphant was the more fuckable supporting actor.
“Honestly…I’d let Jabba the Hutt hit,” you confessed, slurring your words a little as you fumbled for your key.
“You’re fucking lying,” Tess half-groaned, half-laughed.
She watched you try and jam metal into metal and fail twice before steeling herself against a rocking chair and reaching out her hand. You waved it away. At a distance, you heard the hum of an engine and another voice, loud:
“You ladies need a little help over there or wha-at?”
That was Frank. He was arguably the most drunk out of the three of you and hanging his handsome, greying head out of the passenger side of Bill’s Chevy S-10. He’d seen you try and fail with the key, too, and seemed more eager than ever to lend a hand, while his husband was likely kicking himself for ever offering to drive you back.
Tess gripped the porch chair harder and gestured, dazed.
“Give her a minute, she’s—” She hiccuped once. “—intelligent and entirely capable. She’s got this, OK?”
You didn’t. You really didn’t. And by the way you were finessing this key you didn’t feel too fucking smart either. You crammed your key against the tight, rigid slot in the front door of your home, missed it completely, and then wondered, dimly, how men were able to aim their dicks.
How Joel ever managed to fit that massive, throbbing—
“Fuck!” you cursed, kicking the doorframe with a huff.
The periphery of your vision was spinning and swimming a little now, and before you knew it, Tess had snatched your keychain from out of your hand. She got to work.
And while she did, you turned back to Bill and Frank, whose truck was still idling quietly in your driveway.
Frank had an eyebrow raised. His chin was in his palm, and his elbow was planted in the car’s open window. With that look alone, you knew what he wanted to say.
“Fine…fine,” you capitulated in a loud, droning shout. Head spinning, “You can give him my fucking number.”
Frank grinned at that.
“No shit?” he yelled back.
“Yeah. I really am that horny.”
From somewhere in the car, Bill groaned his disapproval. Frank’s smile only widened. It’d been his idea to set you up with one of their neighbors after you’d divulged all of your dating life turmoils over eggs benedict and grits that morning—how fucking your dad’s best friend had, in fact, not been the wisest decision and you needed something new to get your mind off the man for a little while. Frank had been all too happy to offer supplying your number to the so-called ‘dreamboat’ next door to them. Initially, you’d brushed it off, but the longer you stood on this porch contemplating the hellish few days you’d be spending at home for Thanksgiving, the more you drunkenly reasoned a dick might do you some good.
And if it wasn’t from Joel Miller, even better. You leaned against the nearest porch column and pointed at Frank.
Then at Bill, squinting dumbly and faux-accusingly.
“I’m desperate, but I’m trusting y’all, too, alright?”
You wanted to get fucked, not fucked over, again. Frank seemed to understand right away and nodded his head.
“I’ll give him your number, tell him you’re hot—which you are—and you two can work something out. It’ll be fine.”
He pointed back at you, still smiling, and you hoped it would be. Behind you, Tess had solved the puzzle of the chrome-plated house key, and had thrust the door open. She stumbled inside, and your feet started to follow hers.
“Tell Tess to text us your number!” Frank had to cup his hands saying it, as Bill was already starting to pull away.
You nodded and waved. Watched the world veer sideways and your kind, considerate, hammered new friend-of-a-friend repeat how great this was going to be—this guy’ll do you so good you’ll forget Joel exists—while you backed into the house. A gust of warm air from inside pricked at your skin, and along with that touch came the tiniest trace of hope. A sanguine sort of warmth that twisted low in your gut and made you smile.
And cup your hands, as Frank had, while calling to him:
“How old is Mr. Dreamboat, anyway?!”
The truck was crunching its ways down the gravel drive. Its path was slow, though, and Frank’s voice was clear.
“FORTY-ONE!”
It was as though you were hearing those words in a dream. You almost couldn’t help what you said next.
Fanning yourself, you yelled back, “I lo-o-o-ve that!”
“What?!”
Frank hadn’t heard you. They were farther away now.
You had to practically scream it now, but you were drunk enough that you didn’t really care. Tess was entertained, half-hunched on the floor and trying to work off her shoes while she laughed at this stupid exchange.
In truth, it didn’t matter how loud you yelled, because you lived on several dozen acres of land, and your dad wasn’t home. He’d told you that he was hitching a ride with Tommy to their usual weekend haunt to watch the Alabama-Tennessee game, and it started an hour ago. The house was empty, and you were free to screech.
“I said, ‘I love that’!”
“Yeah? Love what?!”
Frank was hanging halfway out of the passenger window by now, and his face was flushed with moronic humor.
Bill was probably grinding his teeth together as he drove.
“O-O-O-OLD MEN!” you shrilled, as loud as you could.
Next thing you knew, Tess was on the floor. Wheezing.
It didn’t matter whether Frank could hear you now; evidently, he’d gotten the message. Their truck was crawling down your drive with a low, rumbling crackle, and the eyes that were still glued to yours were shining.
Before they turned out of sight, Frank waved again and blew you a kiss, as you and Tess had done to him at some point earlier that day. He slipped back into the car, and your sides were nearly aching from how hard you were giggling—nothing was even that particularly funny, but with a nice noontime buzz and Tess’s relentless cackling from across the foyer, you couldn’t help it. You shut the door, staggered over, and were about to drop.
Right when you were about to collapse, though, Tess wobbled up. You saw her raise two hands in front of her.
“I’m— I’m gonna pee…or puke…possibly,” she warned.
That wasn’t good.
You pointed up.
“First door on your left. Do you need any—”
But Tess was already staggering off. You might’ve laughed again, and trailed after her with a plea to try not to projectile vomit all over those nice festive towels your dad had bought, but the moment came and went quick. In fact, it wasn’t even brought to an end by your friend’s departure but rather the screech of her feet on the floor.
Nearly tripping over herself to leave, then crashing into something else before she could. You heard a thwack.
Then her huff, ‘Fuck. Sorry!’ And you turned.
You looked up and cursed.
Again, you felt like you might be in a dream. Only this time, the sight had more of a nightmarish hue, and you had only to grip the edge of a chair—no, a table, a side table—beside you in the hall to keep yourself upright.
Your sweet, sloppy-drunk friend had run straight into Joel. She was raising her hands again and saying sorry.
You could tell she meant it, too. She was just shaking her head, appearing to try and rid herself of the stunned, dumbfounded feelings, when she tilted her chin up.
Then, somehow even brighter, she smiled in recognition.
“Lucien Flores!”
Not missing a beat, like you knew she wouldn’t:
“You fucking prick.”
Of course she was sober enough to remember his face. The time she’d mistaken him for an uptight FEDRA counselor back at camp. How you’d fucked him on her bunk. All the shit-talking you’d been doing about him since, too. You knew she wasn’t a woman to mince words, so it didn’t surprise you in the slightest when next she placed a hand on his pec, patted it lightly and added:
“You’re an asshole. A spineless, slimy, sad sack of shit.”
Joel blinked as she walked past him, toward the stairs.
“Good to see you, too, Tess.”
“Eat shit and die.”
“Theresa.”
You hadn’t even meant to say the last aloud; it just came out. Tess was holding the rail, going slow but determined to get upstairs without losing her food all over the floor.
The next thing you heard was the slam of the bathroom door. You winced and thought of your dad’s decorative towels a moment. That thought was then supplanted by another, though you pretended not to feel it, at least outwardly. You brushed past Joel to go to the kitchen.
Why was he here? He surely wouldn’t have come unless your father was there, and your dad was supposed to be watching the Vols take the ass-beating of a lifetime from the Tide. Or maybe vice-versa. You weren’t sure how the latter was doing since Saban retired. You rubbed one temple as you opened a cabinet and looked for a glass.
Reconsidering, you opted for a plastic cup instead.
Your head was throbbing as you walked to the sink.
You sensed you likely weren’t of a mind to be holding anything fragile, and the second that followed only proved it. A footfall sounded by the kitchen island, and you flinched, dropping your cup like a fucking idiot.
“Where’s my dad?” you blurted out, not thinking.
You didn’t want his voice to be the first to fill the silence. You picked your cup off the floor and turned on the tap.
More silence followed. You couldn’t be sure if it was your own drunken paranoia or a genuine feeling of two eyes on your back, but your skin bristled. You were prepared to pose the question again when your answer came in the form of a new sound: not Joel’s voice, but another’s.
An announcer, apparently. You turned your head and saw ESPN on the living room TV, where the game was playing. In front of the screen, your dad was supine on his recliner. His jaw hung slack, and his eyes were shut.
So much for those morning beers with Tommy.
His leg was armored with a boot: a real, no-bullshit cast meant to protect the tibia he’d shattered, propped up in front of him while the other dangled haphazardly from the chair. You watched him, feeling an odd mix of pity, nausea, and love, and for a second, you didn’t think to move. This man was the reason you were home, after all—and why Joel was, too. You almost forgot your anger.
Your cup was full. Overflowing. You turned off the sink, then poured what excess you could as your hand shook.
You shouldn’t have been holding anything in that moment, off-kilter and unnerved as you were, but you wanted to seem occupied. You inhaled and started past Joel again, who was leaning against the counter, quiet.
He still didn’t talk, and let you stroll about half a foot in front of him before you felt the cup lift out of your hand.
“Hey—” you started.
But Joel was resuming your path before you could finish. He’d snagged the water from your grasp and made his way out of the kitchen, calmly, and you didn’t have to ask to know where he was going. You felt a pang of rekindled resentment but said nothing, knowing that was useless.
Arrogant motherfucker. Patronizing asshole. Clearly, you couldn’t be trusted to carry a cup of fucking water up the stairs in your own home, so he had had to do it for you. You went over to your father in the living room, blinking through a dozen more pissed off thoughts, when you glanced down at one of your hands again. You winced.
Stop shaking.
You needed to stay busy. Make use of those dumb, trembling hands while Joel was here and not let him see that it was all from memories of him—not the mimosas—that you couldn’t keep a steady hold to save your life.
You started to clean, mindlessly. Cleared the old coffee table of its manifold beer cans and plates of stale pizza. You walked with an unsteady gait, the room still tilting a little, but you ended up getting a decent amount cradled in your arms and into the trash or the sink shortly after.
You had just taken a bite of a slice of pepperoni and made a face when your dad shifted in his seat, letting out a grunt. Still unconscious, he rubbed at his arms. The house around him was warm, but never quite enough for a man who appeared to have been born cold-blooded. After years of this, you knew the routine; you dropped your pizza, went to the thermostat, and cranked it to 75.
Less than a minute later, it came: “Boiling us alive, huh?”
It was the first you’d heard from Joel since he spoke his curt greeting to Tess. You were over by the closet getting a blanket, and Joel was stood in the doorway, frowning.
You turned, holding up the big wool throw for him to see before you went back over to your dad in the recliner.
“He needs it,” you replied, gaze averted.
“By ‘it’ you mean his electric bill gone through the roof?”
He could be such a father sometimes. The worst kind.
“No, keeping him fucking warm, Joel.”
And the end of the last sentence you hadn’t meant to be so loud. Or mean. You didn’t really care whether it offended him, but the thought of waking your dad to hear that—being rude to your ‘Uncle Joel,’ as your dad had so innocently called the man last month—was awful. You squinted seeing him stir under the blanket, but then he turned to the side and snored even louder. You sighed.
“Doctor’s got him on some heavy painkillers. He’s been out since before the last game even ended,” Joel said.
You glanced at the TV. The game was crawling to halftime at a snail’s pace, by the looks of it. You smiled, seeing those puke-pumpkin-hued fucks getting smoked. In a second, though, the curve of your lips was fading.
“Will you stop?”
Your voice was shrill. You hurried over to Joel, who was busy dicking around with the thermostat and trying to get it down to 68 degrees—freezing, in your dad’s mind.
“It’s too hot.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You’re being—”
“This isn’t your fuckin’ house, Miller! Quit!”
“Yell a little louder, why don’t y—” Joel began to scold.
You wouldn’t let him. Of all things to get on your ass about now, volume wasn’t the hill he’d die on today. Before you even realized what you two were doing, you shoulder-checked him like you might do an annoying brother, and his arm wound swiftly around your front. It didn’t hurt, but it sure as hell made you mad to be held.
You made a jab at Joel’s ribs and ignored the grunt from him. Anger was a natural defense—your default state.
Every last semi-tranquil encounter you’d shared with someone you cared about before was always marred by rage at some point, and with Joel, it came as easy as breathing. If you weren’t tearing each other’s clothes off, you were ripping him a new one, or he was grating your nerves. You didn’t get along, and you likely never would.
That didn’t mean there wasn’t need there somewhere. You just smothered it with something hostile, constantly.
You wished it would go away. You shoved at his arm.
“You’re gonna wake him,” you hissed, strained.
“Yeah? That’s what you’re worried about?”
You wriggled against Joel’s hold and, scrunching your nose, made a pass for the dial on the wall. He caught it.
Now he was holding your hand in one of his, and your shoulder with the other as his forearm crossed your chest. Joel’s frame was looming over yours, and you glared ahead of you, where the screen still read ‘68.’
You could throttle him—Joel Miller simply refused to lose
“Is that all you’ve gotta say to me, after this whole time?”
His breaths were tight like yours, but the voice was slow.
“What else is there to say?” you snapped.
“You’ve been ignoring me all month.”
“I’m in college. I have shit to do.”
“Like block all of my calls?”
“Go fuck yourself, Joel.”
“Just tell me why.”
“Fuck. You.”
Your last two caustic words were still warm on your tongue when Joel turned you around. Again, he wasn’t forceful or harsh—your looks had enough vitriol for the two of you—but he pushed your body against the wall. Right beside the thermostat, your spine straightened, and your legs wrapped reflexively around his waist.
“Is that an invitation?” he hummed, voice palpably lower.
Un-fucking-believable, you thought. Of course, it was.
Silently, you prided yourself in wearing a dress that day. It wasn’t the short, red-and-white gingham thing you’d worn to the fair with Joel last month, but it was loose. Flowing. Easy enough for him to hike up your legs, sliding a coarse, warm palm up your thigh while the other held you tight to the wall. His hips pinned yours, and with that gesture, you felt him hard and desperate in denim.
“Need me to fuck you now or what? Is that the only way I’m getting a word out of this mouth?” he pressed again.
Honestly, it was. You nodded once to say as much.
Then he pushed you harder against the wall. He wrestled with his jeans just enough for you to hear a belt, and a button, and a short, sharp zip come down, and your mind was swimming with filthy ideas when he grunted.
Joel nosed your cheek, and a hand made its way to your mouth. You sucked in a breath right before you felt three fingertips graze the seam of your lips. Prying them open.
“If I’m fucking you here, I need more than a nod, kid.”
You really, really hated him now. This felt like a game. His index curled into your bottom teeth and pulled your mouth open wider, while his own was smiling, faintly. It was hard to talk with his fingers skirting your tongue—his warm, bare member springing out and grazing your folds through your panties down below—but you tried.
Your words were muffled as you spoke, “Please fuck me.”
Clearly, that was all Joel needed. With an easy nudge from the head of his cock, he pushed your underwear to the side, and his grin got bigger when he felt you soaked.
You were drooling down his length, and he hadn’t so much as touched you before he pushed you up against his body. It felt almost shameful as he slid himself inside.
Then, in the next moment, your brain went blank. Your bodies were joined completely, and Joel had you seated all the way down to the base of his cock, where a tuft of salt-and-pepper hair tickled your skin. His fingers hung limply from your lips while he nestled in; when you groaned, he used his middle and index to stifle the noise.
“Shh, hey—” he started, as if suddenly remembering where he was, and whose daughter he was fucking, “You’re okay. You’re good…I know that feels good.”
You despised him even more when he was right. He pressed the heft of his belly into you, and with the friction, you couldn’t help but whimper against his hand.
“Fuck you,” you bit again, this time through fingers.
“I am.”
Then he pushed them in further, and he made you suck. Joel started fucking you gently against the wall, and with the first few strokes, you knew you’d be putty soon enough. You focused on feeling and trying not to whine.
“I’ve been texting,” Joel continued, breath labored, sounding half-crazed, “Calling every chance I got—”
He paused to jerk his hips harder. Make you bounce on his cock or maybe just hold him closer from the force of it. And you did, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and reluctantly burying your face into the side.
He was familiar, that was for sure. You tensed seeing something else familiar—your dad in the next room—and preemptively swallowed a moan while Joel kept going.
Fucking you stupid and talking to you, per usual.
“—to make sure you were OK,” he finished, panting.
Pulling his fingers from your lips so you could answer:
“I’m fine.”
“Are we?”
“You lied to me!”
And no sooner had he retracted his hand that he needed to clamp his palm over your mouth. You’d said that loud.
In the next room over, through the open space between the kitchen and the den, you heard your dad snore softly. When your gaze flitted back to Joel’s, it was like you were chiding the other at once—whose idea was this, anyway? Slowly, he moved his hand down, but his gaze was stern.
“Didn’t mean to lie,” Joel answered, now lower than ever.
“But you did. Dad’s been fucking his old sidepiece, my mom’s best friend, and you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was my place—”
“Your place?!” You made sure to keep your indignation hushed this time, but your eyes went wide. Incredulous.
You would’ve shoved Joel off if he hadn’t moved first. Neither one of you had had a fraction of the presence of mind to be thinking straight here, obviously, so when he carried you closer to a table in an adjoining room, all you were thinking was how not to lose your cool completely. When Joel tried to set you down on the wooden surface, you slipped away. You moved to the couch; you weren’t even considering where you were going, just that you wanted more of him, and you needed to be done quick.
If that meant fucking on the sofa behind your dad’s recliner, so be it. Joel balked a second before following.
“Are you…?” he started, voice no louder than a whisper.
“What? Not your ‘place’ here, either?” you shot back.
Admittedly, you were both insane. No matter how far away your dad’s sleeping form happened to be, or how thoroughly knocked out he appeared from the drugs, this was batshit, objectively. Joel’s eyes narrowed at you.
Then he moved some more. Casting a sidelong glance at the recliner less than ten feet away, he gripped himself and gave you a look as if to say, ‘Are we crazy now, or…?’
You nodded to confirm that you were.
By moving again, apparently, Joel was saying the same.
Except now it wasn’t with words but with a look—eyeing you hungrily and setting all rational, sane thought aside to climb over the couch to you. Your legs were spread.
Joel slotted himself quickly between them, then inside you, without another word. His body crowded yours. The scent you knew was also the fragrance you hated most: the smell of his American Spirits. He tried to kiss you with those lips, and you dodged them, choosing instead to hold the coarse greyish hairs at the nape of his neck and pull them. Draw him closer to your body without letting him get too close to you. Joel let out a grunt.
His hips rutted in short, quick, shallow motions again, like he was desperate to feel anything. When you wouldn’t accept his lips on yours, they fell to the side of your face. He held your sides while he dragged his cock in and out of your pulsing heat, and his breaths fanned heavy on your cheek. His stubble was sharp on your skin.
“Anything you want,” he huffed shortly.
His mouth was right by your ear, and his words were spoken in a breath. And another. And another. Still panting and dragging his old, weary hips back and forth in an effort to pleasure you. He felt indescribably good.
“Want…what?” you murmured back.
You clawed at his torso and locked your legs around his waist. You glanced over at the recliner, turned away from the couch, thankfully, and hoped it wouldn’t move again. Your dad’s breaths were deep, and so was Joel inside you
Sliding a hand under your head and cradling your body to his, and still maintaining a bruising pace with his cock—you almost couldn’t take it. You wanted to come undone.
And there Joel went, murmuring in your ear. Battling the urge not to get too loud with your father there, but still:
“I’ll do anything…anything you want.”
“W-Why? For what?”
“To say I’m sorry.”
“You don’t—”
But your words were cut short. For a second, your heart leapt into your throat thinking the sound was coming from your dad’s old chair, and then you realized that it wasn’t. Just the same, your terror spiked again when you sensed it was somewhere inside—coming from the back.
“Can I get a…ROLL TIDE?!” someone yelled.
Tommy Miller wasn’t even an Alabama fan.
Still, it seemed he was here to celebrate like one anyway. You froze momentarily, taking in the shout, then the steps, then the linoleum floor of the mud room being shuffled across before the boots were kicked off quick.
His brother was quicker. Joel climbed off of you in a blink, jeans and boxers trailing just as fast. Then his hands were dropping to you, gripping your arms, and heaving you up. You stumbled. You shoved your skirt down, fast, and barely had the time to breathe while you skittered after Joel, still in his hold. The two of you ran like hell: quiet, but like your asses might’ve been on fire. You made it out to the foyer, and from there, you could hear Tommy making a fuss in the kitchen. Joel strode three steps at a time going up the stairs, and behind him, you nearly face-planted. He tugged you up then, swiftly.
Silent as death at the top of the stairs and trying to usher you into a room, not saying a word. You dug in your heels
“Wait. Wait—Tess?”
“Napping in the tub.”
Of course. You cast one last pensive look at the bathroom door before you let Joel nudge you away.
You were pushed into a room; you knew it was yours. Steeped as you were in fear, shame, and lingering inebriation, you couldn’t waste a second getting in—and neither could Joel. His frame followed close while Tommy’s old, familiar sounds grew louder downstairs. He ushered you further, walked you forward, pushed you in an inch or two too far, and before you knew it, your knees were bumping along the front of your bed. You tripped.
Your hands flew out to break your fall. Unfortunately, the limbs that were meant to stay straight were weaker than you’d hoped, and instead of holding you up, they crumpled beneath your weight. You fell on your face.
The spot where you landed was soft, though.
You let out a muffled grunt into cotton sheets.
Across from where you lay, Joel’s steps were slow—painstakingly so—and when you’d propped yourself up and blinked again and again to adjust your eyes to the dim half-light of the room, you could see him there. Pacing. Skating a look to the doorknob, as if checking to make sure he’d locked the thing properly, then running a hand through his hair. From your perch, you saw a wince.
Then his face turned to you. Again—guilty.
What the fuck am I doing here with you?
That was what you thought you saw in his expression, anyway. You felt compelled to ask him the very same.
“Why are you here? Why is Tommy here?” As if to punctuate your question, more footfalls followed, loud, “I thought he was taking my dad to the bar. And you—”
“I know. He was supposed to. Then he texted and said your dad crashed before the Notre Dame game even ended, so he figured he’d head over to the bar himself.”
You were about to speak, but Joel continued.
“I said he was an idiot to leave your dad home alone, since the man can hardly walk on his own. So I came.”
You swallowed. While some momentary swell of gratitude threatened to constrict your throat, you forced out a frown and scooted back. The room swayed a little.
“That the only reason?” you asked, clipped.
At the foot of the bed, Joel held your gaze. It was stern. Your own vacillating look was no match for the man who, in spite of the two or ten beers he’d likely guzzled that morning, could stand firm. Prop his hands on his hips.
Look every bit the displeased fatherly figure while he watched you crawl across the plush, pink bed at length.
It wasn’t right. You saw it in his eyes: the want painted there, however burdened by shame they might’ve been. No doubt seeing your childhood bedroom had kicked the guilt into overdrive, reminding him, plainly, that he was his age, and you were yours. And his best friend’s kid. The irises that shone in the glow of warm white fairy lights overhead flitted to the canopy where they hung. Joel sized up the mesh overtaking most of your bed, all flowing and girlish and juvenile as it cascaded from the four wooden posters, and he had to shake his head. He blinked faster, as if trying to rid himself of some thought.
“I’ll go,” he choked out.
“Alright.”
You unzipped your dress and let it fall to the bed the second Joel had started to turn. He stopped. Got himself an eyeful and probably could’ve bruised every fingertip from how hard he tightened his grip along his belt loops.
He watched you slip out of the fabric, then brush it aside. Clothed in just your bra and panties, you went to the nightstand and opened a drawer. You leaned down.
And, while you kneeled and bent over to reach, Joel was afforded a too-perfect view of the wet patch in the fabric between your legs. You could’ve sworn you heard a groan before you crawled back over to the place where you’d been—American Spirits and a lighter now in your hand.
“Where’d you…” Joel started, only to lose his train of thought the moment you sat and unclasped your bra.
You lit up, comfortably. Nodding to the window.
“Mind opening that?” you asked him.
Joel stood back and stared. He squared his shoulders, seeming poised to say ‘no,’ when his gaze dropped lower.
“Those’ll kill you.” But he was just looking at your breasts
Reluctantly, he moved from where he’d fixed himself at the center of your room and walked over to the window. He slid the pane up, but he didn’t let his gaze stray from you too long. As soon as the smoke found a place to go, he turned. He shook his head again. You smiled, then.
“These are yours,” you replied. You bared your teeth at him with the cigarette in between them, teasing a little.
After, you closed your lips and inhaled once. You blew a breath through your nose and let the smoke trail out. Joel scowled as he took a step closer to your bed.
Somewhere downstairs Tommy had cranked the game up louder. You could hear the blare of fanfare and a booming, cheery voice announcing a first down.
Meanwhile, Joel’s jaw hadn’t flinched. His lips were still curled in that sour, unsightly grimace. He had to have gotten a good deal of practice doing that while you were away, with every text, call, and FaceTime you’d declined over the past month, you imagined. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of being ignored as it was getting smoke blown into his face that made him irritated. Galled, even.
Joel made a pass for your mouth as if to take the cigarette away, but you were too quick. You slid back.
“Finders keepers,” you chided, trying not to giggle.
“Give it.”
“Make me.”
“Kid, don’t start.”
Joel’s face was turning pink as he leaned in again. In no more than a second, though, you’d made it safely out of his reach. He had to plant a knee on your bedspread, grit his teeth even tighter, and stretch his frame further in, and just when he’d gotten within half a foot from where you sat perched at the head of the bed, you felt a snap.
Or perhaps heard a groan and surmised the rest. Joel cursed, ‘Fuck!’ then fell to his elbow, hissing with pain.
He gripped his side, and he winced. Your eyes went wide.
“Joel?”
The cigarette fell from your lips; as soon as it did, Joel swept a brusque, graceless touch in your direction. He held tight to his side while he swatted the thing away. The second the still-lit stick hit the covers, Joel had it brushed to the side, sending it flying off of your bed.
His nostrils flared when he stood again. He crushed the cigarette underfoot. He looked pleased—then pained.
“Joel!” you hissed. This time reaching for him, and catching him narrowly before he lurched into your bed.
“‘M’alright. Stop, stop. It’s okay.”
Joel grunted, low. He held one bedpost. He clutched somewhere on his body close to the small of his back, and you could tell he felt a strain. He noticeably tensed.
“I’m fine.” And then he was starting to wave you off, too, “Lifetime of smoking’ll do that to you. And turning forty.”
You believed him. What you wouldn’t accept was how fast he tried to bend down and retrieve the cigarette from the floor. His cheeks flushed red with the effort.
And just when he’d started to tilt, you tugged him back.
You gripped his shirt and yanked him onto the bed.
Maybe that wasn’t the best for the muscle he’d pulled. At any rate, though, it was better than straining another by trying to pick up a cigarette butt, you reasoned. You hadn’t even jerked him that hard, and your bed was soft. Joel fell with a thud amidst a sea of satin, plush faux fur, a half-dozen pillows, and a mound of stuffed animals. His lips frowned as if annoyed, but the eyes betrayed relief. He breathed out a shallow puff of air once he’d settled.
“You need to stop smoking.” Grumbling now, of course.
You wanted to pinch the pout clean off his mouth.
“Yeah, really, Joel? You first,” you shot back.
“I’m old.”
“No shit.”
“Watch it.”
For someone who’d practically thrown out his back just bending at the waist, Joel Miller loved to wax poetic on the dangers of Big Tobacco. And getting old. By the time he groaned and laid flat, you decided you’d had enough of this sexless intermission, and you straddled his hips.
“Wh—” Joel huffed in protest, pushing at hands all too eager to act on his belt, “You still haven’t answered me.”
“What was the question?” you returned, careless.
But you knew it clear as day: Are we alright?
The old man didn’t stop the path of your hands, but he certainly made a show to try and pretend to stall their speed. He watched, curiosity piqued and shame still roiling in his gut, and he let you unbuckle, unzip, and finally free him from the confines of his briefs. He sighed.
It was then that you felt him hard against your palm, firm as he was before. Your mouth watered even more. When your eyes flitted up to his for permission, you didn’t expect to find resistance there, so the subsequent grip around your wrist took you back. Joel seized hold of your hand in his, and, rather than stopping you completely, he paused it in place. Sank your touch into his groin, as though tempting you with the outline of his bare length.
That was cruel. He knew what feeling him did to you.
“You know exactly what question I meant.”
What such a move would do to any girl in your position—freshly fucked and eager for more—and in your bed, no less. You didn’t care for the guilt Joel harbored today; he didn’t get to demand answers you weren’t ready to give.
“What? Feeling bad for boning your friend’s kid all of a sudden?” You smiled, voice devoid of any humor as you tried to pivot subjects, “Didn’t look like that downstairs.”
Shame flared in Joel’s eyes. Two could play at this game.
His grip tightened around your wrist, and he kept it still. In spite of this hold, you were able to flex your fingers the tiniest bit and take him snugly in your hand. He held you, and you held him, and for the next few excruciating moments, that was all either of you could do. Until:
“I would do it again.”
And then Joel’s touch was moving yours. Rubbing him. Seizing your hip with his free hand and rocking you back.
Making you hold his gaze while his dick swelled bigger.
“I don’t care if that’s wrong,” he added through his teeth.
“Wrong,” you mumbled absently. Touching him more.
It was as though you both were rooted in place by warring feelings—Joel by guilt, and you by knowing. Needing each other, and being unable to break apart. Words flowed like molasses; their end was no less sweet.
“I’d fuck you anywhere you asked if you would just—” Joel broke off suddenly, taking a breath, “Forgive me.”
Please.
The eyes beneath yours were pained with remorse.
You squeezed him tighter, and you stared more carefully.
“Here?” It left you more like a breath.
“Here.”
Your skull still buzzed. Your vision still wavered some. You could scarcely hope to know what it was that made this man a worse intoxicant than every drink you’d guzzled that morning, but the way he reached for your body and slid you back in the bed made answers pointless anyway. All you needed to know was that he wanted you, too. You could sort out the rest of it later; you let him lie you down
Joel was out of place here, that much was obvious. Clearly, no man skating through middle age belonged in the bedroom of a girl as young as you—and that was overlooking the paternal connection altogether—but all the same, he guided you back. Trailed your body with his. If it weren’t for the greys and the striations on his face and the legions of freckles bred from decades spent baking under the sun, he might’ve struck you as a much younger man. His every move now seemed to show it.
His hands shook like yours had earlier.
He watched you slide under the covers, then swallowed.
“Still cold?”
“Yeah.”
He gave you a long look, as though considering what to say. You beckoned him over and decided to talk for him.
“Like father, like daughter, I guess,” you added. Teasing.
You could hear the groan start to bubble in his throat, but Joel let you pull him in. He climbed under the sheets.
Like a much younger, doubly nervous teen around his date past curfew, he slotted between your legs with a moment’s indecision. He shed his clothes but was slow. Your gaze flitted to his torso, then his legs, and watching him gingerly undress, you couldn’t help but grin a little.
Both of you were naked in under a minute. Joel’s body was like a furnace searing hot between your thighs.
And while you smiled at him, he frowned down at you.
You might’ve expected anything next, except hearing:
“We aren’t gonna be parents anytime soon, right?”
You choked.
“What?”
Joel blinked.
“The Plan B, I mean,” he went on, color crawling up to his cheeks. He blinked harder, like he’d been dreading this, “Wasn’t sure if you ever got your…yeah. Just wonderin’.”
Just wondering.
After Joel’s Cenozoic-era condom had broken the first time you two had ever fucked, you realized you hadn’t bothered to tell him if you ended up getting your period. He’d probably been trying to ask that over the course of several dozen unanswered texts and calls the last month, but you’d been radio silent. Your drinking today had to have given the truth away, but you still felt a pang of guilt
You admired his sincerity. You didn’t want to mock it.
But when your lips twitched the tiniest bit, Joel’s did too. He’d heaved a sigh of relief before you’d even answered him in words, and for a moment, things were easy again.
“I’m sorry, Miller. That probably had you scared shitless.”
“It did.”
And, under most other circumstances, you probably would’ve expected him to chastise you for it a little. Chide you for your immaturity and shake his head, because this was always how it went. But he didn’t.
Joel smiled back instead, and he kissed your forehead.
You blinked, shortly summoning words to try and deflect.
“I mean, like…can you even imagine us having a kid?”
“I can’t. I think I’d be…” Joel trailed off, at a loss.
“Pissed to be changing diapers in your fifties, I bet,” you finished for him, and that made him laugh. You joined in, grinning, and for a second you almost forgot he was still between your legs. His cock softened against your belly.
“You’d be a hot mom. I’d be an old dad,” he countered, suddenly lowering his face to kiss and nuzzle your neck. When the ebbs of your laughter were renewed in a fit of giggles, and your feet kicked helplessly under the covers as he used his mouth and hands to tickle you then, you had to choke through your words—‘Joel, stop, I mean it.’
“Ticklish and hot, I forgot.”
His fingers were relentless on your ribs. You kicked again.
“Don’t fucking test me. I—I will kick you out,” you warned
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Go on, then.”
Evidently, the thought of ordering him back downstairs with your dad and Tommy seemed like the least likely outcome at the moment, so Joel kept tickling you. He moved his lips to your ear, about to whisper something stupid and teasing, most likely, when you jerked yourself the other way. You slid just far enough to reach off the bed. While you clawed at your nightstand, Joel simply draped his body over yours and went on kissing and touching and relishing the sounds you were making—even while you were cursing his name under your breath.
“Go. Go. Enough of this shit, Miller,” you finally told him, nudging Joel back and waving something in his face.
“Wh—”
“Since getting knocked up is the last thing either of us wants, and we’ve been terrible about playing it safe…”
It didn’t take long for Joel to recognize what it was. As soon as he’d lifted his head to ogle it, you didn’t let him stare at the box of condoms for more than a second or two before tearing it open. Its seal had still been intact.
“New stash for someone special?” Joel hummed, low.
“Nope. Just you.”
Your old friend didn’t seem to appreciate that remark, returning your smirk with a roll of his eyes, but he took the metallic-wrapped rubber when you offered him one anyway. He tore off the top. He probably would’ve liked to put the thing on, but with all the time and brainless banter that had passed, he had to get himself hard again. He eyed you once, and, wrapping a hand around himself semi-erect, he seemed to want to say something more.
You wouldn’t let him. You kissed him, and he kissed back, and with your legs sliding around the backs of his own underneath the soft, warm sheets, he probably forgot what he was going to say. Your lips and tongues intertwined without needing those words to be spoken, and before long, Joel was growing harder. He sucked in a breath when your hand reached down to touch him, soft.
Joel grunted when your touch replaced his. While you stroked his length, you could see the muscles tense in his stomach. The heft of his belly was smooth, and firm, and protruding with little patches of black and grey hairs, and the man looked so undone already with just your fingers curling over his shaft. You would’ve held him that way for as long as he asked. Would’ve relished the warmth of him in your hand, the way his breaths grew more ragged as he kissed you and let you pump him gently between your body and his. You might’ve mistaken it for something romantic when he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face, before pulling away and mumbling, ‘That’s it. That feels real good, sweetheart. You’re doin’ so good.’ But being the way you were, you couldn’t accept such intimacy without wanting to shy away. You pushed his words aside and reached for the condom in his hand, swallowing thickly as you did.
The latex went on quickly. Joel hardly seemed of a mind to try and slow things down with his body just as taut, on edge, and desperate as yours. He planted an arm beside your head, and you guided his length between your legs. It felt cozy. Tender. Nervous like this could’ve been your first. A little strange seeing how you’d done this multiple times before—had started it just downstairs, against a wall and on the couch—and somehow, felt different now.
Joel sank in, and both of you groaned.
“I missed you, baby.”
It came from him all in the same breath. Your walls clenched, and he said it again. You peered up at the man, half-expecting to see his eyes shut and the feeling of you guiding his words more than anything else—he hadn’t meant you, but what was between your legs. But when you looked, you met his gaze. Joel was earnest, clearly.
“Did you miss me?” he panted, hips dragging back.
With the head of his cock drawn all the way up to your entrance, tip stretching that soft, sticky flesh, you could scarcely do more than whimper. You laced your fingers together behind his neck, felt him push in again, and suddenly, the sensations churning low in your gut got warmer. Stronger. They made you want to hold on longer
He felt so big inside you. Overwhelming you with his size and his scent and the way his lips trailed over yours while he fucked you; it all seemed too much to give a response.
Joel kissed you again, and your bodies fell into a rhythm. You squeezed his neck, let out a breathy whine when his cock grazed something soft and sensitive between your walls, and then pulled away fully to look down and watch.
He did too. He kissed the crown of your head, mumbling:
“See how good we fit?”
Those words could’ve sent you over the edge. Your body shuddered at the next thrust, feeling the warmth of his breath still fanning across your face, and you nodded.
Your eyes all but glazed over as you watched Joel’s big, glistening cock disappear and reappear from inside your body, coated with your arousal and the rubber and looking every bit as dizzyingly good as it had before. The wet noises only increased in volume the more he sped up, and with the need blossoming in your stomach, you had no choice but to moan. Joel plunged even deeper.
“Did she miss me, at least? Did she miss her daddy?”
Your walls clenched at those words—‘she,’ ‘daddy.’
Still, you couldn’t speak. You just nodded back.
Joel’s motions grew stronger, and with every stroke inside you, his cock hit something plush and sweet. You had to bite your lip to keep the sounds from coming out too loud, but the effort was almost wholly in vain. The harder he went, the more your throat came to betray you. The more Joel seemed keen on getting you to speak.
“Feels like she does, hon,” he said, tone dulcet and low, “Pussy’s been squeezin’ like she needed daddy here.”
That was true. Your heels dug deeper in his ass, and you felt something tender swell up inside, almost painfully.
Joel was moving your whole frame with the weight of his thrusts—your body bouncing beneath him, the bed creaking under the force, your old childhood room being filled with the sounds of your blooming pleasure and his. Your cunt stretched even more; it begged to be fucked deeper. Though your mouth couldn’t form the words, it seemed Joel was more than able to make out the rest.
He brought his thumb to your clit. He rubbed it, then caught your lips in a hot, steady kiss when a whimper from yours was just about to threaten to tremble out.
“Atta girl,” he grunted against your mouth, “That’s it.”
His hips worked faster. His thumb moved with even more precision, more persistence, as though begging your pleasure to come. You could feel the sweat bead on your skin and his; your bodies seemed to blend together. Your legs tightened around his sides, and while he fucked you and kissed you more fervidly then, you could feel your resolve start to slip. You broke from the kiss, panting.
“I can feel her, honey. Keep goin’,” Joel urged.
You weren’t sure if you could. It felt good.
It felt safe. You hadn’t felt that in a while.
Or maybe just since you’d been away.
You thought of the last, vulnerable state you’d been forced to endure—feeling hurt and betrayed after Joel had lied trying to keep you ‘safe’—and your body tensed. You held tighter, but you also couldn’t lose that feeling completely. You were so close, and there was still something else you couldn’t yet define, or explain.
“Cum for me, baby,” Joel kissed the side of your mouth, knowing the feeling coursing through your body too well, “Take what you need. Just let her feel good. It’s all okay.”
All okay.
Your walls fluttered again; your moans grew breathy and faint as Joel’s cock wedged deeper and deeper and his kisses grew softer along your face. It was evident you were there—you knew you were there—but then, the way you felt was like no place you’d ever experienced before.
You wanted to tell him something.
You met Joel’s gaze, and you almost did. Then he withdrew and fucked back in, and all words were lost.
The headboard thumped against the wall; you didn’t hear it. Joel’s one free hand was cradling your cheek, and his face drew closer, and right when you sensed the man was about to drop another kiss, you felt release, at last.
A snap.
A dizzying blow.
Your climax struck with all the force of a seismic wave, and, at the same time, you could feel Joel groaning, pulsing, spurting thick ropes of cum into rubber while his gaze stayed locked on yours and your body came apart. The look from him was sickeningly soft, even at his peak.
Intimate, again.
You couldn’t help it.
With your legs trembling, cunt spasming, and eyes still plastered to Joel’s, you felt that something resurface. This time, you didn’t have a hope of keeping it inside.
“I— I— I love you, Joel. I love you,” you stuttered out.
Your voice was tight. Your eyes burned with tears you hadn’t even sensed might threaten to appear with it.
You broke down and felt the sudden urge to sob.
And, just as quickly as you did, you shoved him off.
Regret flooded your chest. You shouldn’t have said that.
Joel was slow to move, no matter how much you tried getting him away. He was still in your bed, crowding your space—and worse yet, he was staring at you, eyes wide.
“Baby—”
“Don’t.” Your gaze was still wider. Wild. And remorseful, “I didn’t— I’m sorry, I just— I didn’t mean to say that.”
Joel had pulled out, but he was still between your legs. You slid backward in the bed, cheeks flaming with heat.
He followed.
He reached out.
“Please don’t,” you begged, shaking your head before his touch could find you. Your pulse thundered in your skull.
The sound almost drowned all other noises out.
At the next, you wished it would deafen you completely.
“I love you, too, baby,” Joel said.
No sooner had his palms come to rest on your face when you were shoving them away. Standing up from the bed.
“You don’t mean that. I didn’t mean it. Just— just stop.”
“I—”
“Need to go.”
You hardly realized it, but you were pointing to the door.
Joel was just getting the condom off, about to stand up from where he was, when a new sound startled you both.
The garage door was closing. Tommy shouted your name saying he needed help bringing something in, and for a second, you both froze. It was happening all over again.
You knew you couldn’t risk getting caught another time. Not with your father in the house, unconscious or not. Silently, you thanked your lucky stars for the opportunity afforded by this moment—getting Joel out—and bent to grab his clothes off the floor and throw them, one by one. He dressed, albeit reluctantly. He opened his mouth to speak again, but you were busy racing to throw on your own clothes, thinking of ways to get him out unnoticed. You heard the door to the garage slam shut downstairs.
“He’s gonna be back any minute. You need to go, Joel.”
“Come with me. We have to talk—”
“I have nothing else to say.”
“But you—”
“I lied. And so did you. Just like before,” you gritted out, “You can spare my feelings—I didn’t fucking mean it.”
He felt bad, that was all. You could see it in his eyes.
The pity, the self-loathing, the guilt; it was all there.
The sight made your stomach turn, and though your legs weren’t steady or sure underneath you in the slightest, you knew you had to go. If Joel didn’t intend on making things easier, you would have to leave first. You felt him reach for you, saw the plea in his eyes and knew how wrong this really was—that you had both fucked up—and couldn’t stay there. Again, you wrenched yourself away.
You didn’t give him the chance to protest. You heard words, dimly, but barely had the sense or self-possession to process one syllable of it, so you left. You bounded down steps, pulse hammering even louder than before, and you didn’t think to turn around or let Joel follow or even remotely allow yourself to stop feeling embarrassed
Leaving was for the best anyway.
If Joel had lied once, he’d lie again.
Downstairs, you cleaned. You folded laundry.
Joel had snuck out a while ago, having slipped from your room, down to the kitchen, and out the back door while Tommy was busy retrieving beer out of the garage. You’d gone down there to distract the younger Miller brother while Joel packed his shit up and left. Like he was meant to do. Luckily, Joel’s departure was quiet, and Tommy was all too happy to have some help toting cases of Budweiser inside. Your dad and Tess were still fast asleep
And now, nearly half an hour later, you had only to sweep the hardwood floor, fold your clothes, and busy yourself as best you could—or else grit your teeth so hard you could’ve broken your jaw. You were so fucking dumb.
“Almost done?” Tommy poked his head inside the room.
You’d told Joel you hated him last month. One measly fuck and you’re spewing, ‘I love you’? What the fuck?
“Just about,” you replied, dropping an old shirt of your dad’s into the nearest, neatest pile, “You heading out?”
Tommy jingled his car keys in his hand and hummed to say that he was. He had a happy, Alabama-just-beat-the-shit-out-of-Tennessee smile on his face as he stood there
“Yeah, I’m going back to Mando’s now to celebrate and watch another game. Was wondering if you wanted to come along,” he said, leaning against the door frame.
“I would, I’ve just got so much shit to do around here—” Gesturing indistinctly to the mountains of clothing stacked high all about the laundry room, “—cleaning.”
Beating yourself over the head, mentally, for ever telling his older brother that you liked him in the first place. Wishing you could crawl in a hole and wallow alone.
“Aww, that can wait. You’re here the whole week—”
“I know. But I gotta keep an eye on my old man, too.”
You rubbed at your face and pretended to get re-invested in a pair of socks with two gaping holes. Your father wouldn’t discard old, ratty clothes to save his life.
Then Tommy was at your side. Pressing against the washing machine and watching you work. Smirking.
“By ‘your old man’ do you mean your dad…or Joel?”
For the second time that day, you almost choked. You tried not to let it show but were sure you failed miserably.
“I— I— what?” you huffed, all terse, feigned incredulity.
“Don’t play stupid. Only suits my dumbass brother,” Tommy returned coolly, turning to face you head-on, “You sound just like him whenever I ask about you.”
“Whatever he’s said—” you started again.
“I heard his truck hightailing it out of here while you came down to distract me. Heard his footsteps, too.”
While your cheeks warmed, Tommy’s smile only grew.
“Aaaaand the headboard was bangin’ pretty loud—”
“Alright!” You threw your hands up, “Fine. OK. Enough.”
Your surrender was fast, far too grossed out to fight it.
You closed your eyes and wanted to die. From next to you, you could hear Tommy’s amusement morph into laughter. It didn’t take much to wring the truth out of you, and for a man who knew you as well as he did, there was really no telling where this would end. Once Tommy Miller called bullshit, there was rarely ever room to argue.
The last time that had happened, he’d sent you and Joel packing to abstinence camp and had never looked back.
Why he was finding humor in this now was beyond you.
You dropped the socks you were holding. You shot him a look as if to ask him just that, and the man shrugged.
“I know y’all skipped out on camp. Could’ve guessed there was some sort of fight between you two after that, because I’ve never seen Joel so goddamn grumpy for—”
“Yeah, well,” you cut in, not wanting to hear the rest, “That’s over now. Seriously. Today was just a fluke.”
Before he could even try to voice his disbelief, you added:
“Just don’t tell my dad about this. Please.”
By the look in his eyes, you could tell that was probably the furthest thing from his mind, but you asked it all the same. Tommy scoffed, and then he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest like he couldn’t believe a word you were saying now. Like a smug big brother who didn’t know how else to say that you made a terrible liar.
Because that was what he’d been to you before you ever got with Joel in the first place: a good, no-bullshit friend. The recognition of this made you feel even worse inside.
“I’m sorry,” Tommy said at length, much to your surprise.
His arms constricted even tighter against his chest and his eyes scanned yours thoughtfully before continuing.
“I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in y’all’s business. What you and Joel do is up to you—I just hated the thought of things, uh…going south. Making it weird between you.”
“Like now,” you said quietly.
A beat.
Tommy scratched his neck.
“Yeah, a little like that,” he replied, breathing out a laugh, “But that’s alright. Joel’s my brother, and I love him, but the man can’t navigate a relationship to save his life. Much less with a girl your age. So just…keep that in mind. I don’t wanna see either of you getting hurt.”
In other words: don’t be stupid and get attached.
‘You’re right,’ was all you knew to say. All you felt capable of telling him now, after what had come to pass that day.
Frankly, you didn’t need to speak another word to get the gist of what he meant, and like he’d said, it wasn’t on him to dictate how you handled things with Joel. The message was clear enough, and the truth was all there.
You couldn’t make this work.
Joel wouldn’t make this work with a girl as young as you.
He’d only said what he said today out of habit—a knee-jerk reaction. He didn’t know what the fuck else to say when his best friend’s kid he’d been banging spilled out ‘I love you.’ And you didn’t blame him for it. But you also couldn’t expect him to be something he wasn’t when all this was ever supposed to be was a casual fuck here and there. You’d been confused and needing to feel safe. He had wanted access to something he shouldn’t have, and now that the thrill of that was wearing off, he felt trapped and cornered into saying what he had, for your sake. The best thing for the two of you now was a clean break, before any more feelings got muddled and misspoken and brought to anything worse than they already were.
It would suck for a while. You knew it would. The next second had you leaning in unconsciously, watching Tommy uncross his arms and pull you in for a hug.
This would really suck.
You buried your face in his chest.
There wasn’t much to say; still, Tommy said it best:
“Whatever happens, you’ll be fine. I know you will.”
#OBLIGATORY ‘TURKEY AIN’T THE ONLY THING GETTING STUFFED’ TAG#NEEDTHAT#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller tlou#the last of us fic#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller
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Fucksgiving 2k24: Growing Family
You and Joel try to patch things up with your father while starting a family of your own. A Thanksgiving oneshot in the Stranger in a Bar universe.
^This is how I pictured this Joel as I was writing, with his lil tie on. Sorry not sorry.
Pairing: DBF!Joel x Female Reader (from Stranger in a Bar)
Length: 3.8k
CW: BREEDING KINK. Unprotected P in V for obvious reasons. Planning for pregnancy. Age gap (Joel is 20 years older, reader is 35 and Joel is 55.) Reader's dad is kind of a dick. No outbreak AU. Can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that Joel was reader's dad's bestie and he and reader are living together after dating years prior. No use of Y/N, minors DNI 18+ only.
A/N: Here's something to read while you navigate your own Thanksgiving dinner situations which are, hopefully, less awkward than this one. Happy Thanksgiving!!
“I mean it,” you said, clutching the casserole dish of mashed potatoes tightly to your stomach. “Best. Behavior.”
“When am I ever not on my best behavior?” Joel asked, his hand on the small of your back possessively.
You stopped in the middle of the drive on the mercifully long walk to your parents’ front door to stare at him, incredulous.
“When are you?” You asked, brows raised. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you behave yourself, not once, especially not where my dad is involved…”
“Alright,” he chuckled good naturedly. “I’ll do my best.”
“You’d better,” you said. “He’s just coming around to this, OK? I’d rather not blow it.”
“I know, baby,” he said, kissing your temple. “I’ll be good. Promise.”
“Thank you,” you said, continuing up to the front door.
“Your dad needs to behave too, though,” Joel said, sticking close to you. “Because I’m not gonna just let him say the same shit he always does, I don’t care.”
“Please try,” you said, ringing the doorbell. “If you do, I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Really?” He asked, his voice husky. “Dyin’ to know what you mean by that.”
“I mean,” you said, keeping your voice low. “Given how much I want to fuck your brains out, I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating and I can think of all kinds of ways you can try to knock me up - hey Mom!”
“Hey, honey!” Your mom opened the door and pulled you in for a hug. You just caught Joel’s expression out of the corner of your eye, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. “Oh, it’s so good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too,” you gave her a squeeze, carefully angling the casserole dish away from her before stepping back. “We come bearing potatoes.”
“So you do!” She said, taking the dish before turning to your boyfriend and taking a deep breath. “Joel. Always good to see you.”
You looked to Joel and saw him collect himself for half a second before smiling to your mom.
“Good to see you, too,” he said. “Been a while.”
“Yeah,” she smiled a little bigger and reached out to give his arm a squeeze. “It has.”
You gave Joel an encouraging smile as the two of you followed your mother into a kitchen that was overflowing with dishes.
“Can I help?” You asked, laughing a little as you looked around.
“Oh…” she sighed, looking around before she laughed, too. “Yes, yes please. Your father has been utterly useless, just wandering around, muttering to himself. Not that he’s the most helpful in the kitchen but he’s not completely incompetent…”
“He’s good on the grill,” you said. “Kitchen… eh.”
“Well, yes,” she giggled conspiratorially. “But I try to give him credit where it’s due. Usually I’m not on my own for a holiday but this year he’s been… something.”
You just hummed in agreement and started in on the green beans because you were pretty sure you knew the reason why your dad was acting strange and that reason was currently asking your mom how she wanted the cucumber cut for the salad.
Joel and your father had barely spoken in the six months since you’d moved back to Austin and gotten back together with Joel.
Not that you were too surprised about that. He was, after all, one of your dad’s closest friends and was much closer to his age than your own. You hadn’t exactly expected the news of your relationship to go over well but it had been even worse than you’d anticipated.
You’d arranged to talk to your parents in public when you decided to tell them. Neutral ground, as it were. Plus, you were pretty sure your father would be less likely to punch Joel in the face if you were in public.
It ended up not making much of a difference.
“You’re what!” Your father stood up so fast that his chair fell over, the sharp clatter of the wood on the tile restaurant floor and violence of his tone plunging the once bustling room into silence.
“Dad,” you said gently. “It’s not a big deal…”
“The hell it’s not!” He yelled, looking between the two of you. “When the fuck did this start, hm? When the hell did you start fucking my daughter!”
“Why don’t you sit down and…” Joel began, but your dad didn’t let him finish.
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” he put his finger inches from Joel’s face. “She is a child!”
“I’m 35!” You gaped at him. “Dad, you’re being ridiculous!”
“You’re already in hot water,” he snapped at you. “So keep your damn mouth shut while…”
“Don’t talk to her that way,” Joel said, standing up with too much force, his voice hot. “You got a problem with me, handle it with me, don’t take it out on her.”
“Don’t you tell me how to treat my own fucking kid!” Your dad yelled. “I’ll handle her however I damn well please!”
You weren’t sure who threw the first punch but it devolved quickly then, your mother pulling your father away while you dragged Joel back, both men bloody and panting for breath.
You kept your distance from your father after that. You talked to your mom regularly - she was smart enough to give up on trying to talk you out of your relationship quickly and, eventually, was even happy for you - but your father took some time.
After a while, he was willing to talk to you. Your mother must have given him strict rules - he didn’t try to talk you out of your relationship or question Joel’s integrity - but it was stiff and awkward.
Thanksgiving had been your mom’s idea. Joel was hesitant but - after you conspired with Sarah (you and Joel’s daughter becoming fast friends once you moved past the awkwardness of your closeness in age) so she would stay in Dallas to go to have dinner with her boyfriend’s family - he’d agreed eventually.
“If this don’t prove how much I love you, woman,” he’d grumbled as he tied his tie that morning.
“You? Love me?” You asked, adjusting the knot under his chin. “News to me…”
“Uh huh,” he smiled a little, just enough to make his cheek dimple.
“Never said it,” you had to fight to hold your smirk back. “Definitely not 20 times while you were inside me last night…”
“That don’t sound like me at all,” he teased back before going to kiss your cheek. “You look beautiful, baby.”
“Well, I do have a hot date.”
“Really? When’s he showing up?”
You glared at him and he laughed before giving you another kiss.
“Let’s go before I lose my damn nerve,” he said. “Gonna be the most awkward Thanksgiving ever.”
For a little while, there in the kitchen with just Joel and your mother, you almost forgot how awkward this was supposed to be.
You and Joel moved around each other in tandem now. You’d been living together for months and you’d fallen into sync so fast it was almost strange when you stopped to think about it. When you’d moved in with your ex, it took what felt like a small eternity to really understand the flow of his life, to subconsciously recognize where he was going in the kitchen when you were cooking side by side, to remember to consider him when making decisions big and small. With Joel, it was almost instantaneous. There had been no odd fumbling around each other as you went through your lives under one roof, no putting one brand of peanut butter back to pick up the one you suddenly remembered he preferred, no confusion or frustration when you came home from the office to find him not back yet. It all clicked, like you’d been built to do this alongside each other all along. Even in the unfamiliar space of your parents’ kitchen, his hand found the small of your back as he moved behind you to get a serving bowl and you just knew which knife to pass him from the block beside you when he went to reach for it.
Things shifted when your sister showed up about an hour and a half before dinner, her arrival finally coaxing your father out from wherever he’d been hiding since you and Joel had gotten there.
“Hey Dad,” you smiled at him after he finished greeting your sister and he stood, hovering awkwardly in the kitchen. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too, princess,” he said pulling you in for a quick hug.
He turned his attention to Joel then, looking him up and down like he would an adversary.
“Joel,” he said, nodding once.
“Hey man,” Joel said, holding his hand out. Your father’s jaw twitched but he shook Joel’s hand all the same. “Good to see you.”
Your father just grunted before going to the fridge and getting out a beer. Joel followed him and you and your mother exchanged worried glances.
“Think the Cowboys are gonna pull out a win this year?” Joel asked.
Your dad held his beer for a moment, looking like he was considering just not responding but then seemed to think better of it.
“We’ll see,” he said. “With their record, I’d settle for not getting our asses handed to us.”
Things were easier after that. Your father and Joel disappeared to the living room and you heard the telltale sounds of football follow immediately after.
“I still can’t believe you’re fucking Dad’s weirdly hot friend!” Your sister said, just quiet enough that your mother was out of earshot. “Or that you were for years, forever ago! Seriously, there are rules about holding back to your sister like that.”
“You don’t need to know everything I do, you know,” you said.
“No but I need to know everyone you do,” she said. You snorted. “So… you think it’s going to last?”
“Well, we’re trying for kids,” you said, putting the last of the shredded cheese on the mac and cheese. “So it’d better.”
“What!” She yelped.
“What?” Your mom ran over. “Everyone OK? Did you burn yourself?”
“We’re good,” you smiled. “Just catching up. Sister shit, you know.”
“Yeah,” your sister said. “Sister shit.”
Your mother went back to the other side of the kitchen and your sister mouthed oh my God at you and you fought the urge to laugh. Your dad might hate your boyfriend but at least you could count on your sister to be your sister.
Eventually, the rest of the family came over, too, and everyone settled around the overly full dining room table, Joel sitting beside you with a reassuring hand on your knee as he made small talk with one of your uncles.
Dinner went surprisingly well, at least until everyone was a few glasses of wine deep and your father decided to pick a fight.
“So, Joel,” he said, setting his wine glass down with a little too much force. “Not sure if I should thank you for getting my daughter to move back home or if I should blame you for her obsession with being a failed musician for a living.”
“Dad!” Your sister gaped at him. “What the fuck!”
“Language, please!” Your mother said.
“Just seems to be real clear to me now,” he said. “Doubt she’d be so stuck on playing that damn guitar all the time if it weren’t for your bad influence.”
“Bad influence?” You laughed. “Dad, I’m almost middle aged, I’m not some impressionable teenager. I love my work, I don’t consider myself to be a failure just because I do music therapy instead of being a rock star, I…”
“You could have actually done something with yourself, you know,” he cut you off. “Instead, you decided to drive your life into the ground with this man and some bullshit career path…”
“Watch it,” Joel said sharply. “Not gonna let you talk to her that way. You will treat her with respect or I will make you treat her with respect.”
“Respect?” Your dad asked, his eyebrows raised. “You’re gonna sit there, in my house, at my table and lecture me about respect when you decided to take up with my daughter?”
“Stop it!” You shoved your chair back, throwing your napkin on your gravy smeared plate. “Both of you! Dad, stop acting like your my keeper and that I don’t have any goddamn agency because you raised me! Joel, stop acting like I need you to defend my honor! Just… fucking stop it!”
“Baby,” Joel said but you ignored him, stalking off to the guest room at the back of your parents’ house, needing some space from everyone.
You let yourself cry for a minute, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at an old family photo of you with your parents and sister, back when you were just 10 years old. Your hand drifted to your lower stomach. You weren’t pregnant yet - at least, not that you knew - but you couldn’t imagine your child doing anything that would make you as mad at them as your father seemed to be at you loving Joel.
There was a soft knock at the door and you wiped your eyes on the backs of your wrists.
“Yeah?”
“S’me,” Joel said quietly. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” you sniffed.
He came in, closing the door gently behind him before sitting next to you.
“You OK?” He asked after a moment.
“I will be,” you sniffed again.
“I’m sorry baby,” he said, reaching out and cupping your face, his thumb tracing the arch of your cheekbone. “Know I promised to be on my best behavior but… Look, him being a dick to me is fine, I can handle that. I just can’t watch him say that shit to you. But that don’t mean I should get… aggressive and…”
“It’s not your fault,” you said. “I’d do the same thing if I were you, I can’t really blame you for it. And I appreciate that you care about me…”
“I love you,” he smiled a little. “More than just about anything else. But that means I need to take care of you in the way you want me to, not just the way I want to do it.”
You smiled tightly before leaning in to kiss him. Joel kissed you back, gentle at first but, before long, something shifted, the kiss becoming hot and needy.
“Baby,” Joel said, his voice low. “Should… should probably get back out there…”
“They can wait,” you said, panting a little. “I want you.”
He groaned, nipping at your lower lip but still hesitating.
“Please, Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself closer to him. “I need you. Let’s make a baby.”
“Fuck,” he said, his tone shifting, and then he was on you. His tongue plunged into your mouth as he lay you back on the bed.
He didn’t bother taking your panties off, just tucking them to the side and tugging the low v-neck of your sweater down to expose your cleavage.
“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he groaned, cupping your sex with one hand and tugging your breasts free of your bra with the other. He mouthed at your nipple, licking and sucking over your breasts as he ground his palm against your clit, one thick finger slipping inside your seam to your already dripping entrance. “Don’t deserve you, baby.”
“Yes you do,” you whispered. “You deserve the world.”
He just moaned in response, kissing you again, one large hand cupping your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple.
It wasn’t long before he shoved his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock and he jerked himself a few times with the hand that had become coated in your wetness. He notched himself at your entrance, his head thick and large and swollen, and pressed inside, a moment of resistance before your channel stretched over him and he buried himself within you.
He pulled his lips from yours, his head falling to the bed over your shoulder as he panted for breath.
“Goddamn you feel good,” he said, voice tight and hot in your ear. You rolled your hips up against him, making him moan.
“Good,” you said. “Love making you feel good, sometimes that’s all I want to do.”
“Fuck, you think your daddy hates me now,” he said. “If he knew what you do to me he’d shoot me.”
He started to fuck into you then, keeping his chest pressed tight to yours while his cock worked you hard and fast inside, his head finding that soft and tender place within you that built your orgasm fast with every stroke. He ground his cock against you there, his hips on your clit, making every ounce of need inside yourself gather tight and low.
“Fuck, Joel,” you panted. “I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, I…”
“Good,” he growled. “Come for me, come while I get you pregnant, c’mon baby and come all over me.”
You had to bury your face in his shoulder to keep quiet, your orgasm hitting you hard and fast, your center fluttering over his thick length as he held himself inside you.
“Oh you like hearin’ that, huh?” He asked, breathless, starting to move again, already building your next orgasm as he did. “Like hearing how I’m gonna put a baby in my baby, that it?”
“Yes,” you groaned, your second climax growing quickly. “Yes, please, please, please, please…”
“You don’t gotta beg for it baby,” he said, pulling back from you enough to look you in the eyes as he spoke. “I’ll give you everything, as many babies as you want, fuck, gonna give you my baby right now, gonna make you pregnant, fuck!”
He buried his face in your neck and pressed himself so deep inside you as he came, the heat of him spilling into you in thick, heavy pulses.
“Fuck,” he said after he finished, kissing your neck before pulling back from you to kiss your lips, too. “Didn’t mean to come that quick, wanted to get you off one more time first.”
“It’s OK,” you said, panting, even though it was kind of a lie. You’d been so close to coming again that you felt tight inside your skin, an energy rippling over you that you knew you wouldn’t be able to shake until you came again once you got home.
“No, it’s not,” he said, sitting up and slowly, carefully pulling his softening cock from you. “Got you all worked up, not taking care of you the way you deserve if I don’t finish the job.”
You felt some of his come slip out of you but he caught it with the tip of his cock, pressing it back inside before tucking himself away in his underwear and cupping your swollen, aching sex.
“I’ll take care of you,” he said quietly. “Take care of you the rest of my life.”
He worked your clit, slow and gentle circles at first before his touch grew firmer, drawing your orgasm back to the surface in the way that only Joel seemed to know how to do. You came to his touch, feeling his thick come inside you as you did, like your body was trying to pull him even deeper inside.
“There you go,” he said, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “Fuck, so pretty, every damn inch of you.”
You panted for breath, relaxing down into the bed before suddenly remembering that your entire family was down the hall.
“Fuck,” you sighed. “We should get back.”
“We should,” Joel said, tugging your panties back in place and helping you cover your chest again before chuckling. “Think your daddy really might shoot me if he found us like this.”
You laughed and sat up, looking at Joel for a moment. You trailed your fingers through his hair and he smiled a little, his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“Really not sure why you think I’m worth all this trouble,” he said. “But I sure am thankful I have you.”
You smiled back.
“I’m thankful for you, too.”
You kissed him and he helped make sure your hair and makeup didn’t look like you just got fucked within an inch of your life before you emerged, the party having moved to the living room, your mom and aunts on one side of the room, your dad and uncles on the other, an uncomfortable silence falling when the two of you walked in.
“Joel,” your dad said, getting up and walking over with a sigh. “Look… not sure I’ll ever really be OK with this but… my daughter could do worse than a man seems to adore her and is willing to stand up for her.”
“I do adore her,” Joel said. “I love her. I want to do everything I can for here as long as she’ll let me.”
Your dad nodded slowly.
“Think I can live with that,” he said. “But you hurt her? I will kill you.”
Joel laughed a little.
“I expect nothing less.”
Joel and your dad seemed a little more like the friends they’d started out as after that, laughing and talking and watching football. When the two of you left for home, your father and mother walked you out, containers of leftovers in hand.
“It was so good to see you both,” your mom smiled, giving you a squeeze. “We’ll have to do this again. Soon.”
“We will,” you kissed her cheek before turning to your dad. “It’ll be nice.”
“It will,” he said before looking to Joel and holding out his hand. “Welcome to the family.”
Joel smiled a little, taking his hand and shaking it.
“Thanks for letting me in it.”
You smiled the whole drive home, Joel’s hand on your knee.
“So,” he said, looking at you conspiratorially as he pulled into the drive way. “Think the family will be even bigger next Thanksgiving?”
“I sure hope so,” you smiled. “But I think we’ll have fun trying either way.”
“Think we should try again now?” He asked, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Because, you know… if you’re ovulating, should probably do it again. Seems like the smart move.”
You laughed, already adding pregnancy tests to your mental shopping list.
“Well we can’t start out our lives as parents doing the dumb thing,” you said and he laughed before the two of you went inside to try again to grow your family.
#fanfic#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x oc#joel miller smut#breeding kink fic#breeding kink Joel miller#dbf!joel x reader#fucksgiving#stranger in a bar
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Billy and Freddy along with Mary watches gacha reaction videos (if you don't know what that is your missing out). But they can only do it in the watch tower and stuff due to the lack of technology in Fawcett. This ideas been going around in my head for a while and I KNOW Freddy would love it.
Hal was having a normal day. The sun was shining, the Earth looked beautiful from the Watchtower. He wanted to go watch the game on one of the Watchtower’s gigantic and beautiful TVs.
GL: *on his merry way to one of the rec rooms, whistling a little tune*
Marvel and Junior: *occasional gasps*
GL: *thinking they’re watching a horror movie and decides he’ll just watch it with them until it’s over* “Hey guys-”
Marvel and Junior: *sitting right in front of the screen, staring like iPad babies and watching a Rivals react to Ayano Aishi vid*
GL: *stares for like a solid second* “What- What the fuck are y’all doing?”
Marvel: *pauses it* “Huh?” *looks back to Hal*
GL: “Why are you guys watching this baby content?”
Junior: *sounds offended* “It’s not baby stuff.”
GL: “Uh yeah. It is.”
Marvel: “No, it isn’t. Stop being a hater.”
GL: “Marvel, you’re a grown ass man. And Junior? You’re at least 14. Why are you watching this??”
Junior: “It’s entertaining.”
GL: “Entertaining. Really?”
Marvel: “Yeah! Come on.” *pats a spot next to him* “Watch it with us.”
GL: “Dude, no.”
Marvel and Junior: *share a look* “Watch it. Watch it. Watch it.” *chanting*
Hal eventually caved.
That’s how he found himself sitting on the floor with them, and watching a surprisingly entertaining “mha reacts to deku as kokichi video”. A couple minutes later, Mary came by with snacks and joined them.
Mary: “I brought some Cheetos and popcorn- wha? You guys started without me?!”
Marvel and Junior: “Sorry, Mary.” *in unison and in shame*
Mary: *sighs and just sits down with them* “Why’s Green Lantern here??
GL: “I just found the fact that a grown man finds this entertaining very interesting.” (He’s actually completely enthralled in these but he’s too embarrassed to admit it)
Mary: “Uh huh… sure.”
Hal’s a little ashamed to admit that they spent like two hours straight doing this until they transitioned into the GLMMs.
GL: “Wait, I don’t get it. Why does the Mom just not love her child?”
Marvel: *shrugs* “Cause she’s mean.”
A couple minutes later…
GL: “Wait, why did the dad die?!”
Mary: “For story progression!”
Like ten minutes later…
GL: “She’s a wolf-cat-angel-demon-unicorn hybrid…?”
Junior: “Yep, she’s special!”
GL: “HAH! Her bitch of a sister’s just a cat!”
Marvel, Mary, and Junior: *all just happy Hal’s invested*
After a couple GLMMs such as Bad Girls vs Gangsters, Emotionless Girl, and The CEO is my Boss, (shout out to everyone who watched these) they moved on to even more kiddy content. Such as Fnaf videos, but not just any… no no no, these ones
After the Fnaf thingy…
GL: “Damn.” *stands up* “My ass hurts from sitting on the ground for so long.”
Marvel: “Dang…” *pauses their next gacha vid* “So you’re out?”
GL: “Yup.” *stretches*
Mary: “It was nice having you Mr. Green Lantern Sir.”
Junior: “Yeah, thanks for letting us put you on.”
Marvel, Mary, and Junior: *same blinding smile*
Also, by the way, they were definitely watching GLMVs and singing along to “I’m a bad girlfriend” and “She’s crazy but she’s mine” and “Copycat” and “Queen.” All of which were and still are peak and I stand by that till this day.
#billy batson#shazam#dc captain marvel#captain marvel dc#fawcett city#fawcett#fawcett comics#hal jordan#green lantern
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Steamy Nights—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
summary— you’re a sheltered college student who recently got your first job as a housekeeper at a fancy hotel. you stumble upon Nicholas Chavez while cleaning and he invites you to his hot tub in his room where one thing leads to another. based on this request.
warnings— age gap(reader is 19) praise kink, slight body worship, fingering, oral(f!receiving), daddy kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, creampie, aftercare.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
It had been a few weeks since you left your hometown and the ever-watchful eyes of your parents. You were finally in college, away from the suffocating grip of your sheltered upbringing. Now, you were free—free to explore, meet new people, and experience the world on your own terms. You'd always been the quiet, reserved type, but something inside you wanted to change that. You were ready to break out of your shell, to do what everyone else seemed to be doing, partying, flirting, and fucking.
You'd just landed your first job, working as a housekeeper at one of the fanciest hotels in the city. The kind of place where top CEOs, celebrities, and influencers stayed. The pay was decent, and it gave you the freedom you longed for, even though you were still adjusting to the hustle of your new life. You had a lot of cleaning to do, and the hours passed by quickly, but today was different. You were already thinking about the freedom you'd have once your shift was over, but you hadn't expected to find what you did next.
As you entered another room to clean, you realized there was no “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging from the door handle. You assumed it was just another room to tidy, so you entered without hesitation. The sight that greeted you, however, left you frozen.
The man standing before you was unreal. His body was sculpted like a Greek statue, muscles rippling under his damp skin, droplets of water glistening on his chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. For a moment, you couldn't find your voice.
“Sorry! I—I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your face flushed. “There wasn't a sign on the door and I just thought—”
You tried to turn away quickly, but your gaze was fixed on him, unable to tear yourself away from his presence. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but be entranced by his sharp features, the way the towel clung to his waist.
He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending a wave of warmth through your body. “It's fine, princess. Why so nervous?” he asked, his smirk playful yet intense.
You swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself. “I, um, I’m sorry, really.”
He took a step closer, and your breath hitched as he looked you over with what felt like a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'm Nicholas by the way, Nicholas Chavez.”
You blinked, a realization dawning on you. Nicholas Chavez. The famous actor. You’d seen him on billboards, in tv shows, and even heard girls talk about him endlessly. He was everywhere. And now, here he was, standing before you in nothing but a towel.
“I, uh, I know who you are,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up even more.
He smiled, eyes softening as he looked at you. “Good. You have a name?”
“Yeah, it's Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly, his voice low. He took a small step toward you, and you felt your pulse quicken. “So, how old are you?” he asked casually, his gaze lingering on you.
“I’m nineteen,” you replied, feeling a little shy under his attention.
He chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Nineteen, huh? You're—full of surprises.”
You blinked, unsure what he meant by that, but his next words made your heart skip a beat.
“How about this,” he said with a sly grin. “When your shift is over, come find me. My private hot tub’s always open. I’ll be waiting.”
For a moment, you hesitated, your mind racing. You’d always been the shy, sheltered girl, but something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, it made you feel different. More alive. Maybe this was your chance to break free from your past, to do something bold.
You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”
His smile widened, and he gave you a wink before turning away, heading back to the bed. “The door’s always open for you,” he said over his shoulder as he flopped onto the bed, his gaze lingering on you. “Take your time.”
You felt a rush of excitement and nerves all at once. You finished your cleaning quickly, your thoughts buzzing with what was to come. You couldn’t stop thinking about him—about his body, his voice, the way he had looked at you. You felt like you were about to step into a new chapter of your life, one that you had been longing for.
The hours passed slowly, but finally, it was time. You’d made sure to pick out a sexy bathing suit, to wear underneath your clothes. As you approached his room, your heart raced with anticipation. You unlocked the door with your housekeeper’s key and pushed it open, your eyes immediately falling on him.
Nicholas was there, lounging on the bed in nothing but his trunks, his body looking just as perfect as before. He looked up and saw you standing there, and his eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“You came,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You swallowed, nodding. “I— I came.”
As he sat up on the bed, your eyes couldn't help but trace the lines of his muscles, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. He was a vision of pure temptation, and for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel nervous. You felt almost empowered.
You stepped out of your clothes and into the soft light of his hotel suite, the anticipation buzzing in the air. You tugged at the straps of your bathing suit, a sudden surge of confidence rushing through you as you revealed the simple yet daring swimwear underneath. His eyes flickered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, his gaze darkening with something deeper.
“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and appreciative. “You’re gorgeous. Look at you.”
Your heart raced at his words, the heat in your cheeks making you feel more alive than you ever. You gave him a shy smile, but he could see through it, he knew exactly how his words were making you feel. He moved toward you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as his hands gently took you in his arms.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady and warm. You squealed in surprise as he effortlessly swept you off your feet, carrying you toward the hot tub on the balcony. The steam rising from the water mingled with the cool night air, creating a perfect atmosphere that made your pulse race even faster.
He set you down gently, the water soothing against your skin as he stepped in after you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something magnetic about him, something raw and unspoken. He was powerful, confident, and completely in control, yet there was a kindness in his gaze that made you feel like the only person in the world.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he asked, his voice smooth like velvet. His hand brushed against your back, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the warmth of his touch.
You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “Well, I’m new to all of this. I grew up a little sheltered, honestly. But I’m in college now, and I wanted to break out of my shell—experience things for myself.”
Nicholas’ eyes softened with understanding, and he gave you a small nod. “I like that,” he said, his voice deepening. “You’ve got spirit.”
You could feel your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little nervously. “I guess I’m just tired of playing it safe.”
He stepped closer, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in just enough to make you dizzy. “What if I told you that you don’t have to play it safe anymore?” His hand found your cheek, cupping it gently as he held your gaze. “What if I told you there’s so much more to explore, if you’re willing?”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded, not trusting your voice for a moment. His words had unlocked something inside you, something that felt like a new beginning.
“What do you have in mind?” you asked, barely above a whisper. You could feel the tension between you two, the chemistry so thick you could almost taste it.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “A lot of things. Are you down for anything?”
You could feel your pulse spike, the weight of his question making your stomach flip with excitement. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but the conviction behind it was clear. You were ready. Ready to let go and experience everything that this night had to offer.
Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow at first. But then the kiss deepened, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded eagerly, your body moving against his as you got lost in the moment. His mouth was hungry, but gentle, as if savoring every second.
He broke away for a moment, looking down at you with something unreadable in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his fingers gently grazing your skin.
Nicholas was so close now, his body radiating warmth as his hands gently traced the contours of your body, making you feel things you’d never experienced before. His eyes never left yours, and you could feel the raw hunger in his gaze.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. “Everything about you is perfect.” His fingers slowly moved up, grazing your side, sending a rush of heat straight to your pussy. He paused, then gently tugged at the strings of your bikini top, his eyes darkening as the fabric loosened. “God,” he breathed, looking at you in awe as the top fell away, exposing your tits to him.
You couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest, the way your pulse quickened at his words. You’d never felt more exposed, yet somehow, with him, it felt right. “So juicy,” he whispered, his voice husky as he lowered his head. His lips brushed the soft curve of your breast, and you gasped softly, unable to stop the soft moans that escaped your lips. “Your moans are hot,” he said.
Your body reacted to every touch, every brush of his hands. His touch felt like fire on your skin, leaving you trembling. The sensation of his hands on your body was overwhelming, and when his fingers gently cupped your breast, you couldn’t help but let out another moan, louder this time.
“God, your boobs are amazing,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as his lips found yours again in a hungry kiss. You kissed him back with the same fervor, your body pressing closer to his, feeling the heat of his chest against you. His body was solid, strong, and you could feel every inch of him as he held you close.
His hand moved slowly down your body, his fingers grazing the edge of your bikini bottom. He didn’t rush, he was savoring every moment, as if he knew this was all new to you. His hand lingered there, rubbing over pussy through the fabric, making you squirm slightly. The water splashed around you, but it only heightened the lust between you both.
You moaned softly as he rubbed your clothed pussy faster, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, and the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your body, his eyes full of desire. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said. There was no mistaking the way he felt—he wanted you, just as much as you wanted him.
With a gentle but insistent pull, he guided you closer, your bodies pressed together, the heat from the water mixing with the heat between you. His lips found yours once more, and as you kissed him back, you felt the world narrowing down to just the two of you, two bodies, two souls connecting in the steam and the quiet night.
What do you want, princess?” His voice was thick with desire, his lips lingering near your ear.
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding as you thought about what you wanted. “I need to feel more. I need you to make me—make me cum.”
He chuckled softly, his breath warm on your neck. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your bikini bottom. He was so careful, making sure you were comfortable with every movement. He kissed you again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as though he couldn’t wait to explore more of you.
The water splashed lightly around you as you both moved, the sound of your breaths mingling with the soft hum of the jets. His hand moved lower, brushing gently against you. He pulled your strings, easily ripping off your bikini then slipped a finger inside your wetness. You couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation of his fingers inside you unfamiliar yet thrilling.
“I’m a virgin by the way, I should’ve mentioned that earlier.”
“Shit, are you okay, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look at you. You nodded, your fingers curling into his chest as you pulled him closer.
“Yes, I’m fine,” you whispered, your body reacting instinctively to his finger curling inside you. He slipped another finger inside you, your nails digging into his huge biceps and he took the moment to rub your clit. Your moans and the sound of water splashing was all he could hear.
“Nick— I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice thick with approval. “Cum for me, baby.”
And for the first time in your life, you did. You squirted on his fingers, feeling the tension in your body release as you surrendered to the moment, to him.
“Fucking hell, you look so pretty when you cum, y’know that?” he murmured, brushing your hair from your face.
“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this so, no,” you laughed.
You suddenly realized you were butt ass naked in front of a man for the first time as his eyes raked over your body, drinking you in like you were a sculpture in a museum. Your hands went instinctively to your boobs, covering yourself as he stared too long.
“Oh baby, don’t hide yourself, you’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured, taking your hands and placing it on his bulge. You felt how hard he was, and how big.
Nicholas pulled down his swim trunks, and stepped out of the water in all his glory. The warm water cascaded over his body and all the way down to his cock that was standing at attention. The steam was a paid actor like himself—setting the mood and reflecting the heat between you. He took your hand and helped you out of the hot tub, both of you dripping with arousal and remnants of water.
As you stood there, his towel draped loosely around his waist, you couldn’t help but notice how impossibly broad and strong his frame was. The water glistened off his chest, highlighting his defined muscles, and you felt an involuntary shiver of anticipation.
He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against your skin as he took up a towel and dried you off. You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest as his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary, making it hard for you to breathe.
“Come on baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he led you back toward the bedroom, your pulse quickening with every step. The moment you entered, he closed the door behind you, the weight of his presence filling the room.
Before you could even process what was happening, he pushed you gently onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the mattress. The action was quick, but there was nothing hurried about the way he looked at you—there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, like he couldn’t wait to see where this would go.
He stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, watching you as you caught your breath, your body still damp from the hot tub. “You know,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “you’re absolutely beautiful.” His words sent a wave of heat through you, making you flush as his gaze dropped to your body, his eyes darkening with desire.
You could barely find your voice. “Th-thank you,” you stammered, trying to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to focus. You weren’t sure if you were nervous or excited, maybe both.
Nicholas moved closer, leaning down until his face was just inches from your glistening pussy. “Can I taste you?” he asked softly, his lips hovering over you.
You nodded, barely able to speak, but your lips parted as he moved in. His mouth moved against your pussy slow at first, tentative almost, as if testing the waters. But as he began licking faster, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded by pressing your pussy against him, the heat of his mouth making you dizzy with desire.
“You’re taste so fucking good,” he murmured against your clit, his voice a husky growl. You moaned softly in response, your body already reacting to his tongue all over you. It was the first time anyone had made you feel like this, so exposed and yet so wanted.
Your breath caught in your throat as you gathered the courage to speak. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whispered.
He smiled, that wicked grin curling at the edges of his lips at the nickname you appointed to him. “Wow, we’ll address that after you cum on my tongue, so go ahead,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.
As if your body was waiting for the go ahead, you arched from the bed, your hands immediately gripping his hair as you ground your pussy all over his mouth. You moaned as you squirted and he took the opportunity to slurp every drop of what your pussy had to over.
“Mm— that’s my good girl, you taste like fucking Heaven, sweetheart,” he praised in between his licks.
He moved up to you, his lips glistening with your arousal and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him and relishing in your savory taste. As you did, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you, his pre cum leaking and smearing on you. It felt so good, you wanted to suck his dick but you needed him to fuck you even more.
“So, daddy kink hmm? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” Nicholas said, that gorgeous smirk on his face.
You buried your face in his neck, grinding your pussy against his shaft as you let out small whimpers in his ear. You needed that dick, bad.
“You’re so needy sweetheart, what is it, you want my cock?”
You let out a soft ‘mhmm’ still grinding against him as your body shuddered, if you weren’t careful, you knew you’d cum from just doing that.
“Words baby, I need words, do you want daddy to take your virginity?” he asked. When he saw you, he knew he wanted you for a fun night and more, he would’ve never thought a beautiful woman like you was still a virgin and would be up for a night with him. Let’s be real, if a guy like him asked you to come to his room after hours, he was looking to fuck and you, a virgin, knowingly came to his room. Though, he needed to know you were on board.
“Yes, please, I want you to take my virginity, please fuck me,” you whimpered.
He reached to pull out the nightstand drawer and you knew immediately what he was reaching for.
“N-no condom,” you muttered, grabbing his hand, “I’d like to feel all of you for my first time, i-if that’s okay.”
“‘Course baby, anything for you,” he smiled.
He moved back on top of you, stroking his length and spreading the pre cum all over. Looking at how big he was, you wondered how he would fit.
“You sure you want to do this sweetheart? You can still back out if you want to, the decision is all yours,” he said, concern etched on his face.
“I’m sure Nicholas,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down.
His leaking tip rubbed against your folds, the sound of your wetness filling the hotel room.
“I’m gonna go slow baby but it’s still going to be a bit uncomfortable at first, if it’s gets too painful, all you have to say is stop, yeah?”
You nodded your head and smiled, appreciative of his words, you wouldn’t want to be losing your virginity in any other scenario with anyone else but him.
Slowly, he began easing his cock into you, muttering praises and placing kisses all over your face. Your face contorted from the pain and pleasure and you tried your best to relax so he could move further.
“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, the worst part’s gonna be over soon,” he uttered, before placing a kiss on your lips.
He slowly pushed into you more, peppering kisses and cooing at you. You’d never felt to full, your fingers when you touched yourself didn’t compare to how big he was inside you. Your jaw fell agape as the slight pain finally subsided and you were overcome with pleasure.
“Daddy,” you moaned as he began to move at a steady pace, his cocky repeatedly brushing against your sweet spot.
“There she is, there’s daddy’s girl,” he cooed, placing another kiss on your lips.
His words made your pussy clench and a flutter grew in your heart, this man was doing things to you no man had ever done.
“Faster,” you urged, grinding against him.
He granted your wish, pounding into you faster and making your body jolt upwards. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping filled the room and soon, you felt your approaching orgasm.
“So fucking tight, just clenching around me like that, I know you wanna cum, cum on daddy’s cock baby.”
Your nails dug into his back leaving a trail of fire and he pounded into you just the way you liked it.
“Oh fuck— daddy,” you cried, grabbing him and pulling him flush against you. You shuddered as your orgasm ripped through you, your juices soaking the bed as he pulled out.
As he looked down, there was a bit of blood between your legs and on his cock. He quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned you up then himself, placing a kiss on your thigh.
You glimpsed the blood stained towel and buried your face in your hands.
“I— I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”
He cut you off with a passionate kiss, cupping your cheeks.
“You don’t need to apologize, it’s natural and normal sweetheart.”
You gave him a small smile and he flipped you on top of him swiftly, making you squeal.
“I know it’s your first time but I need you to ride me baby, need to see those fucking tits bounce and have you on top of me.”
“Anything for you,” you smirked, though nervous.
You lined his awaiting cock with your dripping pussy, rubbing it against you and making it drip down his shaft.
“Fucking hell, you’re amazing,” he moaned, bucking his hips.
Slowly, you sank down onto him, both moaning in unison as your warmth and wetness engulfed each other. It was like fireworks exploded, this was everything you had dreamed of. It was a burning stretch but the pain soon turned into pleasure.
You bounced on his cock and he moved his hips to meet your thrusts.
“Oh God— daddy,” you moaned, feeling him hit a whole new spot inside you, you thought was impossible.
“Yeah? You like that? You like riding daddy’s cock? Fucking say it,” he panted.
“I— I love riding daddy’s cock, fuck me harder,” you moaned.
“Good fucking girl.”
He thrusted up into you, grabbing your boobs and playing with your nipples as he did. Your moans were like music to his ears and soon, he felt the familiar feeling of your pussy fluttering and clenching around him like you didn’t want to let him go.
“Squeezing me so fucking tight baby, cum for daddy, soak daddy’s cock.”
Falling on top of him, your body convulsed and your orgasm overtook you, soaking his length and the sheets below you once more. You knew the housekeepers would complain, they always did when the sheets were covered in bodily fluid, hell, you did too, oh the irony.
“Stay just like that baby, daddy’s gonna pump you full of cum,” he murmured.
Nicholas pinned your hands behind your back, the action unusual but making your head swoon.
“Oh, you like that don’t you?” he asked, fucking up into you hard.
“I love it daddy, faster,” you begged.
“As you wish.” His cock began slamming into you faster and soon, you felt the unmistakable feeling of something warm, filling you to the brim.
“That feels so good,” you moaned, grinding against him.
“I know baby, take daddy’s cum, take it in that tight fucking pussy.”
He slowly thrusted into you before he pulled out, the feeling leaving you empty yet fulfilled.
You laid there, tangled in each other, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests.
“Did you enjoy yourself beautiful?,” he asked, as you leaned up to look at him.
“More than I could ever imagine.”
He smiled and gave you a kiss on the lips before making his way to the bathroom and coming back with a warm cloth. He cleaned you up, littering kisses as he did.
“You’re so beautiful, I’m so lucky,” he muttered. His words made your heart flutter, would this be a regular occurrence?
“I think I’m lucky too,” you laughed, “a famous actor just took my virginity.”
“And I’d like to take it all over again in the morning, will you stay the night?” he inquired, tossing the cloth on the couch.
“I don’t think I can, I already broke a rule sleeping with a guest but literally sleeping over in a guest’s room? I’d get fired and it’s my first job I—“
He cut you off with a finger over your lips. “Shh, forget who I am? I’ll pull some strings, and even if you do get fired, I’ll easily take care of you.”
You buried your face in his firm chest and he fell onto the bed beside you. The romantic night went on with you tangled in each other’s arms and Nicholas littering kisses all over your face. Who knew being a housekeeper would score you such a big tip.
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roles switched
summary: paige let you guys switch roles
warnings: SMUTTT!! fingering giving head hair pulling squirting strap on sex overstimulation
paige x reader
you and your girlfriend was going out tonight with her teammates. you didn’t want to go but the thought of drinking got you. “babe you almost ready?” paige asks you coming into talks shared bedroom. “yeah i’m done, how do i look?” you ask paige “fucking amazing baby, can i have a 360?” you understand why she would want this because you are literally dressed like a slut right now. “yeah” you say as you begin to turn around. she grabs your ass while your in the middle of turning. “now can i have a kiss?” “you don’t have to ask.” paige says and kisses your lips.
the bar has this energy that is booming and you can see, smell, and hear it. so you know there will be a headache coming in sooner or later. so you go to the bar and order you and paige’s drink. “how can i help you ma’ma?” the bartender asked you. “um can i have a shirley temple and a vodka soda.” “yes i will have that right with you miss.” “thank you.”
you go back to the booth they are all at to give paige her drink and sit down. “here you go baby.” she looks at you surprised “thank you baby but i didn’t have to buy this for me.” she tells you. “i know i just wanted to do something nice.” she gets out of her seat to kiss you on the lips.
“babyyy” paige comes to your seat and you can already tell she had way more drinks then needed. “yes baby?” you say to her “can we leave i’m starting to feel sick and i have a headache.” she tells you and you feel bad because she looks as what she says. “aww baby yes we can leave, do you want to tell the girls bye?” you ask her. “no can you just text them i don’t fell good.” you tell her ok and yall walk out of the bar.
“baby i don’t feel so goo-.” paige tells you before she throws up into a trash can. “paige baby are you okay?” you ask her and she keeps throwing up. after what felt like hours she finally says “ok baby now we can actually leave.” so you walk her to the car and she says she ok to drive and you trust her. “baby can i have a kiss?” “i would love too but you just vomited everywhere so no sorry.”
yall are back at home for about an hour when paige says “baby can you top me tonight?” you looked at her surprised because you didn’t think she would let you top her. “um yeah if you want me to.” you tell her and she gets supper happy. “yay i can’t wait.” she tells you and that is what makes you say “we can do it tonight right now.” “oh my god yes!” she tells you as you get up and drag her to yalls shared bedroom to fuck her. “baby i need you so baddd.” paige tells you. “really how bad?” you ask her and she shoves her boxers down to show you how bad. “oh my gosh p your soaked.” “i know ma that’s how bad i want you and how much you turn me on.” she says so you waste no time in pushing her down on the bed. “OH FUCK!” paige says as you suck on her clit. “does that fell good baby?” you tease paige and she nods but you won’t accept that. “words baby.” “ye-s fuck it fe-els so go-od.” she says so you go faster. “oh god.” you can tell she’s close because her moans are turning into screams. “i’m cummin-g s-o hard.” she is now gushing in your face and her hands are pulling your hair so hard it might bleed. “good girl.” you tell her has she sits up and your up too.
you come back from the closet with a black box that you and her know to well. “ma i hope you don’t think your fucking me with that.” she says to you. “baby yes i am i’m topping you so i get choose what i do.” you tell her because you do have control so you strip out of your clothes and attach the harness on your waist. you waste no time in shoving the strap into her cunt so she lets out a cute little squeal. “baby!” you start slow so she can get use to the feeling. now that she is used to the feeling you are plowing into her at a pace that is deadly.
“oh god!” paige says as you pound into her like you’ve been doing for the past 15 minutes. she has already came 7 times going in her eighth according to her. “you gonna cum again?” you ask her teasing her. “y-eah.” she says and you can feel how tight she is so you pull out of her edging her. “baby why did you stop.” she asks you so you say “wait baby.” you get off the bed and head over to your bed side table that has a drawer full of vibrators. you pull out the biggest one and he eyes widened but your already putting it on the highest setting and placing it on her clit. “it’s too much.” she tells you and you don’t care. “i’m gon-na cum!” and just like that she is gushing and you notice something else. paige bueckers just squirted on you. “holy shit am i pissing?” she asks you and you laugh. “no baby you squirted that was hot.” she turns red from that.
after yall clean up and stuff yall lay back down. “goodnight baby i love you.” you tell her “goodnight ma i love you more and can you top me more?” she asked which earns a slap on the arm. “owwww”
finally finished this after forever…😫
taglist: @sierrale8ne @thaatdigitaldiary @lovegalor333 @lupinqs @paiges-1vur @avvwritesstufff @moshuka @paigebueckersmommy @azzibuckets @writingbuckets @ohbueckers @cosmopretty @bbydoll18xx @pb524830 @pbnbucks
#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers fic#paige x reader#paigeluvrr#tallyn fics ✨
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Giving thanks for..
Genre: smut, enemies to lovers.
Word count:2.8k+
Warnings: rough!ni-ki, shy!y/n, fingering “under the table”, worshipping, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, praising, throat-fucking, hate-fuck. Note: I love making these stories idk why but they peak my interest so much!! I know it’s not thanksgiving yet but imma be busy on those days I’m off, but plz enjoy :3 and take care of urself 💕🙏🏼
You’ve been enemies for a really long time. Ni-ki, which you couldn't stand him, had been teasing and humiliating you throughout school. But then, out of the blue, he invited you to his family's Thanksgiving dinner. Sure, there would be the usual “I‘m grateful for…” moments, so you figured nothing too surprising would unfold, right?
Today you were just chilling at home alone while your parents were at their hometown enjoying thanksgiving dinner, you felt bored, alone. Of course you didn’t want to go because you didn’t feel like it. But once you finished an hour call with them, you stared up at the ceiling from the bed.
You sigh in boredom, sitting back up from the bed. “What am I gonna do, I’m all alone.. I guess I can make dinner for myself and watch some Netflix or something.” Suddenly you receive a notification from your phone, you assume “oh! Maybe my parents sent a picture of themselves!” You check but your excited expression turns into shock and confusion.. it says: “Hey y/n, sorry to annoy you as always lol 😂, but anyways I was wondering if you’re interested in coming over to my house for thanksgiving I have no one to enjoy besides my parents.”
“What?! Ni-ki.. he seriously invited you to his thanksgiving dinner, seriously?” You tell yourself blankly staring at the message for minutes. You roll your eyes and reply:
“Fine. 😒Only because I also have nothing to do, fine I’ll come over. What time?”
He types back: “Around 6PM, it will just be a normal thanksgiving, nothing out of the ordinary. 😊”
…
It’s 6PM and you’ve just arrived in front of his home, and you ring the doorbell. You stand there waiting for him or someone to open. You know you look stunning in that red dress, which perfectly highlights your curves without being overly short. Then Niki opens the door, “Hey y/n, come on in, I’ll introduce you to my parents.” As he gestured you to walk in. “Thank you.” You say, as he shuts the front door leading you to the dining table. You see a neatly organized dinning table, with a candle in the middle.
Ni-ki clears this throat and speaks, “Mom, dad. This is y/n, a “friend” of mine I invited, I hope you guys don’t mind her.” His mom replies, “N-no we don’t mind! Hello, y/n. Please I don’t mind you inviting her over, please sit down and join us for dinner today.” You look at his mother and smile politely, as you take your seat. “Hello, Mrs. It’s nice to meet you, it’s kind enough of your son to invite me over, since my parents are at their hometown enjoying thanksgiving.” His father speaks behalf, “Oh no worries! That’s very nice of our son to do that, inviting someone like you over, you seem a very well polite girl so there’s no harm in that.” Ni-ki then sits down next to you, “Yeah, I felt like that’s a nice thing to do behalf that it’s thanksgiving, we should be kind to each other, right y/n?” As he says that sarcastically.
You feel a bit nervous about meeting his parents, but you manage to smile and nod. “Of course, it's a good thing to invite friends over." You say softly, trying not to show how anxious you really feel. To pass the time waiting for the dinner his parents and especially you talk about how you’ve been, your parents, mostly about your life. But then his father asks, “Do you have a boyfriend yet, young lady?”
You blush slightly, feeling a little embarrassed by the question. "Well, I haven't found anyone who really catches my interest yet," you admit shyly.
"Maybe one day soon though!" You add quickly, hoping to change the subject before things get too awkward.
But it gets interrupted as soon as the food arrives. You smell all of the delicious aromas wafting from the dishes. "Wow... everything looks amazing!" You exclaim enthusiastically, trying to cover up your earlier blunder. “Who’s cutting the turkey today?”
Niki looks around, his parents and you seem to be waiting for someone to cut into the turkey. He takes a deep breath and stands up. "I'll do it," he announces confidently. "After all, it's Thanksgiving.” With that said, he walks over to where the turkey is sitting and grabs a knife. He gives it one swift stroke, carving off a piece of meat before placing it onto a plate. You can’t help but deny the way he looks in that suit, the way he picks up that knife, it’s like you wanna touch him.
But you then take a bite of some turkey and gravy - it's even better than it smells! As you all savor the meal throughout the evening, saying what you’re grateful for, besides Niki.. and of course, remembering to keep dinner etiquette in mind, everything was smooth. But soon enough you feel ni-ki leaning against you, his hot breath in your ear. “You look damn good in this dress.. I can’t help but notice it so much.” You blush deeply at his compliment, your heart pounding in your chest. You're not used to receiving compliments like this, especially not from someone as attractive as him. “T-thanks.. I mean I have to look presentable to your parents..” After you finish your food, you place your fork down gently and lean back in your chair. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. “Was the food good, sweetie? I made it this morning.” His mother smiles softly at you.
Before you could respond, you feel a hand sliding up and down your thigh making you gasp quietly. “What the..” you mutter to yourself, as Ni-ki continues doing that under the table. You try to play it cool despite losing focus on the conversation.
"O-oh, your food was amazing!", you respond sincerely, doing your best to ignore Ni-ki’s wandering hand. "I've never had such delicious mashed potatoes before..." He then leans over you and whispers with a small smirk, “I didn’t invite you just for a normal thanksgiving, I also wanted something else.. to tease and make you feel humiliated in front of my parents.” But then, Ni-ki’s mother speaks trying to get your attention, “Sweetie? You okay..? I was asking you where do you plan to go for vacation next month with your parents?” Ni-ki then slides your panties aside and inserts 2 fingers inside you without warning.
“O-oh! I was thinking maybe Thailand-ah!” You say making you blush in embarrassment, “Sorry about that.. it’s just something accidentally hit me. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, doing your best to keep a neutral expression.
“Thailand sounds lovely! It’s a wonderful place to travel.. when I was young..” she continues talking while you continue trying to hold your moans infront of them two. “Ni-ki.. stop that.. it’s embarrassing..” you whisper to him. “Come on~ your pussy deserves my fingers in you now, you make me crave you so much in that dress.” He says in a low, sultry voice.
His mother notices the blush on your face and the discomfort in your voice, but assumes it's due to the heat of the room or perhaps nervousness from being in new surroundings.
"Oh dear, I apologize if we're making you uncomfortable. We just love sharing stories about our travels!", she says reassuringly.
“N-no Mrs.. it’s not your fault it’s just it’s a bit hot right now.”, as you manage to choke out between stifled moans. Ni-Ki’s father then speaks, “We’ll clean up the mess, why don’t you show her your room.”
Ni-Ki inserts a third finger, making you moan quietly. “Yes of course father, I’ll kindly show her my room.” And with that both of his parents head to the kitchen with the dirty plates, and utensils. You finally pull his hand away from your pussy, “What was that for Ni-ki!? You can’t just do that while I’m talking to them.. that’s embarrassing. I nearly came all over your hand.” He winks, “Oh really? because I really wanted that pussy of yours.. I couldn’t resist.” “Now come on, let’s head to my room, shall we~?” He takes your hand to make you stand up so you can follow Ni-ki upstairs to his room. Once the door is closed behind you, he pins you against it.
"You know," he murmurs seductively, "Your little moans were music to my ears..." Before you can respond, he silences you with a passionate kiss. His tongue explores your mouth while his hands roam freely over your body. “I should worship your pussy.. eating you out, making you moan..~”
You quickly responded blushing deep red. “N-no that’s a bad idea.. especially right now..” Hearing your protests, Ni-ki pulls away with a playful grin. "What's the fun in all this if we don't take risks?" He teases, pressing himself closer against you. “No im going home, I’m not doing your kinky ideas with you.” Ni-ki seeing you attempt to leave, grabs your wrist tightly. "Running away so soon?" He chuckles darkly, pulling you back towards him. Without warning, he kisses you passionately once more. His other hand reaches down to cup your breast roughly through the fabric of your dress.
“Mmph! F-fine I want it! But this is a one-time thing, we are still enemies.” You stumble to say, as he releases your wrist and moves to unzip your dress hastily. "Just remember..." he whispers into your ear, "This doesn't change anything between us..." And with that, he pushes you onto his bed and begins undressing you fully, and he kneels in front of you. “Let me worship your pussy.. I can tell it’s already wet from my fingers, naughty girl..”
"F-fine! Go ahead," you finally relent, biting your lip nervously. “But only this once." His tongue laps at your clit with expert precision, causing waves of pleasure to ripple through your body.
"Mmm...so tasty..." he murmurs against you before continuing his relentless assault on your sensitive nub. “Ah~! Fuck.. k-keep going..” you moan but you quickly cover your mouth making sure no one hears you. Ni-ki increases the pressure of his tongue on your clit. His hands grip your thighs tightly, holding you in place as he devours you and makes your legs tremble, "Oh God...I'm close!", you gasp out, writhing beneath him. Noticing your impending climax, Ni-ki slows his pace slightly, prolonging your torture. He looks up at you with a devilish grin.
"Not so fast, sweetheart..." he purrs, "I haven't finished yet." You whine desperately, “N-no please I’m close! I need to cum..”
"Oh, is that so?" he teases, trailing his tongue along your inner thigh. "That's the point isn't it?" he teases again, "To feel pleasure so intense that you can barely stand it?" “N-Niki!" you cry out, clenching the sheets beneath. "Please...don't tease me like this! I really need to cum.. come on.” Niki chuckles darkly, his eyes filled with mischief as he watches you squirm underneath him. He knew how to push your buttons, knew exactly what to say and do to get a rise out of you. “What's wrong, sweetness?" he purrs mockingly, "Can't handle a little teasing?" You whine again and looks at him with pleading eyes, “No! I mean yes! Just shut up and let me cum! You asshole! Please.. I need to cum so badly..!”
Niki laughs, his hot breath tickling your skin as he leans in closer.
He takes a moment to savor the desperation lacing your words. "Fine," he concedes, sliding a finger inside of you. "But only because I want to see those pretty eyes roll back into your head." “Yes please..! I’m gonna.. fuck! Gonna..”, You quickly grab a pillow to cover your moans as you cum onto his face. Niki licks up every last drop of your sweet release, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. He pulls back slowly, standing up to look down at you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, I might just fuck you right now while we at it, how about you ride me?”
"No way I’m not riding you! You’re an asshole!” As you stand up from his bed. “Plus your parents are washing dishes, we can’t just do that..they might hear us!” He smirks pushing you back onto the bed, “Oh come on.. we could make some noise, who cares about them..” He tries to persuade you. “You might like it when you’re handcuffed, I have them.”
You roll your eyes and scoff at him, “Ugh.. whatever I’ll ride you while I’m handcuffed…” “Really?” Niki asks surprised, “Well alright then.” He goes to his drawer and takes out a pair of handcuffs. “Put these on.” “Alright.”, you say as you hold out your wrists for him to cuff you. Once he locks them, he smirks, “Fuck, you look sexy like this, handcuffed.. I can easily do anything to you.” He reaches down and unzips his pants, freeing his thick member. It throbs slightly as it bobs free from its confines. "Here," he says, offering you his shaft. "Why don't you start by sucking on this?"
“Alright, I’ll please you..” You say as you lean down taking his cock in your mouth. You bob your head slowly licking his tip before sliding down further, taking half of his dick in your mouth. Without warning, he thrusts deeper into your mouth. His cock hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him. “Mmph!~Too big and deep.!” You manage to say while he doesn't stop though; instead, he continues to fuck your face ruthlessly.
You tease him back by saying, “I’ll pull my mouth out-” “No you won’t,” he says. “Or else I will kick you outta of my house and make sure you never return.” Then he forces his way inside your mouth again, his member hitting the back of your throat, forcing another round of gags from you. As he keeps fucking your throat, you slap his leg hard, trying to signal him to stop. Ignoring your weak attempt to resist, Niki continues to thrust into your mouth. He can feel the familiar tingling at the base of his spine, signaling his imminent release.
"That's it..." he groans, "I'm gonna cum..."
Before long, he explodes inside your mouth. His hot seed fills your mouth and spills onto your chin as he rides out his orgasm. "There..." he pants, "That wasn't so bad was it? Now why don't you get those pretty legs of yours moving and ride me like a good girl." “O-okay..” You stutter out as you position yourself to sit on his cock despite being handcuffed. With a single thrust, he buries himself deep within you.
"Fuck..." he groans, "So tight..." As he begins to move beneath you, bucking his hips upwards to meet each of your downward thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as they make love roughy. "Ride me baby," he growls, "Show me how much of an asshole you think I am." “Fuck.. you..! Ah~!” , you moan out quietly. “J-just don’t thrust up more..” “Oh, is that what you want?" He teases, "Don't worry, I'll make sure to keep things gentle for you." Despite his promise, he continues to thrust up into you ruthlessly. His large member filling you over and over again until both of you are panting heavily. "You like that?" he growls quietly, "You like being fucked by an asshole like me?"
“I hate you so much! Ahh~” you continue to moan out as you start to ride him faster, grinding your clit against him as you ride him. Niki groans deeply as you grind against him, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He can feel the heat building up within him again.
"Fucking hell..." he mutters, "You're such a naughty girl..." With one final thrust, he buries himself deep inside of you. His hot seed spurts inside of you as he releases inside of you. “Fuck.. I’m cumming too..!” Niki grunts as he feels you tighten around him, your own climax rippling through your body. He can feel every spasm and twitch of your pussy as you cum. "Good girl," he murmurs, "That was quite the show." As he uncuff and removes the handcuffs from your wrists, “There.. am I still an asshole to you, y/n? Despite panting you responded, “n-no.. you were good, I give you that. I guess we aren’t really enemies anymore.”
Suddenly you both hear a knock, his father was yelling from the door while Ni-ki’s mother was standing next to him, “Ni-ki, y/n, Are you okay? I hear some noise and wanted to make sure you guys were okay!”
Niki sighs as he hears his parent's voices, realizing that they've been too loud. He quickly pulls up his pants and straightens out his shirt. "Yeah dad, we're fine," he calls out, "Just having a little fun." He looks at you with a smirk, "Guess we better clean up real quick."
You smirk and laugh at him, “I told you this could’ve happened.” He laughs softly, "Yeah, you did." Niki gives you a playful wink, "Maybe next time we should try to be quieter especially you, y/n." As he listens to his parent's footsteps fade away, he relaxes again. Turning back to you, he grins mischievously. “One last thing.., I’m grateful today for eating your pussy, y/n.”
#Writercookies🎀#enhypen#ni ki#enhypen niki#niki enha#nishimura riki#niki x reader#niki x y/n#enha fanfic#enha smut
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*𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨*
Pairing: Jisung x Reader (Smut)
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Aphrodisiac, Oral (M), Choking/Hair Pulling(M), Multiple: Rounds/Orgams/Creampies, Riding, Unprotected sex. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.
Find Request Here
-🖤
Jisung had just came home from the store. He had gotten some new chocolates he said tasted really good. When he showed them to you, you couldn’t help but laugh “Ji you know what these are right?” You asked.
“Uhm- good chocolate?” He said.
“These are aphrodisiac chocolate, they’re supposed to make you super horny” you said laughing even harder.
He rolled his eyes “those don’t work”
“Whatever you say, we still going into the studio?” You asked.
“Yeah I gotta get that song done” he replied back.
A little bit later you both headed to the studio. He sat down to work zoning in on his song while you sat on the couch playing on your laptop. It had only been about an hour since he had eaten those chocolates but boy were they hitting him hard now. He felt hot, his cock painfully hard for no reason. He could see the little spot on his pants from the precum. Any movement he made his cock rubbed against his pants making him bite back a moan. He was so so sensitive.
In his clouded thoughts you had gotten up to see how the song was coming along. Your hand brushing over his back making his body even hotter. “Y/n” he whispered.
When you answered back with a hum he turned his chair around. His eyes were hazy, face a bit red. You could see the outline of his cock in his sweats. “Oh- thought those didn’t work hmm?” You said with a grin.
“I’m so hard it almost hurts” he whimpered. “Help me please” he said those big doe eyes looking up at you.
You wanted to have a little fun with this. Jisung was a pretty needy person as it was however this was next level. You wanted to see how much he’d beg “tell me how much you want me, tell me what you want me to do” as you said straddled him. The pure pressure of your body against him was enough to have him drooling. “I want you so badly please- I fuck- do anything I just need you baby” he whined. He grabbed ahold of your hips rolling himself against you. “Please anything y/n fuck-“ he groaned out.
When you got up from him making him whine loudly. Hands chasing after you, you couldn’t help but feel turned on. Jisung was begging so nicely. “Gotta take your pants off Ji” you said getting down on your knees to pull them down. When his cock was finally free he let out a sigh of relief, his cock was so hard. The amount of precum leaking from the tip had your body moving before you could think. You quickly licked over the head his eyes going wide as his hips bucked up. “S-sensitive” he mustered out.
His words only driving you more as you took him back your throat. His head falling back hands frantically gripping at your head. He pushed his hips up to meet your movement letting out the most desperate moans. “I’m already so fucking close-“ he said.
He gripped your head rougher before pushing into your mouth faster. Fucking into your mouth with such need. His cock head hitting the back of your throat. You swirled your tongue around his cock as he used your mouth. You could feel the drool dripping from the sides of your mouth, eyes blinking as tears pricked at them. When you brought your hand up to massage his heavy balls his body stuttered. “Shit- shit!” He moaned out before pushing harshly back your throat. Streams of cum pouring down your throat.
You swallows around him before his hands came to cup your face. He moved quickly pulling your body up to him, slipping your sweats down. He groaned seeing you had no panties on “since when did you not wear panties?” He said.
“Since my dummy of a boyfriend took aphrodisiacs” you said with a chuckle.
You positioned your body on top of him his hands gripping at your hips once more. When you aligned him with your cunt he gave no warnings before pushing into you. He bottomed out quickly his long thick cock hitting your cervix almost instantly. He pulled your body to him fucking up into you ruthlessly. His pace was fast and deep his already overstimulated cock pounding into you.
His nails were digging ever so nicely into your skin, his head in the crook of your neck. His moans were full of need and desperation. “Ji- fuck you feel so good- gonna have to get you more of those” you teased.
He nipped at your neck in response “you’re gonna take them with me next time” he said. He wrapped his arms around you lifting you up. He wrapped your legs around him moving you to the couch. Laying you back down against the couch he pushed your legs up to your chest. His hand came down to toy with your clit before his movements continued.
The new angle made him feel even deeper. His balls smacked against your skin as his pace became quicker. “Fuck- fuck- y/n you feel- fuck you feel to good- m’close” he whined out. Your hand came up to his head gripping at his hair before tugging on it slightly. He liked his hair being pulled almost more than he liked being choked.
The tug was enough to send him over the edge, his cock twitching as it painted your walls. He didn’t stop though oh no. If anything it made him more desperate to do it again. To have you cum with him this time. His hand that was on your clit moved down swiping the cum that dared to fall. He brought his fingers up to you and you happily sucked them clean. Jisung may have a bit of an oral fixation cause when you kept sucking on his fingers he let out the most pornagraphic moan you’ve ever heard from him.
His body was becoming a bit limp from already cuming so much. You took the opportunity of his jello like body to push him back on his back. You straddled him once more before bouncing on his cock. He moaned loudly hands digging back into your sock ass. “Gonna cum again for me ji? Gonna fill me full and let me cum all over your sensitive cock hmm?” You said.
He nodded “y-yes, please- fuck- cum baby” he said. Your hand quickly came down wrapping perfectly around his throat. You rode him relentlessly. His cock bullying its way against your cervix. Your head falling back in the pleasure. You jumped feeling Jisungs hand playing with your clit again. The way your cunt clenched around him had him seeing stars. He dug his feet into the couch before thrusting into you.
His thrusts met yours “gonna-“ you said softly before Jisung thrusted up once more. “Cumming!” You almost screamed as your high flooded over you. Waves of pleasure head your cunt squeezing him hard. His mouth hung open as he came once more. Both of your bodies shaking. You let go of jisung throat laying your body against his.
Both of you tried to regain your breathing. It was only when you went to move did you notice. Jisung was still hard. “How much of that chocolate did you eat?” You asked.
“Uhm.. like 3 bars” he said softly.
“Jisung- are you serious? You’re probably gonna be hard for like 2 hours” you said with a chuckle.
“Let’s go home and I’ll fuck you on every surface” he said.
“How about we get a drink first and then go home” he smiled.
He nodded. When you got home he kept his promise. He fucked you in every room and any place he could. His cock only softening after almost the 10th orgasm. He was so raw by that point his poor cock red and way over sensitive. You were no better though. You had cum about half that amount however the last orgasm had you squirting all over him.
You both laid on the floor breathing heavily before he got up. He ran you both a warm bath grabbing water and some snacks. With no words he pulled you to the bathroom. Snuggled up in the bath he kissed you softly. “Remind me to read labels next time” he chucked.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget
#stray kids#skz#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#han jisung scenarios#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids drabble#stray kids fanfic#Han jisung smut#han jisung x reader#han jisung drabbles#han jisung fanfic#kpop smut#kpop drabbles#bangchan#changbin#han jisung#seungmin#hyunjin#jeongin#Lee Felix#Lee know
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long nights, soft days | joel miller [1.2k]
joel comforts reader while she is on her period.
c: references to blood, periods.
beams of late-afternoon sunshine flowed in from the window, bathing the room in a buttery glow.
it wasn’t often that you allowed yourself to sleep in so much, but then again, last night had been… a lot. joel could get insatiable sometimes, and there were usually little to no warning signs. when he did get like that, you slept for far longer than normal.
but this time, when you tried to roll over, all you felt was warmth pooling between your legs. familiar and sticky, you instantly knew what was going on.
unfortunately, the end of the world didn’t mean the end of periods.
you clamped your legs shut and willed yourself to not feel the twinges of pain, both in your core and legs. one was biology. the other was joel.
speaking of joel… the room was empty, but judging by the angle of the sun, he should have been home already. you stilled and listened for a moment. sure enough, pots and pans clanging in the kitchen downstairs alerted you to his presence.
a dull ache settled over your stomach, and you squeezed your eyes shut, groaning in pain. it didn’t even occur to you that ellie could still be home, or that she would hear you.
so when she burst into the room, you sat up in shock, your muscles cramping again. “woah. lady troubles?” she asked, hands up in a placating gesture.
“no– i mean, yes. can you just�� can you help me to the bathroom?”
“yeah, of course. hold on, let me–” she ducked out of the bedroom, and a moment later, you heard her yell, “joel! she’s awake! can you bring up some pain meds?” then she was back, her arm looped under yours and wrapped around your back, supporting most of your weight. the two of you made an odd pair, hobbling to the bathroom.
your period had always been particularly bad. maybe if there were no infected, you would try to seek a diagnosis, but as it was, it hardly seemed important. there were more pressing issues to deal with.
like your family. you’d been with joel and ellie for a good six months, and nothing felt better than being known by them. ellie had started bringing you the shiny bits of glass she encountered on her outings in jackson, and joel…
well, joel was your partner. in more ways than one. he supported you, he cared about you, and he bandaged your wounds. and he fucked you stupid with increasing frequency, but that’s beside the point.
you took a seat on the lip of the bathtub and watched ellie gather some things she thought you might need. “do you prefer pads or tampons?”
“either. whatever. which do you have less of?”
she looked at you appraisingly. “i’ll just put both in here.”
“what are you making?”
“it’s a basket of period supply stuff. for you to keep next to you in bed.”
“oh. thank you, that’s– that’s really sweet of you.”
“yeah, of course.” she had to jump to reach the next item– chocolate from the top shelf. “i know how hard these are for you.”
before you could respond, joel had shouldered his way into the master bathroom. his eyes skipped over ellie completely and landed on you. his brow furrowed. “y’okay, hon?”
“she’s on her period.”
“ellie!” he scolded, the southern twang especially obvious in his distress.
“what? it’s true!”
a brief smile flashed across your face, but it was dimmed by another layer of pain settling on top of the first. joel noticed; he always did.
“c’mon, honey. let’s get you to bed.” he reached for you with both arms, and you thought for a moment he was going to help you walk, like ellie had. but suddenly he was holding you against his chest, your arms wrapped around his neck.
“joel!”
ellie laughed from somewhere behind you.
“what?” he asked innocently.
then he was laying you down on your bed gently, wincing with you at the change in position. “it’s okay, sweet thing, i’m so sorry.”
“do you have those pain meds?”
his eyes brightened with the reminder, and one of his hands went into his pocket to retrieve a small bottle of white pills. “ibuprofen,” he said, placing two of them into your open palm.
“thank you.”
“of course.” he looked over the room for a moment, then back at you and the bed. “where’s your water?”
“i don’t– i don’t have any.”
you shrunk into the bed under his withering gaze. “baby. what did i tell you?”
“i have to take care of myself?”
“yes.” he heaved a long-suffering sigh, and you smiled up at him. “i’ll get you a glass. don’t dry-swallow those.”
you nodded, cradling them in your open palms reverently. he disappeared out the door, but you could still hear his footsteps on the stairs and in the kitchen. he had heavy footfalls; part of you thought you would be able to hear him even if he was outside.
ellie brought the basket into your room. “okay, this has everything you might need. pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, chocolate, my heating pad, the works.” she rolled her eyes. “obviously joel keeps the pain-killers under lock and key. he’s so paranoid.”
you shared a smile with her, and then she nodded sharply. “okay, i’m leaving. going to make dinner with tommy and maria. i won’t be back until later. will you guys be okay?”
“you know we’re supposed to be the parents here, right?”
but she was already out the door. “whatever,” she called behind her, laughing.
you weren’t alone for long. joel’s footsteps came up the stairs and into your room, and he carried with him a glass of water and a bowl. he set both down on your nightstand. “i made soup for you,” he explained.
“just now?” a smile played on your lips, pulling an eye-roll from him.
“no, silly girl, i was cooking this whole afternoon. while you were sleeping.”
“well, you did keep me up late.”
his brow furrowed. “is that why you’re feeling so bad? i mean i know you’re on your period, but is it made worse by that? i’m so sorry, sweet girl, let me make it up to you.”
he was already kneeling at the edge of the bed before you could even get a word out. “no, no, no, joel, it has nothing to do with that!! really. nothing at all.”
he eyed you warily.
“i promise! it’s totally unrelated! please, just– can you just–”
“yes, sweet girl?”
fuck. “can you please just lay down with me?” it was almost embarrassing asking joel for anything soft. you knew he wasn’t a particularly gentle man. you were surprised he was even doing this for you.
his entire face softened. “oh, honey.” and then his shoes were off and he was under the covers, curled around you. he tucked his chin into your neck and inhaled deeply.
you giggled. “what are you doing?”
he was quiet for a moment. “just thinking about you.” his hands came up to your stomach and began rubbing soft circles into the flesh there.
“what about me?”
he didn’t answer, and when you shifted in his arms to look back, his eyes were closed. but his grip tightened, and you allowed him to pull you closer, into his warmth. another smile danced along your lips.
who needs a heating pad when you have joel miller?
#joel miller x reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfiction#tlou#the last of us x reader#the last of us imagine#the last of us#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fanfiction#fanfiction
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Wip Wednesday!
Thank you @buick118 for the tag 💞 tagging @cranberrymoons @clytemnestraaa and anyone else who’s writing right now!
This is from a buddie college au I’ve been toying with after a conversation with cly got me in my feels about mature student single father Eddie bonding with post-peru Buck over a college elective they’re both bad at in different ways. Under a cut cause it’s a long snippet :)
Eddie gets the text a little after eight on Friday while he’s curled up on the sofa with Christopher half asleep by his side. Party at mine, u in? Followed by an address in an area he’s unfamiliar with.
It’s from Buck, because of course it is.
I didn’t know you lived in a frat house.
The tv’s turned low, so as not to disturb Abuela and her friends’ weekly card game, though they should be finishing up soon. Pilar likes to be in bed by nine, though Ana Maria keeps trying to convince Abuela to let her leave first, then continue the game when she’s gone.
Or so he’s heard.
It’s just a normal house lol
Normal house party
There’s even going to be girls…
Eddie laughs, though it turns to guilt when he realises the noise disturbed Chris.
“What’s so funny, daddy?”
He’s getting so big. So wide-eyed and happy, so trusting.
“Nothing, kiddo.” He slowly takes Chris by the arms and, when he receives no protest, pulls his son all the way into his lap. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”
“No, I wasn’t sleepy,” Chris lies. He’s getting really good at his developmentally appropriate lying. Which is a weird thing to be proud of, Eddie knows. But as soon as it became apparent Chris wasn’t going to make certain milestones, or would be late to them, or would need surgery to even have a chance to see them…
So Eddie just lets himself hold twice as much pride when Chris lies, or when he reads his book aloud, or can tell the time on Abuela’s big red analog kitchen clock.
“Well, you might not be sleepy, but-“ Eddie yawns as long and wide as he can until Chris is giggling beside him- “I definitely am. Do you think maybe you could try and go to bed, so I can too?”
Chris looks at him with furrowed concentration, then down at the sofa they’re sharing which, when he goes to sleep in Abuela’s spare room, will become Eddie’s bed. And concedes, a little.
“Okay, but I’m not even a little teeny bit tired so I think I can get in bed but stay awake.”
They brush their teeth together, and change into pyjamas, and by the time Chris is settled and Eddie’s returned to the sofa he has four more texts from Buck.
And booze
Probably some casual games like beer pong
But yeah it’s kicking off around 10 I think
I’m working until 11 so if you wait til then I could even pick you up?
If you live nearby
Wow.
#my wip#buddie#911#idk this fandom seems v anti-college au for various reasons but im having a lot of fun with this one so far#i think it helps that it’s essentially a s2 au in that i haven’t really aged them down so much as fuzzed the circumstances#college au
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Price coming home from deployment, itching with anticipation to see you after weeks apart- only when he enters your home, you’re nowhere to be seen. Anxiety bubbles in him, you always greeted him the second you heard the doorknob twist. Your shoes are neatly placed by the door, keys on the table next to your purse - but where are you?
Suddenly as he’s still scanning the first floor for any indication of where you went, he hears a hacking cough coming from upstairs. Heart beating in his throat he quickly shucks off his shoes and hat, racing up to your shared bedroom. His fingers are grazing the doorknob as he hears sniffling on the other side.
John opens the door carefully, and when he sees you in bed, he’s relieved but worry still swims in his stomach. Tissues litter the floor around your side of the bed, cold and flu medicine bottles haphazardly strewn over your bedside table, a box of saltine crackers spilling out along side. He sees your form under the pile of blankets shielding you, your flushed face the only visible part of your body.
“Oh darling…” he slowly makes his way over, not wanting to startle you.
Your eyes open slightly feeling the shift of the bed under his weight. He can tell by the confused look in your eyes that you’re trying to figure out if he’s really here, or if another fever induced hallucination of him has appeared before you.
“John?” You whimper, trying to sit up.
He stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “It’s me love, I’m home.” His hand moves to your forehead, feeling the heat radiate from your skin. “You’re burning up baby, how long ‘ave you been sick?” The frown on his face is prominent. He can’t stand to see you like this, hates knowing he was away while you had to deal with this illness all alone. He should have been here to nurse you back to health, to take care of you.
Before you’re able to answer, a coughing fit interrupts you. John coos at you, rubbing his hand along your chest. When you stop, you reply, voice croaking from not using it for several days, “S-Since Wednesday,” you place your hand over your eyes, the light shining through your window becoming painful, “I think I’m dying.”
John hums, moving some of your hair out of the way of your sweaty face. “I don’ think so, my love. I think you’re just very, very sick.”
“I wish I was then, it would be better than leaking snot everywhere.” You moan, chest aching with every word.
His shoulders shake in a gentle laugh, you always were a bit dramatic when you became sick. Leaning down, he begins to pick up the stray tissues, wiping up crumbs from the saltines.
“I’m sorry for the mess,” you mumble, “thought I’d be better when you got back to clean.”
John shushes you. “There’s no need to apologize, love. Let me take care of you, yeah?” The way your eyes close shut as he rubs your temple with his thumb makes his own eyes crinkle, smile etching his lips. Even when sick, you’re still the most beautiful thing in the world to him.
After finishing cleaning up, John moves to your bathroom to start a bath, adding in your favorite bubble bath scent and lighting a candle that shouldn’t be too overwhelming. Your eyes are shut when he comes back, clearly exhausted. They only open as you feel strong arms slide underneath your body, face flushing even more as you’re picked up like you weigh nothing.
“Come on darling,” John whispers into your hair, “let me get you cleaned up and we can go watch a movie together, I’ll make you some tea too.”
#errrrmmmmm I haven’t written fanfiction in a very long time#I’m sick and thought of price taking care of me#cod x reader#John price x reader#cod mwii#cod#captain john price#john price x gn!reader#price x reader#price x you#cod modern warfare#John price x you#price call of duty#john price x y/n#price x y/n#John price#captain John price x you#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare
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For @tommygiving
Tommy parks his truck and turns the engine off. He has been smiling since he woke up this morning, knowing that he is going to spend the entire day with Evan.
Before getting out of the car, he looks in the rearview mirror and fixes his hair. Evan likes to pull on his curls so Tommy has gotten to wear it a bit longer than he normally would. Once he is satisfied with the way he looks, he turns and just as he is about to open the door, he sees Evan exiting his building and bouncing towards him.
As always, Evan looks amazing, he is wearing a blue sweater that makes his eyes pop, and some black jeans that accentuate his big and strong thighs perfectly. He also seems to be in a hurry, since in no time at all he is opening the passenger side door.
“Good morning, gorgeous!” Evan greets him, leaning over and giving him a way too short for Tommy’s liking kiss.
“Good morning, love!” Tommy replies. “I was about to go up… I always go up. Are you that excited to go to the supermarket?”
“Yeah, I’m really excited! I even have my clipboard, see?” Evan says, waving the clipboard for emphasis.
Tommy chuckles. “I can see that. Ok then, let’s go!”
—
“Are you sure you are ok?” Tommy asks for the second time.
“What? Yes, I’m ok… why? Don’t I look alright?” Evan asks in a slightly hysterical way. “I’m alright!”
Tommy raises one eyebrow in disbelief. “Evan, you have been all fidgety and acting all nervous since… since you got in the truck, actually. What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” Evan says, not so convincingly.
“Evan,” Tommy sighs. “Look, you do know that I don’t care about the food or the decorations or anything like that, right? You don’t need to put too much pressure on yourself to try to host the perfect Thanksgiving… it will be perfect no matter what because we are going to be spending it together. And that’s all I want.”
Evan’s posture relaxes minimally, his eyes go as soft as the smile tugging at his lips. “You’re right, it will be perfect because we will be together.”
They share a sweet but short kiss, both aware that they are in the middle of a supermarket with lots of people desperately buying all kinds of stuff for Thanksgiving.
“Should we see if we are lucky enough to find a turkey?” Tommy asks as he intertwines their fingers and starts to move across the aisle.
“Turkey?” Evan yelps.
Tommy stops walking and turns to look at him in surprise and confusion. “Yes? I mean… Aren’t we having turkey?”
Evan ducks his head, rubs at the back of his neck, and starts to drag the tip of his shoes along the ground.
“Evan?”
“Well… I was thinking that maybe… just maybe! We could go vegan this time?” Evan asks sheepishly.
“Oh! Uhhh, yeah, sure, ok. We can do that if that’s what you want.”
“Yeah? Awesome! Thank you,” Evan says, beaming.
If Tommy hadn’t been blinded by Evan’s beautiful smile, and by the way it made his eyes sparkle, he would have noticed that in his enthusiasm Evan had started to walk backwards, right into a display of canned cranberry sauce. As it is, Tommy is too late to fully stop him. He grabs him by the arm and tries to pull him away but by then Evan has already lost his balance and he ends up falling over the cans and pulling Tommy along.
“Oh my god!” Evan mumbles, on the floor and covered in cranberry sauce. “Ouch.”
In the same position as him, Tommy nods, agreeing, “Yeah… ouch.”
“Are you guys ok?” One of the supermarket workers asks them, looking down at them.
“Peachy,” Tommy mutters.
“I’m so, so sorry! I can’t believe I did this! It was a mistake… I’m so clumsy sometimes,” Evan says apologetically while sitting down slowly.
“It’s ok. It happens, not that often, but it happens,” Susan, as her name tag reads, says. “Are any of you hurt?”
“No, just embarrassed,” Evan replies.
“Tomorrow… that’s when we will be feeling it,” Tommy groans, standing up and giving a hand to Evan.
“Should we clean it up?” Evan asks hesitantly.
“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Susan reassures him. “The facilities are near the bakery section, by the way.”
They thank Susan and go to the bathroom to wash a little bit of the sauce.
“This is not going well,” Evan complains.
“Don’t worry about it… think about it this way, it will be a funny story to tell everyone,” Tommy says, helping Evan with cleaning his lovely curls.
“No one will know about this, Tommy. No one!”
Tommy laughs and kisses him on the cheek. “Alright, my lips are sealed. Should we continue with the shopping?”
“Ugh, yes! We don’t really have any other choice,” Evan says, pouting.
—
Evan starts to get fidgety again once they are back in the truck and driving to his loft.
“Hey! We’ve got all the ingredients you need, right? It will be great, I know it,” Tommy tries to reassure him, his hand reaching over from the steering wheel and grabbing one of Evan's hands.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Evan gives him a barely there smile that is not fooling anybody.
The nervousness and fidgeting get worse as they approach Evan’s door. He even takes his time opening it, doing it as slowly as possible. As soon as he opens it, though, he pulls Tommy inside and quickly closes and locks the door.
Completely bewildered by the action, Tommy puts the groceries down. “Evan, what is go- what the hell is that?”
There, by the loft window, is a cage. A cage with a turkey in it. A very much alive turkey.
“It’s a turkey,” Evan replies too casually.
“A tur- a turk… why do you have a turkey?” Tommy asks him, beyond confused. He even pinches his arm, trying to see if he is having a weird dream. Or maybe he got concussed when they fell in the supermarket.
“So, funny story,” Evan starts. “You see, yesterday, we had a call to this place and this dude had an illegal turkey.”
Tommy blinks once, twice, but he remains confused. “Ok? That doesn’t explain the turkey in your loft though.”
“Right… the thing is that the dude was trying to get him to fight, sort of like cockfighting, you know? So, he is quite aggressive.”
“How aggressive?” Tommy asks, taking a step back.
He is suddenly having flashbacks of when they had responded to that call with Maurice… he shivers all over.
“Quite a lot, unfortunately. That’s why I begged Bobby to let me take him to one of the farm sanctuaries or a center where they rehabilitate animals,” Evan tells him with a bright smile.
Tommy doesn’t know where to start. “And Bobby just said yes?”
“Well, I had to be really convincing, say that I was afraid that Alex here would end up getting killed, and I might have also said that I was going to take him to a farm yesterday,” Evan says, blushing but shrugging his shoulders. “But I was too tired and today I already had plans with you… so I will take him tomorrow.”
“Ok, so you aren’t actually planning to keep him, then?” Tommy asks, extremely relieved, and ignoring the fact that of course already named the turkey.
Evan opens his mouth but gets interrupted by Alex gobbling, startling them both.
“Jesus, that’s loud,” Tommy says, resisting the urge to cover his ears.
“He is, which is why I was hoping that we could keep him in your house? I’m not allowed to have pets here,” Evan asks, looking adorable, peering at him through his eyelashes.
Sighing in resignation, Tommy nods. One day he will be able to say no to Evan, but today is not that day.
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invisible string colin zabel x gn! reader
a/n : had this idea long long ago and finally had time to finish it and thankyou @doll3tt33 your invisible string colin! bot still one of my fav. say i have no idea how forensic and police work i just thought this makes sense so lol just ignore it lmao. this is purely fluff and awkward uninteresting whatever only use y/n for once also apologies if theres any grammatical errors english isnt my first. sorry. i love colin zabel.
every time you cope with all the paperwork, your mind is filled with various worries. well, it's nothing new for you because as always, you just want everything to be easier, though it'll almost occupying your mind all week. this is the moment you realize that one of the papers your team is trying to identify is missing. or maybe it's misplaced? how many times have you flipped through that document?
you let out a deep sigh, hoping to relax your mind a bit. if it's really gone, the only option is to ask for a copy of the document that detective colin zabel brought this morning. you don't even know who he is. just a name in a card. maybe you'll send him an e-mail or just go right to the station? It's not a big deal, really, it's just that you want your document to be nice and neat.
the clock ticking sounds too damn loud— it's too late to continue. there's no reason to stay any longer, so you decide to go home. you shut down your computer and lock the lab door. the night is cold and the fog melt obsecured the figure behind every window, though your throat feels so hot and dry. as you walk down the stairs, there are still a few people lingering in the building, and you find yourself standing in front of the vending machine.
colin is busy with his phone whilst sipping a can of dr. pepper. he glances at you as you stand there for a while. eventually, your eyes meet with his.
stranger. no smile or anything.
colin returns his focus to his phone, and you realize you've been holding a can of dr. pepper.
a few days later, you decide to visit a coffee shop that just had its grand opening. it feels good and sipping a cup of coffee makes you sober, and as sober mean a horrible thought accured to you. shitty missing document. there’s still no reply from detective colin zabel to your e-mail. it's unbelievable how a nice coffee only exists to be sabotaged by a small trouble on your thought.
and there he is. a man at the vending machine. you discreetly glance at him while he holds his coffee and seems to recognize you as well. no smile, he just leaves without saying a word.
do you believe in fate? now you do cause you accidentally run into him, again, while you do your grocery. this time, your eyes meet for almost five seconds until you decide to smile at him. he returns your smile and then continues walking.
is that it? you wish you could just bump your cart into him and say hi.
a few weeks later, you finally meet him again under a better circumstances— at emily’s wedding— your friend’s wedding.
“may i?” that’s the first time you hear his voice, friendly and gentle, he aims the chair beside you. you turn to him and see him smiling with dimples on his cheeks. gosh he’s beautiful.
“sure,” you take a deep breath and began to adjust your sit for no reason. fuck. you know that you're gonna make this awkward.
“you here for emily?” he asks, sitting comfortably with his legs crossed.
“yeah,” you nod. “how do you know?” you furrow your brow with suspicious look while he just shrugs and smiles.
“i just guessed. i saw you talking to her a lot.”
“a lot, huh.” you both laugh. sure, you talked to emily a lot, or was he just watching you a lot? “what about you?”
“i’m here for brad,” ah... the groom’s friend. “a colleague.”
that reminds you of your conversation with brad, where you asked about detective colin zabel, who hadn’t responded to your e-mail. but brad just said the detective was busy. maybe you could ask this man.
“oh, so.... you’re a cop?” you nod, confirming your assumption.
“something like that, yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck, which you’re a hundred percent sure doesn’t itch. this was fair enough. now it makes you less worried you might ruined it because you too damn awkward.
“cool. and i’ve seen you… a few times before.”
“yeah,” he chuckles, “we’ve bumped into each other.... a few times.”
there’s a brief moment of silence, with neither of you saying a word. only the sound of breathing and the slow music revolves around. so, you decide to open the conversation again.
“do you know detective colin zabel?” you ask, turning your head to him. colin's heart skips a beat when you mention his name, and he looks at you with a silly grin.
“yeah... yes, i do. what about it?”
“oh nothing," you keep your eyes to your feet before you continue. "it’s just that i sent him an e-mail a few weeks ago." here you go, sort of like an easy shortcut to just blabbering about your work to stranger. a bad habit. "well, i don’t know him but i work at the forensic lab and i was sorting through some documents. it seems like one got misplaced in the copy i sent to him. brad said he’s always busy.”
“oh…” colin's face suddenly turns red, and he vaguely remembers the document.
“is he always that busy?” you ask.
“….yeah, always. uh yeah… not really,” colin responds shortly.
“it’s been weeks, and i’ve e-mailed him three times with no reply. i dont know, it shouldn't be hard to be a little..... cooperative?" the last word came out like whisper yet playful and your words made colin laugh a bit strange. wow.. he is having fun. “called dick for a reason i guess,” you say it nonchalantly and it makes colin laugh harder this time. you can’t help but laugh with him.
“yeah, uncooperative dick,” he nods. it’s almost funny to you that you hope this conversation will lead to both of you guys rambling about work. wow adulthood.
“see?” your eyes search his eyes excitingly, as if you wait for him to continue. “are all detective like that?”
colin shook his head without saying anything. he studied your face without even realize it could make you uncomfortable. you inhale deeply when eyes to eyes connected, heat start to creep your cheeks.
“sorry, i uh… i didn’t mean to....vent?”
“nah, it’s okay, no worries.” he shakes his head sheepishly. “i’ll make sure he replies to your e-mail tomorrow.”
“really?”
“really.”
his eyes are so dark yet comforting.
“thanks. i’m y/n, by the way.”
“i’m colin. colin zabel.”
.
.
.
and that’s it. wish you can just run away fast and leave the earth. embarrassment weighs heavily on your mind and your smile disappeared instantly.
“you’re joking.”
“am not.”
“oh god.”
you lower your head and hide your face in the palm of your hands, as you try to cover up your sin. “hey, it’s fine. sorry for being uncooperative… dick,” he’s still chuckling, and there was a definite tone of teasing in it.
“jesus now you tell me,” you mumble.
“okay, okay now, listen to me.” he tries to remove your hands from your face. “i’m—”
“wait. no, me. i am sorry” his big masculin hands enveloped yours and you found yourself blushing and so was shy to face him. you didn’t even realize you just interrupted him.
“well— okay, now we’re both sorry,” he nods reassuring and for a few seconds, his hand still holds yours. clearly this thick tension gonna be one of your newest core memory. probably his too?
“…so embarrassing.” you shake your head a little and murmur almost like to yourself.
“i know, but it’s nice to finally know you.”
•
•
•
another notes: thankyou so much for reading this. sorry i took your precious time for this shitty writing thing. every like comment and reblog are appreciate<3
#colin zabel#colin zabel x reader#colin zabel x you#mare of easttown#evan peters#not very proud but my writing!#dont come at me i dont even know whos emily and brad i picked them randomly
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Thanks for the tag @clonethirstingisreal
I’m going to do one of each, because I thought that would be fun.
last movie: the last Jedi. I mean, it has everything for me. It has my favourite interpretation of Luke Skywalker. It has Leia slapping Poe. It has the wonderful captain Holdo, who TBH deserved to get to slap him at least one more time in my opinion. And, most importantly, it has my babies, the precious adorable creatures who have never done anything wrong a day in their lives. Porgs! If you know me, you know how much I love Porgs. So really, it shouldn’t be too surprising that this was my most recent watch. Also, I’m re-watching all of the sequel trilogy while reading their companion novelization’s, so yeah, that’s just where I’m at in terms of that
show, currently, I am re-watching Star Wars rebels, and my most recent episode was season three, episode 10: an inside man, which sidenote, was a lot more traumatizing than I remembered it being. Constantly kept going wait, this is a kids show?? Which honestly, is just pretty standard procedure for Star Wars animation.
most recent book: so, a bit of a bragging moment. I started, and subsequently finished, reading phase 2 of the high republic this month, which honestly kind of shocked me, because upon learning that phase 2 was prequel‘s, I was less than enthusiastic to dive into it. But once I did, I pretty clearly just started absolutely tearing through it, and my most recent finish was path of vengeance, by Kavan Scott, which is a pretty superb young adult novel set in THR era.
tagging: @eclec-tech sorry if you’ve already been tagged. I’m too lazy to go back and check🤣 all of my mutuals kind of huddle around the same circles, so if you happen to see this and are interested, consider this your invitation as well to join
Tag Game!!!
What’s the last Star Wars media (movie/TV show/book/video game) you interacted with??
I’ll go first…The Mandalorian Season 3 Episode 8: The Return! (Mod Kyber)
No Pressure Tags: @fionas-frenzy @lonewolflupe @littletroggo @general-ida-raven @kotemf @tlmtwelve @gars-weaponeer @clonethirstingisreal @totallywizard07 @fiveminutetrash
✨If you’d like to be added to the Galactic Gift Gathering Tag Game Tag List…let us know!✨
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if youre still taking prompts, could i request 19 with 12!donnie and metalhead— i’ve been missing those two a bit haha
19 = ⚡️-> High voltage
“Hey bud.”
Metalhead chirps as Donnie pats his head, speaking through a yawn. “Yeah, I’m back up. Robot’s not gonna built itself.”
Metalhead trails him to his desk. Donnie picks up the sketchbook, carapace scratching the wood as he sits down beside it. The pen taps his cheek mindlessly. He leans the paper towards the watching companion, asking, “Look good?”
Metalhead raises a hand and touches the paper.
Donnie sighs, “Yeah, me neither.”
He taps the sketchbook against his forehead a few times before he stands. “Back to work.”
Metalhead is there when he stumbles, providing a head for him to catch his balance on. A soft chirp as he goes over to the generator on his desk, but Donnie only opens his toolbox. “Don’t worry about it. Just been a long night.”
He stops at his side to peek over the desk. Then he looks at Donnie. His creator nods drowsily, “Fine, long nights. Really, Metalhead, I’m perfectly capable of missing a few hours.”
When he reaches over, his hand bumps the toolbox and knocks it to the floor. He stares at it, shoulders slumped, as Metalhead begins picking up the tools. Metal hands offer the red container.
Donnie takes it. “Thanks. Gotta watch what I’m doing.”
He places it on his desk and pulls out a screwdriver. Metalhead watches him work for a while, catching every mistake and fumble, patient when his hands shake. His creator slams his fist on the desk and it knocks the pile of the books off the other side.
Metalhead sets a hand on his arm. He takes a deep breath, brushes at his eyes, and says, “I can do this.”
Metalhead takes his word for it and shifts his attention on the mess. He walks away as his creator pulls out a pair of pliers, examining the machine. He picks them up and turns, a danger symbol taking over his vision when Donnie moves to cut the active wire.
The hardcovers hit the floor, the pliers start to slice through, and then Metalhead is ramming his shoulder into Donnie’s plastron. His creator hits the ground, crying out in anger, and Metalhead’s hand closes around the grips, accidentally finishing the job.
The power surge hits his systems all at once. His screen goes wild, decorated in Human and Kraang, and then everything shuts down-
-to power back up a moment later in suboptimal condition.
His fuzzy vision slowly sorts itself out, fingers glitching when he tries to turn his head. His chirp crackles when he tries to speak, frantic screen failing to get a lock on his creator’s expression.
“I did it!” He gasps, shaky hands cupping his head. “Oh, buddy, you’re okay. I cannot believe I was so- but I can fix this. I can fix this.”
Metalhead’s voice box crackles. Donnie smiles, eyes covered by a sheen of liquid. “You scared me. How long did you know it was on?”
He tries to speak. His leg lifts in an awkward position.
Donnie wipes away the gloss and pulls out his tools. “Right. Right. Priorities. I’m sorry, bud. This was my bad. What was I thinking?”
He continues to ask rhetorical questions as he works. Metalhead answers once his voice box functions properly, helping to recode his processor. Once they’re finished with major repairs, he chirps a command and starts walking.
“Metalhead?” He hesitates. Metalhead does not stop. “Where are you…?”
He leaves the lab and goes into the bedroom. He waits in the dark until his creator creeps in, looking around blankly. “What’s in here?”
He points at the bed. His creator sighs. “Metalhead…”
He goes to pull back the covers. He looks at him expectantly.
After a long beat of consideration, Donnie comes over. He lays down reluctantly, eyes already half shut, and says, “I have too much to do.”
Metalhead tucks the blanket over his shoulders.
“I’m going to let them down.”
He pats his shell as he’d seen his brothers do.
“I can’t…” He trails off. Metalhead plants himself by the bed.
He remains there until the evening. Any creature that attempts to cross the threshold is reminded of the extensive weaponry that he bears. After all, Metalhead is made to help and protect.
And sometimes a creator needs protection from himself.
Thinking about Metalhead Rewired. Emotions all over the place. I didn’t know I needed this pain today. Thank you!!! 💜💛
#ImagionationStation’s Ficlets#tmnt 2k12#tmnt 2012#teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt fandom#donnie 2012#tmnt donnie 2012#tmnt 2012 donnie#2012 donnie#2012 donatello#tmnt metalhead#metalhead 2012#2012 metalhead#2012 tmnt#donnie tmnt 2012#tmnt fanfiction#tmnt fic#ask game
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Day 58
Hey remember when randomly a couple days ago in the event I mentioned that one of these days makes me irrationally angry??? Yeah this is the one.
So context for this one is that in the danganronpa section of a server I’m in someone asked a question around the lines of-
“Who is your favorite character for a Mastermind AU?”
Nowadays if you asked me, I’m very fond of the Mastermind AU I drew for Toko and Komaru during Tokomaru Week this year, and it’d probably be my answer nowadays.
However if you asked Jem from several months ago, who was brainrotted to absolute hell over these two to the point that she could barely form an opinion on other characters (don’t worry I fixed that issue in my brain, kinda), you know damn well her instant response was Mikan.
At first it was kind of a non-serious filler answer because I didn’t have anyone else who piqued my interest for that at the time. Arguably at first I wasn’t even interested in Mastermind Mikan initially. And then my brain saw I was apathetic to it and was like “Hold my drink” before it spiraled into an AU, which I of course would then use for Day 58 at the time.
I drew up a character design and some basic details in a total rush, and then drew a really basic but cute enough image of the two alongside various headcanons for this version of the relationship. I actually intended to draw a bonus image of the two on their own just because I felt like I was kinda scamming ya’ll if I didn’t. However I have like, none of the time for that on my hands right now, I’m JUST starting to learn Web Design at the time of writing this. If people like this enough I might try and actually draw some proper art of this AU again though.
As for why this day makes me angry, uhhhh yeah no it’s completely irrational. I have no justification in the slightest I just know that every time i scroll past this one while looking through the folder of Junkan art for the project I just get annoyed.
I’m actually really happy with the Mastermind Mikan design, might be a biiiit overdesigned? But let’s be real if we’ve learned anything over the course of whatever the hell you’d call this project, it’d be that I am nothing if not a woman of pure excess, especially within the small realm of this ship.
Okay so hi this is Jem from like, slightly in the future. And when I say slightly I mean like 20 minutes ahead of the previous paragraph.
So I drew a Monokuma for this AU. Something I didn’t do for my Mastermind Tokomaru AU. I kind of had the idea for a Mikan version of Monokuma in my head for a decent amount of time, partially because I also want to do some art of Mikan and Junko in Shiro/Kurokuma cosplays later (yeah sorry spoilers there is no shiro or kurokuma representation in this project. But worry not, UDG does have representation, muuuuuch later). That made me think about how Shirokuma does kind of have similarities to Mikan (i think, it’s been awhile), which made me realize that monokuma but purple sounded neat. So there’s this now.
I imagine that Junko would still be voicing this version from behind the scenes. Partially because unless it’s literally an Ultimate Voice Actor Mikan AU there’s no way she can do that for a whole killing game. The other reason is I just kind of imagine that Mikan would take a similar role to Tsumugi, being both a member of the killing game and the mastermind, rather than what Junko did where she faked her death and orchestrated from behind the scenes without suspicions. Also yes this would mean that Junko is behind the scenes as normal, just that this time she’s solely focused on managing Monokuma. The Control Room is directly connected to Mikan’s room for easy, non-suspicious access to all the mechanisms. And also so the two of them can cuddle at night, obviously.
Oh yeah with this Monokuma Redesign I would probably also change Mikan’s hair pin to reflect the same color scheme, even if I do like the way it looks with normal Monokuma colors. I would also probably make a “normal” Mikan design for this version. Just tone back certain parts of it to give the illusion that she isn’t the mastermind. Y’know, for the game that will totally exist based off this au, definitely.
Honestly I think rambling about it has made me soften up on this one a bit, for now at least. So for real I might try and draw more of this AU regardless of whether people want it or not. That said y’know, if you DO want more of it feel free to say so cause that will in fact give me some mild motivation lol.
Oh I guess last thing. When I first showed the initial Reference image of this Mikan to friends one of them pointed out that I accidentally made her plan into, what is essentially the American Healthcare System. I swear to god that wasn’t intentional but it did make me laugh.
As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~
#danganronpa#junkan#junko enoshima#mikan tsumiki#enomiki#junko x mikan#junkomikan#enoshima junko#tsumiki mikan#shipping#mastermind au#au#monokuma
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Pick A Card
Your Demons
Pile 1 Spider Nightmare
Song: Venus By Shocking Blue
“ Goddess on the mountain top
Burning like a silver flame
The summit of beauty and love
And Venus was her name
She's got it
Yeah, baby, she's got it
I'm your Venus, I'm your fire
At your desire
Well, I'm your Venus, I'm your fire
At your desire”
This energy is so intense. You’re definitely an intense person. This pile is very personal, I don't expect it to resonate for a lot of people because it’s so particular. I get the energy of someone who talks a lot, who rambles on and on. There’s also this tension… You really love attention. I hate to break it to you but someone has cursed you. I don’t know everything but it’s happened and I have to tell you. That’s why you’re being drawn to this post and to the occult world in general. Deep down inside, you know who it is that’s done it. That bitch! It’s because you have characteristics that they envy and they cannot forgive you for this. It’s so twisted. This may be weird but this pile reminds me of a family member of mine, someone I love dearly and would literally die for. I love this pile. Your life has been hard and it’s not your fault. It always has been since the very start but you never let that stop you cause your loved ones never stopped loving you. You have a strong bond with your loved ones. This is important. Never let them go. This person who has cursed you is unfortunately wedged deep into your family. Maybe they married in, maybe they work for or with your family in some fashion. No matter what, they are lurking.
The image for this pile, the “card” is freaky. It depicts a little girl freaking out as a giant spider with a creepy cat head runs wild. I actually see this spider cat as a protector but the little girl is too young to realize. She is just scared. The cat is guarding her, and who knows… whatever the cat is hissing at could be even scarier than itself!
Cats are independent, intuitive spirits.
So, you who picked this card is the little girl. The cat is your guardian in some form. It comes across strongly. Whether you have one as a pet/familiar/spirit guide, or someone named Cat/Kat/Catherine or someone in mind with other feline attributes
(wear animal prints, have whiskers/facial hair, wear cat eyeliner, have long nails/claws, are feisty 😈 & playful)
Sounds crazy, but cats are! 🐱
In this circumstance with my family member in mind, I’m the cat.
The cat feels creepy sometimes but all you see is cute, so it’s hard to spot them. It’s sad but it’s easier to spot who cursed you rather than who is protecting you. You have just begun to think of life in a spiritual way. You are so excited but this person is ruining it for you, this gives it away. They try to scare you. They live a lie. They aren’t like you and you know it. You do not share the same values. You should get away from them. Cut them off.
This person has become a detriment to you. They are flesh and blood but spiritually they are demonic. I’m sorry but they are. They’re corrupt. They’re into satanic culture and dark society. They want to watch the world burn. They’re made of something you are not. This person just hangs on. They’ve almost been told goodbye many times but it’s never truly manifested. It will but I know it will take a little while but be quicker than you think. I’m thinking around spring you’ll swear you see change even though you feel like you’re imagining it but by the end of summer everything will be taken care of. You’ll see.
Energies:
Cancer ♋️
Hallucinations
Mass Hysteria
Childhood Trauma
Nightmares
Femininity
Girlhood
Goosebumps Books
Love ❤️
Vintage
Tradition
Stereotypes
Comic Books
Action
Art
Curses
Woman
Witch
Beef
Jealousy
Venus
The Past
Scorpio ♏️
Cherished
Spring
Divine Intervention
Pile 2 Swamp Queen
Song: Beautiful By Christina Aguilera
“Don't look at me
Every day is so wonderful
Then suddenly it's hard to breathe
Now and then I get insecure
From all the pain
I'm so ashamed
I am beautiful no matter what they say
Words can't bring me down
I am beautiful in every single way
Yes, words can't bring me down, oh no
So don't you bring me down today”
Okay, you’re your own worst enemy.
This would be my pile 😂
Okay. We get it, you also have a lot to say like Pile 1.
You have a constant internal monologue going on, you’re the star of your own movie. I sense The Star Card for this pile. You are dreamy, spiritual and weird. You’re obviously magical. There’s something strange about you. You are seriously different. You’re not what’s considered normal. You worry so much about whether you come across as normal or not but you don’t have to worry any longer cause I’m going to clarify it for you, you fucking don’t. You are weird. You do not conform to society’s expectations but not because you don’t want to, you just weren’t born to. Most who pick this pile wear makeup, false eyelashes, wigs, dye their hair, have acrylic nails…This is not to hide who you are but actually to accentuate it. You use vibrant colors and exaggerate your natural features so gorgeously! You go! You're not afraid to show your true face though. You’re seriously into skin care/self care/self love and it shows. You glow. Everyone acts weird around you. You’d be surprised why… it’s because you’re beautiful 😍
I do not sense any denial or skepticism from this pile
😆
Everyone already knows …
It’s almost awkward 😐
You do not value appearances whatsoever and this is your true beauty. I sense a lot of empaths in this pile that are just now discovering that they’re empaths maybe even because of this reading!
You’re earthy.
I sense a lot of dark skinned queens here.
You’re a reader. You read books for sure but you read people too. You mind your own business and that’s beautiful too. Maybe you mind your business too much, people want more from you. They want to see you more, talk to you more, hear you laugh more and see you smile… You have many admirers. I mean tons. You had humble beginnings and that’s shaped you into who you are today. You are so mature, too mature. Some want you to relax more and have fun. Some are critical of you and want you to “act your age” they want to dumb you down to their level. They want to party with you, get you drunk and dance 🪩
This is not anything like you.
Ignore these kinds of individuals because they want to change you. This isn’t who you are, if it was then so be it. You’d rather curl up on your couch with a book and a cup of tea 🍵 so do that!
This all sounds so good, then how are you your own problem?
You’re stumped.
You’re stagnant.
A running theme in your life is waiting cause God is teaching you the virtue of patience my friend.
Ground yourself.
Notice everything.
Get comfortable but remember to work hard now so you can relax later.
Stop procrastinating.
Do your best.
You’re idolized behind closed doors. You light up this world.
No one would know an angel like you could have been through hell but that’s the truth. The dark side of this reading is everything you’ve overcome.
The color of this reading is bright green. Slime green like the swamp monster in the image. I see severe chronic incurable illness, sicknesses, nausea, actual vomit. There’s this disgusting and grossed out feeling I get. I get that you feel like a monster maybe cause you don’t “fit in” like I said. You cry about being a misfit.
You put on a happy face. You hate showing people your vulnerabilities but you do so gracefully. You feel nervous a lot, like all the time pretty much. You stay on an even keel of worry. You feel like it’s hard being human, and it is so you try to overcompensate. Just chill out. Your overthinking is a gift and a curse you’ll learn. The present moment is a gift 🎁 so enjoy it.
Energies:
Gemini ♊️
Confidence
Insecurity
Acne
Grease
Iconic
Makeup 💄
The Present
Reality Check
Money 💰
Plastic Surgery
Shots
Needles 💉
Alcohol 🍷
Mirror 🪞
Lips 👄
Mouth
Voice
Throat Chakra
Sexuality
Seduction
Submission
Scorpio ♏️
Scorpion 🦂
Snake 🐍
Mistake
Self Harm
Self Destructive Tendencies
Junkie
Addiction
Flaws
Weakness
Pastel
Accurate
Monster
Shadow Self
Ego
Virgo ♍️
Aquarius ♒️
Pile 3 Wishbone
Song: If I Die Young By The Band Perry
“If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Oh-oh, oh-oh”
I see red.
I sense male/masculine energy.
This pile likes my energy so that’s why you’re here. You like how I talk. We could be friends. Oh.
You’re angry. 😡
You’re into conspiracy theories and the apocalypse. You may be religious. You are dying to state your individuality against the other piles.
You’re vulgar. You swear a lot.
You’re like, “Fuck you, get to my pile!”
You are into horror and gothic things.
I see myself as a teenager so you must be pretty darn damaged.
You speak negatively to yourself. You abuse yourself.
You hate yourself. You feel like no one understands yet the ones who do are as bad as you and can’t help you but at least they make you feel less crazy, right?
This is a rough pile guys.
I’m so sorry for who this is for. It’s definitely for my younger self. I’m having flashbacks. I’m uncomfortable.
I have to be honest, this is the work of the devil.
I bet if you are another pile scrolling down out of curiosity you probably could see it clearly but when you’re knee deep in it, you cannot see it and even act like it’s “cool”
It isn’t.
I don’t even know what to say.
Someday you’ll realize why the devil was after your soul so bad, you’ll realize the richness of who you are and maybe you’ll turn around or maybe you won’t.
I sense deep regret. Someone who’s eating their words and really anxious 😥 You absolutely beat yourself up. You cry a lot.
You're young aren’t you?
Just because I said male/masculine energy doesn’t mean some women cannot be involved… You on your period? I’m teasing but really, are you?
I sense mars energy.
Dark humor, sharp features and tall frames. Warrior souls, brown eyes and hardy laughs. A taste for spicy food, picky when it comes to partners and the moral compass of a saint.
You may be scary on the outside but you're a little ray of sunshine on the inside, aren’t you?
Seriously. You got a good soul.
I sense Leo ♌️ energy.
People want to be like you.
You choose what you say very carefully. You tend to obsess about what you say.
I sense a blocked throat chakra.
You may have nightmares you’re choking, this is a result of it.
Pray on it.
Manifest it.
Open it.
You’re actually really loud.
In energy and volume.
You have massive energy.
You may be big physically, if not then you wear wild outfits that get everyone looking & complimenting.
No matter what you look hot 🥵 and sexy.
You get rid of people in your life if they cross you and now you’ve come to a point where there’s no one left. You’re devastated and lost all hope.
You feel like an alien 👽
This is how the devil wants you to feel
Hang on.
Survive. Then thrive.
God will give you opportunities to move on. I know you’re ashamed of yourself right now so move slow.
Be a sloth 🦥
You feel like a joke.
You also feel numb.
I pray for you, I know you’ll be given a fair chance as I was. You just have to wait.
All of our stories are different yet still similar.
I felt like nothing could get through to me, but that was my story until God moved mountains.
I was in a pathetic place so you should listen to my testimony. I was mad at the world until I realized I’m a part of it, that I matter. I realized not everything is as simple as it seems. We as beings are not as simple as we think we are.
You are not “bad” like you say and think you are. You are the author of your own life. You're the writer but God is the editor. If you wanna be bad then be bad if you want to be good be good but the beautiful thing is that we all have different definitions of good and bad.
So define yourself. Then you’ll be happy.
Your demons are real and the literal devil is after your soul. Don’t panic. 🫨
I sense that it’s just spiritual at this point.
You’re not possessed (yet)
Nothing is attached to you but the devil is attacking your subconscious. Either God is making you walk through hell (and it gets deeper my friend) or you’re trying to swim in the deep end, I trust you know which is which. (I know you do)
So if it is out of your control try to view it as a learning experience no matter how unbearable it may be (I have done this and it sorta helps)
If it’s in your control, be vigilant. Stay aware. Remain observant. Question everything. Ponder existence. You will be rewarded. Expect change and you’ll be good. 👍
Make decisions that make you happy.
Energies:
Aries ♈️
Resistance
Stubborn
Cross
Religion
The Holy Trinity
Blood 🩸
Bones 🦴
Memories
Crying 😭
Weight Loss/Weight Gain
Change
Transformation
Roses 🌹
Encouragement
Hormones
Teenager
Adolescence
Leo ♌️
Lion 🦁
Copy Cats
Regret
Mistake
Redo
Restart
Delete
Space
Advice
Friendship
Guidance
Similarities
Red
Summer
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