Trial & Error
SummaryđŞ: Joel tries to help you get some rest
đ¨: no outbreak!Joel, minor age gap (reader is late 20s, Joel is mid 30s), AU with no Sarah (pls donât hate me đŤŁ) pretty much all fluffđ
A/Nđ¤: this is my submission to @beefrobeefcal âs Married Joel Sat on Me challenge (please check out the other works and/or submit your own if youâd likeâşď¸!), and I hope you guys like what I came up withâ¨
*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest. Although my writings are imagined with a black reader, anyone can read and enjoyđ*
âBaby,â Joel drawls in that deep voice smooth like silk that always makes you melt, âyou should be sleeping.â His lips sweetly press against your forehead after carefully tilting your head back so your doe eyes would be on him.
He wasnât surprised to see your silhouette through the front curtains as his black pickup pulled in the driveway. The living room illuminated with flashes of blue as you watched something he couldnât quite tell - if he had to guess, probably one of baby Morganâs favorite shows you tended to play so she could calm down.
It had been a bit of a habit now with your newfound insomnia. And having to take care of a sick five-month-old while being under the weather yourself didnât help.
âIâm not tired though.â Even upside down, it was obvious to see the exhaustion in those pretty features that had him addicted from the first time he saw you. The darkened puffiness under your eyes. The dull look to your usually bright skin.
âBut you need sleep. The past couple days youâve only been gettin three, maybe four hours.â Although calm, you could feel his concern. Knew he was stressed that his two girls were dealing with things he couldnât seem to help with. Especially not with this new house taking up all his time.
âI donât know what else to do.â You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder as he sits beside you draping his arm around the back of the dark sectional. Any other time, his overall presence along with the warmth emanating from his wood and leather scented skin would have you relaxed enough that you could easily find rest. Now it was just one of a long list of futile attempts.
âWanna try those sleep gummies again?â
âI think my bodyâs used to it since it didnât work that first night.â
His deep hum rumbles under your fingertips on his sternum. âTea?â
You shake your head, âBeing sick made me all teaâd out. Plus I think the chamomileâs gone.â
âCould always try warm milk?,â he suggests with a slight grin. He already knew your answer, but he loved watching your cute, button nose crinkle in disgust.
âIâd rather be knocked over the head,â you answer making your husband deeply chuckle. âLetâs face it, this is just how things are for now. Iâve tried pretty much everything.â
Joel wasnât one to easily accept defeat though thanks to his stubborn nature.
âI uh was talkinâ about it with a buddy on the job. He mentioned something about a..weighted blanket? Said it works for his kid so I tried to find one at the store, but the lady said theyâre all out for now.â
Tilting your head up, a soft smile curls along your lips meeting Joelâs cocoa gaze focused on you. It shouldnât be anything surprising at this point of your relationship, - being together for three years and married for two - but you canât help how your heart flutters at how caring he could be. If a certified cure was revealed today or tomorrow, you know heâd make a way to be the first in line.
Leaning forward, you peck his lips once before moving to his bearded jaw, âThank you for trying.â
His mouth finds yours again easily sliding your hips, with his thick hands, to sit across his lap making you giggle between each nip and press of your lips against his. âIâll stop by tomorrow to check again. Try that other store across town too.â
As if feeling left out from all the love, Morgan first whimpers then cries from her nursery just off from the living room. You mentally groan dreading how long itâll take to get her back to sleep.
âI got her,â Joel states leaving a last kiss on your forehead. âYou try to rest.â
âNo itâs okay, I got her. Plus Iâll have to check her temp-,â
His hands only tighten on your hips preventing you from standing. âBaby I can do it. Relax.â
âWhat if sheâs hungry?â
âI can warm a bottle.â
âI can at least help though,â you pout trying to wiggle free. Instead, youâre manhandled to lie down with your husband sitting on your lower back and butt pressing you into the plush cushions. Turning your upper body as much as you could, your eyebrows slightly furrow in shock and amusement while Joel just crosses his arms as if youâre now permanently part of the furniture. âJ-Joel! Wha-?â
âYa left me no choice. It was the only way I could get you to stay.â
âBy crushing me with your big ass?!â
You could be so dramatic. âHey, this big ass is your fault,â he laughs. âFillinâ me up with all that food and pastries.â
Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. His once toned abdomen now a pleasant pouch and thighs a bit thicker causing him to go up a size in his jeans - and even then they still hugged tight.
Not that you minded. You loved Joelâs new âdad bodâ just as much as his more slender form. Sometimes even more as you watched him get ready for work or walk around in his sweatpants as he carried and played with Morgan. If it wasnât for your current situation, you might even be pregnant with baby number two you were so attracted to him.
âSure, itâs my fault and not that burger and fries you get every day for lunch,â you playfully huff trying to shimmy your way from his hold.
He slightly tilts his head from left to right knowing you had a point, âAlright fair.â Eventually, you finally submit to the fact you werenât leaving letting your arms extend in front of you. And dare you say, it even began to feel comfortable. âNow, if I get up I trust youâre gonna stay here?â
âYes seeing that my back is broken,â you reply rolling your eyes. That earns you a warning - yet always playful - smack to the back of your thigh as he stands now leaving you to the cold, open air. âGood girl. Iâll be right back.â
The softest of smiles forms of your lips rolling onto your back to watch him happily stride to tend to his baby girl. âHey love bug! How ya feelin huh?â Her cries instantly silence into hiccups as soon as sheâs lifted to lie on his chest. She even babbles as if having a full conversation while he presses the back of his hand to her forehead. âNo fever thatâs good.â
A certain, familiar smell clues Joel to what the issue is though. âWe gotta get this diaper off you babygirl,â he states moving to lie her on the changing table. âThatâll make you feel better right?â Itâs like she understands every word reaching her chubby arms up with a short giggle. They grow into excited squeals as Joel takes turns blowing raspberries onto her bare stomach and tickling that spot under her chin between cleaning her up with baby wipes.
Such a daddyâs girl through and through.
It takes maybe ten minutes more of coos mixed with rocking and bouncing before Joel has her asleep again; carefully lowering her into her crib for the night. âTwinkle Twinkle Little Starâ playing on a low, constant loop from her star projector to make sure she stays that way as he eases out her room and shuts the door behind him.
His ebony eyes are trained on you now padding the short distance to the couch and leaning over your body. That one curl at the top of his head tipping forward. âAlright, your turn princess.â
You only lift your arms with a smile letting him lift you over his broad shoulder to carry you down the hall to your shared bedroom. Luckily youâre already in your pajamas when you gently flop against the brown comforter. He leaves you to get comfortable - shifting under the covers and wiggling to find that sweet spot - while he discards his clothes in the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth.
In a few minutes, heâs appearing through the misty doorway with wet almond strands still trying to dry and a pair of black boxer briefs over his hips. The little âoohâ that slips from your lips as he slides into bed makes him furrow his brows in confusion while you twist to lie on your stomach reaching back to pat your bottom. âI got an idea.â
âYeah?,â he smirks wetting his bottom lip. âWe definitely havenât tried that before.â
âJesus, get your mind out the gutter. I mean crush me again,â you laugh.
Although he scoffs in faux offense, he still does as you say positioning himself so half his body covers yours and long leg nearly straddles your back. His nose mere centimeters from yours blowing steady streams of air as you practically share your pillow. âWhatâs your plan here?â
âWell, until we find one, I was thinking..maybe you could be my weighted blanket,â you shyly explain. âI know itâs probably dumb, but earlier-,â
âWorth a try,â Joel winks closing the small gap to peck your nose then lips. His fingertips tracing soothing lines back and forth along your neck.
For a while, you both just lied there talking about your respective days or whatever came to mind. Around one in the morning, Joel could see your blinks become slower and slower until it was an apparent struggle to keep your eyes open. Your words even beginning to slur and answers sound like adorable nonsense.
You hadnât even realized you eventually drifted off until the next morning when you were woken up by Morganâs cries through the monitor. The sun shining a bright golden hue through the crack in the curtains.
A note on the nightstand is the first to catch your attention - clearly written by your husband from the tilted and slightly mushed together handwriting - making you tiredly smile.
âGlad to see you got some rest xxâ
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So Long, Too Soon
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Itâs been so long since you and Joel have had sex. When you finally find the time to reconnect, things happen a little too soon.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI. No outbreak AU. established relationship (married), use of pet names (darlinâ, baby, big guy), allusion to m!masturbation, Joel in grey sweatpants and a plain white T đŤ , f!oral, fingering, use of vibrator, unprotected PiV, creampie, no use of Y/N
a/n: This was written for @justagalwhowrites Joel Miller Birthday Celebration. I picked a combo of dad!Joel and a lil bit feral!Joel (heâs horny, yâall) with the theme of premature ejaculation. I had been noodling on the idea of a âdry spellâ within an established relationship for a bit and thought it would work with this challenge. Thank you to @80ssong for the beta and constant encouragement! đ
word count: 3,608
ao3 | ml
âSARAH! Hurry up, your dad is waiting in his truck!âÂ
âIâm coming!â you hear her call from her bedroom. âI had to get my math homework,â she huffs as she bounds down the stairs and into the kitchen.Â
She gallops toward you and wraps you in a bear hug. Instinctively, your hands wrap around her and kiss the crown of her head. âLove you,â she says as she hurries to meet her dad; having been with him for the last fifteen years, you know his patience is hanging on by a thread. He has a short window to drop Sarah off at school to beat the worst of Austinâs morning rush hour and make it to the job site on time.Â
âLove you too!â you shout back. You wince as the front door slams behind her. Youâve lost count of how often youâve asked her not to do that. Â
With your first coffee down, you drag yourself to the life-giving machine to pour another cup into your favorite mug. It was a Mother's Day gift from Sarah when she was six. Joel took her to a paint-your-own pottery studio during one of their âdaddy-daughterâ days. When they came home, Sarah barreled through the door with a mischievous glint in her eyes and a massive smile. You watched, amused, as your daughter bounced around, unable to contain her excitement. Animatedly, she tells you about her day with Joel, which started with a large stack of pancakes for breakfast and a movie. She recounted the day so quickly that Joel was worried that if she kept going, sheâd accidentally spoil the surprise. He rested his hands on her shoulders with a low shush. His calm demeanor and soothing touch instantly relaxed her. He reminded Sarah that she had to be patient and, for the time being, had to keep a secret. You looked at him questioningly, and he shrugged. He smirked as he moved his index finger and thumb across his lips, motioning that they were sealed. A few weeks later, you would finally unwrap your surprise. Since then, it has been like no other mug ever existed. It delights you every morning, admiring the colorful hand-painted flowers and âWorldâs Best Momâ scrawled across the mugâs surface.Â
For six months or so, you and Joel have been like ships that pass in the night. Joelâs contracting business continues to grow and has him running around all over Austin. Some weeks, heâs put in seventy hours and has just enough energy to shower before he climbs into bed where youâre sat upright with your laptop, working tirelessly on your latest project with a looming deadline. He graces you with a peck on the cheek before he rolls on his side, and within minutes, you hear the low drone of his snores. In the mornings, you exchange kisses and âI love yousâ when he comes downstairs to grab his coffee before heâs out the door with Sarah, and you relocate to your home office for the day.Â
You hope there is a light at the end of the tunnel soon. Even if you have to dig the tunnel yourself to find it, itâs been too long since you and Joel have had sex, and youâre not sure how much more you can take. You crave the intimacy of being close to your husband, skin-to-skin. It invigorates you, seals your love, and makes you feel more connected. You worry he could be losing his attraction to you. Youâve been together for over a decade, which is a long time for your bodies to change. He seems to have only gotten more annoyingly handsome while your body has grown and pushed out a healthy, brilliant, funny girl, and things arenât as tight as they once were. Parts of your body are softer and have a tendency to spread a little more when you sit down.Â
You and Joel have always had a fulfilling sex life. When you first got together, there was hardly a day where you didnât fuck. Even after you got married, and all your friends had warned you your sex life would change and frequency would lessen, you and Joel still managed to keep a healthy schedule in the bedroom. Things did slow down a bit when Sarah was born. Caring for a newborn is exhausting, and you and Joel could barely keep your eyes open. As Sarah got older, things in the bedroom began to pick up again. Tommy would come over and watch Sarah so you and Joel could have regular date nights to keep the romance alive. At the end of the night, youâd go home and fuck like you used to. It helped keep the passion alive amid the stress of your jobs, maintaining the household, and getting Sarah to and from school, soccer practices, and playdates. This has been the longest dry spell youâve experienced in your relationship with Joel, hopeful it is temporary.Â
After your work project finally wraps up and Joelâs current job has slowed while he waits for permits, you arrange a sleepover for Sarah at her friendâs house tonight. Sheâs finally at the age where she feels comfortable with overnights where you and Joel arenât just down the hall. You log off work early, having already put in close to sixty hours for the week, and head to the mall. You want to find something to knock Joelâs socks off and re-energize you both. After an hour of perusing your favorite lingerie store racks, you find a few sets to try on. You fumble around in the fitting room, trying on your selections until you find a winner. Joel wonât know what hit himâan emerald green negligee with lace cups and trim, fly-away opening, and matching thong panties. You feel a tingle of excitement imagining his reaction.Â
Youâve already dropped Sarah off at her friendâs house, and the dinner table is set by the time Joel gets home. Joel walks into the smell of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Itâs one of his favorite meals that you make. He finds you standing over the stove, putting the finishing touches on dinner. He comes over to greet you, wraps his arms around you from behind, and leaves a kiss on the sensitive area where your shoulder and neck meet. You sway in his arms, relishing in his embrace, inhaling his scent of sweat and sawdustâthe smell of a man who works hard to provide for his family.Â
âIâve missed you, darlinâ. How was your day?â
âPretty good. Iâm glad youâre home.â
âMe too. Do I have time for a quick shower before dinner?âÂ
âYup, the chicken still has to sit before I cut into it.â He pulls away from you and places a playful swat on your ass before he heads upstairs.Â
Joel hops in the shower, looking forward to a quiet, relaxed evening with you. Itâs been so long since youâve had an opportunity to be alone together. He hopes tonight heâll be able to rekindle the passion you both have craved from each other these past months; heâs missed being intimate with you. Itâs just been hard to find time to connect with how busy youâve both been lately. Heâs thankful thereâs a lull at his current job site, which has relieved some of his stress. While heâs in the shower, he debates whether he should fuck his fist so he can last longer with you. Eventually, he decides against it because thereâs not enough time, and he wants to ensure he has enough stamina for you. When he steps out of the shower, he changes into a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt and heads downstairs for dinner.
You head upstairs while Joel finishes cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. When you hear the kitchen faucet shut off, you scramble to finish getting dressed for Joel. A few minutes later, he appears in the doorway of your shared bedroom, mouth agape. Heâs at a loss for words; you are a vision. His eyes travel your body to find you wearing his favorite green plaid flannel, with your legs bare. It also happens to be your favorite green plaid flannel. He always looks incredibly handsome in it. The shirt hugs him in all the right places, stretching across his broad shoulders and tapering at his slim waist. Any time he wears it, all you want to do is take it off. Joel imagines he probably looks like The Mask when he sees Tina for the first timeâeyes bulging out, jaw dropped, and tongue rolled out in front of him. He lifts his jaw off the floor and finally remembers how to speak; he exhales, âI think that looks better on you than it does me.â
âHmmm. Itâs possible.â You slowly unbutton the shirt as you saunter towards Joel. âBut, I think it may look better off of me.â You let the flannel fall to the floor.
Joel is going to lose his mind. Heâs the luckiest guy in the world. He has an incredible lifeâan intelligent, generous, and beautiful wife who gave him a caring, witty, and beautiful daughter. His time with you has been the best years of his life. The wisest decision he made was asking you to be his wife. And now, youâre standing in front of him in this green silk number that has caused all the blood to rush to his cock. His cock, which is now stretching the fabric of his sweatpants with a pronounced bulge. You take notice and grin, pleased at his reaction. âSo, I guess this was a good pick?âÂ
He steps closer, now within arms reach. Trailing his fingers down the smooth fabric, he responds, âBaby, itâs perfect. Youâre perfect.â He pulls you in for a searing kiss. âIâve missed you so much. Iâve missed us.â
You melt into his arms and feel his cock press against you, and arousal pools in your silk panties. Joelâs hands trail down the back of your body slowly. He teases at the lace trim before sliding his hands under your negligee to rest on the soft, round globes of your ass. His calloused hands explore your supple skin, and he lets out a grunt as he grabs hold and thrusts his stiff cock into your center. The contact causes him to suck air in between his teeth with a hiss. Itâs been too long since he's had you this way, and heâs not sure how long heâll last. Your kissing becomes a mix of frantic tongues and wet lips devouring each other. The intensity at which he takes over is overwhelming. You love it when he gets this way like he could eat you alive; he wants you so badly.Â
âYou feel so soft, baby.â He pants between kisses. âMmmm, I need you.â
âI know, Joel. I need you tooâŚso bad.âÂ
Itâs a frenzy of hands groping at each other. Neither of you can hold back. He begins to drag the hem of your negligee up and prompts you to lift your arms as he pulls it over your breasts, which tumble out of the fabric. He watches them bounce with rapt attention, practically drooling. They arenât as perky as when you and Joel first met, but heâs always been obsessed with them. With you standing in front of him, bare except your thong, he takes one of your breasts in his mouth, the other held in a firm grip as he massages and lathes at them. You moan in pleasure as he takes his time covering every inch, leaving a trail of licks and soft bites across your chest.
Joel moves up your sternum, trailing over your collarbone and neck, nipping at your jaw, locking your lips with his once he reaches his destination. The noises emitting from Joelâs are animalistic. He needs to consume you in every way possible. He begins to grind into you, pressing his cock into you. You let out a needy moan as his hips propel forward into your soaked panties. Joelâs eyes widen at the last press of his hips into you, and he realizes heâs about to come. Oh fuck. No, no, nononono. This canât be happening. Not tonight. He was so in the moment that he couldnât catch the signs. Maybe he shouldâve jerked off in the shower. Shit. Joelâs mind begins to run through his playbook of thoughts he uses when he wants to stave off an impending orgasm. The latest delivery of lumber, the Longhornsâ upcoming season, and the leaking faucet in the half bath that he wants to fix this weekend. But itâs too late. He grunts and moans, his thick fingers gripping your hip for balance as he explodes into his pants and lets out an exasperated sigh. It takes you a moment to realize what happened as you watch a wet spot bloom on the front of his pants. He hasnât cum in his pants since he was a teenager.Â
âThat hasnât happened to me since high school,â he admits, embarrassed.Â
You lift Joelâs head, your hands tenderly holding the sides of his face, and look into his eyes. âBaby, this is probably the best compliment ever! I may have trouble getting through the doorway with how big my head is right now.â you chuckle.Â
He lets out a short laugh, and a small smile forms across his handsome face. Gripping your upper arm, he leads you to walk backward until your legs hit the bed. âWell, my recovery time isnât what it used to be.â He pushes you gently until you collapse onto the bed, ogling your breasts as they bounce in response. âI hope youâre ready to come for me a few times before heâs ready to go again.âÂ
âI think I can manage that.â You giggle as his broad body hovers over you, and he leaves a path of wet kisses down the plane of your chest, in between your breasts, and over the soft rolls of your stomach. As he approaches your center, he shimmies your panties over your hips and down your legs, exposing your wet cunt to the cool air of the bedroom. Joel moans, âThere she is. God, Iâve missed her.â
He dropped to his knees in front of the bed, his broad shoulders spread your legs apart, giving him a perfect view of the arousal coating your folds. His fingers travel up your thick thighs, inching closer to your core. Youâre writhing in anticipation of his touch where you need him most. He takes his time, teasing you until you almost break. Sensing your need, he gives in and runs his finger over your clit and down your seam. He looks up at you with a devilish grin before he dives in. His tongue glides through your folds, lapping up your arousal. Your back arches, shoving your pussy in his face when he reaches your clit. He circles his tongue over the hardened nub, wraps his lips around it, and begins to suck and flick his tongue, sending shockwaves up your body, causing a moan to tumble from your mouth. He smirks without letting his lips leave you, pleased with your response.
Youâve been together long enough that Joel knows precisely what you need and where you need it to make you see stars. His forearms grip around your thighs to hold you in place, not letting you pull away from his tongue ravishing your clit. Heâs devouring you like a man starved. Because itâs true, he has been starved. The last six months have been brutal, not being able to taste your sweet tang. He lets out a feral groan as he continues to eat at you. He knows youâre close and groans into your pussy. The vibration reverberating through your body is enough to send you over the edge. Your thighs shake, a harmony of moans and curse words barreling from your lips while you cum all over his patchy beard. He laps up your slick while he gazes at your blissed-out face. Joel ascends the bed and leans in to kiss you, and with a devilish grin, he teases, âThatâs one!âÂ
You laugh, a broad smile across your face as Joel admires you, so much love and lust in his eyes. âSo, big guy, whatâs in store for number two?â
With a mischievous look, his eyes never leave yours as his hand travels down your body. His fingers dance over your soft stomach until they reach your entrance. He breaches your wet folds with two fingers, knowing youâre more than ready to receive them after you just came on his tongue. They slide in easily as his thumb meets your clit. Heâs slow with his teasing because youâre still a little sensitive. He thrusts in and out, bumping into that spongy spot that sends electric volts through your body. It doesnât take him long to build you back up to another orgasm. He feels you clench around his fingers and continues his pace until you erupt with a cry, your orgasm gushing out of you, soaking his fingers. Joel pulls his fingers up to his mouth to clean up your juices and then leans forward with a peck on your nose, âThatâs two!â
He feels his cock begin to stiffen. Heâll be ready to go soon; he just needs you to come again for him. He pulls out a vibrator from the nightstand. You look at him incredulously, unsure if you have another one in you, feeling so overstimulated already. Joel flicks the purple toy on and smiles as it hums. He begins on the lowest speed, dragging the tip up and down your pussy lips. You feel yourself getting wet again with his teasing. He increases the speed and watches as you thrust your hips up, your bodyâs natural response to the change. Itâs almost too much, but you feel your orgasm drawing closer and grip his forearm as he drags the tip of the vibrator through your folds until pressing it up against your clit, moving to the highest speed. Your eyes roll back as your body flails with your release. Joel watches as you come down from your high. He shifts his eyes to his pants and returns to yours with a smile. His cock is rock hard now. âI guess the third timeâs the charm!â
You lift from the bed and eagerly grab at the waistband to pull them down over his hips. His dick springs out, and you lick your lips. He would love nothing more than to watch his cock slide through your luscious lips, but heâs not risking it. He knows he wonât last long in your wet mouth, and he wants to come inside you. Joel lifts your chin, and you look at him with doe eyes, âHe needs to get inside your pussy, baby.â
With unbridled enthusiasm, you lay back on the bed as Joel pulls off his pants completely, and he crawls up your body. Holding your gaze, he lines up and begins to feed his cock into you. You are pressed so close together, and with him now inside you, it's as if you two have become one person. He thrusts into you, slowly at first, and gradually increases his speed. He doesnât feel deep enough and has to give you all of him, so he lifts and moves your legs to rest your calves on his left shoulder, his cock never leaving the clutch of your pussy. With your thighs now pressed together to make your pussy feel even tighter, he grabs onto your hips, thrusting in earnest. His pelvis slapping into your ass with each drive of his cock inside you. Feeling his orgasm build, he pushes his body forward, folding you over and driving even deeper. When he hits the spot, it sends you into a frenzy, and you cum, wailing his name. Joelâs jaw tenses as he grunts and follows after you, flooding your walls with his seed. Â
As you both catch your breath, trying to recover from the immense euphoria, Joel looks down at you and sees tears fall from your eyes. He kisses them away as they slide down your temple. When he leans back, he thumbs at a new tear thatâs formed and wipes it away before it has a chance to fall. âYou ok, hon?â he asks, concerned.
âOh, yes, Joel. Iâm fantastic. Iâm just so fucking happy.â
Your favorite Joel smile appearsâthe one that is so full and wide it makes his eyes disappear and wrinkle at the corners. It feels like your heart will burst from your chest. He slams into you with another toe-curling kiss. When he finally pulls away from your lips, he looks into your eyes, âI love you so fucking much.âÂ
âI love you, too, Joel.âÂ
He pulls his softening cock out of you with a hiss, and you whimper at the loss of him. He keeps your legs up so he can watch as his cum drips out of your swollen lips. Satisfied with his work, he shifts your body to the side and sidles up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. He hums while he peppers soft kisses over your shoulder, and you let out a sated sigh. Youâll worry about cleaning up later. You donât imagine youâll have difficulty convincing him to hop in the shower with you. But for now, you want to stay in the embrace of your strong, handsome, and loving husband for as long as possible.
Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. đŤśđť
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Softer
Pairing: Joel x F!Reader
Summary: Joelâs feeling a tad self-conscious
Warnings/Tags: Humor, No outbreak AU, Tommy being an asshole in a brotherly way, fluff, pregnancy, sympathetic pregnancy, blended families, strip tease, nothing bad happens to Sarah ever and Ellie's your kid, and I think thatâs it?
A/N: Thank you much @strang3lov3, @whocaresstillthelouvre, @jay-zzle for your eyes and Jai also for the moodboard!!! đđĽ°đ
This is for @beefrobeefcalâs Joel Sat on Me challenge! I hope you laugh at this as much as I did writing it đ
Masterlist||AO3
Divider by @saradika-graphics
The gender reveal/baby shower was going off without a hitch. Maria was making sure people knew where to put gifts, Tommy was helping Joel at the grill, while your mom was helping you put the Boy or Girl banner around you. You hate this kind of attention but Maria and your parents both wanted to make a show of it. Despite your arguments on tradition being only for the first baby.
âWell, itâs you and Joelâs first baby together,â Maria deadpanned, all while your mom nodded along.
âCanât beat that logic!â Your dad grinned.
âFine,â you relented, rolling your eyes, âGood thing itâs the last one too.âÂ
Joel smirked, his palm caressing your thigh, âItâll be fine,â he whispered in your ear, âLeast there will be cake,â he added with a shrug. You couldnât help but laugh.
âCanât beat that logic!â You reply mockingly, sticking your tongue out.
â
âMom!â Ellie shouts, âSarahâs trying to sneak into the cake!â
âQuit being such a narc!â Sarah laughs, playfully smacking Ellieâs arm, âYou want to know just as much as I do!â
âGirls!â Joel hollers. âCome help your uncle Tommy set up!â
Both girls walk to the grill, helping Tommy carry hamburgers and hotdogs to the table.
âAlright everyone!â Maria announces, raising her voice to get everyoneâs attention. âLetâs eat! Parents-to-be first!â
âHey momma,â Joel grins, meeting you at the food table and placing a soft kiss on your temple, âWhat ya in the mood for?â
âMore like what is the baby in the mood for?â you grumble, trying to adjust the sash around your body. âI hate this fucking thing,â you hiss.
âJust gotta eat, cut the cake and get through presents then Iâll kick everyone out,â Joel reassures.
âYeah, yeah, yeah,â you mumble, grabbing a plate and staring at the food. The baby decided it wanted corn on the cob, a burger with all the extras, potato salad, and a small salad with more ranch on it than lettuce.
âJesus Joel,â Tommy laughed when you both got to one of the tables. âYour womanâs the one eatinâ for two not you!â
Everyone looked at Joel with his plate piled high with two burgers, two hotdogs, and plenty of sides to feed a small army. You saw the flush creeping up his neck as he sat next to you. Joel opened his mouth to say something but Maria interrupted.
âOh hush,â Maria said, smacking Tommy softly on the shoulder.
âProbably going through that sympathetic pregnancy thing,â a guest piped in. âMy husband did that too!â
âSympathetic pregnancy?â Ellie asked with her mouth full of potato salad. Your mom begins to laugh, shaking her head at Ellie.
âEllie, gross,â you hiss. âFinish eating before you speak.â
Ellie makes a show of swallowing her food before speaking again. âWhat the hell is sympathetic pregnancy?â
âEllie,â you groan. âLanguage! I havenât spent the past 13 years raising a hellion!â
âAnd just think, youâre starting over!â your dad laughs.
Joel, meanwhile, keeps pushing the food around on his plate, taking smaller bites of the sides.
âOkay, googled it!â Sarah announces to the table, wagging her phone and clearing her throat. âGoogle says, c- cou- nevermind, Iâm not even gonna try. Sympathetic pregnancy is a proposed condition in which an expectant father experiences some of the same symptoms and behavior as his pregnant partner. These most often include major weight gain, altered hormone levels, morning nausea, and disturbed sleep patterns.â
âThat why you were asking for Pepto the other day at the site?â Tommy asks, nudging Joelâs shoulder before sitting down. âDealing with some morning sickness as well?â
âDamn it Tommy,â Joel growls, balling up his fist. âIf you donât cut it out-â
âAlright, alright,â Maria hisses. âEnough.â She adds pointing at Tommy.
â
Joel stood in front of the mirror, looking at himself. Marriage had been good to him. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline the moment he got you pregnant. He hadnât thought about it before but Tommy got in his head. Especially when he announced to everyone at the party it made sense now why Joel had to move his tool belt to the next hole for it to fit.
âWhatcha lookinâ at hot stuff?â You smirk, standing in the doorway of the adjoining bathroom with your toothbrush in hand.
âThinkinâ I need to go on a diet,â Joel huffs out, turning towards you with his hands on his hips.
âThe fuck would you do that for?!â
âTommyâs riââ
âI swear if the next words out of your mouth are Tommyâs right.â You pout, trying your best to not let the toothpaste escape your mouth as you move back into the bathroom, spitting into the sink, âIâm gonna kill âem.â
Going back to the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed, watching Joel find his pajamas for the night. Sure, heâs gotten thicker in the middle since you got pregnant. His pants fit a bit tighter around his thighs. His chest, oh god his chest, the way your hands grip onto the meaty pecs he has now. You make a small noise at the memory of this morning before the girls woke up, and how you rode him as best you could with your swollen belly in the way, slick pooling in your underwear.
âWhat?â Joel asks, turning to look at you, noticing that feral glint in your eyes. Heâs seen it more and more as the months have gone by. Sarahâs mom was nothing compared to you at this stage in pregnancy. Revved up and ready to go 24/7 these days.
âTommyâs got it totally wrong,â you grin, âI love the way you look these days Joel.â
âYeah?â Joel smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck, turning to face you, âwhat.. uh.. what about it?â
âDad bod through and through,â you hum, adjusting on the bed to sit a little further back. âWas thinking about this morning, how I can hold onto your chest a little better with your pecs being a little softer.â
âYeah?â Joel grins, watching your eyes track his fingers as they open the first couple buttons of his flannel, his chest barely peeking out through the fabric, âShould I put on a show?â
âI wanna see my man!â you let out a breath nodding your head eagerly.
âFeel like we need some music or something,â Joel says, letting out a shy laugh, trailing his palms down the front of his shirt, popping open more of the buttons. You begin humming 70âs porno music, âNo thank you, thatâs enough.â
You shrug letting out a giggle as he continues unbuttoning his shirt, his strong chest and thick belly being revealed as he rips the flannel shirt back in a dramatic fashion, spreading his legs wide and tilting his head to sway his curls behind him.
âJesus Christ, Napoleon Dynamite. Ya gonna take it off or what?â
ââScuse me?â Joel asks, straightening up, pinning you with a look, pulling his flannel back over his shoulders, âListen, Iâve never done this for anybody. Iâd âpreciate if ya didnât make rude comments.â
You clear your throat and lean your arms back against the bedding to prop yourself up, âSorry, horny goblins took over, proceed.â
With his flannel shirt open, he starts flipping his belt open, stalking towards you, nodding your head at this new development, sliding his belt out quickly from his belt loops causing a gasp to escape your lips.
âMmmm,â you moan softly, thighs squeezing together, and squirming on the bed âJoel. You look so fucking good like this.â
Joel spins around to show you his backside before slipping one shoulder of the flannel off, turning his head to the side with a smirk as he slowly slides it off his arm, followed by the other. You hear the button and zipper of his jeans sliding down. He begins teasing you with his jeans, dropping them some before pulling them back up and swiveling his hips, he puts one foot on the opposite leg to try and help pull the leg out.
âFuck!â He yelps, as he falls back sitting on you, âShit that wasnât supposed to happen!â
âOw!â You groan, smacking his ass to get him to move. He rolls off you to lay beside you on the bed.
âYou good?â Joel asks, laying on his side next to you, placing his palm on your belly.
âYeah, Iâm good,â you grin, placing your hand on top of his with a sigh. âNo Magic Mike in here, but for your first attempt that was good Miller,â you add with a smirk.
âFuck you,â Joel grins, leaning up to kiss you.
âFuck. Please!â You groan, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him in for a deeper kiss.
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Hair Care
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Request: Bestie I'll always come with requests :D how about in the early TLH days with Nat asking r to teach her how to do R's hair after maybe R stayed with her at the compound for the first time? Very soft and gentle Nat đ
The Loud House Universe
It was quiet at the compound, the kind of stillness that only came late at night when everyone had retreated to their rooms and the hum of the facility faded into the background. You sat cross-legged on Natashaâs bed, your fingers working through your hair in steady, practiced motions. You had come to stay with Natasha for the first time, and though the unfamiliarity of the compound felt overwhelming at times, moments like this â peaceful and soft â made it feel like home.
It's a ritual you've known all your life - the detangling, the sectioning, the careful twisting. Something was grounding about it that reminded you of home and your mother spending her weeknights doing this very process. You didn't plan on needing to do your hair at Natasha's place. You also didn't plan on the hours of lovemaking that would inevitably cause this very process right here.
A smile graced your face as you remembered the feel of her lips pressed against your own.
Natasha leaned against the doorway, her eyes never leaving yours. She had always admired how you carried yourself â the quiet confidence, the grace that came so naturally. But there was something about watching you care for your hair that felt⌠sacred. Each curl you tenderly worked through, each product you applied with intention, it all felt like a ritual, a language she didnât yet understand but wanted to learn. She stood there, captivated, unsure of how to ask the questions forming in her mind.
This was Natashaâs first time with someone so different from herself, and it made her feel uncharacteristically unsure. It wasnât just your hair â though that alone fascinated her â it was everything about you. The way you navigated the world with a different kind of strength, a resilience born from experiences sheâd never had to face. There was an authenticity about you that felt grounding, in contrast to the many layers of disguise and deception sheâd worn her entire life.
When Natasha allowed herself to date in the past, it was always fleeting. Simple flings, a few weeks here, a few months there. Nothing lasting, nothing too personal. Her life as a spy required distance, a self-imposed detachment. Getting close to someone had always felt like a risk she couldnât afford. But this was different.
With you, it wasnât about quick connections or keeping things easy. It was about learning, about appreciating the parts of you that felt foreign to her but so integral to who you were. The way you cared for your hair, and your skin, the love you put into the routines that kept you grounded â it was all new to her. Natashaâs curiosity was piqued, not just out of habit or professional interest, but because she genuinely wanted to understand. She wanted to know every part of you, even the parts that had nothing to do with her.
Her fingers twitched at her sides as she wondered how to ask. It wasnât a simple question of wanting to learn how to braid or twist; it was about wanting to be closer, to understand this beautiful part of your life she hadnât experienced before.
You looked up, meeting her eyes and smiling softly. She was always beautiful, but there was something about the way her green eyes looked in this moment, a tenderness to her gaze you hadn't seen before. It took your breath away.
You could feel her restlessness from the few feet away and you let out a small laugh. "You can help, you know." You reached out to her, and grabbed the comb from the bed to pass to her.
"I don't want to mess it up," Natasha said unsurely.
"Well, you didn't think about that when you were knocking my head against the headboard," You pointed out.
Natasha rolled her eyes, but a grin tugged at her lips. She stepped forward, taking the comb. "You can guide me," she suggested, settling behind you. She rested her hands on your shoulders, giving a light squeeze before trailing them down the length of your arms.
"What should I do?" she asked.
"Just keep going. Section out a little bit more and pull back," you instructed, pointing to the area where she should begin.
"Like this?" she asked, pulling gently on a section of hair.
"Yeah, and then take the comb, and run it through like this," you guided her hand with yours, showing her the motion.
Natasha smiled as she watched her hands work, focused intently on her task. This felt different than what she had done with others. In the past, her sexual exploits were mostly based in a shared understanding â a desire to fuck and not much else. But this was different. With you, everything felt heightened, each touch and look more significant than it ever had before. Natasha didn't want to hurt you, or disappoint you. She wanted to learn, to experience this with you in the same way you'd experienced everything with her.
"A braid would be nice," You offered.
"Okay," Natasha replied, following your instructions carefully.
You hummed, and closed your eyes as she worked, relishing the feel of her nimble fingers twisting through your hair.
Natasha finished, wrapping an elastic around the end of your braid.
"I know you have questions," You spoke aloud.
"How do you know?"
"It's written all over your face."
Natasha leaned forward, her chest brushing against your shoulders. She wrapped her arms around your midsection, kissing the exposed skin of your neck.
"Is this what you did when you were younger?"
You nodded.
"You're beautiful," she breathed against your neck. "All of you."
"Thank you," You murmured. "Of course back then my mom took care of it." You informed her. "She did my hair, and we watched movies."
"Tell me about them," Natasha encouraged, settling back down and wrapping her arms around your waist again.
"They were funny," You said. "Mostly things she wouldn't allow me to watch on my own. That way we could have open discussions about certain things. My favorite was Waiting to Exhale. I was attracted to Angela Bassett."
"Hmm, she's a beautiful woman," Natasha mused.
"Yeah," You said. "Haircare days weren't always my favorite but with three siblings it was always a way for me to spend time with her."
Natasha gave a gentle squeeze to your hips, encouraging you to continue.
"She was never afraid to allow me to try different hair colors, or cuts, or styles," You explained. "I went through a straightening phase in early high school. She quickly put a stop to that."
Natasha smiled. "Sounds like you two had a lot of fun together."
"We did."
Natasha kissed the back of your neck, holding her lips against your skin for a moment before pulling away.
"I want my daughters to feel the same pride in their hair and their skin," You said softly. Your relationship is still too new to talk about long-term plans together but, you'd like to think that she would be there too. "If that ever comes about."
Natasha hummed. "You're going to be a great mother."
You smiled. "I hope so," You shrug. "What's your favorite hairstyle of mine?"
"Hmm," Natasha thought for a second."I like the braids you get. The single ones in your hair what did you call them?"
"Box braids," You laughed.
"Yes! They suit you." She nodded. "I like you natural too."
"I'll have to let my hair breathe for a little," You said. "Though it's a protective style getting braids back to back can be tension-heavy."
"Protective style?"
"Yeah," You said. "You know... a hairstyle that doesn't require a lot of maintenance, or that protects the hair."
"Gotcha," Natasha nodded.
"So," You leaned back into her. "Do you want me to teach you how to care for it?"
"I would love that," She grinned.
"Okay," You nodded and then looked down at your braid.
"I love it when you share things about yourself," She said. "Especially things that mean so much to you. And, I liked this, even though I didn't know what I was doing."
You turned and looked back at her, kissing her cheek. "I love you, Nat."
Natasha smiled, a flush creeping up her cheeks. "I love you, too."
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Thank you for the Husband Javi series. This family is absolutely incredible. Would you ever write about their miscarriage in between Lucas and Ines? It would definitely add to and shows strength of the bond between wife and Javi.
Loss
Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Â This was done with utmost respect and care. If anything in this piece is unrealistic and tasteless, I take full responsibility.
Please read the tags.
Summary: You wake up to a nightmare.
Pairing: Javier PeĂąa x f!reader (no y/n)
Tags: Miscarriage, loss of a child, heavy angst, grief, child in distress, description of vomit, description of blood, brief mention of loss of a parent, hospitals, the inherent suffering and guilt of being a mother, hurt/comfort, somewhat happy ending
Word count: 5.4k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58943479
Loss
It is a known fact that you easily stir from your sleep when Javier is out of your reach, always needing to feel his skin on your own in some way even if it is just your fingertips touching him. It is why you are confused about being woken up by your body in the early morning hours when Javierâs hand rests so gently on your shoulder as he snores beside you. On top of it, having a toddler in the room next door makes you sleep through the night whenever you can.Â
Lucas doesnât need you right now. Javier is right there. Thereâs a hint of anxiety in your mind because the only explanation must be that something is wrong and your brain is yelling at you to figure out what. You sit up carefully, fumbling slightly as your hand searches for the light on your nightstand. You flick it on.
However, it is not the sight of red that makes your heart skip a beat. It is that you feel it; you are sitting in a pool of your blood, its dampness cold and clammy underneath you as it has soaked through your sleep shorts only to stain the sheets in a dark, crimson color. Where it comes from hasnât clicked yet but when you throw the covers to the side, the realization of what is happening creates a drop in your stomach that is nauseating.Â
Your heart sinks at the thought of what is lost and your breath catches in your throat before you let out a wreaking sob, frantically scooting back on the bed until you are pressed into the bedframe and wanting to get away from what feels like a bodily crime. Your hand is on your belly, your breathing so fast that it is dizzying.Â
Beside you, Javier stirs from his sleep when his mind registers the noises coming from you. He blinks a few times in his barely-awake state, confusion evident on his features, until the realization hits him as well and his eyes widen.Â
He sits up immediately and flicks on the lamp on his own bedside table, âFuck, baby. Fuck, fuck, fuck.â
âIâm losing it,â you breathe so rapidly that you are about to throw up, trying to abstain from looking at the trail of blood you have made from moving around on the bed, âIâm losing the baby. Javi, Iâ Iâm losing my baby. Iâm loâ Iâm losing my baby.â
Javier is out of bed not a moment after, having walked around it to stand by your side. He puts a firm hand on your shoulder, demeanor having changed to show that he is completely in control of the room. He squeezes you, âHey, heyheyhey, hey, baby. Eyes on me, mi amor (my love).â
You raise your gaze to him, your wet eyes huge like a doeâs from the panic in your body. You sound so frail as you talk, your voice filled with nausea, and Javier feels like he could punch a hole into the Earth for you, âIâm not pregnant anymore. Iâmâ my baby. Iâm not⌠Javi.â
âHoney, we gotta get you out of bed, okay?â Javier tries to hold his own tears at bay. He swallows a little too often, still struggling with the disorientation of being abruptly interrupted in his sleep. You take his hand when he offers it, and he gets you onto your feet, âThatâs it, there you go. We have to get you to the hospital. They have to take a look at you. We donât know anything yet.â
âI know but⌠I think I do know,â you are sobbing on the spot, barely comprehensible as you do it but you still follow when he starts guiding you down the stairs. He wraps you in your longest coat, gets the car keys, and walks you to the truck all the while praising you with each step.
âBut the car seats,â you cry, trying not to gag from the whole situation, âIâm bleeding.â
âFuck the car seats, baby,â he reassures, stroking his hands up and down your shoulders, âListen to me. Iâm going to get Lucas. I donât want to leave you here all alone but I need to get him, okay?â
You nod with a whimper, so brave in this moment of peril that it floors him a little. How do you manage to think of anyone else when you are experiencing the most horrific thing? He unlocks the car for you and makes sure you get inside alright.Â
âFive minutes,â he says, holding up his hand for show in case your ears are ringing like his are. Then he staggers back into the house with the most neutral expression he can force onto his face. Upstairs, Lucas is sobbing loudly in his nursery as he has sensed that his parents have gone. He is holding onto the railing of his bed, screaming his head off from anxiety but Javier feels nothing but relief at the sound because then at least he is alive and breathing. Who knew those little lungs could make such noise?Â
He hurries to his sonâs side and scoops him up into his arms, cooing soothing words at him as he moves through the house like he is treading water. Lucas doesnât seem convinced and Javier doesnât blame him, frustration building up in his chest as his son cries until he feels tears escaping his eyes as well.Â
âI know, mijo (my son), Iâm sorry we left, Iâm so sorry,â he says with a shaky breath, passing the car with guilt in his chest to cross the neighborsâ front lawn. He knocks frantically on the front door, waiting impatiently while bouncing Lucas to make him settle even if itâs to no avail.Â
The Correas, the elderly couple, who live next door open the door with bleary eyes, startled by the noise at three in the morning. Mrs. Correa looks at Lucas with sympathy but then frowns in concern at the lack of color on Javierâs face.Â
âYou alright, son?â Mr. Correa asks.
âI need toââ Javier catches the swear that bubbles up in his throat but he doesnât manage to keep his sob in. He bounces Lucas desperately but he still shrieks, âMy wife needs to go to the hospital. I know itâs late but we really need your help. Can you take him? I know itâs a lot to ask forââÂ
They exchange glances of concern but then Mrs. Correa nods and her husband squeezes her shoulder with a little smile, âOf course, dear. Anything to help.â
Javier passes his son to them, and they already start comforting him with soothing words during his wailing for his parents. Javier hears him even as they close the door, bombarded with the image of his tiny frame being wracked by fear and confusion every time he blinks. He feels it coming as he approaches the car again, the burning sensation in his throat that makes him run to the nearest bush and empty his guts into it, coughing up bile because he hasnât eaten since dinner time. He isnât a father of two anymore. Was he ever? He canât figure out where definitions start or end. This is worse than anything he felt back in Colombia.
Back in the car, youâve gone numb. Javier finds you sitting in the backseat with your knees against your chest and your arms clutching around them. He swallows at the sight of the red stains on the car seats, the red on your palms too. You look so small as he glances at you in the rearview mirror, wrapped in yourself with your eyes distant as if youâre trying to make yourself disappear. He wants to say something but he is at a loss for words, figuring that he might make it worse if he tries to comfort you in a situation that is unable to be comforted.Â
However, as the car takes off and he drives you towards the hospital, things seem to make everything worse on their own accord. You suddenly gasp on the backseat, clutching at your lower belly as your pelvic floor starts to cramp up. Any hope that this might have just been bleeding is squashed because you know instantly that your body is trying to reject something.Â
Javier reaches behind his seat to take your hand in his own, feeling your clammy palm and trying his hardest to not let it show how helpless he feels, âIâm almost there, okay? Theyâll get you something for the pain, baby. Theyâll take care of you.âÂ
You nod with gritted teeth, feeling like the rest of the drive is longer than an eternity. Seconds feel like minutes, minutes like hours in this fog of pain mixed with grief. You donât know when youâve started crying again but tears drip down from your chin, landing on the coat that you try to drown in.Â
When heâs finally pulling into the hospitalâs parking lot, youâve laid down on the backseat with tears streaming steadily down your face until they dampen your hair. You can barely breathe every time sharp pains in your pelvic floor crash over you like a wave, causing you to whimper like a wounded stray.Â
Javier slams the door behind him as he hurries to help you out of the backseat. His heart hammers in his chest as adrenaline rushes through his veins. He remembers this feeling from his time in Colombia, the dizzying high from being on guard and ready to fight, but he didnât actually think that he would ever experience it again.Â
âCâmon, baby, just a few steps, attagirl,â he coos as he walks with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, you hanging onto him for support as you tremble. He was, however, never quite this gentle in Colombia.Â
The automatic doors to the emergency room slide open and Javier canât see anything for a few seconds due to how bright the lights are. He manages to get your staggering body inside, barely making it to the nurse at the front desk before she calls for assistance and a wheelchair.Â
Two nurses help you into the chair, already asking questions that quickly blur together and follow each other so rapidly that he cannot comprehend what is being said, hearing nothing but the adrenaline-infused blood rush in his ears. You answer mechanically, something that frightens him too, your mind seemingly trying to process the reality of what is happening while he feels in the middle of it, overwhelmingly aware.Â
They wheel you to a private examination room, helping you undress, and then onto a table. Javier follows helplessly behind, making himself known by saying your name so you donât fear that he has abandoned you in all this. He holds your hand tightly while watching a middle-aged doctor enter the room, a serious expression on his face as the both of you cry silently. As the doctor does a quick scan of your belly, Javier tries to hold onto you, feeling as if youâll fall apart if he lets go.
Your doctor is silent for a while, his mouth a thin line as he moves the stick around on your stomach. He looks like someone who hopes for better things than what he sees on the screen, uncomfortably quiet and drowned out by the whirring of the ultrasound machine. Eventually, he swallows thickly.Â
âIâm so sorry,â he says softly. âThereâs no heartbeat.â
The words hit Javier like a punch to the stomach, knocking the breath out of him. His vision blurs with tears, and he hears a wail of grief escape your lips, raw with anguish and absolutely heart-wrenching.
He keeps hearing the sentence inside his head, feels his knees start to tremble so much that he has to grip the edge of the table youâre lying on until his knuckles are white if he doesnât want to collapse to the floor. Your wailing is unbearable, cutting through him until everything hurts and bile starts rising in his throat again. He swallows it down despite the burn, trying not to think of how robbed he feels; thereâs laughter and sibling rivalry that wonât be happening now.Â
In front of him, the doctor is holding his hands in front of himself, palms clasped tightly together as he gives you a moment. He looks down at nothing in particular, looking like someone counting the seconds until it is okay to open his mouth again. Javier doesnât want him to say a single goddamn word.
But he speaks again, and Javier tries not to want to punch a hole through him. âWe need to act quickly. Your wifeââ
Javier glares at him. He turns to you, âMrs. PeĂąa, youâre losing a lot of blood, and thereâs a risk of infection. We need to perform a procedure to remove everything from the pregnancy to ensure your safety and recovery.â
You look to the doctor, swallowing thickly through the tears, and then glance at Javier. He leans in to rest his forehead against yours, holding your hand as it rests in your lap, âThey need to take care of you now, okay?â
âDonât leave me,â you beg quietly, breaths shaky.
âIâm right here, Iâm not leaving,â he replies, brushing his thumb over your knuckles repeatedly, trying to ground you. You nod slowly and look so small, âI love you so much, baby. You need to let them take care of you for me.â
âOkay,â your voice is barely there, weak and frightened.Â
The medical team works quickly after that. A nurse puts an IV into your arm and gives you something for your anxiety, causing you to half-doze off while they wheel you out of the room.Â
Javier walks down the hallways of the hospital until he cannot follow you anymore, his hand slipping from yours as you are wheeled into an available OR. When the doors close behind the team of medical professionals following you, the reality of what theyâre going to be doing to you crashes over him like an avalanche. It is unbearable. Each second feels worse than the last.Â
A kind nurse touches his arm, makes him flinch, but then she apologizes and tells him the directions to the waiting room. His feet take him there without him quite knowing how but when he finally collapses into a chair against the wall, he doubles over and buries his face in his hands. A shaky breath leaves him in the colorless room, his thumbs pressing into his eyes until fireworks go off behind his eyelids. Thereâs the sound of the clock on the wall ticking quietly and then thereâs the sound of his violent sobs, his chest burning as he finally allows himself to let devastation consume him.Â
âFuck,â he swears under his breath, âFuck, fuck, fuck.â
He has never felt this kind of fear, not even when he was fighting for his life in Colombia, and never knew the outcome of the dangers he faced. This isnât the same terror that ambushes and flying bullets coming from machine guns brought along because back then, he knew - and still knows - how to act to keep himself safe, to get out of there alive. But back then, there was nothing to lose and if tragedy was upon him, it was only him arriving home in a casket. This is new and the fear suffocates him because thereâs no clear enemy to fight, no escape route or strategy that can save him from watching his family suffer. His instincts tell him to return the fire but thereâs no fire to return. All he can do is sit idly with the feeling that he canât fix this, canât protect you or him from the hurt. All his instincts from the chaos of Colombia are useless here.Â
Instead, he just feels like he did when he sat through the funeral of his mother at barely ten years old. This fact makes him reach into his pocket and fish out his work phone to dial the number of his fatherâs landline with the intention of getting told what to do, his inner child screaming for the soothing words and guidance of his parent.Â
Chucho PeĂąa answers groggily on the fourth ring, âÂżBueno?â
âPapĂĄâŚâ Javier breathes quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He feels his throat constrict as tears well up in his eyes again and how the words suddenly feel too hard to speak.Â
Chucho knows something is wrong from the way his son trails off and suddenly his voice comes through the receiver again, sharper and fully awake, âÂżQuĂŠ pasa, hijo? (Whatâs going on, son?)â
Javier swallows hard around the lump in his throat, his nose prickling, âIâm calling from the hospital. Weâ we lost the baby, Dad. There was so much blood. I didnât know what to do.â
Thereâs a moment where he can only hear his fatherâs hitched breath, the older man seemingly trying to process what he has just been told. He clears his throat, âLo siento mucho, Javi (Iâm so sorry, Javi). You donât have to have all the answers right now.â
âBut I am sitting here and I am doing nothing,â he answers bitterly and a tear rolls down his face again just when he thinks he has it under control.Â
âJavier, listen to me,â Chucho commands, his voice still soft even when he is stern, âSome things we have no power over. Losing your mother taught me that. You donât have to fix it, mijo (my son). You just have to be there.â
Javier wants to throw up at the mention of his mother. He shudders in his seat, trying to push down the flood of tears that threatens to repeat itself as before he made this call. He doesnât want to think about his mother, doesnât want to experience loss that same way again. All he wants is to fix it, âItâs not enough.â
âIt is enough. She doesnât need anything more from you, and even if this feels like it overshadows everything, youâll find something to fight for. For me, it was you. And for you, itâll be your family. Lucas. And her.â
âFuck,â Javierâs throat tightens again as his thoughts turn to Lucas. He had barely been able to say goodbye before rushing out of the house, and the guilt of seeing his tiny, devastated face is going to keep hurting for a while. âI left him next door, Lucas, I mean. He was screaming for me, Pop, and I just left him.â
Chuchoâs voice softens even further in reassurance, âYou did what you had to, mijo (my son). Heâs safe. Do you want me to get him? I can be there by morning. I can take care of him, handle things at the house so you can focus on her. Whatever you both need, Javi. You donât have to do this alone.â
âI donât want to bother you, PapĂĄ. Itâs late, andââ
âJavier,â Chucho interrupts, the gentle sternness returning but when he continues, Javier swears he can hear his voice wavering even as he tries to be strong. âYouâre not bothering me. You are my family. Youâre my son, and you need help. Iâll be there if you need me. Say the word, and Iâm on my way.â
A nurse taps Javier on the shoulder. He looks up at her and she gives him a gentle smile as soon as she sees the tear streaks on his face. She speaks softly, âYour wife is recovering from surgery. Everything went smoothly. You can go see her now, Iâm sure sheâll wake up any moment.â
âPapĂĄ,â he speaks into the phone after mouthing a âthank youâ to the nurse, sighing softly, âSheâs out of surgery. I gotta go see her now.â
âYou want me to go get Lucas?â Chucho asks as a final question.
âIf itâs not too much trouble thenââ
âItâs not,â he reassures steadfastly, âHang up. Iâll make sure everything is okay at home. Te quiero tanto (I love you so much).â
âTe quiero tambiĂŠn (I love you too),â Javier replies and hangs up. He pockets his phone and pushes himself to stand, walking to the front desk to get your room number, and then practically runs down the hallway to get to you faster.Â
He enters the hospital room after bracing himself outside the door. Youâre lying underneath the dimly lit lights in the ceiling that are supposed to be soothing but have lost their charm. Javier has never seen you actually sleep soundly in a hospital room, barely saw you do it when you had Lucas because you didnât like the cold, sterile interior. He doesnât like seeing it now because he knows youâre not sleeping on your own accord, especially does not like seeing it accompanied by the steady beeping sound of a heart rate monitor.Â
He carefully drags a chair across the room to sit by your bed, dropping down into it with a small sigh from finally being at your side again. You donât move by the little noise, and he recalls the nurse telling him that the drugs might take an hour or so to wear off enough for you to wake.Â
âIâm here, mi amor (my love),â he hears himself whisper, taking your hand in his own and resting his body against the white mattress. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to doze off while still being completely aware of the room around him. He had no idea that sleep would overtake him as soon as he saw you, all the tension of wondering if he ever was going to again seeping out of his body.Â
The clock tells him that half an hour has passed when he jolts awake but it only feels like barely a minute, his poor back killing him from leaning forward in the chair. Your fingers twitch in his hand - a sign that youâre waking up - and the pace of the pulse monitorâs beeping increases. He straightens to watch your eyes flutter beneath your lids before you blink a few times to adjust to the lights. Confusion clouds your face for a moment before the memory of what has happened hits, and Javier sees the pain flood back in without being able to do anything. He squeezes your hand, trying to offer some comfort, but it feels useless against the weight of what youâre about to remember.
âHey,â he says quietly and you turn your head to the sound of his voice. He is sure that he looks tired, bags under his eyes, âI was waiting for you to wake up to me.â
When you donât say anything, he reaches out to gently run a hand over your hair, his thumb occasionally rubbing against the spot between your eyebrows, just like he has come to love it when you do it. He soothes you whilst you try to find out what is happening, speaks quietly and gently, âAre you thirsty? Hungry?â
âWhereâs Lucas?â You donât register the question, voice cracking as you speak and Javier is sure you are distracted by the lack of life in your belly. He swallows thickly as you talk, âWe left him. Heââ
âHeâs fine. Heâs with the neighbors. I made sure heâs safe,â he pauses to press a kiss to your forehead before resting his head where his lips have been, âHeâs okay, baby. Pop will get him in the morning. You donât have to worry about him.â
Itâs as if the fact that you donât have to be strong for your son makes your face crumble. You breathe shakily as tears start to well up in your eyes. For a moment, it looks like you cannot breathe and then you sob.Â
âItâs my fault,â you tell him through tears.
âWhat? No⌠no,â Javier feels disoriented by that statement, pulling back to let you see him shaking his head, âNo, baby. Why on earth would you say that? Of course, itâs not.â
âI shouldâve been more careful. I shouldâve known something was wrong, but I didnât, and nowâ We couldâve seen a doctorââ
âNo,â Javier interrupts firmly. He takes your hand to stress his words. He suddenly feels strong in your hour of need despite his own tears having started to fall from his eyes, âNo, donât do that. This wasnât your fault. You couldnât have known. You did everything you could, everything you were supposed to do for our baby.â
He watches tears slide down your cheeks until they drip down from your chin, some of them even sliding down into your messy hair. He pushes the chair back when he gets up from his seat, the legs on it scraping loudly across the floor.Â
You are inconsolable even when he moves onto the edge of the bed, one leg stretched out on the mattress and another dangling over the edge, so he can plant his foot on the floor. He holds you gently, crumbling the sheets by wearing his usual jeans in bed, and rests his lips against the top of your head.Â
âHey hey hey,â he shushes you softly and rocks you as much as he can without disturbing your IV, âYou have already given me - us - a beautiful boy. You are so good to me.â
You quiet down a little at that but there seem to be no words to describe how you feel. You whimper at his words and shake your head, and it makes him ache to make all of this go away.Â
âYes,â he stresses, reaching for your hand to hold it against his mouth. He kisses it repeatedly, opening your hand like a flower to kiss your palm too, âI love you both so much, and I love our baby. Even if they werenât ready to meet us.â
âHow can you love me when I canât evenââ
He shushes you gently, cooing at you as he would his son whenever he is in distress, âYou are not hard to love, baby.â
âYes, I am,â you sniffle.
âNo, youâre not,â he sniffles, feeling a tear drip onto the covers, his hand still clutching yours to ground the both of you, âLoving you is the easiest thing Iâve ever done. You and I are forever, you know that.â
And this is where your cries intensify because you had never expected to find anyone who would do this for you, say these things to you. You weep and kick and scream for your baby in the small hospital bed, and Javier holds you through it all, not wavering once.
Silence fills the room when you miraculously feel empty of tears even if itâs brief. You breathe deeply into the quiet room, not sure what to do from now on because it feels too surreal to imagine going home.
âWe can try again soon,â Javier says eventually.Â
âItâs going to take a while,â you reply.Â
âThen it will,â he reassures, reaching up to run a hand over your hair and kissing it too.Â
âOkay,â you sniffle.Â
âOkay,â he repeats and then pulls you close so you can bury your face in his chest. He rests his palm on the back of your head, cradling you gently, âNow weâre just gonna lie here and you are gonna let me protect you from everything in the world. Just for a moment.â
You let him and he lets you cry quietly into his shirt whilst he coos at you. The only other sound is the sound of the hospital; its continuous, rhythmic beeping, and the sound of squeaky shoes worn by nurses that pass by outside. Javier rests his cheek against your head. He can tell you feel soothed by the way he breathes quietly against you, the steady and reliable sound of his heartbeat, and his chest moving up and down.Â
âÂ
The sun has gone down enough over Chuchoâs ranch that everything has a golden hue. You kiss and hug goodnight and then head to the car, an SUV that has replaced the truck a few months prior. You are walking a few steps in front of Javier, dangling the key for Lucas to take because he has asked to press the button to unlock the car. Your son snatches the bundle and runs along excitedly, watching the car lights with fascination as they blink when he pushes the button.Â
You grin over your shoulder at Javier who smiles back at you. On his strong arm, InĂŠs is fast asleep with her legs dangling with each step he takes as he carries her to the car. Her mouth hangs open, her eyelids flutter just slightly, and sometimes, she grabs at her fatherâs shoulders without waking up. She wears her new sandals, the ones with sunflowers on them that she begged you to get for her when you were last out shopping with her. Javier carries her so gently. You look at the sky behind them, feeling a tug in your heart.Â
Itâs been four years since you lost their sibling. However, thereâs a feeling of peace within you now, even if that night in the hospital is always with you, lingering just beneath the surface. Now, instead of a sharp constant ache, it has dulled into a grief that sometimes knocks on memoryâs door and you answer it by letting Javier hold you a little tighter in the house that has become your home even more.Â
Lucas crawls into the backseat and confidently clicks his seatbelt in, having neared that age where he desperately wants to show you how much he can do by himself and grins with a ÂĄMira, MamĂ ! (Look, Mom!) to win your praise. He has grown so much since that night, doesnât even remember it that much but you have talked to him about it a few times when he has caught you in your grief, mostly back when it was a fresh wound to your heart and tears would sneak up on you out of the blur. Itâs rare that heâll mention it now but he knows he has two siblings; one here with him and one that he didnât get to meet.Â
You had been so afraid of letting him carry the weight of your grief, trying to find the right words that would not overwhelm him but seeing him grin at you out of the car window, you know that you have done just fine. You wave at him with a big smile and knock on the window as you pass by it to see his excitement bubble over in a little laugh.Â
You sense that Javier lags behind and when you turn around, you see him cradling InĂŠs in his arms as she only blinks a few times but doesnât fully wake. He is quiet as he coos down at her, cupping the back of her small head and kissing her head with a smile. He loves her, thereâs no doubt. You think back to how scared you both were after losing the baby, unsure if you could go through it one more time if it were to end up in tragedy again. But here she is, your precious daughter, peacefully asleep in her fatherâs arms who will do anything for her safety.
He meets your gaze as he walks up to you and smiles enough to make his eyes crinkle. You offer to take your daughter but he shakes his head, so instead you walk to the side where InĂŠsâ car seat is and open the door for them.Â
Your husband carefully lowers InĂŠs into her seat beside Lucas, and you catch the way his fingers linger, brushing her cheek as he fastens her in. She stirs slightly but doesnât wake, her little mouth still hanging open, completely at peace.
When the both of you are in the car - you in the passenger seat - Javier puts a hand on your thigh. He squeezes it, rubbing a soothing circle with his thumb, âÂżEstĂĄs bien? (You okay?)â
You nod, glancing back at the kids in the rearview mirror before turning to him with a soft smile, âEstoy bien, te prometo (Iâm okay, I promise).â
He looks at you for a moment, searching your face like he always does, making sure youâre truly okay. When he sees the truth in your eyes, he leans over the control center to kiss your lips like he has a million times before, âGood.ââKeys, mijo (my son),â he then says and Lucas hands him the car keys when he is asked, stretching dramatically to reach his fatherâs hand and looking curiously when Javier inserts it in the ignition and starts the car, âLetâs go home.â
.
.
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Love Tap
Pairing: Dad!Joel x Reader
Summary: Old habits die hard with your husbandâtouching you at inappropriate times is one of them.
Warnings: 18+. Joel Miller is a MUNCH Oral (f!receiving). Unprotected p-in-v (quickie). Slice of life, domestic-style and Joel calls you âMamaâ a whole lot. One playful bite.
Word count: 2.4k
Note: âYou better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck upâ is a line from 2Pacâs song, âHit âEm Up.â
Joel Miller was a wonderful father.
Occasionally, he forgot how to act like one.
He had a tendency to get a little careless. Sloppy.
Letting the dignified, ever-respectful façade slip every now and again and smacking your ass when you walked past. Copping a feel when you had to squeeze by him in the kitchen. Best of all, pinching your cheek through your skirt while you were cradling the babyâhis babyâand leaving you no choice but to shoot him a quick back-the-fuck-up-before-you-get-smacked-the-fuck-up look and a covert middle finger to remind him that he wasnât supposed to be slapping your butt in front of the kids.
It was just bad practice to engage in those dumb, flirty antics, particularly when your four-year-old son had made it his mission in life to imitate everything dad did.
But again, Joel would sometimes forget that.
On a morning when heâd woken up a little too early with an erection that was a tad too stubborn to ignore, he got especially forgetful. He found himself plastered to your backside at the edge of the bathroom counter with a grin, knowing damn well you only had twenty-five minutes to get the family dressed, fed, and on the road.
âJoel, you are soââ
âQuick. Iâll be quick.â
His eyes suddenly pleading with yours in the mirror. You just mightâve had the willpower to turn his honeyed gaze away were it not for the lips that followed it. Tracing the shell of your ear and behind it, down your neck, leaving trails of soft kisses down the skin until he reached the collarbone, your sweet spot, and licked itâthe bastard.
âFive. Minutes.â Your words were equal parts invitation and warning as you shimmied your PJs over your butt.
âYou know Iâll have ya finished in two, sweet pea,â Joel teasedâbut deep down, you knew he wasnât kidding.
Both of you had cum and were done in a record-breaking four and a half minutes, swapping pyjamas for normal clothes in less than half the time and stepping back out of the bathroom with your hair only marginally tousled.
By now you had the âPre-K starts in thirtyâ types of quickies down pat. You were proud. You glanced over your shoulder to see a similar glint in Joelâs eye, and as you started out the bedroom door, you felt a tap on your assâor, with the sheer breadth of your husbandâs hand, more like a WHACK, followed by the sound of a stifled laugh.
âCan Daddy get some moreâa that later?â he quipped.
âMoreâa what?â
Aw, hell.
Your sweet, forever nosy mini-Joel was standing directly in front of you with two pinched brows and a mostly eaten dino nugget clenched tight in his tiny fist.
You opened your mouth to conjure up some half-assed excuse for the spank your son just saw, but then your husband was scooping the kid up in his arms and toting him straight down the hallway, and you heard, faintly:
âWhatcha gettinâ from Mama later?â
âNone of your beeswax, bubs.â
Joel got his second helping around lunchtime.
Heâd been in between calls with what felt like an endless stream of subcontractors, suppliers, architects, and project managers when he swung by the house. You were in the midst of baking cardamom buns when he blew through the kitchen like an EF5 tornado and decided heâd be feasting on something else entirely.
âJoel, my buns,â you whined as soon as heâd carried you up the stairs and tossed you onto the bed, eager as ever.
âFuck your buns.â
âYou already fucked âem this morningâcan you relax?â
Your husband already had your pants tugged halfway down your legs. You let him, then helped him kick the fabric the rest of the way off when it got to your ankles.
âYouâre a fuckinâ maniac, Miller, yâknow that?â
Something in the way he smirked as he sank his face between your bare thighs told you he already knew that. You wouldâve liked to try and scold him againâgive him a little more grief for the baked treats that would surely be burnt to a crisp by the time he was doneâbut then you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your slit, and you refrained.
Even if youâd wanted to, you scarcely wouldâve been able to form a single word apart from, âFu-cking hell, Joelâ and âRight there, right thereohfuuuuuuckfuckfuck.â
That was just fine by your husband.
In fact, he seemed perfectly content to lap at your slick, glistening folds while you moaned and cursed his name; it made him proud. Appreciative. Maybe even a tad too smug for his own good, if he were being honest, because the way you fisted his hair and rutted your hips against his face made you act a little more like him. A touch more reckless, sloppy, and desperate than your daily obligations as parents would seem to allow. A bit less proper and refined and a lot more sluttyâall for him.
Joel teased your clit with a few soft touches from the tip of his tongue, and you almost tore the sheets in two.
âThat feel good, Mama?â he hummed.
âF-Fingers, fuck, Joelâ fingers,â you begged.
Still using his tongue, Joel drew the shape of a lemniscate extra slow just to spite you. You whined and bucked your hips in protest, but the man was undeterredâhe knew exactly what he was doing. The only way he could be tempted to use his fingers now would be to spread your lips apart and lick you more, which he did.
Joel licked and sucked and drove you up the fucking wall with those figure eights until you nearly couldnât take it. In one hasty, desperate move, you tilted your hips and tried to slip a finger past Joelâs mouth, into your cunt.
He bit that finger. You yelped.
âJOEL!â
It wasnât that the bite actually hurtâhis teeth barely grazed skinâbut rather the way he refused to speed up. Gauging your wants and your needs with expert precision, he massaged the hood of your clit with his tongue and took care to plant suckling kisses as he did. You moaned and squeezed the bedspread, relishing the vulgar sounds of his mouth and the need he was building inside you. You turned your head to the side and whined into the pillow, knowing from the depths of your soul you needed release, but Joel just wouldnât oblige youâŚyet.
When he grinned against your wet, warm, and slippery folds, his mouth might as well have joined in and said, âKeep goingâyouâll cum on my tongue when I say so.â
Instead, Joel opted to say âMamaâ again, softly.
Mama.
He always called you that when he took you extra slow. Sometimes when he took you quick, too. Like a reminder to you both that you were, in fact, the mother of his children, and if the man had had it his way heâd have given you fifty more by now, daycare bills be damned.
He was generous like that. Always giving, giving, giving.
Just not when it came to doling out orgasms sometimes.
âI have a divorce lawyer on speed dial, just so you know,â you hissed through gritted teeth, head falling back when Joelâs tongue sank forwardâinside you, then, âFUCK!â
âMhmmm,â he hummed before retracting once more. Licking the soft, fleshy rim and nearly eliciting a scream.
Joel traced a circle with his tongue. He savored the taste. While you were whining and grinding your hips against the wet spot underneath youâa puddle that would only grow larger the longer he went onâyour husband was devouring you, kissing your thighs every now and then.
âWell, if we split, my tongue goes too,â Joel said. Smug.
âTexas is a community property state,â you murmured, âI taught you how to eat pussy so your mouth is a marital asset.â
Silently, Joel wondered how that argument might hold up in court, grinned, then continued licking your cunt. You squeezed his head with your thighs, dug the balls of your feet in the sheets, and let out a lewd, pornographic scream that couldâve woken half the street. Luckily, your neighbors were probably all at work, your bedroom walls insulated just well enough to mask the noise, and Joelâs resolve crumbling slowly as he kissed between your legs.
One wanton, shameless, âIâm gonna cum, Joel, pleaseâ was like music to his ears. He couldnât believe how lucky heâd gotten with a wife and mother as sweet as you, so upright and polite in your day-to-day life and then a hot, trembling mess beneath his tongue when he needed you like this the most. Surely he couldnât treat you so mean.
Joel wedged two thick fingers in your slick, dripping heat and beckoned you to him as kindly as he possibly could. Rubbing the pads of both digits, callused as they were, against the spongy insides of your core and flicking them forwardââCâmere, Mama, Daddyâs right here, go onââ so of course, you had no other logical choice but to cum.
It was all habit by now. A dazzling, sumptuous routine.
And Joel Miller was certain heâd never tire of seeing it.
Your spine arched off the mattress an inch or two, toes curling at the feeling, and while the sensation spanned over your body, your husband was the first to see it, sense it on his lips and tongue and fingers just as well. He squeezed your hip, told you how fucking pretty you looked when you came for him, then patiently waited out the spasms and cries and fingers lacing through his soft, dark locks like he was your last remaining tether to earth.
Then he kissed the inside of your thighs and smiled.
âAll better, honey?â he hummed.
âYeah,â you breathed back.
âStill want a divorce?â
A smirk and a response of âNot until you knock me up at least one more timeâ was hovering somewhere over your tongue when you felt the bed shake. Buzzing. Vibrating?
Joel sat up between your legs and yanked something out from under his ass. He peered down at the thingâstaring into a screenâand cocked a brow as he looked back up.
âSomeoneâs been naughty,â he said simply. Grinning.
He lobbed the phone your way, and you just barely managed to catch it between two trembling hands.
Incoming Call: Francisco C. Morales Elementary
You shot Joel a look and answered it instantly.
Disoriented, disheveled, and slightly foggy from climax, you half-expected to find one of your sonâs disgruntled teachers on the other end of the line, reminding you that today was a noon dismissal and everyone was supposed to pick their kids up an hour ago. Your husband was the one who would always keep up with school schedules, so your gaze narrowed at him, butt scooting up the bed while he tried to dive right back between your legs.
âHe-llo?â
You smacked a hand away from the front of your blouse.
âIs this Mrs. Miller?â a voice trilled through the phone.
Yes, unfortunately, it was.
You almost had to backhand Joel across the face when he tried to bite the button off your brand new top, teeth ruthless in their pursuit of getting you fully naked now.
âThis is she,â you squeaked.
Someone cleared their throat on the other end of the lineâas though they knew you had a broad, hulking husband with a cock as hard as sheet metal trying to tear your clothes off while you talked. You stifled a shriek and a giggle when you felt your relentless man move down.
Joel was busy working your blouse from the bottom with that feral mouth of his when the voice sounded again:
âWeâd really appreciate it if you and your husband could come see us this afternoon to have a little chat aboutââ
Your eyes widened. You clutched your phone even tighter and this time, more seriously, shoved Joel away. When he frowned and started to pout, you raised a finger.
âA-About what? Has myâ has he done something bad?â Your voice all of a sudden tight, words wavering just enough to snag your husbandâs attention too.
âWe can explain more when you get here, heâs justâŚâ
âWhat the fuck?â Joel mouthed silently, leaning in.
âWhat? Whatâs he done?â You couldnât help it.
You heard a long sigh across the line, and you knew that wasnât good. It sounded a lot like the kind of sighs you made whenever your baby made a colossal mess all over the kitchen floor, or your husband slammed a door too loud and woke the kids from their nap, or your son justâ
ââkeeps slapping his classmates on the butt.â
âWait, what?â
You blinked. Joel coughed. Together, half-naked on the bed, you sat up a little straighter and leaned even closer into the phone, hearts starting to thud in your chests.
âYour son was justâŚspanking other kids and asking if he could âget some moreâa that later,â and when his teacher asked him where heâd learned to do a thing like thatââ
You turned. Joel paled. Your gaze couldâve seared a hole through the front of his skull if you stared any harder, and just as your sonâs principal continued talking, Joel raised his hands in surrender, already trying to apologize.
âHoneyââ
ââand he told her he saw your husband do it at homeââ
You didnât need to hear another word. You were already fishing for your pants, yanking them back up your legs and brushing aside your husbandâs soft, red-faced attempts at consolation, and when you were dressed, you started straight for the door. Already babbling some half-coherent apology to the woman on the phone, dodging Joelâs impossibly large hands and arms and hugs as he tried to pull you back into his chest and tell you he was sorry. You just mightâve let him, and maybe even believed him to be sincere, if you didnât see the tiniest smirk on his lips as he fought to wrangle you in.
Youâd made it to the door and were just about to pivot to give Joel the finger, tell him this was not funny at all, and he was coming with you right now, when both of you halted at the threshold and were obliged to turn again.
You sniffed the air, and your husband made a face.
Was itâ
Before you could think, a plume of smoke drifted out through the kitchen door. Your eyes widened, and right as the fire alarm let out its piercing scream, you wailed,
âMy buns!â
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Make It Stick
Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel never thought heâd need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected-peepaw-p-in-v (Iâm sorry). Accidental creampie. Age gap. Cumplay. Breeding kink. Ovulation has led me places I wouldnât go with a gun.
Note: Convergence is a painting by Jackson Pollock. We studied it in high school and I thought it looked like jizz idk
Word count: 4.7k
He shouldâve gotten snipped when he had the chance.
Shouldâve taken the plunge, faced his fears of needles and fluorescent-washed doctorâs offices like any man his age could have done and gotten the damn vasectomy. Now he was here, nearly two decades older and still none the wiser in this cold, dead world with a pretty young thing like you between his sheets. In lieu of elective surgery, Joel Miller had only to grit his teeth, bite hard, and repeat over and over again in his head, desperate:
âDonât cum, donât cum, donât cum, donât cum, DONâTââ
Words like those normally worked. With women that werenât you, they tended to serve him exceedingly well.
But you were just so tight. And wet. And welcoming. And try as Joel might to pretend like he got laid on a regular basis, the truth was that he didnât. Wouldnât. Couldnât seem to think straight when it came to this fixation heâd developed for you, so, instead, he let his dick do all the decision-making whenever he found himself around you. Ten times out of ten that ended in:
âJ-J-Joelâoh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuckâIâm gonna CUM.â
And that made it worth every last life-endangering drop.
Feeling how your flushed, lithe body came apart beneath his touch. How you needed him. How your eyes grew to half the size of your face and you gaped up at the man, lips parted, like you couldnât even comprehend how the friction of seven inches could make you feel so good.
If he had it his way, he wouldâve loved nothing more than to show you that feeling every night, and twice the next morning if his hip wasnât giving him too much trouble.
But, at present, the man had bigger fish to fry. Like not becoming a new father at fifty-nine if he could help it.
With the last two fluttering pulses of your heat, and almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure as he felt it, Joel yanked his big, slippery cock out of your body and made a fist around his member as he always knew to do. Tugged and pulled and grunted above youââSweet girl, youâre so fuckinâ good to meââand watched your tits and your belly for the milky white ropes to ensue.
Strangely, though, your skin stayed the same.
No cum-spray Convergence appeared before him, no opaque and cloudy fluids dribbling down your ribs, nothing. Your stomach was as bare as the rest of you, save for a few beads of sweat, and that was all there was.
Joel shook his dick harder, confused. Beneath him, you were still coming down from your high smiling ear-to-ear and staring blissfully at the ceiling. Your chest rose and fell, rose and fell in quick succession, and while you endeavored to recollect your mind, Joel was losing his.
Where the FUCK was his cum?
In no naked horizontal tango to date had Joel simplyâŚcum without noticing. Shit like that just didnât happen to men, least of all to ones his age, so when heâd wrung his poor cock like a sodden towel and still saw nothing come out, he felt his stomach turn and plummet inside him.
He dropped to his hands and knees in less than a moment and lowered his head between your legs.
âNo, Joel!â you squealed, giggling. Kicking your feet, âAnother round and Iâm gonna combust, you old perv!â
But Joel wasnât looking to get his dick wet again. He was inspecting you. Or trying to, anyway. Quickly realizing he couldnât see a thing in the darkness, he let out a breath through his nose and lifted you off the bed. Your naked frame thrown over his shoulder, bare hip beside his head and your strangled, muffled cry of, âWhat the hell, Joel?!â hardly seemed to register with the man carrying you off.
You were toted to the bathroom. Joel was about to ease you down on your feet. Then, appearing to change his mind at the last second, he set you onto the sink instead. Your skin bristled with indignation, anger. A little arousal.
âLast time we did it on a sink we broke the faucet,â you reminded him, feigning more dismay than you really felt inside. If anything, you liked it when your fossil-age fuckbuddy switched things up. You were just exhausted.
Heedless of your words, Joel kneeled on the floor and pried your legs apart before him. When you swatted at his silver-flecked head, he brushed your hand away.
âHold still,â he grunted.
âHow come?â
ââCause I said.â
How quickly he commanded that tone of a father.
âWanna sleep,â you groaned, about to roll your eyes.
But you couldnât deny you liked being doted on by him.
Joelâs touch was gentle. Probing. Spidering down the most sensitive parts of your bare lower half, between your thighs, and slowly coaxing you closer to the edge of the sink. Your breath hitched when you saw his head tilt.
He appeared to be deep in thoughtâa rare sight for anyone whoâd seen Joel Miller in the postcoital state. Most every time heâd blown his load before, the man was dead asleep within ten minutes. His joints could barely hold himself upright after a half hour of plowing the back forty, much less carry you, too, so you were puzzled now.
He thumbed at the seam of your cunt, and you whined:
âJo-elââ
âCan yaâŚpush, baby?â His eyes flitted up quickly.
âPush?â
âYeah, justâŚâ With a look you couldnât quite read, he placed the palm of his other hand on your belly. Then, pressing, âLike this. Like youâre squeezinâ somethinâ out.â
You cocked a brow in muted confusion but did as he asked. You watched his gaze, and it stayed on you.
Or, rather, on that soft and pliant spot between your legs the old man seemed to favor so much. On any other occasion, in a position like this, he surely wouldâve been wearing a smile. Tonight, his lips curled into a grimace.
And twisted even further when you âpushedâ like you did.
At first you felt nothing. A gentle clench of your walls supplied little more than a sense of having been stretchedâno novel concept to you, whoâd spent the last three-and-a-half months or so getting fucked by the finest AARP affiliate alive most every night. It wasnât until you clamped down again that you got the feeling there was something else. Something thick and warm and slow as molasses trickling out from between your folds.
You let out a low, tender, âMmphâ without meaning to; it felt kind of nice. Beneath you, Joelâs face turned grave.
He watched as his spend oozed out of your freshly-fucked hole and thought of vasectomies again.
You were youngâtoo young to know better. Too sweet and naĂŻve to see any peril in spreading your legs for a man like him, in a world like this. And Joel swore heâd be careful. But no post-apocalyptic birth control method was perfect, or even close to it, and it was clear heâd relied too heavily on reflexes to keep him from cumming inside you. Joel was oldâtoo old to be doing this shit.
Too grown and well-versed in sex to be making mistakes as stupid as that. His brow pinched in, and he drew his next breath as if the air around him was growing scarce.
âJoel, whatâsââ
âWhenâs the last time youâ youâ uhâŚbled?â
Hardly more in control of his face than the rate his heart went thudding in his chest, Joel winced at the end. This time, you were the one to knit your eyebrows together. You could tell by that tight, discomfited tone he wasnât talking papercuts, but were still unsure of his purpose.
âLike two, two and a half weeks ago. Why?â
Well, fuck.
Joel buried his face in his hands. You scooted closer to the sinkâs edge, thinking little of his cum leaking out.
âWhy?â you tried again. Softer this time.
An old, weathered head lifted to greet you. It was bleak.
âYou see this?â Joel paused. Swiping his finger through the viscous white substance that had trickled out on the counter, in a puddle now, âYâknow what it means, right?â
You let his look, and the question, remain suspended in air for a second. Then another. Then you shrugged.
âYeah. ButâŚyouâre old,â came your answer at length.
Youâre old.
Joel and you both knew as much, but the former wasnât quite following your train of thought. Still wanting to try and mitigate damages while he could, though, Joel reached for the roll of toilet paper that was fastened to the wall and tore himself a strip. He bunched it up and, reaching for one of your knees to spread you further for him, took to daubing the tissue across your entrance.
âWhatâs me beinâ old got to do with anything?â A little sharp, then, seeing you flinch when he drew too close to your clit, ââm sorry, baby, justâ gotta get this out of you.â
You made a face but let him continue anyway. Your eyes followed each movement of his hand, and reflexively, the muscles in your thighs tightened. Why bother with this when the man has so many better uses for his hands?
For a second, your eyes fluttered half-shut.
âMaria says old folks are, uhâŚinfertile. Got something to do with a middle pause,â you said, breaths labored.
Joel stopped just long enough to shoot you a look.
âMenopause,â he corrected, all too matter-of-fact, before returning to his work, âis a woman thing.â
What the hell were they teaching in Jacksonâs sex ed classes, anyway? Then Joel remembered how his brother sincerely believed that women peed out of their vaginas until he was twenty-three, and the thought of you not knowing the ins and outs of male virility wasnât the most far-fetched idea in the universe. Besides, sexual health wasnât exactly the communityâs highest priority when the world around it was in a perpetual state of decay and hordes of fungus-faced fuckers ran rampant in the wild.
He curved a tender, careful finger against the ring of muscles framing your sex, trying to absorb more cum, and your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened.
âS-So, youââ You swallowed, throat constricting a little too, âYouâre sayinââŚmen can make babiesâŚwhenever?â
You sounded so innocent as you said it. Joel wanted nothing more than to club himself over the head for being the cause of this predicamentâof being such an instrumental part of the perceived corruption, as it was.
Meanwhile, your head was swimming in filthier thoughts.
Deeper, Joel, keepâŚpushing inâŚdee-e-per. You would have scarcely had more luck giving a fuck what Joel was talking about now than if heâd just said the room was on fire. By his voice, you knew you shouldâve been paying attention, but the dexterity of his fingers was too much. He was caressing the first couple inches of your inner walls, attempting to scrape what bits of his release he could get unstuck from the flesh, but it seemed he was succeeding mostly in just turning you on. Rendering you deaf to the drone of his words as you pictured him pushing something else inside your tight, throbbingâ
ââwhole lotta problems for us if youâre, uhâŚovulating,â Joel finished, expression taut and oblivious. You hadnât heard the first part of that sentence and didnât care to.
âOvulating,â you repeated slowly. Indifferent.
Joel carried on without a hitch.
âKids just ainât fit for this world. I know you know that.â
You nodded along, not hearing a word.
âAnd if youâreâ if yâever did consider, maybeâŚâ
Your lungs took an extra sharp inhale when Joelâs fingers coaxed out a warm, sticky glob of his load, and he petted your folds with his thumb. Then let out a breath himself.
ââŚyâoughta start a family with someone your own ageââ
That part snagged your attention. Too swiftly, it came:
âMy own age?â
Sighing, in spite of those welts of pleasure so heightened by his touch that the space between your legs began to throb and ache. Hardly possessed of more sense to form words that werenât just echoes of his own, you tried communication from a simpler sourceâyour foot.
You nudged his shoulder, and Joel looked up.
âWhat?â
âWhat?â
Parroting was, evidently, a hard habit to kill. Your toes curled into the bare skin of Joelâs shoulder, and when he re-inserted his finger, you ground your heel even deeper.
âWhenâs that evâŚever stopped us from doing it before, hm?â you said, tone strained but laced with some humor too, âThought you liked sayinâ youâd make me a mama.â
Joelâs face flooded pink at the recollectionâas a matter of fact, there had been several such memories. Instead of answering immediately, he just averted his gaze again. He anchored one hand to your thigh, and with the other teased out another string of your shared arousal before wiping his finger on the tissue, clinically, and repeating. All he had to offer in reply after was: âThatâs different.â
And it was, to some extent. Joel wasnât blind to the sea of uneasy looks that trailed behind you both whenever you walked the streets of Jackson together. How wide the eyes would get when instead of observing some filial display of affection play out before them, as expected, youâd loop your arms around his waist and take his lip between your teeth as you kissedââCan we please go home now, baby?ââthat Joel was certain heâd been cemented as the resident pervert among everyone in town. Just how much worse that reputation was liable to get if there ever happened to be a round and swollen belly between that embrace someday was unthinkable. Dirty talk was one thing; parenthood another entirely.
This is for the best, became the low, grating refrain in his skull. Why he dug so hard, pushed so far inside the wet, velvety interior of your body without a thought for his own desires in that moment; he had to cull every trace of himself out of there, before he had half a chance to think.
âBaby, hey, hey, noââ Joel cut in a second later, abrupt.
No, no, no. You werenât thinking either. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper inside.
Smiling a little, too.
âWhat are youâ no, honey, donâtâ you canât,â Joelâs words splintered in every direction, watching you plunge his own index and middle fingers into the slick and the warmth heâd just been trying to get his cum out of. He looked up and saw your lids were heavy, about to close.
âWhat are you doinâ? This ainâtâŚno, baby, it ainâtâŚsafe.â
Back to sounding like a dad in no time at all.
âWhatâs wrong with leaving it in a bit longer? Feels nice.â
You had no idea what you were talking about. Joel pulled back on his hand and, in less than a second, had it freed.
âI just told you,â he huffed, âYouâre too youngââ
âIâm plenty old, Joel,â you returned, eyes snapping open, âYouâve shown me that more times than I can count.â
Joel was silent, stunned. He rose to his feet as your eyes seared holes into his, and for a second, he was uncertain whether to take a step back or reach out for you again.
âBabyâŚâ
To his surprise, something like hurt surfaced behind your eyes. You set your lips in a tighter line, and your grip on the counter grew firmer just the same. He wouldâve taken that move as his cue to lean in gently, slot his body between your thighs, and venture an apology of some sort, when the next thing you did stopped him cold.
Without a word, you slipped your free hand between your legsâeyeing Joel closely, almost scornfully, as you did.
You took your middle and ring fingers and sank them into your cunt. Not intending to let a drop of his spend leak out, you wedged them in as far as theyâd go. Joel watched. Gawked. Once sufficiently pleased with the look of shock taking over his handsome, aged features, you withdrew the fingers. You brought them up to your mouth, wrapped your lips around the tips, and sucked.
It was a rare thing to get a taste of you and Joel together like this, so you savored it. You moved your mouth further down to drink it all in, peering up with wide, indulgent eyes and a look that was meant to punish.
Feels nice.
Tastes alright, too.
Youâd licked the last bit of this glaze off your hand when your stomach clenched. You knew it would happen. Full as you were, you feared your body still hungered for more. As such, it hardly came as a surprise when next your muscles tensed, and you shifted closer to Joel.
âMaybe I donât want babies with someone my own age.â
Either one of your knees were nudging his hips. Drawing him in. Joel appeared to waver for a second, unsure, but the look on his face made it clear this was mostly a matter of a delayed reaction. He couldnât get his legs to move because the rest of him was still in awe. Staring at your lips, where the residue of his spend was glistening, then to your eyes, which were no less inviting, then up to the crown of your head and over it, to fix his stare on the mirror behind it. You watched him watch his own reflection with a look that was both hard and unkind, breathing slow. When he didnât stir from that position after a minute, you touched a hand to his lower stomach.
And, brushing the heel of your palm against what felt like a hundred grey hairs in the old manâs happy trailâyour favorite onesâyou smoothed a caress along his belly, back and forth, before moving it left. Your hand came to rest on a mound of muscle and fat sitting right above his hip. Love handles, Joel had remarked one morning with vague distaste. Love handles, youâd repeated, beaming. You held on tightly now, appreciatively, and used your well-loved wall of flesh to pull him closer. As with any beckoning of yours, Joel didnât have so much as half a mind to resist. He did, however, refuse to meet your gaze while you tilted your hips and spread your legs wider, before winding your ankles around the backs of his legs.
âDonât you think Iâd look pretty?â You pouted up at him. Your folds made a light, warm suction rubbing along the front of Joelâs cockâof course heâd grown hard again, and you could hold him, point him down to that wet embrace awaiting him patiently at the edge of the sink.
Joel cursed under his breath.
ââCourse I doâŚâ he said, voice hoarse, âYâalways lookââ
âI meanâŚwith your baby inside me, Joel. Right here.â
As if to put a finer point on your words, you nestled the head of his cock inside the first inch of your body. Joel had to seize the laminate underneath you and grit his teeth to keep from letting out a groan too loud. That tip may as well have been a first-rate conductor of heat, and your warmth the thing that might send him spilling again
âYou donâtââ Joel choked out, nearly incensed, ââdonât know what the hell youâre sayinâ, baby. What that means.â
In truth, there wasnât a world Joel Miller could imagine where a girl like you could give more than a passing thought to getting knocked up by himâa man his age. What good would it do? You had your whole life laid out before you like a four-course dinner spread; there was no sense whatsoever in letting the meal go to waste on him.
He communicated as much by moving to pull out.
You met the effort with a push of your own, sinking down another inch or two on his shaft and smiling when you saw his eyes roll back in his head at the dizzying friction.
âI know more than enough, old manââ Grin stretching ear-to-ear as you dug your heels in his ass and tugged him deeper, ââwho do you think taught me all this?â
Of course, it had been Joel.
Always, always himâthe only one, in fact.
Your walls drew him in like a hug. For once, Joel conjured up the strength to take a look between your lower half and his, and when he did, the next moan was inevitable. It trickled through his lips. Your body looked sublime swallowing a third of his cock, and it was almost as though a maggot had crawled into his brain, chanting:
âMake her full. Make her yours. Tell any man whoâd even think of looking her way she belongs to someone else.â
He couldnât.
Joel would never be so selfish. Just think of her youth.
But when his gaze drifted back to yours, every thought and any word besides seemed gently to melt away. Beneath him, your eyes were two pools of desire.
âYou like thisâŚdonât you, Joel?â Your voice was tiny.
âI do.â
In fact, he loved it.
âThen why canât we?â Why shouldnât we?
Minuscule now, the words that reached him barely exceeded a whisper. It was as though the moment itself had drained all fear from your faceâand out of Joel, all common sense from his brainâleaving you both to stare at the other with shared, stupid, anoetic looks of bliss. The man who had you beat by thirty-odd years seemed nearly of the same mind, with almost identical ignorance.
Idiocy.
âJust once?â Joel croaked.
Somewhere underneath, unseen, you smiled.
âJust one?â you murmured back.
He sank in another inch. When your walls contracted around him, Joelâs hands found your hips by force of habit and pushed your back against the glass behind it. The mirror was cool, and inside you, Joel was throbbing.
âOnce,â he repeated, not thinking too deeply.
âOne,â you said, with a world of more purpose.
Joel relinquished the last three inches, and with it, all of his resolve. The handsome, scarred, and plainly greying features all twisted as one, and the expression that you knew too well to mean that the man was feeling good took on the slightest hint of guilt. He gripped you tighter.
âOne?â Joel panted. Confused.
He pulled out halfway just to find his home again. Your pearly slick mixed together with his spend, and both coated over Joelâs shaft in a pretty, generous sheen.
âOne more of you, I mean.â You sounded too sweet. There was no way in hell youâd actually meant it.
Joelâs cheeks flushed again, but he didnât stop, either.
âBabyâŚâ he trailed off instead. He pushed in, pulled out, felt your tender little hole make an âoâ around his shaft, and then he kissed the edge of your left cheekâmaybe to rein in the need in his words before he spoke again: âOneâa me takes and Iâm givinâ ya fifteen more, yâhear?â
The smile he received told him as much as he needed to hear. He probably wouldnât have believed it even if youâd said the words yourself. Joelâs thrusts sped up, and as the pleasure distended in the pit of his stomach with the friction and the feel, his words flowed a little more freely.
In disbelief, âWanna be a mama that bad for me, huh?â
Your grin grew bigger. You nodded your head.
âMake your old man a daddy, is that it?â
Exactly. Senseless as it was, your look said it all.
To have slipped between the grooves and ridges of Joelâs brain and caught wind of even a fraction of the things he wanted to do to you then, a smarter girl would have run. Would have shoved him back out as swiftly as sheâd let him in and told him no, thatâs gross, and gone home. And, had the grey matter floating inside your own skull not been so completely dominated by primal need and wanting, thatâs likely what you would have done, too. Instead, with a head full of lewd, youthful stupidity, you seized the black-grey curls dangling at the nape of his neck and drew him closer. You spread your legs wider.
âThat is what youâve wanted this whole time, right?â
Under his scruff, a muscle tensed as Joel bit down.
Thatâs all heâs ever wanted.
Let the neighbors talk.
Let them say what they wanted to sayâit was probably all true to the point they were trying to make, anyway. That Joel was a pervert, of course. That you were naĂŻve, also true. That you would look too good not to stare in a white cotton frock with a bump underneath, absolutely. These were the ideas permeating your brain and his while Joel took a firmer hold of your sides and brought his nose to rest against yours. With every stab of his hips, he pressed kisses to your soft, parted lips, speaking low:
âThat what you want, too, darlinâ?â More serious now.
The head of his cock nicked a sensitive ridge inside you, eliciting a whimper, but you nodded. You nodded again, feeling the brush of his stubble at your mouth and your chin, and nodded again when he bottomed out, stuffing you tight. It felt a little more momentous than any other time in the past, now that you were picturing a fullness that wasnât just him. Him and you: a concrete being to soothe the sting of his absence long after Joel withdrew.
Something to stick.
âPlease say it, baby.â
Someone to call yours.
âI want it,â you said, sounding desperate.
A coil was just starting to form in the place you felt him. Drifting up, pulling tight, making your eyes go glossy and wide while they stuck to Joelâs and begged him for more.
âWant what?â He sped up, and his thrusts got sloppy.
âWant you,â you breathed, âInside me, Joel, please.â
As if predicting your next thoughts, the man lowered his hand to your belly. You hadnât even noticed the smallest bulge had taken shape beneath the skin. Joel slowed, momentarily, then rubbed the base of his palm against the mound where your body was obliged to make room for his cock inside you. He drew soft, tender circles there and, with the motion, sent stars flying before your eyes.
âGood girl,â he murmured, âRight here?â
âRiâ right there. Right there.â
Joel adored that sound. The soft, elated look, the gentle knoll of flesh in a bump below his hand, the whimpers rolling off your tongue repeatedly, quicker and quicker the more the pleasure inside you continued to build. Joelâs release was coming soon, too. For the hundredth time that night, he silently wished he were a little younger; so he could fill you up once, twice, twenty more times until your insides were stuffed and painted white. As if reading his mind, as he had for you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.
âHope our baby has your eyes,â you murmured to him.
It shouldnât have had such a strong effectâbut of course, it did. Joel pictured the small, sweet infant with irises that shone a bit like his, and his stomach caved in.
Tonight, tomorrow, or ten months down the line, he was getting you pregnant. Heâd clear his whole schedule for it
âThat right?â And now he couldnât stop the smile as he spoke, leaning even further in, âWhat about their nose?â
He kissed the tip of yours.
âHope they get this.â
He kissed either one of your cheeks.
âThese too.â
You had to fight back a laugh while his scruff tickled skin. Two deep strokes away from the brink of release and he still somehow always stayed in tune with your needs.
The threat of your peak was perilously near. Joelâs spend and your slick, tender glaze made a chorus of sounds at each thrust, and the deeper he went, the bigger it swelled. Your smiles couldnât stay for much longer when the feeling inside you both was being amplified like that. Sensing this, Joel took hold of your face and slipped his touch to cup your chin. He made you tilt your head up to him, as if to ask again, âAre you sure?â and when you nodded, his lips twitched again. A fleeting hint of a grin, like he couldnât be more eager to finish now if he tried.
Holding your face, cock swollen and throbbing and desperate between your walls, he felt a familiar twitch.
There it is.
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If you ever feel up to it - a little short story from the scom universe about reader and Joel deciding to have a second baby or finding out they're pregnant for the second time would warm my cold dead heart <3
i am. so. sorry. for the word count on this i truly do not know what happened. but i had a lot of fun with it, so. hopefully y'all do, too. happy fathers day! x
jellybean ~4k words | series masterlist
warnings: pregnancy symptoms (feeling and being sick, horniness + sleepiness. aka me even when not pregnant), 99% just duckie vs her mom
Duckie spills the secret on a Friday.
The morning is lazy, slow. The breathing of the sea across a plain of beach. Your fingers sift through her hair like the breeze through sun-bleached pages. The way she and the sun tint the room peach.
Sarah sprawls out across the spot still warm on her dadâs side of the bed. Sheâs in a habit of waking up early to sneak through to your room, lift the bottom of the covers, and army crawl between your bodies.
Joelâs in a habit of stirring to the heat of her at his back, her tiny toes at his spine, and turning to scoop her in one arm. They sleep curled into one another, mouths catching flies.
This morning, though, sheâs up to something. She brought a secret.
Sheâs flat-out on her stomach, pens scratching at the paper. Thereâs the scent of cherry and lemon and green apple tangling in the air. Taut frown on her face, tongue poked with concentration. She looks just like her dad.
She pauses and looks up at you. âWhat color is this part?â she asks, dabbing at the blank hubcap.
âSilver,â you reply, fixing the cap back onto the grape pen before it stains your sheets.
She huffs. âI donât have silver, Mama.â
You tap on the page. âDaddyâs wing mirrors are black, but you did âem green. The colors donât matter, do they?â
But itâs seven a.m., and youâre sharing only the red jellybeans for something of a pre-breakfast snack (the four-year-oldâs idea), and youâre exhausted despite having slept the full night, and she keeps halting any time Joelâs humming quietens â just in case he spoils his birthday surprise.
She hunkers down with the lemon pen to nail the emblem of his truck, and you figure â color is just the least of it. Truthfully, to your kid â and so, to you, too â nothing has ever mattered more.
You cup her cheek and lift her gaze back to meet yours. âHow about I grab you a glitter pen today, just for the wheels?â
She grins. Little milk teeth, gappy and gummy. Peach fuzz cheeks, sweet as the rest of her, a perfect fit in the palm of your hand.
I love you I love you youâre my whole world I love you, you want to say.
Instead: âOnly if we tidy your room later. Deal?â
âDeal, Mama,â Sarah giggles, and her little ink-stained hands splay out across the page again.
She scribbles only a few more splotches of color before you both notice it.
The sudden silence.
The waterâs stopped running. The shower screen rattles as he pulls it back. Dripdripdrip from the showerhead straight down to the empty basin.
Sarah twists to watch Joelâs disembodied arm blindly grab for a towel folded on the sink. It whips off out of sight, and he calls through from the bathroom.
âDuckie? You still there?â
âGogogo,â you whisper, helping your daughter cover her dadâs drawing with blank sheets. âLeave the jellybeans, Duck, save yourself!â
She finds the entire thing hysterical. Swinging her masterpiece under one arm, two fistfuls of rainbow pens, springing from the mattress like it suddenly caught flame. She throws herself from the foot of the bed and dashes across the hall to her own room, candy scattering in her wake.
Joelâs head cranes around the doorframe. âWhereâd she go?â
You smile, shrugging. Chewing innocently on a jellybean. âThatâs funny. She was here a second ago.â
He pads over to the bed, towel slung loose around his hips. Smirks, when your hungry eyes descend his figure â the bearlike shape of him, all muscle and fur, toned where he needs it but soft where you want it.
He cages over you, dark hair dripping with the smell of citrus, skin sticky.
His lips are like velvet against yours. Tongue still singed with coffee. A low growl from his throat when you lean forward to lick into his mouth.
âSmell so goddamn good,â you murmur, dipping your head to bury into the crook of his neck.
His beard is fuzzier when itâs damp, natural masculine musk melded with the fresh soap and rich aftershave he uses. All honey and oatmeal, mixed with a woodsy scent â and fuck, itâs intoxicating. Moreso than usual â stronger and sexier.
You take his hands and lower them to your hips, letting his fingers knot around the baggy material of your â his T-shirt. Tugging on it, exposing the slip of delicate lace on your hips.
âDarlinâ,â Joel warns, âweâre late. We still gotta drop Duckie off â If she walks in ââ
You groan, huffing back into the mattress. The weight between your legs ripples over the horizon, pulses into weak nothing.
Joel fixes the shirt back down to your thighs just as the thunder of his daughterâs footsteps rumbles back into the room.
Tonight, he breathes, slicking some of the hair from his face.
You grin, taking his hand to pull yourself back up.
Sarah materializes in the doorway, a lingering half-girl. Smiling from behind the frame, twisting the ball of her foot into the floor.
âHi, Duck,â Joel says, still playing with your fingers.
âHi.â
âYou look guilty.â
Her grin widens. She totters into the room, launches herself onto the bed, and nuzzles into your side. She squirms when Joel digs his fingers into her waist.
The beats of her laughter drum against your ribs, the same way her fists used to when she lived inside you.
âAlright.â You cradle her, her little head tipping back to wake the rest of Austin up with her squeals of glee. âAre we ready for some actual food, now?â
Joel chuckles, reaching for his mug.
Sarah nods from your lap. Her eyes drift down to the print on your tee. âMama?â
âMhm?â
âDo they like jellybeans?â
You frown. âDoes who like jellybeans?â
Her finger prods lightly into your tummy. âThe baby.â
Joel chokes, splattering coffee into his fist. He slams the mug down, pounds his chest clear of liquid.
âThereâs no â Jesus, Joel,â you swipe mocha flecks from the sheets, âTold Sarah to be careful with her pens and then you spray coffee all over theâŚâ
Sarah rolls off, cackling. âSilly Daddy,â she hoots, leaping on the bedroom floor.
âHey,â you usher her over to the door, âWhy donât you go pick out what you wanna wear today? Iâll be right behind you. Quit tryna give your dad a heart attack, okay?â
âThe baby, Mama,â sheâs repeating, walking like a little convict. She turns over the threshold to her room like itâs a cell, her pink pajama uniform and guilty expression to go with it. Still laughing, swallowing the ticklish bursts when she notices youâre shaking your head.
âThere is no baby.â You kneel before her, repeating, âNo baby. Just you. How about your T-shirt with the butterflies?â
It seems to distract her enough. Thank Christ. She gasps, inspired, and twirls off to find the tee.
âFucking hell,â you sigh, pushing back to your feet.
Joelâs flapping the sheets when you slip back into your room, still clearing his throat. Half-dressed: a white T-shirt over his broad chest and a pair of black boxers. Soaked hair clinging to the back of his neck and drying in flicks across his forehead.
Jesus, you want to pull him back over you and let him have his way.
You close the door over and spin, hands on your hips. âWhat the hell is wrong with you?â
âMe?â he croaks. âDid you hear what she just said?â
âYouâve known this kid for four years, Joel, you really canât tell when sheâs fucking with you? Sheâs my kid, keep up.â
âJust seemed an awfully ââ he thumps his chest again, ââ awfully specific thing to say.â
âSheâs in a phase I think,â you reply, catching the pillow he tosses across. âSheâs telling stories. Last week, her pre-K teacher congratulated me our supposed wedding. Asked to see pictures of the Mickey Mouse officiant.â
âJesus,â he grumbles. âShe really bought that?â
You mimic the breezy voice: âSarah was very convincing.â
Joel scoffs. âI donât know if I can take a lying phase and a copying phase at the same time. Every goddamn word I say, sheâs gotta repeat it.â
âShe idolizes you,â you straighten the sheets, âI think itâs endearing.â
âHm. Just wait until itâs you.â
He wanders around the bed, pulls your back against his chest. His arms cross over your tummy, lips pressing into your shoulder where his shirt has slipped.
âHow much harder would two be?â he mumbles into the bare skin.
âTwo Sarahs?â You scoff.
Joel laughs. âYeah, youâre right. I forget she runs on chaos and jellybeans.â
âYup,â you turn in his arms, linking yours behind his neck, âAnd there ainât no point in talking about it anyways, because I am not fucking pregnant.â
He rolls his forehead against yours, stealing bristly kisses. âOkay.â
âIâm not, Joel.â
âI believe you, baby.â
Sarahâs bedtime is a liberal eight, eight thirty on weekends. She likes to sit up, lodged between you and Joel on the couch, and help pick the movie you two will watch once sheâs in bed.
Once â and only once â Joel tried to fool her by pretending to play her choice, then switching as soon as she went down.
The kid quizzed him on the movie the next morning. He failed. Sheâs never forgotten.
Tonight, though, Joelâs out. Some game that you know and care too little about sports to learn the name or importance of. Heâs with some buddies at the local bar, probably nursing his second beer in as many hours, and counting down the minutes until he can come home to his girls.
Sarah snores soundly, slumped at your side as though butter wouldnât melt. The flicker from the TV across her face, the gentle mumbling of the voices onscreen. Her hands limp in her lap, fingers idling in a pink snack bowl.
You admire her, stealing a piece of her popcorn. Teeth grinding down when you remember dishing it for her earlier, hearing her curious voice ask whether or not the baby likes popcorn more than jellybeans.
Nope, you sang, tossing a handful in your mouth as you passed her the bowl. Imaginary babies donât eat popcorn.
She snorted (which unnerved you, because what the fuck is this kid finding so funny?), and followed you to the living room so close that you could feel her toes at your heels.
Some of the kids in her class have siblings. Some older, but mostly younger. Itâs the only fucking explanation, the only thing that explains this sudden interest in the real estate of your uterus.
Sheâs going through a phase, you tell yourself, suckling on popcorn. But then â how many fucking phases do kids go through? Which phases did you go through?
Barney & Friends. That was a fucking phase. Refusing to leave the house without the hoodie your mom bought you from the Museum of Natural History, even in the height of summer. Ketchup and broccoli, your boyfriend at seventeen, frisbeeing your neighborâs newspaper and aiming for his flowerpots.
Phase, phase, fucking phase.
Does she know something you donât?
âŚNo. You took a test just last week. Shut up. Stop letting the kid into your fucking head.
Joelâs keys jangle on the other side of the door, shunting into the lock with a sound which stills your brain.
You tilt your head over the back of the couch, your manâs beard tickling your nose as he kisses you. âEvening.â
âMissed you,â he whispers against your lips. He straightens and tugs the jacket from his shoulders. âShe not in bed yet?â
âShe fell asleep down here,â you reply. âI got too tired to carry her up.â
He caresses your forehead, big pillowy palm. âYou feelinâ okay?â
âItâs been a long day,â you grumble.
Joel smiles. He flops down onto the couch beside you, reaching over to stroke Sarahâs head.
You roll, solid as a rock, curling into his side. âShe keeps saying it, Joel. She keeps fucking saying it.â
His chest jumps, tectonic plates moving with a laugh. âYouâve met your match, honey. Produced a professional little shit.â
âOne of the other moms from her class is pregnant,â you mumble. âThatâs gotta be it, right? Thatâs where sheâs getting it from?â
âMaybe,â Joel muses. His fingers link with yours. âWhy donât you take a test anyways? Settle it in your mind?â
It startles you awake, even if only enough to prove the fucking point.
âNo, Joel!â you hiss, body jerking. âIf I take a test, and it turns out negative â which it will â she wins! My four-year-old fooled me. No,â you pluck spilled popcorn from your lap, pinging it back into the bowl, âI know this kid. I gave birth to this kid. She is not fucking winning.â
âAlright, baby,â he coos, âitâs okay. I wonât let the four-year-old fool you.â
You glower. âThanks, asshole.â
He chuckles. âSheâd make the best big sister, though. She would,â he insists, when you huff back against his chest. âSheâd love being the oldest. Get to be bossy, get to call the shots. Get to protect them, no matter what.â
Your voice feels so small, as inquisitive as your daughterâs when you blink up at him. âWere you protective over Tommy?â
âOh, yeah. I mean, he was annoying as all hell â and I told him so â but anyone else had anythinâ to say about him, and â well, they had me to deal with.â
âBig scary Joel Miller,â you whisper, yawning into his shirt. âI knew him once.â
âMhm,â he rumbles, âYou sure did.â
You look up again, blinking all doe-eyed and dreamy. Already half-asleep.
âHe never scared me,â you whisper.
Joel smiles.
âWell, you scared the hell outta him.â
Saturday morning, you wake to an empty bed. No snoring man, no scribbling girl. Just you â a starfish on the mattress. Bathing in waves of late-morning sun, sheets for coral, body as heavy as though you really are at the bottom of the ocean.
Her giggles carry all the way upstairs. Sarah. They surf into the room on a sunbeam, sounds like bubbles which shatter and sprinkle over your aching body.
You smile into Joelâs pillow, breathing in the smell of him, and peel your eyes open.
Itâs ten thirty. Definitely â you blink three times and rub at your eyes, just to make sure. Ten thirty, and somethingâs swirling behind your navel. Something that sharpens, sours, when you push yourself upright.
âOh, shit,â you rasp, and throw yourself across the room.
You barely make it, collapsing in a heap at the toilet. Your stomach empties in seconds; three heavy, painful gags and your head is in the bowl, choking on last nightâs dinner.
âMotherfucker,â you spit, gasping, âOh, Jesus.â
Youâre sick. Youâre just sick. Sarah probably caught something from pre-K, passed it on without even knowing. And, hey â you feel better, now that that happened.
Youâre just sick. Nothing else.
âMorninâ,â Joel calls, watching as you stagger into the kitchen.
Sarah mimics his drawl. âMorninâ, Mama.â
âHi, Duckie.â You crumple into the chair beside her, shoulders hunched. The smell of burnt toast and grape juice twists up your nose, and you suck in a slow breath.
Joel sweeps a hand over your forehead. He tips your jaw up to face him. âYou alright? Thought we heard running.â
Sarah rips a slice of toast in two. She stares at the fluffy insides, the jam dripping from the tear. The sight of it lifts the hairs on your skin, the gloopy mess splattering onto her plate.
âJust feel kindaâŚfunny,â you slur, turning away.
âFunny? Funny how?â
âFunny how?â your daughter parrots.
You shrug. Every word, every inhale makes you feel even more nauseous. âProbably just ate something.â
âHeard that one before,â Joel drones, and you throw him a flat look.
Sarah licks the jam from her fingers. She holds her tiny hands up to her dad, snorts when he pretends to bite at them.
âEat your breakfast, Duckie,â he says then â in his Dad voice. And in something softer, kinder: âCan I make you somethinâ?â
You swat the idea away, but itâs already churning in your stomach again. âJust gotta â get over whatever it â is.â
The table falls silent. Joel and Sarah stare blankly at one another. When you turn to look at your daughter, sheâs staring straight back. Smirking.
âStop looking at me like that,â you clip, wincing again at the dribbling jam.
âAlright,â Joel utters, âI think you oughta take a test now.â
âThat is not what this is,â you groan, petulantly pushing up from your chair.
He takes your hand, steadying you. âNo? I was thinking about it, baby, and I donât think weâve been safe enough to be so sure.â
You dump your golden toast in the trash and turn, crossing your arms. Your shoulders lift. âWeâre not being any less safe than we have been the last four years.â
âSafe,â Sarah says, and Joel holds a finger up.
âNo,â he tells her. âNo. Not that word. Go back to funny.â
She beams at him. âYouâre funny, Daddy.â
He sighs, pacing over. âLook,â he lowers his plate into the sink, âIâll take Duckie to the park. Let you rest up, give you a quiet house for the morning. But darlinâ, if youâre not better by tonight, youâre takinâ a test.â
You grimace. âBut she ââ
âI know ââ he grits his teeth, ââ I know you donât want her to be right. But I want you to be okay, more ân I want to prove my child wrong. Like it or not, youâre taking a damn test.â
Your eyes flit across to the kid swinging her legs in her chair, the splotch of jam down her Peppa Pig T-shirt. Your greatest accomplishment and your biggest challenge, wrapped up into a hundred-centimeter, jellybean-fueled monster.
Her cheeks lift, jam-covered and smug.
âFunny,â Sarah says, nodding.
The afternoon strings the sun high in the sky.
Youâve been home alone for the better part of an hour, busying yourself by cleaning to take your mind off the nausea tugging at your esophagus. Making and remaking beds, folding laundry until your fingers cramp.
Sarahâs room has never been tidier. Joelâs workshop has never seen so little dust. And you have never been more determined to prove your four-year-old wrong.
Youâre lingering in the bathroom, the window gaping. Sucking in breath after breath of fresh air â which only serves to tickle the acid burning its way up your throat, entice it further.
Youâre emptying the cabinets, reorganizing them into some senseless order. Playing Tetris with boxes of Band-Aids, slotting in tubes of toothpaste. You blindly reach behind your hip for the next box â a nearly empty thing which rattles when you lift it, jitters as though nervous.
You glance down.
âFuck off,â you hiss, throwing it on the shelf beside some tampons.
It stares back at you, as blinding as the sun. The two display window examples, pregnant and not pregnant, like a wink peering out from the dull cabinet.
Your gums taste of bitter bile, rancid. Teeth furry and aching. Your entire body aches â though nothing quite so bad as the space below your ribs, still tender from all your retching.
Slowly, your hands slip down your front to cup your lower tummy. Rounder than before, suppler â bloated, even.
ââs from all the throwing up,â you tell nobody in particular. Maybe yourself. Thereâs a desperate edge to your voice, almost a plea.
But then â a plea to who? For what? There was nothing you loved more than carrying Sarah for nine months. Duck. Start saying duck. Baby Duck.
You were never on your own. She was right there. Someone to talk to, someone to complain to. Someone to weep to, in the quietest lulls of night.
Her language came to you as easily as your own. All her kicks and punches, her fucking acrobatics while you tried to sleep. It was love, in its most chaotic form.
And you loved her, the very moment you saw those two lines. The very moment you realized sheâd been in there the whole time.
You realize now, squatted on your bathroom floor, that it feels the exact same. A warmth, radiating from your very core, if only youâd pay it enough attention to feel it.
Like thereâs someone there. Right there.
âIf youâre fucking with me,â you warn your stomach, reaching for the single test, âI will lose my shit.â
Love, in its most chaotic form bursts through your bedroom door no less than half an hour later.
âHi, Mama!â Sarah sings, tearing through the room with her hands behind her back. Her knees bump against the side of your bed, the air about her summer-warm and pollen-sweet.
âHi, little Duck,â you mumble, voice swollen. You wipe sleep from your eyes, asking, âHow was the park?â
She answers with a wide grin on her face, whipping out a small, shabby bunch of flowers. Dandelions and daisies tangled around one another, loose petals scattering over your bedsheets.
âOh, baby,â you push yourself up, ignoring the sickly weight in your stomach, âAre these for me?â
She nods. She dusts her hands free of grass when you take the bouquet. And then, as you smell them and hum with delight, she turns.
First, over to the dresser. She stares at her reflection, pokes at some of the makeup on the table. Then over to the window â where her breath fogs the glass. You hear the whack of Joelâs tailgate closing, and she tracks him into the house, before examining the windowsill.
You watch nervously as she drifts back over to the bed, a curious hop to her movements. Inspecting, like she knows thereâs something waiting to be found. Someone.
âDid you have fun with Daddy?â you ask.
âYep,â her small voice says, distant and distracted. She disappears into the dim bathroom.
You slump back down on the mattress, dropping the flowers in a clump on your bedside table. âI donât even know when I fell asleep, baby girl,â you say through a yawn.
Sarah doesnât reply.
âDuckie?â
âWhatâs this?â
You lift your head. âWhatâs whâŚOh, n-no, Duckie, wait ââ
She flees past you, one fist raised and wielding the pregnancy test.
âSarah! Jesus, fuck ââ
Youâre chasing after her before you have a chance to consider it â nausea be damned. Sheâs squealing something, roaring with laughter, blitzing out into the hallway. She swivels, ladders down the stairs backwards, leaps straight into the arms of â
âChrist, Sarah ââ
Joel stumbles backwards with the force she throws at him. Sheâs safe in his arms by the time you reach the top of the stairs, waving the stupid stick around his head like itâs a magic wand.
âDaddy!â Sarah cries.
He glances up to you: hunched over the top step, panting, clutching your stomach. He pinches the test from her grasp. âWhat do we got here, baby duck?â
She kicks her feet. She has no fucking idea what they have, but she knows you didnât want her near it â and if you know your kid, you know thatâs all the catalyst she needed to fucking take it.
You slowly make your way down towards them, smirk growing the nearer you draw.
Joel glances down to the test. The creases by his eyes deepen. He hugs Sarah closer.
âTwo...two means...pregnant, right?â he asks.
You sigh, nodding. âMhm.â
His head lifts.
He breaks, the second he sees your expression. Eyes glassy, tears spilling onto your cheeks. The same smile you wore that June morning: sleep-deprived and shellshocked, a love pumping through your veins so strong that you thought you might burst with it.
Joel reaches for your hand, reels you in against his body.
âShit,â he laughs, holding the test up.
Your shaking hands take it from him â though you already knew what it says. You were dreaming of it all when Sarah broke into your room.
Dreaming of linked hands and echoed giggles; of bunkbeds and matching surnames, of all four seats in the truck filled and all four chambers of your heart spoken for.
Dreaming of one on each hip, one in each hand. Dreaming of them tag teaming Joel, of the word kids slung with his southern twang. My kids, the kids, our kids. All ours.
Dreaming of two Sarahs, goddamn it. Because nothing ever completed your life as effortlessly as one Sarah, and â hell, she was born to follow in her dadâs footsteps and become the elder Miller sibling.
âShit,â you agree, turning to sob into Joelâs chest.
âDuckie,â Joel says, voice hoarse and choked by tears, âYouâre gonna be a big sister.â
She giggles, tracing the damp lines down your cheeks. As she reaches your jaw, the elation on her face slowly dwindles into something of a frown.
Your lips part to repeat it â a big sister, Duck â when her tiny voice steals the air from your lungs.
âShit!â
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drew jerking off for giggly, drunk!reader <3
you stumbled through the door of your shared apartment, giggling at nothing in particular. drew was right behind you, guiding your messy walking by your hips.
âokayyy princess, weâre homeâ he smiled, kissing into your neck. you moaned at the feeling, a flood of goosebumps washing over you. you turned around, wrapping your arms around your neck before kissing him sloppily. he moaned into your mouth, your sweet, soft lips sending him to heaven. you stumbled back after letting him go, your shaky hands traveling to undo his belt.
âuh- you know better than that babyâ he stopped you. drew wouldnât fuck you when you were drunk, no matter how much you begged him. âmaybe in the morning..â he soothed, kissing your forehead. you pouted at his words before pulled you by your arm to the shower.
after lathering and kissing your entire body under the steamy water, he got you two dressed before collapsing on the bed. you were still aching to touch him. as he laid in the bed, you rested your face on his chest, his heartbeat calming you down.
âalright babyâŚâ he exhaled, which indicated that he was gonna shut the lamp off and fall asleep.
âdrew⌠wanna make you feel good.â you whined, stopping his movements. you still ached to see him writhe in pleasure. you needed to hear all his soft whimpers and moans as he whined for you.
âfat chance sweet girlâ he cooâed.
an idea quickly popped in your mind.
âwell, can you do it in front of meâŚ?â you waited as he looked at you in confusion before scoffing.
âwhat- jerk off?â
you nodded needily, rubbing your thighs together.
âI wonât touch, I promiseâ you bit your lip, hoping heâd agree. drew inhaled deeply before nodding, making you squeal in excitement.
you gleamed with ecstasy, undoing his belt for him. drewâs fingers traced your skin as you slid the leather from the loops, working on his button and zipper. you pulled his pants and boxers down and off his long legs, before snuggled back into your position.
âwait-â you interjected just as drew began rubbing his limp cock. you leaned forward, letting a long line of your spit drizzle onto his length. drew held back a moan as his cock already began hardening from your action alone.
satisfied, you leaned back, giving drew a kiss before resting your head back on his chest. you threw your arm across his body as you drunk in the marvelous sight. his muscular hands worked around his slick cock, getting bigger and redder with each stroke. you bit your lip at the grotesque sound it made. drewâs moans filled the bedroom as he pleasured himself for you. all you could do was watch through drunken, lustful eyes, as he fisted his thick cock in a blurred pace. he uttered an âI love youâ before cumming in spurts of twitches. you smiled, smoothing your hands over his body as if to calm it down. his breath was heavy and his face exhausted when you kissed his cheek lovingly.
âthank you, babyâ you purred. he nodded, still recovering from his intense orgasm. you shifted your weight off him, maneuvering to his limp cock as he melted into the mattress. you moved to your knees to bend over, licking the warm, thick ropes of cum off his stomach. he groaned, biting his lip at the sight. god she's so. fucking. sexy. he thought to himself. after licking up the last drops, you sat back and kissed him, a sheer layer of his cum and your saliva mixing together deliciously.
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surprise!!
warnings: smut, cussing, unprotected sex
words: 1.3k
drew starkey x actress reader
Drew stepped into the apartment, juggling a couple of grocery bags as he kicked the door shut behind him. My heart pounded in my chest as I stayed hidden just around the corner, watching him. He looked tired but focused, likely thinking about the premiere of âQueerâ coming up next week. My excitement grew, knowing he had no idea I was here.
As he set the bags on the counter, a small smile tugged at my lips. Iâd been waiting months for thisâplanning everything down to the last detail to surprise him. Drew thought I wouldnât be back for another month because of filming, but Iâd lied. I had only been gone for three months, not four. All this time, I was dying to tell him that Iâd be home in time for his big moment, but I wanted it to be perfect.
The moment he turned around and spotted me, I saw his face freeze in shock. His eyes went wide, his lips parting as if he couldnât believe I was real.
âBaby,â I said softly, my voice warm and full of affection. âi missed you.â
The grocery bags fell from his hands, apples and cans rolling across the floor. But Drew didnât seem to notice or care. He just stood there, staring at me for a heartbeat before rushing toward me in a blur of movement.
Before I knew it, his arms were around my waist, lifting me off the ground as he spun me around. The sound of his laughter against my neck sent warmth through my body. He set me down,âWhat are you doing here?â he asked, his voice thick with emotion as his lips brushed against mine between words. âI thought you were filming for another month.â
I giggled, keeping close to him, letting my hands rest on his cheeks. âYeah, I lied,â I admitted, seeing the surprise still dancing in his eyes. âI wanted to surprise you. You didnât think Iâd leave you alone on your big day, did you?â
âWhat?â He blinked, trying to process my words, still visibly shocked.
I grinned. âIâm coming with you to Italy! Luca and your manager have known all along. I planned it out with them. I couldnât miss it, not for anything.â
For a moment, Drew stood there, speechless, his hands gently cupping my face as he pressed his forehead against mine. His gaze was filled with love and disbelief. âYouâŚyou did all this?â
âMmhmm,â I hummed, my fingers lightly tracing his jawline. âEveryone knew except you. I wanted it to be a surprise. I wasnât going to let you walk that red carpet without me.â
He let out a soft laugh, one that sounded full of relief and amazement. âI was already telling everyone you werenât going to make it,â he whispered, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. âI was so bummed about it.â
I chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. âWell, you can stop telling people now.â
Before I could pull away, Drew kissed me again, deeper this time, his hands pulling me closer as if he couldnât get enough. The feeling of his lips against mine was intoxicating, and I melted into him, my arms wrapping around his neck. His warmth surrounded me, filling the void that had been left during the time we spent apart.
When we finally broke the kiss, Drew kept his forehead against mine, his hands gently running up and down my sides. âGod, I missed you. You donât even know,â he murmured softly, his voice filled with emotion.
âI missed you too,â I whispered, brushing my thumb along his cheek. âI hated being away for so long.â
He glanced around the room for a moment, his eyes soft as they took in our apartment. âAnd everythingâs already arranged? The flight, the hotelâŚall of it?â
I nodded with a smile. âyes baby all of itâ i replied. âperfectâ he muttered
â As we sank onto the couch, Drewâs hands roamed over my body with an urgency that spoke of the longing we had both felt. His touch was tender yet insistent, exploring every curve, every inch of skin that he had missed. I responded with a soft moan, leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hands as they slid under my shirt. as he started kneading my flesh âdrewâ i moaned
His lips traveled from my mouth to my neck, and each kiss elicited a shiver from me. My breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as his fingers traced a path up my back. I could feel the intensity of his desire in the way he pressed his body against mine, the heat and need palpable between us.
Our moans filled the space around us, mingling in a symphony of pleasure as Drewâs hands slid up to cup my face. He guided me into a deep, passionate kiss, our tongues dancing together as we lost ourselves in the sensation. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of us wrapped in each otherâs embrace.
I felt him shudder as he explored the sensitive areas of my skin, and I responded with soft, pleading sounds. His fingers found the curve of my waist, pulling me closer as our bodies pressed together. The intensity of our connection grew with each touch, each kiss, each whispered breath.
I started unbuckling his belt, trying to get his jeans off. He laughed at my actions âYouâre needy huh?â i grinned âshut up and take this off.â âanything for you baby.â he said while taking off his jeans, while i was undressing myself as well. He lined his cock at my entrance âAre you on the pill baby?â he asked âYeah, got on it a few days ago.â i answered. âGood girl.â he smiled while slowly sliding into my cunt. I moanedâ âShit, baby you feel so good.â he teased as he slowly started moving.
My hands gripping onto his biceps as he started going harder. âfuckâ drew faster!â i screamed. He groaned at my words, slapping into me while rubbing my clit. âYou like that baby, huh? You missed this dick?â he whispered in my ear. âYes!â i screamed once again. âThatâs what i thought, you gonna cum for me baby?â â i nodded, biting my lips while looking into his eyes. âFuckâshit keep looking at me like that baby. Look at how iâm fucking this pussyâ
I struggled keeping my eyes open. My mind fuzzy and head spinningâ âIâm gonna cum drew donât stop!â i screamed in pleasure. âCâmon baby cum for me.â he muttered while slapping my clit.
I screamed his name while i came, eyes rolling to the back of my head and my mouth falling wide open. Body numb while drew was still pushing into me making himself cum aswell. He pulled out, his seed dripping out of my pussy.
As Drew lay on top of you, your breaths mingling together, the room was filled with a serene silence. You gently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, smiling as he looked up at you with a soft, contented expression. "That was incredible," he murmured, his voice tender. You nodded, running your fingers lightly across his back. "It really was," you whispered back, feeling a warm, comforting closeness as you both simply enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the moment.
@rafedarling you wanted some drew fics!! more coming up
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đŻđĄđŹ đđđŠđ
pairing: rafe cameron x kook!reader
summary: youâre a strong, confident, and nobodyâs foolâcertainly not even rafe cameronâs. when you stumble upon a tape hidden in his room, containing something far more personal than he ever shared with you, itâs not about sofia or the past. itâs about the trust rafe shattered by not telling you. his refusal to be upfront about it breaks something between you, and when you confront him, it becomes clear heâll do anything to keep youâeven when you decide to walk away. but you arenât going to crumble or let him control you. you move on and live your life, but rafe doesnât know how to let go. in the end, the choice between holding onto your pride or the fire between you burns brighter than you imagined.
warning(s): toxic relationship dynamics, dark themes (possession, emotional manipulation), strong language, sexual content (18+), emotional intensity. MINOR DNI!
au: another angst again? really? i know but iâm a angsty bitch so yea. like, reblog, comment & feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @mileyraes @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy @enjoymyloves
You sat at the kitchen island in the Cameron household, staring at the coffee in front of you while Rose, Rafeâs stepmom, hummed softly to herself, clearly pleased with her latest floral arrangement. The normalcy of the moment clashed sharply with the unease gnawing at you, but you kept your emotions in check.
âRafeâs been a bit on edge lately, hasnât he?â Rose asked, glancing at you from over the top of her cup.
You kept your tone even, despite the knot of unease tightening in your chest. âHeâs always like that.â
She gave you a knowing look, the kind that said sheâd been through more than she let on. âSometimes, with people like Rafe, you have to draw a line. Push back when they push too hard.â
You nodded, your fingers curling around the cup in front of you, but you didnât respond. What could you say? That you knew Rafeâs darker edges better than anyone? That you understood how his secrets ran deeper than he let on, but you thought youâd seen enough of them to know where his limits were?
You excused yourself, leaving Rose in the kitchen as you headed upstairs to his room. It was familiar, the place youâd spent so much time together, but today it felt different. There was something off in the air. Rafe had been distant lately, but you hadnât pressed him, giving him space to brood, to work out whatever was on his mind.
But today, you couldnât shake the feeling that something was wrong.
You found yourself in front of his dresser, drawn to it without even thinking. One of the drawers was partially open, and inside, you saw a stack of VHS tapes. Most of them were innocuousâold football games, random recordings of parties, but one caught your eye.
âRafe & Sofia.â the label read, scrawled in Rafeâs unmistakable handwriting.
Your chest tightened at the sight of his exâs name, but it wasnât jealousy that gripped you. It was curiosity. What was he hiding? And why hadnât he told you about it?
Your fingers moved almost of their own accord, slipping the tape into the player. The screen flickered to life, showing a younger Rafe and Sofia, laughing and carefree on the beach. You could feel the tension knotting in your stomach, but you told yourself it was just a piece of his past. Until the video shiftedâsuddenly, jarringly intimate.
The camera cut to a bedroom, his bedroom. The footage was raw, unfiltered, and it wasnât just a casual memory anymore. It was a sextape.
You felt a sickening twist in your gut, your breath catching in your throat. Your heart pounded, not from the act itself, but from the betrayalâthe fact that Rafe had kept this, hidden this, and never thought to tell you.
The front door slammed downstairs, and you barely had time to process what youâd seen before Rafeâs footsteps echoed up the stairs.
He walked in, stopping cold when he saw the VHS player running and the tape on the screen. His jaw clenched, and the air between you crackled with tension. âWhat the hell are you doing?â
You stood up, holding the remote tightly in your hand, your voice sharp but controlled. âI found your tape. Rafe and Sofiaâs tape. Why didnât you tell me about this?â
His face darkened, and he took a step toward you, his posture rigid. âBecause itâs not something you needed to know about.â
âNot something I needed to know about?â You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. âRafe, you kept this. You hid this. Itâs not about Sofia. Itâs about you lying to me.â
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing as frustration bled into his tone. âI didnât lie. Itâs old, Y/N. Itâs from another time. It means nothing.â
âThen why keep it?â you fired back, your voice rising. âIf it means nothing, why hide it? You didnât trust me enough to tell me.â
Rafeâs eyes were hard, his jaw clenched as he spoke. âBecause I knew youâd make it into something itâs not. I didnât want thisâdidnât want to deal with this.â
Your anger flared, hot and consuming, but you didnât let it overpower you. âDid you think I wouldnât find out? Did you think I wouldnât care? Do you still watch it, Rafe? Do you still watch her?â
His face twisted, a mix of frustration and something darker. He didnât answer, and that silence cut deeper than any confession could have.
âDid you...â you took a steadying breath, your voice colder now. âDid you jerk your fucking self off to it?â
For a moment, he didnât respond. His eyes locked on yours, and the weight of the question hung heavy between you. Then, he took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous. âNo. But it doesnât matter what you believe. Youâre already making up your mind.â
You stared at him, the gravity of his words settling in your chest like a stone. âYou didnât think to tell me. Thatâs the problem, Rafe. Itâs not about jealousy. Itâs about trust, and you broke that.â
Rafeâs jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed with a mix of anger and desperation. âI didnât want to lose you. I didnât tell you because I was afraid youâd walk away.â
You met his gaze, your voice firm. âYou know what Rafe, maybe you shouldâve thought about that before keeping secrets.â
His hands curled into fists at his sides, and he looked away, breathing heavily. For a long moment, the room was thick with tension, the silence between you louder than words. Then, finally, you spoke again, your voice steady but final. âWeâre done, Rafe.â
He froze, his eyes snapping back to yours, dark and intense. âYouâre not serious.â
âI am.â Your tone was resolute. âI canât be with someone who doesnât trust me enough to tell the truth.â
Rafeâs expression hardened, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. âIâm not going to beg, Y/N. If you want to leave, then leave. But Iâm not going to keep you.â
You felt the weight of his words, sharp and cutting, but you didnât falter. âIâm not asking you to.â
Without another word, you turned and walked out of his room, your chest tight with the finality of it all. You passed Sarah in the hallway, her eyes wide with concern as you stormed past her, but you didnât stop. You didnât look back.
In the days that followed, you tried to push the pain away. You were strong, and you wouldnât let Rafe Cameron be the reason you fell apart. You threw yourself into your own life, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you broken. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldnât shake the feeling of his eyes on you, the lingering weight of his presence even when he wasnât around.
He didnât call, didnât text, but he was always there. Watching. Waiting.
One night, determined to prove to yourselfâand to himâthat you were moving on, you went out with a guy youâd been talking to. Ryan was charming, confident, and exactly the distraction you needed. He pulled you close on the dance floor, his hands resting on your hips, his breath warm against your ear as the music pulsed around you.
You knew Rafe was there before you saw him. You could feel his presence, the intensity of his gaze burning into you from across the room. When you finally met his eyes, you saw the fury there, the barely-contained rage simmering beneath the surface.
Ryan leaned down, whispering into your ear. âHeâs watching us. Want to make him mad?â
You smirked, leaning into the challenge. âLet him.â
But Rafe wasnât going to stand by and let it happen. He pushed through the crowd, his jaw clenched, his eyes locked on you with a dangerous intensity. When he reached you, he grabbed your arm, pulling you away from Ryan without a word.
âLet go of me,â you snapped, trying to pull free from his grip.
He didnât listen. His voice was low and deadly as he growled, âYouâre coming with me. Now.â
You jerked your arm out of his grasp, eyes blazing with defiance. âI told you weâre done, Rafe. You donât get to control me anymore.â
His jaw clenched, the anger swirling in his eyes making him look almost dangerous. But beneath the fury, you could see something elseâdesperation. He wasnât just angry; he was terrified of losing you. âIâm not letting you walk away from this,â he bit out, stepping closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over you.
You stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated. âYou already did, Rafe. You chose to keep things from me. Thatâs on you.â
Rafeâs eyes darkened, his breath heavy as he stepped closer until there was barely any space left between you. âYouâre really going to throw us away because of one mistakes?â
Your heart twisted painfully, but you didnât let him see it. âIt wasnât just one mistake. It was a choice. You chose to keep that part of your life hidden from me. If you canât be honest with me about something like that, then what else are you hiding?â
Rafe stared at you, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as the tension between you crackled in the air. He ran a hand through his hair, his voice raw as he said, âI didnât tell you because I knew youâd react like this. I knew it would hurt you, and I didnât want that.â
You crossed your arms, your voice cold. âYou hurt me more by keeping it from me. Donât you get that?â
His eyes flickered with frustration, and he took another step toward you, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. âI fucked up, okay? I know that. But I donât want to lose you.â
You clenched your fists, feeling your resolve wavering under the weight of his words. âRafe, I canât keep doing this. I canât keep pretending that everythingâs fine when itâs not.â
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sounds of the club seemed to fade away, leaving only the tense silence between you. Then, in a low, almost broken voice, Rafe whispered, âDo you really want to walk away from this? From us?â
You swallowed hard, your emotions a tangled mess. You wanted to stay strong, to walk away and never look back, but the connection between you was undeniable. You still cared about him, despite everything. But could you trust him again?
Rafeâs hand reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at the touch. âIâll do anything to fix this, Y/N. Anything. Just tell me what you want.â
Your eyes met his, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability in his gaze. He wasnât just angry or desperateâhe was scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of being alone.
âI want honesty,â you said quietly. âI want to know that I can trust you.â
Rafe nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. âYou can. Iâll prove it to you. I swear.â
For a long moment, you just stood there, the weight of his promise hanging between you. Then, finally, you let out a shaky breath and pulled back, stepping away from his touch. âI need time, Rafe.â
His face softened, and he nodded slowly, though you could see the tension still coiled in his body. âI understand. Iâll give you time. But Iâm not giving up on everything we had.â
You swallowed hard, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Without another word, you turned and walked out of the club, feeling his eyes on you the entire time.
Days passed, and despite everything, Rafe kept his word. He didnât press you, didnât bombard you with calls or texts. But you knew he was still there, watching, waiting for you to come to him.
The quiet between you felt strange, almost like a storm waiting to break. You found yourself thinking about him more than you wanted to, your mind drifting back to his words, his touch, the raw emotion in his eyes. You missed him, but you werenât ready to admit that just yet.
Then, one night, as you sat alone in your room, your phone buzzed with a text from him.
Rafe: Can we talk? Please.
You stared at the message for a long moment, your heart pounding. Part of you wanted to ignore it, to stay strong and keep your distance. But another part of youâthe part that still caredâwanted to see him, to hear him out.
Against your better judgment, you found yourself replying.
You: Come over.
Rafe showed up at your door within minutes, looking more disheveled than youâd ever seen him. His usual cocky confidence was gone, replaced by something raw and unguarded. He stood in front of you, his shoulders tense, his eyes searching yours.
âI didnât think youâd let me come,â he admitted, his voice quiet.
You crossed your arms, keeping your face neutral. âYou said you wanted to talk.â
Rafe nodded, running a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving yours. âI messed up, Y/N. I know that. I shouldâve told you about the tape. I shouldâve trusted you.â
You watched him carefully, your heart beating a little faster at the sincerity in his voice. âWhy didnât you?â
He hesitated, his jaw clenching before he finally answered. âBecause I was scared. Scared youâd think I wasnât over her. Scared youâd leave.â
You frowned, your anger flaring up again. âIâm not Sofia, Rafe. You shouldâve known Iâm not like that.â
He shook his head, his expression pained. âI know youâre not. Thatâs why I didnât want to lose you. But by not telling you, I did the exact thing I was so afraid of.â
You took a deep breath, your emotions swirling inside you. âI canât promise things will go back to the way they were but youâll have to earn my trust back.â
Rafe stepped closer, his eyes filled with determination. âIâll earn your trust back. I donât care how long it takes.â
You felt your resolve crumbling under the weight of his words, but you forced yourself to stay strong. âI canât do this alone, Rafe. You need to be better. For both of us.â
He nodded, his voice low but firm. âI will. I swear.â
For a long moment, the silence between you stretched on, thick with tension. Then, without thinking, you reached up and touched his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin.
Rafe exhaled sharply, his eyes closing as he leaned into your touch. âIâm sorry,â he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.
And in that moment, something inside you softened. Maybe it wasnât forgiveness yet, but it was a step in the right direction.
Without saying another word, you leaned up and kissed him. The kiss was slow, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened, the fire between you rekindling in an instant. Rafeâs hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you back with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.
You didnât pull away this time. You let yourself get lost in him, in the way his body pressed against yours, in the way his hands moved over you like he was afraid to let go. It was desperate and raw, but it was also real.
Rafeâs hands slipped under your shirt, his touch warm against your skin as his fingers trailed up your sides, igniting a spark that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. You gasped softly into his mouth, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as he pressed his body against yours, backing you up against the wall.
âY/NâŚâ he breathed against your lips, his voice low and rough, filled with desire.
You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as you whispered back, âIâm still mad at you.â
Rafeâs eyes darkened, his lips ghosting over your neck as he whispered, âI know.â
But in that moment, the anger between you faded, replaced by something elseâsomething neither of you could deny any longer. His lips found yours again, harder this time, more demanding, as he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist. You felt the heat between you growing, the connection too strong to ignore.
Rafe carried you to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate as he laid you down, hovering over you with that same intense look in his eyes. âLet me show you how sorry I am,â he whispered, his voice thick with need.
Your breath caught in your throat as his lips trailed down your neck, his hands sliding lower, gripping your thighs as he tugged at your clothes. You arched into his touch, your body responding to every move, every kiss, as he worshiped you with an intensity that left you breathless.
It wasnât just about the physical connection. It was about the emotions between youâthe trust that had been broken, the anger that still lingered, but also the undeniable love and passion that couldnât be ignored.
As Rafeâs body moved against yours, as his hands roamed over every inch of your skin, you felt the walls between you begin to crumble. The anger, the hurtâit was all still there, but so was the need. The desire. The love.
You gasped as he pressed deeper into you, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered your name, his voice raw and filled with emotion. âIâll make it right, Y/N. I swear.â
You didnât have the words to respond. Instead, you kissed him, pouring everything into that kissâthe frustration, the anger, the love, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.
That day just you and Rafe moved together in a rhythm that felt both familiar and new, you realized that maybeâjust maybeâmaybe it was a new beginning.
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Watch Your Mouth
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: Joel teaches you to keep quiet during sex.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Silence kink. Size kink. Breeding kink. Age gap. Joel is a lot more experienced (!) Finger sucking. Orgasm denial. Soft dom!Joel x10000.
Word count: 1.9k
Maybe a hand was too much.
A kiss to stifle your cries, a tongue between your lips to steal any trace of a whimper before it could ever leave. Joel knew by the way your wet, pliant hole stretched wider and wider for him with each thrust that youâd eventually quiet downâbut he needed silence now.
And heâd get it when he clamped his palm over your mouth. At first, your brows lifted with surprise, then pinched inward like you didnât understand, then twitched again, involuntarily, when the head of his cock cleared a path straight toward your cervix. You whimpered into his hand and made a point to dig your heels even deeper in his back. Joel had promised heâd be better about that.
ââMâsorry,â he mumbled.
Another stab. Another whimper, only louder this time.
âSorry, baby, Iâmââ Joel stopped to fight back a groan of his own, before pressing his palm down with even more force, ââsorry, jusâ need ya real quiet right now, okay?â
You tried to nod, but the weight and stricture of his grip were as heavy as lead against your face. Add to that the soft, sawing motions of his cock going in and out of your cunt and the nudge of his oversized tip at your cervix, and it was all you could do to just lay there and take it. Joel knew this was brand new to youâheâd been your first not too long ago and the only partner sinceâso he eased back and lifted his hand when you gave it a tug.
Grey stubble was already licking at the corners of your mouth with Joelâs minuscule kisses of reassurance when you giggled and squeezed him tighter between your legs:
âIâm tryinâ, Joel. Really, I am,â you whispered.
âI know, sweet pea,â he whispered back, âI know.â
He took the palm heâd used to stifle your moans and smoothed it over your cheek, coming to rest at one side so he could kiss you fully. Maybe a hand was too much.
Heâd inculcate restraint some other way, and if it didnât come easy, a few more fucks on the forest floor like this one would probably do the trick. Your mouth opened up for his tongue just like your cunt would open up for more of his cum and the rest of your body would surely follow suit, learning to control the noises of pleasure as needed.
âGood girl,â Joel murmured against your lips, feeling you clench around him and expel a breath rather than whine. He withdrew himself to the tip, then plunged back in, âSuch a good, perfect girl for me, ainât ya, sweetheart?â
At length, you yelped into his mouth. You couldnât help it. Rather than reprimand you with words or smother your lips with his palm, though, Joel kept fucking you gently.
ââSâokay, pretty girl, itâs okay. I know that feels good.â
His mouth was next to your ear now, praises audible to no one else but you. It added a whole new dimension to your pleasure; Joel could tell from the way your walls constricted around him and choked him, sucked him in. The feeling nearly elicited a groan from his chest, but of course, he had all the resolve of a seasoned professional. Decades and decades of practice had done that for him.
âJoel,â you mewled.
Your face was screwed up in a grimace, eyes likely to be brimming with tears any second now. Joel slowed his pace once more, felt a pang of guilt for how big he felt inside youâhow those decades and decades of practice set you drastically apart from each other in experienceâand this time, he didnât try to muffle your whines. He just stroked the top of your cheek with one thumb, and with the other, snaked a path between your body and his.
Admittedly, Joel was still learning about yours. He wasnât sure if the whimpers youâd made were born wholly of pleasure or just a sense of being stretched out and filled. Because you yourself were still learning to be vocal, Joel figured heâd give the latter a stab. He started thumbing your clit in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure.
It worked, and it didnât.
Your walls parted easily beneath the quiet ministrations of his thumb, opening yourself more to Joelâs thrusts, but they also tore a scream out of your throatâthe kind that was liable to stir the leaves on every tree and alert any clicker within a two-mile radius to your presence.
The kind of outcome Joel had been trying to prevent when heâd brought you on patrol with him in the first place. The kind of sound he was trying to fuck out of your body completely; teach you to keep quiet and still for when the two of you inevitably got bored during perimeter watch and rolled the sleeping bag out to fuck.
Joel tensed above you and cast a quick look around. Sure, heâd picked a decently safe spot, but then youâ
âJoel, Iââ
Without thinking, the man stopped and stuck the first thing he could possibly fit in your mouth: his thumb. Whatever youâd been trying to say to him was promptly lost in a hum against his knuckle, lips enveloping the thick, callused digit like some tangy-flavored lolly. Joelâs hips sank back into yours, slowly, and he felt the reverberations of another moan spill over his finger.
He swallowed and stared. That shouldnât have been nearly as sexy as youâd just made it seem, especially when your life and his hung in such a precarious position.
Joel dragged his cock back out and happened to graze a sensitive, spongy ridge inside you, which made you moan again. You hollowed your cheeks and gritted your teeth a bit more against his thumb, gripping Joelâs forearm for support as he continued to fuck you.
And, had you stayed like that a moment longer, you probably wouldâve seen a shiny string of drool start to pool and stretch and fall out from one side of his mouth. Instead, Joel switched hands and popped the thumb that had been toying with your clit into your mouth, eyes glazed over with desire as they drank in the sight of you sucking his thumb again. The tip was still soaked with your warmth and slipped easily past your parted lips.
Another sound bubbled up your throat when you got a tasteâJoel had always been in the habit of kissing you after eating you out, so you were well-acquainted with the flavor, but never had he fed you your own arousal on his finger. This felt obscene, something more than just pornographic as those deep, brown, lust-addled irises remained glued to where your lips closed around him.
âYâlike that, huh?â he said, voice reduced to a whisper once more while you nipped and suckled at the skin.
You bobbed your head to indicate yes, opened your mouth to tell him softly that you liked it so muchâloved the taste and grit of his finger on your tongue, in fact. You wanted to show him you could be vocal, too, when Joelâs frame rose over yours a little more and seemed to blanket it entirely. Like he wanted to shield you, in a way.
âShhhh, shhhâŚkeep suckinâ like that. Stay still, okay?â Joel murmured, and it didnât take a rocket scientist to work out that this was a test. He was nodding, rutting gently between your legs, wedging his thumb deeper inside the wet, velvety contours of your mouth and waiting for a look from you to say that you understood.
You werenât sure if you did, but you nodded anyway. Joelâs thumb made a wonderful sort of makeshift gag as he continued to thrust inside of you, his body somehow lowering to get even closer to yours. When heâd gotten sufficiently near, he pressed a kiss to the side of your mouthânow stuffed with his thumb and leaking spitâand muttered something about how good you were for him, how nicely you fit around his cock. Then he tilted his hips and proceeded to pound you into the ground like an animal in heat. The only thing separating your ass from the patch of grass underneath it was a flimsy little blanket, and the only thing tethering you to earth, it seemed, was Joelâs cock. Your ankles locked behind his back, and his nose settled next to yours, breathing hard.
Even if he knew how to suppress his moans, the panting and strangled gasps were far beyond Joelâs controlâas were the filthy, perverse words pouring out of his mouth.
ââSâall mine, ainât she, hon? Tell me this pussyâs mine.â
âTell me sheâs mine to fuck, stuff fullâa cum, right here.â
And he gestured to the spot where your body stopped and his began, squelching noises punctuating each new thrust. Neither one of you minded the sound right now, especially when you knew where this was headed next.
Joel was grinning against your skin before he kissed it.
âShe wants a baby, doesnât she, honey? Wants me to put a baby in her and make that belly swell up pretty?â
You knew just as well as Joel that neither of you wanted children in a world like thisâthoughts of breeding only occurred to you both when you were about to cum. Particularly when Joelâs thumb was slipping out of your mouth and his fingers were pinching either side of your face in a single grip, lips moving above yours. Making you meet his gaze as he squeezed your cheeks in a pout.
âYou want my babies, baby?â Joel mumbled.
You felt a familiar twitch in his cock. You nodded.
Joel pinched harder and shook his head, unsatisfied.
âSay, âI want your babies, Joel.ââ
âI want your babies, Joel.â
âSay, âIâll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me.ââ
âIâll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me, please, Joel.â
Your voice was already hoarse from how low you had to whisper, how hard Joelâs broad and hefty stomach was pressing into your own, stealing the breath from your lungs and wreaking havoc on your brain as you struggled for air and imagined a world where your tummy was a little rounder. Plugged up with his cum one day and growing bigger with his child there inside you the next. The thought was dizzying in the abstract, enticing to the slightest degree in reality, and if you had to guess from the expression of the man currently sweating, grunting, and rutting into your body, youâd bet he felt the same.
It really was a shame you had to stay so quiet.
But, whether a clicker was five miles away or standing directly over his shoulder, Joel didnât seem to care at all. Soft, silent reserve cast aside for the time being and hips slamming a bruising pace against your own, Joel seemed fine to let out sounds to show he was right about to cum. Grunts and whimpers were spilling left and right off his filthy, pretty tongue; his eyes were all but rolling back.
Truly, he couldnât look more magnificent if he tried.
âFuck, baby, Iâmâ Iâm so close. Gonna fill you up.â
Featherlight clusters of soft grey hair were now darkened with sweat. They rested comfortably across his forehead. Under them, two thick brows furrowed in concentration.
âGonna knock you up,â he added through gritted teeth.
That part was not a threat, but a promise.
You felt a tug and a pinch in your own stomach, signaling your oncoming release. You spread your legs wider for Joel, pressed a kiss to his jaw when he leaned in closer, made room for him to spill his load just how he wanted, and when it seemed he was a second from his peakâ
A twig snapped nearby.
Both of you froze in place.
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Controversially young girlfriend
post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: Joel finally finds his brother. He's not too happy to hear how he got on with his life without him. But his brother is also not happy to meet his new partner - you.
Or
Joel fucks you to comfort you.
Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 56), soft!dom!Joel, maybe little angst, unprotected PIV, fingering, daddy kink, DAUGHTER ISSUES (pls itâs important), protective!Joel, no!Ellie AU, pet names (baby girl, kitty, daddy)
Wordcount: 4,6k
An: Soft Joel is definitely one of my favorites. It's a pleasure to write him that way.
Music I worked with: Brooklyn Baby - Lana Del Rey
Masterlist
âWellâŚâ Tommy started, looking away. His hand intertwined with the woman's hand next to him. âMaria is family, actually.â
There was silence.
The atmosphere became so thick that you felt uncomfortable even though you weren't part of their conversation. Joel's gaze was fixed on the hands of the couple next to him as if he was cursing them in every way. You noticed out of the corner of your eye how his jaw was clenching dangerously so you decided to save the situation before it became even more awkward.
âCongrats,â you said with a nice smile and they responded in kind.
But they didn't wait for your words.
They waited for Joel's words, but he still remained dangerously silent.
You looked at him, placing your hand on his in a comforting gesture. His fingers immediately tightened around yours as if they were the only thing that could save him.
âJoel, say congrats,â you murmured with an encouraging smile. You watched carefully as he clenched his jaw tighter, fighting with himself. His eyes finally fell on his brother and his partner.
There was a long silence again.
âCongrats,â a low voice cut through the silence like a knife. You wanted to roll your eyes at the way his words sounded. As if he wished them to fall out on the ice. So in Joelâs style...
You were surprised that his attitude towards the whole situation changed in just a few seconds. A moment ago he was hugging his brother with tears in his eyes and now he was looking at him with contempt. There was no positive emotion in his behaviour but you decided that you would ask him about everything when you were alone.
You squeezed his hand tighter as he leaned back, getting more comfortable. And it wouldn't be something special if that damn old man wasn't trying to show in this way his dominance.
This time you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his childish behavior. Grown up man.
Tommy and Maria exchanged knowing glances before he tried to break the awkward atmosphere.
âSoâŚâ he started with a smile, looking from you to Joel. âAre you twoâŚâ he started, pointing his finger at you. You immediately understood what he was trying to ask and you opened your mouth to answer him, but Joel was faster.
"Yes," he said coldly. You glanced at him as he continued to stare deadly at his brother. Tommy smiled awkwardly and nodded.
"He's annoying sometimes, isn't he?" he asked teasingly, wanting to relax the atmosphere. You chuckled, deciding that at least you, out of the two of you, would show some level of manners.
âYeah, sometimes,â you nodded with a smile. Tommy quickly realized that he would rather talk to you than to his own brother. He smiled pleasantly at you, ignoring Joel's burning gaze.
"How did you meet?" he started, wanting to do a quick interview. And of course he wasn't doing it because you looked so damn young.
Too youngâŚ
You smiled wider, glancing out of the corner of your eye at Joel before you began to speak.
"Well... we happened to run into each other in the middle of nowhere," you said, feeling Joel start to gently stroke your hand with his thumb. A small gesture but it gave you a lot of comfort. âIt won't come as a surprise that the first time we met, we pointed guns at each other,â you laughed softly at the memory. It seemed so irrational now. "But somehow he managed to convince me not to put a bullet in his head."
Joel finally glanced at you, and if it weren't for the whole situation, he would have started teasing you about what you said.
âHe's been like my shadow ever since,â you finished saying and glanced at Joel, giving him a soft smile. His gaze immediately warmed. You were his weak spot and like a ray of sunshine, you warmed his broken soul. You were his cure.
Tommy noticed the way you were looking at each other and felt strangely uneasy. He hadn't seen Joel look at anyone like that since his daughter died. And he honestly didn't think it was a good thing.
"How old are you?" came the question from his mouth. Maria looked at him warningly, but it was too late. The words were spoken.
You looked at Tommy, smiling crookedly. You knew that your age was... a topic you preferred to avoid. Relationships with such an age difference were not perceived very well by other people.
âI-â you started hesitantly.
"Twenty-two," Joel replied, looking intently at his brother. You swallowed, feeling a lump in your stomach as you heard Joel's confident voice. You tightened your fingers on his hand, searching for the comfort he immediately provided you.
For him, there was only you.
You and your comfort were his priority.
Tommy laughed nervously, his eyes darting between the two of you. He straightened up slowly and glanced at his partner as if she was about to tell him that it was all really a joke.
But no one else laughed. Maria looked at him knowingly, Joel looked at him deadly and you looked down. Everyone was dead serious and then Tommy couldn't stand it. He looked at everyone, getting more serious by the second.
âAre you fucking serious?â he finally asked in disbelief. He snorted dryly, focusing his full attention on Joel. You cringed slightly at his aggressive tone. His reaction didn't bode well and you honestly didn't want to witness it. âJoel, what the fuck?â he growled, pointing his hand at you. âShe's twenty-two. She's a fucking child."
You blinked a few times, staring stubbornly at the discoloration on the table. Right now, anything was better than facing the situation that was happening.
But Joel was calm. At least that's what he appeared to be. He gently squeezed your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. And he didn't seem at all concerned about his brother's reaction.
"If Sarah were alive-"
"Donât," Joel interrupted him firmly. Tommy fell silent, knowing he had said a few too many words. But he wasn't thinking about that now. He was too upset about what his brother was doing. He snorted dryly, spreading his hands helplessly.
âWhat are you doing exactly?â he asked, raising his eyebrows. âYouâre playing family with her? Playing her daddy?â he continued with increasing disgust. âTreating your daughter issues?â he added with venom.
Tears appeared in your eyes. Was your relationship really that disgusting in the eyes of others?
"She is younger than her, Joel" he said a little more calmly, trying to make his brother realize that what he was doing was wrong. Your eyes met Maria's. There was no compassion in her for this situation, she looked at you with compassion as if you were unaware of the harm that was affecting you. As if you were⌠just a stupid kid.
You shuddered because of the negative emotions that filled the table. This didn't go unnoticed by Joel. He knew he had allowed Tommy's offensive comments to go on too long.
"She's happy with me," he finally said, his voice a little hoarse. This time you shuddered because of him. âYou don't have to worry about the rest. I'm not hurting her.â He straightened up slowly and squeezed your hand before letting you go. "We'll replenish our supplies and leave in the morning," he decided, moving away from the table. Tommy looked at him, not knowing what to say.
"Joel-"
"Thank you for the meal," he said politely to Maria and stood up. His contemptuous gaze was fixed on his brother as he extended his hand towards you.
âIt was nice to meet you,â you said, smiling politely at her and then without thinking, you took Joel's hand. In the blink of an eye, a jacket appeared on your shoulders as you stepped outside. Without a word, you tried to keep up with Joel as you passed the others people.
He was furious, you were sure of that. That's why you were afraid to even breathe for several minutes. The snow crunched under your shoes as you passed each street. You had access to the house at the very end of the town, so you had a short walk ahead of you.
Eventually, Joel slowed down a bit. His shoulders stopped tensing and the crease between his eyebrows disappeared slightly.
âNot so great orientation meeting,â you said jokingly. Joel raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you. And even though his emotions were swirling inside him, the sight of your sweet, innocent smile immediately brought him peace.
He sighed heavily, looking away. âYeah, not very successful,â he replied with a small smirk on his face.
You smiled wider when you saw his reaction. You loved that Joel was like this just with you. As if he couldn't feel negative emotions around you. He really couldnât. You were his cure for everything.
The rest of the way was spent in silence until you stood on the porch of the last house on the street and Joel opened the door for you.
âWoah,â you sighed, looking around the house. âA house suitable for living. Iâm in shockâ you marveled as you slowly explored each room and Joel watched your every move. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and quickly looked around the interior.
âYeah, not bad,â he nodded, making you look at him in shock.
âDude, it's awesome here,â you said, spreading your arms with a wide smile.
âLanguageâ admonished you.
âYeah, sorry,â you nodded and started exploring the house again.
You spent the entire evening washing away the dirt from several months. Only after the third time, the water was clear. You sat staring at the water as Joel washed your hair once again. You didn't ask him for it, but you never had to ask him for anything. If he could, he would start breathing for you. It may have amounted to obsession.
But who could stop him? More than one has tried to take you away from him. And they all ended their lives.
Who could blame him? If he had to, he would kill everyone in the world, everyone infected, just to keep you safe.
"Can I ask you something?" you spoke up, breaking the silence.
âAnything,â he replied, automatically washing the ends of your hair thoroughly.
âYou promise you won't be mad?â
âI can't be mad at you.â
And it was true. Even though you knew it, you still felt stressed. Joel wasâŚallergic to certain topics and you completely respected that. But after today, you couldn't and didn't want to stay silent.
âHow old would Sarah be now?â you asked quietly. His movements stopped for a few seconds, as did your heart. But Joel didn't let you live in uncertainty for long. He slowly started washing your hair again and sighed softly. You knew that this topic wasn't very pleasant for him, so you honestly spat in your face for needing to know the answer to a few questions.
"Thirty-two," he replied without much emotion.
You swallowed hard, realizing that Tommy was right. You were too fucking young for him.
His daughter would be ten years older than you.
His daughter.
And you were his⌠who? Girlfriend? Now that sounded pathetic.
You wrapped your arms around your knees tighter, resting your chin on them and remaining silent. You've never thought about it all this way.
Joel was always⌠good for you.
True, he had his weaknesses, but who didn't? His wounds didn't bother you. After all, you fell in love with him. With all his flaws.
"You're silent," he noted after a few minutes of silence.
This conversation was not in his favor, but he knew that there were reactions going on in your head that shouldn't be there. And he knew he had to make sure nothing stupid got into your head.
âWhat are you thinking about?â he asked, starting to slowly rinse the lather from your hair. The warm water ran down your back, making you shiver with pleasure.
âI just⌠think,â you shrugged. Joel sighed heavily and you knew very well what that meant.
"Baby-"
"Do you think Tommy's right?" you interrupted him before he could get going.
"About?" he asked, squeezing the excess water from your hair. You straightened up, looking at him over your shoulder. You were upset by everything you heard and he couldn't bear it. He couldn't stand that his own brother had put you in such a state. A state of doubt.
Joel moved closer to you, groaning softly as he knelt by the tub. You watched his tired face with those innocent eyes of yours.
âListen, baby girlâŚâ he started and touched your cheek gently. âI'm not going to lie to youâŚTommy's god damn right,â he nodded, and more emotions immediately appeared in your eyes.
Fear? Surprise? Uncertainty? Or maybe all at once.
Despite his words, he smiled at you, stroking your jaw tenderly. âI'm too damn old for you,â he laughed, following the movements of his fingers with his eyes. His worn hands against your silky skin.
Two contradictions.
âFuckâŚâ he sighed with a helpless smile and trailed his fingers down to your neck. âBaby, you are like a blooming flower. Young, beautiful, innocent," he said dreamily. "While I am a dried bush overgrown with weeds for a long time."
âYou are not,â you denied, frowning in sadness. Joel smiled fondly at your words and stroked your cheek with his thumb. You unconsciously hugged to his hand. A warm, rough hand that brought you a sense of security.
âSo what am I in your eyes?â he asked, looking at you with tenderness. You were so damn delicate that sometimes he was afraid he would break you.
âYou are like a big oak tree at the very top of the hill,â you said with a soft smile. A smile that was intended only for him. âYour crown provides shade and shelter in the summer,â you continued, looking closely at every detail on his face. "And in winter your branches scare away all those who didnât rest under you in summer."
His heart tightened in his chest as he listened to your words. In your eyes, Joel was a completely different person. In your eyes, he was good.
âYou would be a good poet,â he replied, shaking his head with a smile. You watched as he slowly stood up, groaning at the slightest movement.
Good old oak.
âGet your ass out of it cause I want to wash up too,â he looked down at you with a smirk before walking out of the bathroom.
A few hours later you were lying in bed.
A soft bed.
A clean bed.
And yet you couldn't sleep.
You stared at the blank wall and thought about everything and nothing. Joel was long asleep. At least that's what you thought. You didn't know because you hadn't turned to face him since he laid down in bed. His calm breathing was the only thing you could focus on. No other sounds. You were... safe. This was rare.
So why did you feel so⌠bad?
Why his calm breathing didnât bring you comfort like it always did?
Why you felt like you were in the wrong place?
Why-
âYou've been silent for several hours,â Joel's hoarse voice brought you out of your thoughts. âIt wouldn't be weird if you were sleeping, but you are not,â he continued, and the mattress behind you sagged under his weight. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned in, nuzzling your ear. âSo are you finally going to tell me what this is about?â he whispered, sending shivers down your entire body. Your pulse immediately quickened at his proximity.
Then came a gentle kiss behind the ear.
And then on the neck.
And then his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer to his heated chest.
âI was sleeping,â you said quietly, hoping to avoid the conversation.
âLiar,â he whispered into your ear, his warm breath reverberating through your body in an inappropriate way. âCome on, baby girl,â he nuzzled you encouragingly. "Spit it out."
You lay there struggling with yourself for a while. You didn't want to talk about it now. You didn't want to talk about it at all. But something inside made you ask the question that was floating around in your head like a virus.
âIf you think Tommy is right, then why-â
âBecause I love you,â he interrupted you, knowing very well what your question would be. Even if he didn't know, there was one answer. âBecause I can't imagine being where I am now without you.â
You fell silent, letting his words permeate the space around you. You believed him. Always and in everything. You pursed your lips into a line, wondering for the first time if you were stupid enough to trust him blindly with everything.
For the first time you doubted him.
âThey looked at me like I was stupid for trusting you,â you whispered, huddling deeper under the blanket. Joel sighed softly and turned you towards him. You stared at his chest, not wanting to look at him. You were ridiculed just because you were young.
âHey, baby, look at me,â he said gently, running his fingers down your cheek to your chin to force you to look up.
You were sad.
He hated when you were sad.
His sunshine couldn't hide behind the clouds.
âYou're not stupid, you understand?â he started, looking at you seriously. You wanted to look away but he wouldn't let you. "Understand?" he repeated more firmly. You nodded weakly, but that was enough for him. âI'm the problem, not you,â he spoke softly, stroking your cheek gently. âI'm not a good person and they know it,â he smiled gently, wanting to reassure you. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I've done a lot of bad things you've never even heard of." He slowly traced your cheek until he finally removed his hand only to place it on your hip. âBut you⌠You are good.â He pressed his fingers lightly against your skin and then moved down to your thigh. âAnd someone as good as you shouldn't be with someone as bad as me,â he explained and slowly pulled your leg on top of him.
âBut-â
âYour age is just something they can pick on,â he answered your question before it left your mouth. You fell silent, feeling the warmth on your cheeks as his hand slowly began to stroke your thigh. âThey don't believe that someone like you is with me by choice and not by force,â he explained with a soft smile on his lips as his hand moved up, sneaking under your shirt to your waist. âThey explain everything using my trauma. And the fact is, maybe there is a fatherly instinct in me. But thanks to this, I can take care of you the way you need it.â His words crept into your head just as he wanted them to. You were fascinated by him. You looked at him again like you always did.
As if there was only him in the whole world.
That look healed another piece of his soul each time.
He couldn't lose you.
Even at the cost of his own brother.
âAnd the fact that you kissed me first was just an added bonus. I'm just a man and you knew exactly what to do to make me weak for you" he added with a smirk and you snorted under your breath. Your reaction was enough to make his heart beat faster. And the happiness in your eyes only ignited it.
He leaned towards you, nuzzling his nose against yours. You closed your eyes with a blissful smile.
âThey may think you're stupid for me, but the truth is, I'm stupid for you,â he whispered before gently pressing his lips to yours. The warmth of his lips and the roughness of his beard warmed your heart. He kissed you gently and slowly. He always did it slowly. Enjoying every second of the closeness you gave him. He didn't know how many moments like this he had left so he enjoyed everything you gave him.
The softness of your lips.
The gentleness of your hands.
The sweetness of your moans.
His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer until there was no space between you. Your hands came to his cheeks as he slowly deepened the kiss. Even in the kiss he could feel how delicate you were.
Joel was already too destroyed by life for his lips to taste like yours. But that's how you liked him. With heavy touch, rough beard, chapped lips and tired eyes. And all this with a pinch of love he had for you.
You moaned into his mouth as he pulled your hips closer to his. How could you not fall for him when he was perfect for you?
âLet me take care of you, baby girl,â he whispered against your lips and moved his hips gently, grinding against you. Your breath shuddered as he brushed against your pussy. Without thinking, you nodded.
âOkay,â your whisper disappeared into his mouth as he kissed you again. He ran his hand down your back to your ass until he disappeared between your thighs.
You moaned sweetly as he ran his fingers over your wet slit. He loved how wet you were for him. Always.
You made him feel like a man again.
You let him take care of you in every sense of the word. You trusted him. And this time he wasn't going to make the same mistake.
His fingers slowly dipped into your hole, triggering another moan that disappeared into his mouth. He slowly started fucking you with his fingers. Gently and with love. Takes his time with you.
You breathed heavily into his mouth, purring every now and then in contentment at his gentle touch. He experienced it with you, drinking everything from your lips.
âYou're always ready for me,â he purred contentedly and rubbed the bulge in his boxers against your clit. You whimpered softly. âSuch a good girl,â he nuzzled against yours and placed a kiss on the tips of your lips. You felt the muscles in your lower abdomen begin to tense with every movement of his finger.
And suddenly his fingers disappeared. You gasped, feeling the sudden emptiness. His hand disappeared between your bodies only to take out his ready cock. He ran his hand along his entire length a few times, placing another kiss on your cheek.
âDonât worry, daddy will take care of you,â he whispered, running his tip over your slit and then dipping into you a moment later. You gasped, closing your eyes and letting him wrap his arms around your waist.
He pulled you closer, impaling you with his cock. He shuddered as he buried himself inside you. You always welcomed him with warmth and wetness. You clenched around him at the feeling of being filled.
âShe's happy to see me,â he said happily, placing a trail of kisses along your jaw. He wrapped his arm tightly around your hips and slowly began to move inside you. His movements were negligible. He pulled out of you only a few inches only to come back in again. These lazy movements were beyond perfect. You felt him perfectly and constantly. Just like you should.
You moaned, tightening your leg around his hip to get even closer. To make it even deeper. His lips were on your neck, placing wet kisses inch by inch. And all you could do was melt in his embrace. Every lazy movement of his hips stimulated you non-stop. Your soft moans filled the room and his heart. He loved hearing you sing for him.
He kept thrusting into you, keeping the perfect pace. Zero breaks in stimulating your pussy. Lazy sex was definitely one of your favorites. The constant closeness you had then was something that made you forget for a moment that the world around you existed. His lips returned to yours, inviting you into a deep kiss. Perfectly coordinated from the very beginning. From the first moment your lips met.
âI love making love to you,â he whispered against your lips. All you could do in response was pull him in for a kiss again. The pleasure you felt between your legs, your heart and your soul made a single tear roll down your cheek.
Fuck, how could you ever give up on this man? The old oak tree under whose care you blossomed.
His fingers dug into your skin and his movements were more decisive. He continued to move lazily inside you, only to enter hard until the very end. You breathed heavily into his mouth, keeping your hands firmly on his cheeks. Your gasps and moans mixed together in perfect harmony.
âFuck, dad-â you trailed off as he thrust into you hard once again.
âYes, baby girl, come on my cock,â he gasped, feeling your slit becoming more and more reluctant to let him come out of you. This was the only time he started fighting with you.
He held your hips tightly, trying to keep the same pace even though you weren't making it easy for him.
âDon't fight it kitty,â he said with a smile. You laughed softly against his lips and started moving your hips to help him. Your movements made him look forward to fulfillment as well. You both moved your hips in sync, moaning into each other's mouths.
âDaddyâs gonna fill you up, okay?â he gasped, feeling his movements become sloppier than he would have liked.
âMhm,â you murmured, holding on to his neck like a lifeline. Joel began to moan louder and louder into your mouth, feeling his orgasm slowly approaching like a wave of fire. You sped up your hip movements, feeling him start to slow down. You had to catch up with him.
âOh, fuck⌠Fuck,â he groaned in pleasure as he came inside you. His orgasm was like a rag to a bull for you. You rolled your hips a few more times before you came, panting heavily. You shuddered, moving your hips one more time before you collapsed, looking up at him, satisfied.
He watched you in silence, and the sight of your face after your orgasm was definitely one of his favorites. He leaned towards you, stealing a gentle kiss. His thumb stroked your cheek as if you were made of porcelain. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you to his chest as he covered your bodies with the blanket. You snuggled into him, listening to his heartbeat as he stroked your hair gently.
"You know... you may be too old for me, but you're still doing pretty well," you admitted, and he laughed quietly.
"Yeah?" he asked, amused.
âYeah,â you nodded with a smile. Joel leaned down to press a kiss to your head in response to your teasing. You were perfect. And you were his.
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pairing: actor!rafe cameron x actress!reader
summary: after a few months of marriage, actors rafe and you decide to give your fans an intimate glimpse into your lives through a podcast. during the episode, you both share details about your relationship, clear up rumors, and reflect on how their lives have changed since getting married. as you and rafe casually chat about your future, subtle hints about starting a family emerge, creating anticipation about an exciting new chapter in your lives. your love, chemistry, and heartfelt moments shine through, making their bond unmistakable.
warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, sweet moments, hints of pregnancy(?), intimate and emotional conversation.
au: like, reblog, comment and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @stuffyownswrld @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy
The cameraâs red recording light blinked on, signaling the start of something you and Rafe had talked about for weeks. It was your first podcast togetherâan idea that had sprung up during a quiet evening at home, when both of you had been reflecting on how much your fans adored seeing you two together off-screen. You were both actors, co-stars in several hit films, but it was your real-life relationship that captivated audiences the most. Everyone wanted to know what married life was like for two of Hollywoodâs biggest stars.
âAlright, weâre live,â Rafe said, his voice warm and easy as he leaned back in his chair, one arm resting behind you. He always had this effortless charm, and being in front of the cameraâwhether for work or something personal like thisâseemed second nature to him.
You smiled at the camera, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. âHey, guys! Welcome to the first episode of In the Limelight with me and my amazing husband, Rafe.â You threw him a playful look, and he grinned in return.
âYep, weâre finally doing this,â Rafe added, his tone light and casual. âWeâve been talking about starting this podcast for a while now, and after a few months of marriageâand a ton of fan questionsâwe thought, why not let you all in on whatâs really going on with us?â
You both exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging the curiosity that had been swirling around your relationship since the moment your engagement was announced, followed by your wedding and now, of course, the inevitable rumors that always followed celebrity couples.
âSo,â you began, pulling out your phone where you had saved some of the fan-submitted questions. âLetâs jump right in. First question is a classic: âHowâs married life treating you two?ââ
Rafe chuckled, reaching over to take your hand. âIâll take this one,â he said, squeezing your fingers gently. âHonestly? Itâs been amazing. I mean, I know everyone says the first year is the hardest, but for us, itâs been pretty smooth. I think it helps that we were friends for so long before we got married.â
You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. âYeah, I think the fact that we already knew each other so well made the transition easier. We already knew what it was like to work together, to spend crazy hours on set, and to deal with the ups and downs of Hollywood life. But marriage⌠itâs brought a whole new level of closeness.â
Rafe smiled at you, that sweet, loving look that always made your heart skip a beat. âItâs the little things, you know?â he continued, his voice softening. âLike coming home after a long day of filming and just⌠being together. We donât need to do anything fancy. Itâs those quiet momentsâcooking dinner, binge-watching movies on the couchâthat make everything feel right.â
You laughed softly, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment. âYeah, weâve definitely embraced the whole âstay-at-homeâ vibe. Itâs funny because people probably think our lives are all red carpets and glamorous events, but the reality is⌠we love just being home.â
Rafe kissed the top of your head, his arm wrapping around you a bit tighter. âExactly. Itâs about finding peace in the chaos.â
You looked back at the camera, your smile widening. âSo, to answer that questionâmarried life has been pretty perfect so far.â
Rafe leaned in toward the mic, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret with the audience. âWell, except for the fact that Y/N snores.â
Your eyes widened in playful shock as you turned to him, smacking his arm lightly. âI do not snore!â
He laughed, raising his hands in defense. âOkay, maybe not âsnore,â but you definitely make these cute little noises when you sleep.â
âNice save,â you teased, rolling your eyes at him. But there was no denying the warmth that filled you when Rafe brought up these intimate, everyday moments. It reminded you of how special your bond truly was.
The questions kept coming in, most of them light and fun. You and Rafe shared stories about working on set together, how you navigated hectic filming schedules, and how you always made time for each other no matter how busy life got.
But then came the question that made both of you pause, even though youâd expected it.
âAlright, hereâs one weâve seen floating around a lot lately,â you said, glancing at Rafe before reading it aloud. ââThereâs been a lot of talk on social media lately about Y/N being pregnant. Can you guys confirm or deny?ââ
Rafe let out a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair. âAh, the baby question. We knew it was coming.â
You smiled softly, feeling the weight of the question settle between you. It wasnât a complete surpriseârumors had been swirling for weeks now, especially after a few public appearances where youâd been wearing looser outfits. It seemed like everyone was waiting for the announcement, but you and Rafe hadnât decided if you were ready to share that part of your lives just yet.
âFor now,â you began, choosing your words carefully, âweâre just enjoying being married and taking things one step at a time. ButâŚâ
Rafe interjected, his voice gentle but firm. âBut, yeah, weâve definitely talked about the future. And when the time is right, weâll be more than ready for that next chapter.â
You turned to him, catching the way his eyes softened when he talked about the future. It wasnât the first time youâd had this conversationâlate-night talks in bed, lying side by side, imagining what it would be like to have a family. It was something you both wanted deeply, and while you werenât officially sharing any news, you both knew it was only a matter of time before that dream became a reality.
The fans were sharpâtheyâd probably pick up on the subtle hints you were dropping. And honestly, you were okay with that. There was a certain excitement in knowing that your fans were part of this journey with you, even if they didnât know all the details yet.
Rafe glanced at you, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. âWeâve got some pretty big plans for the future,â he said, his voice taking on that playful, teasing tone again. âBut weâll let you guys know when the time comes.â
You laughed softly, leaning against his shoulder with a smile, savoring the moment. The warmth between you two was palpable, even through the screen, and you knew that your fans would feel it, too.
âYeah,â you added, âweâll keep you guys posted. But for now, weâre just really happy with where we are.â
Rafeâs hand never left yours, and the way he looked at you, with so much love and tenderness, made your heart flutter. There was no rushâyou both knew that when the time was right, everything would fall into place. For now, though, the peace and joy of simply being together were enough.
âAnd,â Rafe chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eye, âin the meantime, weâve got plenty of other exciting things going on to keep us busy.â
You gave him a playful nudge. âOh, you mean like actually doing the dishes? Because that would be pretty exciting.â
Rafe laughed, shaking his head. âOkay, fine, Iâll step up my dishwashing game. But I was talking more about the new projects weâre working on.â
You nodded, turning back to the camera. âRight! So, we do have some big news on the professional front. Rafe just signed on to do this incredible action film, and Iâm working on a drama thatâs been in the works for a while now.â
Rafe leaned in, clearly proud. âYeah, Y/Nâs got a lead role in a movie thatâs going to blow people away. Trust me, Iâve read the scriptâitâs phenomenal. Iâm already jealous of her co-star.â
You laughed at his fake pout, knowing exactly what he meant. âItâs just work, babe,â you teased, raising an eyebrow.
âI know, I know,â he said, his voice softening. âBut itâs hard not to be a little protective, you know? Iâm lucky enough to have you as my wife, so I canât help it.â
Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldnât resist leaning over to kiss his cheek. âYouâre the sweetest. But I promise, no one compares to you.â
He smiled, that signature Rafe grin that made your knees weak even after all this time. âIâm holding you to that.â
As the conversation flowed, you both eased into talking about your careers and the delicate balance of being in the same industry while maintaining a strong, healthy relationship.
âHonestly,â Rafe said, his voice thoughtful, âthe biggest challenge has been time. Weâre both so busy, and sometimes itâs hard to line up our schedules. But weâve learned to prioritize our time together. Like, when weâre both home, itâs our time. No work, no distractionsâjust us.â
You nodded in agreement. âYeah, thatâs been the key. Itâs easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of our careers, but at the end of the day, weâre each otherâs biggest supporters. We make it work because we want to.â
Rafeâs hand slid from yours to rest on your knee, a gesture that felt grounding, reassuring. âAnd weâve also learned how to compromise. Sometimes that means Iâm on set a little longer, and other times, sheâs off filming for weeks at a time. But we always find a way to make it work.â
You smiled, thinking about how true that was. There were days when the distance felt hardâespecially during long shoots in different countriesâbut no matter where you were, you always found time to talk, to check in, and to remind each other of what really mattered.
âThatâs another question we got a lot,â you said, glancing at your phone. âHow do we handle being apart for so long during filming?â
Rafe leaned forward, his eyes serious but soft. âItâs not easy, but it helps that we trust each other completely. I know that no matter where she is or what sheâs doing, weâre solid. And we make the most of the time we do have together.â
âExactly,â you added. âWe also try to visit each other on set whenever possible. Even if itâs just for a weekend, those little moments make a huge difference.â
Rafeâs expression turned playful again. âAnd FaceTime helps. A lot.â
You laughed, nodding in agreement. âDefinitely. Technology is a lifesaver.â
The two of you continued to chat about the nuances of your life togetherâhow you balanced fame with privacy, how you navigated the ups and downs of being in the public eye, and how, at the end of the day, your relationship was built on love, trust, and a shared sense of humor.
âSo,â Rafe said, glancing at the clock on the wall, âbefore we wrap up, we have time for one more question.â
You scanned through the remaining questions, your eyes landing on one that made your heart skip a beat. You could feel the weight of it as you read aloud, ââWhatâs next for the Camerons? Any big plans for the future?ââ
There was a beat of silence between you, a kind of unspoken understanding that hung in the air. You knew what the fans were really asking. They wanted to know about the next chapter in your livesâthe one that, while not confirmed, was slowly taking shape in your hearts and minds.
Rafe looked at you, his gaze soft and filled with something deeper, something that made you feel completely seen. He cleared his throat, his hand still resting on your knee. âWell⌠without giving too much away⌠weâve definitely been thinking about the future. And weâre really excited about whatâs coming next.â
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you as you nodded. âYeah, we have some big things planned. But weâre taking our time and making sure that when the momentâs right, weâre ready.â
Rafeâs eyes flickered with a knowing look, one that only you could interpret. âLetâs just say⌠the next chapter might be a little more family-oriented.â
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldnât help but smile wider. The hints were subtle, but you knew your fans would pick up on them. And maybe that was okay. You and Rafe were on the verge of something new, something exciting. And while you werenât ready to make any big announcements just yet, the thought of itâof starting a family togetherâwas something that filled you both with a sense of joy and anticipation.
As the podcast came to a close, you both thanked your fans for tuning in and promised there would be more episodes to come. Rafe leaned over to turn off the camera, and when the red light finally dimmed, he looked at you with that same loving expression he always had.
âYou ready for that next chapter?â he asked, his voice soft, but full of warmth.
You smiled, leaning into him, feeling completely at peace. âWith you? Always.â
Rafe kissed your forehead, his arms wrapping around you as you sat there in the quiet of your home studio. The future was bright, and whatever came next, you knew youâd face it togetherâhand in hand, just like always.
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Love at First Sight
A drabble from A Deeper Purpose/A Deeper Meaning universe, takes place between the two.
A/N: Dedicated to @brigcally - wishing you a flawless delivery â¤ď¸
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Joel helps you through your delivery.
Warnings: child birth, descriptions of pain/fear, anxiety, blood (only a little), language, fluff, allusion to prior smut but nothing explicit, breastfeeding
WC: 2.6K
It was a beautiful day.
The morning was crisp, the afternoon warm, but not stifling. For once, Joel didn't finish his patrol shift feeling like he had to bathe for an hour after to scrub off the layers of sweat and grime.
He was feeling good. His back didn't hurt so much that day and he was in a remarkable mood. It probably had something to do with the night before. The last trimester of your pregnancy had made you absolutely insatiable for him and he was more than happy to oblige. That even included nights like the previous night when you woke him up with your hand already snaked down his pants and your lips leaving feverish kisses all over his bare chest.
It was a shock he wasn't more tired.
But it turned out that was a bigger blessing than he originally thought because he was about to have one of the longest days of his life.
The moment he entered the gates and slid down from his horse, reins in hand as he began to lead his mare into the stable, Tommy came racing up to him from down the street with a frantic look in his eye.
Joel's heart plummeted and he dropped the reins, horse long forgotten.
"Is she okay?" he asked, pulling his gloves off and tossing them on the ground before breaking out into a sprint towards his house.
Tommy skid to a stop so he could change directions, jogging after him.
"Yeah, she's fine," Tommy called, causing Joel to slow down, but only just a little. "She's at the clinic, doc says she's in labor-"
"Tommy, what the fuck?" Joel yelled as he resumed his running.
"She's fine!" Tommy yelled after him with a dry laugh. "She's hours away from anythin', only a little dilated, slow the hell down!"
But of course, he didn't. You needed him.
He ran the entire way to the clinic, bursting through the door, gasping for air with his head swiveling this way and that, looking for any sign of you. One of the nurses looked up from her desk and stood.
"Joel, she's fine," she began to say calmly, but Joel just shook his head, chest heaving and shaky finger pointing to the back room.
"Where?"
The nurse led him to the room where you were laying in bed with a book, as if nothing were happening whatsoever.
"W-what's goin' on?" Joel stammered, looking around the room as if he were missing something. You looked up from your book and smiled.
"You're back early."
Joel huffed and shrugged his coat off. "Tommy said you're in labor. The hell's goin' on? Where's the doc?"
"I'm only three centimeters," you said, picking your book back up and flipping the page. "It's gonna be a while."
Joel just stood there, heart still thundering in his chest as he struggled to shift out of panic mode. He had expected to come into the room where you were screaming and crying in pain, scared and wondering where he was, but everything seemed perfectly... normal.
Slowly, he sunk down into the chair next to your bed and raked his fingers through his hair.
"Scared the shit outta me," he muttered. "Do you need anythin'?"
You shook your head, still focused on your book. "Nope. I'm all good."
He sat there, completely bewildered and desperate for something to do to help.
"Water?"
You held up the bottle you had tucked at your side and shook your head.
"Pillows?"
You grinned. "Three's plenty."
He couldn't just sit there. He had to make himself useful and burn off some of that nervous energy. So he began to pace around the room, squinting at the tiny printer next to your bed that tracked the baby's heart rate and your contractions, as if he understood what he was reading. Then he peered out into the hallway, looking for any sign from the medical staff.
"Where's the doc?" he asked again after about twenty fitful minutes. "Shouldn't he be checkin' on you? I'll go find him."
"Joel!" you exclaimed with a laugh. He turned around, expression so worried that it melted your heart on the spot. "Joel, come sit down. I don't need the doctor right now."
His fingers fidgeted at his side when he glanced between you and the open door as if he were deciding which way to go, then eventually caved and went back to your side.
"I gotta do somethin'," he explained, sitting back down and taking your outstretched hand.
"I think you did enough," you joked, pointing at your rounded belly. He gave you an obligatory laugh but his nerves wouldn't settle for the life of him. "We're going to be here for a long time. There's no use getting worked up about it, okay?" you said softly, thumb stroking his rough knuckles.
He glanced down at the floor for a moment, then took a deep breath before replying. "With Sarah, it happened so fast," he told you. You remained perfectly quiet while he spoke. He didn't like to talk about Sarah much and you never pressured him, but whenever he brought her up, you always hung on his every word. "Her mom - her water broke in the middle of the night and by mornin', I was holdin' Sarah in my arms. I guess I just thought..." he trailed off and sniffed a bit, gaze still pinned to the floor.
"Everyone's experience is different," you told him gently when it became apparent he was done talking. "Sometimes it happens fast, sometimes it takes days."
"Days?" he repeated, looking up at you with surprise.
"Yeah, let's hope that's not going to happen to me because you'll really have your work cut out for you, Miller."
He laughed, and that time you could tell it was his real laugh. He was finally beginning to relax.
"How are you so calm 'bout this, darlin'?" he asked, sitting back in his chair to look at you with admiration in his eyes.
"Because I'm so happy, Joel," you told him simply with a little shrug. "And I know no matter what, as long as I have you and our baby, it'll all work out."
His eyes grew misty and he quickly slid his gaze elsewhere, but you caught it and smiled.
"Well," he finally said, clearing his throat. "You need anythin' at all, you just gotta ask, alright?"
You nodded, pleased that he was finally settling down, then went to pick up your book. When you reached forward, you hissed and grabbed your stomach, a sudden searing pain ripping across your lower belly and spreading down your spine.
"Fuck!" you seethed. Joel was on his feet in an instant.
"What is it?"
"Contraction," you gritted out, grabbing onto his hand to hold on to something while you rode out the pain. Joel's face instantly filled with worry again.
"Lemme get the doc, maybe he can give you somethin'."
"No!" you shouted, then took a deep, shuddering breath before relaxing back into your pillows. "No," you whispered as your grip on his hand loosened. "Oh, wow," you breathed, exhaling slowly as the pain faded away. "That was a lot more intense than the other ones."
"Alright, there's stuff the doc can give you -"
"What do you think he's got, Joel?" you asked him. "It's the end of the damn world, there's no pain management he can give me that won't hurt the baby."
Joel propped his hands on his hips and shifted his weight anxiously as he tried to think of a solution.
"What 'bout a hot water bottle?"
You considered it for a moment before nodding.
"I'll ask the doctor if I can use it on my stomach but at the very least it'll help my goddamn tailbone."
Joel clapped his hands together once and quickly ran out of the room, thrilled to finally have something he could do to help. He was gone fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. When he stepped back into your room, rubber water bottle sloshing under his arm, you were in the midst of another contraction, and this time the doctor was at your side studying the monitor next to your bed while you cried and writhed around in pain.
"Shit! Baby, I'm sorry," Joel said, rushing to your side to grab your hand. You held onto him like a lifeline, forehead and neck slick with sweat and cheeks stained with tears as you tried to fight through the worst part of the contraction.
Joel had had enough of seeing you in pain.
"Can't you do somethin'?" he barked at the doctor, an elderly man who, to his credit, was rather unshakable. He just sighed and peered at Joel over his glasses.
"Only thing that'll help is gettin' that baby out," he said gruffly. When your contraction finally subsided and your muscles relaxed into the mattress, your sheets already looking soaked with sweat, the doctor tapped your knees and kneeled at the foot of the bed. Joel watched, slightly horrified, as the man shoved two gloved fingers inside you. Your jaw clenched and your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to breathe through it, but Joel could tell you were in more pain than you were letting on.
"Comin' along nicely," he remarked when he finally removed his fingers. He snapped the gloves off and tossed them into the ever growing pile of garbage in the basket next to the door. "You might just have a baby before end of the day. You're at six centimeters."
"Six!?" Joel exclaimed. "An hour ago you were three!"
"And she might stay at six for hours til there's any more movement," the doctor said. When he saw the look on your face at the thought of being in that much pain for that long, he quickly followed up with, "Or you'll continue to dilate quickly and in a few hours you'll have a beautiful baby."
Tears filled your eyes once the doctor left and you buried your face in your hands.
"C'mon, baby, don't cry, it's alright," Joel soothed. Then he remembered the water bottle, so he slipped a pillow case around it and pressed it up against your back.
"Oh," you breathed, head lifting up and eyes fluttering open. "Oh, that feels good."
"Yeah?" Joel asked, mindlessly rubbing your upper back. He watched you take a few deep breaths, then your tears slowed and you leaned back with a deep sigh.
"Thank you," you whispered, "this feels so much better."
"You're welcome," he replied just as softly. "I won't leave your side again."
The remainder of the afternoon was more of the same. Contractions came quicker and grew more intense with each hour, but thankfully every time the doctor checked, you were steadily progressing. Joel kept your water bottle warm and would massage your back and shoulders whenever you grew too tense. And even though the pain was getting worse, you were doing just fine because you knew each jolt of pain was bringing you closer and closer to meeting your baby.
It was around nine in the evening when the doctor announced you were ten centimeters.
"You ready to push?" he asked, giving you a comforting wink. You nodded and looked up at Joel, your fingers laced together anxiously. His expression was a mix of fear and excitement while he murmured praise and comfort in your ear. One of the nurses elevated your bed and padded the sides and another was laying out all sorts of sterilized instruments on a small table at the foot of the bed. Joel caught you eyeballing at a particularly scary looking scalpel and he leaned down.
"You don't look down there, you look right at me," he told you firmly. You nodded and squeezed his hand before taking a deep breath.
"I can do this."
Joel grinned and gave you a quick kiss.
"Fuck yeah, you can."
And you did. You really fucking did.
It took less than an hour but it felt like a whole lifetime, and just as you promised, you didn't look away from Joel once. With every push, he stared you right in the eye and clutched your hand and told you how strong you were, how he hoped your baby would be just like you and how he couldn't wait to meet them.
And finally, with one last push that took every ounce of energy you had, you felt it: relief. The pressure in your lower stomach was gone, the pain in your back and tailbone disappeared and for one ridiculous moment you thought you had somehow transcended what it was to feel pain until you heard a sharp wail pierce the air.
Tears flooded your eyes and your heart was racing so fast, the monitor next to your bed started beeping angrily. Then the doctor held up your baby from above the drop cloth that separated your lower half and for the first time in your life, you knew what it was to truly love someone. You loved Joel and your friends, but this was entirely different. This was a unique, pure kind of love that existed exclusively between a mother and her child, a kind of love that settled deep in your chest without any convincing at all.
"She's beautiful," you sobbed, reaching out for your baby.
"How'd you -" Joel began, but the doctor ushered him over to cut the umbilical cord so they could clean her up.
"She's right, it's a girl," he told Joel once he sliced the pinkish grey cord. Blood and clear fluid splashed onto the floor and it felt like marking the beginning of something. Somehow with that simple motion, Joel felt that feeling he never thought he would feel again. That unwavering urge to love and protect and provide flared like heat inside of him to the point where he had to hold himself back from letting the nurses whisk his daughter away.
"We did it," you whimpered, collapsing weakly into bed with tears streaming from your eyes while the doctor got to work cleaning and sewing you back up.
"You did it," Joel corrected before pressing a kiss against your forehead, then another to your lips, lingering for just one second longer before pulling back and swiping away tears of his own.
The two of you stayed like that, enjoying your little bubble for five minutes longer, knowing full well when the nurses brought your baby back into the room, it would no longer be just the two of you ever again.
And when they did, oh, when they did bring her back in, all red faced and angry with the world already, you couldn't have been happier. But when she latched onto your breast, even though that first time was clumsy and awkward, she finally quieted down and looked up at you. She had deep brown eyes just like Joel and she gave you a look that said, I know you. You just laughed and carefully stroked her perfect little cheek while Joel leaned over the bed, smile permanently plastered across his face as he watched his girls officially meet for the first time.
"She's so perfect," you whispered, watching as milk trickled from the corner of her mouth.
"You did so good, mama," Joel murmured in your ear before kissing the side of your head. "What should we name her?"
You couldn't look away from her, and she couldn't get enough of the two of you. Her eyes darted back and forth, probably wondering what the hell was going on and why her mom and dad wouldn't stop staring at her. And before you even had a chance to think it over, you answered.
"Emma," you said, grinning when her eyes found yours again. "Her name's Emma."
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⨠girl dad Joel â¨
made for @kokureno
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This is how I look when Iâm reading about old man cock btw
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