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sadesluvr · 10 months

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Freak - Mike Schmidt x Reader (Songfic)

Mike dials a 1-800 number and gets more than what he asked for.

A/N: Reader is a secret sex guru, and an unlicensed therapist, 18+ only. I'm going to abuse the FUCK out of this GIF. Based on the song 'Freak' by Doja Cat!

Word count: 2.2K

Tags: SMUT / Sub! Mike, Dom! Reader / Fem!Reader / Handjobs / Edging / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Marijuana usage / Brief mention of contraceptives (the pill)

‘Call 1-800-2323 for the answer to your troubles. Enlightenment is just a phone call away!’

Mike looked down at the card in his hands, given to him by Abby’s wellbeing officer out of concern for his personal troubles. He’d never read too much into spirituality, but considering psychoanalysis hadn’t gotten him much further than his usual dream it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

The dial rang, and he expected to hear a raspy elderly woman with a smoker's cough. What he didn’t expect was a lively, young voice at the other end of the line.

“…How may I be of assistance?”

“Uh — There’s something in my past — It’s been bothering me for practically my whole life…I need help finding the answers…”

“Hm,” the voice hummed. “Vague, but I sense you’re holding back…I like ‘em that way…Name?”

Freak like me You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak Freak like me

“Mike Schmidt,”

You'd heard of him from your mom’s friend.

“I’ll book you in for Friday at 8PM,”

“Okay…How much will I owe you? Money’s a little tight right now…”

“Don’t worry. It’s all free of charge,”

Tied him down to my queen bed Tease him just enough to hate me Tied it tight enough, he can't break free Keep him waiting 'til he try This can go one of two ways We could flip the coin, I'll be your slave Call you daddy, give me a nickname I ain't afraid of a little pain (No, I ain't 'fraid of a little pain)

He showed up at the address listed on the card a little after 8PM and rang the doorbell, his hands in his pockets as he scanned his surroundings. You, the mysterious voice, answered the door, and you briefly took his breath away, dressed in a nude, flesh coloured spaghetti strap dress that stopped halfway on your thighs, paired with a sultry smile.

“You must be Mike,” you grin. “Come in,”

The interaction is brief, and he follows you to the couch, an armchair sat traditionally opposite like it would in a therapist office. You gesture for him to take a seat and he does, already feeling like he was under a spell. His eyes glance down briefly at your bare legs as you cross one over the other, letting out a soft moan as you got comfortable. Blood was slowly and suddenly draining from his face to his cock, and he moved his hands to cover the issue, which didn’t go unnoticed to you.

“So, Mike…What is it that’s haunting you?”

He wanted some'n else and he wanna be selfish He wanted them three rounds, DC had to come help him Look, I know your position Try to squeeze in the full nelson though Beat on it, beat, beat on it, mercy like a black belt give Daddy the grand master, daddy, I want it faster Them bitches you fuckin' with, I know they gon' need some practice So bring 'em along wit' ya, I'll teach 'em how to smash ya When I made a little mess on it, he told me to clean my act up

He told you everything; from his brother’s abduction to the breakdown of his family and his living situation with his sister. He was a tortured soul, and he just needed a bit of release. You were so, so glad he’d been referred to you.

“I empathise with you, Mike,” you sigh, leaning in. “It must be hard,”

Hard. Painfully hard.

“Do you mind if I sit next to you?” you say coyly, and he shakes his head. You notice he licks his lips as you get up, recognising how the dress is clinging to your body and beginning to bunch up your thighs. For a split second he gets a glimpse of your black lace panties, and his now fully hard cock twitches in his jeans.

He wants you, and he’s almost certain you want him too, but a deeper part of him wants to let it play out. For once, he’s not in control of all of the decisions and he wants to keep it that way.

“What I’m hearing is that the route of your issue is frustration,” you say, eyes locked on his as you reach out to run your fingers through his messy locks. “When was the last time you ever thought about yourself?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t - I can’t — How is this going to help me find who took Garrett?”

“Because you’re thinking too hard, and it complicates things. It’s time to redirect your attention,” you purr, dragging your vowels so that it produces a tone that sends shivers down his spine.

“…How?” he chokes, eyes wide and pupils dilated. You’re so fucking close to him now, and he thinks he might burst. You smell like weed and sex, and he can’t stop staring at the way your strap is sliding down your arms.

You slide off your dress in a quick motion, revealing your bare body. Mike is rabid now, unable to stop staring at your hardened nipples and the barely there material of your panties.

Freak like me (Tryna freak you down) You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak

“I’m gonna touch you, Mike,” you say simply, and it holds a thousand words. “And then you’re gonna fuck me,”

Hey, I could take a big bat, bet that he thinkin' this a game Hey, batter, batter swing, you could put it on a swing Freak like a triple XXX flick, put her on a chain This pussy off the chain, this kitty insane I could fuck him in the rain, I could fuck him in the Range (Uh) I could fuck him every day (Uh), I'ma fuck him 'til he sang (Uh) Milkshake bring the boys to the yard, I'ma need the whipped cream Ain't ever been vanilla, honey, just wait until you get a taste

He knows he can say no, but relaxes into your touch. One hand rubs his upper torso, massaging his tight muscles as the other is wrapped around his neck as you plant gentle kisses along his cheek and neck before you move to his lips. His kiss is eager, and he wastes no time in finding your tongue with his own.

He needs this so fucking badly, and he doesn’t want to let go.

The kiss continues as you begin to claw at his body, and he briefly pulls away to tug off his jacket and shirt before resuming the make out session. His body tenses as your hands make their way down his chest, down towards the beginning of his happy trail. He desperately wants you to continue the skin-to-skin contact, but you slide your hands over his jeans instead, squeezing him through the material.

He furrowed his eyebrows and let out a small whimper, earning a gasp from you. He was so pretty.

“That’s it, baby. Don’t hold back…”

Skirt off, fuck in the backseat Take that shirt off, baby, put it on me Got me like, "Yeehaw," ride it like a horsey Kinda like see-saw, up and down on the D, give it to him

You relieve his frustration by hastily pulling at his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, leaving him in his briefs. They were black and you could see a clear wad of precum that had been built up over the past hour. Wasting no time, Mike lets out a louder moan as you slide the material down, his cock springing up onto his pelvis. It’s average sized, but with a slightly thicker girth, and is bright pink with want.

“Kiss me,” you instruct, and he nods. His lips find the crevice of your neck and collarbone as you begin to grip his shaft, his tip between your thumb and index finger as you squeeze out some remaining precum, the liquid pooling around your fingers.

It’s pure pleasure for him as you take the entirety of his cock in your hands, slowly beginning to jerk him off, not forgetting to cup his balls as you do. He throws his head back as his hands clench, physical pressure dissipating as you take his hands in your own, guiding it to your breast.

“Fuck…” Mike groans, beginning to massage the skin as you coo in his ear, your grip tightening and fastening on his cock. Four of his senses are overstimulated, and the icing on the cake is your unrelenting sultry stare, making sure you were attending to his every need.

You were the goddess he never knew he could have.

Freak like me (Need a freak like me) You want a good girl that does bad things to you (You want a good girl) You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak Do, do-do, do-do, do-do (Now you need a freak)

You could feel him shudder underneath you and knew he was loosening up, edging closer to orgasm. His whimpers and groans were now louder, and he’d found the confidence to latch onto your nipples, pawing at the skin with his hand whilst his tongue swirled along the hardened bud.

Spreading your legs over his, you angled his face towards you as, taking in his hazel eyes.

“Touch me, Mike,” you said, gaze flickering down to your pussy. “Touch me like I’m touching you…”

He moves away from your breasts to make his way between your legs, his fingers sliding into your wet cunt. He lets out a deep sigh at the sensation, feeling rather proud of himself as you begin to writhe against him.

“Is this good?” he asks, sliding a second finger into you.

“So good,” you moan. “You’re so good for me, Mike,”

His heart and his cock swells, and your bodies begin to move in sync. He quickly finds your clit as your pace quickens on his cock, and you both begin to reach a point of ecstasy.

“Y/N…” he whimpers, lips wet and eyes glassy. “I’m gonna—“

“I know, baby,” you whisper on his lips. “But not yet,” you say abruptly, and draw away. He’s shocked, and stares at you open mouthed.

You respond with nothing but a smile.

“I’m only here to guide you to enlightenment, not give. You have to do the rest,”

He’s totally blank.

“Let go, Mike. I’m here,” you say sweetly, and it feels strangely romantic. “Take me…Do you want me on top, or bottom?”

“Top,” he responds without hesitation. “You’re beautiful,”

Mike can barely contain his euphoria. You, a literal sex goddess, are sat on his lap, body on full display as he fucks up into your tight, wet pussy. The pleasure is almost painful, and he’s almost worried that he’s hurting you by the way his hands are gripped on your hips and his thrusts are desperate and sloppy. All the anger and frustration from his past was slowly unravelling, and judging by the knot in his stomach, so was he.

Freak like me Freak like me (You never, you never, you never been) You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak (You need a freak) Do, do-do, do-do, do-do (You need a freak) Freak like me (Like me, papa)

“Oh fuck,” you whine. “You’re perfect, Mike. So perfect,”

You weren’t lying, he looked gorgeous; pussy drunk and sweating, his frayed bangs clinging to his forehead in an odd pattern. Your lips met once again as he pulled you into him by your waist, the kiss sloppy as he drew his cock deeper into your cunt, hitting all of the right areas.

“I’m so close Mike,” you whined. “Cum for me…”

“Where…?” he whispered. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to see you covered in his cum, or see it seep out of you and down your thighs.

“Wherever you feel best,” you said devilishly, before placing your lips to his ear. “I’m on the pill,”

The words sent him over the edge as he came, hot and heavy spurts of cum filling into your warmth as you finished along with him. Mike bit his lip as he held you close, almost on the verge of tears as you soothed him through the last of his orgasm. A weight had suddenly been lifted away, and he could feel his eyes grow heavy with tiredness.

After a few moments you pulled away from each other, your nude bodies dropping to either side of the couch. Still high from orgasm, you pulled your dress back on and leant over the armrest to open a drawer, not oblivious to the way Mike was staring at you fondly.

Babe, you never been with no one nastier than me Oh, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby Put your head on my shoulder Hold me in your arms, baby Squeeze me oh so tight Show me that you love me too

“Wanna blaze?” You asked, holding a joint to your lips. He paused in thought, not wanting to let go of the moment before answering.

“Can I use your phone?”

You nodded and gestured to the phone, watching as Mike dialled a number.

“Hey, Max - Can you put Abby on the phone? Something’s come up and I can’t make it home tonight…”

#florence_nomachine #florence writes!!#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #fnaf smut #songfic

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not-my-final-account · 8 months

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Danny is Gotham

PS most of the ghost stuff in this is fannon

Most ghosts had haunts. Technically Danny Phantom had the whole world, but it wasn’t his haunt.

Most cities had ghosts. Technically Gotham had loads of ghosts, but Lady Gotham was fading.

I went incorporeal as the beam of energy flew at me, then laughed “What?” Tucker asked, my hands flew over my key board as I beat the noob who had shot at me in the first place.

“I got shot at in game and disappeared in real life.” I said

“That’s you- Danny Clueless Phantom.” Sam said

“Hey!” I retaliated, but it was affectionate.

I didn’t fully understand this whole ghost thing yet. But I had figured out that ghosts had cores, and haunts, and ‘fraids. Cores were essentially the soul of a ghost and that’s pretty much all I’ve figured out. No one seems to remember that I have no clue how any of this stuff works! I’m still a new ghost.

But anyways, ‘fraids were… the best word I could think of was ghost families or animal packs but ghost, and like it or not Sam and Tucker had been accepted into mine. I wasn’t sure quite how it happened but now I seemed connected to them, and when I was happy with them (and/or we were laughing together) my core hummed happily.

Haunts however, I had none of. Haunts were basically a ghosts house or an area the ghost claims as their own or protects. I dunno if they represent status or anything but being a ghost king without haunt seemed pretty bad.

“Yeah!” Tucker yelled as we got another key.

“Only a trillion more to go.” Sam said sarcastically,

“Five actually.” I said. Suddenly I felt a tug on my core “Guys I gotta go.”

“Bye!” Sam and Tucker called in unison. It made me smile as I powered down the game and then my computer, I gave into the tug and let it pull me to where the summoning was.

I had already transformed into my most regal form on the short journey there, so I didn’t hesitate to grab the edge of the circle. What did worry me though was the screaming that started the second I reached my hand up. I cursed whoever made these things for making you pull yourself up and not just be able to fly out, but I got up due to Sams pull up training.

The second I got out I flew up and hovered above the circle ready for battle. I actually blinked when I saw three kids standing in front of me- well one was standing, the other two were lying on the floor and hugging each other.

“Ehh.” I said as I took in what they were doing. The two on the floor were shaking and in hysterics and the standing up one was staring up at me with wide eyes, I think he’s in shock. I reached out slightly and his mouth fell open and he dropped the book he was holding then passed out.

The books title was ‘ghost summoning’ oh my god I’ve been summoned by idiots. I gave them a growl so they wouldn’t try to do this again and prepared myself to dive back into the summoning circle and into the phantom realm where I could quickly fly back to my house and start playing DOOM again. Then I felt a tug in my core. It wasn’t like a summoning which tugged at my core from the outside, trying to pull me somewhere, this was part of my kingly duties; a ghost was in trouble and/or calling for me.

I flew off towards the ghost without a second thought about the party I had probably ruined just by existing and got there in seconds. I landed atop a hill and wind swept my hair away from my face, a skinny grey ghost who seemed like someone you’d spot it old movies looked at me.

She had straight black flowing down her shoulders, a large light grey hat with a grey peacock feather on it, a grey dress and a shade umbrella, she was clearly old although still beautiful and she moved with grace as she stepped before me and fell to her knees

“King Phantom.” she said, how weak her voice was worried me “I am lady Gotham. However Gotham is no longer the beautiful city I knew it to be, it is not close enough to my home and I fear that it has changed too much for me to be strongly connected to it, my power to protect it is fading. Please my King, I have heard you are strong and kind, protect my city, both from what’s outside and what’s inside.” she begged, she was clearly dignified and her begging meant this was truely important. Well, I did need a haunt.

“Okay.” I agreed, relief flooded her face and something else flooded my, I couldn’t name it if I tried but at least it filled an emptiness that had been resident there for a while.

The Lady Gotham fell to the ground, her body faded rapidly

“Please.” she rasped breathlessly “Take good care of them. Protect my city, protect my knight and his sons.” those were her final words.

“I will.” I said, and upon hearing that she slumped down and let herself fade.

I looked up at the city and went incorporeal and invisible. Good thing it was the school holidays, I think I’d need to spend a few days here and find Lady Gothams knight.

I sat down in a corner. I had found out that here I more or less was the city, not body horror or possession though, in a weird way. But it let me sit here fully visible and still be hidden, the shadows wrapped around me and nothing part of the city- my city would hurt me.

I watched as he fought. He was strong, smart, and had resources. I had read the news papers and this was the Dark Knight, he has multiple side kicks who many believed were his family, and even without my help he blended in with the city and knew it like the back of his hand. The blend wasn’t seamless anymore though, he had noticed something was different but didn’t know quite what. I knew though, I knew I had found Lady Gothams knight.

I let him tie up the criminals and he jumped onto a roof top. I followed him and and let the fog hide me, then I landed and let it fade. “Hello my knight.” I called because he was my knight now. He froze and spun around to face me but didn’t attack

“My name is Batman and I am no ones, if you’re some high ranking government offical I assure you I don’t work for the police either.” Batman said, he glanced at the inches between my feet and the ground “Who are you?” he asked, I hesitated.

What title would be best here? Danny Phantom? Danny Fenton? King Phantom? I thought about Lady Gotham and decided.

“You would know me as Gotham.” I introduced, wow that sounded more cryptic that I meant it to. Batman scoffed and I reached out and told the city to curl around him, to protect him and hide him and power him like it did with Lady Gotham.

He froze then relaxed slightly, his cape blended into the shadows instead of ending, his face became almost fully obscured, his eyes glowed in the dark menacingly, his form became something less human.

“Why reveal yourself to me now Gotham?” he asked, for once there was nothing hostile in his voice.

“Gotham has changed too much in the past years for Lady Gotham to have power anymore, she is too weak to be anywhere but the ghost zone.” I explained “She was the Gotham you knew. She called for me to protect the city and protect you.”

Batman looked wary again, I could understand why he wouldn’t trust me. New leadership could suck (or be evil) and it took a while for them to gain respect, especially if you didn’t know them.

“I’ll protect you in a general sense, but if you ever really need help, like life or death help, call for me.” I said, then I let a wave of fog swallowed me and disappeared.

#Danny phantom #notmyfinalaccount writes #dp x dc #danny is gotham au #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp

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lass-us-slay · 26 days

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Alr so I was watching edits and came across Arlecchino and an idea popped into my head!

Danny Phantom as Arlecchino in DC also know as: Phantom the Knave Sovereign

(Still working on the name- Before we start I wanna say, I’m just trouble shooting rn and seeing what new ideas I could add with your guys input too. But so far this is what I have)

———

Ok so plot points:

Somehow Pariah Dark gets free of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, either because of Vlad or the Observants

Pariah seeing potential in Danny (and cause he was already dubbed to take Pariahs place after he was old enough) starts trying to become Danny’s parental model (much like Vlad. But Worse.)

It was annoying at first, but slowly over time, Pariah started taking his role as Danny’s “Father” too far and twisted. Wanting to make Danny strong, stronger than he ever will be.

Then one thing leads to another and an identity reveal happens. Except the Fentons now pretend Danny Fenton no longer exists, and it’s just Danny Phantom that is an after image of their boy. Which pains them so they keep their distance, but still help what they think is left of their boy.

Danny is sad about that- but he has his sister Jazz and his two best friends! He can live with his parents pretending he doesn’t exist, atleast not as Danny Fenton no he can’t- he really can’t-

Then shit hits the fan, resulting in Danny’s home dimension into imploding into itself. (Which may or may not be the fault of Pariah Dark)

Luckily Danny is able to get out with Jazz!

But he’s too angry to rationalize himself after the death of his Haunt and almost all his fraid dying. He attacks and attacks Pariah and observers and whoever that threatens his last family at every turn.

More shit hits the fan, resulting in Danny getting cursed, which really hurts Danny. Enough to do weird ghost shenanigans to his biology, (via curse), and Jazz gets caught up.

Pariah sees a golden opportunity to use this to get Danny stronger to become the next king.

But Clockwork has had enough and steps in. Only to be promptly sealed away by the still acting king; Pariah Dark. Which Danny not even knowing as he’s out for the count thanks to the curse. (Jazz is the only witness. But Pariah can’t kill her because of Danny.)

More stuff happens and now Pariah is the acting Father of Danny and Jazz (with amnesia) who are in a ghost normal(?) orphanage with other kids.

Basically Arlecchino’s childhood happens to Danny and Jazz. Just that Pariah has decided to false make Jazz his “bio” kid to mentally fuck with Danny (smol child, and poor Jazz).

Danny still sees Jazz as his sis even if he doesn’t remember

After Jazz sadly doesn’t make it, Danny faces off Pariah once more for the first time. And consumes Pariahs Core into his, eating him alive so no more Pariah for the rest or eternity.

Then remembers- holy shit his names Danny! Not Peruere, which ew- (kidding I love the name-)

Anyways Danny gets mad at Clockwork only to find him sealed and the timelines fucked- and with Clockwork being so weak since the seal-ment, it’s up to Danny to fix the mess (and the one that was caused by the Observants once more with no one on the throne)

And so now Danny travels around timelines, picking up strays and adopting them (much like Batman, but better)

That there is the rough outline of the story!! I probably will make more but I just need to organize my thoughts before going into finer things (and art!)

Also I’d like to mention- while in the orphanage, Danny’s human side takes on more physical characteristics of his ghost form. Sorta merging the two forms into one? Not sure about it.

But Danny’s human form has definitely changed, and the curse is the same as Arlecchinos from Genshin (although would be nice if someone actually explained the curse to me fully- cause I don’t get it at all 😭)

Anyways that’s it- im thinking about interactions with the kids Danny Adopts and such but that’s for another time 💀

Aight peace ✌️

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 2 months

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Part 18: i'm anything but tame

"Don't tell me it's not fair. Believe me, I've been there. Bittersweet my renegade and I'm anything but tame. Oh, I hate to tell you this way. VIllians aren't born, darlin' we're made." -Villians Aren't Born (They're Made) by PEGGY

Regent masterlist Mundane Macabre Part 17 AO3

Council of Uncaged Birds group chat [User Pharaoh has changed group name to Summon the Fraid Council] Summon the Fraid Council group chat Pharaoh-Tech: Phantom giw left AP InfiniteStarPrince: but thats good??? Queen_Regent: Where did they go?

Dame_Asphodel: Phar tracked them far as NJ but the green says they are close to you. Pharaoh-Tech: did some digging the bomb = not giw InfiniteStarPrince: yeah no gross ecto Queen_Regent: too subtle, not the usual guns blazing style. InfiniteStarPrince: Oh. Dame_Asphodel: Why Regent then? Queen_Regent: Who knows Phantom and I outside our night lives? Pharaoh-Tech: will dig more oracle tried 2 hack me Queen_Regent: Did you make contact? Dame_Asphodel: isnt Oracle a bat ally? Pharaoh-Tech: probably back hacked some files theres a file on Regent InfiniteStarPrince: why would BBB not have 1 on her??? Dame_Asphodel: BBB? Queen_Regent: Big Bad Bat. Batman. InfiniteStarPrince: yeah why wouldnt he have 1 on a meta Queen_Regent: he thinks is one Pharaoh-Tech: it has UR REAL NAMEE Queen_Regent: I told him. InfiniteStarPrince: yeah, R let me know Dame_Asphodel: why? Pharaoh-Tech: u kidding i worried for nothing?!?! Queen_Regent: I’m dating Red Hood Dame_Asphodel: What happened to Jason? InfiniteStarPrince: him too Pharaoh-Tech: wat???? InfiniteStarPrince: R met his family 2 Pharaoh-Tech: hol up !?!?!?! u tellin me RH = JT?? Queen_Regent: Can’t confirm or deny Pharaoh-Tech: imma lay down head hurts Dame_Asphodel: That does make me think R Queen_Regent: that one of RH’s enemies tried to kill two birds with one bomb InfiniteStarPrince: oh snap plot twist Dame_Asphodel: who though? Queen_Regent: RH is a crime lord Dame_Asphodel: who took on black mask Queen_Regent: I don’t want to do anything without proof

InfiniteStarPrince: black mask? Dame_Asphodel: crime lord got ass kicked by RH literally has a black mask as a face InfiniteStarPrince: so looking for one (1) ugly bastard Queen_Regent: evidence first. can’t execute mortal with zero InfiniteStarPrince: realm laws suck Dame_Asphodel: yet you’re still gonna be king sucks to suck Queen_Regent: For now i’ll ask RH for info he’s mad about the bomb worried I couldve been hurt InfiniteStarPrince: gross Dame_Asphodel: and after? Queen_Regent: well we’ll cross that bridge when we get there Dame_Asphodel: I think you mean burn it Queen_Regent: whatever comes first

GothicDame and JazzHands chat

GothicDame: does he treat you well? JazzHands: very

GothicDame: good always need more fertilizer JazzHands: Never change

If she was anyone else, Ellie walking through Jason’s apartment door with a dirty shovel over her shoulder while whistling a jaunty tune would have raised some concerns for the older Nightingale. Jazz decided to settle for fond exasperation over annoyance at her little sister’s literal (albeit forewarned) shovel talk, even though the aforementioned shovel was suspiciously covered in bloody dirt.

However, any annoyance died and went to the realms when Ellie stood face to chest with Jason, one hand on her hip, shovel still over her shoulder and gave him a once-over. A four-foot-six teen standing off against her six-foot even boyfriend should not be allowed to be so comedic.

“So, you’re the-“

“Red Hood.”

“I was gonna say undead weenie, but that works too I guess.”

It was just so ridiculous that Jazz couldn’t help but laugh at the two. Jason and Ellie spared her confused looks at her laughter, but didn’t comment as Danny entered the apartment as well, only he had an ecto smoothie in one hand and a bucket of popcorn in the other. The future Ghost King didn’t seem all that concerned about the scene he walked into, only pausing long enough to ask-

“Did I miss anything?”

[I'm so glad to post a new part to the Regent! If you weren't aware, this also now lives on AO3.]

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #jazz fenton #regent!jazz #hardcover ship #jason todd #anger management ship #jazz x jason #ellie nightingale #danny is a little shit #ellie is a little shit #danny nightingale

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noosayog · 1 year

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[IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU] - ft. knight! iwaizumi hajime

warnings/content: princess! reader x knight/personal guard! iwa, royal au, arranged marraige, angst. One more after this!

wc: 2.1k

part 5. directory here.

With Hajime gone, the days fly by. Before you know it, the wedding is set to take place in a week. Your family will be arriving in a few days and will stay to attend the ceremony to be held in the Nekoma castle. There’s no need for you to lift a single finger. Your dress, itinerary, dinner, guest list were all prepared by the maids in the manor. And that was fine because this is not the wedding you always fantasized about anyway. There is no use in stressing over the details.

What you are excited for, however, is seeing your older brother again. While all the knights and courtesans in Nekoma are kind, you miss your family.

And despite your father’s brutishness, you do miss him. After the union, you know your opportunities to see him will be few and far in between.

And it goes without saying, but your sore heart aches for your knight. Iwaizumi may have broken your heart, but you would be lying if you said you did not miss him. You have already long resigned to the fact that you will love him forever, silly as that may be. At least once an hour, he double crosses your mind and the next 10 minutes will be spent thinking of him, a deadly mix of daydreaming about his smile and bracing yourself to keep it together when you see him again.

Thus, the days are spent lounging alone in the gardens with a cup of tea and untouched pastries. Sir Kenma and Sir Kai have long given up on checking in on you when the faraway look glazes over your eyes. Most of them, sharp and cunning, have seen right through you, knowing of your feelings for your ex-personal knight. They used to sit with you to keep you company, but that does little to soothe the loneliness that seeps through your bones. So they have learned to give you space. After all, they have the rest of this lifetime to get to know their future queen. The days go by in a blur and before you know it, the day of your family’s arrival comes.

You expect a summon to dinner that night, but none comes. You arrive at the dining room as you do every night and find it completely empty save for some of the maids. When you ask about the Aoba Johsai entourage and the usual Nekoma attendees, the maids only shake their heads. You have dinner alone and wander through the halls in hopes of running into some familiar faces, but the castle hallways are silent and empty. After a dragged out tour of the entire building, including the outdoor gardens, you reluctantly give up on your search.

Much to your disappointment, the next two days pass similarly. With the exception of Prince Kuroo having breakfast with you, the only human interaction you receive is from the servants. And with that, the day of your wedding arrives.

~•~

The morning greets you with bright sun and beautiful weather, blue skies and not a cloud in sight, perfect for an early summer wedding. Strangely, not a single maid disrupts your sleep, even after the additional half hour you spend lounging in bed. You decide to get up to find some breakfast and hopefully some company.

When you push your bedroom door open, two familiar figures standing guard on either side of your doorway turn to face you.

“Slept in on your big day, eh, Princess?” the first one teases.

“Pretty heartless of you,” the second one jokes.

“Mattsun! Makki!” you exclaim, wrapping each of them in a hug. “What are you two doing here?”

They chuckle warmly, patting you on the back and reciprocating the embrace.

“We’re here to be your escorts before it’s time to prepare for the ceremony,” Sir Hanamaki explains.

“Shall we have breakfast in the garden today?” Sir Matsukawa offers.

“Where’s Toru and my parents? Am I not going to see them before the wedding?”

“‘Fraid not, Princess. They’ve been busy dealing with some diplomatic shit apparently,” Hanamaki responds carelessly.

“Makki!” you exclaim at his inappropriate language. You have missed that.

“You’ll see them soon enough,” Matsukawa covers. “Well?” he prompts, offering you a crooked elbow.

You slip either arm through each of their proffered elbows and practically skip your way to the gardens.

Breakfast is a pleasant affair as the two catch you up on things you have missed at home. They go through a list of people and their respective updates, including your Father, Mother, Toru, Kindaichi, Kunimi, and all the others.

They tactfully keep Iwaizumi off the list and while you are undeniably curious, it may just be better off not knowing. It may even be better that he does not come to the wedding at all. You keep those thoughts to yourself.

After breakfast, they escort you straight back to your room after turning down your request to take a walk in the gardens.

“No can do, Princess.” Matsukawa declines.

“Don’t want you to run into any surprises, you know?” Hanamaki says cryptically.

Once back in your room, you’re left again to your own devices until lunchtime. At exactly noon, a knock sounds at your door. Without waiting for your permission, the door opens and you are greeted by another face you have missed dearly.

“Toru!” you exclaim, running over to your brother to tackle him in a hug.

He lets out a grunt as he catches the impact of your body, giving you an easy spin before setting you back down.

“Why haven’t I seen you since you’ve arrived?”

“I’m sorry. There’s been some… situations I have needed to deal with since arriving.”

He puts a strange emphasis on situations, but you do not question it. After all, diplomatic matters have always been more of Toru’s responsibility than yours.

“I wish we had more time to catch up,” your brother says, “but I have to ask you some questions now.” His eyes show a seriousness unbefitting of your whimsical brother, his voice solemn.

“Okay,” you agree hesitantly.

“I need to know if you still love Iwaizumi after all this time.”

You recoil at the question, surprised by the question and baffled by the relevance of the topic at this stage.

“Don’t think about anything else. Just be honest with me, as my little sister whose happiness I wish for. Be honest with yourself.”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I do still love him, and I think I always will. You may not know but Prince Kuroo and I… we agreed to…” you trail off, not sure how to explain the situation in a way that will not upset your brother.

He surprises you by nodding in understanding. “I know. I know what you and the Prince agreed to. And don’t,” he pauses a bit here, as if searching for the correct words.

“Don’t overthink what I’m about to ask, okay?”

You nod.

“If you had the chance, would you still want to be with Iwa? Forget all the circumstances. Do you still long to be with him?”

Your answer is easy. A tear escapes your eyes as you respond, “if he and I could simply exist as ourselves, and not as our titles, then yes. I do.”

Your brother smiles then. He gives you one more hug and something about the look in his eyes tells you not to ask anymore questions. You return his embrace, allowing yourself to cry silently in his arms. You don’t know how long the two of you stand there like that, only separating when another knocks sounds at the door.

It’s the maids, ready to prepare you for the ceremony.

Toru releases you, holding both of your shoulders steady. He leans down, face-to-face with you. “Don’t lose faith,” he says quietly, wiping the swiping tears from your cheeks.

~•~

When Toru leaves, the maids enter, but instead of the Nekoma maids you have become accustomed to, it is your old maids and good friends, Rose and Marie.

They are quick to gather you into a tight embrace, exclaiming about how you have lost weight and mildly reprimanding you for crying your eyes swollen on such a big day.

With little time to catch up, they prepare you, adorning you with ribbons, flowers, and jewelry, all while chattering away in their comforting voices. When you slip into your dress and finally see yourself in the mirror, a strange calm washes over you. The same calm that has developed in the days you spent daydreaming in the Nekoma gardens. The same calm that covers your consciousness in a blissful haze. The same calm that makes you feel like you are looking at someone else in your body.

It’s only as Rose and Marie join you on either side, admiring you through the mirror with tears in their eyes that you blink back into the moment.

“You are so beautiful, Princess,” Rose sniffles.

“We are so proud of you,” Marie adds.

You smile at them, fighting the urge to cry again and ruin all their hard work.

“And remember,” they say. “You are destined for happiness. No matter how this day ends. Now, you must go, Princess.”

This day has been nothing short of cryptic messages, but they are right. Outside, the sun is just beginning to lower itself onto the horizon and the sunset is a summon for you to be at the Grand Hall. You give your friends one last hug and a whispered “thank you,” before making your way out.

~•~

At your arrival, the large double doors open to reveal an intricately decorated setup, but sparsely filled. The number of attendees is incredibly few for a wedding of royal caliber. As practiced, you walk down the aisle, vision blurred by the veil covering your face. When you arrive at the front of the room, Prince Kuroo is not at the altar, as he was during the practice sessions. And instead of an ordained priest behind the altar, your father and Queen Kuroo stand in that place. You see the monarchs of each kingdom holding their stern expressions, but as you meet your fathers gaze through your veil, you see a kind look in his eyes, one you have not seen since you were a child. He gives you a small nod and in spite of your confusion, you proceed.

Your destination is on the small elevated stage by the altar. You take the 2 small steps up, dragging the train of your dress behind you and turn around to face the guests. As you finally get a good glimpse of all the attendees, you notice that Hajime is nowhere in sight. On the Nekoma side of the hall, the first chair closest to the stage is vacant. You are not sure who is missing from the Nekoma side save for your absent fiance.

The first to speak is Queen Kuroo, as you hear her begin to announce her son.

“Announcing: Representative of the Royal Family Kuroo, Prince of Nekoma, and future heir to the throne, my son, Kuroo Testuro.”

At the very end of the hall, the curtains are drawn and you see the Prince enter, walking down the same carpet you did just moments ago. However, instead of alighting the steps to join you on stage, he stands on the ground directly in front of you. He does not turn around to face the guests. You give him a questioning look and he just grins like he knows something you do not, though it seems more and more like everyone knows something about today that you do not.

Next, you hear your father clear his throat. His next words make you turn your back to the audience to make sure you hear him correctly.

“Announcing: Captain of the Aoba Johsai Royal Order of Knights,”

Your breath catches.

“And future heir to the Dukedom of the Iwaizumi estate, Iwaizumi Hajime.”

You swivel around abruptly enough that your veil slides out of position. Your obscured vision only sees a flurry of motion at the end of the hall. You see the curtain at the back of the hall pulled back to reveal a figure you dare not register as familiar, though it is one that you have watched and chased after for as long as you remember. Your vision grows hazy and you don’t know if it’s tears or the veil. So you pull the veil right off, not trusting your covered eyes.

At the other end of the carpet, is Iwaizumi Hajime, not in his usual armor, but dressed in formal attire, not unlike Prince Kuroo’s. His eyes are trained intensely on yours. Something in the way he looks at you, walks to the altar, and takes your hands tells you that he is not here to simply watch. He is here for you.

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forest-falcon · 19 days

Text

The Butterfly Effect

Chptr 14

🧡❤️🩶💛🚒🐦‍🔥

"So what's the plan?" Rigby jogged up alongside John.

"Here," John pressed a button at his wrist and the rock face in front of them opened; much the way a garage door might.

"Impressive," Rigby mused aloud. He let out a long, low whistle as he stepped inside.

"We need to clear a path around the pool. Jetpacks just won't cut it if we're gonna try n' stabilize One," John pointed to his brother's green Bird.

"Need me to pilot her?" Rigby's face held more than a trace of excitement.

"Oh...no, sorry," John scratched the back of his head.

"You'll be driving one of her pods. When we've cleared enough of the debris, and the villa has been stabilized; I may need you in Phoenix's carrier to help with moving One."

Rigby straightened and gave a nod.

"Time is scarce. Reports say Alan's okay, but we have a further three people in the villa who may require urgent medical attention, and I can't risk McCready's team in there until we know they have a chance at making it back out again," John sighed.

Rigby cleared his throat; his face visually construing a silent inner-debate.

"What?" John urged, then winced inwardly at his tone. Adjusting to Earth's gravity appeared to be even more wearing when fearing for your family's well being.

"You know, you can call them by name - Virgil and Gordon. We...we have your back," Rigby gave John an awkward clap on the back.

The clap echoed around the cavernous hangar.

John swallowed hard to staunch impending tears. There was a second's pause, before the astronaut stepped into his missing brother's Bird.

*. *. *.

"Knock, knock!" Parker called to signal his arrival outside of Alan's door.

"Erm...am I supposed to say who's there?" Alan's young voice came back.

" 'Oo's there? Well, hI'm glad to see that yer haven't lost your sense of humour along with yer bedroom!" Parker chuckled as he worked the lock on Alan's door.

There was a satisfying sound of the latch clicking, and the door swung open.

"Looks like you could use an 'and, Master Alan," he smiled, extending a hand.

"F-A-B-," Alan enthused, hauling himself up, and into the corridor, with Parker's help.

The teen cracked his back.

"Welp, I think I now hold the Tracy Island record for the longest pull up!"

*. *. *.

"We had to make an 'ole in Master Gordon's window to get to you. 'Fraid your brother's parking had made somewhat of a mess," Parker gestured towards Gordon's rooms.

"Didn't you teach him to drive?" Alan grinned.

"Cars, young Master Tracy, not rocket ships! And, I'll 'ave less of yer cheek! Scott might not be firin' on all cylinders at the moment, but you mark my words - I 'ave a memory like an elephant!" Parker chuckled, wagging a finger.

"You look like one too!"

"Oi!" Parker swatted at the teen as he ran.

*. *. *.

John and Rigby had made light work of clearing the debris surrounding the villa, and the structure was stabilised enough for a team to head up to help locate Virgil, Grandma, and Gordon.

"HELLO? VIRG? GRANDMA? GORD-"

"-OVER HERE!" Gordon hammered a small rock against a metal support beam.

The team tentatively picked their way over splintered floorboards and around mounds of rock that lay strewn across what was left of the comms room.

"Allie, is that you?"

"The one and only! I've brought some friends with me. Didn't wanna hog all the glory, y'know?"

"Phoenix?"

"Yup!"

Jonesy took a step closer, with a small hydraulic whine from the suit.

"Jonesy?"

"S'up Gords? I like what you've done with the place. You're kinda lacking in the door department though."

"Well y'know what Virgil always says; if you can't find a door, make one!" Gordon called from behind the fallen rocks.

"My thoughts exactly!"

"WAIT!" Tycho was almost pulled forwards into the rock face as he tried to stall Jonesy's suited arm.

"The structure's too unstable. Any attempt to move these boulders risks the whole lot coming down on top of Gordon," Tycho gesticulated wildly.

"Yeah, let's not do that." Gordon deadpanned.

"So what's the plan?" Jonesy couldn't deny that the thrill of using the exosuit had him itching to use his new superpower again. Two tonne boulder? No problem! He'd just shifted it like....kapow!

Tycho dragged his hands down his face as he thought.

"Hmm...we need to get a better view of what we're dealing with. Right here, we can only see half of the puzzle." Tycho pensively ran a hand down the largest boulder.

"And how are we gonna do that?" Jonesy was under the distinct impression that Tycho wasn't referencing the exosuit.

"I think I have just the thing!"

The scientist bent down and unfastened the clasps of a small metal case he'd carried down from the carrier.

"Jonesy, meet Mini Max.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #thunderbirds fanfiction #gordon tracy #alan tracy #john tracy #aloysius parker #oc jonesy #the butterfly effect

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gothgoblinbabe · 1 year

Text

Marlboro Red 100’s (pt.2)

Read pt.1 here <3

NSFW 18+

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: smut, swearing, mention of smoking, mentions of abuse (very brief), switch!Daryl and switch!reader bc I could not make up my mind about what I wanted I’m so sorry, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (PLEASE WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), oral (female receiving) and like maybe could be counted as public sex if you squint? It’s in a closed store in the back room idk decide if you’d have sex there

Ps I proof read this once and got a B average in High school writing please do not eat me alive for my mistakes

————————

“No way out of it, huh, sweet’eart?”

You frowned as if Daryl could see you over the phone.

“No, ‘fraid not, honey. Maybe you could come see me after work anyway?”

You and Daryl had a handful of dates since your first, hanging at each other’s homes and enjoying a couple nights out. Tonight was supposed to be another date but it was one you had hoped would be particularly special.

You’d gotten handsy with each other the first date and even more after but never had you two gone ‘all the way’, an idea that made you so excited you were on the verge of anxiety.

That was supposed to be tonight, but your manager had other ideas. Someone had called out and you were stuck with a last minute closing shift, which meant you had to cancel on Daryl.

“ ‘Works for me. How ‘bout I come there ‘round closin’ time? ‘Miss ya’, don’ wanna wait ‘round, ‘m impatient,'' Daryl joked. You loved to hear his low chuckle over the phone.

“I’ll be here, baby,” you hummed, leaning against the wall behind the register with the phone to your ear and your other hand on your hip.

The nickname, unbeknownst to you, had his mouth dry and his hands starting to sweat.

You both said your goodbyes and hung up, the minutes ticking like hours until the end of your shift.

—-------------------------------------------

The clock read 10:59 as you walked towards the door to lock it, right as Daryl’s bike pulled up. You hurriedly rushed him inside, locking the door behind.

“Hopefully no one saw you, the cameras don’t work but I don’t want any customers bangin’ on the door to get in ‘cause they saw you,” you explained to him, looking out through the glass door and flipping the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’.

The little store was family owned and the security cameras in every corner of the store were meant to intimidate possible thieves but weren’t really operational. ‘Too expensive’ you remember your boss explaining.

“Oh, so I get special treatment? After hours privileges?” Daryl teased, running a hand through his long brown locks.

“You get a lot more privileges than that,” you let your tongue slip, a blush creeping across your face as you shook your head, pretending to be fascinated with your closing paperwork after you led Daryl to the back office. He sat himself in a metal folding chair across from your office chair as you leaned over the desk to your right.

“Yeah? Like what?” He inquired, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees.

“Like…” you hesitated, recalling the last time you and Daryl had seen each other, “hands on my ass privileges?”

His face mimicked yours at your words, red as could be.

“Y-yeah, that is true, uh-” He tried to play off his bashful stutter and leaned back in the chair, folding his arms and pretending to be interested in the beige file cabinets and black desk.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he was flustered.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing, just…I like when you’re all shy, it’s cute.”

“I ain’t shy.”

“Just a little.”

“Nah.”

“Uh-huh.”

Daryl had a wicked idea, wondering if it would be too far.

He went ahead with it anyway, standing up and reaching underneath himself to scoot the metal chair right up to yours. If it really was too far, he knew you’d stop him.

In one swift motion, he placed one arm around your waist and the other under your knees and picked you up, earning a yelp from you and a giggle before he sat back down and maneuvered you to sit bridal-style across his lap.

“I ain’t shy,” he repeated, noting the grin on your lips you were trying so hard to bite down.

He leaned under your jaw to kiss at your neck, making you gasp and squirm a little on his lap. He left trails of open mouthed kisses up and down your skin, finally stopping at your lips.

“ you jus’ make me feel a certain typa’ way.”

What way that was, Daryl didn’t even know. It was a fire inside he had never felt before. He’d been with a girl before, sure, to get it done and over with, but he’d never once before felt the kind of lust you evoked in him. You made him eager to please, someone who’d kiss the ground you walked on if you really asked of him. Truthfully, he’d been itching to get his hands on every inch of you he could since the day he saw you behind that counter. He may not have been very experienced in what to really do with you, but he knew he could make it up along the way if he just paid attention to what you seemed to want from him.

“A certain type of way? Good way?” you managed to breathe out with Daryl’s teeth scraping against your neck.

“So-fucking-good way,” he muttered against you, now massaging half your ass with his huge, calloused hand.

You were still laid across his lap and Daryl effortlessly adjusted you to straddle him, his hands immediately returning to your ass as he attached his lips to yours.

You couldn’t help the soft sigh you let out into his open mouth as he pressed his tongue to yours. His hands massaged your ass and he scooted you up to sit square on his crotch so you could feel his erection in his jeans. You gasped, yanking a bit of his hair that was tangled in between your fingers. He let out a muffled, obscene moan at the feeling of your weight on him and the added pleasure of having you pull his hair.

“Fuck me,” he sighed, looking up at you, lips wet and a little swollen.

He didn’t mean to say it aloud but he’d be a liar if he took it back and said he didn’t mean it.

His words brought you back from heaven to earth and you remembered where you were, dry humping each other in the back office of the store.

“The sooner I get this paperwork done,” you started, tucking a strand of Daryl’s hair behind his ear, “the sooner we can get out of here and I can do that.”

He blinked up at you adoringly, leaning into your touch with his eyes still glued to yours. He tossed over an idea in his mind, knowing the door was locked out front and those cameras scattered around didn’t really work. It was a bad idea, he knew, surely, but it couldn’t possibly be that bad if the idea made him feel so good.

“Who said we had to leave here to do it?”

The office space, small but sizable enough to fit two chairs, a desk and a cabinet, had no windows and a lockable door. Daryl kept his eyes on your puzzled face as he leaned forward, still with a firm hold on you with one arm, and kicked the office door shut, locking it.

Your eyes widened as you realized what he was insinuating.

“In..In here? You wanna have sex with me in this office.”

It wasn’t a question, you knew what he meant, you just weren’t sure if he was serious.

“Think about it, how’s anyone gonna find out, hm?” As he spoke, Daryl moved one of his hands to the front of your pants, cupping your pussy.

You softly moaned, unable to keep quiet at the pressure of his palm.

“F-fuck, Daryl, I-” you tried to speak, silenced by the way he started to slide his fingers over your clothed slit.

“Hm? What, baby?”

The way he could make you such a mess with simple touch inflated his confidence and he took pleasure in teasing you.

“Are you sure you want to?” you asked honestly after he removed his hand to let you speak.

“Positive, I want you anyway I can have you, don’t care where we are, all that matters is that it's with you,’’ He admitted, “do you wanna?”

To answer his question, you brought your shirt up and over your head and revealed the lace bra you wore underneath. You tossed your shirt somewhere behind you and pressed your lips back to your boyfriend’s, guiding his hands to your chest at the same time. Daryl cupped your breasts and his fingers slipped up and through your bra straps, letting them fall off your shoulders.

The way he was kissing you was something you hadn’t felt from him before. He was basically fucking your mouth with his tongue, making your mind race with thoughts of how good he’d probably be at using his tongue somewhere else. You rolled your hips against his, grinding onto his dick as he moaned into your mouth. He reached his hands around your back and fumbled for a minute with your bra strap.

You chuckled a little into his mouth, pulling away just an inch.

“Do you need help, baby?”

He sighed and nodded, clearly frustrated.

“ ‘s okay,” you reassured him, reaching behind yourself to unclip the bra.

Daryl’s eyes fell from yours to your chest as you brought his hands to the material, wanting to give him the privilege of being the one to take it off you.

He looked back at you for reassurance and you nodded slightly to give him the green light. He held the straps in his fingers and delicately started to drag them down your arms, caressing your skin with his touch. The cups fell down and your bra was discarded wherever your shirt had been. Daryl’s jaw fell just a little and he took in the sight of your bare chest, his breathing heavy and his mouth wet with excess saliva, nearly drooling for you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he finally heaved out, immediately lurching forward and suctioning his lips to your nipple.

His actions made you gasp, tugging on his hair again in surprise. This made him moan, open mouth to your chest. You imitated his noises unintentionally as he continued to softly nip, lick and suck at your breasts.

“D-Daryl, I- “ you couldn’t speak coherently. Every part of you was overwhelmed by him in the best way possible.

“Hm?,” Daryl spoke in between latching his mouth all over you, “you wanna say somethin’, princess? That feel good?”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips at his teasing words, “uh-huh, y-yeah.”

“So pretty for me…” his words trailed off and he kissed up your neck and back to your mouth.

When you finally pulled away from each other, you saw the mess he had made of your boobs: shiny with spit and covered in light purple and red splotches.

“Jesus,” you chuckled, pushing your fallen hair out of your face.

Daryl stared up at you on his lap, breathless from not only kissing you but from the sight of you. You were beautiful, always, but like this? Ethereal. Other- worldly, with your hair a mess from his hands tangled in it and your chest marked up and wet with his spit. He wanted to say it then, the three words he’d been trying to hold back, afraid to scare you off and away from him. So he bit his tongue, gripping your hips a little tighter and dragging you over the tent in his jeans, determined to distract from his feelings.

You grabbed him by the collar of his old button down flannel and kissed him passionately, once again lapping into his mouth with your tongue. Your unsteady fingers worked at the top button of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. Down, down, down, as Daryl was still grinding himself up into you, you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed the fabric from his broad shoulders. When you tried to pull it off, however, he froze his movement and grabbed your wrists to stop you.

You were surprised, suddenly a little embarrassed and sheepish.

“I’m- I’m sorry, Daryl, do you wanna stop? We can, If you w-” you started to reassure him, but he cut you off.

“No, no, ain’t that, I want it - want you,I just..” his eyes broke from yours, looking nervously around the floor, “you remember I told you ‘bout when I was a kid… all that shit my dad did to me and my brother. Left a lot of scars…all on my back.”

You could tell he was trying hard to push out his words, like they had a bitter taste. You brought your hands to his face, gently cupping his cheeks and bringing his head up a little, forcing him to look at you.

“Daryl, baby, there’s not a thing you have to hide from me. I like you as you are, scars included. There isn’t a thing about you I think I could find unattractive. I like everything about you.”

This wasn’t just something you said to make him feel better. Truly, you loved every detail there was to Daryl Dixon. His calloused hands, scruffy facial hair, broad frame. The way he kissed you, held you, made you laugh. The way he made you feel safe, untouchable, like the most beautiful creature to bless earth. You could talk about nothing and everything and at the same time sit for hours on end in silence, just enjoying each other’s company.

From underneath your gaze, your soft words made Daryl’s heart flutter the same way it had on that first date, the picnic in the park where you kissed him so sweetly. He believed you wholeheartedly. You, if anyone, would always be the person he could open up to.

Again, those heavy three words weighed on his tongue, nearly escaping his lips when he thought over what you had said. And again, he pushed it down in an almost cartoonishly loud swallow of his saliva.

Wordlessly, afraid he’d let his tongue slip, Daryl guided your hands from his face back to where they had been on his shirt, urging you to carry on as before. You did, gently pulling at the fabric as he shrugged it off and let you toss it somewhere in the room.

Your lips attached to his and the feeling of your warm skin on his chest was addictive like those cigarettes he always bought from you, inhaling the smell of you just the same.

You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders, down his muscular arms, back up again and down his chest. You teasingly dragged your fingers in a feather light touch right above his jeans, making him buck his hips forward and shudder.

“God damn, woman, ain’t gotta go teasin’ me like that,” he huffed, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

“No? C’mon, baby, it’s fun. You like it.”

He did, admittedly, really fucking like it. He especially liked the back and forth between the both of you being dominant and submissive.

You repeated your touch that made him shudder in the first place and dragged your hand to palm his cock over his jeans. He gripped your hips, diggin his fingers into the soft flesh.

“P-Please,” Daryl whimpered your name, “ ‘need you, need you so bad, dream ‘bout you-“

With one touch, he’d really become a mess for you.

“You dream about me? What do I do in your dreams, hm?” You spoke softly with your lips to his ear, hand still gently stroking back and forth.

He groaned, grinding himself into your hand and trying to pant out a response, “dream ‘bout your hands on me, your mouth, d-dream ‘bout bein’ in ya’, makin’ you - makin’ you cum.”

His words went straight to your core, starting a throbbing in you.

“You wanna make me feel good?” Your taunt had him nearly shaking, eagerly nodding his head and licking his lips.

“So what do you wanna do to me?” You spoke again, leaning back and removing your hand from his aching cock.

The ball was in his court now and he knew it was a purposeful throw to try to get him off his game. Thankfully, he knew damn well what he wanted to do to and with you, having worked himself to the thought of it almost every other night since you’d started seeing each other.

“Take off your pants. Sit in the chair.”

Daryl’s words made your stomach erupt in butterflies and you nearly fell off him to do as you were told, kicking off your shoes and socks and stripping off down to your underwear.

“Those, too.”

You, again, abided by his words and hooked your fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them down and kicking them elsewhere.

Your lover took a moment to admire your body, every curve and mark and inch of you. He sighed happily, and motioned for you to sit back in the chair you had been in before. You did, crossing your legs in anticipation. You watched Daryl move from the chair and get down on his knees in front of you, hands gently placed on your crossed thighs.

“Can I?” He asked, gravely voice almost lined with desperation.

You realized what he was asking, your face growing pink and eyes wide as you sheepishly nodded, letting Daryl’s hands gently guide your thighs open for him.

He let out a low groan at the sight of you, slick with want for him, your inner thighs wet and glistening just from rubbing your legs together.

He’d never done this before, but god - he thought about it - so often he was pretty sure he was ready to at least try.

Before you could even get your hands in his hair, Daryl was attaching his lips to your pussy, eagerly licking wide stripes up you and sucking on your clit when he found it. He ate you like he was starved for days.

“D-Daryl, I-“, you wanted to tell him to slow down, but his tongue was faster than yours.

He hummed from between your legs, using his buff arms to lift both your thighs up onto his shoulders, cradling his head between them.

“Feel good? Huh?” He muttered when he finally broke away from you for a moment and licked his lips, already wet and shiny.

“Little slower, baby, you’re gonna make me cum too soon,” you huffed out, looking down into his vivid blue eyes.

“What do you think I’m down here for?” He joked, kneading your thighs with his hands, “besides, ain’t like it’s gonna be the only time tonight. You think you got more than one in ya’?”

His teasing intensified the fire in your lower abdomen, your hands coming to his hair again to softly tangle it between your fingers.

Daryl returned his tongue to your clit, licking in circles and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves. Truth be told, he had no idea if he could really even make you cum once, but he couldn’t help but keep up with the cocky dirty talk because of how much it seemed to turn you on. Now, he was on a serious mission to make you come completely undone for him twice in one night. The thought of it alone made his cock twitch in his jeans, feeling awfully tight.

You continued to play with his hair as he lapped at you, so lost in the feeling of euphoria that you weren’t giving a thought about the noise you were making. You mewed and moaned and gasped as he kept his mouth on and in you, pushing his tongue as much as he could into the shallow part of your hole. This really hit a nerve, sending a loud, broken moan through your throat. You couldn’t help the gasp of his name, still gently caressing his temples with his hair in your hands.

He mimicked your moan, hot breath fanning you and tongue still in your pussy. He kept up his movements after, digging his fingers into your thighs everytime you yanked his hair harder. The more pressure he applied with his lips and tongue and the faster he licked and sucked at you, you felt the pressure building in your stomach.

“I-I’m, Daryl, I’m gonna-“ you tried to sputter out but your own moan snuck its way through, the heat in your abdomen almost unbearable.

He just hummed into you, letting you yank his hair and push and pull his head as you pleased - whatever it took to get you there for him.

Finally you felt the knot in the bottom of your stomach come undone, squeezing your eyes shut tight and whining Daryl’s name, littered with obscenities. The euphoric feeling tingled throughout your body from head to toe. Where his hands and lips met you felt like fire.

You tried to regain your senses as he didn’t slow his movement, still sucking and licking at your sensitive clit.

“Babe, mh - babe, please, I- I’m too s-sensitive” you pleaded, trying to tug his head away as he pulled you closer by your thighs. He felt so accomplished and smug with himself for making you cum for him that he didn’t want to stop pulling those noises from you.

After a second he finally let you go and licked his lips, wet along with his chin from your arousal. He lovingly caressed your thighs as you steadied your breathing, legs shaking on his shoulders.

“So beautiful,” he huffed out, scanning your features with his cerulean blue eyes, “I could do that all day.”

“Yeah? We can arrange that.” You joked, letting him gently place your thighs back onto the chair as you sat up a little.

He stood from his knees and you took notice of the large bulge in the front of his jeans, that of which had been twitching and aching with every moan from your lips.

You drew your eyes from his erection to his abdomen, up his muscular bare chest and broad shoulders, all the way to his swollen pink lips and lustful gaze he had upon you.

He swore he could feel the wet patch forming on the front of his boxers at the way you sized him up, looking at him like you practically wanted to fucking eat him.

He’d let you, really.

“I want you, all of you.” you finally spoke, reaching forward and pulling Daryl closer by the belt loop of his jeans. With your other hand, you began to palm the front of his jeans, eyes never leaving his.

He gasped at your touch, hands flying to tangle themselves in your hair. You slowly started to unbutton his jeans, looking for any sign that he wanted you to stop. When he bucked his hips forward, you got your answer, pulling down his zipper and gently tugging at the fabric. Daryl assisted and kicked off his shoes, socks and jeans. He leaned down after he did so to lift you up by your thighs and onto the top of the desk. You yelped and giggled at the sudden movements and let him stand between your legs, placing open mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck. He experimentally ground his hips into yours, his cock centered with your throbbing folds. You whined, the fabric of his boxers feeling especially rough on your sensitive bundle of nerves. It became soaked through from the both of you, being the only layer of fabric left that separated you.

“You wan’ me to take you here, love you right? ‘Like hearing those pretty moans a’ yours.” Daryl was muttering into your neck, sucking red and purple marks so he could show any prick you were all his.

“M-hmm-“ you gasped, nodding eagerly and rolling your hips into his, letting him grip your ass and pull you closer, “ - want you, I want you to have me right here, Daryl.”

Your pleading made his cock leak even more and he couldn’t take it, pulling back from you momentarily to yank down his boxers and kick them away.

You watched his hard on slap against his lower stomach, pink and leaking tip twitching at the release. Your mouth practically watered, wanting to take him in your mouth.

As he gripped your hips again you reached for his cock but he flinched, grabbing your wrist.

“I- Sorry, sorry - “ you started to apologize in panic but Daryl shook his head, dropping his grip to cup your face.

“No. No, ain’t like that, ‘course I want you to touch me - but I’m not gonna get to please ya’ any good if im cummin’ in your pretty hand instead of your pretty pussy, huh?”

His gentle demeanor, reassurance and absolutely filthy praise made you blush red, nodding meekly as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, then your nose, cheeks, chin and finally your lips, swallowing the giggle that had been slipping between them.

His leaking tip was so close to you he could practically feel the heat radiating off your folds. You wanted to pull him in by the hips and let him slip into you, fill you to the brim and make you whine and plead until you came apart for him in his hands.

“You sure you want this?” Daryl asked, reassuringly stroking the tops and sides of your thighs, “I’m nearly itchin’ for it but you know if you wanna stop sweet ‘eart, you can tell me.”

His sweet reassurance made your heart melt, warm and sticky and ooey - gooey all at your lover’s words.

“I want you more than anything - “ you replied, stroking fallen strands of hair off his face and behind his ear, “ - I’ve thought about it since the day we met.”

Your admission made his heart sore and he used his hand to hold his heavy member up to your hole, tracing the sensitive entrance with his wet tip.

“Fuck, thought about -” Daryl couldn’t help the rut of his hips, “- thought about it for so long, how you’d feel. Wanted to bend you over that damn counter and take you right there.”

You twitched involuntarily at the shift of his hips and gasped, moving a hand down to notch him right up against you.

He experimentally pushed his hips forward, slowly starting to stretch his head into the shallow part of you.

Pornographic moans fell from your mouth as he slipped in further and you scratched lightly at his back and hips, feeling the decadent burn and subsequent pleasure of Daryl pushing himself further into you until he bottomed out.

“Feel ok? Does that hurt?’’

You shook your head, grinding your hips forward in an attempt to swallow more of him.

He took your answer and began slowly pulling in and out of you, trying to rock himself steadily so as not to push too hard and hurt you.

You hooked your legs around his hips and used them as a vice to keep him close to you, pulling him in every time he thrusted forward. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stroked his back and shoulders, kissing him affectionately as he continued fucking in and out of you at a steady, teasingly slow pace.

“Daryl, please, faster, baby.” You huffed out, swiping fallen strands of dark brown hair out of his face.

“ ‘m tryin’ not to cum so - so damn fast, you feel so fuckin’ good.” He slurred out, gripping your hips so hard he’d leave crescent shaped marks where his dull fingernails had been digging into your soft skin.

He truly was, too enamored of you and the way you felt and so lost in your eyes that he needed to concentrate on lasting for you, determined to finish you off first for a second time.

The feeling of his tip hitting that perfect spot in you had you feeling full to your stomach, relishing in the way his pelvis rubbed up to your clit when he filled you.

Taking notice of that, Daryl watched your face contort in pleasure as he slipped one of his hands between the two of you and began to rub at your swollen clit, applying more pressure every time he was pressing you into the desk with his hips. He let a string of expletives slip from his lips as he shut his eyes, concentrating on both holding his release and helping you to yours.

He slipped his thick fingers down to where his cock was buried in you and back up again, slick with your arousal. He circled his ring finger around your clit and swiped the bundle of nerves, nearly buckling at the knees when you moaned his name.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, testing how you’d like the way he muttered into your ear and if it would push you any further. He nipped at your earlobe with his teeth, satisfied in the rising goosebumps on your skin and the gasp you let fall from your lips.

“Fuck - feels so good, please,” you huff as daryl picks up his pace and starts to knock the breath out of you with every rut of his hips, “don’t stop.”

He abided your command, continuing his pace and still squeezing his eyes shut to hold back from filling you with his hot cum. The scruff on his chin scratched delightfully against your neck and cheek as he rocked back and forth.

“M- ‘m gonna cum, babe, I’m-“ you tried to warn him, in too much pleasure to speak.

The pressure at the bottom of your stomach grew and your body felt hot all over. Daryl’s touch and the feeling of him hitting that sweet spot in you over and over again with a look of absolute ecstasy was too much for you to take, finally sending you over the edge.

You dug your fingernails into his broad shoulders and let out a string of expletives mixed with his name, panting and huffing as he fucked you through your climax. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans, Daryl’s whines and the wet gush of your pussy, swollen and delightfully sore.

Daryl let go the same time you had, releasing himself into you and letting his cum seep from you and onto your thighs as he fucked it into you. He had opened his eyes to watch you come undone, and as he’d thought it would, the heavenly sight brought him to his climax in just a couple strokes. His brain was clouded with only thoughts of you and the filter from his head to his mouth had disappeared. His lips moved faster than he could register and before he could stop himself, he was speaking.

“I love ya.”

The three words sounded foreign coming from his own mouth. He would’ve thought it was someone else, had he not recognized his own voice. He had stopped the rut of his hips, still buried in you and somehow now absolutely mortified at what had just come out of his mouth. He was wide eyed and tried to speak but was interrupted by your sweet smile.

“I love you, too. I love you, Daryl.” You sighed happily, heart pounding at his admission and from the vigorous activity you had both just partaken in.

He couldn’t help the smile that mirrored yours, anxiety dissipating when you spoke those words back to him. You’d never seen him smile so wide as he tenderly cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for an affectionate kiss that felt more loving than any way he’d kissed you before.

When he pulled away, he tucked some strands of your sweat-dampened hair behind your ear and stroked your cheek, holding in a sigh at the way you contentedly leaned your face into his touch.

You were lost in his adoring look and had completely forgotten where you two were, naked and sweaty up against a desk in the back of your work.

You gasped in a moment of realization.

“Shit, I locked the door an hour ago and haven’t done any paperwork work to get out of here!”

“You want some help cleaning’ up first, honey?”

You grinned at the affectionate nickname, twirling his dark hair in your fingers.

“Please? Then maybe we can go back to mine and cozy up for a bit?”

“Sounds good, sugar.” He replied, kissing you on the forehead and the tip of your nose. You mirrored each other's blissful smiles, lost in one another’s loving gazes.

“Daryl?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

————

I hope that lived up to y’all’s expectations! Pls lmk what you think and if I should write some more stuffs :-) thank u for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixion smut #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #norman reedus #daryl x you #daryl imagines #daryl fanfiction #smut #the walking dead smut

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b33zlebubz · 7 months

Note

Omg RA drabbles... Maybe Gaz gets that sweet sweet friendship bracelet?

the others would never let him live it down

TAGS: silly shenanigans, fluff, platonic found family, older brother gaz, no content warnings RECKLESS ABANDON MASTERLIST

"Gaz."

He doesn’t answer at first, too distracted by whatever he’s scrolling through on his laptop. He’s so absorbed in his work you don’t think he’s looked up once to see what you had been doing—why you so suddenly quit flicking rubber bands at him and messing with the wheely chair he regrettably lent you.

“Gaz,” you try again, leaning forwards over the desk to snap your fingers over the laptop. “Aye.”

His typing continues. You bite your cheek before placing your hand at the back of his laptop and pushing the screen down. His focus broken, he pulls his hands away just before they are smashed under the screen. Then, his shoulders drop as he lets out a breath, raising an eyebrow to look up at you from under his baseball cap.

“What?”

You smile, “made you something.”

“I can see that,” he mutters, dark eyes spanning across the bits of yarn that cover your side of the small table.

“You gotta promise you won’t tell the others about it, though.”

“Sounds illegal.”

You imitate what you can of a British accent, “‘Fraid that’s classified info, kiddo.”

“Getting cheeky now, huh?” he rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “But really, what is it?”

You toss something small at him and he catches it in one hand, turning it over in his palm. It’s green; yarn expertly braided into an intricate pattern and held together with a blue bead. He raises his eyebrows at it before his dark eyes flit up to you. He smiles, chuckles, and shakes his head as he slips it over his wrist—almost concealed by his watch.

“Aren’t you a little old for this kind of thing?”

Your face lights up, and Gaz thinks the torment he's bound to face from the others is worth it to see you—for once—in a good mood.

“Hey," you tease, with a shrug and a smile, "you’re the one who's wearing it, not me."

#bro is so genuinely honored #he won't admit it tho #kyle gaz garrick #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fanfiction #platonic fic #kyle gaz garrick x reader

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arc-misadventures · 10 months

Text

Mothers, And Father

Jaune was currently helping with the dishes as he watched his daughter play with, Velvet, and Silk through the open door leading to the kitchen. He smiled as he heard, Juniper laugh at, Velvet’s silly antics before his focus was broken by a soft hip check, that caused him to look into the smiling face, and beautiful red eyes of, Ilaria Scarlatina.

Jaune: Sorry, I was just watching, Juni play with the others.

Ilaria: That’s okay, Jaune. Every father should be watching over his kid.

Ilaria looked past, Jaune to see, Velvet putting on a puppet show for the small girl who was resting in, Silk’s lap laughing at her silly antics.

Jaune: It’s nice to see her smiling, and laughing like the way she does. It’s a welcoming sign to show that after everything has happened, that she can be happy.

Ilaria: That’s because she has you looking after her, Jaune. You should be proud of yourself, you make a wonderful father.

Ilaria grabbed his arm, gave it a reassuring squeeze as she smiled warmly at him, on that he returned in kind as he squeezed her hand back.

Ilaria: It’s a shame such a sweet innocent child had to lose her parents though. It was hell for me, but I had my sister besides me to pull me through it all. She’s lucky to have someone like you to help her deal with the lose of her family.

Jaune removed his hand from atop, Ilaria’s as he looked away, a sour expression writhed across his face as a ill memory resurfaced. Iliara back away as she had fear she had brought back some foul memories at the fate of, Juniper’s dead parents.

Ilaria: I-I’m sorry, Jaune… I didn’t mean to bring up any painful memories about, Juniper’s dead…

Jaune: They’re not dead.

Ilaria: What?

Jaune: Juniper’s parents, they’re not dead. Although I wish they were dead. Those fucking bastards…

Ilaria: I…? Wha… Jaune, I’m confused, what do you mean by, ‘they’re not dead?’

Jaune grabbed a towel, and dried his hands before turning around, and rested his hands against the sink. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he look heavenwards

Jaune: I told you how I found, Juniper; she was hiding in a bush after the, Grimm attacked her home village.

Ilaria: Yes you said she was covered in scratches, and brusies.

Jaune: Yes, the more recent scratches across her face was from when she went into the bushes to hid from the, Grimm. But, the scratches… No, the cuts across her back, and the bruises she had didn’t happen before the Grimm attack…

Ilaria: …?

Ilaria: Wait…?! No, no don’t tell me she was…

Jaune: Abused? Fraid so…

Ilaria: No…

Jaune: Her father would get drunk, and in a drunken fit would whipped her with a belt, or just took out his general frustrations upon her. Her mother would slap her, lock her up, and deny her food when she, ‘misbehaved.’ She was a twig when I found her…

Ilaria: They did all of that to such a sweet, innocent girl?

Jaune: They did… If they hadn’t already dug their own grave from doing that, the fact that they left her behind as bait sealed their fate. I gave, Juniper to, Pyrrha to hold while I beat the father to a bloody pulp! It was satisfying hearing him plead for mercy as I coldly ask him if he ever gave it to her mercy when she pleaded for it when he beat her…

Ilaria: I-I see… What about the mother, what happened to her, did you beat her up too?

Jaune: Nora beat me to the punch.

Ilaria: That’s not a metaphor I assume?

Jaune: Nope. Nora hit that woman, and sent her flying. She made a pretty nice dent in the wall of the house she hit.

Ilaria: Oh gods! D-Did she kill her?

Jaune: No, but she easily could have.

Ilaria: But, why would she do that, Nora is such a bubbly, happy girl. That sounds like she had a grudge to settle.

Jaune: She did. Nora’s own mother abandoned her when she was just a kid. She probably felt like she was getting revenge on her own mother when she punched that bitch into a wall.

Ilaria: Did you face any consequences for what you did.

Jaune: No. We had just saved the town so they let us go. So I took, Juniper along with us, and I unlocked her aura, to help heal her wounds. Actually, Juniper is not he birth name.

Ilaria: It’s not?

Jaune: Nope. After we left I asked her what her name was, and she refused to tell me. So I gave her a new name, and said I am her father now, and I would die to protect. She asked me if it was a promise It was the first time she said anything to me. I told her an, Arc never goes back on their promises. She then buried her face in my shoulder, and hugged me. Thanking me for saving her. I mean what I said, I will die to protect her, and that precious smile of hers. It’s the least I can do as her father.

Ilaria smiled longingly at, Jaune before she pulled him down into a hugging she was just under a foot shorter than her his face was nestled comfortable between her cleavage.

Jaune: Emph?! Uhh… Ilaria…?

His voice was muffled from between her massive cleavage as she gently ran her fingers through his hair as she hummed reassuringly at him.

Ilaria: You’ve been a father for two weeks, and you’re already well on your way to be a better father than those have been at it for half a century. I’m proud of you, Jaune. Juniper is going to grow to become such a good, strong girl with your comforting hand guiding her along.

Jaune: Thank you. Can you let go now?

Ilaria: But, don’t you like resting between my humongous mommy milkers~!

Jaune: Yes, but this angle is killing my neck!

Ilaria: Whoops!

Ilaria quickly let go of, Jaune who stood up, and twisted his neck, letting loose several resounding clicks from his neck before giving the white haired rabbit an amused look.

Jaune: Ow.

Ilaria: Sorry~!

Jaune: It’s okay…

Jaune smiled as he turned to look at his daughter being flung into the air with wild, joyous laughter by, Rumi.

Jaune: It’s nice to hear someone say that. My dad didn’t really say anything, but he most certainly fawn over his new granddaughter. While mom was crying over how her granddaughter ran from the sight of her… It’s reassuring to hear that I’m doing okay raising, Juniper from a parental figure.

A faint blush spread across, Ilaria face as she nervously squirmed on the spot.

Ilaria: Oh think nothing of it.

Jaune: Well, Juni now has a responsible father in her life, she just needs a mother. Every child needs a good, mother, and father in their lives.

Ilaria: Why do you need to look for a wife, you’re already married?

Jaune turned to look at her with a very confused expression across his face.

Jaune: What? What do you mean by that?

Ilaria: Oh, I forgot you’re not a rabbit faunas. Although you certainly fuck like one~!

Jaune: What was that?

Ilaria: Nothing~! Anyway, among us rabbit faunas there is a custom of sorts to attach ourselves to a shared male. One whom each of us have become close to. That usually entails becoming physically close to to them, and your, well for the lack of a better term, your harem sisters.

Jaune: What?! Sure I slept with you, and everyone else… I-I won’t deny that, but shouldn’t I ask you to marry me before we become husband, and wife?!

Ilaria: Normally yes, and I should clarify if we are all willing to enter such a relationship with you. But, I doubt anyone would be opposed to such an arrangement, many of us would be for it actually. Well, bar my little, Velvet, she has been so against you sleeping around with us from the start. And, yet she was the one who brought you here, and recommended that you should bed each, and every one of us. She’s just being a little jealous, don’t worry, I can fix that.

Ilaria: …

Ilaria: Unless she’s complaining on purpose because she likes the idea of you being stolen from her, and if so you, you are such a naughty little bunny, Velvet~!

Jaune elected to not comment on anything. He found, Velvet’s rage against him sleeping with her family members to both confuse, and frighten him. Instead he walked over to, Ilaria, and gently grabbed her waist, and pull her close. a motion that cause a soft, but excited giggle to escape from the milf rabbit’s lips.

Jaune: Listen, about this whole… harem family thing… Do I… Can I get you a ring before you all start calling me your husband?

Ilaria: You can… but I would prefer a swollen belly over a ring myself~!

Jaune: I can arrange that…

Jaune leaned down, and planted a loving, and passionate kiss upon his wife lips. A kiss that, Iliara returned in kind with one of her own, one filled with, hunger, desire, and above all, lust. The broke the kiss as they started gasping for air, deep blushes spread across their faces as the pulled apart.

Ilaria: Now that is how you kiss someone~!

Jaune: You seemed quite hungry with that kiss. I have to feed you later.

Ilaria: Aww, but can’t we do that now? Everyone is busy watching our daughter, can you excuse yourself, and play with mommy for a bit~?

Her words were whispered with a breathless moan of lust as she pressed her body against his to entice him, her hope that he would take her there on the spot, audience be damned. However, ilaria had said one word that broke him out of his stupor. One he hadn’t taken into consideration when his new wives were involved.

Jaune: ‘O-Our child…?’

Ilaria immediately back away from him, seeing the shock that rang out in his voice at her innocent words.

Ilaria: I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…

Jaune shook his head as he grabbed her hand in his, and softly spoke to her.

Jaune: Nononono… I’m not angry, it just caught me off guard. It’s nice to see that you already see her as your daughter. But… That’s not your choice to make, it not even my choice to make…

Jaune looked over to see, Lily taking photos of his daughter as she slowly started falling asleep within, Lulu’s tender embrace.

Jaune: It’s, Juniper’s choice to make. Let me talk to her about this whole new family dynamic thing. If she wants to see you, all of you, or just one of you as her mother than so be it. It’s her choice to make. Until then, lets leave this whole husband, and wife debacle alone. Okay?

Ilaria: Okay. Just don’t too long, promise?

Ilaria smiled as stood up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. Before , Jaune kissed her forehead in turn.

Jaune: Arc’s promise.

Jaune turned, and walked over to the group of rabbits, and picked up his daughter, and took her to bed. All as, Ilaria smiled warmly as she watched the pair leave.

Ilaria: Mrs. Ilaria Scarlatina Arc~! Ohhh~! It rolls off the tongue, and this lady loves it~! Oh soon, my dear, soon you will be, but until then, I’ll enjoy being Ms. Scarlatina just a little longer. But, not too long my dear knight~!

#rwby #jaune arc #velvet scarlatina #rumi usagiyama #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos

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tieronecrush · 1 year

Text

hot & heavy

chapter five: try to walk away

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 8.6k (long but lots to cover)

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced/virgin reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, mentions of food/eating, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, etc.), polite southern manners (use of sir), feeling familial and self-pressure, oral sex (f), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, likely poor spanish grammar, ANGST

a/n: here it is -- the end of summer #1 with joel </3 more to come from these two. and a HUGE thank you to lovely sweet el @northernwindd for the beta read!!! appreciate you v much bb

Sunday morning air filters through the cracked window, the warmth from the sunlight radiating over your exposed skin. Goosebumps rise every few moments from a combination of the oscillating fan in Joel’s room and the way he’s been looking at you since the two of you woke up together this morning. Navy blue sheets drape over your nude body, head resting on the pillow while you lay on your side facing him. Birds chirp loudly to each other outside, melodic background noise to the slow-rise conversations you and Joel keep pulling each other into.

From how you take your coffee to where you saw yourself in five or ten years, there weren’t many topics off-limits in the vulnerable morning after. Joel learned that you take your coffee with enough milk to change the drink to caramelly color, and you learned that Joel takes his black. As for future plans, you both conveniently skate around relationships, focusing more on what you see for your careers. Joel confidently tells you that he wants to build his contracting business to be able to take on a more managerial role and be able to spend more time at home with Sarah, which stretches a smile across your face.

“So you’re telling me I’m out of a summer job in the next five to ten years?”

“‘Fraid so, darlin’. But you won’t need me by then, you’ll be off livin’ lavishly in Boston and making ads that we’ll be seeing on billboards down here.”

The look you’re sharing with Joel tightens your chest, your vision glazing over to fuzz Joel out barely out of focus. You can’t really tell if it’s from the emotion that’s filling your ribcage and squeezing your lungs or if it’s from attempting to keep your eyes open on him to not miss any minute signal of body language from him.

“Maybe so, but that will just gimme an excuse to come down and visit. To see all my billboards.”

He comes back into focus when you blink the moisture away, a crisp image of the crinkles next to his eyes and dimple on display.

“Oh, yeah? That’s the only reason you’d visit? Nothing else bringin’ you back?”

A hum rolls out of your chest as you pretend to think, index finger tapping against your chin. Joel huffs out an exaggerated sigh, cocking a brow as he looks at you expectantly.

“Guess my parents, and my brother if he’s still here. And I would love to see Sarah as a teenager, she’s gonna be so fun.” A smirk coats your words, teasing laced in the words.

Large hands ghost over your bare sides, fingertips moving quick and featherlight in a tickle that draws a loud giggle out of you.

“Quit ticklin’ me!”

“I’ll quit when you stop lyin’ through your teeth.”

“Okay, okay! Ask again, I’ll be honest.” You catch your breath when his hands stop, arms wrapping around your back to pull you closer, inches away from his chest.

“Okay, I know my kid’s the best, but she’s the only reason you’d stop by?”

“I’d come to see you in a heartbeat. Might even be the first stop on any visit I make, but I think you knew that this whole time.”

The shoulder raised toward the ceiling shrugs up and down, a quip of a smirk raising one side of his mouth.

“I had a feelin’, but I like hearing you say it.”

“Mm, anything else you like hearing me say?”

“Think you know the answer to that, darlin’.” A wink follows his answer, his elbow moving under him to prop him up as he leans over you moving onto your back.

“Yes, I do, sir.”

Joel looks away to the side, a chuckle exhaling shortly out of his mouth before he turns back to you and shakes his head.

“Mi diablita, eres demasiado (My little devil, you are too much).”

Joel’s hand lays on your thigh, thumb brushing back and forth while he steers his truck with the other hand. The cab is silent besides the soft trill of the radio and the wisping wind that whips in through the cracked windows as you head to pick up your car in the mall parking lot.

You can’t bring yourself to say anything, to recognize that you have to drive four miles away to go home when you live forty feet from Joel’s. Something swirls in your stomach, a similarly sinking feeling that guilt brings you but you don’t feel guilty about being with Joel. It’s not an ideal situation, and you would never want him to be subjected to neighborhood ostracization or gossip — but is avoiding that worth the dull burn you feel when you have to slink home after kissing him behind closed doors or staying the night? Not being able to go see him when you want to unless you sneak around to do it? Is it all worth it to him?

The pickup coming to a slow stop interrupts your spiraling thoughts, Joel’s hand patting your thigh to grab your attention. When you look over at him, brows creased with soft concern and brown eyes churning with sympathy. A tight smile presses your lips into a thin line, your hand laying over his.

“Before you go, um, I wanted to ask you somethin’,” his opposite hand stills on the steering wheel, curling his fingers around the frame tightly, “Sarah’s birthday party is coming up this Saturday. We’re havin’ it at the house, but I was wonderin’ if maybe you would come? Sarah told me about a million times that she wanted to invite you.”

Taut cheeks from your narrow smile relax, teeth showing when your top lip curls up. Your hand squeezes his under it, turning on the bench seat to face him more head-on.

“I’d love to come if Sarah wants me to,” his eyes dart to yours from their position looking out the windshield, eyes wide with hope, “But, do you want me to be invited? I mean, I know you said when you were planning the date that Tommy would be there and her friends’ parents — and her mom — so if it’s going to be too much, I can celebrate with Sarah bef—”

“My sweet girl, you’re fixin’ to work yourself up into a tizzy about nothin’,” Joel interrupts himself to lean over and catch your lips in a pacifying kiss, continuing when he pulls away, “I want you there. Probably will need you there, ‘cause I need help throwing the perfect “Little Mermaid, Lilo & Stitch, and Finding Nemo” party.”

A bellowing laugh rolls out of your chest, shaking your head as you reach out to pat his thigh, “Joel, honey, all of those movies are set in or around the ocean. Just make it sea-themed and Sarah will be extremely happy. I can help get things together this week.”

A long sigh exhales and deflates his chest, a sheepish grin on his face, “See? Need you there, sweetheart, ‘cause I clearly need the help.”

A few more kisses are exchanged, Joel escorting you the five feet over to your car and standing in the open door while you slide into the driver’s seat. His frame leans into your car, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Really liked havin’ you at home this weekend, darlin’. And being able to take you out on a date.”

“Me too, Joel.”

The look on his face is unreadable before his smile replaces it, a metallic thump sounding above you as he hits his palm against the roof of your car.

“Drive safe, sweet girl.”

The sound of children’s screams and laughter slowly muffled as you slid the porch door shut and stepped into Joel’s kitchen. The last of the snacks you’d come early to put together need to be brought outside for the kids, and Tommy’s been out on cooler duty — keeping it stocked with drinks for the parents in attendance. Your parents were out of town dropping your brother off at his new apartment for his sophomore year, so it was only you, the Millers, and some kids and parents from Sarah’s class and camp.

Standing at the island, you pour some more tortilla chips from the bag to fill up the bowl in front of you more, getting lost in fluttering around the kitchen to get everything perfect before you bring it all out. You don’t notice the sound of the door to the garage shutting or Joel’s footsteps coming through the living room to the wide entry to the kitchen. What does pull your attention away from your task is his voice, a smile playing at his lips as he watches you.

“Think you know this kitchen better than I do at this point, sweetheart.” He crosses the room and comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist in the private moment.

“I just know where all the stuff for the party was cause it was Sarah and I that went to the store to grab everything yesterday. And I put it away,” you shake your head with a grin, “You wanna grab some of this to bring it outside?”

His chin rests on your shoulder as he watches your hands move, his hands bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips.

“Mhmm, can do, darlin’. In a minute.” He presses his lips to your exposed skin next to the strap of your dress, dropping the fabric from his hands and gripping you to turn you around to face him. A gentle kiss is placed on your lips, you pull away after a moment and him chasing you to pepper pecks on your lips and cheek. Your laugh pulls him away from your face, a boyish grin showing his dimple.

“Thank you for your help today, sweetheart. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. You made Sarah’s birthday real special.”

“You don’t have to thank me, I would have helped even if I didn’t get an invite,” Joel chuckles and squeezes your waist as you continue, “You’re the one who planned the day and invited everyone and got all the games and everything outside. You’re the hero of the birthday. And you’re a really good dad.”

Sincere gratitude fills his brown eyes as you get lost in them, a comfortable silence falling over the room as you take each other in. It’s only interrupted at the sound of the screen door, you flipping around quickly to busy yourself and cover up the intimate moment with Joel.

Tommy strides in, oblivious to how close you two are standing as he crosses over to the fridge to grab another six-pack of beer to put in the cooler outside.

“Either these parents are drinkin’ like fish, or we’re gonna have some drunk eight-year-olds on our hands.” Tommy turns to face Joel next to you when the sound of the doorbell echoes rings throughout the house. After the first ring, it keeps going incessantly and the two brothers share a knowing look.

Joel sighs, rolling his eyes and brushing his fingers against your lower back subtly when he moves to go answer the door.

“Y’all know who that is just from the bell?” you ask Tommy, a bracing expression on his face when he hears the door open.

“Yeah, it’s something that Ti—” he’s cut off when an unfamiliar voice speaks quickly at Joel in the other room, annoyance slick in her words.

“Why’d you have to move across all of Austin, Joel? Makes the drive over here impossible. And made me late for my daughter’s birthday, so thanks for that.”

“Tiff, you’ve known my address since we moved and have known the time for the party for two weeks,” Joel’s voice gets louder as he follows Tiffany, Sarah’s mom, into the kitchen where you and Tommy are standing still. She looks over at Tommy, dropping her gift bag on the counter.

“Nice to see you, Tommy,” Tiff’s voice is laced with tension as she looks at the younger Miller.

“Always a pleasure, Tiff,” Tommy counters, a sarcastic smile on his face.

You’re watching it all from the far end of the kitchen, twiddling your thumbs out of nerves at the shift in energy. Tiff’s attention drags from Tommy, across the party food laid out on the island and up to you, her eyebrows raising.

“And you are?”

Her head bobbles as she asks, Joel stepping forward and giving you a quick apologetic look before he makes introductions, giving Tiffany your name before saying, “She’s Sarah’s nanny for this summer. And our next-door neighbor. And this is Tiff — Tiffany — Sarah’s mom.”

He makes a vague gesture between you and her, his shoulders tense under his white t-shirt. He slips his hands in his back pockets, eyes avoiding you as Tiff locks hers on you like prey.

“Nanny, huh?” Her lips press together into a thin line, nodding slowly as she surveys you head to toe. Right before she speaks again, the door opens, and Sarah bounds in with her curls bouncing.

“Hi, Mommy!” She runs over and gives her mom a hug, pulling away and looking around with a big smile at all of the adults closest to her in a room altogether.

“Everyone come outside! I wanna show you my cartwheel, I think I got it perfect now!”

“Uncle Tommy’s gonna come out and watch you, and we’ll be out in a minute, Bug.” Joel smiles sweetly at her, his eyes turning to Tommy as he jerks his head outside.

Tommy puts a wide smile on his face, chasing Sarah back out the door to go play. Joel huffs out a sigh as Tiff fills the silence again.

“So, can we just address the fact that you two are definitely fucking?” She points between you two with a cold laugh and you try your hardest to keep a poker face.

Joel rolls his eyes, turning to face Tiffany head-on.

“Tiff, it’s Sarah’s birthday party. We’re not talkin’ about my personal life right now, and even if we were, there’d be nothin’ to talk about.”

“Oh, bullshit. But whatever, you keep your secrets to maintain the spark of sleeping with someone that much younger than you. And it isn’t personal if it’s someone who’s takin’ care of Sarah. That affects me, and her too. Better not be doin’ anything in front of Sarah.”

“Quit bein’ ugly, Tiff. I’d never do anything that would negatively affect Sarah and you know that. Now let’s just drop it, ‘cause there’s nothing even going on, and enjoy celebrating our daughter’s birthday.”

It’s like watching a tennis match, the two of them going back and forth across the room from you. You feel like slinking out of the door if you could without drawing attention to yourself, but you definitely can’t do that so you’re as still as a statute. The people-pleasing tendencies in you are screaming at you to say something to diffuse the tension.

“Joel’s right, there’s really nothing. He’s just my boss, and I wanted to come today 'cause Sarah invited me.”

Both of their heads snap to you in the corner of the kitchen, Joel’s stare softening as he sees the manifestation of your anxiety in the way your fingers can’t stop fiddling. Tiff scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest.

Joel speaks much more relaxed to you, “You do not have to defend yourself, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart? Well aren’t you just a precious thing, huh?” Tiff’s got a Cheshire smile on her face, shooting Joel a smug glare that makes your blood boil. She has the audacity to come over and blame all of her mistakes today on him, and to top it all off, accuse him of sleeping with you? And to call you ‘precious’? That’s a slap in the face in the South.

He is, obviously, but she absolutely doesn’t need to have the satisfaction of being right.

You watch her cross the room to head to the door to the backyard, sending a smirk to you. You muster one of your most polite smiles, catching her arm.

“Lovely to meet you, Tiffany, you’re so…self-willed. I can see where Sarah gets it,” you let go of her arm and hold your hand up to your chest to give her a “Bless your heart, hon.”

Which is Southern for “Fuck you.”

The door shuts hard behind her, shaking in its frame. You look at Joel, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose and eyes closed. You walk over to him and rest a hand on his shoulder. He jumps at your touch, his hand dropping from his face and his eyes opening to look at you to his right.

He immediately averts his gaze towards the floor, his downcast expression and furrowed brows telling you what he was going to say before he even speaks. You pull your hand away and swallow, giving him a tight smile.

“I’m gonna head home. I don’t want to be the subject of anything else between you two during Sarah’s birthday.”

“Darlin’, I’m sorry about all that. She’s quick to temper and insults. And with her talkin’ like that, I just don’t think we should—”

“I get it. There are a lot of people here, and she’s Sarah’s mom. Kinda pulls rank over her nanny,” you laugh to attempt to break the tension, biting harshly on the inside of your cheek, “I’ll see you Monday.”

“I really am sorry, sweetheart…Thank you for all your help,” he caresses your cheek, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Let me walk you out.”

You shake your head, patting his chest, “No, no you go spend time with Sarah. I’ll call you later to hear about her reaction to my gift.”

Joel nods back to you, watching you from the kitchen as you leave him with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, gathering the things you’d brought for party preparation and stepping out their front door. The echoes of giggles and screams carry all the way to your house, only stifled by the door closing behind you as tears sting your eyes.

The streaks on your face were long dried, your sundress exchanged for an oversized t-shirt and shorts to sleep in, and place taken laying out on the couch as your third episode of Friends reruns starts. You curl into the throw blanket laid over you, pulling it up to tuck it under your chin. Rachel and Ross are yelling back and forth about if they were on a break or not, the sound tinny from the loud volume you’re playing it at. The couple on the TV is drowned out by a loud and steady knock on your front door, your head snapping in the direction of the entryway. You slowly climb off of the couch, tiptoeing over to attempt to hide yourself from any possible danger. Looking through the peephole, you see Joel’s back, all wide shoulders and messy hair as he kicks his feet against the pavement of your porch.

There’s a tightening in your chest as you debate whether or not to open the door or let him think you’ve gone to sleep already, but it is only 9pm and he knows you can be a bit of a night owl.

The deadbolt clicks undone and you twist the knob, gingerly pulling the door toward you. Joel turns around at the noise, half of his mouth quirking up in a nervous, closed smile. There’s nothing said for a few beats, the two of you only staring at each other.

You break first, huffing out a quiet exhale and leaning against the doorframe.

“You need something, Joel?”

A flash of hurt travels through his eyes at your aloof tone, pressing his lips together before he speaks.

“Wanted to come by and bring you a slice of cake,” he admits sheepishly, holding up an ocean-themed paper plate with a piece of the funfetti cake you’d baked for the event on top of it.

You extend your hand out to take the treat from him with your eyes dropping from his to follow the movement. His fingers brushed yours and his other hand gently closed around your wrist to keep you there for a moment.

“Can I come in? And maybe we can talk, or just hang out, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flick back up at his face, brown eyes pleading with you.

“You don’t have to get back to Sarah?”

He shakes his head, “Her present from her Uncle Tommy was a ‘sleepover at his house with loads of candy and doing what your dad says you can’t do’. She took him up on that offer tonight.”

You can’t help the chuckle that slips from your mouth, a faint smile on your face as you nod.

“Can’t say I blame her,” you take a step back and jerk your head to the side to gesture inside, “C’mon in.”

Joel kicks off his shoes in the entry, following you back to the living room and taking a seat next to you on the couch. You curl your legs up underneath you and face him, leaning your side against the backrest after lowering the volume on the TV further.

“So, what’d you wanna talk about?”

Joel lets out a deep sigh, leaning back and swiping a hand over his face before he looks at you.

“Today. All of that shit. You leavin’ early wasn’t fair to you and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for everything Tiff said, and you ending up being in the middle of us arguing like we always do.”

“Yeah, there was certainly a lot…passion there.” You bite your lip and he shoots you a warning stare.

“Easy there, darlin’. Ship’s long sailed there.”

You laugh and nod slowly, silence falling between the two of you again.

“I meant what I said. It wasn’t fair to ask you to leave early or imply that you should. I just, I didn’t want anything to kick up dust or have anybody pick up on…” he trails off, not wanting to say what he thought out loud.

“Yeah.” It comes out as more of a sigh than a word, turning towards the nearly mute show playing on the TV.

Joel shifts closer on the couch, one of his hands coming up to hold your jaw and turn your head back to him.

“I care about you — so much, sweetheart, I do. I need you to know that. I just, I don’t want you to get hurt from what everyone says or have this affect your family or somethin’.” His thumb brushes your cheek, eyes locked on yours.

“I get it, Joel. I do. It was just, I don’t know, it was just hard to see you so easily say I was nothing but Sarah’s nanny today. That’s what upset me the most, how smooth of a lie it was — if it was even a lie.”

He cringes at the last part, a sting to his heart as his eyes linger closed for a moment.

“It wasn’t a lie, my sweet girl. You’re—you’re mine. In every way you’ll let me have you. You’re not nothing to me. You’re, you’re something incredible.”

There’s a candor in his eyes and in his words that mollifies the heartache burning your throat and your chest, your body melting into his touch and falling closer to him, chasing the warm puffs of air that blow from his lips.

You kiss him, his plush bottom lip puzzling in between yours in a tender touch. Both of you are still there for a breath before you pull back just inches, eyes looking at his through your lashes.

“I want you to have me in every way. I want you to be mine.”

“I’m yours, darlin’. You tell me what you want, I’ll give you anything.”

He searches your expression, waiting with bated breath for you to respond.

Instead, you stand from the couch and smile softly as Joel’s clearly confused, his hand grabbing yours to tether himself to you. You squeeze his fingers, tugging on his arm to get him to stand.

“I told you, I want you to have me in every way. I want it to be you, the first time. All the time.”

Joel smiles tenderly, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze you against him.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

Ahead of him, you guide Joel up the stairs and to your bedroom. He shuts the door behind him despite it only being you two in the house, enclosing you in the bask of the warm, yellow lamplight from your nightstands.

Joel observes the space that he’d peaked into so many nights this summer, a smirk playing on his lips as he reminisces. Your touch pulls him back to you, his smirk turning into a grin as his eyes filled with affection. His fingertips graze your cheekbones, one holding your jaw as he murmurs to you.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Que hermosa.”

His lips capture yours in a wistful caress, the exchange heating up as his hands move from your face to dance along your curves, giving soft squeezes to your supple skin. Little, faint sounds that you’re making encourage him further, his large frame walking you backward as he tugs your t-shirt over your head — discarding it to the floor haphazardly.

There’s nothing more covering your chest, and Joel eagerly arcs down, one arm around your waist as his mouth encapsulates one of the peaks of your breasts, sucking and prodding his tongue over the perked-up nub. His name comes from you breathlessly, his lips removing with a faint pop.

“Lay down on your bed, sweetheart. ‘M gonna take care of you,” he pulls his own shirt over his head, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them off his legs before he moves to kneel on your bed in his boxer briefs. You do as he said, climbing onto your mattress and propping yourself against your pillows. Joel asks with a tug to remove your shorts, you give him a yes and lift your hips for him to pull off your shorts and panties, leaving you completely bare.

His hands skate back up your calves, hooking in the creases of your knees to spread your legs for him. They continue their journey up your thighs, one moving to skim over the softer skin at the inside near your throbbing core.

“Eres divina, mi dulzura. Una visión absoluta. (You are divine, my sweetness. An absolute vision).” His gaze pours over every inch of you, his touch exploring every spot his eyes linger. The attention he’s paying to you simmers inside of you, a quiet beg slipping out.

“Please, Joel…”

“What, baby? What can I do for you?”

His fingers are rubbing circles down your torso, stopping to brush against the curls at your mound while he waits for your command.

“Touch me please, like you did before.”

He hums contently at your request, licking his lips and swiping a finger through your arousal. His thumb presses languid circles on your clit. He bows his head down to yours, lips pressing against yours in unhurried kisses, swallowing the delicate whimpers that seep from your throat. Your sounds get louder and more persistent when he glides one of his fingers into you, a slow rhythm building before he adds a second.

“Taking it so well, darlin’. Feels good, yeah?” He speaks against your skin as his mouth dawdles along your neck to your collarbone, teeth grazing and lips sucking a mark onto your chest.

“Mhm fuck, Joel, I love your fingers inside me.”

“Gotta get you ready for me, sweet girl. Think you can take another?”

At your nod, he thrusts in a third, the stretch of his thick fingers reeling you to toe against the edge, your mind clear of anything other than the feeling of him filling you up. Your head pushes back into the pillows, his name repeated in a prayer each time he hooks against the spongy spot on your walls.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, my pretty girl. Show me how beautiful you look filled up with my fingers, squeezin’ around me,” his jaw dropping ajar to mirror your own as your release barrels into you, hands gripping Joel’s shoulders and digging you nails in. He works you through your euphoric descent, humid kisses pressed into your breasts.

Your fingers card through his hair, pulling his head up to yours and kissing him deeply. Joel hums a moan into your mouth, tongue melding with yours and grinding his tented boxers against your drenched heat, a dark wet spot forming on the light grey fabric. He pulls back, lips swollen red and puffy as he rasps out.

“Will you let me taste you, darlin’? Wanna feel you come on my mouth,” his nose nudges against yours as his words add to the humidity between the two of you, a whimper from you in protest.

“I want you inside me, please.”

“I will, sweet girl, promise. Gonna make it easier to take me. And I wanna have you on my lips for the rest of the night. Pretty please, sweetheart. I’m beggin’, even just a little taste.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh lightly, “‘M all yours.”

“Debes ser de mis sueños, cariño (You must be from my dreams, darling.) Don’t know how I found you.” A path down to your thighs was carved by his mouth, kisses, bites, and licks left on your skin. Joel settles on his tummy between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs to leverage your hips up to his mouth.

Joel purses his lips and exhales, sending cool air onto your wet folds. You hiss, one hand finding his hair as he chuckles darkly, his hooked nose nestling into the curls at the top of your center, inhaling deeply before his mouth finds your clit.

His tongue flicks your bud, flattening against it and moving in slow, teasing circles. He pulls his tongue back and puckers his lips around the button, sucking with a lewd noise as he takes some of your arousal in, exchanging for his own saliva.

“So sweet, pretty girl. Fuck, can’t get enough of you.”

The strong muscle of his mouth licks up from your tighter hole to your clit, a few figure eights flicked against it and driving your hips to jerk up involuntarily.

His thumb replaces his tongue, freeing it to dip down along your folds and lick into your tight cunt, a quick rhythm found that has you drenching his chin, high-pitched moans hyperventilating from your chest.

“Oh my god, Joel…”

A chuckle rumbles from him, vibrating against your skin and adding to his treatment of your cunt. Your fingers tug in his curls, eyes screwing shut tightly.

Right near the peak of your pleasure, he switches up his positioning and brings his lips back to nurse on your clit and two of his fingers replace his tongue inside of you.

The nearly pornographic noises he’s creating between your legs mix with your wanton moans, quick huffs of air giving you enough breath to shout his name as you come hard. Your hips push against his face to ride out the high, Joel moaning as you take control to fuck his face to keep it all going for yourself. Twinkles of light sparkle in your vision when you open your eyes again, colors kaleidoscoping at the edges of your gaze. You sit up to look down at Joel still on his stomach, a drunken smirk on his face when he looks up at you.

He groans as he lifts himself to rest his weight on his hands, climbing over you to bring his face even to yours. Your come glistens on his skin and coats his mustache and beard, a giggle slipping out as you shake your head.

“You’re a mess,” you say as you reach to wipe him clean, his head jerking back and eyes widening incredulously.

“Don’t get rid of it. Told you I wanna be tasting you for the rest of the night. You’re gonna taste yourself, too.” He smirks smugly, tracing the tip of his nose along the side of yours, his lips ghosting yours before catching you in a sloppy kiss.

“You taste good, don’t you think?” He winks as he studies you from above, a smirk still evident on his face. Your hand coasts down his soft torso, wrapping around his hard length after you slip your hand beyond the waistband, stroking him slowly as you watch his cockiness fall. His eyes flutter close, mouth ajar as tiny whimpers escape from his throat.

“I need your cock.”

With a shudder, he opens his eyes, the shade of them nearly black as his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip.

“Care to ask nicely, sweetheart?”

His low timbre sends a tingle that flutters your walls around nothing, huffing out before correcting your manners.

“May I please have your cock?”

Joel tsks from over you, his head slowly shaking left to right.

“Not quite. Again.”

“May I please have your cock, sir?”

He hums satisfied, kissing you tenderly and smirking against your lips.

“That’s my good girl,” another smack of your lips connects you two before he pulls away, looking at you adoringly, “You sure you wanna do this, my sweet girl?”

“Absolutely. Nobody else I’d want it with.”

“Ay Dios mío, ¿Cómo podría renunciar a ti? (Oh my god, how could I ever give you up?)” Disbelief floods his eyes, taking one last kiss from you, slow and sweet. Joel pushes himself up to stand on his knees, making quick work to strip himself of his boxers. Your mouth waters as you look at his cock sprung against his stomach, pre-cum dripping from his head and a twitch jerking it before his hand wraps around and gives it a few lazy strokes.

He spreads your legs wider, making sure the position is comfortable as his hips crowd against you.

“Alright, sweetheart, it might be a little uncomfortable at first, but the beginning's gonna be the worst part. Once you feel good about that, rest will make you feel even better.”

You nod in understanding, feeling heat prickling around your whole body as nerves bubble in your stomach. Joel smiles tenderly at you, guiding his hard cock to line up at your entrance.

“You ready, cariño?”

“Yes, ‘m ready. Please, Joel…”

He takes the moment of your relaxed exhale to push the tip of him inside your walls, the stretch of his girth burning you in a different way than his fingers. It’s not an overly painful burn, feeling like the stretch of a muscle. His hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing your skin and speaking quietly.

“You alright, darlin’? ‘M not hurtin’ you, right?”

Your head shakes quickly, breathing out a breath you were holding and feeling your body relax around him and adjusting with the lack of tension.

“Not hurtin’. Just feels…different.”

“Different’s alright, sweetheart. ‘S just something new.”

Joel’s chest is taut as he breathes through his own pleasure, willing his hips still until you give him the go ahead to push a few more inches of himself inside of you. You feel fuller than ever before, even without all of his length inside. He pulls his hips back slowly, the drag of him inside squeezing a moan from you. He starts at a slow pace with only a few inches of himself, encouraged to give you more with the louder, repeated sounds you're making under him.

“Fucking hell, pretty girl. So tight, god…”

“In a good way?”

“Yes, baby, course it’s good — everything about you is good, no, great. You’re makin’ me feel so unreal right now. You’re perfect.”

After a few more slow thrusts, he slips himself inside of you completely, his head rolling back with a moan of your name as you gasp loudly at the feeling of him against every part of your cunt. He loses his composure, lack of self-control seeping through as Joel starts to really fuck you, quick snaps of his hips burying him to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling, mouth opening with silence choking any words from your mind. One of his hands grips your waist to hold you in place on the mattress as he drives into you, the other cupping your breast and squeezing while his index and thumb pinch your nipple.

The attention all over your body ripples pleasure throughout every one of your nerve endings, his name falling from your mouth over and over in breathy whines. He folds over you, lips finding the shell of your ear and whispering to you as he pushes you to toe the edge of Cloud Nine.

“Te adoro, hermosa. Cada toque tuyo se siente como la luz de una estrella tocando mi piel. Cada beso me respira nueva vida. (I adore you, beautiful. Every touch from you feels like the light from a star touching my skin. Every kiss breathes new life into me.)”

He doesn’t translate for you, leaving his words a mystery to your love-drunk brain. With his next thrust, he pushes you over that edge, a fall from the heavens as you plummet back down from euphoria into your body.

“Fuck, baby, you’re made for me. Gonna make me come, god damn.” His hips move back to leave you, your instant reaction to hook your legs around, digging your heels into the flesh of his ass to keep him inside.

“Please, please inside of me. I’m on the pill, take it religiously,” you whine out a beg, desperation slick in your tone.

“Who am I to deny you, my sweet girl?” He shakes his head, hips thrusting into you a few more times before he spills his come, coating your walls and rolling his head back with a throaty groan. Both of you are still as you catch your breaths, his cock softening inside of you before he pulls it out slowly and lays next to you.

“You alright?”

A laugh first before answering, “‘M feelin’ amazing right now.”

Joel chuckles himself, a kiss to your cheek before he climbs out of your bed and traipses down the hall. You hear the swish of water from the tap turn on and off, bare footsteps slapping quietly against the wood floors as Jole comes back in through your doorway.

He cleans you up with a wet, warm cloth, exhaustion weighing your eyelids. Fluttering around your room, he moves smoothly as he gets the covers out from under you, tucking you in before discarding the cloth in your hamper and climbing under your comforter on the opposite side. He wraps you up as the little spoon, nose buried in your hair to smell your shampoo.

Half awake, you reach to shut off your lamp. A confession floods your mind in the dark, faint voice whispering to him behind you, “I love you.”

It’s been a week.

A week since you revealed your heart and yourself fully to Joel.

A week of him not acknowledging either event.

A really weird fucking week.

Your return to school looms over your head, this lull coming at the most inopportune time.

Every day you see Joel, it’s awkward and disjointed in your embraces and kisses when Sarah’s off playing or he’s walking you to the door. Nothing feels as smooth as it was before last week, and there’s a nagging feeling in your chest that Joel taking your virginity ruined everything. That your friends were right, that guys never wanted to be that for someone because “women get too attached.” It sounded like bullshit to you before, and you don’t feel like you’re any more clingy than you’d acted before, the most attention you ask for is a kiss goodnight when you leave his house. He was always the one initiating more.

One night, you’d had a horrible thought that now he’s had you, he didn’t want any more. That it was about the chase, the finish line at the end of the summer that he’d crossed early.

But Joel wasn’t like that. He couldn’t be that type of guy.

He was a father. And a good one at that. An honest man. Someone who looks out for his family, even for strangers.

How could Joel become so lackadaisical with someone he said he cared about?

Today had been another stuttered dance of a goodbye, a chaste peck against your lips and a mumbled “see you tomorrow” before he sent you on your way, the door already closed when you glanced over your shoulder.

It had been eating away at you, carving out a part of your heart as you mulled over it all night. Your parents were asleep at this point, and looking out your window quickly, you saw his living room light still on.

You padded silently downstairs and slipped on shoes, quietly leaving out of your front door and crossing over to Joel’s porch. You knock instead of ringing the bell, not wanting to wake Sarah. The minute it takes Joel to answer the door feels like an hour, the courage you had about this confrontation fading with each passing second.

The entrance cracks open, half of Joel’s revealed as he takes you in. The rest of the door swings open, concern washing over his face with a furrowed brow and downturned mouth.

“It’s late, sweetheart. What are you doin’ out over here? Did something happen? Do you need help with something?”

With your arms crossed over your chest, you shake your head, glancing back at your house over your shoulder and debating if you should just forget this whole thing. Maybe he’s been having an off week — maybe it’s not worth bringing up if it could make things worse before you’re going to be three hours away at school for nine months.

The smallest part of you still urges you to push, to make him say what he’s feeling, even if it’s as simple as ‘I had a bad week at work’. If he can’t talk to you about what’s wrong now, what could happen if something starts bothering him when you’re going to have phone calls and limited visits?

It’s easier to justify a breakup when the person isn’t around for you.

“Nothing’s happened, I—well, I wanted to come talk to you about this week. Just, things’ve been off. With us.”

Joel’s eyes hit the floor as you say that, his shoulders tensing along with the forearm that’s gripping the door. Anxiety pools in your stomach, the taut silence adding to your nerves. Is he angry?

“Think you should come in and sit down, sweetheart.”

That can’t be good.

You trail behind Joel after he shuts the door, following him into the living room and sitting at the end of the couch he gestures to. He sits near the middle, not quite the complete opposite end but not the spot he would have chosen before this week. Quickly grabbing the remote off the coffee table, he shuts off the TV and leaves the two of you in near darkness save for the soft light of the lamp behind you.

“Guess I should explain myself for this week.”

You can’t bear to look at him right now, your eyes turned down to your lap where you're picking at nails and a hangnail around your thumb.

“I’ve been thinkin’ a lot this week. About us. About the summer,” Joel sighs, his own eyes watching your nervous hands, “It has been a great summer. One of the best for me, I really do mean that. You’re so incredible, darlin’ b—”

“But what?”

Your gaze has risen to Joel, bile burning your throat when you see the look on his face — no hint of a smile when he said those words, no joy in his eyes. His mouth is in a downturned pout, his eyes rounded with sadness. The placement of his hands on his thighs is rigid, back straight as he cheats himself to face you more.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep goin’. For us to continue…this.”

Tears blur your vision until you blink them back, a few stray ones falling down your cheeks. You sniffle as Joel brings a hand up to wipe the drops from your cheeks — you let him, thinking it might be one of the last times, if not the last, he ever does anything soft like that for you.

“Why?”

Water wells the corners of your eyes again, lips pressed into a hard, flat line to hold in your sobs. Joel’s hand lingers against your skin, a flash of regret in his eyes that makes you think he’ll take it all back and you can forget about this ever happening.

But that look fades, replaced with the sadness from a minute before.

“You’re gonna be away at school, sweetheart. Three hours away. Busy as all get out for your last year. And I’m gonna be here. Bein’ a dad. And a mom too, most of the time. Plus with working full time on top of all that, I just, I couldn’t even promise a phone call to you, sweetheart.”

“But you could come visit on the weekends that Sarah’s at her mom’s…or-or I can come down. I would drive down every weekend to see you.”

“How'd you explain coming home every weekend to your parents? And you'd miss all the fun of your senior year for me? I couldn’t let you do that, darlin’. I wouldn’t want you to ever resent me for taking something like that away from you,” he shakes his head, definitiveness laced in his words, “I didn’t get to have all those experiences with Sarah being born, I didn’t even go to college. You have so much ahead of you, I don’t wanna hold you back.”

“How come you’re the one that gets to decide what I should do with my senior year? You’re not even giving me a choice. You’re not even giving me a chance if you do this, Joel.”

Tears fall freely at this point, not bothering to hold them in. Anger burns white hot in your chest, jaw clenched as you think about how he’s gone and decided what your life was going to be from now on.

“Sweetheart, you know it’s not like that—”

“It is. My whole life I’ve been making decisions to please people, if you can even call what I did making decisions. I listened to my parents, did the extracurriculars they told me to, never partied or got in trouble. I went to the college that they thought would be the best for me, even chose my fucking major — my career path — based on one thing my dad said to me years ago; he said ‘Y’know, you’ve got a smile that could sell ice to a penguin.’ I was twelve when he said that. And immediately I thought — if I could sell things like he said, he’d be proud of me, so I went into advertising,” you sit up on the couch further, shaking your head in disbelief, “I thought this summer was the first time I was choosing for myself. That nobody knew about how much I felt for you, that I was the one who was deciding that I wanted you. And when I decided that, when I told you I loved you, I wanted you to know that I was always gonna choose you. That this was the one path I could fully control.”

“Now I think I realize that I wouldn’t have done anything about it had you not kissed me first. I would have never made that decision without you deciding first. I’ve been following blindly my whole life. I wanted you to be the first thing I really chose. But I never really had a choice when it came to us. You were always gonna call the shots for what happened to us.”

“I didn’t go into all this knowing it was gonna come down to this at the end of the summer,” Joel’s voice is low and raspy, “I would never hurt you on purpose or string you along, sweetheart. I was in the moment with you. It was easy to forget about anything else when I was with you. You know I'm not going anywhere, I’ll always be here if you come back. But I think we both know you're destined for great things after you graduate.”

“I need you to do this for me, darlin’, please. Go have fun, be selfish this year. Spread your wings, mi mariposa. My butterfly.”

You stand from the couch, a sob escaping your lips as you turn to walk out the door. Joel follows you closely, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him.

“Joel, I don’t want to do this back and forth anymore. We’re done. It’s fine, it’s what you want and I am clearly not going to change your mind.”

“I just—I want you to know that I’m always going to care about you, sweetheart. I'll always be here for you.”

A sharp pain crackles in your chest as your heart crumbles, shards of it nestling to prick your lungs and steal the air from them, scrape against your ribs, spread everywhere in your body until it all hurts. Without another word, you take your arm from his grasp and leave out the front door. No looking back this time, no seeing if he’s watching you walk away from his life.

The trunk of your car slams shut with a push, all the belongings you’d brought home packed up again to make the drive back to school. You’re moving in earlier than you thought you would, heading back at the same time as your roommates instead of at the last second like every summer before.

It’s been a dull last few weeks.

You didn’t have your job anymore to fill your days. Joel had messaged you that you were off the hook the morning after, and you spent the rest of the afternoon in quiet tears about not being able to say goodbye to say goodbye to Sarah. You had barely gotten glimpses of Joel, mostly seeing his truck parked in the driveway or coasting down the street in the mornings, but not much of him.

You’re not entirely sure if that’s helped or not.

But it doesn’t matter much now anyways, decisions were made and now you were finally leaving home.

On your driveway, your parents hugged you goodbye, your brother has already left for his school year to start baseball season training. With one last kiss on the cheek from your mom and a pat on the shoulder from your dad, you climbed in behind the wheel and backed out of the driveway. As you face towards the exit of your street, you take one look at the Miller house.

Joel’s standing on the porch with Sarah standing in front of him, a beaming smile on her face as she waves wildly at you. You roll your window down and wave back at her, laughing as she yells out a goodbye and good luck to you.

Flicking your eyes up to her dad standing behind her, hands on her shoulders and a closed, faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He lifts his hand in a short wave to you, and all you manage is a nod of acknowledgment back to him. You start driving away, watching both houses next to each other shrink in the rearview mirror. You blast the AC after rolling your window back up, turning on the radio to fill the silence and distract your mind.

The station host finishes up an ad read and immediately goes into the next song, trills of piano and slow, bright vocals.

American Pie.

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